#jab-cab

[jab-cab]

#here's some more pixel art because the cord for my tablet is busted #minecraft #art #jab-cab #oc #pillager minecraft #minecraft mob #persona #city #landscape #cottagecore #painting #pixel art

[heesdreamer]

ECHOES OF RIOT

PAIRING ➩ heeseung x reader

SUMMARY ➩ falling inlove with a rockstar is never easy, especially when he returns to your hometown on a successful tour three years after you lost contact

WARNINGS ➩ this is like straight up angst… romance but mostly angst lol.. drug use, some violence, idk can’t really remember this is ridiculously long

WC ➩ 19.1k

AUTHORS NOTE ➩ well this took me forever lol.. i don’t have much to say i just hope you like it. NOT PROOFREAD normally written at 4am lol the usual.. also side note one of the main characters was chaeyoung and i changed her to heejin for obvious reasons so if you see any of her name left over that’s my mistake and that’s why.

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up like you did, so meek and quiet to the point that it was an actual hinderance on your daily activities.

If you were born like that, just one of those kids that was too shy to talk to their classmates and hid behind their moms legs on the first day of school, you’d completely understand but you’d actually been nearly the opposite for your entire life.

Maybe it was an accumulation of always feeling like you were taking up too much space, being on the receiving end of quick glares from teachers when you lacked volume control or seeing the hesitance on your friends parents faces when they excitedly asked if you could come over for a sleepover. Mixed with your own sudden self awareness going into high school.

You quickly realized that it wasn’t the loud girls getting asked out on dates and it was an almost immediately decline into self intrusion once you made this discovery.

It wasn’t like you necessarily wanted to be asked out by anybody, physically recoiling as your friends gossiped about the mass appointed hottest guys at your school and turning up your nose when they made sleazy attempts to flirt and court the other girls around you, but it felt embarrassing to be constantly left out of romantic group hangouts or discussions about experiences you’d never had.

Still, you had managed to keep a solid group of friends despite your newfound habit of self isolating and they only halfway judged you for your tendency to stay in on the weekends.

On the other half however, they weren’t so forgiving, hence why you were currently stood outside a low scale concert venue shivering so hard you were worried you’d chip a tooth. You were pulling your zip up hoodie tighter around your body and sending glares to your friends who were chatting animatedly about the band they were going to see.

Apparently it was composed of some boys around your age, not attending your school but well known enough that they had been invited to some of your friends parties and events and eventually your friend group had been given tickets to one of their shows.

You weren’t the biggest fan of crowds in general but especially concert goers and you’d been promised that this one would be chill and relaxing, something you automatically knew was a lie the second you left the cab and saw the attire of everybody around you. The line was buzzing with energy and adrenaline and you could hear the acts doing soundcheck from inside, music loud and heavy.

It was freezing and as much as you were dreading being pushed into a crowd with jabbing elbows and sweat rolling off their skin onto yours, you were ready to get out of the line as more and more snow kept falling down onto the uncaring crowd.

“Aren’t you excited?” Your head was turning at the sound of a soft voice coming from your right and you smiled softly at one of your calmer friends.

“Sure Sunoo. It’ll be fun.” You were replying quickly, not needing them to feel awkward or guilty about bringing you just because you didn’t necessarily want to come. You figured he could tell you were lying by the pity filled look he gave you but he didn’t call you out for it.

He didn’t say anything else for a second and he didn’t get a chance before the doors were opening and the line was surging forward, already getting your tickets checked while you waited and turning into a blob of people and excitement all trying to squeeze into the single door.

You were groaning softly at the feeling of being jostled around but you couldn’t help but laugh at the fact all of your friends were linking arms and declaring to stay together, slightly envious of the pure delight on their faces whilst your heart was starting to ache from the anxious way it was pounding. You let yourself be dragged through the crowd by them, closing your eyes for a second when you pushed through the tightest areas and just allowing them to guide you through it.

The venue was more so just a bar with a small stage but your friends had told you that these were the best types of places to see a show at, intimate and ear shattering loud.

They’d said the last half with an enthusiastic giggle but you had winced softly at the image of how close you’d be to the large speakers that you now saw adorning the stage. It was dark in the building and your shoes were sticking to the floor beneath you, lights turned a deep glowing green and something more casual playing over the speakers to fill the silence.

You’d followed behind them as they found a spot near the bar, safely tucked away from the crowd and planning to wait out the opening acts here to preserve their energy. They all agreed to push into the crowd once the main band came out and try to get as close as they possibly could, looking over at you for acceptance and all smiling and patting your back when you gave a sheepish nod.

It wasn’t that bad and you were quickly getting used to it, the thick cloud of cigarette smoke settling over you and only making you slightly dizzy now.

You felt a bit embarrassed and out of place but everybody else was too excited or drunk to notice that you weren’t exactly in the most appropriate attire. Sunoo had shot you a questioning glance when you’d gotten into the shared cab but you only just now realized you weren’t fitting in with the rest of the crowd or your friends even slightly.

The difference between you and them was even more evident when the owner of the bar was stepping onto stage and excitedly announcing the first artists, all your friends cheering and holding onto each other while you sat and watched from one of the bar stools.

You were still able to have fun as you watched them, smiling softly at the way they kept instinctively moving forward together as the music started and they screamed the lyrics. You didn’t recognize the songs that the band was covering but you knew enough about music to tell it sounded amazing, watching them closely as they skillfully played off of each other and got the crowd properly amped up.

You’d never really understood the purpose behind opening acts but you were getting it now considering you were feeling more and more excited for the main band as you kept watching.

Then more time had passed and the crowd had entered that stage of being too excited and too intoxicated to really understand boundaries and limits, a few fights breaking out that your friends didn’t bat an eye at but you were starting to feel a really deep pit building in your stomach.

It only worsened when somebody was hurriedly, and messily, approaching the bar and demanding another drink as he anxiously looked behind him at where you presumed his spot in the crowd was. You were watching him out of the corner of your eye as he ordered, feeling him swaying drunkenly closer to you and wanting to make sure he didn’t accidentally tip over and knock you out of your seat.

Your intuition was astoundingly accurate considering it wasn’t long before somebody else was approaching the man and leaning into his side, sending the both of them tilting over in your direction.

You’d just managed to hop off the bar seat before they were slamming into it but with the speed in which you’d jumped off combined with the sticky floor underneath you, you were skidding forward and landing roughly on your side against the ground.

Neither man seemed coherent enough to notice you had fallen from the height and you could hear them drunkenly laughing with each other from above you. Your friends hadn’t noticed the altercation either and you quickly frowned at the nasty sensation under your hands before you were standing up and swiftly adjusting your skirt.

You were rushing back out towards the entrance before anybody could notice your disappearance, pushing back through the door and immediately being hit by the cold air as the snow continued to build up on the ground. You were sighing and bending down to pick some of it off the sidewalk, rubbing it in your hands and trying to clean them off the best you could with the wetness.

“You’re going to miss the main act.”

You were jumping at the sound of a voice coming from behind you, standing up swiftly and turning around to see somebody leaning against the building and taking a long drag from whatever it was that he was smoking.

“Oh.. yeah I know I just.. had something on my hands.” You were mumbling out towards him and indicating awkwardly at the snow in your hands, realizing how weird it must’ve looked from his angle.

He was laughing softly at your explanation and your face flushed in embarrassment again for the sixth time that night, taking in his attire and knowing he’d be able to tell right away that you weren’t exactly supposed to be here. He was tall, would be even taller if he was standing up straight and it was especially accentuated by the tight fit of his ripped black jeans. You couldn’t see his face super clearly from where he was stood underneath the shaky lights but his hair was messy and in his eyes and you thought you saw a piercing or two shining on his face.

“Who dragged you here?” He was suddenly asking and you froze up again as you looked at him, eyes darting down to his feet for a second nervously.

“My friends got tickets and I couldn’t get out of it.” You were telling him softly and shrugging a bit. A car was driving past on the empty road and you waited for the sounds of the snow crunching under its tires to quiet before you finished. “From the band actually.”

You look back at him just in time to see his eyebrows lift in surprise and then settle into recognition, your own shifting forward in furrowed confusion. The boy was taking a step off the wall then and flicking his cigarette somewhere off near the road, your eyes following the still burning ember as it flew through the air before circling back to him.

“I’ll see you inside then.” His tone was one of a statement and not a question but you were still slightly confused despite the fact you habitually nodded at him.

You let out a big sigh once he was leaving finally, weirdly going through the alley towards what you could only assume was a side entrance and not the door right next to him. It quickly slipped your mind and you decided to wait for the previous act to finish up before you also headed back in.

You crouched back down closer to the snow and continued to try and clean off your hands and parts of your sleeves that had gotten stained from whatever substances were on the floor. The cold was sending waves of shivers through you but you simply ignored the uncomfortable feeling, especially since you figured you’d warm up quickly once you headed back inside.

Eventually you could hear the second opening act thanking the crowd for their intense energy before the familiar voice of the bar owner was back, this time more excited as he announced that the main band was finally coming out on to the stage.

You sighed softly again to yourself before stomping the slush off your boots and heading back through the door, once again being hit by the tight atmosphere that was a lot more sweaty than when you had first walked in and was now practically buzzing with adrenaline.

It was harder than you had planned for to get back to your seat and you almost gave up and just resided to the back of the building but once the band members were finally on stage the crowd surged forward, a gap in the mass of people slightly opened up and you were hurrying through it back towards where your friends had been. They were gone now but you had expected that, knowing they must likely went closer to the stage.

You were just barely settling back into an empty stool when the band was coming out on stage and you frowned when you realized you could barely see them, sitting up slightly and freezing up when you got a better view.

One of the boys was standing center stage and speaking into the mic, presumably introducing them to the crowd who was cheering the loudest they had all night, but your gaze was drifting a few feet to his right to where one of the guitarist was standing.

You immediately recognized him as the boy from outside, a wave of embarrassment washing over you as you remembered how you had been less than enthusiastic about coming and had told him the band invited you and your friends. His surprised expression was making sense to you now and you would’ve turned to face palm if you weren’t stuck staring at him.

He was scanning the crowd for a few seconds and your eyes widened a touch when he was looking in your direction, stopping his wandering gaze as a soft smirk started to build up on his lips.

You were glancing around you to see if there was anything else he could be looking at and then feeling your face heat up alarmingly fast when you realized there wasn’t and he definitely recognized you from your awkward encounter outside.

Then they were starting to play and you were frozen for other reasons, your eyes locked on him and his frame as he started to open the song slow and soft. It wasn’t the type of music you had expected from them just based off of appearance and you were completely transfixed by the way they skillfully moved with their respective instruments, the boys behind the mics voice coming through now.

The crowd was swaying along with the gentle music, calming down into a low buzz like they were being completely controlled by the bands sound and energy.

You sat frozen like that for the entirety of the first song, mouth slightly parted in surprise and watching the boy you’d seen outside as he continued to play. You didn’t know much about guitars but you could tell he was good, his louder than the others and ringing out clear even underneath the distorted vocals.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore because he wasn’t looking at anything at all, leaning back and keeping his eyes shut as he played them through the final half of the first song. He was rocking along with his strums and he seemed just as into it and transfixed as the rest of the building was.

The first song slowed to a stop and you heard the vocalist laugh softly into the mic before he was glancing behind him towards where the drummer was sitting. You watched them curiously as they nodded at eachother in silent communication, amazed at how casual and relaxed they seemed to be in front of all of these people.

“Obviously we know what you’re all here for.” The lead vocalist was speaking into the mic with a small smile and the two guitarist start to build up the intro of the next song. “Watch your elbows and try not to knock anyone out.”

He was laughing as he finished his lighthearted warning but you watched as the crowd surged with excitement and started to move around, coming to life in sync like they were all the same creature and you felt a bit sick at how tight and moving it was quickly becoming. He was starting to sing again in a lower tone and even though the song was still bordering on calm, you could feel it building up along with the energy in the room.

It was closer to what you had expected their music to sound like and although it wasn’t necessarily something you’d keep on during your downtime, you couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy at the way the entire crowd reacted to the explosive chorus.

The drummers voice was rasping underneath the main vocalist now and you quickly understand their previous communication, a smile building on your face as you watched the guitarist from outside staring at them with an unfiltered excitement.

They played more songs and you continued to sit and watch them unmoving, your eyes mostly transfixed on the boy with the guitar until the end of their set. You’d never seen somebody play the way he did and you almost felt like you had no choice but to watch him considering how captivating he looked on stage. Eventually they were shouting their goodbyes towards the crowd and accepting thrown gifts and hands reaching out for contact, all except for the guitarist considering he was just watching and smiling at the crowd for a distance.

You were still watching them as they left the stage and disappeared back into the restricted part of the building, not even noticing when your friends were excitedly bounding back over to you.

“That was fucking awesome.” Heejin was wrapping her arm around your shoulder and shaking you enthusiastically, sweat lining her dyed hair now and making her tattoos glisten under the now red lighting.

“Jungwon somehow sounds 100 times better in person.” You turned your head to see Sunoo coming to sit next to you with an impressed look on his face, shaking his head in disbelief and still watching the empty stage like you were a few moments ago. “Plus I didn’t know Jake could sing like that.”

“He sang at that school event remember? Before Jay got him into drumming.” Riki was quickly explaining and taking a swig of a water bottle he was carrying, still slightly out of breath from the tight and hot crowd.

You watched them talk animatedly about the show with a soft smile and fondness, you were glad they had fun even if you were originally hesitant to come out with them. It had been better than you’d expected and you still felt a little rush of excitement under your skin when you thought about how loud and beautiful the music had been. You’d completely forgotten about falling on the floor or any mishap.

“Are you ready to go then? We don’t want to keep them waiting, they’re probably super tired.” Joonie was turning to smile at you and await your response but her grin faltered when she saw the heavy look of confusion gracing your features. “You didn’t ask her?”

She was moving her head to give an accusatory stare towards the others and Sunoo winced softly at the harshness in her glare. Riki was sighing and scratching the back of his neck before answering. “We figured we’d ask her after she saw them… maybe she’d be more inclined to say yes.”

“Say yes to what?” You were quickly butting in, slightly frustrated that they were talking around you like you weren’t sat right there watching the entire thing.

“The band wanted us to come over to their place after the show.” Heejin was answering hesitantly, watching you with an expectant look like she was already prepared for you to shut them down.

You can’t deny that the thought immediately crossed your mind, beyond used to rejecting hangouts instinctively especially ones that were so small and intimate with people you didn’t know.

Then you were thinking about the way they had performed and how you had felt seeing them have so much fun on the stage, like they never cared about taking up too much space and they certainly weren’t concerned with ever being too loud. You were pausing for a few seconds to think about it even though you already felt like your mind had been made up, meeting your friends waiting stares and giving them a soft nod of approval.

——

You had quickly come to regret your accepting nod on your way to meet up with the boys, packed into a cab with your friends who still vaguely smelled like the inside of the venue and conjoined sweat.

They still seemed excited so you were trying your best to not be a visible mood killer but you were getting more and more anxious the closer you got to where you’d be meeting, not even exactly sure what type of environment you were going into.

It got even worse when the cab was pulling to a stop in front of a house tucked neatly in a lower class suburban area, the dread of having to make small talk in such an intimate setting like one the boys house was making your stomach turn with nausea. You sucked it up and followed behind your friends with held breath, listening as the door opened and they excitedly greeted whoever it was that was behind it.

You eventually filed through and when it was your turn to pass through the doorway, you realized it was Jake who had opened it.

You recognized him from school events like Riki had mentioned before, not attending yours but a few times a year the neighboring schools held community shows and events to bring the area closer together and scout for grants and sponsorships. You distinctly remember Jake sitting on the stage a few years back, looking beyond nervous as he softly strung his acoustic guitar and sang a song that had slipped your memory by now.

It was a striking opposition to what you’d seen him do tonight, both the fact he had been singing so hard his voice was scratching underneath Jungwon’s softer tone and the way he was slamming down on the drums so hard you had been worried he’d break something.

He had a certain buzzing energy to him that helped this make sense, watching him now as he excitedly bounced around your friends like a loose dog as he guided them towards another doorway. You figured he was more full of bottled up excitement over any actual aggressiveness and you continued to silently follow behind them.

You were a bit surprised to be led down to a small finished basement, carefully walking down the carpeted steps and feeling weirdly like you’d been transported back to your own home with how familiar the area looked.

There was a small red light connected to the door with tape and you imagined it was to signal that some sort of recording was going on, a small smile playing up on your face at the irony of the devoted after band having such a simple setup. The smile was immediately slipping off when you were hearing your friends start up rounds of greeting again and you paled with nerves.

“That’s Y/N, she doesn’t talk much.” Riki was quickly saying and you were half grateful he had saved you from awkwardly stuttering out your name and half furious as all sets of eyes turned to look in your direction.

You recognized the lead singer first, looking a lot less intimidating now that he was sitting on the sofa in more comfortable clothes and letting his purple mullet air dry from what you could only assume was a post show shower. You knew his name was Jungwon just from hearing your friends rambles and you filled in the blanks for the rest of the names.

Jay was almost more intimidating off stage than he was on it, losing that playful and excited energy that being in front of a crowd brought and falling into an almost scary silence. If it wasn’t for the gentle way he was picking at an acoustic guitar, a stark difference to the black and shining electric one you’d seen him with on stage.

Your eyes were drifting over to the final person in the room who was busy chatting with Heejin and staring excitedly at her newest tattoos, his hands hovering over her skin but not touching directly like an excited child. Sunoo had told you on the way here that Sunghoon played bass and whilst you weren’t exactly sure what that meant, he seemed the most approachable out of the group.

Minus the member you’d already accidentally approached but he was missing from the current area and you felt a wave of relief rushing through you considering how embarrassed you’d felt seeing him on stage.

You almost fell into autopilot and you listened to the two groups mix and talk casually like they were lifelong friends, an overwhelming feeling of envy sitting in your stomach considering the fact they were so easily able to hold conversation with each other whilst you struggled to even introduce yourself.

Jay had gotten up to put on a record at some point and that made you feel slightly more at ease considering there was no more room for awkward silence, something a lot calmer than what they’d played earlier ringing through the room as they all lounged in different places and started to smoke amongst each other.

Your friends didn’t bother offering any to you considering you had a tendency to say no, not necessarily against smoking or being high but the intimacy of sharing a blunt mixed with the performance anxiety as it was passed around the circle almost on instinct. The other boys must’ve gotten the hint without it needing to be said and they also didn’t try to get you to smoke, leaving you relieved that they weren’t the types to poke fun at you or try to pressure you into it.

It was a lot easier for you to just watch them and get a small contact high, sinking down into your spot on the couch more and relaxing as they started to lose focus and definitely lose the ability to care if you were being awkward.

You were pressed against the side of the sofa even though nobody was sat directly near you, still trying to ensure you were taking up as little space on the furniture as possible in case somebody else wanted to sit or you were simply just in the way. You were grateful you’d developed this habit considering the door to the basement was opening again and you froze up as the light shone in from the top of the stairs.

“Finally, the chosen one has arrived.” Jake was yelling excitedly from somewhere you couldn’t see, laying flat on the carpet behind the round ottoman and you could only barely catch a glimpse of his arms being thrown up in mock praise.

You were staring at the stairs as the boot covered feet started to descend down and you knew who it was before he even reached the point where you could see his upper half, freezing even more at the way his eyes scanned over the unfamiliar faces in the basement before pausing on you.

You awkwardly pulled your sleeves over your hands and glanced back over at Sunoo was sitting in the chair closest to you and the couch, talking to Sunghoon about something you couldn’t quite make it out considering anxiety was fully building up now and you were slightly disoriented from the overstimulation in the room.

Much to your dismay and attempts to stop yourself, your eyes were drifting back over to the boy and you almost groaned when you realized he was still watching you.

Heeseung had, according to Joonie on the way here, been the one to originally start up the band and convince the others to take it as seriously as he did. He was the lead guitarist first and foremost but he dabbled in almost everything, including producing all of their original songs and covers and apparently forfeiting his basement as their studio considering the younger photos of him scattered around the walls.

His baby pink hair was in his face even more now than it had been when you’d saw him smoking outside, littered with random blonde patches that told you he had done it himself, and now you were positive he had multiple piercings throughout his face.

It was only getting worse for you when he was making his way over to the couch and taking the empty middle seat, directly next to you.

You were sat with your feet up on the fabric and hugging your knees close to your chest but you imagined if you’d been sat normally then your thighs would be press against his that had lost the tight ripped jeans and were now sporting some more casual black sweatpants.

“You want this Hee?” Sunghoon was saying from where he was sat on the floor besides Sunoo on the chair.

You glanced over to the boy just in time to see him shake his head in denial and a wave of surprise and relief washed over you, grateful you wouldn’t be the only one not smoking anymore. “You don’t smoke?” Riki was asking and Heeseung seemed to instinctively shake his head no.

Jay snorted out a half laugh half scoff and you watched the pink haired boy shoot him a sharp glare before his eyes were drifting over to you, almost like he was checking your reaction. Your eyebrows were furrowed forward in confusion, wondering why he was lying about smoking, he must’ve forgotten the fact you’d seen him outside with a cigarette only a few hours before.

Everybody fell back into their own individual conversations again and you started to relax finally, listening to the music playing softly in the smoke filled room.

“So did you end up liking it then?” Heeseung’s voice was coming from beside you and you looked over towards him with widened eyes, not expecting him to directly address you.

“W-what?” You were stuttering out and then immediately flushing in embarrassment when a concerned look passed over his intimidating face. He seemed nice enough but your closed mind couldn’t look past the piercings and the eyeliner still staining around his large eyes.

“The show.” He was quickly explaining, looking slightly embarrassed himself that you hadn’t understood what he was talking about. “You didn’t seem too excited when you were outside.”

You froze up in your spot considering he was directly referencing the conversation you’d had outside, in which you had told him begrudgingly and in complaint that you hadn’t been able to get out of going to the show that he was performing at. You didn’t respond for a few seconds and you were grateful that everybody was too stoned to keep up with your awkward conversation.

“It was… you guys were very..” You trailed off when you saw the expectant look on his face and you cleared your throat a bit, eyes darting down to the double piercings going through the thin skin of his lips and then back up to his eyes. “It was cool.”

“Just cool?” His lip was curling softly up into a half smirk at your extremely vague answer, shifting in his place on the couch so he was facing you better and you tried not to be extremely weird about the fact his arm was resting on the back of the sofa now and therefore his hand was dangling on the other side of your shoulders.

“Super cool?” You offered in a squeaky voice, wincing as your shoulders curled in on themselves.

He laughed softly at your answer and you were relieved that he found it somewhat funny and wasn’t totally offended that you didn’t have a string of compliments prepared for him. You did like the show much more than you thought you would and if you were able to get ahold of yourself, you would’ve told him how impressed you were as you watched him play.

But you weren’t that lucky and you knew you’d be stuck giving him half true statements that didn’t actually show how you truly felt about the set, turning your head back to face forward so you didn’t have to look at his face anymore.

You weren’t exactly sure why he had come to talk to you out of everybody in the room, knowing he was obviously a lot closer to his band mates and had even hung out with your male friends a few times from your knowledge in group settings. Joonie had told you that she thought the two of you were a bit similar considering he was also rarely at social events but you highly doubted the comparison considering the way he looked performing in front of an adoring and expectant crowd.

Still, you thought about the way he hung back at the end of the final song instead of interacting with the fans like the other members had and the fact you hadn’t been surprised when he wasn’t present in the basement at first.

“Are you two actually talking to each other or just sitting in weirdo silence?” Your head was picking back up to look over at Heejin who was sitting on the other side of the couch, next to Heeseung but leaning far enough away towards Jake and Jungwon that they didn’t touch at all.

You didn’t need to look at her to know who she was referring to but your stomach dropped a little when you met her gaze and confirmed she was referring to you, the others in the room also looking over considering her statement.

Heejin was in no way mean to you and she was actually your longest friend out of the group, knowing her since middle school which meant she was around to watch your social decline. She made jokes sometimes or pushed you too far out of your comfort zone but you always took it as her way of trying to help you loosen up like she knew you could, always stopping whenever you got visibly too overwhelmed or uncomfortable.

You weren’t sure if it was the presence of people she admired or the buzz of a high settling over her that caused her to make the comment but it clearly crossed a line the two of you had silently established throughout the years, your face dropping at the unwanted attention.

“Heeseung is the master of weirdo silence.” Jake was adding on from the floor again and you could hear him giggling nonsensically, sitting up so you could see his head past the ottoman and frown at him.

“Yeah well I’d rather talk to..” Heeseung was starting harshly before trailing off and glancing over at you with a raised eyebrow. You paused for a few seconds and stared at him in confusion but realizing he was waiting for you to tell him your name, quickly whispering it to him and trying to ignore the small smile he gave you before turning back to look at the others. “I’d rather talk to Y/N than you deadbeats.”

The boys in the room were breaking out into small fits of laughters and instigating choruses of “Oo’s”. Fanning their hands out like they’d been burned and only settling down when Heeseung was rolling his eyes and sinking further into the couch.

Luckily they all seemed to let it go after that even though you were still left with a deeper pit in your stomach because of Heejin’s random dig at both you and Heeseung, roping him in to your anti social behavior and giving his own friends the opportunity to pile on top of it.

You were glancing over at him again from the corner of your eye, hesitantly shifting to try and catch his attention again. His gaze was snapping back to your face when you moved slightly and his eyebrows raised in question again, a lot softer than they had been when he was asking for your name and snapping back at your friends. You watched the way the metal balls surrounding his eyebrow stretched with the movement before licking your dry lips and speaking.

“Thanks.” The word slipped from your lips in a small breath and once again you felt disappointed that it was all you had managed to say, wishing you were able to express your gratitude to him more.

He didn’t seem to mind and his shoulders were lifting in a small shoulder, watching you curiously. “It’s no big deal. I don’t talk much either.”

“Even though you do all… that?” You were asking before you even processed the question falling from your lips and he looked equally surprised as you that you were continuing the conversation without needing prompting.

“Like perform?” His voice was lower now as you started to talk more and you had a feeling he didn’t want the others to listen in and find a way to intervene again. You gave him a soft nod, grateful he had understood your vague wording. “It’s different, I don’t really think of it like that. Sometimes I don’t even feel like I’m there in front of all those people.”

If you’d heard him say that last week or even this morning, you would’ve not fully understood what exactly he was trying to explain to you. Even now you were still a bit confused on what exactly the feeling was like but you immediately understood what he was referring to, remembering the way he was closing his eyes and leaning with the music like he was in his own world.

You must’ve fallen silent for too long as you were thinking about it and what that could possibly be like, how it would feel to live a life with that sort of overwhelming passion, because he was clearing his throat and shifting again.

“It’s like… well what do you do?” He was starting to try and find an analogy, assuming you didn’t understand and you froze up at the direct question.

“What do I do?” You were repeating back to him for clarification and he nodded earnestly, waiting to hear your answer. “I don’t think I really do anything.”

He seemed taken back by that and you were slightly embarrassed that you’d failed to answer his question properly. You’d thought about it before, being at the age where you should have something you were passionate about or a hobby that motivated you in some way.

You never really did much of anything on your own and you’d yet to find anything that gave you that sort of spark he’d be referring to, the type of spark that would cause you to do what you loved even if it meant pushing yourself past your limits or standing on a stage like you were born for it.

“What are you doing this weekend?” He was suddenly rushing out and your eyes widened in surprise again at the fact his voice had come out much louder now, like he’d forced himself to say it. You didn’t say anything for a few seconds and then you were shaking your head to signal that you weren’t doing anything set in stone. “Come to our next show.”

“To your show?” You were repeating in bewilderment and he was nodding his head quickly as he scanned over your face hesitantly, wondering if you were going to reject him. Eventually you were biting the inside of your cheek after contemplating for a while and glancing at him. “O-okay.. yeah sure.”

——

“Y/N, the phone for you.” Your mothers screaming voice was floating up the stairs and you groaned softly into your pillow, laying on your stomach and overthinking the events of the previous weekend like you had been for days.

It was pretty uneventful after your conversation with Heeseung, both falling into a silence or offering small laughs and quick glances as you listened to your friends talk and get to know each other better. He must’ve been telling the truth about not talking much because nobody looked over at him once expectantly although you noticed his band mates keeping an eye on the two of you occasionally.

Eventually you and your friends had left the basement and the pink haired boy had spared you a quick wave through the window as the taxi pulled off.

You’d listened to your friends excitedly talk the entire way back to your neighbors and pry you for details about what you’d been talking about with him, not noticing the bitter expression on your face when you noticed how surprised they seemed that he’d chosen to speak to you.

Now it was Thursday and you were thinking about it all again, replaying it over and over and finding something new to be embarrassed about each time you did. Heeseung was surprisingly soft spoken and slightly awkward considering his appearance but you knew it held no parallel to how terrible you were at socializing.

“Y/N.” Your mom was screaming again and this time you rolled over as you groaned, letting it fill the room before you were getting off your bed and heading down the stairs.

Your mom was standing there with the phone in her hand, watching you with an excited expression and your face was pulling forward in confusion as your steps hesitantly slowed to a stop. “It’s a boy.” She was whispering and pointing at the phone with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

You were snatching the phone away from her and walking around the corner into the hallways, stretching the chord as far as it could possibly go and waving a dismissive hand at your mom when she was poking her around the corner in curiosity.

“Hello?” You were breathing into the phone and it was a heavy silence for a few seconds before you could hear somebody clearing their throat on the other side.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Heeseung.” He was announcing and you froze up at the sound of his soft voice coming through your speaker, clutching the phone tighter in your hand and shifting it against your ear. “Um.. like the guitar guy.”

You were laughing softly at the fact he felt the need to specify, most likely growing nervous from your extended silence. “I know who you are Heeseung.”

“Cool… yeah cool.” He was breathing back and letting out his own nervous laugh, a small smile building on your face at how awkward he seemed now. You liked how different he was in each setting, confident and sensual on stage and casual and calm when surrounded by his friends in a familiar area. Now you were seeing what he was like on his own, mirroring a personality similar to yours.

“D-did you need something?” You tried to keep your tone light so he didn’t think you were bothered by the fact he had called despite your confusion over how he’d gotten your number or what exactly he wanted.

Your heart was racing slightly as you listened to him inhale over the phone, feeling a bit ridiculous over your own reactions but you couldn’t help but think about his soft pink hair and the piercings your mom would definitely disapprove of. She glared at Heejin’s bare skin every time she came over during the summer so you couldn’t imagine her reaction to seeing Heeseung’s group of friends.

“I was just calling to make sure you were still going to the show and Sunghoon said I should tell you to bring your friends.” He was explaining in a low tone and you could hear shushing in the background, your smile widening at the realization he was around some of his friends. “I’m pretty sure he’s just trying to convince Heejin to give him a tattoo but it would be safer anyways with more people.”

“Alright, yeah we’ll be there.” You were telling him back swiftly and you surprised yourself by how naturally it came out of your mouth, no stutter or hesitation.

“Cool.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice as he said the word again, almost repeating it like he did the first time but seemingly catching himself before he did. “I’ll see you there then?”

“Yeah… yeah you will.”

——

“So he like directly invited you.” Riki was asking for the sixth time that night and you sighed softly when he was bumping his elbow into your arm with a smile on his face, clearly excited about the recent development in your life.

“Is it that surprising?” Your tone was stiff along with your posture, somehow once again finding yourself in a cold line outside of a random concert venue downtown.

“Not at all Y/N.” Sunoo was quickly interjecting once he realized you were taking offense to their over excitement, offering him a small tired smile due to his habit of trying to make you feel better. “We are just happy for you.”

You were about to remind him that there was no reason to be happy or excited and that you and Heeseung had just gotten along, nothing else, but you were interrupted by the staff who was checking tickets approaching your group. You watched as he took a look at Riki’s and then his school ID, promptly marking his hand with a solid black X before he was turning towards you expectantly.

He was looking at your ID with a bored expression but before he was able to hand it back to you and give you a similar marking, he paused and did a double take as he looked at the words. “Y/N? You’re on the list.”

“The list?” Your voice was soft in confusion and buried under the sound of your friends excited squeals and laughters, feeling Joonie’s hands come up to squeeze your shoulders and shake you softly.

You weren’t understanding what was happening until you were being moved forward, hearing Heejin clarify that you all were allowed early entry before she was smiling brightly and practically caring you with the rest of them as you entered the venue ahead of everybody else. You felt a flush come up to your cheeks when you realized that Heeseung had clearly mentioned you to the staff of the building and that’s why you were currently skipping the line and heading towards the back of the venue.

It was a different place than last time, bigger and seemingly more concert specific in comparison to the bar you were at last time.

The staff member was leading you down a hallway until you were stopped in front of a door with chipping paint, a piece of paper stuck to it with tape and the bands name in big sharpie letters. You smiled softly at their names all scribbled around the bold font, knowing they must’ve stuck it outside themselves as a mock dressing room.

You felt a wave of anxiety rush up with the employee was knocking on the door twice before turning to head back outside and control the growing crowd but you didn’t have any time to panic before it was being thrown open.

“You came.” Heeseung’s eyes were wide as he looked down at you in surprise and you were parting your lips to answer him before your friends were impatiently pushing into the room, practically shoving you forward into him.

He helped steady you when you made a small noise of surprise and you were glancing up at him in embarrassment, face undoubtedly red considering he was holding onto your arms even once your feet were flat on the ground. “You look…”

You felt overwhelming self conscious when his gaze was dropping down, scanning over your outfit and body before meeting your eyes again. You’d mistakenly let Heejin and Joonie dress you after they practically spent two hours begging, remembering how awkward you felt being improperly dressed last time.

It felt even worse to be in clothes you weren’t at all used to or comfortable with and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking just based off his expression.

“It looks really good.” He was breathing out finally and you felt a wave of relief at his statement, and then self judgment for caring what he thought in the first place. “Are you sure you’ll be comfortable though? I have a sweater you can wear.”

You froze up slightly as he continued to speak to you in a calm voice, somehow sensing your anxiety over the outfit despite only speaking to you a few times. You were half flattered that he cared enough to lend you some clothes and half humiliated that he could tell you didn’t normally wear things like this.

He must’ve seen outfits like this on hundreds of girls every time he had a show, knowing half the crowd would be dressed similarly to you but wearing it with a confidence and aura that you severely lacked. You didn’t have an overwhelming presence like Heejin or an alluring personality like Joonie and you’d always felt bland in comparison.

You were awkwardly glancing around the makeshift dressing room and pleased to see your friends and the band engaging in their own excited conversations and not paying you any mind.

Then your gaze was landing on one of the mirrors across the room and you were freezing up when you caught sight of you and Heeseung, still standing closer than you’d thought you were with his hands touching your arms. You almost didn’t recognize yourself for a second and despite how awful the clothes felt against your skin, you couldn’t deny that you looked good standing next to him and his similar aesthetic.

“I’ll be alright.” You were turning back to him to answer his question definitively and you tried to hold eye contact with him for a second, easier considering his hair was falling into his face again.

He was wearing eyeliner like he had been the first time you’d seen him outside the venue but it was a lot bolder and messier this time, making his eyes even bigger than they already were but completely changing his energy and appearance in comparison to the version of him you’d seen in his basement.

“Are you nervous?” You weren’t sure why that was the next thing you said to him but his eyes lit up when you whispered the question, staring up at him with wide eyes and saying it so softly he almost didn’t catch it underneath the loud crowd in the distance and your friends behind him.

“I’m excited.” He was responding back and you knew he meant it, no sign of apprehension or hesitation on his face.

You’d never seen somebody look as intense as Heeseung did when he talked about performing, his entire demeanor changing from the awkward boy who you’d been speaking to, almost seeming unsure of himself after every sentence. He didn’t even seem to think at all when he spoke about music or being on stage and you watched him curiously as he rambled on about how it felt to be up there.

You figured he probably knew you wouldn’t ever be able to understand what he was talking about unless you did it yourself but you still felt giddy that he wanted to explain it to you.

He talked about it until another team member was poking his head in to let the boys know that soundcheck was about to start and then the doors would open, also being you and your friends queue to go and get spots in the front row.

“I’ll see you out there then?” He was smiling down at you and giving a gentle squeeze to your arm that he was still holding, your own breaking out on your face despite trying to withhold and you gave him a small nod of approval before he was disappearing out the door after the others.

Your friends were obviously excited for having caught the end of your interaction and although you rolled your eyes as they begun to tease you, you couldn’t rid yourself of the bright grin you were catching between your lips and you started to head back out into the hallway and towards where the crowd would be standing.

You felt okay for now but you were starting to get more and more anxious at the realization that soon the mass of people would surge inside towards you and you’d be stuck in your place against the barricade, white knuckling it as you contemplated heading to the back of the venue and watching from there instead so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself by having a panic attack right in front of the band.

“You know..” Heejin was leaning in against your side to whisper into your ear and you felt her hand squeezing your side affectionately. “Jake said that Heeseung’s never invited anybody to a show before.”

She was pulling away just in time to see your eyes widen in surprise, followed by your face flushing a bright red at the knowing look she was giving you. “Not even his family?”

You knew that the bands music wouldn’t necessarily be everybody’s personal taste, especially those of an older generation, but you couldn’t help but feel slightly confused that he wouldn’t ever ask anybody to come watch him perform. He was clearly proud of what he had created and more passionate than anyone you’d met before.

“It’s just him and his dad I guess.” She was shrugging softly and glancing up at the stage as she spoke. “Apparently he’s a huge hard ass about him doing music.”

Your face was falling into a small frown at what she was saying but you didn’t have a chance to respond before the lights were shutting off and immediately being replaced by the same red ones the other venue had put on for their set, hearing the sounds of the doors opening and feet swiftly approaching the stage.

Anxiety was immediately building up as you were getting more and more constricted in the crowd but you felt slightly better knowing your friends were around you, feeling Riki not so subtly shift his position so he was stood behind you and you weren’t going to be subject to any stranger pressing into your body.

You were going to turn and give him a grateful smile but you were cut off by the sounds of the crowd screaming louder than you’d ever heard, confused on what was causing it before you realized the boys were already coming out onto the stage.

They were only silhouettes at first without the spotlights turned on but you could tell it was Sunghoon who had ended up directly in front of you, glancing across the stage to see Heeseung on the other side beside Jungwon again like he had been the other weekend.

Then the lights were coming on, soft enough to keep the red glow but illuminating each member and their instruments. You smiled widely and couldn’t help the scream that leapt from your throat, joining in with your friends and the rest of the crowd as excitement started to fill you. You’d never been in a setting like this before and you were quickly understanding why it was so addicting.

You were already watching Heeseung from the moment he stepped on stage so you definitely didn’t miss the way his eyes were scanning the front section of the crowd, only settling once they passed by you before quickly backtracking as a smile curled up on his lips.

Jungwon was starting to speak into the mic and introduce them like you’d heard him do last week but you were preoccupied, watching the pink haired boy and giving him a small nod of acknowledgment with a soft smile.

Then the show was starting and you quickly realized that what you had seen last time was nothing in comparison to actually being in the crowd, an energy taking over you that you didn’t even know you possessed. You were dancing along with Heejin and gripping Sunoo’s arm in excitement as he screamed and sang along, all the while keeping your eyes on Heeseung.

He was almost like a completely different person on stage, more than just his energy considering the fact even his gaze was new to you. He was a lot more intimidating when he was staring down at you with hooded eyes, the eyeliner more smudge now and thankfully distracting you from the skillful way his fingers moved along the guitar strings.

It was hard not to think about him to the level you’d been trying to deny when he was looking at you for almost the entirety of the show, seemingly checking on you when the crowd got particularly wild and at other times almost looking smug because of how transfixed you seemed. His lip would curl into a cocky smirk that you didn’t even think he could manage and you’d feel your heart thump alive in a way it never had before.

You spent the next few months following this exact routine with him.

Every week, in the middle of it or sometimes as early as the day after a show, he’d call your house and your mom would yell your name up the stairs. He’d softly invite you to the next show and you’d excitedly tell him that you’d be there, despite knowing he already knew the answer and you knowing he just liked to hear you say it.

Sometimes you’d take your friends with you but eventually you got comfortable enough to go by yourself, you’d be let in early with a small smile to the bouncers and you’d always ask him the same question before he got on stage.

“Are you nervous?” You’d say for the dozenth time even though you knew by now that he wasn’t but every single time his eyes would light up with that fire and passion that you’d been so sucked in by and he’d always repeat the same words back in the same tone.

“I’m excited.”

Heeseung liked it best when you came to his shows so you did it every weekend you were free, even when you’d get too overwhelmed and have to sit in the dressing room or behind the stage if it was available, he just liked knowing you were there to see him and he expressed it to you every single time.

You got closer over that time outside of watching him play too, taking longer to get over that awkwardness you both carried outside of the venues when the adrenaline died down but eventually you’d stopped hanging out solely within your respective groups and started to spend some time alone together.

He’d pick you up in his shitty run down car and your mom would glare at him from the living room window, watching his hair go from pink to blue then to a red that had taken you back a few steps with its brightness when you’d first seen it.

“That’s.. a strong choice.” You’d said after you buckled your seatbelt and you were reaching forward to run your hand through it before you even had a second to think about it.

“My dad hates the color red.” Was all he had responded with and you watched the side of his face as he smiled softly and put the car into drive.

Heeseung wasn’t the most stable person to be around at times but you eventually realized that you’d never felt as comfortable taking up space as you did when you were with him, an addicting feeling that you almost had no choice but to lean forward into and you were thankful that he was always around to catch you.

You’d sit in the basement with the boys as they practiced new songs and Jake had even attempted to teach you to play some songs on the guitar, going to him for help because it felt less intimidating than asking one of the actual guitar players.

It was somehow easy to mesh into their routines and hobbies despite how different you were than them and your most fun high school memories all featured your old friends and new ones hanging out together, all packed into booths at late night diners after a particularly good show or getting makeshift tattoos from Heejin in the familiar basement that you’d spent most of the year in by the time graduation rolled around.

Heeseung was a year older than you and already graduated before you’d met him but he’d made sure to attend and watch you and your friends walk, minus Riki who still had a year left.

You’d all rushed out of the ceremony hall and squished in his car so you could drive across town and watch the rest of his friends at their own school, cheering for them all in your different colored graduation gowns and ignoring the embarrassed look on Jungwon’s face when he gave his class president speech at the beginning.

There were a lot of highs but it all came with lows too and those took you longer to adjust to.

You weren’t exactly sure how to handle it when Heeseung would show up at your house late at night, sometimes bleeding from various places on his face or panting like he’d run all the way there. You’d quickly pull him inside and ignore your moms questioning shout asking who was at the door.

Eventually you had sat her down after dinner and told her that sometimes Heeseung had issues with his dad and he didn’t have anywhere else to go, which was a slight lie on your part but you knew it felt true to him considering he never considered any other options before heading in your direction even if it was across town and a lot less welcoming than one of his friends houses.

She never was a big fan of him, of any of your friends but especially him, despite the gentle way he always said hello to her upon entry and his countless attempts to get on her good side. You’d tried to explain to him that it wasn’t anything personal or anything he was doing wrong and it was just how your mother was but he seemed particularly upset about it despite normally not caring what people thought of him.

“It’s your mom, it’s different.” He was stressing his words to emphasize that it was because she was related to you that it mattered to him and you were furrowing your eyebrows and turning to look at him.

You were sat on your bed together, two months before it happened, and sharing a pair of headphones that was playing a scratchy demo of a song he’d been working on. You were popping the tape out of the device so it would stop abruptly as you sat up a little bit to be able to see his face better.

“Why do you say stuff like that?” You were asking him and he sighed softly like he always did when you begun to pry for answers regarding his behavior towards you.

Despite the way you felt around him and the fact you’d practically become inseparable in the summer following graduation, you’d never directly talked about what your relationship was or even crossed a line that would definitely give you an unspoken answer. Outside of some longing glances and hands resting a little too low on your back, you’d remained pretty platonic other than your own inner thoughts and emotions.

“Don’t know.” He was mumbling softly as he looked at you and you squinted your eyes at him in disbelief but eventually you sighed and shifted back so you were resting against your headboard again, shoulder pressed into his tightly.

When it finally happened, you pretty much assumed that your life was going to abruptly end.

The boys had been growing in popularity now that they were out of school and able to do music full time, still underaged but building enough connections with the local music scene and venues to be able to play more frequently and to older and grittier crowds.

Mixed with the rise of the internet and MTV music videos filled with long haired rockstars and half naked women, it didn’t take long for their talents to get noticed by a few different people who swore they were from the next big company and could guarantee to make Echoes of Riot each millionaires respectfully, offers that were all swiftly turned down by Heeseung (with the advice of Sunoo who had begun to fill a management like role within the group).

You’d never paid much mind to what stardom would mean for the boys despite believing to the deepest part of your heart that they deserved it and were more talented than most the people you heard over the radio. For some reason, some childish idiotic reason, you figured they’d spend the rest of your lives being teenagers playing in bars around your small hometown.

Then one night after a particularly long show, all the boys panting and sweaty as they headed back to their dressing rooms, a man had approached them similarly to the way others did almost nightly.

You knew right away that something was different this time and your friends did too, watching silently as the group stopped in their steps towards the back rooms and actually begun to pay attention to what the man was saying. Heeseung’s eyes were flickering up to yours and you raised your eyebrows at him from where you sat at the bar, shifting out of your seat when he beckoned you closer with a quick flick of his fingers.

The rest of your friends followed you and all of you made your way back to the rooms with the band and the man.

He didn’t seem at all bothered by the additional people in the room as he started to repeat his pitch behind closed doors and your heart started to clench nervously when you realized why he seemed so different.

Min Yoongi actually cared about the music quality and spreading a proper message through your work and performances, opening his monologue with descriptions of how he felt hearing and watching the videos Riki had been posting online of the group and you watched as his eyes twinkled with a passion you’d only ever seen before from the boy sitting next to you.

His hand was resting on your arm and draping over your shoulder on the couch but he couldn’t have been further away from you in that moment, holding onto every word Yoongi was saying and leaning forward occasionally to enthusiastically agree with something he was saying.

It was a jarring change after seeing him barely give the other music people a second of his time for the last few months but you understood that they had this connection you simply weren’t capable of understanding, a mutual trust built through having the same dream and passion and by the end of the first meeting, even without anything even halfway confirmed, you knew things were going to change from then on out.

Yoongi didn’t have a lot of money to invest into the boys but he was dedicated to promoting them and helping them with levels of production you’d only get with decades of experience, upping their discography to even higher levels and it wasn’t long before he was proving himself right.

“Tour?” Your voice was breaking around the word Heeseung had just said, continuing his sentence afterwards but you hadn’t heard a thing he’d said after that, your ears ringing as your face paled. “You’re leaving?”

He was faltering at the unexpected upset in your voice and you would’ve felt guilty for not matching his level of enthusiasm but you couldn’t help the wave of panic overwhelming you as you continued to try and process what he was saying.

“Hey, hey Y/N listen to me.” His voice was soft and you could feel his hand reaching forward to touch and cup your cheek, softly swiping his thumb over your smooth hot skin and shifting on the bed so he was closer to you. “It would only be for a few months, then I’d be coming back. We’d all be coming back.”

You’d somehow not processed the fact that going on tour meant the other boys would be also leaving with him and another wave of sickness swept over you at the realization you’d be losing most of your friends in one swoop, the most constant and positive thing in your entire life since you’d met them.

“I don’t want to leave, baby you know I’d never just leave.” He was quickly continuing when he realized he’d made it worse and your eyes shot up to him at the use of the pet name falling from his lips so casually despite never hearing it directed towards you before. He didn’t even seem to notice that he had said it and he was continuing on despite the surprise on your face. “But… I mean this is it.”

His words were vague but you knew exactly what they meant.

This was the end of the road for the life you’d been so happily living because despite how content and happy you were watching them play small and intimate shows, Heeseung had this hunger for more that would never be satisfied in a place like your hometown.

He didn’t mean to break your heart of course and you were definitely at fault for stupidly falling in love with a rockstar, falling victim to the oldest cliche in the book as you sat at the bus station and cried into Joonie’s shoulder. You watched as their tour bus got further and further out of sight before it was turning a corner and disappearing with all of them on it.

Things were the roughest they’d ever been for the first few months the boys were gone.

Your typical routine had been shattered and you were back to existing like a corpse, moving around from one task to the next with no real excitement or purpose. You’d never necessarily gained one but being around somebody as passionate and driven as Heeseung was like getting a secondhand high and you’d been riding the wave of his interest for the last year, now alone out at sea and stuck scrubbing the counters of a coffee shop in the small downtown area of your city.

You tried to write for the first month or two but eventually it got too hard for you to handle and you started to let Heeseung’s letters pile up. He’d still call your home phone but your mom stopped letting you know when he did and sometimes you’d hear her softly telling him that you weren’t feeling good and she’d have you call back later. She never brought it up and neither did you.

He’d call Heejin and Riki too and sometimes you’d hear his voice when you were talking to Sunoo on the phone. He’d went with them on tour after Yoongi had asked him to be their official team manager, giving him more time to handle the business side of things while Sunoo dealt with their personal schedules and issues. You’d listen to your friend lie and say he was talking to his sister and you’d thank him softly as he sighed and asked why you couldn’t just talk to your shared friend.

You didn’t know how to explain that Heeseung was something you needed to get clean from and hearing from him in small doses would make it ten times harder for you to function.

It was too much to say that his letters kept you awake all night crying as you read about how much he missed you followed by random sketches and song lyrics he was writing about you. They wouldn’t understand why you dropped a full plate of food the first time you heard them on the radio at work or why you stayed up all night to see their first actual interview on TV.

Eventually people stopped mentioning the band to you or at least spoke like the main guitarist and face of the group didn’t exist. It was easy enough to avoid for the first six months and then the articles started to roll out.

The boys hadn’t come home after their first tour and they were “temporarily” staying out in New York where there was more of a network and better opportunities. Part of you was grateful Heeseung hadn’t moved back to town, knowing you’d run into him eventually but you couldn’t stop thinking about him regardless considering the news being put out with his name on the headlines.

“That’s his third fight this week Sunoo.” You were spitting over the phone, balancing it between your shoulder and ear as you aggressively scrubbed at a dish that’d already been clean for the past few minutes. “Aren’t you supposed to be keeping them in check?”

“You don’t think I’m trying Y/N?” His voice was exhausted and desperate and you felt bad immediately for snapping at him, knowing your real anger didn’t result from him. “I have no idea what to do, I’ve never seen him like this.”

All the boys had been subject to some controversy as they continued to gain quick fame and admirers but like always, your brain was laser focused on Heeseung. He was getting into drunken fights routinely and being reported with multiple women who may or may not be fans who like to kiss and tell, photos of him and the other boys looking worse and worse each passing weekend as their rockstar lifestyle truly blossomed into an absolute disaster.

Eventually you started to find yourself ignoring the news again, becoming accustomed to it and already knowing what it was going to be every time Riki sighed entering your job and slid a magazine in your direction.

Three years passed like this and while you had stopped crying every night from how much you missed Heeseung and your other friends, if you could even consider them that considering the lack of communication over the years, you still felt that empty feeling in your skin as you robotically went about your routines and lifeless activities that didn’t hold any real purpose or grand result.

At the end of the third year, stretching into a point where you’d been away from Heeseung longer than you were ever with him, Heejin had told you that the band was back in town.

She’d called you and hesitantly let you know that she had run into Jay at the local grocery store a few hours ago, citing that she hadn’t thought much about it until she was back at her tattoo shop and thinking about you possibly running into one of the boys for as long as they stuck around this time. You’d thanked her for the heads up and then buried your head into your arms in upset, both at how little distance was between you and Heeseung and also regarding the fact Sunoo hadn’t even bothered to tell you they were around.

Half of you expected it, knowing you weren’t teenagers anymore standing in a cold concert line and he didn’t owe you any update on his whereabouts, clearly not telling Heejin either considering her shock upon seeing a familiar face.

Joonie however seemed to know all about it when you hesitatingly mentioned it over lunch with her and Riki after he’d asked you why you seemed so on edge. “Well it’s been on their tour show list for like four months.”

“And you didn’t think to tell anyone?” Riki was voicing your thoughts before you could and his face was curled up in annoyance and betrayal as he shoved a fry into his mouth, clearly just as caught off guard as you and hurt considering he’d also gotten close to the members before they’d left and he was friends with Sunoo for as long as you.

“You always tell me not to talk about them in front of Y/N.” She was whining out and you glanced at the younger boy who looked slightly sheepish as she said something he clearly meant to keep private.

She wasn’t necessarily wrong and you’d grown to realize being around her was going to be hard considering how big of a fan she remained of the band even after their decline into scandal, simultaneously acting like any other fan girl and somehow also constantly bragging to others about how she knew them personally before they’d blown up. Maybe she had mentioned their return at some point but it’d been years since you started to tune her out.

“So they’re not staying?” You were finally speaking again, your voice weak and curious and she gave you a knowing look before nodding and patting your hand.

You weren’t sure why you felt overwhelmingly disappointed that they’d eventually leave again despite the fact you planned to spend the entire time they were here avoiding them and hiding out in your apartment. It was probably for the same reason she was giving you a pity filled look and Riki was picking at the skin around his nails.

It only took a few days for Joonie to push the limit on how much of her interest in the band you could take, answering her late night call to hear her hysterical as she screamed over the sound of passing cars and told you she’d completely stalled on the highway and was going to miss the show.

You told yourself that you began immediately putting on your shoes and grabbing your keys because you were a good friend and you kept repeating it in your head the entire drive to her location, swearing over and over that it had nothing to do with putting yourself closer to Heeseung. Even after her and her two friends had gotten in your car with his face on their tshirts, you swallowed your tongue and promised your heart it wasn’t for any other reason.

It wasn’t because you wanted to see the thousands of fans outside the arena, the show being on the nicer side of town and twenty minutes away from the venues they used to hold small performances for.

They thanked you continuously as you parked and then Joonie was pulling you aside to guilty whisper that you’d need to get your parking validate to be able to leave and return to pick them back up. A wave of nausea rolled over you but you were still convincing yourself you didn’t care so you swallowed your sickness and gave her a tight smile before following them outside the car.

“The booths over there.” She was telling you once you’d gotten inside and she had a wide smile on her face that matched her friends, clutching her ticket and practically beaming with excitement. “So we’ll see you at 11:30?”

“Mhm.” You didn’t trust your voice enough to speak and not give away how you were feeling so you hummed out a response to her question you barely processed before watching them squeal and walk towards the actual check in and entrance.

You rubbed your fingers together anxiously before glancing to your right and sighing seeing the line of people waiting to get their parking validated, teenage girls who looked like they barely could drive mixed in with dads and boyfriends who looked just as exhausted and irritated as you were starting to feel.

For a second you considered just leaving the girls there and asking Heejin or Riki to pick them up afterwards so you could drink yourself delirious and forget you’d ever been this close to the band but your heart clenched thinking about them having to experience the same thing and you told yourself again that you were trying to be a good friend.

You’d been standing in the line for twenty minutes, holding onto your last strand of patience and curiously listening to the fans around you talking about the boys with so much awe and wonderment.

You couldn’t help but smile at some things, hearing them gush about Jungwon’s cheeks or rave about how sexy Sunghoon’s newest guitar was and you felt a bit stupid for the pride filling your chest. You’d been avoiding them and their music, never listening to anything they’d put out in recent years but you felt happy for them knowing they were still igniting that same excitement in people even if they seemed to have lost the passion themselves.

It was almost exactly twenty one minutes later when you were feeling something tap against your shoulder, whipping your head to the side to see who had bumped into you before freezing up completely.

He had a mask on and a hat almost covering his eyes but you knew immediately who it was, eyes widening as you looked at him and then glanced around your surroundings to see if anybody had recognized him too.

“The fans don’t pay much attention to anyone without an instrument.” Sunoo was saying and you could hear him smiling even if you couldn’t see most of his face, breathing out a sigh of relief and pulling him in for a hug before you had a second to think about it.

He accepted it immediately and you were grateful that he wasn’t being distant with you despite the fact that was all you’d shown each other in recent years, melting into your hold as your eyes pricked with tears considering how much taller and thinner he was now. Sometimes when you thought of the boys, they were frozen in time and still teenagers in your head and you felt a bit dizzy as the illusion broke right in front of you.

“How’d you know I was here?” You were whispering out into his chest and then pulling back to stare up at him in amazement, scanning over his covered face.

“Sunghoon saw the hundreds of messages Joonie had sent… she actually had the guts to ask him to pick her up after her car stalled.” He was explaining and you felt embarrassed for your friend even though Sunoo was laughing like it was something funny. You got annoyed with her behavior but she was still your friend and you almost felt offended for her knowing they’d all been laughing at her attempts to reach out, no matter how baseless her connection with them seemed on their side. “We figured that you would’ve been the one to answer her calls.”

“We?” You were asking the second the word fell from his lips and a flash of regret passed over his face. “Do they all know I’m here?”

“Except for him.” He was explaining and you felt his hand squeezing your arm to try and calm you down, a flash of familiarity running through you at the feeling despite slowly recognizing the boy in front of you less and less. “But I imagine one of them is going to slip up sooner or later.”

You were nodding in understanding but your heart started to thump with anxiety and you were grateful that the arena was so full, hoping Heeseung wasn’t dumb enough to run out into a waiting room of fans to try and see you.

“I have to go.” You were practically forcing the words out and your face was pulling into a grimace as you said them, feeling short of breath and dizzy as your past and present finally started to collide despite your years of effort. “Can you…”

You were gesturing towards the parking validation ticket in your hand and he glanced down at it before looking back at your panicked eyes and nodding softly, squeezing your arm one more time before he was taking it and giving you the go ahead to get out of the arena before your chest exploded.

You didn’t know exactly what to say to him, you weren’t sure if this was a see you later or another long term goodbye and he seemed to be thinking the same thing, nodding again when you smiled sadly at him and took a few steps backwards.

Nearly losing your footing as you turned around, you were dizzyingly making your way out of the arenas main center and pushing back out into the chilled air. Your lungs tried to suck in deep breaths and you hurriedly made your way back to the parking garage but you were failing miserably and you eventually gave up all together, pausing in your quick strides and resting again the building with your eyes shut tight.

It wasn’t at all quiet, fans still gathered outside before the show and traffic beeps and honks as people tried to get in and out of the busy area, but your head felt empty and shut down.

The sound of footsteps approaching you crept into your dizzy brain and you took a deep breath before looking up, somehow already knowing who it was going to be without so much as a glance. He was stopping a few feet away from you when you looked up and your legs felt weaker as you stared at him in silence.

He was wearing a mask and a hat like Sunoo and whilst you’d been disappointed earlier about not being able to see your old friends face, now you were extremely grateful for the coverage. It didn’t help much considering you could still see the most recognizable part of him, his big eyes blinking at you in shock.

“You don’t look that surprised.” Heeseung’s voice was shockingly similar to how it was last time you’d heard it in person, the tone only slightly deeper and the only major change being the lifelessness behind his words as he watched you stand up straight.

He was right, for some reason you weren’t at all shocked to see him in front of you but he was in the same spot as you considering he came to find you in the first place. “Should I be? You’re here aren’t you?”

You heard him scoff softly before he was turning his head to look around the area, handful of fans still wandering around but slowly starting to disperse as they made their way insides to find their seats and buy the merch. He was glancing back at you quickly and then he was reaching up to take his mask off.

He didn’t say anything for a while after he took it off and you just stared at him, scanning over his face and the difference that time had handed to him. His features were a lot sharper now, growing into his nose and ears perfectly and you once again were hit with the reality that you’d been apart for a long time and the boy you knew was long gone.

“Sunoo validated your ticket.” He was starting to speak suddenly, awkwardness seeping into his tone due to your prolonged silent stare and you watched him dig into his pocket to retrieve the crumbled up piece of paper the parking machine had given you. “He got busy so I just brought it out.”

“He got busy?” You questioned and took a step forward away from the building, taking it from him swiftly and wincing when your finger brushed against his. “You’re the one in the band.”

He didn’t say anything to that, clearly lying about why he had been the one to bring the ticket out but making no move to correct himself or attempt to be honest with you. You didn’t really mind considering you were in a similar boat, having no real reason to rest again the building like you had other than buying yourself more time in the area.

“You’re not staying?” He was asking and his voice broke slightly which caused a large frown to form on your face, not sure why he had to even ask considering you both knew you weren’t going to watch his show.

“I’ll be back after to..” You awkwardly trailed off and lifted your hand that was clutching the parking ticket, indicating the reason you were there and watching him carefully. “Are you nervous?”

He tensed up as the familiar words fell from your lips and you felt like the air stopped moving for a second before he answered. He’d heard it asked thousands of times since it last was in your voice in that specific tone but it never bothered him before after the first year.

It was asked genuinely by other people, actually wondering if he was feeling nervous or at times doubting his abilities and using it as a way to get under his skin. Nobody ever made the simple question feel as important as you did and he understood why now that he was older and had plenty of time to think about it. You asked him, not because you thought he was or you figured he wouldn’t be able to handle the stage and the pressure, but because you knew it ignited a fire in him.

You’d ask him just to hear him repeat back in a firm voice how excited he was, to see that passion flare up in his eyes and give him an opportunity to voice some solid self confidence before he got up there to perform.

You knew right away that the phrase brought him back as far in time as it did you but your stomach turned at the blank look on his face, nothing arising to the surface at the triggered memory and instead he almost looked like he was deflating as you stood there.

“I’m just… tired.” He was eventually muttering back and clearing his throat before anxiously scratching at the back of his neck, both of you knowing the weight of his unusual answer and preparing to cripple under it once you were out of the suffocating hold his gaze had on you.

The both of you stood there for a few seconds longer before you could hear the screaming getting louder from inside, his head turning towards the building before looking back at you with a defeated expression. You knew without him saying it that he needed to go and that same feeling you had with Sunoo started to creep up again, not knowing what type of goodbye this was.

“There’s a second show tomorrow.” He was rushing out and then chewing on his lip ring as he avoided your questioning gaze. “You’ll be on the list.”

He glanced at you one more time but he seemed to understand that you weren’t going to give him a definite response, nodding his head in conclusion before he was turning around and jogging back towards the side entrance of the arena.

All the air returned to your lungs once he was finally out of sight and then immediately left again once you broke into a heavy sob, stumbling back a bit before quickly gathering your emotions and trying your best to hold yourself together.

You were quickly wiping your tears and glancing around to make sure nobody had been a witness to your abrupt meltdown, reminding yourself why you were there in the first place and heading back to your car like your world hadn’t just been taken off pause.

——

It had only taken you two seconds after the invitation fell from Heeseung’s lips to decide that you were going to go to the show.

He had said it like it was a question but the look in his eye told you that he didn’t think you’d come, but he still had invited you and that stupid part of you felt like that had to mean something. You’d had Riki pick the girls up from the concert that night and you ignored Joonie’s calls and the countless uploads she’d had from the concert.

You didn’t need to see the boys performing like nothing had happened, like your entire life hadn’t been flipped outside down with just a few sentences from the boy you’d tried your hardest to forget about the past few years.

It was a bit hypocritical considering you were currently back at the same exact place you were running from yesterday, this time walking in the opposite direction of the parking validation booth and awkwardly approaching the ticketing line. You felt like an idiot telling the staff that you were on the list, seeing their annoyed expressions and knowing they must hear it a dozen times a night from fan girls trying to get backstage.

“Nice try but there’s only ever been one name on the list and trust me, that seats never been taken.” The man was talking to you in a bored tone and your heart clenched at the implication of what he was saying.

You wondered if it was something Heeseung had done at the beginning of the tour in case you decided to come to one of the shows but he knew you well enough to know you never would and you certainly would never stride in the place without a ticket expecting to be on the list.

Eventually you figured that he had put you on there with the hopes that one day he’d have the guts to invite you and your heart shattered a bit more thinking about the fact that he never did, never even attempting as far as you were concerned and aware of. You cleared your throat awkwardly and rummaged in your bag to pull out your ID and hand it to the man silently.

His eyes flickered down to it for a second before looking back up at your face and you saw a wave of shock come over him, immediately followed by embarrassment for doubting you in the first place.

You gave him an awkward half smile and then an appreciative nod when he was stepping aside and allowing you to enter the main performance area. You were pausing at the top of the entrance way, eyes scanning over the large arena and feeling a bit sick considering how many seats were there and how few of them were empty.

You were starting to regret showing up and preparing to turn around and head back out before the show started but you were snapped out of your panic when your phone was ringing in your pocket. You were snatching it out in hopes that it was one of your friends trying to calm you down but your eyebrows furrowed when you saw it was an unknown number.

Finger hovering over the decline button, you had half the mind to consider the fact it might be Heeseung and you were answering it and putting it to your ear before you had a second to think about it.

“You actually came.” You immediately tensed up when the voice was filtering through the speaker, different and raspier but you knew who it was from the first word.

“How do you know I’m here?” You were dumbly asking and glancing around you like he was going to be standing in the shadows somewhere, frowning slightly when he laughed into the phone.

“He told them to alert him immediately if you ever showed up.” Jake was saying as an explanation and halfway confirming your suspicions about how long you’d been kept on the list despite never coming or reaching out to them. “And you’re finally here.”

“I’m not staying.” You were saying quickly and a rough edge seeped into your voice, something you hadn’t had last time he knew you but he also hadn’t been so cocky and demeaning last time you spoke to him so you were equal in that sense.

He was sighing softly and you paused at the sound, not expecting him to sound so defeated. You’d spoken to Jake more than the others over the years, only a few times but he had come home once or twice to visit family and it was hard to avoid him considering he actively was seeking you and the others out each time.

You weren’t really sure why he kept coming around and eventually you realized that he didn’t seem to know why either, looking more and more lost and less like himself every time you saw him. Jake was always so carefree and happy to be around that time you’d all spent together, genuinely seeming like he felt lucky for all of you and the music they were making together.

This new version of him was the most jarring to you out of everybody else because he had gotten sad and then he had gotten very very cold, almost angry every time you saw him and always feeling like he was on the edge of snapping.

You imagine that helped him out on the stage and you finally felt like he fit the rough drummer image that had been given to him by fans and media despite never making that connection yourself when you had known him. So to hear him sigh softly hearing that you were planning on leaving before they even performed, you were stopping in your tracks and finding yourself willing to hear him out.

“He doesn’t know you’re here yet and he’s driving himself so insane that he’s sick in the bathroom.” He was saying in a lower tone and you imagined that staff and other members were around him considering how soon the show was going to start. “No one can get him to come out but I have a feeling on who might.”

Tears were filling your eyes as he spoke about Heeseung’s condition but you were shaking your head in denial despite the fact he couldn’t see you, wiping your face with your sleeve before whispering back to him in a shaky tone. “I can’t do this Jake.”

“Please Y/N.” He was quickly retorting back and he sounded so similar to how he used to that you felt floored. His tone was genuine and filled with concern for his friend and you’d almost forgotten what he sounded like when he cared about something. “All these years you haven’t answered him, please don’t leave yet. Atleast get him on stage and then you can go and I’ll make sure he can’t find you for the rest of the time we’re here.”

Your breath was catching at the last half of his rushed statement and you were covering your mouth for a second with a shaky hand. It took you a few breaths to think of what to say and he stayed silent on the other line throughout it.

“Promise me.” You were mumbling out and clutching the device so hard you were worried it would crack, hearing nothing on the other side for a bit as your stomach bubbled with thick anxiety. “Promise me you’ll keep him away from me after this.”

It went silent again and you were almost positive that he had hung up the phone before he was speaking again in a defeated tone. “I promise.”

——

If you had gone back to the week before and told yourself that you’d be standing in a room with all of your old friends, you would’ve probably hid under the counter at work and begged future you to leave you alone.

You were trying your best to not showcase the fact that you were absolutely freaking out and filling with more and more devastation every time one of them spoke in their lifeless and annoyed tones, bickering behind you about the purpose of your presence and debating wether it was a good idea or not to allow you to be the one to try and gather Heeseung.

“He invited her for a reason Hoon.” Sunoo was sighing in your defense but he didn’t seem optimistic about it either, barely sparing you a glance since you walked through the door and anxiously checking his walkie talkie every few minutes to try and update the staff.

“Because he saw her yesterday and it fucked him up, he’s not in his right mind.” Jay was snapping before Sunghoon could answer for himself and you flinched at his loud tone, taking a step back when he was standing off the couch and throwing an arm in your general direction to emphasize that it was your fault.

You were frowning deeply at the accusation, not understanding how it could possibly be your fault that Heeseung was having a melt down especially when they didn’t seem that rare for him, his general anxiety and mental health another constant topic in the tabloids.

They continued to argue and you did your best to tune them out while simultaneously trying to ignore the fact Jungwon was silently staring at you from the corner and Jake was only a few feet away from you with his arms crossed. He hadn’t said much to come to your defense but he was continuously shooting you glances like he was trying to monitor your reactions.

You might as well have been in a room full of amped up strangers, possibly high as they paced and jittered about and a part of you felt like you were grieving now that you knew there would be no way to pretend things were still the same, no more pretending time was frozen and nothing had changed.

“Have any of you been able to calm him down this entire time?” You were suddenly asking from near the wall and it was the first time you’d spoken since you’d gotten in there.

The reaction was immediate and varying from each boy, half of them tensing up and looking more frustrated at the sound of your familiar voice and the others almost instantaneously losing the tension in their shoulders with softened eyes. It was like they hadn’t fully processed you being there until you spoke, talking around you in hypotheticals like you imagined they’d been doing over the years.

You wondered if you were a topic they were supposed to avoid mentioning like Heeseung had become for you. Then you selfishly wondered if they’d missed you at all.

Nobody answered for a while and then Jungwon was shaking his head softly, holding your gaze with a sympathetic look that caused you to nod in understanding. “Isn’t it worth a try then?”

“We have 15 minutes.” Sunghoon was saying in that same cold tone he’d been using but it held some level of defeat this time, slumping back into the couch and saying no form of the objection he had voiced so quickly earlier.

You were being directed to a hallway suddenly by Sunoo and before you could say anything or ask why he was ushering you out, he was hastily pointing to a door and scurrying off back towards the dressing room. You didn’t necessarily need him to explain, hearing the soft sobs and gags coming from behind the door now, but you wished he had given you a bit more time to collect yourself or think of something to say.

You took a deep breath and decided to not stall and try to gather some of the might you had the other night, pushing through the door and pausing once you were on the other side of it.

“If I have to tell you to fuck off one more time I’m going to get everybody in this shitty arena fired.”

Heeseung’s voice was coming from one of the stalls and your entire body locked up at the sound of it, never hearing him quite so angry before but also never hearing him sound so empty and wrecked. He was clearly holding back his sobs now that somebody was in there but you could see one of his leather boots poking into the stall next to his, laying on the floor and most likely clutching the toilet.

You were approaching the plastic door without saying anything and tugging on it softly once you were close to it, your fingers curling around the top of it and pulling it towards you with a small shake.

Heeseung’s words about the arena being shitty weren’t necessarily incorrect considering the lock on the door was immediately budging and it was flying open towards you, revealing you standing behind it to his swollen eyes and allowing you to see his frame curled up on the floor in a sickened despair.

He looked beyond surprised to see you and you were almost worried he was going to throw up again just from the shock of your arrival, his body locking up and then immediately tensing even more when you were taking a reluctant step inside the stall with him. You may have been practically strangers with a heavy history now but you still knew Heeseung better than you knew yourself most days and you felt that same comfort and familiarity as you always did.

So you were sinking to the dirty floor across from him and sighing softly, letting your head lean against the wall of the stall and glancing at him hesitantly.

“You came.” He was finally breathing out and his voice sounded tight because of your close proximity, not necessarily touching but the closest you’d been in almost half a decade. He was struggling to sit up but he eventually managed and stretched his legs out in your direction, both of you sitting in the same position across from each other.

“You invited me.” You whispered back to him with a small sad smile that was slipping away as fast as it came. “I was on the list.”

He didn’t laugh but you could tell he appreciated your attempts to lighten the situation, eyes softening slightly at the way your shoulders raised into a small casual shrug.

“What’s happening Heeseung?” You were asking him but you both knew what it was already and you felt just as sick as he looked as you said his name, almost feeling like a swear word as it fell from your lips naturally. “Why are we here right now?”

“You…” He was pausing as his voice shook and you watched him closely, not missing the way he was avoiding looking in your direction and instead staring down at the shaky hands that were picking at his fingers in his lap. “You stopped answering the letters, you wouldn’t talk to me anymore.”

Your shoulders deflated as he spoke in a hurt voice, clearly being bothered by your lack of communication and not at all understanding why you had done it in the first place. You admit that it was a bit childish on your side to completely cut him off without a final conversation but you knew Heeseung would never just let you go like you needed.

“It was only supposed to be a few months Hee, you said you’d come home and you never did.” You tried to keep your tone less accusatory than his but you were also extremely hurt by what he had done.

You’d spend the entirety of your time with Heeseung making him your source of happiness and that was your first mistake because he was always bound to leave. He was always set after something much bigger than your town could ever offer but you guess a stupid part of you thought that you would be enough for him to stay.

You didn’t want him to give up his dreams, it was the entire reason you fell for him in the first place but you just wished time could stay frozen in that summer.

It’d been years and you still could feel him sitting next to you, never smoking with the others because you didn’t even though you knew he did it when you weren’t around. He was always supporting you like that and even though neither of you ever said it out loud, you knew he loved you too. It wasn’t his fault that he loved music more and you could never compare to the feeling it gave him but you tried your hardest.

Sometimes you thought it was working, when he’d come over after practice and you’d lay together in your backyard with its overgrown grass. You’d feel it tickling against your bare skin when you laughed at a stupid joke he made and rolled in the other direction clutching your stomach.

Other times you were once again hit with the reminder that he was only temporary, you’d see him zone out listening over and over to tracks he’d been producing or his eyes would go wide with amazement any time you went to a show that wasn’t his.

And you were completely right about him being temporary up until now, watching him sit across from you with that broken expression on his face that made you sick every time you locked eyes with him. You weren’t sure what exactly started his decline, you felt guilt for playing a large part in it but you didn’t think it would be much difference if you had stuck around his life anyways.

Maybe you would’ve begged him to come home when he started going to star filled parties, too many drugs to avoid and too much pressure to fit in to not indulge. Maybe you would’ve called Yoongi and demanded for a hiatus, giving you some time to come see him or bring him back home for a week or two to calm him and his system down.

Maybe you wouldn’t have ended up on the dirty floor of a public bathroom where he was vomiting his guts out just a few minutes ago. You could’ve been back in your long grass or pressed next to him on his dads old couch, still just as young and just as silently inlove with the boy with pretty pink hair and eyes so wide and amazed you couldn’t help but drink them in.

“I would’ve stayed.” He was finally forcing out the words necessary to snap you from your thoughts, the words you’d been considering for the past few years. “If you told me to stay I would have in a second.”

“And then what?” You were retorting quickly but your tone was weak and sad instead of bitter and iced over, shaking your head softly and giving him another sad smile and humorless laugh as you considered the option. “We grow old together with you secretly hating me for ruining your dreams, I live with the guilt of making you do that.”

“I could never hate you. Nothing could ever make me hate you, trust me I’ve tried.” His tone was the opposite of yours, aggressive and nasty as he spat out the words like they burned but you knew his anger wasn’t directed at you necessarily.

You let the two of you fall into an unfamiliar silence, giving him time to collect himself before he accidentally said something he’d eventually end up regretting even more than he already was.

He didn’t say anything either and he seemed to understand what you were doing, sighing out a shuttered breath before he was scooting forward across the floor until his knees were knocking against yours. You glanced up at him and your face fell at the exhausted look on his face, leaning forward similarly until you could wrap your hands around his and squeeze them tightly with your thumbs rubbing over his calloused skin.

Heeseung was sucking in a breath at the feeling of you touching him and then he was breaking into small hiccuped sobs that left you feeling heavy and lost on what you could do to help him.

You were letting yourself sink back into the past when you were moving forward even more so you could pull him closer towards you, his upper half practically in your lap now as you cradled his head and softly pet his damp hair that was dyed black now and messily falling into his eyes.

Your own eyes were falling shut and you were resting yourself on top of him, half hugging each other and half just giving up and letting the weight of his body and yours combine into a mess of limbs and heavy sobs. It was making you feel both better and worse, feeling him so close again but not knowing if it was the last time and also holding the knowledge that you’d missed such a large portion of time with him like this.

It wasn’t possible to get back everything you’d missed, it wasn’t possible to rewind and start over and you weren’t sure there was any way to prevent this amount of hurt anyways.

You could’ve asked him to stay with you all those years ago but then you’d never see that light within him again and you know it would always be on the back of his mind, his fingers and heart always aching for more than what you could give him and you’d stay up countless nights regretting making him give that up for you.

Maybe if you had answered his letters, picked up his relentless calls and heard him out when he didn’t come home. He could’ve had a good reason or maybe just hearing him finally say he loved you would be enough for you to handle the impossible distance.

So many what ifs that you’d never get the answer to because you weren’t there and you’d never get back there again no matter how much your heart still held onto the past and your love together.

Instead you were here and this was where the road with him had led you, cradling each other as the crowd cheered for him outside and it fell on your deaf ears. You knew he wasn’t going to let you go and you weren’t going to make him, you weren’t going to make him choose again and you didn’t know if that would be enough this time but you listened to him cry and prayed it would be.

Heeseung sung out a choir of sobs and gasps into your chest and you knew you would stay with him for as long as he needed you too, until his cries died down or your legs went numb.

Until the cheers fell into silence and the fans went home for the night disappointed, at least holding the knowledge that the music would still be there tomorrow.

You still weren’t positive that he was really here with you and he still felt as fleeting and temporary as he did when you first had met him, wide eyed and stuttered conversations. It was only a small flicker of hope and comfort that your love for him was the most permanent thing you’d ever experienced.

And that small flicker was more than enough for you.

#enhypen #enhypen drabbles #enhypen fanfiction #heeseung #heeseung drabbles #heeseung x reader #jake enhypen #heeseung smut #sunghoon enhypen #heeseung fanfic #heeseung angst #heeseung au #heeseung fic #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen jay #sunoo enhypen #jungwon enhypen #enhypen riki #niki enhypen #enhypen au #enhypen smut #enhypen angst #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fic

[jedifarmerr]

Untimely - Joel Miller x F!Reader/OFC (AFAB).

Summary: Joel might have a little crush on his business partner, but it’s no big deal - really.

This can be read as either pre-canon or AU. Reader has a nickname, but physical description is a blank slate

Rating: E (18+ no minors)

Warnings/Tags: Joel’s POV, readers dad used to be Joel’s boss, discussion of absent parents (not reader), very minor discussion of parental death (again not reader), Joel is kinda awkward when it comes to dating, workplace relationship but without power dynamics, squint and you’ll find an age gap (no exact age is stated but she does have a college degree), pining and lots of it, denial of feelings and all that good stuff, and smut in general. I’m not gonna tag everything or this would get way too long but consent is clearly stated and does not have any major triggers (to my knowledge, but let me know if you catch something).

Word Count: 23,000. This was supposed to be a short one-shot, but got out of control. Oops. This is separated into two parts on AO3

Note: I’m back!! I know it’s been a hot minute, but I’m very very excited and very very nervous to share what I’ve been working on in my absence. But here it is!

---

The first full week of September, and Austin was deadlocked in a nasty heatwave. 

Days like this made Joel wish he’d chosen a job that involved a roof over his head – or maybe just a little shade. Anything would be better than being crushed under the weight of the cruel Texas sun as it poured down through the bare-bone house. Still, Joel hammered his way through it. Even as the sun baked his scalp and covered every inch of his skin in sweat. 

Joel flapped his shirt to dry the cotton sticking to his chest like silicone glue. His walk was more so a waddle, which was honestly his fault for wearing jeans. The denim chafed against his thighs while combing the work site for any loose supplies. All he wanted to do was hop into his work truck, blast the air conditioning and leave, but instead he diligently checked between every wooden beam and around every corner. Despite the lack of drywall leaving barely any hiding spots, it was insane how often Tommy forgot a power drill behind a tub of paint or cement. 

Or somewhere else incredibly stupid. 

Nothing major today, though. Just a few nails that jingled around in his tool belt as he stepped out onto the future front porch, immediately spotting Tommy. Kinda hard to miss with his big ass head poking out the driver side window while puffing on his daily post-work Marlboro. 

“The engine was making that funny noise again,” Tommy claimed, his voice echoing across the dirt lawns and unpaved driveways of the brand new subdivision. 

Joel walked past the rusty-white hood, but heard nothing other than the usual ancient roar. There was the radio in the cab playing Foolish Games by Jewel – a favorite of Sarah’s. 

“Funny noise, huh?” He eyed Tommy with blatant skepticism before slumping into the dusty cloth seat with a thunk. “Well, sounds like it’s fixed now.” 

“Oh yeah good as new.” Tommy burned the soul from his cigarette, then chucked the butt out the window. “This thing’s gotta be what - 10? 15 years old?” 

“Something like that.” Joel didn’t know off the top of his head. The truck had been a part of the company even longer than him, meaning it had to be somewhere closer to 15 than 10. From what he could recall it’d been a few years off mint condition even when Danny first hired him. 

“Then, how the hell is it still running?” 

“Danny’s a smart man who didn’t buy a shitty Chevy,” Joel lightheartedly jabbed at his little brother – a self-proclaimed Chevrolet man, but only because of his buddies. “He knew that Ford was better - built tough.” 

“Well, ain’t lookin’ too tough now,” Tommy pointed out and Joel shrugged. 

As long as the truck got him from one place to the next, he didn’t care if it was taped together by spit and gorilla glue. He knew for a fact Tommy wouldn’t complain either if a new one was coming out of his wallet instead. 

Tommy threw the truck into reverse. “I’m telling you now, you’re gonna regret not buying a new one sooner.” 

“What are you gonna do?” Joel snorted. “Put some sugar in the gas tank?” 

“I don’t have to sabotage this piece of shit - it’ll crap out on its own soon enough,” Tommy said. “Hell, it could even happen today.” 

“Better not,” Joel grumbled, but otherwise went quiet. He didn’t know why Tommy had to put that idea in his head. Sarah was waiting for him at the shop. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to break down. 

For a mile or so, Joel sat on the edge of his seat, carefully listening to the bumps and groans – typical for a truck around Sarah’s age. The engine rattled as Tommy merged onto Highway 183, but it always did when accelerating. He swore it did. 

Whatever – enough. 

There was paperwork to do. Today’s timesheets were in the glovebox, only halfway complete. So, he pulled out the folder and set to work. At least it offered a distraction from the brakes screeching like a horde of bats during rush hour traffic. 

“Did you ever hear from the concrete guys?” Tommy turned down an obnoxiously loud ad for a car dealership in town. 

Grunting, he curtly nodded. His pen found Harry’s Concrete at the bottom of the sheet and promptly scratched it out with scathing red ink. Just seeing their name triggered a sour taste in his mouth. 

He was used to the concrete guys being flaky, but not like this. These last couple months had been like dandruff in the winter. Brutal. Today, the bastards didn’t even have the balls to call until after lunch. No excuse, either. 

“Third day in a row,” Tommy just had to say, as if he needed a nudge. “In my opinion - I think it’s time to hire somebody else.” 

“Well, you know who to share that opinion with, and it ain’t me,” Joel chided – annoyed. It drove him crazy how often Tommy needed to be reminded of simple things, like what Joel’s role in the business entailed. For God sake – it’d been over a year now since he became a partner in the company. 

Joel could initially understand the confusion. After all, Danny had run the business as a one-man show and everyone, including Joel, thought his daughter would fully take over once he retired. Danny had always said that was the plan anyway, and even named the place: Teddy’s Company. 

Originally, Joel had thought Teddy was her real name until three years ago when he finally got the chance to meet her. But how was he supposed to know when Danny never called her by anything else? It wasn’t like Joel had known much about her back then either, and what little he did came from Danny’s vague and blue-moon updates. 

College is going well. 

Her new job’s treating her good. 

She moved into a new place, seems to like it. 

Short – brief. Some people probably thought Danny was being crusty but that wasn’t the case. No, Danny was never rude or mean, just quiet. A man of few words who on his more mute days could even make Joel look chatty. 

Before meeting her, Joel used to wonder what she’d be like. His future boss. There was a mystery around her that made her seem almost mythical, an enigma. She was like Willy Wonka with her name plastered all over the place: on his shirts, the side of the truck, front and center of the shop. But Joel had no idea who she was. 

Even with a gun to his head, he couldn’t have picked her out of a crowd. Or even a line-up. The only picture he’d seen of her was in a popsicle frame on Danny’s otherwise bare desk: The two of them at a petting zoo where she couldn’t be older than six. 

Without much to go by, Joel had simply assumed that she would look and act, at least somewhat similar to her dad. He’d built Teddy up in his mind as a strong, burly woman who was gruff around the edges. Someone with a sailor’s mouth and stubby fingernails embedded with dirt and grit and grout.

Instead, they were fake and baby pink. She looked like she had never changed a tire in her whole life. 

She probably hadn’t, but she was without a doubt smarter than Tommy and him combined. A graduate from some fancy university in California with an equally fancy business degree. Charming with a nice, smooth voice perfect for sales. If she went to a random street corner to sell bags of cow manure she could sucker anyone, even him, into waiting in line to buy one. 

She was down-right impressive. Finances, pitches, and permits, she could do it all. However, the other side of the business – the manual labor, a little more dirty. 

Joel had not a doubt in his mind that she had the ability to learn it, but did she want to? 

Hell no. 

For one, she had this irrational fear over being electrocuted. Back before Danny retired and she first started working at the front desk, Joel had walked in on her changing out a lightbulb, and you would’ve thought a snake had popped out of the ceiling. He’d mistaken it for a fear of heights until a few months back when Sarah refused to let him shower during a rainstorm. Sarah had looked hysterical using her lanky-arms to body-block the stairs, warning him that he’d get fried if he went up there. 

“Don’t you know dad, lightning can travel through plumbing? Teddy was telling me all about it today.” 

Joel didn’t have a clue where that particular fear stemmed from, but her vendetta against attics, now that he could understand. After all, she’d probably still be in California if not for her dad’s accident. 

It was never Danny’s plan to retire so early. Despite the appointments and constant physical therapy, it’d still caught Joel by surprise, though not as much as Teddy’s offer to run the business alongside her. Together. 50/50. Sure, it came with this boring paperwork, but a bigger paycheck as well. Only a fool would’ve turned that down. 

Besides, promotion or not – he would’ve stayed and worked for her, regardless. 

—

Back at the shop, Joel would usually help Tommy unload the truck, but not today. 

Instead, Joel tucked the file under his arm, hung his tool belt on the rack, then made his way through the garage. He entered through the back door, letting it slam behind him. The cool air greeted him, tingling his tacky skin and he shivered. 

The vents rumbled inside the white hallway walls, echoing around the shop. Along with two voices coming from the lobby. When he heard Teddy’s laugh, he ran a quick hand through his hair, fixing the damp strands away from his forehead. 

He rounded the corner and Teddy was at her desk. Everything from her neck down was cut-off by the high-glass counter, making her look like a floating head. A very nice-looking floating head or a nice head to look at or -

Whatever. 

She was smiling at him – that same honey-golden smile that welcomed him every morning. The same smile he wished was here to welcome him every evening, as well. But with how late he worked most days, it was a hit or miss. He could never guarantee she would still be here, except on the days with Sarah. 

“You’re late,” Sarah said before he could even say hi. 

Joel glanced at the clock above the front door. 5:45. 15 minutes. 

“Barely.” Anything less than thirty was a win in his book. It didn’t matter that Teddy chose to stick around and keep Sarah company, he wouldn’t push it. She was his business partner – not a babysitter. 

“Still late.” Sarah stepped away from Teddy’s desk with her arms crossed menacingly over her chest. If not for the twitch of her lips, she would’ve appeared deadly serious. The girl never could keep a straight face though for more than a second. 

“Let me guess, you’ll forgive me if we can get McDonald’s on the way home?” 

Bingo. Sarah tapped on the tip of her nose and Joel huffed a laugh. 

“Well, Uncle Tommy drove, but we can ask-” 

“We?” Sarah looked at him like he was crazy before shaking her head. “I think I’ll handle this one on my own.” 

“What’re you trying to say?” He asked and her lips curved into a half-cocky, half-play smirk that screamed teenage girl. A stage of life he felt rather unprepared for, even more so than diapers and potty training and 6th grade math. The teenage years were bound to be harder than statistics and exponents and long division. 

“Come on, dad. When has Uncle Tommy ever said no to this?” She showed off her best puppy dog eyes and alright – yeah, poor Tommy didn’t stand a chance. 

But Joel didn’t tell her that. He couldn’t. He was too stunned that the little girl who used to hide behind his legs at the grocery store was the same one who was strutting down the hallway now without even glancing back. 

He shook his head in disbelief and looked over at Teddy. “I don’t know where all this confidence of hers has come from recently,” he said, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the now-shut door. “But I’m guessing it has something to do with you.” 

“Me?” She fluttered her lashes like she was clueless – definitely something she wasn’t. 

“That’s right,” he replied as he approached her desk. Her area always smelled clean and homey like fresh laundry in a field of wildflowers. The last thing he wanted to do was invade her perfumed bubble with the stench of his sweat and that specific twang that came from being outside all day. So, when he caught a strong whiff of her perfume, he stopped and propped his hip against the desk before saying, “I think you’re rubbing off on her.” 

“And is that such a bad thing?” She squinted at him and unlike Sarah, she could actually keep a straight face. 

“No.” He firmly shook his head. “In fact, I meant that as a compliment.” 

In an instant, her flat-line lips split into a wide grin. He smiled in return, stupidly pleased with himself for making her light up like that. His gaze momentarily dropped from her lips to the single button left undone on her shirt. The charcoal gray fabric shined in a way that reminded him of moonlight over Travis Lake. It looked soft and smooth as butter. And not to mention expensive. Joel bet if he touched it, even so carefully, the material would immediately snag under his callouses. 

Teddy motioned for the file and when he handed it over, he felt a draft under his armpit from the hole in his shirt. He glanced down at his jeans, covered in dirt and mud and sawdust. Filthy. He felt a twinge of self-consciousness. It was hard not to feel like a mess next to her sometimes when she was always dressed so goddamn professional with her pressed slacks and tucked in shirts. Anyone who saw her would think she worked for some big corpo with a koi pond in the lobby. Not a Morton building with more garage than office space. 

“They didn’t show?” 

Teddy’s voice jolted his attention back to her face. Her lips were pinched, her cherry red fingernail was bleeding into his own pissed-off pen marks. He mentally cursed himself for being too wrapped up in his own stupid head to warn her about the concrete guys. Good going, idiot. 

There was nothing he could do about it now, except frown and shake his head. “They called and said-” 

“Let me guess, they’ll be there first thing tomorrow?” She bitterly scoffed, clipping the folder shut. The manila spine crunched under her grip before she abruptly turned away from him to face the wall of cabinets behind her. She never said it out loud that it bothered her, but clearly it did and rightfully so. 

Working here this long Joel had witnessed these same people treat her dad with respect only to now try and walk all over her. He found it complete and utter bullshit, but was it a surprise? Sadly, not really. Enough years around construction sites and his tinnitus resembled cat-calls more than a compressor. 

Still, he fucking hated it. His left eye flinched watching her file away the folder in silence. The protective lobe in his brain flared as his fingers curled and burned into a fist at his side. God – he wanted to go to Harry’s Concrete and give that bald loser a piece of his mind and maybe a black eye, but he didn’t. 

He wouldn’t. 

No – instead, he continued to bite his tongue until his mouth flooded with the taste of pennies. He’d become used to the tang of copper in his mouth after the roofers, the plumbers, even the electricians that tried her in the past. The only reason he held himself back was because of her. Because she asked him to let her deal with it, and she was perfectly capable of handling things herself. Better than him at it, in fact. 

Teddy slammed the drawer shut, rattling the entire cabinet. “I’m not gonna fire them.” 

“Okay,” he said without having to think twice. He didn’t expect her to fire them, honestly.  She’d explained to him before that she’d never burn bridges prematurely. The grass was not always greener on the other side, especially not in Texas. Especially not in this line of work. 

“Or - I should say I’m not going to fire them yet, anyway.” Her voice was steady – determined. “But one more and it’s over. I’m gonna let Harry know that he’s on his last strike when I call him tomorrow.” 

“Give ‘em hell,” he encouraged her. Whatever she said in those calls had, so far, been enough to whip everyone who crossed her into shape. Just once, he wished he could be a fly on the wall to witness her in action. She didn’t look particularly tough, but he imagined her being like an asp caterpillar, fuzzy and harmless until poked.

She didn’t linger on the topic, and instead asked about his day. He did the same. Neither had much to report outside the usual. 

“So, how was Sarah today? Did she talk your ear off about the homecoming dance coming up?” 

She giggled, gathering up the papers on her desk and stacking them into a neat pile in the corner. “How did you know?” 

“Cause she found out Monday, and hasn’t talked about anything else since.” 

“Oh and it’s only just begun,” she said with a smirk. “Welcome to your life for the next few weeks, Joel.” 

Joel scratched at the spot where his temple was already beginning to throb. Why did they have to announce it so early? It was great seeing Sarah so excited, but she kept asking him about his own first homecoming. He hated lying to her, but he couldn’t very well tell her the only thing he remembered was Rachel Borthwick and how she let him feel her up – the first boobs he ever touched – underneath the gymnasium bleachers. The thought of Sarah being that same age made him want to throw up. 

He swallowed the thought before it came out all over her desk. “Were you the same way at her age?” 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure if you asked my dad, he’d tell you I was worse.” She snorted, almost seeming embarrassed by her younger self. “For some odd reason, I had it built up in my mind that it’d be like that prom scene from Grease. Minus the broadcast and all that-” 

“Wait, your dance wasn’t on the news?” He tried to keep a straight face, but he was just as bad as his daughter. 

“Shut up.” She playfully shoved his arm and he rubbed it like it hurt. She rolled her eyes, but continued anyway. “My dad didn’t have the heart to tell me, so it was a pretty huge letdown when they didn’t even play Born to Hand Jive. I think I even requested it.” 

“How did you survive?” 

“It’s a miracle,” she said, and he huffed out a laugh. Three years later, and she still surprised him with every new story she chose to reveal. 

There was a split-second where the only sound in the room came from the buzzy-white fluorescent lights above him. Teddy stole a quick glance towards the hallway, as if checking if Sarah was back. She had still not reappeared and he wondered if Tommy had baited her into helping him unload the truck or maybe just sticking around to talk. 

Teddy clicked her fingernails on the counter in front of him. “Real quick, I wanted to ask,” she said before clearing her throat. “Have you and Sarah talked at all about dress shopping?” 

Joel shifted back a step, his boots scratching against the cheap, gray carpet. “Dress shopping?” He forced the words from his throat, then shook his head. He looked away, feeling a pit in his stomach that reminded him of Muffins for Mother’s Day in elementary school – Mommy & Me at the daycare. 

Again – dress shopping was another one of those things girls usually did with their mom’s, but Lisa wasn’t meant to be a mom. She’d even said so herself in the note she left next to her engagement ring on the day she vanished with their dog. Joel wished his own mom was still around to help fill in when the gaps felt too big for him, but sadly, she had passed away before Sarah turned 4. Since then, it’d only been just Tommy and him. 

“The only reason I ask is because,” Teddy started, clutching at the dainty gold chain around her neck, “Well, she sorta asked me to take her.” 

“Oh.” Joel didn’t know what else to say. Not that it offended him or anything petty like that. God no – he wasn’t delusional enough to think that he would be Sarah’s first choice when it came to fashion. After all, his idea of dressing up was a flannel and whatever jeans were clean. Teddy made a lot more sense than him. 

“I didn’t give her an answer, just so you know. I wanted to check with you first.” Her voice was rushed, slightly pitchy, and he realized this was the first time he’d ever seen her even remotely nervous. She must be just as cautious as him about crossing whatever line was supposed to exist in this…relationship? Dynamic? 

Joel smiled at her, softly, hoping to ease her anxiety. “Well, thank you,” he said and she appeared to relax at his calm tone. “I have no problems with you taking her, as long as you wanna do it.” 

“Of course, I want to, but are you - are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us if you want. We could all go together?” 

The offer was tempting, but he declined. He knew Sarah would enjoy it being just the two of them. It could be girl time or whatever. 

Teddy pulled out her planner to check on what dates would work best when Sarah came back in. Once she heard the good news, the victorious grin on her face somehow grew even bigger. The last time he saw her that excited was when he surprised her with tickets to Six Flags for her 11th birthday. 

Teddy and her started to discuss which stores to hit and what mall would be best, basically a foreign language to him. He should’ve started on closing duties, but instead he found his gaze drawn to Teddy. How she appeared equally as thrilled as Sarah. He always could tell when she was excited by the way she talked with her hands. That smile was downright infectious and – 

He noticed Sarah watching him. Her quizzical eyes were glued to his face. Shit. He was staring. Quick. Joel forced a smile at Sarah that hopefully said nothing-to-see-here. He didn’t stick around to wait for her reaction and instead, fled into his office. 

For a few minutes, he pretended to check over files and went down the list of closing duties, completely avoiding them until the only thing left was setting the alarm. Finally, he dared to look in their direction again. When he saw Sarah’s focus was entirely on Teddy, the tension drained from his shoulders. 

He thought he was in the clear. 

—-

“Dad, do you think Teddy’s pretty?” 

Joel’s head whipped up and a sharp, pointy fry was lodged into the back of his throat. It burned and stabbed its way down to his esophagus. For a second, he thought he was going to choke and die at his own dining room table from a McDonald’s fry. 

“What?” His voice crackled like sandpaper from holding in a cough. 

“She asked if you thought Teddy was pretty?” Tommy repeated, loud and clear with a smug grin that he didn’t even try to hide behind his Big Mac. 

Joel’s gaze flickered from one set of brown eyes to the next. He was cornered, his back against the bay window. No way out and no one to blame but himself for this mess. He was, after all, the dummy who got caught. 

Joel held up a waiting finger, then slowly sipped on his coke to calm his burning throat. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he wrapped his head around what to say. Lying was out of the question. It seemed more damning than the truth. 

The thing was – there was nothing wrong with finding her attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t like she was asking if he liked her. Not that he did like her. Well, maybe just a little. Just a teeny, tiny crush but it was nothing really. Stupid, honestly. For the most part, he could ignore it. 

Joel cleared his throat and gave a casual shrug. “Uh yeah, she’s uh - she’s pretty.” 

Despite his best attempt at cool, Sarah’s lips still flickered. Only the corners, as she continued to bathe her fries in a pool of ketchup. 

“Have you ever thought about - maybe asking her out?” 

A deep laugh barked in his ears and bounced around the tile floor like spiky ping pong balls. “Come on, Teddy’s way out of his league.” Tommy’s hand collided against his shoulder with a hard thwack. It slightly stung. 

But Joel didn’t take it too seriously. Tommy hassling him over Teddy was nothing new. Ever since she started working the front desk, it’d been Tommy’s favorite gag. In a weird way, Joel considered it a good thing that he saw it as one big joke. If Tommy had any idea about his silly crush, he would’ve kept his mouth shut instead of teasing him. Tommy might’ve been a lot of things, but he wasn’t cruel. 

Sarah didn’t seem to care whether it was a joke or not and scolded her uncle from across the table. She gave him a hard glare before turning back to Joel. She blinked expectantly, not letting him out of this. 

Joel sighed. “Sorry, kiddo, but I don’t think so.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because.” He licked his teeth and sucked a stuck piece of meat from between his molars. There was a laundry list of reasons, but he went with the least complicated. “We work together.”

“So? Two teachers at my school are dating, and it’s no big deal. They didn’t even get in trouble.” 

“Wait,” Tommy piped in with a mouthful of bun and sauce. “Isn’t she dating someone?” 

Joel swallowed down the salty taste in his mouth, bitter like vinegar. He nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 

“You think so?” Sarah looked at him with clear suspicion. “So, she didn’t tell you that.” 

“Well…no. But-” 

“Then, how do you know?” 

Joel crinkled the empty wrapper into a tight ball, then tossed it into the paper bag. “Somebody sent her flowers at work. Nice ones too.” Too grand to fit in her car, so instead they lived and died in the tiny break room directly across from his office. 

“When?” 

Three months. “I don’t know, not that long ago.” 

“Well, how do you know they weren’t from her dad?” Sarah asked, not backing down. “Or maybe her friends sent them?” 

Joel shook his head, recalling the stupid plastic holder that had poked out at him like a giant weed among the long stem roses. “The card said Happy Anniversary.” 

At that, Sarah sank into the chair like a deflated balloon. She shoved a whole chicken nugget into her mouth – no sauce. Each dry crunch-crunch grated against the silence. 

This recent interest in his love life was new. He wondered if it had something to do with her age or maybe all those rom-coms she watched. She’d never cared about him dating or – she did try to set him up once, a few months ago, with her best friend’s recently divorced mom, but when he shot it down she had quickly moved on. 

But she didn’t even finish her chicken nuggets. He noticed a faraway look in her eyes – his eyes, one of the only things she inherited from him. She was somewhere deep in her head, in that big brain of hers that definitely didn’t come from him. 

She did eventually perk up when Tommy brought up the new season of the Bachelor, but still wasn’t her usual self. So after Tommy left, Joel settled in beside her on the couch to watch Friends. This show was like her pacifier. Sick or just a bad day, one of Joey’s jokes could cheer her up instantly. 

Not today, though. A whole episode later, and she’d barely said a word. Barely laughed, which had him really concerned. He got the sense that whatever was bothering her was something bigger than just Teddy. 

“You’re quiet tonight.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and snugged her closer. She collapsed into him like a domino. Full cheeks squished against his shirt. She didn’t respond, and he didn’t press. Only can-laughter existed in the space between them. 

Laying like this reminded him of when she was a baby. So tiny, a full head of hair even then. She would fall asleep on his bare chest while waiting for Lisa to return home from work. Looking back, the signs had always been there that one day she would run. She’d practically lived at her job after her maternity leave was done. Hell, she didn’t even take the full 6 weeks. Post-partum, the doctor called it, it’ll get better in time. But it didn’t. There was no medication cocktail that could make her want this life – that could make her want to stay. 

“Can I ask you something?” Sarah’s eyes didn’t leave Phoebe and Monica. 

“Anything,” he murmured against her hair before placing a light kiss to the top of her head. She no longer smelled of Johnson & Johnson or desitin, but coconuts and lime. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Even with her feathery-soft tone, the words hit him like a sucker punch, square in the jaw. Where the hell did that come from? 

“Do I seem lonely?” The words left him like a reflex, automatic. It was the second time tonight she’d caught him off-guard. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, her shoulders sliding along his t-shirt. “Are you?” 

Slowly Sarah lifted her head – her big eyes bore into him and when he could trace every concerned line on her young face, the guilt smothered him like wet mineral wool. It was his job to worry, not hers. 

He urgently shook his head. “No. Of course not.” 

She silently stared at him, squinting as if somehow it would give her Professor X’s ability to read his mind. Clearly, he did not convince her and so he tried again. Harder. 

“Sarah, listen. I am perfectly fine, alright?” He brushed a curly strand of hair from her face, firmly holding her gaze. “If I was lonely, I’d go do something with Uncle Tommy. He’s always asking me to do things after work-” 

“Why don’t you?” 

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at her confusion. Of course, she wouldn’t understand. Teenagers always wanted to be out somewhere, doing something with their friends.

“Cause I’m old. And I’m tired. And honestly, I’d rather be home.” With you. The last part never slipped through the gap in his bottom teeth. He never wanted to make Sarah feel guilty for leaving him and living her life. 

“You’re such a hermit.” She nudged at his chest, a smile sweeping across her face. Exactly what he’d been missing. 

“I prefer homebody,” he corrected, making her burst into a giggling fit. He waited until she went quiet to say, “Either way - you ain’t gotta worry about me, alright?” 

Once again, her expression turned very serious. Her eyes darted once, twice, across his face. “Swear?” 

“On my life.”

—

Later that night, Joel laid awake in bed fighting to find a comfortable position. Even sprawling out in the middle didn’t work. The sheets were tangled around his legs, his feet – his thoughts equally twisted up from Sarah’s question earlier. 

Are you lonely? Was he? 

Joel had never considered himself to be lonely. Not really. Or not all the time, at least. For the most part, Sarah and work kept him busy enough that he never gave it much thought. 

If he did think about it though, he supposed crawling into bed alone every night could get a little depressing. He was still human, after all. Intimacy was a basic human need. It was just simple biology when he occasionally craved a soft touch or someone to talk with before drifting off to sleep. It’d been a long damn time since he experienced either of those things. 

Maybe Sarah was onto something. Maybe it was time for him to get back out there, but oh God. Just thinking about it made him light-headed. 

Where would he even start?

His last serious relationship was his only serious relationship. After Lisa left, there was hardly any time for that. Being a single dad, dating wasn’t his top priority. 

Sure, he’d managed to squeeze in a few first dates over the years, even less second ones, and he couldn’t for the life of him recall a third. If so, it’d been nothing worth remembering. 

Honestly, the only person he’d considered asking out recently was Teddy. It was just a dumb idea that crossed his mind sometime in late spring when too much tree pollen and dust mites must’ve gotten into his head. He’d luckily come to his senses and fast. A few short weeks later, those damn flowers showed up. 

If he was being honest, no one else really interested him. 

And how could they? 

It wasn’t even just about her looks, she was sweet and smart and surprisingly funny. Joking or not, Tommy was right – she was way out of his league and why was he thinking about this right now? Joel cleared his mind with a hard shake of his head. He needed to stop, get some sleep. He didn’t want to know what time it was already. Without looking at the clock, he flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow, then shut his eyes. 

Within seconds, Teddy slithered back into his mind with her perfect smile, the delicious scent of her soap, and those jeans she would undoubtedly wear tomorrow. Casual Friday might actually be the death of him. Denim on her hips was seriously a sin.  

Just thinking of her fully-clothed ass made his cock twitch inside his boxers. Somehow that was enough to get him half-hard, the tip snagging over the soft-cotton. 

Joel groaned in unison with the bed springs as he flopped onto his back. His palms itched to reach down and squeeze at his cock for a little relief. But he resisted, and forced his mind to somewhere far less pleasant. Broken wires. Wrong-size headers. Clogged drains. A memory of her gripping a PVC pipe invaded his brain and suddenly, it was her small hands wrapped around him instead. How would she look on her knees for him? Would she be able to fit him all in her two hands? If not, would she use her – 

“Fuck.” Joel gritted his teeth and fisted at the comforter. Get a grip. 

He felt like he was going crazy. Probably from the lack of action outside of his own fist. It was finally catching up with him. Tommy did warn him this would happen and fuck – he hated when Tommy was right. 

Joel thought back to the last time he had sex and cringed. Two years ago, but the memory was tattooed in his brain just like the monarch butterfly on the random woman’s lower back. It happened at a sleazy bar where everyone knew Tommy by name. He’d taken too many shots of Wild Turkey, then found himself fucking the woman in a one staller, quick and sloppy, right next to a clogged toilet. Not his proudest moment. He’d go to the grave blaming the whole thing on Tommy, who treated their rare nights out like the bachelor party he was still pissed off that he didn’t get to throw. 

The truth was though, even before Joel’s current involuntary celibacy, his sex life had been relatively non-existent. 

He hadn’t had sex on a semi-consistent basis since his 20’s. A casual hookup with a lady named Amy, who lived in the same apartment complex as him. No-strings attached. An arrangement born out of pure convenience rather than desire or intense lust. She lived in the apartment below him, and once a week came up after Sarah went to sleep and left before the condom hit the trash can. No surprise it ended once he moved out, and ever since then, it’d been random hookups and one-night stands whenever Tommy and him went out for a night. 

Joel sighed and stared up at the moon-stain ceiling of his bedroom, careful not to make any sudden movements in hopes to fight down his erection. While still and quiet might’ve worked to spook a black bear, his boner was sadly proving more resilient. 

With every passing minute, the warm tingly feeling in his belly spread like weeds through his body. His fingertips down to his toes. Fully hard, now. It became clear ignoring it was useless. He would just have to get this over with, so he could get some sleep tonight. 

Joel forcibly kicked off his blankets, then shoved down his boxers. His cock thwacked against his stomach and the tip was already shiny. He preferred to do this in the shower to avoid a mess, the steady stream of water helping to cover up his dry, cracked hands better than saliva. But something was better than nothing. He spit into his hand until his mouth was dry, then wrapped it around his cock. 

Whether in the shower or in his bed, it didn’t matter, Joel always jerked off like it was a chore. Hard and fast strokes where he could barely catch his breath. No need for soft and sensual, just a tight fist to take the edge off. This way, he found it easier to keep his less than friendly thoughts of Teddy at bay. 

He tried his best not to think about Teddy while doing this because friends don’t imagine their friends while fucking their fist. And that was all she was, all she would ever be – a friend. If he could he wouldn’t have thought of anyone at all, but he needed someone to imagine to get off. 

Instead of Teddy, he pictured a cover model from a 90’s Penthouse Magazine that he’d found in the guest room after Tommy moved out. A pretty brunette with big natural tits, who he didn’t have to work with tomorrow. 

His room steadily filled with the wet slap of his hand, the low thrum of the oscillating fan as he pretended the nameless woman was riding him. He was brutally fucking his fist when the woman shape-shifted into Teddy. So abruptly that he could barely register that it was her taking him down to the hilt. Her rolling her hips. Her fingernails scratching over his ribs, his shoulders, his chest with a little smirk even more sinful than her tight jeans. 

“Shit,” Joel hissed when he realized, but too late – his hips surged forward as he came. So sudden, so fast, it almost gave him whiplash. 

Joel was not usually loud during sex, more of a grunter than anything else, but it had never been so vivid. So real. He could practically feel the wet-heat of her cunt clenching around him. He had to snag his bottom lip between his teeth to keep every needy and desperate sound from bleeding out of his mouth as his cock pulsed and throbbed against his palm. He wouldn’t let himself find out what her name tasted like when he moaned. 

Clearly, this was not the first time she’d popped into his mind and he doubted it would be the last. He wouldn’t feel nearly as bad about it either, but there was a fuck-ton of cum on his stomach. Even a little on his chest. Fuck – he came so hard it made him lightheaded. 

He let the shame simmer down and once he caught his breath, he carefully dug out a travel-pack of Kleenex from his nightstand. He didn’t even wanna count how many tissues it took to wipe the syrupy-hot evidence from his skin. 

He’d be sticking to the shower from now until forever. 

—

The days had come and went and over a week later, Joel had not jacked off again. Not in the shower, and definitely not in his bed. But that had nothing to do with Teddy. Seriously. It was just a coincidence. 

Work had picked up. The heat wave had died out, giving way to more 80 degree days. Fall was fast approaching, by far their busiest season. There was a brand new neighborhood of bland cookie-cutter slab houses that had him working doubles everyday and judging by today, this week would be the exact same way. 

The streets were dark and mainly deserted by the time Joel dropped Tommy off at his apartment complex. Joel glanced at his phone – once again – for any missed calls before heading home. Still nothing. No new voicemails – 0 messages. 

The first and last time he heard from Sarah was after Teddy picked her up from school, right before heading into the mall. He’d told Sarah to call him once Teddy dropped her off, but she must’ve forgot. The same way she always forgot to lock the front door. He would be home in less than 5 minutes or else he would’ve called. But he would rather give her a talking-to in person. 

For a second, he wondered if she and Teddy were still at the mall, but it was late. Nearly 9. 

No one could spend 5 hours there. Hell, he could barely spend more than 2 without going stir-crazy. 

The last thing he expected when pulling onto his street was to see Teddy’s car parked in front of his house. The pearly white shell was perfectly lit up underneath a street light. 

What was she doing here?

He thought she would drop Sarah off and dip after their shopping trip, but obviously not. Dear God, he hoped she wasn’t waiting on him. Joel whipped into his driveway and hopped out without bothering to grab his tool box in the back. 

Inside, the living room was lit up with every lamp turned on, but otherwise empty. It was still tidy from the cleaning he did on Sunday, thankfully. He threw his keys on the console table, shutting the front door with his foot. He heard movement upstairs and headed that way. 

“Sarah,” he called out, mainly to give a heads-up and not scare them. “I’m home.” 

“Finally,” Sarah said as he stepped into her room. It smelled like that Body Works store at Barton Creek that Sarah loved, but always had him leaving with a headache. 

He stayed close to the fresh air and leaned against the door frame. Sarah was perched at her vanity, the counter in front of her completely buried under make-up, nail polish, and a bunch of other crap. 

“Teddy’s helping me decide what to wear with my dress.” Sarah swiveled around in her stool to face him. 

“Yeah, I see that.” Joel looked over at Teddy, who was standing behind Sarah with an earring pinched in each hand. The smile on her face was genuine. If she was in any real hurry to leave she didn’t show it. “When did y’all get back?” 

“I don’t know. 8:15? 8:20? Somewhere around there.” Sarah shared a shrug with Teddy. A little over thirty minutes, not bad. With the mess, he would’ve thought closer to an hour. 

“Dinner took a bit longer than I thought it would,” Teddy explained and his brows furrowed. 

“Busy night at the food court or something?” 

He noticed Sarah and Teddy share a secretive glance, and of course, they didn’t eat at the food court. He should’ve known better than to think Teddy would just take her to Sbarro. But out of every chain restaurant – did she have to pick the damn Cheesecake Factory?

Sarah was raving over the Mac & Cheese balls that definitely cost more than the 10 dollars he sent for baked ziti. Judging by the amount of shopping bags in the corner, Sarah had used her extra spending money on clothes instead of Chicken Costoletta. 

He waited until Sarah turned her back to nail Teddy with a knowing look. She swatted it away like a bothersome fly. She could be so damn stubborn sometimes. 

Later, he would deal with it. Money was not a topic he liked to discuss in front of Sarah. Besides, there were more important things at the moment. 

“So, are you gonna show me this dress of yours?” 

Sarah eagerly nodded and bounced over to her bed, picking up the black garment bag. It didn’t even allow him a peek at the color, not even when she hugged it tightly to her chest. 

“Well, come on - don’t leave me hanging. I’ve been waiting all night.” 

“Dad, you gotta see it on me or else you won’t get the full-effect,” she sassed, a duh implied in her tone. “Go downstairs, you and Teddy can wait-”

“Now, hold on there Sarah. It’s - it’s getting pretty late,” he pointed out, and Sarah’s fraying smile told him that she knew what he was trying to say. He hated disappointing her, but this was the right thing to do. “So Teddy, if you need to go home, don’t feel like you gotta stay.” 

Selfishly, Joel wanted her to stay, but why would she? She had already seen the dress, already given up her entire evening for Sarah. This was a free out, and he expected her to take it. 

Instead, She crossed her arms over her chest like a defiant child. “No way you’re getting rid of me that easily, Joel,” she said. “I’m sticking around to see your reaction.” 

Without giving him a chance to respond, she slid past him, her chest brushing against his arm. She motioned him to follow and he did without question. 

She led the way downstairs as if she’d been here before. But the few times she’d come by before to drop off paperwork she never made it past the front porch. 

His pulse slightly hiked up seeing her in his living room for the first time. Her gaze scanning the camel-colored walls, the pictures of Sarah throughout the years, his guitar that he rarely found time to play. Above the DVD and CD rack was the only real piece of art in the room – if that’s what people would call the painting of waves he’d found at a garage sale, the same one where he got the mismatched pillows on the couch. 

Interior design wasn’t his strong suit, but he was still proud of his home. Proud of himself for buying it on his own, for being able to prove this kind of place for his kid. All of this, from the rug to every decoration and lamp. It was best attempts to make this space feel homey – lived in for Sarah’s sake. She would not be the only kid in class growing up in a bachelor pad. 

“So, this is Joel Miller’s house?” Teddy spun around to face him and he found that she looked really good next to his coffee table. “It’s nice. I like it.” 

“Yeah?” Joel rubbed the back of his neck, toeing the tile-carpet line that separated the kitchen from the living room. 

“Especially the Cowboys decor.” She pointed her thumb at the framed blue star logo that was hung up by the stairs. “Did you know I used to wanna be a cheerleader for them?”

Joel’s mouth went drier than when eating pretzels. He rapidly shook his head, mainly to erase the mental image of her in that skimpy little outfit. It would probably haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life. 

He cleared his throat and took a seat on the couch. “I’m surprised Sarah didn’t give you a tour.” 

“Oh, she did.” Teddy plopped down on the couch with him, keeping a friendly distance of a cushion. “But don’t worry, the grand tour didn’t include your bedroom. She said that was off limits.” She puckered her bottom lip, pouting as if actually disappointed. 

“Trust me, you’re not missing much.” 

“But isn’t that where the magic happens?” 

Joel accidentally let out a snort. Magic. Nothing close to magic had ever happened in that room, unless what he did last week counted. “I think you’ve been watching too much Cribs.” 

Her lips parted, her eyes lit up with a wild look of amusement. “Does Joel Miller secretly watch MTV?” 

“Only against my will.” He jerked his chin towards the stairs. “She loves all that shit.” 

“Yeah. She did talk a lot about True Life while at din…ner.” Teddy clipped her lips together, catching her slip. 

“Trust me, I didn’t forget.” His tone carried a smug edge, making her huff in annoyance.  “So, how ‘bout you tell me how much I owe you for it?” 

“You don’t owe me anything.” 

“Teddy,” he warned. Still, she insistently shook her head, refusing to make things easy for him. 

“Sorry, but I can’t let you pay me back,” she said. “It wouldn’t be right.” 

“Really? How come?” 

She straightened her posture, the brown leather groaning underneath her. “Well, for one - it was my decision to take her there, wasn’t it?” 

“So?” 

“So, it doesn’t make sense for you to have to pay for something I decided, now does it?” 

Joel licked his teeth at her loop-hole logic. She was eyeing him with a very serious expression, as if this wasn’t over 30? 35 bucks? Hell, there was probably enough in his wallet right now to cover it. 

If this were anyone else, Joel would’ve already said fuck this and drained his wallet of every nickel and dime, just to be safe. He wouldn’t accept no for an answer because he didn’t need anyone’s help or handout. He made enough money to support not only himself, but his daughter perfectly fine. Thank you. 

But this wasn’t just anyone – this was Teddy. Whether it was because she did his payroll or because she was so bullheaded, he didn’t know, but she had a funny way of making him fold. 

“Secondly.” She lifted a second finger before he could raise the white flag. “It wouldn’t be right for you to pay me back for your own gift.” 

Huh? “Gift?” 

She hummed in response. “There might be a little early birthday present waiting for you in the fridge.” 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone, other than Sarah, got him a birthday present. Most of the time, not even Tommy did; his presence was the present or whatever bullshit he said. But she’d thought of him. Him. The idea made his chest begin to swell like metal on a blazing summer day. He ducked his head to hide the heat rising in his cheeks. 

“You didn’t need to get me any-” 

Teddy grasped his arm, instantly turning the rest of his sentence into sawdust. His gaze flickered from her hand on his forearm, to her eyes. She really was beautiful, especially in the warm pool of lamp light in his living room. 

“I wanted to,” she assured him with a voice as soft as her touch. Her thumb gently skimmed over his arm hair and he held back a shiver with the clench of his teeth. “It’s just Classic Vanilla Bean Cheesecake. A little boring, but Sarah said that’s your favorite.”

“It is.” His voice cracked like a pre-teen and embaressed, he averted his eyes. How ridiculous. He needed to get a grip. Pull himself together. He was acting like a fucking virgin. Joel swallowed and stiffly nodded. “Thank you.” 

She gave his arm a small squeeze before pulling away. The spot where she touched him still tingled, still burned. 

“It’s the least I could do, since I’ll be missing it.” 

Joel brushed her off with an easy wave of his hand. Other than work, he didn’t have any plans, so she really wasn’t missing anything. “I think you’ll have more fun in Phoenix, anyway.” 

“Just don’t let Tommy set the place on fire while I’m gone.” 

“Do you have that little faith in me?” he asked – teased. It was only a few days. Leaving Thursday, back in the office by the following. 

She lightly nudged his arm, just as a door opened. 

“Are you ready?” Sarah called out, and his focus shifted to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I was born ready, kiddo. So, come on, let’s see it.” Joel drummed his hands excitedly against his thighs. 

Waiting there reminded him of the fashion shows she used to put on for him. She’d wait at the top of the stairs until he popped in the Whitney Houston CD. For the big finale, they would dance around the living room to I Wanna Dance With Somebody. 

But Sarah didn’t appear in a bright-pink princess costume, but instead a pretty little purple dress. Her heels were real, not made out of cheap plastic or from the Dollar Tree. His little girl looked so grown up. The realization that she was grown up made the back of his eyes burn. 

Joel scrubbed a hand down his slack, scruffy jaw, watching Sarah twist from side-to-side. The shiny material swished around her knees. 

“Baby girl, you look - beautiful,” he said without trying to hide the crackle in his voice. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Sarah giggled, almost bashfully. “That’s exactly what Teddy said.” 

“Well, that’s because it’s the truth,” Teddy stated earnestly. Sarah’s entire face lit up and God –  she had such a killer smile. He would never get tired of seeing it.

When Sarah pulled back her hair to show Teddy two different pairs of earrings, she immediately went over to get a closer look. 

Discussing jewelry and lip gloss, Sarah’s shiny wide eyes clung to her every word as if it was wrapped in gold, as if it held some infinite wisdom. It suddenly hit him that he’d never seen Sarah look at anyone like that. Not her favorite teacher. Not her best friend’s mom. Not even Mrs. Adler who lived next door and used to babysit her after school. 

Poor Mrs. Adler, she meant well but Sarah and her could not have been more different. Thinking about it, Teddy was the first woman that Sarah shared anything in common with, who she didn’t have to share with the rest of the class or came second to a friend. 

For once, Sarah had some special bond for herself. 

His breath caught in his throat watching Teddy fuss with Sarah’s dress. Her eyes barely leaving Sarah’s bright face as she untwisted a strap and smoothed out a few spots in the back. For a second, he imagined her here with them every night – thought about how seamlessly she would fit into their lives. 

Holy shit - what the fuck is he doing? Stop it. 

Joel forced himself to look away, pruning those thoughts before they grew. The light, liquid warmth in his chest ran cold. It turned into mercury when it settled in his belly. 

Luckily, Sarah and Teddy were too preoccupied with finishing details to notice him obsessively picking at his fingernails. He didn’t know what got a hold of him.

This was insane. She was his friend, his business partner, and whatever she was to Sarah that was more important than a stupid crush. No – he would not complicate a good thing with his feelings. Feelings she didn’t reciprocate. For God sake, she was dating someone else. Get over it. 

Joel thought it might be a good thing that Teddy would be gone for a few days. More than ever, he needed some distance. Some time to help screw his head back on straight. 

—

Too early on Tuesday morning, Joel sleepily fought the coffee machine until dark liquid gurgled and spewed into the pot. 

“Have you heard from Teddy at all?” Tommy asked as Joel filled up a to-go cup. 

“Oh yeah, hear from her every night before going to sleep.” 

“Really?” 

Joel shoved the coffee pot back inside its home, and blinked at Tommy. “Of course not. She’s on vacation. Why would she call me?” 

He figured she’d brought whoever she was dating on the trip with her. They were probably going to her cousin’s wedding, meeting her college roommates new baby while he was here - in Texas. Alone. When he thought about it like that, it put everything into some much needed perspective. 

Joel didn’t give Tommy a chance to respond before barging out and heading to the garage. He still was not used to seeing her empty desk instead of her warm smile, telling him to have a good day. 

“So, do you miss her, yet?” Tommy asked while loading up the truck. 

“She’s only been gone a few days,” Joel snorted, as if it was a ridiculous question to ask. “Why? Do you miss her?” 

“Miss her coffee, that’s for damn sure.” He grimaced at the cup before taking a tentative sip. “Shit sucks. You add too much water.” 

“I’d like to see you do any better.” Joel obnoxiously slurped on his drink, then winced. It did kinda taste like dirt. “She does make it better,” he conceded. “It’ll be nice to have her back.” 

The distance had been a good thing for him, though. It was much easier for him to think without her dizzying perfume. What happened in his living room had been just a moment of weakness, of panic. Blown completely out of proportion. 

The thing was – he’d always had a crush on her. It was nothing new, and he was perfectly happy with just this. With never being anything more than friends – her in his life, that was enough for him. 

It had to be. 

“Well, speaking of Thursday.” Tommy spoke in a tone that almost always meant he wanted something. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I gotta leave work early that day.” 

“Why? Got an appointment or something?” 

Tommy shook his head, then spewed a sob story that lasted nearly the entire drive to the site. His buddy Aaron had just broken up with his cheating girlfriend, and needed help moving out of their apartment. Too bad it wasn’t a different one of Tommy's military buddies or Joel would’ve immediately said no, but Aaron actually wasn’t a douchebag. 

“Well, what time would you leave? Cause we gotta finish that block by Friday-”

“She works the night shift, so not until like 3 or 4,” he said, swaying him further. “And Aaron said he’ll pick me up from the site, so you ain’t gotta do anything.” 

Joel shrugged, whatever. Fine. They would just have to work late tonight and tomorrow. 

—-

So far, Thursday had not gone at all like Joel had anticipated. His reunion with Teddy this morning was disappointingly quick. It wasn’t like he expected her to run into his arms and hug him or anything dramatic like that, but he did think it would be more than just a few minutes of small talk where Tommy dominated most of the conversation with his plans for later. 

Which turned out to be total bullshit by the way. 3 to 4 ended up being more like 1:30, ruining his chance to see Teddy this evening. The inspectors would be here tomorrow morning, so the frame had to be finished tonight with or without an extra set of hands. 

Now, at 6:30, Joel was just leaving the site. He picked up Wendy’s to make up for his crummy day, only for the burger to be loaded with pickles and onions when he specifically asked for ketchup only. He still scarfed it down, along with a medium dry on the drive back to shop where the only thing that would be waiting for him was an empty office and a fat-ass stack of paperwork. Some supply sheets that could hopefully be knocked out before Sarah needed to be picked up later. 

He pulled in through the back entrance and was taking his sweet time unloading the truck. Lowly humming Wedding Bells by the great Hank Williams when the door opened with a screech. The sound echoed around the steel walls of the garage and he jerked, nearly dropping a nail gun on his foot. Somehow, he managed to catch it just before it slid off the rack. 

He turned around and - “Teddy?” 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” she said in a sweet drawl that made his pulse race for an entirely different reason. 

He stared at her dumbly, blinking rapidly to make sure this was not just his imagination. She was still here. He wet his throat with a hard swallow. “You surprised me.” 

“I can tell.” She giggled and embarrassment swarmed his neck like fire ants. He couldn’t believe she just witnessed him flail around like an idiot. He promptly went back to gathering up the last of the wooden boards and stacking them in the corner. “Did you not see my car out front?” 

“I came in off 77th,” he explained, brushing the dust from his hands onto his jeans. 

“I could’ve helped.” She leaned against the door, opening it wider as he walked over. 

“Nah, I got it,” he said with a casual shake of his head. “Wouldn’t want you to ruin that shirt, anyway.” His eyes dipped over the satiny material, this time a deep maroon.

“It is a great shirt.” She playfully bumped into his side with her shoulder when he stepped inside. The delicious scent of her soap sent an electric jolt up his spine. He matched her steps down the hallway. “What’re you still doing here anyway?” 

“Well, there’s the Fox Ridge pitch tomorrow and there’s two more next week. And I have been gone for like a week.” She tucked herself back behind her desk. “Remember?” 

Oh yeah, he remembered. 

For a few minutes, they caught up on work and talked about homecoming, which was Saturday, and Sarah, who was currently at her friend’s house making posters or whatever for the big game tomorrow. He asked if she enjoyed her trip, which she obviously did from the glow around her. He almost asked about the wedding until he noticed all the files on her desk, the neat stacks of paper labeled with post-it notes that clearly showed she was busy. 

He decided not to be selfish and take up anymore of her time and instead went into his office. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” she told him before he closed the door. He left it slightly cracked in a way that seemed inviting before taking a seat at his desk. He would’ve just left it wide open if he thought it would be possible to focus. But even the back of her head could be enough to distract him. 

Just like the rest of the shop, his office had been recorated by Teddy when Danny retired. He’d actually offered her the office, multiple times, but she refused. She preferred the natural light in the front, and he couldn’t blame her when the one window in here was puny and overlooked the trash cans. 

Without her, Joel would’ve left the walls as blank and as white as Danny, the bookshelves just as bare and dusty, and there wouldn’t be a single lamp, let alone two. But he definitely appreciated the lamps this late in the day when the overhead light would burn too loud and bright. 

Supposedly, she’d gotten them for free from a friend that was moving. He’d believed the story, at first, until one day she showed up with a giant picture of Yellowstone River, two more of different landscapes. A Golden forest. A mountain range. She’d just stumbled upon them at a Goodwill for the same price as a pizza. And then she’d filled the bookcases that framed his desk with architectural books that would likely never be read and tiny fake plants, which he couldn’t kill. Those she’d claimed were found at a garage sale for the magical price of a gift card to her favorite nearby lunch spot. 

She would’ve decorated the office for her dad if he would’ve let her. Danny didn’t care though if she found the space so depressing when it came down to money. But Joel could not find it in him to tell her no when she looked so damn pleased with herself afterwards. She’d done such a nice job that he wished he could use the office more. One day he probably would when Sarah moved out. He had a love-hate relationship with being home alone. The quiet could be peaceful, then other times forlorn. 

After finishing up two supply lists for upcoming projects, Joel went to start on a third when his door jarred open with a soft knock. Teddy was hovering around the threshold with a file in one hand. 

“Are you busy?” 

Joel shook his head, shoving the folder aside then signaling her to come in. She stepped inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. It didn’t latch. No one else was here, otherwise he would’ve pointed it out. But he didn’t know why she shut it in the first place, honestly. 

“Sorry to bother you-” 

“You’re not bothering me,” he interrupted. “What can I do for you?” 

“It’s the Fox Ridge pitch.” She sauntered over to his desk, hips swaying and squeezed into a pair of black jeans. Her shirt was gaping open in the front from the top two buttons being left undone and wasn’t it just one earlier? It was always one, right? 

He realized it would’ve been easy to catch a peek of her bra when she bent over to hand him the file, but like a good person – like a good friend – he looked away. His gaze remained firmly fused to her face until she sat down in the chair across from him. 

She wanted his thoughts on the pitch, and he agreed to take a look. Based on the first page it looked perfect, and even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t be much help. After all, she was the brains of the operation where he was just the muscle. 

“So, how was the wedding?” Joel flipped onto the next page without looking up. “Your cousin’s right?” 

“Good memory.” She hummed, sounding pleasantly surprised. Her nails clicked along the steel arm of the chair. “But yeah, the wedding was… it was nice.” 

“Was it?” Joel glanced up at her with a suspiciously quirked brow. “Cause, you ain’t gotta lie to me. I won’t tell.” 

She clicked her tongue as if her reluctant tone wasn’t what led him to such a conclusion.

“I’m not lying, it was really nice. A lot of family that I haven’t seen in a while was there. And my cousin has amazing taste, so the wedding was gorgeous. It was small and intimate, but.” She let out a big breath. “It’s just everyone except my dad and I had dates.” 

“Did you not bring your-” Too late, the words had poured out before he could think twice and he cursed his stupid, overly curious mind. He had no idea what to say to cover up his lapse, so he just didn’t. It just hung in the air and he turned to the next page without reading the last. 

“Bring my what, Joel?” Her voice made it sound more like a challenge than a question. He peered up at her and she looked him directly in the eyes. It was as if she knew what he was going to say. It was as if she wanted him to ask. 

Joel screwed the blue pen into his grip. “I thought - I thought you had a boyfriend.” 

At that, she reclined back in the chair. She crossed her legs and tilted her head as if to study him. “What made you think I have a boyfriend?” she asked with such wild amusement that it confused him. 

Didn’t she? Tommy had seen the card, the flowers as well, so it wasn’t something he just made up in his head. She was or used to be dating someone. Oh – maybe it wasn’t a boyfriend, but a girlfriend. Not that he was about to ask. God no. He’d butted into her personal life enough for one night. 

“Well, you know.” Joel scratched the back of his head, then pointed in the direction of the break room. “There were those flowers, remember?” 

Her eyes widened – her lips parted. “Yeah, I remember. I just, I guess I didn’t think you would.” 

“Well, it ain’t everyday someone gets a garden delivered here.” He meant it as a joke, but it came off rather jealous. He tacked on a chuckle for good measure. She snorted, so it must’ve worked. 

“Okay fair. I was dating someone, but that’s over. Been over. We broke up like 4 months ago? So, not long after that, actually.” 

Joel grimaced. He could barely focus on her being single when he felt like shit. No one wanted to be reminded of their ex. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” She brushed off like it was no big deal. 

Still, he remained silent as the grave because what the hell was he supposed to say now? 

“I was the one who ended things, just in case that makes you feel better.” Of course she was. No one in their right mind would break up with someone as amazing as her. “But since we’re on the topic and all - what about you, Joel?” 

“What about me?” Joel finally met her eyes and her lips twisted into a mischievous smirk that made his stomach swoop. 

“Do you have anyone special in your life?”

Joel stiffly shook his head. “Can’t say I do.”  

“Anyone not special?” she nudged him, suggestively wiggling her brows. 

Again – a shake of his head. “I don’t really date.” 

“What a shame.” Her voice was almost husky, breathy. She leaned forward slightly. “I’m sure all the single mom’s at Sarah’s school are devastated.” 

Joel batted his hand in the air with an ugly snort. 

“What? I’m serious,” she said without twitching. Her eyes momentarily flickered towards his lips, and suddenly, his throat felt like the mostly burnt bagel he had for breakfast. “I bet you have all of them wrapped around your finger.” 

“You’re just - you’re just saying that.” 

“Am I?” Her voice was silky, even silkier than her shirt. There was a cool confidence radiating from her as her fingernails galloped in a slow rhythm along the arm rest. 

She was staring at him, pinning him against his seat. The hair on his thighs lifted and tickled the denim. The energy in the room had shifted, the air between them had bent and blurred into something that Joel could not quite describe. But he could feel it, sense it when it surged and rippled between them and sent an electric shiver up his spine. 

She licked her lips and rolled them together until they were shiny with her spit. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal trapped and he wanted to pounce over the desk and taste her spit. He nearly did until he felt a stirring in his jeans. 

What the hell was going on? What was he thinking? He needed to get his head screwed back on straight before he did something incredibly stupid. 

Joel shot from his chair like a firework. Abrupt and loud and white-hot. He turned away and towards the filing cabinets on the back wall. He didn’t have a plan, but there had to be something in there that he could pretend to need. 

She was quicker than his flustered brain and rose to her feet before he could make it past the edge of his desk. 

“Joel.”

It stopped him, his feet stuck to the floor like wet cement. She approached him like a frightened deer. Steady. So quiet. Her steps barely scratched against the cheap carpet. 

Joel realized now, right now was the time to speak. To say something. Anything. Find an excuse. Stop standing here like a dumb-struck baboon. But there was only one word that managed to leave his lips, a breath - 

“Teddy.” 

“It’s okay,” she whispered into the shrinking space between them. “I know.” 

I know? He had no clue what that was supposed to mean, but before he could ask – she cradled the back of his neck and pressed her lips against his. Joel’s eyes widened and all he could see was the soft planes of her face, her fluttering eyelids, the fan of her raven-stroke lashes. 

She was kissing him. Holy shit. She was actually kissing him. When he finally registered that, he closed his eyes and was overcome by the taste of her spit and a hint of Burt’s Bees chapstick, which he found oddly arousing. 

For a moment, he was too damn stunned to do anything but move his mouth along hers. Then, he realized his arms were hanging like spaghetti noodles at his side and reached out and clutched onto her waist. His thumbs delicately swirled the fabric of her shirt. So damn smooth, just as he expected. 

Joel gulped when she drew back, just far enough to meet his eyes. He had no idea what the fuck this was – let along if it was anything at all. Perhaps, this was it. Just a stolen kiss, late one night in his office. 

Joel braced himself for her to yank away, to tell him it was a mistake, that she didn’t know what she was thinking. Let’s forget the whole thing. 

But she didn’t. 

She just continued to toy with the curly ends of his hair, twirling them around her fingers as her other hand fisted the loose collar of his shirt. He was wedged between her warm-heaving body and his desk. The edge was slightly burrowing into his lower back, but currently he couldn’t care less. 

Her gaze dipped to where his jeans were painfully tented. A hot burst of shame ignited behind his earlobes. The flex of his fingers bit into the hollow below her ribs. 

“It’s - it’s been a while,” he found himself explaining because there was no good reason, at his age, to be this turned on from just kissing. 

“Do you want me to stop?” She slid up against him, sealing herself against his chest. It appeared she knew the answer before he could dumbly shake his head. 

This time – his lips met hers somewhere in the middle. Where the first kiss was gentle, testing the waters like the first sip of fresh coffee, this one was deeper. More intense – a whole gulp. Her urgent lips captured his starstruck mouth and right then he knew nothing, no one, would ever compare to this. Not even close. 

The way she kissed was like some special art form that only she could master. It felt so damn good to have her fingers molding through his hair with baby scratches over his scalp and the scent of her soap flooding his chest with heat. It consumed him, his body, his mind. The rapid pulse in his ears muted his every coherent thought.

When she gently nibbled on his bottom lip, he moaned – Teddy. She licked her name from his lips, then eagerly tasted it on his tongue as if she couldn’t get enough. 

And oh God – her tongue was equally as impressive as her other skills. The tip of it dragged over his top palate, making it tingle like a buzz off tequila. She stroked and swirled and twisted around his tongue as if knotting a cherry stem. No one had ever taken the time to explore him so thoroughly. Frankly, he didn’t know there was that much of his mouth to explore. 

Despite her exploration, Joel’s hands were burning into her waist, still holding her at 10 and 2 like a student driver. Like this was a chaperoned middle school dance. Slowly he roamed them down to grip her hips, but no further. He didn’t want to push it. He didn’t want to scare her. He didn’t want to spoil this moment from something stupid like getting too greedy. 

Joel was fully okay with her in the driver seat. Even though he was usually in charge, he was happily letting her lead. Well, actually, he didn’t know if he was really letting her or if she just was. He didn’t care either way when she was touching him. 

She broke the kiss and her lips swerved to his cheek. His jaw, paying extra attention to the patch in his beard where no hair could grow. His head tipped back when she buried her nose into the crook of his neck and deeply inhaled. After a hard-days work he likely smelled of sweat instead of his soap, but she groaned anyway. 

“Have you ever thought about this before?” She breathed against his neck. 

“I mean, I-” He choked on his words as her tongue slicked over the thick vein beneath his jaw. “I - I tried not to.” 

“But you did.” He could feel her lips split into a grin before she sucked on a spot below his ear. He hoped it would leave a mark. The idea of seeing it tomorrow in the mirror made his cock twitch and throb and it ached. 

“Uh-huh,” he whimpered, rather pathetically. It actually sounded like it fucking hurt. 

“You know what?” She playfully nipped at the spot that would soon sadly fade. She then met his gaze with a coy grin. I thought about you too.” 

“You did?” he croaked. 

She hummed in response, her fingers trailing down his chest. His stomach quivered, his breath catching before she stopped just above the band of his jeans and whispered, “But unlike you - I didn’t try to stop.” 

Joel growled, unable to form a coherent thought. His brain was too preoccupied trying to process how any of this was happening. It had to be a dream or an optical illusion or some shit. No way it could be real. But her small hand cupped his cock and that certainly felt real. 

“Fuck - you feel even bigger than I imagined.” She palmed at his bulge with a light pressure. His knees nearly buckled despite the thick, denim barrier. 

Now, he was really wishing he jerked off last night – or anytime in the past week or so. God – he was pent up. It wouldn’t take much for him to break. 

“Can I see it?” 

Joel’s mouth went half-slack and she blinked at him without flinching. 

“Yeah,” he managed to squeak out. Not great, but at least coherent. 

She sank to her knees, her eyes never leaving his. Pretty. Pretty. So damn pretty. Those two undone buttons exposed the tops of her breasts, the peek of a plain white bra that he found sexier than he should’ve. 

His restless hands found solid ground on the desk behind him. Just in time as she balled the hem of his shirt in her tiny fists and bunched it towards his waist. The office air blew cool over his newly bare skin. 

Joel wondered how he compared to the type of guy she usually dated. Did she like meatheads with six packs? Or guys with scrawny arms? Or did she like them somewhere in the middle; someone more like him? His body used to be more solid in his 20’s, but softened with age. He was still strong though, still firm in most spots aside from his stomach. 

He caught himself sucking in as her wild eyes wandered over his husk-tan skin and across the dark scatter of hair around his navel. Then, she devoured it, mapping every inch with her wet, hot mouth. 

It was a miracle that he managed to stay upright under her attention. Any attention was new. He was not used to any teasing or foreplay or whatever delicious torture this was called. 

No. 

Joel was used to his own calloused hands. Quick, rough fucks with women who called him Joe or Jack or something else entirely because why did it matter if it meant nothing. 

But did this mean anything? To him, yes. To her – he had no clue. Dear God – he hoped so, though. 

With a smirk she unzipped his jeans and shoved them down by his knees. The wet spot on his boxers was impossible to miss. Of course, he’d worn light gray today instead of something discreet like black. 

“It’s been awhile,” he sheepishly reminded her. He didn’t want her to think he was always this big of a mess. Because he wasn’t. Seriously, he really wasn’t. 

“It’s alright, just relax.” She leaned forward and mouthed at the stain. 

But it was impossible to relax when her nose nudged the underside of his cock, her mouth was so close to the tip that every muscle in his body tightened. He gritted his teeth, his nostrils flaring with the remnants of his dwindling self-control. 

She must’ve realized she was ruining him because she pulled back with a wicked grin. She hooked her fingers into the elastic waistband and tugged. His freed cock nearly smacked her in the face. The flush red tip was weeping. 

“Shit, you’re thick,” she gasped. Women had told him that before, but he much preferred hearing it from her. The sweet honesty in her voice, the clear surprise. It stroked his ego and filled him with a strange sense of pride as if he’d actually accomplished anything profound, and not just good genetics. 

She licked and spit into her palm before stroking his cock with a loose fist from root to tip. Her thumb swiped over the blunt head, smearing his pre-come and making his hips jerk and involuntary spasm. 

Joel opened his mouth to apologize, but was quickly silenced by her tongue: warm, wet, the slightly rough texture tracing over the thick vein that ran down his length. 

He gripped the desk until his knuckles bleached. She placed her free hand on his hip as if to help steady him before guiding him between her perfect, plush lips. Just the tip, at first. But it still was nearly enough to finish him. He didn’t remember the last time someone put their mouth on him. 

Joel desperately wished to witness this moment. He wanted to memorize the glossy gleam in her eyes, the way she looked in front of him and on her knees and how her mouth stretched perfectly around his cock. But it was too much. The weight between his thighs was becoming oppressive. If he watched, he’d shatter. And he’d be horrified if he finished that fast. 

So, he focused on the ceiling tiles instead. On the black specks that formed different shapes as she took another inch of him into her feverish mouth. 

Already, she had him panting like a dog. Unable to fully catch his breath even when she released his cock with a loud pop. She continued to pleasure him with long strokes of her fist. Her tongue dipped into his leaking slit, lighting up nerve endings that he didn’t know existed. It ripped an ungodly sound from his mouth. 

“Oh, you liked that?” she asked, very smug. Then repeated the movement once, twice, before eagerly swallowing his cock again. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hand flew to her shoulder and squeezed as she took him deeper – deeper. Holy shit. Where did she learn to do this? This was like pornstar level good. 

She had taken him halfway down her throat when he felt a shock run across his spine, a familiar tugging in his balls. His release was building and brewing in his lower belly like a thunderstorm. 

But Joel clenched his teeth. No – he could not come. Not yet. He needed to get himself under control before he finished in less than five minutes. 

He shut his eyes, but not even the rumble of his eardrums could drown out the loud, lewd squelch of her mouth. It was fucking filthy. The swirl of her expert tongue around his shaft had him unraveling fast like a loose spool of thread. 

“Teddy,” he moaned her name as he got close – too damn close. 

He tried to tell her to slow down, but the words stuck in his throat. Nothing came out except grunts. Just short groans. Her lips kissed the cusp of her fist, completely engulfing him in her honey-slobber and the softness of her hand. 

His hips instinctively bucked, the head of his cock bumping the back of her throat and she gagged. The walls of her inner mouth shuddered and pulsed around him and – 

“Shit.” His eyes flew open but before he could warn her – she hollowed her cheeks and sucked. 

He groaned her name, low and unrestrained, as the pleasure electrified his spine. It arced down his thighs before he could push her off. For a moment, he lost himself in the high, in the tide of her mouth. His cock twitched and throbbed on her tongue as he came. 

Hard. 

As if he hadn’t come in months – years. 

In a daze, he blinked down at her and saw his cum dripping down her chin, leaking from the corners of her mouth as she continued to twist her fist and suck down the aftershocks. It would’ve been easily the most erotic sight, if it didn’t suddenly hit him how fast he came. 

The light-headed euphoria quickly morphed into vertigo. He was horrified, mortified, staring down at her. 

He didn’t know what to say, and for once, it seemed like neither did she. She released his cock from her mouth, but otherwise didn’t move. Not even to wipe the come off her face. 

She swallowed, and opened her mouth. But a familiar ding tore through the thick, sticky air. The bell above the front door. 

“Joel? Teddy?” 

No way. It was motherfucking Tommy. 

—-

The idiot had forgotten his house keys in Joel’s truck. In the cupholder, nonetheless. 

Joel had somehow managed to button his jeans, and hand her a tissue before Tommy busted into his office. She’d pretend to blow her nose to clean the come off her face, riddling him with another level of shame. So embarrassed that he could barely look at her without feeling like he swallowed a handful of nails. 

He threw Tommy the car keys to get rid of him, but found out that Aaron had  left. Tommy had told him that Joel could just drive him home without even asking. And usually it wouldn’t be a big deal. 

But Tommy was so goddamn clueless. He just swung around the door frame, blabbering about how the girlfriend showed up and there was a big blow up in the parking lot and Joel was just waiting for him to notice the smell of sex and sweat or even the cloying embarrassment. Or Teddy’s swollen and suck-plump lips and surely Joel looked like a flushed-beet wreck. 

So how did Tommy seem to remain completely oblivious? 

When Sarah called a few minutes later, Joel left. Well, first he made sure everything was locked up and she was safely in her car, but otherwise fled like a coward. 

The shop had officially disappeared from his rear view mirror and now Joel couldn’t remember if he even told her goodbye. She just gave him the best blow job of his life, and he couldn’t even wave? 

“Are you gonna get Sarah or drop me off first?” Tommy asked and Joel snapped at him like a venus fly trap. 

“Doesn’t really make sense to go out of my way just to drop you off first, now does it?” 

Tommy threw up his hands. “Well, fuck. How am I supposed to know where Sarah’s friend lives?” He hurled himself against the passenger seat and mumbled under his breath, “Asshole.” 

Joel winced. He was kinda being an asshole, taking out his anger on Tommy. He wasn’t even mad at Tommy. Annoyed, yes, but not mad. The only person Joel was mad at here was himself. 

He was mad at himself for cumming too fast, and even more so for running away afterwards like a scared hound with his soft, spent cock tucked between his legs. Recalling the complete shit show, Joel’s grip coiled around the steering wheel until the leather squealed in protest. He could still feel the ring of her spit drying around him. 

Joel sighed and stared out the windshield at the night sky, the truck bouncing along the uneven back road full of potholes. Why did it feel like he just fucked everything up? 

“Hey, are you alright?” Tommy’s voice was lower, quiet – concerned. 

Joel scratched at his jaw, at the bald patch she’d kissed, before nodding his head. 

“Yeah, sorry - I’m just tired.” He’d rather die and be reincarnated into a gnat than tell Tommy about how he just prematurely ejaculated. He’d had enough embarrassment for one night. 

“Did I-” Tommy paused and for a moment it seemed like he decided to keep his mouth shut. Until he sighed. “I don’t know, but did I interrupt something between you and Teddy?” 

A little too late to start being observant, Tommy. 

Joel approached a red light, the truck crawling to a complete stop. 

“Come on. What would be going on between us that you could interrupt?” Joel looked over at Tommy and his brows were furrowed. In the pool of orange light from the street lamps that speckled the cab, Joel saw the realization flash across Tommy’s face. The moment everything clicked into place. 

Joel abruptly turned away, not in the mood for pity. After what felt like forever, the light finally turned green. 

“Joel, I didn’t realize that you-” 

“Don’t.” His voice was quiet, stern without being rude. “Just don’t.” 

For once, Tommy didn’t demand to have the last word. Instead, he slowly and silently fell back into the seat as if to fade into the shadows. She still had a boyfriend as far as Tommy knew, and Joel would not be informing him otherwise. This way was easier. 

The rest of the drive was filled with Willie Nelson’s album Always on My Mind, the rumble of the engine, and the buzzing of Joel’s thoughts. 

How was he supposed to face her tomorrow? 

—-

On Friday morning, Joel drove to the shop with a terrible pit in his stomach. His eyes felt gritty, and there was a dark shadow of gray underneath from a restless night sleep. He ate a bland piece of toast for breakfast, and even that made him feel sick. When he turned onto the street, he thought it might reappear all over the windshield. 

But Teddy was not there. Just a pink post-it note on the full, freshly brewed coffee pot. 

Fox Ridge pitch - Wish me luck. 

He’d forgotten that it was this early. Joel supposed he’d have to get here on time this evening to see her. 

Joel spent the day trying not to go insane. Despite the pounding of his hammer, memories of last night beat against his skull. Anytime he touched his lips, or the spot behind his ear, he could practically feel the ghost of her kisses. They had been desperate, heated. Hadn’t they? It had seemed she’d wanted him, just as much as he’d always wanted her. She’d even admitted to imagining him in some sexual way. 

But what about now? 

He didn’t have a clue. 

Eight hours later, and halfway from a complete tailspin, the truck decided not to start. The engine clicked and clicked and clicked, but never went. Even though he begged for it to start. The concrete guys had tried to jump it with no success. It’d taken everything in him not to sock Tommy in the jaw when he gave him that told-you-so look while calling a tow truck. 

The concrete guys were still on their best behavior and gave them a ride to the mechanic shop. It was run by one of Tommy’s highschool friends, Zach, who was nice enough to stick around past 5 on a Friday night. 

5:25 and this was a fucking nightmare. He couldn’t imagine a worse day for the truck to die. As if he hadn’t fucked up enough last night when he bolted, the last thing Joel wanted as her thinking that he was avoiding her. The least he could do was extend the same courtesy she had this morning. 

So midway through Tommy and Zach examining what was under the hood, he broke away to call her. 

Joel slapped his cellphone against the flat of his palm as he headed outside the entrance. With a deep breath he dialed the shop’s number. The ring-ring-ring in his ears made his chest feel like it was about to explode. 

“Teddy’s Company, how can I help you?”

“Hey Teddy.” He cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Joel,” he said, very awkwardly. 

“Hey! Hi. What’s up?” 

Joel kicked at the loose rocks by his feet. “Well, the truck - uh the truck’s acting up. We had to get a tow, and Tommy and I are - the mechanic’s checking it over right now.” 

“Oh shit.” 

“Yeah, so I just wanted you to know - I don’t know when we’ll get back to the shop.” Joel lightly hit the center of his head with the circle of his clenched fist. He sounded like an idiot. 

“No - yeah. That makes sense.” Silence crackled on the other line and it was unbearable. 

Joel scratched his temple, unsure what to say next. He wanted to talk about last night, just to get it over with, but it wasn’t the right time. That was not a conversation to have over the phone. Not like at work was much better, but still. 

“Well,” Teddy broke the silence. There was a rustling of something on the other line – papers? Her bag? “Do you need-” 

There was a massive boom behind him – Tommy pounded on the glass door and motioned him inside. 

“What was that?” she asked and Joel mouthed at Tommy to give him a second. 

“Sorry, it’s Tommy. I think the mechanic’s done with the inspection.”

“Okay - well, I was just gonna ask if you guys-” 

Tommy banged again – harder. It was Friday, so he probably had a date with his favorite dive bar. Joel glared at him and flipped him off. 

“It sounds like you need to go,” she said. 

“Sorry.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck and he was gonna kill Tommy. “But uh - have a nice weekend, alright?” 

“Yeah, yeah, you too, Joel.” 

Once Joel found out the battery just needed to be replaced, Tommy’s pissy mood made a lot more sense. It would be a decently fast and easy fix – at most an hour. 

Joel plopped down in a chair in the lobby and mindlessly flipped through a car magazine. He didn’t even register the pictures that swished by, too busy reeling from that awkward phone call. 

Had he really told her to have a nice weekend? He wanted to melt into the cracks and scuffs in the black-and-white tiles. Real smooth, Joel. He sucked at this shit. 

What was going to happen next? 

He couldn’t tell where her head was at from the phone call that somehow didn’t even last as long as him last night. God – she probably thought he had some type of erectile dysfunction and he couldn’t even blame her. There was no excuse for a man at his age to cum that fast from a blow job, nonetheless. He was not a fucking teenager. 

The longer he sat there in the empty lobby with the melancholy of Johnny Cash’s voice, the more he began to doubt. It spread and swelled in his lower abdomen like a virus. Syphilis. If it festered for too long, he felt like it might turn him insane. 

He didn’t know how he would survive the weekend like this. 

— 

Saturday was usually his day for relaxing. All his responsibilities could wait until Sunday, but he couldn’t sit still. 

Up early, he and Sarah went to the Farmer’s Market and ran errands until lunch time. He deep cleaned the house in the afternoon. The entire main floor was vacuumed and swept, the kitchen counters looked brand new, and even his bed was freshly made with dryer warm sheets. He was determined to keep busy instead of wallowing in his looming conversation with Teddy. 

It might’ve worked if Sarah didn’t innocently keep bringing her up. With homecoming tonight, she was apparently in the mood to reminisce, especially after she’d gotten all dolled up. 

They were halfway to her friend Ashley’s house and the drive had been filled with Teddy. Their mall trip – the dress – the tiny details Teddy helped pick out. 

“I brought my polaroid camera.” Sarah pointed at her overnight bag in the backseat of his truck. “So, you can take a photo of me and show Teddy on Monday.” 

“Oh, yeah. She’ll like that.” Joel forced a smile as the hand of his knee flexed, biting into denim. 

He couldn’t help but feel a stab of guilt every time Sarah mentioned her. Teddy would never cut Sarah out, he knew that, but things were bound to be different now. It couldn’t go back to what it used to be, not after she’d seen his cock and swallowed his come. The relationship would inevitably change between them. 

He just hoped their friendship could be somewhat salvaged. For Sarah’s sake, especially. 

Joel was able to push that out of his mind when they arrived at Ashley’s house. The Murphy’s had been nice enough to invite the entire group, including parents, to come over and take photos. He couldn’t imagine fitting 14 teenagers and their moms in his puny backyard where he could barely fit a playset. Luckily, the Murphy’s lived on a big, well-landscaped lot that backed up against a man-made lake, and not directly into a neighbor’s house. 

The few other dad’s who showed up were all huddled together under the covered patio with their eyes transfixed on the TV screen. The Longhorns were taking on the Wildcats. Still in the first quarter, so it wasn’t even a good game yet. 

Instead of cracking open a beer, Joel joined the mom’s by the rose bushes. 

“Oh my God, Joel. Sarah looks beautiful.”

“She’s gorgeous.” 

“Stunning.” 

They all complimented Joel as if his genes actually put up a fight. Sarah was Lisa’s exact twin. Even more so when her gorgeous thick curls were pulled back into a loose bun with a few loose strands framing her face. The mom’s were right though – Sarah did look beautiful. But then again, she always did; with or without all the glitter and make-up. 

Sarah’s date was a scrawny, soccer player with red hair who was her best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend. Eric. Joel could hardly believe his daughter was at an age to even have a date, even if it was just a set up. It made him feel incredibly old when the kid called him sir. 

Based on first impressions, Eric seemed nice enough. The kid took a few photos of Joel and Sarah together in front of the Mexican bush sage. The purple flowers were almost an exact match to Sarah’s dress. Joel had hoped that somebody would offer when he’d changed out of his dusty clothes earlier and into a different, slightly nicer white t-shirt and a pair of his best dark wash jeans. 

Still, while Joel wouldn’t threaten the kid with a fist or scare the shit out of him with a war story like Tommy would, Joel did give Eric the look – Don’t try anything, bud. When Joel shook his hand, it felt like wet paint. 

Good. 

Joel thanked the minivan moms for driving, Ashley’s mom for hosting the sleepover afterwards, while snapping enough pictures to fill up two of Sarah’s bulletin boards. 

“You look beautiful, baby girl,” he told Sarah one more time before hugging her goodbye. 

She promised to be good and handed him the developed Polaroid, specifically for Teddy. He stashed it safely away in the middle console of his truck then drove away. 

At home, an empty living room quietly greeted him. Not yet 6 P.M. – the sun continued to shine and slice through the curtains onto the beige carpet. Joel had no idea what to do with the rest of his evening. Football, he supposed. Maybe rent a movie – Ocean’s Eleven or Training Day, something Sarah had no interest in ever seeing. 

He whipped up a ham and cheese sandwich and cracked open a beer. Rather than eating alone at the dining room table, he set up on the couch and ate in the company of Longhorn football. 

It didn’t take long, not even halfway finished with his sandwich, before a Folgers commercial came on and he thought about Teddy. She never even used Folgers, but just coffee in general made him think of her. At this point, it was actually pathetic how everything reminded him of her.

For a few minutes, Joel debated on calling her and figuring this shit out already. This limbo was killing him. He even pulled out his phone from his back pocket, found her name in his contact list and let it taunt him, his thumb hovering over the call button for longer than he’d like to admit. 

But what would he say if she answered? 

It had been two days and he still had no clue. He was still trying to figure out how to navigate this whole situation. He wanted to handle it with care but it felt like holding a dandelion puff in his rough calloused hands. Inevitably, it would break and fall apart with something as simple as a gust of wind. Joel carelessly tossed his phone on the coffee table and groaned. 

At halftime, he went and cleaned off his empty plate in the sink. Using his hands always helped distract him. Maybe he needed a hobby. He could always play his guitar, finally learn Never Going Back Again. He’d always wanted to try out woodworking since it used to be his dad’s favorite pastime. 

Joel was drying off the dish when the doorbell rang. 

“Hold on,” he yelled, wiping off his hands with the rag. He didn’t know who that could be, but he’d bet everything in his wallet right now it was Tommy. He knew Sarah would be gone all night, and probably wanted to drag Joel to some bar across town for a wild night out. 

Joel was coming around to the idea of spending his night in a smoky, loud bar instead of cooped up in his house when he opened the door. It was definitely not his brother, not even close. 

“Teddy.” 

She was on his front porch in a pale blue sundress that instantly made his mouth water. The buttery light from the budding sunset sky behind her framed her silhouette. 

“Sorry to just stop by.” She smoothed down her dress and tugged at the hem. “But can I come in?” 

—-

She didn’t say why she was here when he let her inside, but he supposed she didn’t have to. 

It was actually Joel who broke the silence. “Do you want anything to drink?” he asked. His mom would lurch from her grave if he didn’t act like a good host. 

“Water,” she said with a small smile. “Tap’s fine.” 

It was a good thing she didn’t follow him into the kitchen. His hands were shaking so bad that he nearly dropped the glass on the tile floor. 

When he came back into the living room, she was sitting on the couch. He handed her the glass, his fingertips brushing over hers. She politely thanked him before taking a tentative sip. The cushion whined under his weight when he sat. These were the exact same spots from the night she was here with Sarah. This time, however, the empty cushion felt less like a safety net and more like a boulder about to crush him. 

He turned off the TV, the newfound silence giving further evidence of what happened the other night. 

She clinked the glass onto the coffee table, then clasped her hands stiffly in her lap. On the very edge of her seat, she looked ready to bolt at any moment. “I knew Sarah would be at the dance or, at least dinner.” 

“Yeah, dinner. I think the dance starts around 8,” he said and she nodded. He wished he would’ve remembered to bring the Polaroid inside. Maybe it would’ve helped ease the tension. 

But no – he needed to quit procrastinating and apologize for how he reacted the other night. 

Buck up – do it. 

For a moment, Joel searched for what to say, scratching the skin around his neck where it felt thickest. 

“Joel,” Teddy said before he could speak. She shifted in her seat and when she opened her mouth, he braced himself for her to call it nothing but a mistake. “I wanted to come by and apologize about the other night.” 

His brows furrowed. 

“Apologize?” 

“Yes, Joel,” she answered, very sternly. He noticed a pained look in her eyes before she stared down at her stark white tennis shoes. 

“What? I - what?” He sounded like a bumbling drunk and for once, he wished the right words would just come naturally to him. 

She sighed. 

“After our phone call yesterday,” she started, only stopping for a split-second to clasp her gold necklace between her fingers. “I feel like I might’ve pushed things too far the other night. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable-” 

“Uncomfortable? No. Shit.” Joel insistently shook his head. He would personally damn himself to hell if he sat here any longer and let her take any blame for this. Exhaling, he scruffed a hand over his jaw. “Look, I’ll admit - I panicked, but that ain’t on you.” 

“How is it not?” 

“Cause you did nothing wrong. Fuck. I’m the one who should be apologizing, alright? I acted like a goddamn idiot, Teddy. It’s just-” Joel let out a self-deprecating laugh, bashfully tucking his chin towards his chest. “I don’t usually, ya know - that fast. Just got embarrassed, that's all.” 

He absently rubbed at a patch of distressed leather on the arm of the couch. 

“Well, I never wanted to make you feel embarrassed.” She scooted closer – closer. Slowly. For what felt like the first time since the night in his office, Joel properly met her eyes. “All I wanted was to make you feel good, Joel.” Her voice was husky, almost seductive. She smirked and his heart banged inside his chest like a caged feral cat. 

“You did make me feel good,” he admitted, rather shyly. “Just wish I could’ve made you feel good, too.”  

“Who says you can’t?” Her eyes darted across his face, to his lips, to the rise and fall of his chest. She gripped his shoulders for balance before swinging her legs over him. Her knee lightly bumped into the arm of the couch and his hands instantly went to her hips, helping to steady her on his lap. 

Joel stared up at her dumbly for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. His thumbs toyed with the hem of her dress, bunching it up further until he could brush over the bare flesh of her thighs. Goddamn, she was so soft. So pretty. 

“What do you want, Joel?” 

Everything. “Whatever you’ll give me.” 

“No, Joel. What do you want?” 

The last two days – hell, the last two years bulldozed into him. Every feeling and thought he’d suppressed and ignored crashing into him like a wrecking ball. He’d spent so long convincing himself this would never happen, but now – everything he ever wanted and never thought he would have was right here. Right in his lap. 

And something inside him suddenly snapped. 

“You gotta know by now, Teddy. You gotta know.” The words spilled out of his mouth and he hated how it sounded. It didn’t make any sense. Joel shook his head and ran his hands down her thighs to lightly squeeze at the spot above her knees for stability. “Fuck, I ain’t any good at this shit,” he said, in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

She cupped his face so delicately like he was made of porcelain. With a small nudge, he met her gaze. 

“This is gonna sound very middle school, but do you like me, Joel?” she asked and he snorted. 

It did sound juvenile, but he instinctively tugged her closer and nodded his head. 

“Good. Cause I like you and I want you, Joel. Only you,” she said. “So what do you say? Wanna give this a shot?” 

“You fucking know I do.” His hand slid behind her neck, his thumb traced over the perfect curve of her hair line. “Now, come here.” 

When his lips met hers – it was desperate and sweet like cream soda. His mouth crashed against hers with every bottled up dream and fantasy of her mouth, her lips, her tongue. It surged hot and bright through him. 

His hand was a firm weight on the small of her back as he pulled her in as close as humanly possible, until only denim and a dainty sundress could separate him from her. 

She clutched onto his shirt collar before gently rocking her hips against his growing bulge. He tensed his thigh, catching on her panties. She whimpered, already so sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to learn all the sounds she made. 

He couldn’t fuck her on the couch, though. Not properly, at least. Definitely not like he wanted to or how she deserved. Still, he let himself enjoy this for a few minutes. Dry humping like teenagers in her parent’s basement before breaking the kiss with a soft peck to her top lip. 

“Would you wanna go upstairs?” He dragged the back of his hand over her thigh, his knuckles hiking up her dress to reveal a little more skin. 

“Oooh. Am I finally gonna see Joel Miller’s room?” She gave the tip of his nose a quick kiss before crawling off of him. 

She held his hands the entire way upstairs until he led her into his room. “Told you, you weren’t missing much.” 

“I don’t know about that.” She glanced at the navy blue walls, at the painting of a grazing deer in what appeared to be somewhere in Montana. It hung above his golden oak headboard. She pointed at the basic beige comforter, three pillows lined up against the frame. “I’m gonna be honest, though, I didn’t take you for the type to make your bed.” 

“I did a little cleaning today.” Joel shrugged as she kicked off her shoes by his laundry basket. 

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” 

Joel managed to only kiss her twice before getting on the bed. He scooted into the middle, using two pillows to prop and cushion his aging lower back. Again, she eagerly climbed over him. She yanked her dress over her head, leaving her in only a lacy black bra with a pair of matching panties that cut high on her hips. The tiny, pink flower on the waistband was just the cherry on top. 

She must’ve noticed the look on his face because she giggled as if she was completely innocent. “Do you like it? I wore it for you.” 

“Fuck me,” he murmured. “Look at you, you’re gonna fucking kill me.” His hands roamed from her ribs up to paw at her bra and he squeezed just hard enough to watch them pour out over the top. He growled from deep in his chest before shoving his face in between her breasts. He traced the lacy material with his tongue before kissing along his slick trail. “Can I take it off?” 

Smirking, she reached behind her and unclipped it for him. The bra joined her dress on the carpet in seconds. He licked his lips and admired her bare skin – the curves of her body in the coppery-golden glow from the sunset spilling in from the window. When he cupped her breasts, he swore they were made for his hands. His thumbs slid across her sensitive peaks, feather-light, but her breath still hitched – her head tip back and even the column of her neck was gorgeous. 

He replaced one of his thumbs with his tongue, flicking the tip of it over her nub again and again. Kitten licks that made her clutch the back of his head. The way her fingers rooted into his hair was almost possessive and she held him flush against her chest as he sucked her nipple into his needy mouth. 

Her breathing grew ragged and she tried to find friction. She rutted against him, but his hands captured her hips, holding her still before she could graze his cock. Too much dry humping and he’d be actually come in his pants like a teenager. 

“Be patient, sweetheart,” he murmured and she whined. He didn’t allow her another chance to complain before his mouth switched to her other breast and adored it with equal attention. It’d been ages since he took his time like this and he lost himself in the feeling of her soft, scented skin on his face. 

“Joel,” she moaned. It was desperate and raw and hands down the most erotic sound he’d ever heard in his life. It snapped him from his reverie and he grazed his teeth once more over her spit-swollen bud. 

“I know.” He petted her hips before cupping her sex. The lace was soaked and sticky around her cunt. 

Her hips bucked into the flat edge of his palm and for a moment, he watched her shamelessly ride his hand. Her brows furrowed – her fingers clutching his shirt for support. He was suddenly aware that he was completely dressed, and he found it strangely erotic. A part of him enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. 

“Let me take care of you.” He patted her on the hip before ordering her to lay back. She didn’t need to be told twice. 

Joel moved, so she could take his spot in the center of the bed. He tore off his t-shirt and threw it with her clothes. She watched him with glossy, moon eyes as he crawled between her spread open thighs. He captured her lips in a tender kiss before swerving to the swell of her cheek and down the slope of her neck. Gently, he nipped at her collarbone and she wiggled impatiently. 

But he still went slow when dragging the tip of his nose from her breasts and along her stomach where he placed a soft kiss above her belly button. 

When he settled back on his knees, he saw her chest rising and falling. Her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth and she was fisting the comforter. It was hard to believe she was really here, even as his fingers stroked her thigh. She was actually in his bed in nothing but soaked black panties. 

Joel laid down on his stomach, spreading her thighs even wider to make room for his broad shoulders. Face-to-face with her lace covered cunt, he could smell the sweet, primal musk. 

He sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling nervous. He enjoyed going down on women, but it had been awhile since he did anything more than just enough to get someone wet enough to take him. And he really wanted this to be good. 

It felt like it had to be good, after his last fuck up. 

“Joel? Are you okay?” She brushed back a tuft of hair that had fallen flat on his face. 

He shut his eyes but there was no hiding when his face was mere inches from her pussy. “It’s just been awhile.” 

“Well, we don’t-”

“No. God - I want to.” Joel groaned and dejectedly dropped his head against her thigh. He kissed at a mark above her knee. Her skin felt so warm against the stubble of his cheek. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” 

A moan dripped from her lips as he mouthed his way to the dip where her thighs met her hips. His nose nudging along the elastic seam. 

“I’m not usually like this, but fuck - I wanna make you feel good.” He sucked at the spot directly above that damn tiny pink rose and her hips lifted off the bed, almost chasing his mouth. “Want you to know I can take care of you.” 

“You can - you can,” she practically chanted. “Just God. Please, Joel.” 

“Okay, I got you. It’s okay,” he whispered before peeling off her panties. He lifted the flimsy to his nose and inhaled without thinking. She smelled so delicious, musky, like sea salt and jasmine. He lost himself in her womanly scent and stuffed the fabric into his mouth and oh God – the taste. Dully sweet, a citrusy-tang that tingled his tongue. He devoured it. 

It wasn’t until her panties were licked clean that he came up for air. His eyes opened to find her staring at him. Her mouth gaping – pupils carbon-black. 

With a shy smile, he tossed the panties, now soaked with his spit, behind him. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she panted. “Fuck, that was hot.” 

He snorted. 

“Well, you taste damn good, sweetheart,” he said, situating himself comfortably between her thighs. Now, there was nothing, not even skimpy lace separating them. She was completely hairless, which was actually a first for him. Joel didn’t have a personal preference, though he did like how easily he could see how turned on she was. Her entire sex was swollen and glossy and perfect. Licking his lips, he peered up at her. “I wanna make you feel good, so let me know if you don’t like something, alright?” 

She quickly nodded, her chest hitching with anticipation. She wanted this. She did.

He kissed the top of her mound then experimentally licked her slit, keeping his tongue soft and flat. He deliberately stopped just before her clit, avoiding it. For now. He planned to build her up slowly, steady. Words had never come easy to him, so instead he’d show her what he could not articulate. 

Despite his own painful desire, his focus remained solely on her as he lapped at her cunt: He teased and nibbled and sucked on her folds. Letting her little sounds and sighs guide him to find her most sensitive spots. He didn’t know what he’d been so worried about before. Eating pussy was just like riding a bike. 

“More,” she pleaded, and how could he deny her after she’d been so patient? 

Her back arched when the tip of his nose grazed her clit. He smirked against her cunt, the pit in his belly stoked by how worked up she was. It fueled his confidence and his tongue swiped over her clit. She wound her fingers through his hair and tugged. 

Hard. 

And Oh – that did something to him. His cock twitched, or at least, tried to. Pack so tightly against the seam of his jeans. Again – he swallowed the urge to hump the sheets for some relief, snubbing his own arousal for hers. 

As he toyed with her clit, his fingertips skimmed over her slick, hot-heated sex. The thick bulb of his pointer finger caught on her entrance and she immediately clenched, as if trying to capture him. Greedy little thing. 

Still, he peered up at her for permission that she happily granted. He started out with one finger and inched inside her until he could not physically go any further. He cursed under his breath. She was warm and soaked and so tight. 

When finally he squeezed in a second finger, her knees slightly bowed. Even though she was wet enough for him to slip in without any resistance, he rocked into her slowly, mindful to let her adjust. He curled his fingers, trying a few different angles before finding that spongy spot. 

Immediately, she jerked with a deep, filthy moan. 

Got it. 

His fingers worked just as relentlessly as his tongue that was circling and swirling and flicking her clit. So responsive. Her walls spasmed around him as he thrusted into her a little harder. A little faster.

“Oh my God.” Her voice was as shaky as her thighs. He could feel her starting to swell under his tongue. 

Joel didn’t want to stop, but he needed to see her come apart. When he leaned back on his knees, her hand shot out. She latched onto his forearm with a death grip. 

“Wait! Wait! Joel!” Her voice was high-pitched. Frantic. Her cunt clenched furiously around his fingers as if she could not bear to let them go. “I’m almost there. I swear, I’m close.” 

She bore down, attempting to fuck his hand as if she needed to prove she was telling the truth. Like he could do nothing but sit here, and she could get herself off. Joel felt something ugly and bitter twinge in his chest. It made him wonder how often she was left high and dry and unsatisfied by the people she fucked. 

Well, not anymore. Not with him. 

Once his hand lightly pressed on her abdomen, she stopped. Her gaze found his. Her eyes glossy and wild and fucked out. It looked like the only thought in her head was how badly she needed to come. 

“Don’t worry, I ain’t done with you, sweetheart,” he assured her as his hand on her stomach moved lower and lower. “Just wanna see you when I make you come for the first time.”

A filthy moan split her lips when he circled her clit with his thumb. The panic on her face was instantly replaced with relief. Pleasure. She looked gorgeous on the verge of an orgasm. 

“Does this pretty little pussy feel good?” 

“Yes - yes - don’t stop,” she cried out. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, sweetheart. I can feel it.” And he could. “I got you.” 

She moaned his name as she came undone underneath him. Her arousal was dripping down his knuckles and onto his sheets. He caught himself grinding into the air, desperately wishing it was his cock instead of his fingers making her come. 

Her clit pulsed under the pad of his thumb like a beating heart. Insatiable, he sucked the taste of her off his fingers then wiped his mouth. 

She drew him down into a sloppy, wet kiss. The painful bulge in his jeans catching on her bare flesh. By some miracle, though he didn’t burst right then and there. 

She pawed at his bare shoulders. “I need you,” she murmured against his lips that were still buzzing with her wetness. “Please Joel, I want you.” 

“Greedy,” he mumbled, grinning against her cheek. He gave her hip a playful pinch before jumping onto his feet. 

Quickly, he shed his jeans along with his pre-come stained boxer briefs. His cock was heavy. The head swollen into a furious shade of red, closer to purple than pink. 

The light outside was starting to fade into gauzy, gray dusk. So, Joel flipped on the bedside lamp before pulling out a fresh box of condoms from the nightstand. He tore through the plastic wrapping with his teeth, but slowed down when opening the tin-foil packet. 

“How do you want me?” She asked as he securely rolled on the condom. 

Up? Down? He didn’t care. “Surprise me.” 

She shot him a mischievous smirk before flipping onto her stomach. Rising onto all fours. This woman. He had no idea what she would pick, but his first guess never would’ve been doggy. 

He admired the dream-like curve of her spine and she invitingly wiggled her ass. Seemed she was trying to give him a heart attack. Did she know how sexy she was to him? She had to. She had to know what she did to him. 

“Is this okay?” she asked, and Joel growled his approval. He climbed in behind her and palmed at the plump flesh of her ass. 

She opened herself wider until he could see everything. “Shit, sweetheart,” he hissed, marveling at where her sex glistened with his spit and her orgasm.

Joel had to squeeze at the base of his cock before dragging the tip through her slick folds, all the way up to her puckered hole. Even that felt good. Almost too good. And he wasn’t even inside her, yet. 

Once Joel was lined up with her entrance, he noticed how small her cunt looked next to him and didn’t even try to push in. He questioned whether or not he could fit. It was just a fact that he was thick. Even though she was soaked, this would be a tight squeeze. 

Fuck. Now, he was really regretting only using two fingers instead of three. 

“Joel” she whined, but he still didn’t move. 

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“No, I can take it - I promise,” she whimpered. “Joel, please.” She tilted back against him, making it impossible to say no. 

“Okay. Alright,” he said soothingly, calmly rubbing the arc of her hip. “I’ll go slow.” 

And he did. For both his and her sake, he inched into the heat of her cunt. His gaze was welded to the painted deer above the headboard. Watching himself disappear inside her would’ve been too much. The feeling of her pulsing around him was already almost too much for him to handle. Without the condom, this would’ve been over before it could even begin.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re big,” she choked out, her walls fluttering around him. “I need - I need a second.” 

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Yeah – he needed one too. 

There was a long minute where the only sounds in the room were of his harsh breaths, her suppressed whimpers. Then, a slight creak of the bed. 

He leaned forward, his chest lightly pressed against her back. His arms caged in around hers, palms flat on the bed to help support his own weight as he draped over her body. 

“You feel so good.” His lips brushed over the top of her spine and she shivered. “I know it’s a lot. I want you to know it’s a lot for me too.” 

“Oh, Joel,” she mewled as he buried his face into her neck. She smelled and tasted just like salted caramel. 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So good.” He kissed behind her ear, along the back of her neck. “I’m gonna move now, alright?” 

“Please.” The word dripped from her lips – the only answer he needed. 

He stayed close to her, his breath puffing against her neck as he fucked into her. Nice and slow and tender, at first. She met his thrusts in perfect sync. Each one allowing him deeper and deeper inside her and he didn’t even know how that was possible. It was as if her pussy was molding to fit him, to take even more of him. It felt very intimate and overwhelming.

He thought if he was staring into her eyes that he might’ve cried. Sex had never felt like this before. Not with Lisa, not even when they accidentally made Sarah. If he was being honest, sex had always felt somewhat impersonal; stilted, distant, like a glory hole in a gas station, just minus the sketchy bathroom wall.

But here, right now with her – this felt sacred. He had no clue how he ever managed to live without this. 

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted you?” Joel laid his damp forehead between her shoulder blades and picked up the pace. 

“Joel.” She gasped. His name seemed to be the only word she could say. It was as if he had completely consumed her. Her mind. Her body. Her every neuron. He kissed each vertebrae within reach, claiming more of her. 

More. 

“So damn long,” he answered. “And so fucking bad. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and look at you now, sweetheart. Just taking it. So good, just like I knew you would.” 

“Oh God, Joel.” 

He felt her shake, her arms appeared ready to give out and collapse. He wouldn’t let that happen. So, he widened his stance, the comforter bunching up around his knees. Carefully, but without warning, he fully pulled out and she wailed like it physically hurt. 

“I got you.” He shushed her, wrapping his arm around her waist and sealing her to his chest. “Come on, come here.” He guided her upright along with him and she groaned once the weight was off her arms. 

She sank back down on his cock instantly, her ass flush against his thighs. He felt even closer to her, somehow, in this position. Her skin was on fire, the sweat making her back stick to him like gum. Her pussy was drenched and dripping down his balls. 

He could feel her all over him. Everywhere. It amazed him how he managed to last this long.

Joel gripped her hip, his other hand went to cup her breast. When he gently rocked forward at the perfect angle, she clenched. 

“Goddamn.” He squeezed her breast, continuing to hit that same spot. “How are you so tight?” 

“It’s you, Joel.” She gasped. “No one - no one has ever been this deep.” 

The dormant, possessive part of his brain lit up and he growled. Joel buried himself to the hilt, until he could not claim another inch. No one but him had ever touched her here. 

Just him. 

Just him. 

Only him. 

His. 

She was soaking wet, white-hot, and he could feel himself throbbing inside her. Joel wanted to come so badly. The spicy-musk of her skin was swirling in his lower belly with a powerful, burning heat. On the brink of bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He pinched her nipple as his other hand went down to play with her clit. “I wanna make you come.” 

Her only response came in a whine, a frantic nod.

Joel thrusted into her with long, deep strokes that made the bed shake. The headboard hit the wall in a dull, rhythmic thud that filled the room. Just like her trembling, needy moans, his own low groans, and the heady-salt scent of sex. 

She threaded her fingers into his hair and haled his mouth toward hers. She kissed him, or more so, tried to. It was more of just lips devouring whatever was within reach: cheeks and chin and the curve of mouths. It wasn’t the best angle, but it didn’t matter. 

In this moment, nothing else mattered to him but her. 

Despite the tightness in his balls, Joel somehow held back his release. He gritted his teeth, burrowed his face into her neck, and quickly rubbed her clit. The high-pitched sound of his name lingered on her swollen lips as her walls squeezed around him like a fist. 

It wasn’t until her cunt was spasming around him that he finally drove forward. He was buried so deep inside her that he practically snarled when he came. 

He spilled into the condom, but pretended to be filling her up instead. He would watch his cum drool out of her, only to stuff it all back in with his fingers. 

Joel clutched her against him as his hips gave a few final jerks. He would have liked to stay inside her until he went completely soft, but the condom was overflowing. Cum or her slick or more likely a mix of both was soaking into the hair between his thighs. He decided not to test the durability of this specific condom brand. The last time he did that, well – it was obvious how that turned out. 

Holding the condom at the base, he slipped out of her and dropped onto his ass with a few pops and cracks. Damn, he really should stretch more.

His eyes fell to where her legs were spread and her sex was still gaping from him – for him. His mouth went dry. He wanted to lean over and quench his thirst, fill her with his tongu- 

“What’re you lookin’ at there?” The sound of her lilted voice made his gaze abruptly snap to her face. 

He must’ve been blushing because her lips split into a smug grin. Clearly, she knew what caught his attention. But even after two orgasms, she was still a little sassy. Still too damn perceptive for her own good, meanwhile he could barely form a coherent sentence. 

She straddled his thighs, careful to avoid his semi-soft cock. 

“It’s okay, you can look. I mean, it’s yours now, isn’t it?” Her soft, small voice cut through the post-sex fog in his brain. She was looking so vulnerable, so exposed, completely naked in his lap. Even he was more covered up than her, and all he had covering him was a flimsy, full condom that he had not yet found the energy to get up and throw away. 

Isn’t it? Joel got the sense it was not a genuine question, but more of a reiteration – a confirmation. Are we on the same page? 

Whatever she meant, he nodded his head. 

“It is.” He cradled her cheek. “But only if it comes with the rest of you. I’m a greedy man, sweetheart. I want it all.” 

She beamed at him. 

“Well, that makes two of us,” she declared while brushing a sweaty tuft of his hair out of his face. “I want everything you come with, Joel. And when I say everything - I mean everything. The whole package.” 

She might’ve not said Sarah’s name, but he knew that’s what she meant. 

His lips parted, amazed by how easily the words came out of her mouth. That was the first time a woman had ever acknowledged that he came as a two-for-one deal without even a hint of cynicism in their tone. Obviously, Joel realized a kid was a lot to take on. Especially since Lisa wasn’t in the picture at all, but there were some women who made it sound like Sarah was baggage, which was insane. Sarah was the best part of him. 

Speechless, Joel kissed her firmly on the mouth. It was warm and sweet and surging through his chest like an electric current. This is what it was supposed to be like. He could feel her lips break into a smile before he pulled away. 

“Stay here. Let me get you cleaned up.” 

She laid back on the bed without argument, and he disappeared into the bathroom. Joel stuffed the condom into the tin-foil wrapper, then buried it under wads of tissues and empty toilet paper rolls at the bottom of the trash can, just in case Sarah used his bathroom. He didn’t want her to see that. 

After cleaning himself up, he returned with a warm, damp washcloth. She looked pleasantly surprised, a little shocked. Wordlessly, she parted her legs with enough space for him to fit. 

“Such a gentleman,” she finally said after he gently wiped down her thighs. 

“Maybe.” He moved over her tender, swollen folders with even more caution. “Or maybe I just wanted to get a closer look.” 

He winked and she giggled. 

“You had your face buried down there like twenty minutes ago - don’t think you can get much closer than that.” 

True. Joel snorted and tossed the washcloth into his laundry hamper. He went over to his dresser and dug out an old, oversized t-shirt from the bottom of his drawer.

“Caught this at a Longhorns game from one of those t-shirt cannons,” he said when handing her the folded shirt with her panties on top. 

“Ooooooh impressive.” She playfully wiggled her brows, just slightly taunting him. He didn’t expect anything less. 

His boxers from earlier were still damp, so he put on a fresh pair. 

“So, what time are you picking Sarah up?” she asked, seemingly waiting to bring up his kid until he wasn't butt-ass naked. 

“Actually, she’s staying at her friend’s house tonight.” 

“Well, that’s interesting.” 

Joel hummed his response. He was grabbing a pair of sweatpants from the closet when suddenly the home phone on the nightstand lit up, ringing. Only solicitors called that phone, anymore – shit, his cellphone was downstairs. 

He would’ve ignored it, but what if it was Sarah? 

Joel raced to the phone with his pants still clutched in his hand. Once he saw the caller ID, he groaned.

“It’s Tommy.” 

She nodded for him to answer, and so he did. Very reluctantly. “Hello?” Joel swore if Tommy was in jail again, he was going to let him rot there until next week. 

“Hey there, Joel.” Definitely not jail – too happy. “What’s going on?” 

“Uh,” Joel paused and looked at his bed where Teddy was laying in only his t-shirt and a pair of panties. What a beautiful sight. He couldn’t help but laugh to himself; Tommy wouldn’t believe him even if he told the truth. Joel tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder, so he could put on his pants. “Nothing.” 

Teddy grinned at him like they were teenagers lying to their parents. 

“Nothing? Huh?” Tommy snorted. “Then what’s Teddy’s car doing in your driveway?” 

Oh no. 

Joel nearly tripped over his pant leg on his way to the window. The street lights were on, but the sky was still a light enough blue where he could clearly see Tommy standing in the driveway, waving with a classic little brother grin on his face. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I was coming by to drag your ass out and wait - are you fucking shirtless?” 

Joel cursed, backing away from the window like it burned him. The cover was blown and he hoped Teddy didn’t mind, but it wasn’t his fault that his brother came over uninvited. He looked at her and she was just smiling, appearing wildly amused. 

She shrugged, then yelled. “Hi Tommy.” 

Tommy howled in his ear, loud enough that he could hear it through the glass. She immediately burst out laughing, no longer having to hide. Joel shook his head, but he couldn’t even be annoyed or mad. Not right now. 

“You dirty dog.” 

Fucking Tommy. 

#pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miler x reader #joel miller fanfiction #last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel miller

[ktsumu]

RESOLUTIONS (this year is different) tw: alcohol consumption

This year, you wait for January in an apartment that is packed full.

You’re familiar with everyone, for the most part, all people who have played with Ushijima over the years, all people you’ve watched in one jersey or another. Everyone is laughing, happy — even Wakatoshi himself who, normally quite reserved, laughs with one of his teammates, a glass half-full in hand.

This year is different, you tell yourself. 

You know that, whenever you're all drunk enough to call it a night, you’ll call a cab and go home, probably kiss on the way there. He’ll lean on the bathroom counter and giggle while you smear your makeup away with a wipe, then take it from you and do it himself. He’ll be so much worse at it, but he’ll be gentle, and you’ll let him.

This year, you’re going to let yourself be loved. You’re excited to let him.

You watch Wakatoshi from your place on the couch, a small smile on your face. Happy looks good on him; he’s handsome when he’s free. His smile gives him lines around his mouth, his eyes crinkle. His laugh is saccharine. 

He doesn’t notice you’re watching, either, it’s not often he does. It’s not hard to be subtle — your eyes typically find him, anyway, golden boy wherever he goes.

This year, I’m going to let myself be loved.

You met him years ago, sort of in a situation like this. You were both in a bar in Tokyo, you think, and he stuck out like a sore thumb; freshly twenty and new to this, surrounded by teammates who made it obvious he’s never been to a bar before.

They also made it obvious he was new to a lot of things, likely why they made it so obvious in how they were jabbing his side with their elbows, nodding to you sat a few seats down. Go talk to her, she’s totally into you, she’s pretty!

(He didn’t even talk when he first sat down — you offered him a shot he probably needed and he took it.)

The rest is history.

It feels weird to think about going home. Home. You live with him, the bills get paid. He has smile lines and stretch marks on his shoulders. He’s going to take your makeup off for you because he’s seen you in every way you come. You have a house and you have a home — your friend said she thinks he might propose this year.

Growing pains are scarier when they’re not in your knees.

You only notice he’s moved when the couch sinks beside you. Wakatoshi sits next to you, a close-lipped smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he rests a hand on your thigh.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and it’s just the two of you.

You look over his face, his flushed cheeks. You smile, too. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

Wakatoshi is gentle when he guides you towards him, his hand on your nape, kissing you like you’ve never done it before. He tastes like Tennessee, and like a resolution. 

This year, I’m going to kiss him more.

“I love you,” he murmurs. “I’m glad I’m here with you.”

Whatever dread you carried before, it’s going away now.

“You are?” you tease, pulling back to really look at him. An anonymous hand walks by and ruffles his hair, like he’s scoring his first girl, and carries on. He doesn’t look up. 

“Very.”

“Mm,” you hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I guess I’m glad I’m here with you, too.”

“I mean, I would hope so.”

“Hah,” you snort, “I’m excited to go home, too.”

He scoffs, as if he isn’t typically the reserved one; as if he wasn’t the one you had to convince to make a show here. “You want to get out so soon?”

“What, you’re not excited to deal with me at home?” you giggle, craning your head to look up at him. “Not excited to spend, like, a fat hour getting ready for bed?”

He snickers again, taking a sip of his drink. He squints like he drank it too quickly. 

“Like last year?”

“Yup. Except, I don’t know about the last part. I’m gonna pass out the second I hit the mattress, ‘Toshi.”

“That’s okay, I’ll tuck you in.”

Your chest warms, and you both laugh. One of you starts it, but you don’t remember who.

“You’re gonna tuck me in and take my makeup off, huh?”

“Like last year,” he confirms. “And get you water — get us both water,”

“Mm, you’ll need it, big guy.”

“I am fine.”

“Yeah, I know. As long as you can see where my face is, that’s good enough for me.”

“I can find it blind,” he says simply, smoothing your hair back and out of your face. “But yes, I can see it fine.”

You smile all crooked — he tilts his head like he wants to see it upright. 

“We’re gettin' older, huh ‘Toshi?”

“That is how years work, yes.”

“Going home,” you say; your thoughts are all out loud. “Going to bed.”

He smiles — he loves it. “Unless you want to stay out?”

“No, no, I want to. I’m just,” you take a deep breath, “thinking. This’ll be how many years?”

“Not enough,” he says simply. “I wanna do this forever.”

“Hah, well, I have no doubt your body could sustain years of New Years Eve parties—”

“I meant going home,” he interrupts. “Taking off your makeup, getting you water, and kissing you goodnight.”

Your heart swells to the point of being uncomfortable, the lump in your throat impossibly there. His hand hasn’t left your thigh, it hasn’t risen higher, it just sits there. His touch is warm like a swaddle, unmoving. It’s so familiar that you lean into it like you're being carried to bed.

Wakatoshi grins; it’s crooked and you tilt your head to see it upright. “Every year, I think I love you a little more.”

(The dread you had is gone now — why you ever had it, you don’t know for sure.)

This year is different, you tell yourself. This year, you’re gonna grow.

There’s a cheer throughout the room, all this laughter becoming a dull muffle when the room seems to reach the sound capacity the little space has. There’s kazoos, glass clinking, goofy hats falling to the floor — people are singing:

“Happy new year, love,” he murmurs, and he captures your lips again.

This year, I’m gonna grow.

I’m gonna let him love it, and maybe I’ll love it, too. 

#not proofread but first fic of 2024 that i wrote in literally 20 minutes at best. be kind to her she's sensitive #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #tw alchohol mention #tw alcohol consumption #tw alcohol #kit writes

[testingthewatersss]

One day I'll get a request and keep it short, but uh, not today because this could've easily been a series. Under 4k is good for me though, so that's a win.This is my first time consciously shooting for a G/N reader in a long time so, bare with me.

Floodgates Usual Winter Solider context warnings but this is pretty tame tbh Bucky Barnes x G/N Reader Imagine 3830 words Fluff, mild angst. 18+ MDNI Requests open for a while via messages check masterpost for updated availability.

Everybody knows that Bucky is touch-starved. It's the unspoken truth that's used by everyone to excuse his irritable demeanour. It's the reason why nobody minds leaving the common rooms empty when he passes out on the couch in the middle of the day and Steve doesn't let Sam jab at him too much for how sweet he is on you. 

The hope that had flourished when you'd made your relationship a little more public was quickly dying out though. When all the inhabitants noticed that Barnes was still a grouch. If anything, he was more jumpy when people got too close. 

It was Bruce who suggested that the reason might be that the only person who didn't understand this blatant link between being kept isolated for the better part of a century and not tolerating mundane forms of contact might be Bucky.

After a lot of hushed discussion, Natasha was the one who decided to address it. Not being able to stand the undercurrent of gossip, but also not wanting to provoke any kind of intense reaction, she bided her time and cornered you. 

"Does Barnes know he needs some skin on skin, or is he still takin' the long way round figuring it out?"

Coffee catches in your throat. You're in a Starbucks, you've just run a stupid 5k route that you hadn't wanted to and she's asking you this, now?

"Of course, he knows" You reply after a beat, "I mean, we all know, but he really knows."

She looks unsurprised, offers you a brown sugar packet and sits back on her stool. 

"You know, couples-"

"Are you about to give me a sex talk?" you cut her off, humour making your lip quirk, "Please do not give me a sex talk"

"I wasn't talking about sex, we all know you're havin' plenty of that-"

You scoff at her, not bothering to ask how or why that's a topic of discussion at all. 

"-I know exactly what you're talking about..." you decide to say, tone a little more serious now, "...It's delicate, Nat"

"That's why I'm talking to you" she replies, "I want to stop hearin' about it, and the only way I can get Rodgers to stop talkin' is to stop him from worryin' and the only way to do that is give him something."

You consider her words for a moment before nodding. 

"He knows, I know- We all know, but it's difficult for him and I am not going to rush him into anything" You tell her, "but that doesn't mean I'm not keepin' an eye, and for what it's worth, he's gettin' better with the whole thing."

"His attitude didn't seem better this mornin'-" she counters from behind her paper cup, "He nearly Wilson put through a wall-"

"-for trying to get him to go to a couples therapist with Steve." You remind her smugly, "He told me all about it."

It's her turn to scoff then. 

"Any other personal things you want to ask me?" you press, half a challenge. She grins before making her expression intensely serious-

"So, about the sex-"

You don't linger in the cafe for long, and you definitely don't run back. You call a cab, much to Romanoff's dismay. The break from the serious atmosphere of the tower has done wonders for her mood though, and by the time you make it home your arms are ladened with bags. Fast food for everyone and clothes and some new kind of tablet thing that Tony had insisted he can turn into a portable holo-deck.

Bucky is waiting in your suite. 

The second you see him the conversation you'd had about his attitude seems ridiculous. 

He beams up at you so wide that he gets creases by his eyes, and all he can do is chatter about everything that's happened since you left.

Steve annoyed him by out-lapping him on their run. 

Wilson annoyed him, by well, breathing apparently. 

He's finally figured out how to fix the dishwasher, so he doesn't have to call maintenance anymore, and he's finished packing his bag for the mission he's leaving on in the morning, and, he tells you proudly- he's made dinner. 

It's some kind of soup, at least, you think it's meant to be a soup. But, whatever it is, it's good. And he's still smiling as you wash the dishes, bumping his hip against yours when you make a snarky comment about him still not using the dishwasher he's so proud of fixing.

And then he gets quiet. 

You're sitting together on the couch, the same way you have been for hours, with your legs barely touching but with his warm, flesh fingers wound tightly through yours. You think about asking why he's suddenly turned mute, but then you notice the time. 

"When do you leave?" You ask, stroking the back of his palm with your thumb.

"Four" he mumbles unhappily, giving your palm the lightest squeeze, "You're stayin' here, right doll? You're gonna wait for me?"

You laugh silently, pulling your legs up beside you to curl into his side. 

"Don't I always?" you tease, grinning as he reaches over with his metal hand, guiding your lips to his. 

"I'll be back before ten" He promises, "Steve promises"

"Oh, does he?" you murmur, lips still ghosting his, "You know he's driving Natasha crazy"

He quirks a brow, even so, close to his face you can see curiosity shining behind his eyes. 

"Aparently you're a jerk because I don't give you enough skin on skin"

He rolls his eyes, laughing as your fingers find his cheek.

The second you actually touch him, though- the laughter dies. He has to focus all of his energy on not moaning at the contact. 

You feel him tense and lessen the pressure, letting him move instead, pressing another kiss against your lips as he goes back to looking at you, this time, though, there's nothing but adoration behind the blue. 

"you do plenty" he whispers, before moving quickly, standing and pulling you up with him, carrying you effortlessly, "I'm fine."

"I know" You hear yourself agree, although you think he'll hear the doubt in your tone, "But- if you do ever want something, you know I'm here, right?"

What Bucky wants he thinks, is totally irrelevant. 

He wants to lay in your lap for hours, he wants to fall asleep and stay that way for hours because your fingers are in his hair. He wants to cry and not have to hide in a shower to do it. But you deserve better.

You deserve normal.

As normal as he can give you anyway. 

Not that that's much, but he can't control that he reminds himself sternly, what he can control, however, is this.

He can keep the floodgates closed. He can do what he does best and keep it down. 

He can make do with fleeting points of contact. With your hand in his, and your body in the same bed. The warmth of you is more than enough. You being there, smiling safe and lovely is more than enough. 

And when he places you on the soft mattress and watches you start to tangle yourself with the covers, he's once again certain that that is all he needs. 

What would I say, anyway? he thinks sadly, taking his place on the side of the bed that always seems too cold, How could I even bring that up without openin' a whole can of worms? 

His cheeks burn hot with embarrassment, and as he thinks tragically about how much he wants to just reach out and feel you, his eyes start to sting.

"You doin' alright, sweetheart?" you ask, already knowing that he's not. He nods though and forces a smile you recognise. 

"Tired" he mumbles unconvincingly. 

Before his cheeks can get any more pink, you decide to smile back. It works to settle him. So does the way you reach out to take his hand again. 

"I'll try not to wake you up" he promises quietly, "I'll see you tomorrow night"

"Tonight" You correct, looking over at the clock on his nightstand, "It's 1, you're leavin' in 3 hours, you better try and get some rest."

You don't know whether he does or not. He's gone when you wake up, reaching out for the fingers you normally fall asleep holding. He's left a note, telling you he loves you, and that he'll see you soon. And you tell FRIDAY to send him a message wishing him luck. When you don't get a reply, you decide to keep yourself busy. You order a delivery of food, which Bucky needs more than he realises, the state of his small built-in kitchen is shameful it's at best and depressing at its worst. 

In all fairness, a punnet of pulmbs, some milk, 2 carrots and half a loaf of bread is far from that- but still. A stock-up isn't going to hurt anything.

And then you still haven't heard, and the tower is creepy when it's empty. 

Like a school at night, you muse, walking through the walls, chattering to FRIDAY just to have some background noise.

Aside from assuring you that everyone's vital signs are fine, she can't actually do much to distract you, so in the end, you abandon her too and settle for sitting in your suite, on the bed, exactly where Bucky had left you. 

You fall asleep reading and only wake up when you hear the door click open. You beam, rubbing tiredness from your eyes as you wait expectantly for him to come in and greet you. 

He doesn't though. You can hear movement but it's not coming towards you, so you decide to just go to it instead.

"Hi, sweetheart-"

Your happy greeting dies as soon as you see him. Flushed with adrenaline, and tugging at his belt, which is still laden with grenades. When he finally rips it free, tossing it to the floor with such reckless abandon that you can't help but cringe, you walk towards him. 

He's pulling at his vest now. Metal fingers pulling desperately at the straps that hold it in place, growing more and more frustrated as he can't quite get them loose-

"Here" you whisper, hating the look of anguish he's wearing, "Let me help"

His arm snarls as you reach out to replace his fingers with your own. But to his great surprise, you don't even flinch. You just hush out a soft breath and guide the metal palm away. 

"You're fine" you promise, seeing the way he's relenting. 

His brow meets the window as he leans against it, both arms falling lamely to his sides as he focuses on breathing. 

On staying still and not just taking off running until his legs give way beneath him. 

"You're back late" you muse, flicking a glance at the wall, where the time is being projected by what you're assuming is Tony's version of a wall clock.

11: 33

"Not too late though, huh?" you continue, knowing he likes the background noise, "Is anyone hurt?"

Bucky gives a short shake of his head. 

It hurts. The movement sends daggers through his eyes. But still, he bites his tongue and tries to keep still.

He needs the vest off. He needs the layers of heavy, bulletproof padding, gone. He needs to not feel like he's dressed for battle, and he needs the ringing in his head to stop.

"Just you then" you murmur, more to yourself than to him.

"'m fine" he mutters, knowing you won't argue- especially since it's exactly what you've just told him.

You hum in quiet disagreement instead. Tugging the last of the straps free before letting the rough weighted vest fall to the ground with a dull thud that makes you wonder if you should've checked it for explosives first. 

"Better?" 

Your voice cuts through the pulsing in his ears, making him hyper-aware of the way he's still resting his head against the cool glass of a window of all things. 

Is it better? he thinks, rolling his shoulders unhappily. 

"Yeah" he murmurs, "Yeah, thank you, sugar"

And then he turns to you, wearing the fakest smile you've ever seen, and you can't help but reach out and stroke his cheek. 

He flinches. He physically recoils back into the glass with a look so sad that you miss the false grin. 

"They-uh" he coughs, embarrassment burning through his chest, "They shouted my words out through a speaker" he confesses, "I- I probbaly shouldn't even be here- Steve, Tony, they all, all say I'm okay, but I- I might... I, I just wanted to see you"

Your phone is already in your hand. Typing frantic questions to Natasha, to Tony and Steve and feeling your whole chest relax as replies start flooding in. 

The words are deactivated, as deactived as they can be, anyway. He's not a danger, not that a different answer to that question would've changed anything, and everyone knows where he is. When he'd bolted from the Quinn-jet in irritable silence, the entire team had let him go because they knew exactly where he was going, and considering the fact that he's physically uninjured, fighting to get him to go to Med-bay would've been a waste of everyone's energy. 

They still might've tried, in fact, Steve definitely would've tried, if they hadn't all been exhausted already. 

When you look back up at him, your heart cracks straight down the middle.

He's just, waiting. 

Eyes closed, brow on the glass,with his breath making it fog up by his face. 

His back is heaving too, shining in the dim lights of the room. His back is shaking like he's crying, but his jaw is locked tight. 

"What do you need, huh?" you wonder softly, not moving to touch him again, "Sweet, sweet boy- you got off that plane, and you ran- you ran all the way here, and then you stopped in here, why?"

His eyes flicker open, red and sore. 

"I" he swallows, "I had to get it off"

You quirk your head, not understanding, and then you see the vest by his boots and nod. 

"It hurts" he mutters to himself, "It's always hurt. I needed it off"

You know he's not talking to you, but you nod all the same, hoping that it might at the very least encourage him to keep his eyes open.

And then you realise what he's saying, and you can't keep quiet anymore.

"What hurts?" you ask softly.

His cheeks are hot again. He knows that he's embarrassed. That he should be, that it's right that he's burning with shame, but with the way his head is splintering he really doesn't care.

"The vest," he tells you quietly, "My skin, it- uh...it's always... the scars they uh... I- I needed to get it off..."

He looks at you, expecting to see a hint of something. Disgust, maybe? Or pity. What he doesn't expect, is the way you just nod again, expression understanding as you inch closer towards him. 

He bites back a whimper, using all the strength he has left to not just collapse in your arms. 

Keep the floodgates closed.

"Its off..." you remind him mildly, "Your home, it's off... so, what else do you need?"

Bucky blinks, sniffing to try and stop tears from forming as he stares at you.

And then, he hears you sigh, and his chest tightens so much that he can't catch a breath. 

A sigh is never good. He thinks. He's done it. He's finally done it. He's done something that has made you realise he's a lost cause. 

He's the lost cause. 

But, when he forces himself to look back at you, wanting to memorise your face before you leave his world forever, no matter how painful it is, he sees you smiling. Leaning against the window, only inches away from him. 

"I want to help" you promise softly.

A disbelieving scoff bubbles up through the tightness of his throat, and for a second, you think he looks like himself again. Even if he's a little rough around the edges.

"You did..." Bucky reminds you quietly, "I couldn't get it off, and you helped me"

The urge to roll your eyes at his gratitude is quickly tempered by the genuine affection in his tone. You settle for nodding instead. 

"So what else do you need?"

This time, when your hand meets his face he shivers. Feeling something deep in his chest snap as he starts to lean back into the contact. 

"C-could you..." he gulps, desperately shy now, "God, doll- could you just, touch my hair?"

"Your hair" you murmur, love drenching every word as you slowly trail your fingers up past his temple, stroking through the tangled length so gently he wants to scream. 

"Please" he shudders, "don't pull-"

His frantic request chokes off incomplete, the heat in his cheeks making his jaw lock petulently.

"You don't like havin' your hair pulled?" you muse, tone light in contrast to his, "Noted."

"Does anyone?" he wonders bravely, adjusting to the slow, trailing warmth across his head.

You laugh at that, further coaxing him out of his embarrassment.

"Sure they do, Buck," you tell him conversationally, "people like all kinds of things..."

He's melting. He's sure he's physically melting into your fingers. Into the gentle tug and pull, into the wonderful, brilliant sting of human contact.

All you hear is the softest hum. It's content though, so you take it as a win. 

"So since this definitely a winner..." you drawl, bringing your free hand down to his, letting him grasp your fingers in reflex, "What else do you like?"

The part of his brain that isn't purring like a cat, stuttering to a halt at your question. His eyes focus, as he blinks at you, face full of such total adoration that you feel like you should probably look away, but he's so beautiful that you can't quite manage it. 

"You"

That makes you laugh, small and flattered as you shake your head.

"You've got me, Barnes." You remind him lightly, "If we could be doin' anything, anythin' in the world, right now what would we be doin?"

The smile he gives you then is the most precious one he's ever worn. Your whole body flushes with affection as he chuckles silently reaching up and pressing a kiss against the back of your hand, as you scratch your free knuckles against the back of his head.

"I have no idea" he mumbles honestly.

Your brow quirks, before you move, pivoting and opening your arms to coax him in.

He freezes, staring at you with longing as he offers a sad shake of his head-

"I can't- darlin'-" he stammers nervously, "I want to- I- I really- I-"

"You" he hears you whisper, "can do whatever you like."

He shakes his head again, stubborn this time.

"Not that" he mumbles, "Not to you"

"To me" you repeat, curious.

His lips tighten and then part, breath shallow as your thumb finds his cheek.

"I won't be able to stop" he explains, voice quiet like he's sharing a secret, "If I start, I won't ever be able to stop and you- you're-you're everythin' to me and I- I can't put that on you- because I really- I mean it- I don't-"

Your head is already shaking, your arms are moving, pulling him into your chest. 

"I don't think I'll ever be able to stop" Bucky feels his words melting into your shoulder, he feels the heat of your body against his. His bare chest burning against the thin fabric of your vest. The feeling of your skin against his threatening to make his knees buckle. "I- I won't be able to stop"

You shake your head, hushing him as his resistance fades away to nothing. As he goes pliant in your arms, head falling to the crook of your neck. 

"I'm sorry" he whispers, "I'm so sorry"

"You're never listen" You mumble in reply, letting his hand go so that you can hold him tight against your front, "I just told you, sweetheart..."

Bucky pulls away just enough to look at you, and when you see tears brimming in his eyes, you can't help but hush him again, noting the way his hands are wound tight into the fabric you're wearing. 

His lower lip pouts, he tries to avert his gaze but it doesn't work. He just can't manage to tear his eyes away from you. From the way you're looking at him, full of affection. Full of patience and kindness and-

"Didn't I just tell you, huh?" you murmur, smiling a little again, "You've got me"

He blinks, still not understanding. 

So you do the only thing you can. 

You kiss him. You kiss him until he pulls back, until he dips back down into your arms, tired and aching and pressing his own kisses against the skin of your throat.

"I'm not goin' anywhere" You remind him gently, "We don't ever have to stop"

We don't ever have to stop.

Your sweet words rattle through his mind all the way to the bedroom. 

If it weren't for the aching in his knees and the awful cold of the room now that he's not hidden in your front, he might not've even noticed the journey. 

He's too tired, now. His head aches, and his adrenaline is well and truly shot. But the hope of you, of more of the wonderful warmth of you, is more than enough to keep him moving through it. 

I've done worse for less, he reminds himself with every wounded step. 

We don't ever have to stop.

And then there's the bed. The edge of the bed against his calves, and he knows his hands are free and that he should be doing something but he can't think of what, no matter how hard he tries.

You remind him, your hands on his belt, your feet nudging his boots so he remembers to kick them free before finally lowering himself onto the covers.

For a minute the familiar coolness jars him. His head spins and throbs and pulses and then, 

and then your fingers are back in his hair. Your arms are wrapped around him, and all he can feel is warmth. 

Warmth and pressure building behind his eyes. Incredible pressure that finally spills free as his eyes overflow. As he surrenders and clings onto your back with all the strength he has left, and cries.

He sobs, silently at first, tears melting into your chest as you stroke his back. Whispering soothing words that you know he can't hear. Letting him finally just be. 

And then, he's asleep. And so are you, a tangle of limbs and covers and heat. The kind of heat that makes you drowsy, that makes Bucky drowsy. 

Drowsy enough to sleep through whatever nightmares were bound to have been triggered by the missions, drowsy enough to keep him that way for hours in a row. And when he does wake up, for the first time in... well, a long time- he's smiling.

#bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier x you #Oneshot #fluff #x reader #drabble #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes imagines #bucky x g/n reader

[mannimarcos]

dark oak forest commission for @jab-cab, along with some extra concept sketches

#minecraft #dark forest

[steam-beasts]

Something Splendid!

While Thomas was venturing James grumbled discontentedly as he chugged along the mainline, pulling a dirty goods train laden with fresh hay to a farm near Wellsworth. The usually proud engine couldn't hide his disdain for such a job.

"Puh! Typical of the Fat Controller to have me pull a goods train!" James huffed indignantly, his frustration loud and clear in his voice.

James's driver chuckled and shook his head in amusement at his engine grumbling.

"Honestly, James. To think that you've been doing this for years," he remarked, gently teasing. The fireman chimed "And besides, James, it's just hay! It's not that dirty!"

James scoffed at the suggestion. "Ha! I'd like to see you two in my spot! Then you'd know EXACTLY what I mean," he retorted stubbornly, making his dissatisfaction adamant.

The driver smirked, enjoying the banter. "Oh yeah? Well, it ain't easy for us either, ol' boy. It's tough work getting you to move! Even before you became a big fluffy beast! Not to mention how hot and stuffy it can get in here!" he teased as he patted the cab, affectionately reminding James of their own struggles.

James rolled his eyes at the playful jab from his driver and kept his focus on the rails ahead. As they neared Crosby, a sense of nervousness crept over him. It was in one of the fields there that he had his infamous crash back in the 1920s, a memory he would rather forget.

As they approached Crosby, James began to feel a strange, tingly ache spreading throughout his frame. With each passing minute, the sensation worsened, causing him to grow increasingly uneasy.

He began wincing, lightly grunting from the dull pain. The mischievous trucks behind him seized the opportunity for their entertainment. With malicious glee, they began roughly bumping into James with increasing force, their chant of "On! On! On! On!" ringing out tauntingly.

James yelped in surprise as the forceful bumps propelled him forward, his attempts to brake proving futile against the relentless bumping. "Ah! Stop it!" he growled, glaring back at the troublesome trucks, his eyes flashing with irritation.

The trucks continued their assault, giggling maniacally as they kept bumping James with no sign of stopping. James could only whimper in distress as his speed increased, his brakes rendered useless and the aching pain coursing through his body intensifying with each jolt. Unable to regain control, he felt a sense of helplessness wash over him as he hurtled forward, at the mercy of the mischievous trucks. His driver and fireman's efforts were useless, unable to shut off steam or pull James's brake lever.

Eventually, they came around a bend and James felt his wheels slipping off the rails. The driver and fireman jumped out at that point. Panicking, James screamed as he began tipping over "Oh nonononononono! NOT AGAAAAII—!!!"

WHEEEESH!!

He unintentionally wheeshed a great amount of steam as he crashed into the field, his body being engulfed in steam and smoke. Everything in that moment went black.

James groaned, his eyes fluttering open to the harsh sunlight in his eyes. Despite feeling sore and dizzy, James's senses slowly began to come back to him, and he noticed something peculiar. Instead of the expected view of the field around him, he found himself staring directly up at the sky. Confusion clouded his thoughts as he realized that it didn't feel like he was lying on his side as he should be after a crash. Instead, an unsettling sensation told him that he was somehow standing on his tender, adding to his disorientation.

As James instinctively moved to shield his eyes from the glaring sunlight, he froze mid-motion, a sudden realization hitting him like a train. He didn't have hands, at least not in his current form. The memory of his monster form flashed through his mind, stirring up a mix of fear and curiosity as he grappled with the implications what was happening.

Hesitantly, James brought his "hand" to his face once more, the unfamiliar sensation sending a shiver down his spine. It looked like his front paw from his other form, but much more slender.

Gasping in shock, James unintentionally sat up without even trying, his newfound ability surprising him as he took in the sight of the rest of his grey body. The realization of his current state left him feeling bewildered. Looking down, almost hyperventilating as he inspected his new hands with fascination and horror.

"W-What is this?!" He whispered frantically, feeling his new, muscle-toned chest and red tuft of fur. By that time, his driver and fireman had arrived on scene, and what they saw of James was unbelievable.

"Should we get the breakdown train?" The fireman asked.

"And what? Tell them they have to rescue a derailed human train? I think not"

To be continued...

#thomas and friends #thomas the tank engine #monster engines #ttte gijinka #ttte james #james the red engine #ttte humanisation #ttte humanoid

[ceruleancattail]

A Refresher

Leona x idol reader

Backstage was a world of its own. The rapid beat of shoes against tiled floors. People rushing back and forth, like busy little bees. A thousand conversations, fractured and jagged.

Someone wants the av system to be turned down. Another wants to know how the audience is going to leave the premises.

Seated on a couch, you slowly sink into the plush. Merely catching snippets of conversation, half heartedly nodding to anyone who pays you heed.

The performance doesn’t stop once you’re done, after all. There’s still a mountain of things to take care of, if your reputation as an idol was to remain intact. Although those were for your staff to handle.

For now, you could sit down and catch your breath. Leaning back into the couch, you groan, covering your eyes.

Cold.

Ice cold.

Something icy was pressed into your forehead, condensation dripping down your skin. Yelping, your eyes spring open, only to hear a low chuckle. The couch tips to your left, as someone takes a seat next to you.

Eyes of emerald, gleaming slyly. Carmel brown hair pours from his scalp in waves, tugged into a loose ponytail. His mouth opens in a yawn, unhinging as far as it’ll go. Totally unaware of the dissatisfied glares the people were casting his way.

Leona Kingscholar, your infamous manager. He’s been nothing but successful, literally raising talents out from the gutter, into the dazzling lights of showbiz. The Savanaclaw productions were rather renowned.

If only their manager showed the same refinement he demands on stage.

Elbow jabbing into his arm, you huff:

“I was the one on stage, y’know.”

A grunt, before his arm was tossed around your shoulders, a persistent weight pressing into them.

“What, I’m not allowed to be tired? I’m your manager, after all.”

Shaking your head, you heave a sigh.

A can of Soda was pressed into your hands, dripping wet. Half-heartedly, you pluck at the tab, in a futile attempt to pry the drink open. Fingers trembling like a leaf. Your arms sore, aching from the exertion.

Another groan, rumbling from deep within his chest. Calloused fingers prise the can loose from your grip, Leona swiping the drink away from you. With a sharp tug , the can pops open, drink fizzing insistently.

You mutter some words of appreciation, before reaching for the can. Your fingers barely graze the drink before it’s yanked away, out of your reach. Glaring at Leona, you fumble for the can, pawing at his arm.

He demonstrates his reach, holding the can high above his head. Another hand comes to rest on your head, shoving you away.

“Now now, I’m your manager after all. Wouldn’t it be only fair if I got the first sip?”

Raising an eyebrow, you fold your arms, annoyed.

“Fine. Drink up, sir. ”

The ghost of a smirk flickers on his lips, before he chuckles. A deep, rich sound. Almost like foreign wine, fermented for a good decade. Bringing the cab to his lips, Leona takes a small sip…

Before chugging the contents.

You could only watch in shock as this greedy lion milked the can for all it was worth, before crushing the remains. A careless flick of a wrist, and it sails into the trash can. A perfect shot, by a horrible man.

All you could do was to groan.

With much difficulty, you push yourself off the couch. Glaring daggers at Leona, you start to stumble towards the vending machines.

“I’ll buy myself a drink, you stingy manager.”

Warmth surged through your wrist.

Fingers closing around it, holding on firmly. You were unceremoniously pulled back, only to land on his lap. Your back crashed against Leona’s broad chest.

Whipping around, you readied a barrage of insults. Some rather colourful terms were dancing on the very top of your tongue. Opening your mouth, you were only met with warmth.

His warmth. Leona’s lips slot against yours, pressing in with the hungry passion of a beast. The sugary sweet taste of the drink slipped into your mouth.

Tangy.

Your lips stay locked until you splutter. You smack Leona’s back, until he pulls away. He still has his arms securely around your waist, holding you close. Close to him. Your chest heaves, as you pant, trying to refill the air stolen from your lungs.

Leona’s lips find their way to you once more, this time pressing a light kiss into your forehead. He cradled you, holding you carefully against his chest. You could feel it shift with every chuckle, moving upwards and downwards with every heartbeat.

An affectionate squeeze, before Leona’s smirking down at you.

“Refreshing enough for you, herbivore?”

His tongue slips out, sliding across his lips.

“Need another?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #Leona #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #Sunrise au

[jab-cab]

This is a reminder to love and take care of yourself <3

And also to be careful in dark places

#oc art #self portrait #love #care #beware #jab-cab

[still-not-over-transformers]

hi! could you do i mirage x fem bot where she's kinda got the build of a mech and is super self conscious about it. and when noah and elena meet her they think she's a mech and she gets upset and they've got no clue whats going on but mirage does and he comforts her? sorry if this doesn't make sense 🫶

Just the Way You Are

ROTB Mirage x Femme Autobot Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1300

You had heard much about the Autobots’ human allies. As you waited patiently inside a warehouse which was the current hideout for Optimus Prime and the Autobots, you couldn’t help but feel excited. You had never directly interacted with humans during your short time on Earth, and you were looking forward to finally meeting them. Shortly after the Transwarp key had sent its beacon into the cosmos, you had followed its signal in your ship to Earth. This is where you would come to join up with the Autobots and make this planet your temporary new home. 

As for your new comrades, you found them to be welcoming but you got along with some better than others. Of course you regarded Optimus with the utmost respect, but he wasn’t much for conversation and you didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself in front of him. Arcee was informative and kind; Bumblebee was quirky and fun; but Mirage definitely made you feel far more comfortable. Actually, he made you laugh quite a bit, and despite Mirage’s antics often butting heads with Optimus, you couldn’t help but want to spend more time with him. Besides, he was highly in-tune with human culture and close friends with their human companions. 

Your thoughts were interrupted as you heard the familiar rev of Mirage’s engine, causing you to transform from your vehicle mode into your Cybertronian form. In usual Mirage-fashion, the mech peeled into the warehouse in his Porsche vehicle mode before halting to a sudden stop. You couldn’t help but roll your optics slightly, thinking to yourself Always with the dramatic entrance. 

As Mirage parked, both the driver’s side and passenger doors opened, allowing two humans to emerge. Once his cab was empty, Mirage transformed from his vehicle mode and stretched his limbs. As he glanced around, Mirage’s optics focused on you, “Hey, Y/N! Ready to meet my friends?” His tone was upbeat and full of excitement as he beamed with eagerness. You took a few steps forward before focusing your gaze towards the two small human figures standing before you. “I’m glad to meet your acquaintance. I am Y/N,” you lower your frame slightly, trying to decrease the height difference as much as you can. 

Mirage steps in to introduce everyone, “Y/N, this is my boi, Noah, and the badass Elena.” Both Noah and Elena smile up at you, with Noah stepping forward to address you, “Y/N, it’s an honor to meet you. It’s great to have another Autobot on the team. Maybe Mirage, you, and me can head out on the town afterwards. Just the three of us guys hanging out.” Before you can fully process Noah’s words, Elena chimes in, “It’s nice to have you joining us, Y/N. Hopefully Mirage and Noah don’t rub off on you too much. Honestly, we don’t need too many boys misbehaving after all.” 

You pause briefly, taking in what you just heard, Do they think I’m a… mech? You tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, attempting to force your emotions to the back of your mind. As much as you tried, you couldn’t stop the surge of emotions that would ultimately bubble to the surface. You were aware that your frame build wasn’t as feminine as a bot such as Arcee. That you were built thicker and more muscular than the average femme on Cybertron, a fact that had plagued you even before the war, as many a mech would make a jab at your more masculine appearance and voice. It all would become too much, and your body language betrayed your thoughts and feelings. 

Noah and Elena watched you in confusion, unsure of what was bothering you. Noah stepped forward to speak, “Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Was it something we said?” 

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you turned suddenly and glared down at 

Noah and Elena. “Yes it was something you said! It’s something that everyone, human or Cybertronian, apparently has to point out!” Your words came out in a tone of both anger and agony. You would swiftly turn away and transform into your alt mode, before driving out of the warehouse, your destination: anywhere but here. 

Both Noah and Elena are left speechless and with a sense of guilt, although they had no idea why. Mirage looked down at the two of them and gestured to Noah, “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve got this.” He quickly shuffled away from them both, transforming into his vehicle mode then driving off in pursuit of Y/N. After a short drive, Mirage follows your trail to a secluded and abandoned lighthouse on the edge of the bay. Mirage had been here before and knew this was usually where you went to relax or calm down after a hard day. Mirage transformed from his vehicle mode and walked around the exterior of the lighthouse, finding you sitting down, your back leaned against the building. He notices your dour demeanor and softly speaks, “Hey… Y/N, are you feeling alright?”

Although you weren’t expecting Mirage to follow you after your outburst, you weren’t surprised as he was Mirage after all. You kept your gaze averted from Mirage, “...I could be better…”

 Mirage tries to keep a positive attitude and sits beside you, scooching closer to you, “I’m really sorry for Noah and Elena… I promise you they didn’t mean to offend you. Even humans can make mistakes and I’ll let them know what’s up.” His optics are locked onto you, his expression soft but clearly full of concern. 

“I’m sorry if I overreacted, but… it’s not just them, it’s just… everything and it’s hard not to be affected by it.” Your entire life you had to struggle with your appearance and how so many Cybertronians mistook your gender. You always tried to ignore and deny how this made you feel, but there was only so much you could handle. Despite having known him for a short time, Mirage had always tried to make you feel better in his own quirky way. You always laughed at his jokes and you were always down to join him on patrols or occasionally risk a lecture from Prime after breaking curfew. Primus forbid anyone should know you had developed a crush on him, although you never thought you had a chance with someone like him. 

Sensing your distress, Mirage shifts towards you and places a servo on your shoulder. “Y/N, I’m gonna be honest with you. You’re cute as hell and I think you are one of the finest femmes in the universe.” He flashes a brief smirk before his expression changes to be softer and more vulnerable. Mirage begins to go off on details about your personality and how he finds your mannerisms absolutely adorable. But this mech isn’t done yet. “Don’t get me started on how a chick who could bench me is beyond hot as slag. And don’t get me started on what’s ‘feminine.’ Cause what even defines that? Tall, short, skinny, built, thick, all the same to me.” He fires off a shameless wink towards you before clearing his throat and re-focusing, “Look, Y/N, I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner, but I really like you. As in… ‘like you’ like you. But… I understand if you don’t feel the sam–”

Before Mirage can finish his sentence, you wrap your arms around him and pull him close, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Catching yourself, you quickly pull away embarrassed, “...I-i’m sorry…! I don’t know what came over me—” You are in-turn surprised as Mirage brings you close once more and kisses you, 

As his lips slowly pull away, Mirage smirks to you, “I one-million percent feel the same.” 

END

#transformers #transformers rotb #transformers oneshot #mirage transformers #mirage #transformers x reader #transformers x y/n #transformers x reader insert

[kryptonitejelly]

Flyboy (Part 2) | Jake Seresin x Reader  Top Gun: Maverick - Jake Seresin x Reader  Genre: romance; fluff; angst; best friends to lovers Warnings: general hangman being hangman; sexual tension; general cursing; will contain mentions of a break up / previous relationship; general use of pet names; fem!reader; pining; general naval / flying inaccuracies. Length: Mini-series, chaptered - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Epilogue

Summary: Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

A/N: Thank you all for the love that everyone has given to Flyboy. I’m so glad that you guys are enjoying this with me <3 I was not expecting all the love, and I hope the rest of Flyboy doesn’t dissapoint.

Flyboy | Mini-Series Masterlist

(If you haven’t already seen them - blurbs and asks (one-shots coming soon) are also listed on the Flyboy masterlist!)

Flyboy - Part 2

PART 1 <<

Approximately 5.1k words

The two weeks after the day you arrive in San Diego passes in a blur. You hardly see Jake in the two weeks, but being busy doesn’t give you much time to notice his absence.

He leaves you one of his credit cards, the small rectangle placed in the middle of the small kitchen island, with a text to your phone bestowing upon you the task to “get whatever else you need to make this place liveable”. You shoot off a text with a snark about how he had only invited you here for the help, and he only responds by sending you a wink. You slip his card into your wallet, but end up pulling out your own plastic anyway. There was no need for Jake Seresin to be paying for the pastel coloured ziplock bags you decided you needed, just because they looked nice, or for the extra cushions that the sofa just had to have.

Between buying bits for the house, which truth to be told was already stocked up on the essentials, you had ended up spending a majority of the two weeks answering work calls which were essentially a cry for help, kicking off desperate stray emails that were still pinging their way into your inbox, and tying off the last of the loose ends from stragglers at work pleading with you for guidance before you powered down your laptop for good over the next few months.

“Still on that laptop? I thought you were on sabbatical.” You look up at Penny who is polishing a glass behind the bar.

“People are a pain.” You grumble back in explanation as you roll your eyes.

“Shut it off.” She places the glass on the rack above while slinging the cloth across one of her shoulders. “They’ll figure it out.”

You press send on your last email, before jabbing a thumb down on the power button, watching the device splutter to black, before you push down the screen.

“Done.”

It earns you a cheer from Penny, and her teenage daughter Amelia who looks up from her book with a toothy smile to join her mother in your celebration.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Penny asks you, her hands on her hips. “More decorating?”

“No.” You laugh, slightly sheepish. It was clear to the three of you that Jake and your house was currently, hands down, the most decorated and furnished house in the community of aviators. “They are delivering my car today.” You grin, referring to the rental you had booked.

“The car? What did you pick in the end.” Amelia drops her book onto the counter as she slides a seat down to sidle up next to you. It was something you had been agonising over the past two weeks after it had become clear that renting a car for the next few months would be a necessity. You had gotten by with hailing cabs, booking ubers, and on occasion taking Jake’s truck when he decided to carpool in with someone else, but given the distance between places here, it wasn’t always the easiest thing to do.

“The range.” You respond, and Penny groans, shaking her head.

“What happened to cruising down the beach with your top down and hair flying in the wind.”

“I live in a gated community of largely male aviators,” you say as you cram your laptop back into your bag. “Can you imagine getting a porsche? I would never actually get the chance to drive the car myself.”

“I suppose.” She sighs, defeated by the truth of your words, as you slide off the bar stool.

“I’ll borrow yours if I want an adventure.”

“Not sure you could handle her, she’s got a temper.”

“Just like her owner.” You tease, only to earn a burst of laughter from Amelia.

You hug the teenager sideways, before leaning across the counter to hug Penny before ducking out the door to search for the staff delivering your rental.

-

Jake notices the black beast of a car sitting in the driveway as he drives down the street. It’s hard to miss even in the dark, the shine of the black paint shimmering in the streetlight above. It makes him shake his head and grill as pulls his truck up behind and kills the engine.

It had been a rough two weeks, with Cyclone calling the team back in at the last minute, for an intensive break down of the uranium mission, with hours in the air running practice rounds to see how the mission could have been carried out better in anticipation of the programme that was starting the next week. That coupled with mandated training that the team had to go through before they themselves could become the trainers, had him stumbling into bed in the wee hours, and waking up against at the crack of dawn to drag himself back to TOPGUN. It was hardly the way he intended to start the 6 months, but when duty called, Jake Seresin answered.

He enters the house as quietly as he can, locking the door behind him. He unlaces and yanks off his boots, before entering the living room to find you curled up on the sofa, a heap of fluff, or a throw bunched up around your shoulders, your eyes closed, mouth slightly open, cheek pressed against a cushion with your body splayed across the length of the sofa, the television playing softly in the background.

The sight sends a warmth spreading through his chest, and he hardly realises the soft smile that has flickered onto his face as he watches you sleep, your chest rising and falling in gentle waves. It had been the first day he had come home to find you asleep on the sofa.

He smells like a day of sweat, jet fuel and dust, but he pushes that out of his mind as he bends at the waist, easily slipping a hand beneath your neck and the other under your knees. He manages to hoist you up and into his arms with ease. The movement doesn’t disturb you, which is testament to you being a deep sleeper, and his face splits into a grin as you turn your face to snuggle into his chest, cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. Your nose wrinkles for a moment, as the remnant fumes of jet fuel hits you, but you bring a hand up in your slumber to rib the tip of your nose and the smell is forgotten.

You’ve gotten lighter, he notes, since the last time he has had to carry you like this - 5 months ago, on the day you had told him you and Dan had broken up, when he had plied you with enough tequila to get you crying and blackout drunk with the result being he had to carry you to your best. It is he thinks, a combination of being on the mend from heartbreak, and overwork.

He manages to make his way into your bedroom to settle you on the bed before pulling the opposite side of your covers over you, wrapping you in like a human burrito.

“Jakey.” He hears you mumble as he turns to go. It makes him look down at you, only to find you still fast asleep. It puzzles him, why you would say his time old nickname in your sleep, but it also brings him a strange sense of both comfort and joy. He runs a knuckle gently down the side of your face, pushing back wisps of hair that have fanned out on your cheek.

“I miss you too darlin.” He murmurs, the words so soft he isn’t even sure he has said them.

-

Jake steps out of his room three mornings later, the smell of fresh coffee hitting his senses and it makes him pause, his hand on the door knob. Was it a burglary by the world’s friendliest - coffee and ‘hand over the goods’? He treads down the hallway, past the living room, dining area and into the kitchen where he finds you sitting on of one of the barstools, hunched over your own mug of coffee in front of you. Your eyes are hazed with sleep, hair messily piled on top of your head, body swaddled in one of his sweatshirts, paired off with a pair of pyjama shorts.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged out.”

“Good morning to you too Seresin.” You mumble, barely able to muster up the energy to return with a barb of your own. It was still dark out, your coffee yet untouched. You point wordlessly to the filled travel mug and granola bar placed on the small kitchen island beside you.

“That for me?” He asks, and you nod letting out a yawn, while propping your face up on both your palms.

He makes his way over beside you, settling sideways into the barstool on your right, an elbow on the counter of the island, knees facing your side.

“Think this belongs to me.” He tugs lightly on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. It was clear that you had gone rummaging in his closet. He only receives a slight shrug of your shoulder, you still not using words. “Go back to bed.”

“No.” Your protest sounds more like a stubborn whine, and you flap, or attempt to flap, a hand at him. You wouldn’t admit it outrightly even if he asked, but you had taken it upon yourself to drag yourself up a few minutes before he usually left for his day to pull together his coffee, because well, it had been a while since you had seen or spent any time with him.

“You’ve never been a morning person,” he reaches over for the travel mug and flips the lid open to take a sip.

You flip your left palm open to rest the full weight of your cheek on it, turning your face towards him, letting your right hand drop down to the surface of the island.

“And you’re welcome for the coffee.” Your gaze focuses on him, decked out in the khaki of his uniform with his white undershirt peeking out, face clean shaven, hair slicked back. It was hard to deny that the uniform suited him.

“Thanks,” he grins and offers you a belated thank you before taking another sip and popping the lid back on. He reaches over to grab the granola bar, picking up the travel mug along the way, before standing.

“Jake?”

He hums in acknowledgement, looking down to find your face now angled up to him.

“Fly safe.” You mumble, your voice still thick from sleep. You see him stare at you for a full three seconds, before his hand slips around your shoulders to pull you towards him. Your shoulder presses against his abdomen, and your face connects with his sternum as he holds you against him in a hug. Your hand that is at rest on the counter top instinctively moves to wrap itself around his waist, your thumb slotting itself into one of his belt loops. His hug catches you off guard, but at 5.30 in the morning you don’t have the mental facilities to overthink how domestic a morning with Jake Seresin of all people feels.

“Go,” you say against his shirt, and and you can both hear and feel the amusement in his reply as it rumbles through his chest.

“Got to let me go first sweetheart.”

“Gladly,” you want to roll your eyes, but you don’t because it is way too early. You pull yourself away from him, both elbows coming to a rest on the counter, face positioned above your still untouched cup of coffee.

Jake feels the lack of warmth against his body as you pull away, but he lets you and settles instead on flicking the messy up-do on your head before heading out into his day.

-

“It is the first weekend that you guys have been off, and the first thing you decide to do is have a barbecue with each other?” You snort in disbelief as you anchor your sunglasses on the top of your head while stepping into the store.

“Mav.” He states, as if the man’s call sign is explanation enough, and shrugs.

“Decided that he couldn’t go a day without see you lot?” You ask as you pull your phone out from your bag, searching for the message from Tash, listing out the items you both needed to procure.

“Decided that a barbecue would be a good way to meet the trainees before we start the programme next Monday.” He explains in full as he slides his own shades off, anchoring them to the front collar of his tshirt. Jake cranes his neck over your shoulder to peer at your phone. “I still don’t get why Pheonix texted you instead of me.” He grouses.

“Because Tash, knows if she leaves it to you, you’ll not turn up with half the items on the list.”

“Tash?” He raises a brow. “You guys best friends now?” He feigns mock hurt.

“The best.” You say emphasising both words, and he narrows his eyes at you, slinging an arm around your neck, pulling your head against his. Your sunglasses knock against the side of his hair and you stumble slightly, your sandals smacking against the floor.

“I didn’t bring you here to have myself replaced.”

“Then you better up your game Seresin.” You struggle fruitlessly against his hold. “Instead of trying to strangle me in the middle of goddamn public.”

“Shall we, my lady?” He releases his hold on you, and presents you with his arm instead.

“A gentleman?” You question and he sticks his arm an inch more towards you. You sigh loudly in defeat before slipping your hand through the crook his arm creates to hold onto his bicep.

“Lead the way.”

-

“Someone,” Rooster slides onto the bench beside Jake, shades covering his eyes although the sun is fast setting, “is hitting on your girl.”

Jake tears his attention away from his conversation with Payback, both men sticking their heads up like gophers in the sand, eyes searching the aviator crowd, largely comprising of trainees, that dot the beach space just beyond The Hard Deck. Jake doesn’t protest at Rooster’s use of the term “your girl”, but his eyes narrow as he spots you standing in the crowd, red solo cup in hand, your hair glinting in the soft glow of the generous string of lights dotting the space overhead.

He watches as one of the trainees, tall, dark hair, chiseled face, makes you laugh, as he shifts another inch closer to you, watches as you laugh along. The trainee says something else, and his hand reaches out to touch your elbow, and Jake’s fingers tighten around the neck of the beer bottle he has dangling from his grip.

“Aaand she’s passing over her phone,” Payback narrates the scene as it unfolds, the three men watching as the trainee takes the device from your hand and keys in a string of numbers. “And saved.” Payback finishes with a flourish as the trainee returns your phone, and you clutch it back within your grip.

“Must be tough,” Rooster claps Jake on the back and Jake grits his teeth.

“S’ not like we are together.” He mutters as he takes a swig of beer, and Payback and Rooster find themselves exchanging a glance over his head. “We’re friends.” He shrugs.

-

You are talking to Penny when you feel your phone, which is grasped in your hand that is hanging loosely by your side, tugged out.

“Penny.” The familiar drawl hits your ears and you don’t bother turning around. Instead, you raise your hand, palm upturned to ask for the return of your phone.

“Hangman,” she greets him in return before shaking her head, her lips slightly upturned, “I’ll leave you two to it.”

“Asking for something?” Jake’s question rings out from behind you, your palm still upturned.

“You know what I’m asking for.”

You feel fingers sliding over your palm, coming to nestle in the space between your own, bending to settle on the back of your upturned palm, his own palm pressed against yours. It makes you whip your head up to stare at him.

“You weren’t asking for my hand?” He says, wide eyed and innocent as he tugs your combined hands down in between you.

“I was asking for my phone,” you blink as you try to free your hand from his grip, but to no luck.

“I need a drink,” he says and begins to stride towards the coolers, your hand still firmly in his. It forces you to follow along, both of you weaving through the crowd, you just a step behind him.

“You can get a drink without manhandling me.” You grumble as you both come to a stop in front of the coolers.

“This isn’t manhandling darlin,” he says as he scans the coolers before picking a beer. “It’s helping.” He tilts the bottle towards you, and tips his chin towards the bottle opener hanging by the coolers.

“Helping?” You scoff your question out as you pick up the bottle opener with your free hand and pop off the top for him.

“Helping,” he affirms and takes a gulp from the bottle. He shifts you both around to face the crowd. “To ward off unwanted attention.”

His words shift the gears in your mind and understanding dawns on you.

“Nate,” you use the name of the trainee who had slipped his number into your phone earlier on, “is not unwanted attention.”

“Isn’t Nate, a child?”

“Younger by a couple of years I think,” you shrug, you gaze darting lazily across the crowd, but not searching for anyone in particular “would make for good fun, with all the time I have.” You are half joking.

“If you wanted fun, all you had to do was ask.” He drops your hand but slides his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip. He pulls you towards him so that your side is pressed against his. The movement makes you place your own hand on the small of his back, your face tilting up to face a lazy smirk.

“Manhandling me for the ten millionth time this trip Jake.” You push your other hand against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. You catch Penny and Mav’s darting a glance at you both from the corner of your eye.

“Darlin, you haven’t seen handling yet.” He drops the man from manhandling, both to emphasise that he means no harm, and also for innuendo. He squeezes your waist causing the fabric of your dress to scrunch up slightly, skimming an inch higher above your thigh. Your hand goes lax against his chest at the gesture. Jake had always been flirty, whether to you, the lady at the corner deli, or even the gas station attendant, it was just a part of him, and something you had gotten used to, but if the fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach and beating of your heart in your chest was anything to go by, this - this felt different.

“I’ll take my chances with Nate, thank you very much.” You collect yourself, hand twisting down to the back pocket of his jeans where you pull your stolen phone out from his pocket. “Now, if you’ll let me go before you ruin my chances with any of these men.”

You both hold each others gazes, your hand now clutching your phone, brushing against the back pocket of his jeans, his hand still planted firmly on your waist.

“I’ll let you go,” he brings his face down, closer to yours, and you find yourself staring at his lips, eyes, and the soft flop of his product free hair over his forehead. “But behave.”

True to his word, he lets you go, and you clear your throat, meeting Pheonix’s eyes from across the space, she waggles her brows at you and tilts her head. You clear your throat, avoiding her gaze and a few other glances at both of you, snatching the beer bottle from Jake’s hand, and putting it to your lips. Men.

-

The rest of the night had gone by without much of a hitch, but after Jake Seresin’s little show, which Penny had informed you later that everyone had noticed, you hadn’t been approached or spoken to by anyone else apart from the core team of aviators.

You weren’t entirely sure what angle Jake was playing, but you couldn’t say you were surprised either. He had always had something to say about whatever guy you were dating, or whatever boyfriend you had at the time, but he usually had the sense to keep his opinions and actions more measured. It was strange, you had told him before, that he had any views and opinions on the matter given that Jake himself had been in a grand total of two serious relationships in his life, the last of which ended before he headed off for the Navy. Since then, he had been a casual, no-strings type of guy who settled for casual relationships that spanned weeks to a few months, or a mutually beneficial type of arrangement or understanding with whatever his flavour of the moment was. It wasn’t that he didn’t have his fair share of admirers or girls who tried to lock him in for the long run, it was just, as he had told you, he wasn’t interested in anything long term.

Lacing up your running shoes with a little more force than necessary as you think back to the night before, you follow the action by stuffing your earphones into your ears and flicking on your music from your smart watch.

-

You are on your second round around the compound when he catches up with you, falling into a comfortable pace beside you. You see his lips move, and you can make out the words from the shape of his lips, despite not being able to hear him through the music blaring in your ears - race you, if I win you delete Nate’s number. He holds up 4 fingers, to indicate four rounds around the compound, and takes off with a bound in his step, not waiting for you to follow.

-

You manage to match his pace, but barely and not with the ease at which he is running, something which you aren’t all too surprised by. You aren’t a teenager anymore, and being one of the best pilots requires a certain level of fitness. You both see your house in sight, and he grins at you before sprinting off. You try your best, legs moving, arms pumping, to catch up with him, but he soars easily across the invisible finish line before you and jogs a circle before coming to a halt. You on the other hand, sprint past the line, and collapse onto the driveway.

“Not fair.” You manage to gasp out as you rip your earphones from your ears, your words coming out in short fast pants. “You’re fit, and started two rounds later.”

“You should have just run faster.” He says and tugs his shirt off his head before falling into a seated position, legs spread out in front of him, on the driveway beside you.

“I was running fast.” You shoot daggers at him from your eyes, sweat trickling down the sides of your temples. “Can’t you see my sweat?” You gesture to your face, and he throws you a look and laughs.

“A deal’s a deal.” He grins as he turns his face back up to the sky, shuttering his eyes as he lets the sun bask down on him, causing the sheen of sweat on his face and body to glow.

“I made no deal.” You tug at your shirt which sticks to your body with sweat.

“Hand it over.”

“I don’t have my phone with me.”

He looks back down to you, eyes squinting in the sunlight.

“It’s alright, we’ll get to it later.”

You roll your eyes, and both of you fall silent, basking in the rays of the sun.

-

“You know,” you say as you climb into the passenger’s seat of your car before shutting the door behind you. “You could pass off as a dad with three kids.”

Jake gives you a puzzled look, and you gesture around you. You had both decided to go out for a Sunday brunch after the early morning torture run which your jog had morphed into.

“It’s the car, it’s got the dad with kids vibes going for you.”

He shakes his head in disagreement, but ignores your comment, sticking out his palm in front of your face.

“What?” You ask.

“Phone.” He responds, and you shake your head no. “We raced, I won.”

“You’re a bully.” You ignore his hand and buckle yourself into the seat.

“I’ll help myself.” He warns, and you sigh before pulling your phone from your bag and dumping it in his hand.

He makes quick work of unlocking it, and deleting Nate’s number before passing it back to you.

“Done.”

“Bully.” You mumble as he shifts the car out of park and backs out of the driveway.

-

“Honey I’m home.” You hear the voice break through the silence, and you identify it as Rooster.

“Bradley.” You greet, using his actual name, as the moustached man walks in, grinning from ear to ear.

“Always wanted to try that out and see how it sounds.” He says.

It earns him a smack on the back of his head from Jake who walks in after him, Payback, Fanboy, Coyote, Bob and Pheonix following behind. “Then find a wife.”

“Trace is available.” Fanboy smirks as he nudges Phoenix forward, which causes her ears to tinge with pink. You hide your smile as you busy yourself with pulling out plates from the cupboard. Tash’s not so subtle crush on Rooster had been obvious to you and anyone around you from day 1, and if your hunch was anything to go by, Rooster shared the same sentiments.

“Fuck off Fanboy.” Tash pushes him out of her way as she comes up behind you to gather cutlery.

The rest, still joking, fall into line, each gathering the various utensils and dishes off the counter and stove, before filtering into the dining room. With the trainees in, their programme had slowed down considerably, being the ones to help with doling out the train still meant early starts to the day, but it also meant early ends to their day. It had become a routine of sorts that had started with Tash coming over to join you for dinner, which had to include Jake because he lived here, and you were soon joined by Rooster and Bob who had heard from Tash, Coyote who had heard from Jake, Payback who had heard from Rooster and Fanboy who had heard from Payback. Before you knew it, they were wiring you money for grocery expenses and you had somehow become the designated dinner chef of the group. You didn’t mind however, because they chipped in to help clean up, after which majority of the time, you would all pile into a car or two and drive off to The Hard Deck.

“How was the day?” You ask to no one in particular when you are all settled around the table, each passing along the trays of food.

“Your toyboy messed up today.” Coyote says as he passes on a plate of roast potatoes.

“Toyboy?”

“Nate.” Tash explains to you, none of them aware that you never reached out to him because you were made to delete his number from your phone - something that you honestly weren’t too bothered about, despite what you let Jake think.

“Someone here made him hammer out 300 push ups.” Payback scoops up a handful of carrots before passing the tray down the table, his eyes shooting towards Jake.

“That’s mean.” You say as you scoop a spoon of potatoes onto your own plate.

“I’ll say.” Rooster.

“He’ll thank me for better arms and a chest.” Is all Jake offers as he spears a piece of chicken onto your plate, and then his.

-

“See you guys.” You call out, waving a hand up in the arm to the group disappearing down the street, each heading back to their own houses.

“Tomorrow!” You hear Tash shout back and you blow her a kiss before locking the door behind you. The group had made a collective decision to sit out going to The Hard Deck tonight, a combination of being both stuffed and lazy.

You hear your phone ring, the accompanying vibration buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out swiping across to answer and put it to your ear.

“You haven’t forgotten my wedding is next weekend have you.” Annie, one of your closer friends from work’s voice crackles across the line.

“Hello to you too, and no I haven’t forgotten.” You walk back into the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear, to find Jake cracking open a can of soda. He looks at you questioningly before leaning over the counter.

“You are bringing a plus one are you?” She asks, and you frown slightly, you had returned to invite 8 months ago when you and Dan were still together.

“A plus one,” you echo out.

“Please tell me you’ve found one, remember when we talked about this at lunch and you said you would. My mother in law will go insane if I change the seating charts again.”

“I’ll bring one.” You confirm as you eye Jake who is sipping out of the can, still looking at you questioningly.

“Great, you’re the best.” You can hear her sigh of relief, and you chuckle, if the stories she had told were anything to go buy, Annie’s mother in law was the mother in law from hell. “By the way,” she starts up again and you hum in question, “I thought you should know, Dan is coming as Lexi’s plus one.”

“I see…” you trail off as she breaks the news to you.

“I didn’t know they were a thing.”

“Well, as we’ve established, there’s a lot no one knows about Dan.” You grumble out, and you see Jake straighten up, brows knotting into a deep frown at the mention of the name Dan.

“Well alright, I’ll see you next weekend. Please make sure you get me drunk.”

“I’m not sure your mother in law would be too happy about that.” You laugh into the phone as you both bid each other goodbye before hanging up.

“What about Dan?” Jake’s focuses in on you the moment the phone drops from your ear. “Please tell me you aren’t seeing that son of a bitch again.”

“My friend from work, Annie, she’s getting married next weekend. It’s back out in New York. Dan’s going.” You shrug.

“Then I’m going.” He says immediately, his chest puffing out slightly, stance changing to protective.

“Well guess it’s a good thing that I’ve room for a plus one. It’s on Saturday, but I have to be there on Friday to help out at the rehersal.”

“I’ll take the Thursday, Friday and Monday off.” He commits instantly, easily, without a beat, faster than any one of your past boyfriends had ever committed to anything, and you nod, finding yourself thinking thank god for Jake Seresin.

>> PART 3

-

Series taglist: @blue-aconite @rosiahills22 @luckyladycreator2 @britty443 @yanak324 @rule107 @fuckyeahhangman @spidey-d00d @dempy @barista-library @alexwinchester23 @shakira-sasha @bxwitched @lumenseal @obiwankenobis-lap @prettybiching @littlebadariell @actuallybarb @beaner-life-23 @coco-loco-nut @criminalyetminimal @tragzerus @alana4610 @tkmarvel-divergentbish @kilojulietsierra

#flyboy #top gun: maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin #jake seresin fic #hangman fic #hangman top gun #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman imagine #jake seresin imagine #not cm #flyboy fic

[wouldntyou-liketoknow]

I'd Like to Adopt These Side Characters, Please (And Also Make One Arbitrarily To Appease The Vibes)

So, I've already mentioned my plans to write something for our dear single-minute-of-screentime-boys from the FNAF movie. And, as per usual for me, posting some headcanons will help the ideas flow for that WIP. . .

___

Jack Samar

His passengers always are, in fact, "the weirdos." It just seems to happen without fail. College partygoers crashing down from adrenaline (among other things) highs, random drifters that could all probably be in the same cult if you pay attention to detail, that one guy who's all too happy to take advantage of the open secret that the ducks in the park are free. . .Most of the time, it's nothing too serious. But he's still got some very interesting stories here and there.

He's one of the best drivers in town. And that's not just due to his job as a cabbie; he knows how dangerous driving can be, so he takes pride in making sure his skills are sharp. (Seriously, if you've ever driven a car, then you know it's practically a miracle to see someone else on the road who actually knows what they're doing.)

He has a steel-trap memory; he knows every part of town like the back of his hand. Constantly driving on various routes just has that effect on you.

He's a bit of a rescuer. As in, if he happens to see a stray animal while driving, then he'll park, coax said animal into the car, and then drop it off at at the local shelter. If you have him drive you from Point A to Point B, there's a good chance you'll spot a scruffy-looking cat or dog riding shotgun.

If he isn't too tired at the end of his shifts, he'll drive over to Sparky's for a late-night snack before heading home to rest. Both he and Ness are good listeners, so a decent chunk their banter is dedicated to venting about sucky patrons.

He's certainly aware of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria, as well as the rumors surrounding it, but he never really bothered with the place. And he doesn't plan to start bothering with it after seeing Golden Freddy in the back of his taxi.

Although. . .well, that occurrence might have made him start weighing the pros and cons of trying to get more information out of Mason. (He's very much hesitant about it, of course. Yeah, he was the one to help Mason out, but the assumption of Mason's experience with Freddy's is still far from pleasant.)

(Yes, his name is a pun inspired by Cory's samurai joke. What did you expect from me?)

___

Ness Aeoruhndbt-Ultendera

"Ness" is only his nickname, but he doesn't plan on revealing his full name anytime soon. Not even to his friends, for whatever reason. There's also a bit of an inside joke about how his surname is too long to actually fit on his nametag. (Yes, that gibberish my personal idea for his surname. I spent way more time working on it than I probably should have because I was determined to make a weird/funny reference, so leave me alone, okay?!)

He's been in the restaurant business ever since he was a kid; he's worked in several different joints before Sparky's. Coming from a family of foodies, he truly enjoys what he does, no matter how small-scale. Sure, some days are worse than others, but that's just life.

Similarly to Jack, it's not that uncommon for him to serve some strange characters. (Hell, sometimes the strange characters in question will wave down Jack's cab right after they've finished their meal at Sparky's.) Nothing usually comes of it, but he's still more than observant enough to pick up on certain oddities.

He makes a genuine effort to be polite and outgoing with customers. But make no mistake, he absolutely can, has, and will verbally curb-stomp someone if they push him or his coworkers too far. (Aunt Jane was lucky that her jab was minor. Plus, Ness just had other customers to focus on.)

It's no surprise that he LOVES conspiracy theories. Now, he knows which crackpot rabbit-holes to avoid, but he's still the type to listen to true crime podcasts almost religiously. In a way, researching and brainstorming is a comfort to him.

He's actually developed legitimate friendships with a specific few of Sparky's regulars. (Jack and Mason are part of this camp.) In fact, if there aren't many other customers that need tending to, he'll sit down and chat with them while they eat.

While he's perky during the day, he's still a night owl. It helps that his regular-friends almost always stop by in the late hours. (This has also paved the way for him to become a bit of a coffee-addict, but not to the point of concern. Speaking of which: he takes great joy in people's reactions to his argument that coffee is actually a type of soup.)

Oh, and that rubber-chicken-head-pencil-topper? Its name is Fabio, and Ness has been carrying it for several years now. He can't remember where/when/how he came into possession of Fabio, but you can pry it from his cold, dead hands.

___

Mason Kingsley

I wasn't originally planning to make a technical fanego for the FNAF movie. But after I learned that Mark was intended to make a cameo, I was intrigued. Thus, Mason—aka Trauma Boi—was born. His inclusion here (and in that future story I mentioned) is basically just a "What if?" scenario. As in, A. What if Mark had actually played the role of that first nightguard in the movie, and B. what if he'd actually survived his ordeal at Freddy's. . .?

Please read "survived," as "escaped by the skin of his teeth with grievous injuries and is now sort of dead inside."

Fittingly enough, Jack happened to by passing by when Mason fled the restaurant. It's pretty damn easy to stop for a guy who's covered in blood and cradling a broken arm and screaming for help.

After Jack drove Mason to the hospital, the two of them made an effort to stay in touch. Their respective patronage to Sparky's helps out with that.

Time passed, as it tends to do, and Mason eventually recovered. Keep in mind that the recovery was physical; he's still having night-terrors about animatronic monsters. Just the mention of Freddy Fazbear's Pizzaria will make him start shaking and murmuring under his breath, pale and tense.

He absolutely refuses to talk about the incident in detail, but it left some very obvious scars on his neck, chest, and arms. He's constantly trying to keep said scars covered.

Silver lining: shortly after recovering, Mason was able to adopt a therapy pet. Enter Checkers, a golden retriever who's just the best emotionally-tuned girl and is always by his side.

He stops by Sparky's for dinner once or twice per week. He wasn't too receptive to Ness' chitchat at first, but by now they have a solid friendship. (It started when Ness "accidentally" brought out a large side of bacon with Mason's order. Checkers most certainly appreciated that, so it's become a small tradition between them.)

(And just to clarify, because I KNOW someone is gonna read this and take it the wrong way: I'm NOT using this to try and whine about Mark's absence in the movie. It's really not too hard to understand that his own Iron Lung project has kept him INCREDIBLY BUSY. It's an amazing accomplishment for him, so of course it should take priority over a cameo in FNAF.)

___

@sammys-magical-au @that-bat @bee-the-matpat-simp @insane4fandoms

#fnaf movie #fnaf movie spoliers #jack samar #cabbie!cory/jack #coryxkenshin #kenshin egos #cory williams #ness the waiter #waiterpat/ness #matpat #matthew patrick #egopats #mason kingsley/nightguard!mark #mark's abandoned nightguard-cameo-character #markiplier #mark fischbach #fanmade egos #fan egos #(kind of?) #(technically?)

[polisena-art]

hii, ive been stuck in a three caballeros/zé carioca loop recently and been trying to find active ppl in the fandom ANYWAY I *LOVE* YOUR ART IT GIVES ME *LIFE* ! So, do u think Zé would be into funk carioca? In one of his comics he was against the rise of disco (it was the 80s) and kept being a samba fan but i feel like maybe 2000s funk or even phonk would sound good to him, watcha think? Xoxo

Hi!!! First of all, omg, Thank you!! And second, I'm glad you've fallen into the 3 Cabs/Zé Carioca pit kdjdndkm It's always great to see more people coming in. I don't think I have read this one comic you mentioned about Zé being against Disco but I'd love to read it if you have the name of it still!! This is also a thing I've come to notice on some Zé Carioca comics tho! Zé, and the narrative in general, tend to side against non-Brazilian genres of music... mainly Rock'n'Roll. Oh, so many jabs at rock and those noisy chords, hairy guitar players and those damn gringos trying to infiltrate our radios!!! It all reads as very boomeristic at times XD

I kinda get Zé as a "symbol" of Brazilian/carioca culture and him being protective of samba and wanting to praise it always, so I guess this was the take the writers chose for Zé to be ride or die for. And, yeah, we all know that Funk is a genre that was greatly influenced by United Statesians genres, but I think there's no way that the writers would make Zé Carioca be against Funk Carioca. Like,,, imagine the absurd… the character that is supposed to represent your marginalized favela dweller everyman, hating on one of the most marginalized, favela born, Brazilian rythms ever! There even is one story I remember reading where Zé goes to a Baile Funk and, admittedly, things don't really work out for him there, BUT there's no criticism of the music itself (differently from Rock...)!

I think it would be a great injustice to have a world where Zé Carioca didn't get to sing Bonde do Tigrão, Se Ela Dança Eu Danço, GLAMUROSA RAINHA DO FUNK, Tremendo Vacilão, Nosso Sonho and so many more funk hits we grew up with. So, sure Zé's main thing will aways be samba but, at the very least, I think he would be a fan of early 2000s Carioca Funk.

#ask #midgarden #josé carioca #zé carioca comics #text post #Zé being a little rock hater is so fucking funny to me like boy you're best friends with Rock Dad Donald Duck #he's such a grandpa at heart LMAO #somewhere in here you can make a parallel between Zé and Samba Schools being extremely cautious of outside musical influences decades ago-

[xappetites]

one thing leads to another

Russell Adler x f!Reader (Bell) | Adler is half convinced Bell's using tenderness as a battering ram on purpose, he also needed someone to understand him more than he would ever admit, shit's fucked but that's par for the course, as always i sort of added a year between finding Bell and the rest of the game | word count: 1,672

London is a mess, but then again, all cities are. And this one has the benefit of both being friendly ground but not exactly home, in case the whole thing goes sideways. 

Besides, it’s not like Adler’s an amateur. He wouldn’t have started this game without the certainty that he’d be able to handle it, roll with all of the possible outcomes. 

No, this was calculated. 

He purposely picked the side of town where metro police drag their feet, no matter how urgent the call. And he’s carrying a trusty sedative in a hypodermic needle retrofitted into a pen, so all he really needs to worry about is Bell.

Quite frankly, Bell’s all he’s been worrying about for the past eight months, though for the most part he can justify it as just another job hazard. The rest he blames on being a sexually active human with an average libido and moderately good circulation. 

Sure, he’s seen her bleeding out, sweat drenched and bruised from several rounds of interrogation. Feverish, mumbling, staring into his soul like she could tear into him with her eyes alone. And she still slides silk soft over the ridges of his brain.

It was easy to ignore, all things considered; in that dark room with nothing but the microphone and the bell. To watch her, past whatever attraction he can’t shake, looking closely for results. But now she’s out in the world, fully convinced that she’s known him for decades; now she remembers a different Russell Adler. The one he was before the crooked line of his life proved to him that he wasn’t one for an easy ride; the man who would banter mid firefight, with the kind of gusto that makes him roll his eyes coming from Park and Lazar over comms. 

And sure, that means she’s comfortable enough to follow his instructions without much back-talk and she's amenable enough that she’ll take initiative to do what’s best for the mission on her own. She’s efficient and useful; and she claws that old playfulness out of him kicking and screaming. Even if he tries to resist, to ignore her easy jabs, the gallows humor, it’s those damn eyes and the light of affection in them that forces him to respond just to focus on something else.

It’s so obvious that even Sims commented on it, how he hadn’t heard chatter like that from him in years. So maybe that’s why Adler wanted this meeting to be private; why he asked Bell to slip away from Park when he called. Selling it as an added challenge when he dared her to find him in London with nothing to go on but the arrival time of his flight. A test of skill and loyalty.

Just as Park’s had Bell here for a week. Officially, for a briefing of the few leads MI6 has in Berlin. Off the record, offering proof of concept to the powers that be: one shining, sweet success to prove what programming can do. Work. That’s what’s behind Adler standing alone in a no name club, not the impulse to hog Bell all to himself, or the unspeakable notion that he misses her.

He’s too professional to let it show, and he knows what needs to be done, but that’s the filthy truth of him, the way his hands itch for skin on skin contact. The manufactured familiarity that allows her to touch him all the time —hands solid on his shoulders or her thigh pressed against his in the back of a cab. All the more tempting for being forbidden. More nagging in the back of his mind because he’s stealing her from the man he’s hunted for so long. 

The sensation makes Adler lay his palms flat on the bar top, check his watch. All he can do at the moment is wait. 

Two more minutes to his midnight meeting with Bell. Two minutes that are nothing in the grand scheme of his standing stakeout record of several months. Minutes that he watches tick like molasses over his wrist. Anticipation settling horrible in the pit of his stomach with the possibility that, once out of Park’s watchful eye, Bell will abscond back to Perseus. And won’t that be a fun one to explain. A betrayal he can already taste, that hurts in a way that it shouldn’t. Burning as it goes down like the whiskey that’s suddenly shoved his way over the bar. 

“I didn’t order this.”

“Your missus said you looked thirsty.”

The bartender tosses a wry smile his way too, nodding in the general direction of a very smug Bell. Who, at least, has the decency not to appear out of the smoke like this is a private eye movie, she just simply is there, close enough to touch, when she wasn’t the second before.

“You made it,” he greets her, watches her grin grow slow and tilted over her mouth. Her hips angled to squeeze in next to him, lean her weight on the bar and steal a sip off his drink. And Adler hates how proud he sounds, how his shoulders lose tension when she takes the first, poison-taster gulp of liquor like a half apology for ambushing him. 

“You doubted it?” 

“Park can be hard to sidestep.”

Bell outright giggles then, smile blinding in her satisfaction, but she doesn’t offer anything else. She won’t spoil the magician’s trick. 

“So what’s your story?” She asks instead, dipping closer still, until Adler can feel the ghostly touch of her hair against his cheek. “If this were to go tits up. Who are you tonight?”

“Well, you already told the bartender, I’m your husband.”

“Got you sore about that?”

There’s laughter in Bell’s voice, a tease of her fingertips straightening the collar of his jacket. Of course he’s fucking sore, with the way the thought goes right between his legs, aches in the pit of his stomach. Here with her lips on the rim of his glass, her body nudging insistently into his personal space like picking at a wound.

“Just wondering how believable it’d be for me to have a wife so beautiful.”

“Please, Russ, you’re the most attractive man I know.”

She moves, digging out a cigarette and flagging the bartender for an ashtray, and the extra inch of distance is such a deep relief that it takes Adler half a second to realize she’s smoking when they were supposed to have culled that out of her.

“I thought you’d quit,” he tries, as a thin, icy stream of uncertainty slides down his spine. He tries to be rational, smoking is the least dangerous of Bell’s old habits; complicated by the physiological dependence on nicotine to boot. This doesn’t have to be a sign of impending doom, he just has to keep an eye on it.

“In this line of work? It wasn’t meant to last,” she pauses, takes a drag and holds the smoke for long enough to notice she’s having his exact brand, familiar and comforting. “Besides, you give me cravings.”

The eyes, it’s always the fucking eyes. The way they catch on his scar, climbing along until she’s staring him down with nothing but open, honest desire, and a sort of sadness underneath. Like she’s given up on the magnetic pull she feels for him as soon as she admits to it.

Bell knows he’d put the job above anything, knows that’s what nuked his marriage. She knows because he told her, made her privy to things the likes of Sims only suspect. It was easy too, once he got started, to let the words get away from him; maybe not during the first session, but by the twentieth? The fiftieth? He’d find himself in the jungle of Vietnam and in the weeds of his personal hang ups all the same. 

We fought together, bled together. 

A mantra that to a degree poisoned him too. Enough to make him need this, once at the very least, to hold Bell steady by the back of the neck, tasting the smoke and the surprise on her lips. Then he has to do it again, since Bell’s crushing the cigarette out so she can pull herself closer by his lapels, run her fingers through his hair with a whisper of ‘fuck Russ’. And he is absolutely fucked in so many ways.

Fucked in the ease of walking beside her back to his hotel. And in how she sighs against his mouth when her cold hands sneak under clothes in the elevator. Adler feels his heart beating in double time as he finally works himself inside her, inch by inch so he can’t hide from this. He could regret it, he already does, as he struggles to make this last as long as he can, but he can never pretend it didn’t happen. 

He’ll always have the way she clings to him, his name stumbling out of her when he hits the angle that makes her melt, to weigh on his conscience. He’ll keep coming back to her shoulder, still slick from the shower as he rested his forehead on it, because that was the third time he’d come that night and it never lost its edge to feel her around him.

These are the things Adler knows will haunt him. Keep him up at night until he finds the next excuse to have her, in a different hotel and a different city, with the same burning desperation.

And it’s what he sees, clear as day, playing in her mind that night as he tries to drag Perseus’ location out of her. Every kiss and every single time he drew meaningless shapes over her skin while she was curled up against his side.

The way he demands the information but has not let go of her hand, the fact that they both know how this ends. And he can only fucking hope, with her brilliant eyes burning through him again, that she can forgive him for falling for her.

#m: cod #r: smut #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #personal #i want this man to be so down fucking bad he can't even live with himself #'it was never personal' my ass

[waywardstation]

Happy WIP Wednesday Thursday!

Most recent poll voted for fluff, so here is a comparably fluffy segment from one of my WIPs!

Phione Akari AU for this one!

Enjoy; wording is apt to change!

————

Though, maybe she wasn’t writing out a location, but a message?

With the limited mobility of her flippers, and the size of the pen in comparison to her, the work was rather messy and slow going. Ingo resigned himself back to his rice and potato mochi as she continued – both would have normally been considered disappointingly cold by now, but if Ingo was honest with himself, it was still leagues better than anything either of them had eaten in days, out in the wild.

When she was done, Akari dropped the pen with a slick splat and leaned to the side, glaring up at him expectantly as she pointed with her flipper.

Ingo’s hypothesis had been right – on the page, in big, boldly-scrawled writing, it read:

TAKE A BREAK!!!

Three explanation marks. She was serious.

Stalling on the words, Ingo mulled them over for a moment. “Miss Akari, I can assure you that I am alright, and will be even better tomorrow. Our departure is already scheduled, and I intend to keep with it.”

No squeaking, no shaking of her head, and no upset glare, like he half-expected – Akari simply turned back around and continued the taxing effort of scrawling words across the page. When she had once again finished, she jabbed her flipper at the words with surprising vigor, then repeated the agitated movements at him.

NO TRIP TOMORROW. NEED REST

It surprised him a little, how adamant she was about this when her actual body was at stake. But it was clear she just wanted him to regain some lost energy, instead of trying to expunge even more from a tank that was already empty.

And perhaps she was right in wanting this. He had just spent five days out in the wild. Could he really put himself through something like that again? His will said yes, of course he could. But it was paying no mind to the aching in his muscles, already groaning at the thought of going back out there.

And honestly, what could he do like this? A sore throat. A headache born of sleep deprivation. A deep aching that one night’s rest realistically wouldn’t pacify. Maybe if he had managed his cab a little better out there… but that was nothing more than a hypothetical now.

“Alright. I will… rest my engines.” Breaking up the sentence with a sigh, Ingo finally relented. He leaned forward against one aching arm as he gently massaged tired, darkened eyes with the other. He was in need of some decent sleep. “I do suppose the service is sorely needed. We will stay here tomorrow.”

Celebratory squeaking started up. A cold, wet flipper was felt against his wrist, bapping it animatedly – the only way she could really say thank you in this state. Despite his display of exhaustion, Ingo let out a quiet sound of amusement.

“Just for a day,” He reiterated. “And I still intend to be productive in my search efforts tomorrow. Perhaps just within Professor Laventon’s numerous books this time, rather than the coastlands’ beaches.”

#phione Akari AU #wip wednesday

[imagintheworldaway]

The Right Kind Of Love

A/N Super short, super angst, super cringe, we love that no?

Requests: Open

Watching the moon glisten on the water of the Thames almost makes you forget about the murky brown colour the river usually sports. The rhythmic horns of black cabs mixed with the occasional siren and shout created a very special white noise. I watched as the lights of the apartment slowly faded, as tenants started retiring to their beds. 

I was brought out of my trance by a blanket being wrapped around my shoulders. “This is why you’re always ill” Harry's usually goofy voice said, concern underlining his words. “Do you ever regret it?” I sighed, as he positioned himself next to me, close enough that I could feel his warmth but still far enough away that my body still yearned for his touch. 

A silence dawned upon us, as Harry thought carefully about his next words. “Sometimes” was all he said. I cocked my head, my eyes still trained to the water, my silence urging him to elaborate more. “I love you Y/N, i really do, but we both know it isn't the right kind of love” i giggled a bit, a sad smile finding its place on my face. “The right kind of love” I repeated his words. 

“It is sad, once upon a time I thought this would be it you know?” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “You, me, our place looking over the city, a life of fun and friends, us against the world” I took a break to let out a sigh “happiness, you know?” i finished. I finally moved to look at Harry's handsome features. His face half illuminated by the same moon that was gracing the river.  strong , rugged features, tousled hair, protruding muscles, a very different man than when we met. When I met Harry he wasn’t a man though, he was just a boy, a kid, we both were, and that is who i fell in love with. 

Studying his features I rested my head against the wall, one leg tucked under me and the blanket keeping me warm. “You’ve changed Y/N” Harry said, meeting my eyes. “You are so amazing, I hate how it didn’t work. I hate me, i hate our friends, i hate us and i hate you a little” Harry smirked. “Shut up” I giggled. “If you hate me so much you wouldn’t keep coming back” i said biting my lip, the events of the past evening starting to cloud my memory. “I just can’t help myself” Harry jabbed playfully back. 

We took an opportunity to just stare at each other. Everyone knew our past, everyone rooted for us at one point in time. But people grow, people change, people love and people get hurt. “I never meant to hurt you, you know that right?” We have this conversation every time, and everytime the guilt of our past, of my past, seems to overwhelm me. “I know, i wouldn't be here if i didn't” Harry smiled at me. “We were kids Y/N, young, dumb, full of fun and stupid decisions, both of us were.” he continued. 

I took a second to consider my next words. “In another life, it would have worked, i love you, i just wish i loved you more than i do” i said meeting his eyes once again. “So do i Y/N, so do i”

#sidemen #harry lewis imagine #w2s #harry lewis #harry lewis one shot #wroetoshaw x reader #w2s x reader #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw #harry lewis x reader #harrylewis #youtube