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yanaromanov · 8 days

Text

fuck me, i’m famous

｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

paring: rockstar!natasha romanoff x reader

summary: when your boyfriend drags you along to a rock concert of a band you barely know, and then ceremoniously dumps you to go out with his friends after, it feels like your night can’t get any worse. thankfully, the guitarist of the band seems to take a particular interest in you and offers you an alternative offer on how to spend your night that seems just too good to refuse.

warning(s): cheating (r has a bf), but he’s a shitty bf, oc male character, band jargon that may or may not be correct, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of flirting, slight mention of crystals, swearing, many pet names, first time with a woman, smut, fingering, thigh riding, masturbation, scissoring, multiple orgasms, hickeys, natasha talking you through things, lots of praise, slight degradation (?), minors dni.

authors note: okay i feel like this is kinda bad and messy but i also spent too much time on it not to post. i’m still getting used to writing smut and haven’t wrote anything like this before so i hope it’s okay 😭😭 the end is also rushed so plz just ignore that :))

wc: 12.2K words

You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.

There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.

You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.

It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.

The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.

And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.

Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.

You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?

You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.

When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.

Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.

The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.

The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.

When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.

You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.

You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.

"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."

The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.

The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.

"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."

"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.

But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."

The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"

She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.

When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"

You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."

A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.

Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.

"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"

Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"

"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.

Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.

"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"

"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."

The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"

"You don't have to come."

He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"

Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.

"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.

"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."

For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.

Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.

For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"

"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.

The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"

"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."

"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."

"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"

"Not while I'm on shift."

He shrugs again. You scoff.

"Please. I really need to get home."

"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.

You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?

"Hey gorgeous."

The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.

"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."

You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.

Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"

You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."

"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."

Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."

Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."

And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-" "Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."

You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink." Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.

When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"

"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.

You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"

"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"

You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."

"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"

You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."

"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."

You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.

One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"

There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.

"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"

"Natasha. I know."

She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."

Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."

"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."

"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"

"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"

You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"

"Well maybe if I get lucky."

You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."

And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."

"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."

"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."

She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.

You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"

The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."

You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"

"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"

"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."

Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.

That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.

"What's wrong?"

You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."

"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."

Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"

Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."

It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.

You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."

You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."

That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."

The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.

And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."

Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.

"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.

"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.

"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."

Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.

It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.

There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.

The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.

"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.

You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.

Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."

"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.

"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"

You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"

"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.

You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"

"It's a long story."

You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."

And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.

"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.

For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"

You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.

Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"

You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."

The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"

"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."

"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"

You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."

"No?"

You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."

The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."

The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.

And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.

Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.

When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.

Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.

But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.

"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.

When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.

"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."

Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.

"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.

"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.

The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.

As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.

It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.

It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.

Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.

Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."

You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."

You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."

Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.

"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."

You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.

Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.

"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."

She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.

She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.

The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.

"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.

Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.

"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"

"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.

"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."

Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.

"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.

But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."

The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.

"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."

You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.

You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"

You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.

"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.

Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.

The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.

You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.

"You can," Natasha nods.

"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.

"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.

"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."

One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.

The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."

You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.

A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"

"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.

Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.

When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"

You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"

The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."

You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.

Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.

Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.

You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.

"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.

Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.

You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.

"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."

You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"

You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"

The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"

You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."

The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.

"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh fuck, Tasha."

Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.

Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.

"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.

Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."

Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.

Natasha smiles at your clear agreeance, almost smug in the way she licks her lips. She props herself up on to one arm, leaning over you with those dark emerald eyes. Her fingers come to find the crystal hanging around your neck, rolling the stone between her fingertips as she smiles deeply. Then, she turns back to you, looking as sly as she first had back in that bathroom stall. "Now," she drawls. "About that groupie thing..."

#natasha romanoff #rockstar natasha romanoff #rockstar nat #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fic #band au #✧yana writes

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probably-writing-x · 9 months

Text

Missing Piece.

Summary: can you do conklin!reader x conrad where since she’s the oldest sibling, laurel had so much expectations for her and she held a lot of responsibility to the point where she couldn’t even enjoy being a kid. this is gonna sound sad but let’s say conrad chose belly over her but he was really just confused about what he wants which was reader but since her and belly are so similar, he chose belly and the reader had a big argument that led to her being the bad guy and all the stress caused her to just leave cousins and cut contact with everyone. Flash forward like 2 years ( reader is in college and everyone else is beginning college soon ) reader comes back to cousins and everyone is shocked to see she has a son 😭 it doesn’t have to be conrad’s i was thinking it could be like an ex boyfriends or one night stand’s BUT yeah she comes back with a whole kid and she’s so grown now. ( you can add a lil stepdad conrad if you want 😮‍💨 )

Warnings: Discussions of toxic family relations, mentions of unplanned pregnancy

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this is so long but I took this idea and RAN with it! Hope y’all enjoy plz plz plz let me know what you think

You always knew how your little sister Belly had felt about Conrad when you were all growing up. For as long as you could remember, she’d been head over heels for him. She laughed a little harder at his jokes, remembered a little more about everything he said. She loved him.

You weren’t exactly sure when your feelings for Conrad had started, however. He’d always just been a friend. The boy you spent every summer with as the two of you were responsible for babysitting the rest. He’d always just been Conrad. But lately that had felt like it was changing.

The worst part about it all? You couldn’t even tell him how you felt. For the fear of breaking your little sisters heart was worse than letting your own break right in front of you.

“Are you even listening to me (y/l/n)?” Conrad stretches out a leg to kick you from where he sat on the other end of the couch and you look up from your book to see him.

“Um,” You clear your throat, “No, I didn’t hear a word you said.”

He rolls his eyes at you, “I asked if you were coming to the party tonight.”

“Oh, yeah, I hadn’t thought about it,” You shrug, “Is everyone going?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I haven’t asked everyone. I’ve asked you.”

You smile in return, “Yeah, sure, I’ll come.”

He stretches forward and grabs the book from your hands, “What are you reading?”

“Con!” You exclaim, reaching over his legs to try to grab the book from his hands, “Give it back.”

He laughs and holds it high over his head, away from your reach as you fall forward, hand catching yourself on his chest.

You look up to his eyes and he’s looking down at you with a smirk on his lips.

“Can you please give me my book back?”

“I could,” He returns, the pages still tight between his grip.

“Okay, will you?”

“What’s in it for me?”

There’s something about the way he says the words. Hoarse in his throat, almost catching on his tongue, foreign tone to hear from his lips. You feel the heat increasing in your cheeks and try to ignore it.

“Nothing, just give it back,” You groan, stretching far up enough that your fingertips brush the pages and he eventually releases the book from his grip.

You compose yourself and return to your side of the couch, trying to ignore the deep heat coursing through your cheeks.

“Hey!” Belly’s voice sounds from the doorway as she comes in, “I’m not interrupting am I?”

“No, no, of course not,” Conrad stands up quickly from the couch, “Are you ready to go?”

Belly nods, “Yeah, sure. Are you coming (y/n)?”

You force a small smile in their direction, “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“(Y/n) I really need your help tonight,” Your Mom, Laurel walks into the room in their absence, “We’ve got so much to set up for tomorrow so I’ll need your help with it all.”

You set your book down and look up at her, “Actually I think there’s a party tonight that everyone’s going to so I sort of had plans.”

She brushes you off, busy looking at something on her phone, “Well just cancel your plans.”

“It’s a party, Mom, everyone’s going,” You roll your eyes, “Can’t I just help tomorrow morning?”

“Can you please not make this more difficult than it needs to be?” She shakes her head at you, “You’re eighteen now, aren’t you too old for those kinds of things?”

“Right, yeah, eighteen is the cut off point for having fun,” You stand up from the couch.

“(Y/n) wait!” She calls after you, “I need you to go to-“

“The store, yeah, I just got the list,” You wave your phone in your hand, “(Y/n) Conklin at your service.”

Your relationship with Laurel has never been ideal. You were the oldest of the three of you and so her expectations for you seemed far beyond what she wanted from the others. She was more patient with them, more understanding. You didn’t get that. They got a childhood and you got the responsibility of looking after them. They went to the fair? You had to make sure they all came back in one piece. They went to a party? You had to be the designated driver and make sure neither of them drank too much. Something important going on? They got to be kids whilst you dealt with it like an adult. You grew up too fast and she was to blame for that - her expectations tainting any form of childhood you could’ve held onto.

You step outside and start walking towards your car, pausing when you hear the sound of laughter from the others. Conrad has Belly in his arms, lifting her up from the ground as the other boys try to grab her legs. He’s holding her tight, a bright smile on his face when he looks at her. They’d had that tradition for years. Since you were first coming to Cousins. But you were never a part of it. Because whilst they grabbed Belly and ran her to the pool, you had to help your Mom carry in the luggage and set up everyone’s rooms. Traditions, right?

“(Y/n)!” Jeremiah yells over to you when he catches sight of you, “Are you coming later? We thought we could go to the store and get some drinks before we go.”

He walks over to you and the other boys follow behind.

“Um,” You drag a hand through your hair, glancing at the house, “I can’t come tonight, I’ve got stuff to help my Mom with here.”

“Oh come on, you’re so boring,” Steven groans, “You never come to parties.”

Right, because I’m too busy picking up the slack for you and Belly.

“Yeah, sorry, Laurel’s orders,” You shrug, “Maybe next time.”

“Can you at least stop at the store and use your fake? Thank youuuuu,” Steven yells back as he heads back towards the pool.

You roll your eyes, forcing a smile to the Fisher brothers, “I’ll see you guys later.”

Conrad frowns a little at you, “You sure you’re not coming?”

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ll be designated driver, you can just call me when you need picking up.”

He smiles faintly and watches as you head towards your car, your shoulders dropping as you let out a sigh. Laurel’s orders.

———

You spend the night helping your Mom and Susannah set up for their charity event before you eventually get a text from Steven asking you to come get them.

You drive across the town to the other end and pull up in front of the house, texting them to say you’re outside.

Only Jeremiah and Steven step out though.

“Thanks for coming,” Jere smiles, sitting in the back seat, “You’re a lifesaver.”

You frown at the two of them, “Where’s the rest?”

Steven laughs, “Don’t get us started.”

“What’s going on?” You ask, glancing back in the mirror to catch Jeremiah’s face, watching as his jaw clenches.

“Conrad and Belly disappeared together,” Steven explains, “They were all over each other, and then the next minute we couldn’t find either of them.”

“So-“ You clear your throat, words seemingly catching on your tongue, “So you don’t know where they are?”

“They’re together, they’re fine,” Steven shrugs, “But god I’m dreading hearing that story tomorrow.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and lock eyes with Jeremiah who just shrugs his shoulders at you. He was your counterpart in this. Him in love with Belly despite his brother. You in love with Conrad despite your sister.

“Can we go?” Steven nudges you, “I’m starving.”

The three of you drive back in relative silence apart from Steven hiccuping every five seconds, until you reach the house and you pull up on the driveway. You make sure to shut the door quietly behind you so that Laurel wouldn’t complain in the morning and the two boys disappear into the kitchen.

“(Y/n) can I eat some of your-“ Steven calls out loudly.

You stick your head around the doorframe of the kitchen and shush him, whispering back, “Eat whatever you want as long as it’s not the food for tomorrow.”

He salutes in your direction and you roll your eyes, walking through into the lounge and collapsing down onto one of the couches. Your Mom would kill you if Belly didn’t come home tonight, and especially if you didn’t have any clue where she was.

So whilst the boys eat and reside to their bedrooms, you wait.

It’s around three am when you hear the door open again and two hushed voices coming through into the silent house.

“Is everyone asleep?” You hear Belly whisper and you glance up from the couch.

That’s when you see it. His hand intertwined with hers, his flannel shirt around her shoulders, both of their eyes alight.

“I think so,” Conrad hisses in return as the two of them walk towards the stairs.

She steps up ahead of him but he pauses on the bottom step, glancing into the lounge where his eyes lock with yours. You don’t look away and neither does he, so you watch as he swallows the lump in his throat, his hand dropping from its grip on Belly’s.

You look away then, turning over on the couch so that your back faces them. It’s such a quick response isn’t it? Five seconds and now your throat feels like it can’t breathe air, and your eyes are pricked with tears threatening to spill. You let out a shaky breath and grip firmly onto the cushion beneath your head, your chest feeling tighter and tighter.

———

The following morning you wake up to the sound of voices in the kitchen and you groan at the sudden realisation of how uncomfortable the couch really is.

When you walk through, it’s your brother and sister.

“She’s alive!” Steven laughs, “What happened to you last night?”

You drag a hand over your face, “I-“ Your eyes shift to Belly who’s stood with the faintest smile over her face as she sips her coffee, the look of a girl in love, “I was going to stay awake to make sure Belly got back safe but I must’ve… I don’t know, I must’ve fallen asleep before she got back.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, we were pretty late,” She clears her throat, “I mean, I was- we weren’t-“

“Come on Bels everyone saw you and Conrad together,” Steven scoffs, “You didn’t exactly make it discrete.”

“Well, I-“ Belly laughs a little, “We just-“

“I don’t think I want to hear this,” Steven groans, “Please spare me the details.”

He takes a cup of coffee from the counter and walks out, his shoulders hanging low.

You take a deep breath and turn back to your sister, pausing for a second. Something about her seems so different - like she’s a whole new person. One piece of her life fallen into place and she was… happy. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“So, you and Conrad,” You mention, your back turned to her as you pull out a pancake mix from the cupboard.

“I don’t even know how it happened,” She shakes her head, “I mean, you all know I’ve had a crush on him since I could remember and then he told me he wanted us to be together and I-“

“He wants you to be together?” You half-choke out the words, your hands feeling weak, your heart numb.

“That’s what he said,” She nods, “We still need to talk about things but yesterday seemed pretty official.”

You blink a couple of times and take a deep breath, pulling your shoulders back a little, “That’s great, Bels, I’m happy for you.”

Before you can say anything more, Conrad walks through into the kitchen, pausing when he sees the two of you.

“Oh, um, morning,” He offers a small smile, letting out a breath.

You nod in greeting, “I’m going to leave you two to it.”

“(Y/n)…” Conrad speaks quietly as you go to leave, his hand reaching out towards you.

You look up at him and there’s a shift in his eyes, a difference in the way he looks at you. Like he knows everything and nothing about what he’s done.

“Never mind,” He shakes his head.

And you’re gone.

———

You don’t see them for the rest of the day. In fact, you don’t see anyone. You go down to the beach at some point in the afternoon and swim in the flat waves and return to the house hours later with damp hair. Your Mom makes a comment about how you need to look presentable for this evening.

You’ve showered and are sat on your bed wrapped in a baggy hoodie and shorts straightening your hair when there’s a knock on your door.

“(Y/n) can I come in?”

It’s Jeremiah.

“Yeah, of course,” You shift on your seat and he steps inside.

“I just wanted to see how you were,” He perches himself on the edge of the bed, looking at you through the mirror.

“I’m okay, this event should be good,” You lie through a smile, fixing the hair around your face.

“(Y/n)…” He frowns at you, “You don’t have to lie.”

“Wh-“

“He broke your heart,” He confirms for you, “And she broke mine.”

You laugh a little, “Well that makes us sound sad, Jere.”

He smiles gently, softly, “It’s okay for you to be upset about it. You don’t have to put on that facade like you normally do.”

“I just-“ You shake your head, “I can’t be upset. I’m happy for Belly, she’s loved him since forever.”

“(Y/n),” Jeremiah waits until you turn around to face him, “You’ve spent your life being happy for Belly, it’s okay for you to let yourself once wish that you were happy for you.”

You look down at the ground and back up, shaking your head a little as tears pool at your eyes, “I just really thought it would be me.”

Instantly, Jere jumps from the bed and hurries over to you, engulfing you in his arms as you bury your head into his chest.

“I did too,” He mumbles as he runs a hand up and down your back.

“God, I’m so stupid,” You laugh, dragging your hands under your eyes, “I need to stop this before tonight.”

He pulls back and holds both of your shoulders, “You’re going to get dressed into your best dress, and you’re going to look beautiful, and we’re going to drink, and drink some more, and we’re both going to forget all about last night. How does that sound?”

You nod your head, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Jeremiah grins, “Now cheer up before you make me cry too.”

You laugh softly, watching him disappear before you let out a shaky breath, turning back to yourself in the mirror and setting your shoulders back to fix your posture.

You could do this.

———

By the time you come downstairs, the house is flooded with people all in attendance for the event. The garden doors are open and people have spilled outside, all mingling between each other as Susannah goes around to greet everyone that she can.

You take a glass of champagne from the tray in the kitchen and tip it back until the liquid empties down your throat, and you grimace a little at the taste.

“Woah, take it easy Conklin,” Steven raises his brows at you as you refill your glass, “You never drink.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a party isn’t it?” You shrug your shoulders, tipping back another glass.

“Who are you and what have you done with my sister?” Steven laughs.

You go to respond but your eyes fall on the pair just across the room. The girl’s fingers fixing the bow tie around the boy’s neck, her hands settling onto his chest soon after, a smile on her face. Belly and Conrad.

“They seem pretty-“

“Yeah, I know,” You respond quickly, “Made for each other.”

“I was going to say full-on,” Steven grimaces, “It’s weird.”

You shrug, “Maybe they’re happy.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to ignore the tightening in your chest, sure that you could leave at that sight alone.

How could you do this? How could you be normal with them when it was like this? How could you spend every day with them?

“I can’t be here,” You shake your head, “I need some air.”

You grab a bottle of tequila from the liquor display and take it with you outside, sipping from it before you’ve even got to the garden.

It’s colder as the sun is already setting but another sip of tequila seems to take the edge off just a little, and its already going to your head.

You start making your way around the perimeter of the pool, your steps a little off balance as you teeter across the edge.

“(Y/n)?” Belly’s voice calls from the doorway of the house, “What are you doing out here?”

Your foot spins you to face her and you catch sight of her at the door, a black jacket wrapped around her shoulders. The sight makes your heart sink into your stomach, churning your insides.

“Come on, Mom wants you to mingle wit-“

“I don’t care what Mom wants,” You reply harshly, swigging back the tequila once again.

“Wh- what are you talking about?”

“I’ve done my bit, okay? I’ve done more than my bit. She can leave me alone for one night,” You roll your eyes, “Just one fucking night.”

“What’s going on with you (y/n)? This isn’t like you,” She wraps her arms around herself, the jacket tightening across her shoulders.

“Is that… is that his jacket?”

The rational part of you is unsure as to why you even ask it. But the tequila is almost a third gone now, and you’re not sure the rational is what’s in control anymore.

“We- yeah, he gave it to me to come outside,” Belly confirms, “What’s that got to do with-“

“Did you know I liked him?” You interrupt.

“(Y/n) what-“

“Answer the question,” Your words are harsh, too harsh probably, “When you kissed him last night, when he told you he wanted to be with you, did you know that I liked him?”

“Come on, you know how I’ve felt about Conrad, how I feel about him,” Belly shakes her head, “This isn’t ab-“

“About me? Right, of course it’s not,” You scoff, stepping towards her, “Because god forbid things don’t work out the way Belly wants them to, right? God forbid we’re not all making sure that you’re happy and that things are going your way. God forbid anyone else get a fucking happy ending!”

You know you’re raising your voice, you can tell from the way she flinches as you speak. But that doesn’t seem to matter anymore either.

“You wanted him and so you got him. And me and Jere? We don’t matter, do we? We’re just thrown to the curb so that you can be fucking happy,” You half laugh, “I gave up everything for you, Belly. For you and for Steven, I gave up my whole fucking childhood. I couldn’t be a child because you two needed to be them instead. So I grew up, I stopped going out so I could do chores for Mom, chores that you missed because you were too busy with Taylor or at volleyball or failing your fucking classes. I did it all! I gave up everything. And the one thing it felt like I had was… him.”

You choke out the last word and feel the tears prick at your eyes.

“Conrad was the only one that understood, the only one who knew what it was like to feel responsible for your asses,” You scoff, “And… I gave that up too.”

“You didn’t give him up, (y/n), Conrad chose to be with me!” Belly defends, her voice breaking.

By now, the small crowd in the garden has started to increase to hear what was going on, people slowly starting to trail out of the door until you see the familiar faces.

“Girls, can we try doing this somewhere else?” Susannah steps outside, trying to smile for the guests gathering around.

“(Y/n)!” Laurel hisses, hurrying down to where the two of you stood, “Can you control yourself please? There are guests here!”

You look at her and let out a scoff, “My fault, of course.”

“You should know better,” She mutters to you, faking a polite smile for the people watching.

“Yeah, maybe I should, Mom,” You nod, fighting back your tears, “Excuse me.”

You step away from her and Belly and push your way across the garden, towards the side of the house, past the outdoor shower.

“(Y/n)!” Conrad’s voice approaches from behind you.

You keep walking in your direction, refusing to be interrupted until you feel the grip of his arm around your wrist, turning you around.

“Get off me, Conrad,” You pull away from him but his grip remains.

“Talk to me (Y/n)!” He exclaims, “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on.”

“Tell you what’s going on?” You laugh, “Like you don’t fucking know!”

“l do- What do you want me to say?” He looks frantically between your eyes, dropping his hand from your arm.

“I want you to tell me that it’s Belly you want,” You snap, “I want you to tell me that you feel the same way about her as she feels about you.”

“It’s- I mean… it’s complicated.”

“It fucking shouldn’t be!” You yell back, “You chose her, you should know how you feel about her.”

“Chose her? What… you…”

“Yeah, you fucking chose her!” You push his chest, “I was right fucking here Conrad! I was right here! I’ve always been here,” Your voice cracks and tears spill over your cheeks.

Conrad holds your hands over his chest, like he wants to hold onto a piece of you, “(Y/n) I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t know,” You step back, sniffing, “Of course you didn’t.”

“(Y/n)…” His voice trails off as he sees you, the broken version of you that he seemed to cause.

“It’s always been her, hasn’t it? She was Laurel’s favourite daughter, she was the more popular one at school, she’s Susannah’s favourite, she’s… she’s yours. And I was there to just… drive her home, cook her dinner, let her cry, buy her shit to make her feel better. I was just… there.”

He doesn’t speak, watching the way you seem to shrink into yourself at the words.

“I’m never going to be good enough, am I? For Laurel, for this family… for you?”

“(Y/n) please…”

“I’m sorry, I just… I need to…” You clear your throat, dragging a hand through your hair before you hurry inside.

———

You don’t get much sleep that night, instead running over a thousand options in your head before settling on the only one that makes any sense - that you need to go.

By five, you’ve packed up your things into a bag, checked over everything twice to make sure nothing was left behind, and grabbed your keys to head downstairs. The house is silent, and littered with the fancy aftermath of the party. You glance behind you once more and step outside, fleeing towards your car.

“(Y/n)!” Even the sound of your name rings through a trauma from the night before.

You turn around against the bright morning light to see Conrad jogging towards you.

“What are you doing?” He asks you, a frown on his face.

“I’m…” You clear your throat, “I’m just heading out.”

He looks down at the bag in your hand and his shoulders drop, “You’re leaving.”

You take a deep breath, “I… I have to Con.”

“(Y/n) please,” He reaches forward and takes one of your hands into his, “I need you to know, I- I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never wanted that.”

You pull your hand from his grip and cup the side of his face, your thumb brushing his cheek, “Con, I know you didn’t. But, I can’t stay here like this. I can’t be here. Okay?”

He looks away from you momentarily and back up to your eyes, his seemingly losing their hope.

You brush away the strands of hair around his forehead, “I’ll see you around, Fisher.”

—— 2 Years Later ——

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Carmen asks you, perched on the edge of your bed, “I mean, seriously, how long has it been?”

“Two years,” You confirm, folding up another top to put into your bag, “And I think it’s a terrible idea, but I’ve got to bite the bullet eventually.”

“How do you think they’re going to react?” He persists, “Do you think they’ll be mad?”

“Um,” You take a deep breath, “Maybe. I think it’ll be a shock more than anything. I just, I want them to see me, you know? And, look, Jere never did anything wrong. He’s reached out to be a thousand times and I want to be there for him today - that’s all I care about.”

“And who can be mad at a little face like this?” Carmen looks down at the small bundle wrapped in his crib, peacefully asleep for now.

Your son had been born two months ago. You and Carmen had been dating through your first year of college before you fell pregnant. You’d split up only a few weeks before you found out you were expecting, but the two of you had managed to successfully co-parent so far. He came to all of your appointments, asked far too many questions, slept on the spare room in your dorm when he was worried about you, and had held your hand all through the delivery. Since then, you’d managed to both fit your schedules around taking care of your baby. He worked weekends and you worked evenings, he stayed in your dorm when he knew you needed to sleep and you both avoided a fair bit of socialising so that you could be there for your son. It worked. And, more than anything, you were the happiest you’d been.

“Alright little man, be good for Mommy okay?” Carmen lifts up your son, Kylo, from his bed, “I’ll see you soon.”

He sets the baby into his car seat and fixes the straps around his chest.

“I’ll help you get him in the car,” Carmen encourages, following behind you as the two of you leave the dorm and head down towards the parking lot.

He fixes the car seat into its slot in the car, checking it twice before he steps back.

“Alright, I’ll let you know if it’s a disaster and I’ll be driving back tonight,” You laugh a little, “And if you get an SOS text from me please put your foot down and get there as soon as you can.”

Carmen chuckles, squeezing your arm, “It’s going to be fine, okay? They love you and they miss you.”

You nod, “Let’s hope so.”

“Drive safe,” He steps back, letting you get into the drivers seat.

“Wish me luck,” You smile, waving goodbye as you reverse out of the parking spot.

It had been two years since you’d seen the Fishers, and even your own family. You’d left that day at the beach house and not returned. There were countless calls from your Mom, and Steven, and Susannah and Jere. But nothing from Conrad and Belly. You’d moved your things out of your home shortly after and moved into college as early as you could. It has been good for you.

The first big milestone was when you didn’t go home for thanksgiving. All of the family would be at Cousins and you told your Mom you couldn’t make it. The same again at Christmas. Eventually, a few months after, Laurel had stopped trying. She knew you needed your space, as much as she resented you for it. You’d kept in touch with Steven, and Jeremiah still spoke to you as much as he could. But none of them knew about Kylo. You weren’t ready for that yet. This was your son, you’d done it without them then and you could still do it without them. But he deserved to have them in his life. So, when Jeremiah had invited you to his graduation, you’d agreed.

It couldn’t be as bad as it was two years ago, right?

———

As soon as you arrive in Cousins, you stop at the hotel room that you’d booked for the two of you. Sure, you were okay with being here, but that didn’t mean you wanted to stay at the house.

You shoot Jeremiah a text to tell him you’re near and he tells you he’ll be waiting outside. You text Carmen to tell him you’re already considering turning back.

There was just something so strange about seeing these streets again, these houses, these places that held so many memories. And, as you near the water, the house that held more memories for you than anywhere in the world.

True to his word, as you pull up into the driveway, Jeremiah is waiting on the steps for you.

He hurries straight over to the car before you’ve even stepped out.

“Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” He grins, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“You too Jere, I’ve missed you,” You squeeze him in return, “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Wh-“ His face drops a little when he catches sight of the seats in the back of your car, “Why do you have a-“

“Um, yeah,” You laugh a little, “I might’ve forgot to mention I was bringing a plus one.”

You open the side door to the back seats and unclamp the car seat from the chair, lifting it out.

“Jere, this is Kylo,” You let out a shaky breath, “My son.”

Jeremiah’s face drops, dumbfounded, “Oh m- I mean I- Congratulations! He looks exactly like you.”

You chuckle, “I’m sorry I didn’t mention him, I just didn’t know how to say it over a text.”

Jeremiah shakes his head, “Don’t apologise. Come on, nobody’s home, you can come inside.”

He takes your baby bag from you as you carry Kylo into the empty house, a flood of memories hitting you as you do. Nothing had changed here and yet everything had changed with you.

“Do you feel like you’re ready to see everyone?” Jeremiah asks, sitting down beside you on the couch.

“Not in the slightest,” You shake your head, “But I can’t wait any longer.”

“You’re right,” Jeremiah nods, “From what I’ve heard, they’re all just ready for you to come home.”

You smile, lifting Kylo out of his seat, “I’m ready for him to have a family too.”

Jeremiah wraps an arm around your shoulder and squeezes.

“Oh shit, I think that might be their-“ He stops himself, “Yeah, that’s them. Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath and shift your position on the couch, “I’m okay.”

You were far from it. You were sure your mind was racing a million miles a minute, and every muscle in your body was tense. You were sure Kylo could feel it too, whinging in your arms. Part of you wanted to run, but you’d done enough of that two years ago. Not anymore.

“Hey, Jere, who the hell is parked in the-“ It’s Steven’s voice first, “Oh my fucking god!”

He runs into the lounge and freezes instantly, his eyes widening, his mouth agape.

“Hey Steven,” You smile, standing up from the couch.

“You- uh- you…”

Your Mom, Belly and Susannah walk in shortly after, all of them stopping just as your brother had.

“(Y/n)…” Belly looks at you like you’re a piece she’s been missing, “It’s so good to see you.”

“Is this…” Laurel looks down at the boy in your arms.

“This is Kylo, my son,” You look up at her, “Your grandson.”

Her face both lifts and falls at the same time, unsure of what to say.

“Can I?” Laurel asks you, looking down at him, and back to you.

“Of course,” You hand him over, fixing his head into her arms.

Laurel gasps at the contact, smiling gently down at the boy as her eyes fill with tears.

“I’m-“ You clear your throat, no apologies, “I know it’s been a while. But a lot has changed, and I want you to be a part of his life. I want him to have his family.”

Belly steps forward and stretches her arms out to you, stepping once more to engulf you in her arms, her head burying on your shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” She whispers, sobbing a little into your neck as she tightens her grip.

You smile and hug her just as tightly back, “Me too. I’ve missed you.”

“Alright alright don’t leave me out,” Steven groans, squashing both of you in a hug of his own, towering taller than both of you now.

Belly pulls back and sniffs and you lift your hands to her cheeks, wiping her eyes.

“We’re okay, okay?” You nod at her, the same phrase you used to tell her when the two of you ever argued as kids.

Belly nods, squeezing your hands, “Okay.”

“Oh honey,” Laurel passes Kylo to Susannah who takes him with a bright smile, before your Mom turns to you, “I don’t even know what to say. I had no idea that you… I mean I didn’t even… I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

You shake your head, “It was me too. We both needed the space, right? We all did.”

She shakes her head too, “I’m just so sorry, I should’ve been there.”

You smile, “You’re here now.”

She steps forward and hugs you too, feeling so much smaller against you than she ever did before, perhaps you just feeling taller.

“You’re a Mom,” Her voice breaks against you, “I’m a Grandma.”

You chuckle and step back from her, “So much to catch you up on.”

Susannah hands Kylo over to Belly as he gets passed around to the waiting arms and she wraps you in a hug of your own, whispering something about how this family had missed you and it hadn’t been the same without you there.

But there was still one piece missing.

You sit down on the couch and Laurel and Susannah sit on either side of you. Belly, Jere and Steven all sit on the coffee table across from you as if they can’t possibly be too far away from you.

“I can’t believe you’re back in Cousins,” Belly smiles, “This is surreal.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, it’s weird. I just couldn’t miss watching Jere graduate.”

He grins, “I’m just glad you accepted the offer.”

Belly passes Kylo over to Steven who holds him as if he’s the most fragile object in the world.

You laugh a little at the sight, pulling out your phone and snapping a photo of the pair. You’d send it to Carmen later - a little sign of ‘hey, my family haven’t completely disowned me’.

“Okay, I have to ask the questions,” Laurel squeezes your arm, “How did this happen?”

“Well, Kylo was born about two months ago. I was dating a boy called Carmen in my first year of college, possibly the nicest guy ever but we realised we were better as friends. And a bit later I found out I was pregnant. He was there the whole time, don’t worry, and we’re surprisingly really good at co-parenting,” You explain, “I know it’s not conventional but, god, I think I was made to be a Mom.”

Steven laughs, “Yeah you got that from raising us three idiots,” He glances to Jere and Belly.

You grin. You’d never considered that when you were growing up. That mothering those three, losing so much of your childhood. It was setting you up for this. For mothering your own child, for bringing him up in your own way.

“He’s a pretty chill baby too,” You comment, “Like sleeps through the night, only wakes up once for a bottle. He even sits into some of my classes.”

“You’re still carrying on with college?” Laurel looks at you slightly shocked.

“Of course, I’ll just graduate with a toddler on my hip,” You beam down at your son in Steven’s arms, “I don’t need to lose my life because I’m taking care of him.”

Laurel looks at you with tears in her eyes before dropping her head to rest on your shoulder, like she’s trying to keep as close to you as she can. You don’t tense under her touch.

———

Later in the day, Jere, Belly and Steven have gone to the store for supplies and Susannah is setting up some bits for Jere’s graduation.

“Hey, do you need any help with anything?” You ask Laurel as she walks into the kitchen, “Kylo’s just had his bottle so I’m free if you need me to help.”

He’s strapped in a wrap to your chest napping against you.

“Oh god no you relax, we don’t need you to help,” Laurel encourages, “Sit down or something.”

“Come on Mom, I can help. What do you want me to do?”

She looks at you and sighs, “I think I spent 18 years asking you to do far too much, maybe I need to be making up for that.”

You clear your throat, “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“I know, I know it’s not,” She shakes her head, “I just… I don’t even feel like you’re my daughter anymore. You’re so grown up, it’s like… you’re too much of an adult to be mine.”

You nod, “Yeah, well, a lot changed.”

“I hate that things got to the point where you felt you had to leave. I mean, I know everything happened with Belly and Conrad but I was just as much to blame, wasn’t I?”

You run your hand over the wrap across your chest where Kylo lay, “I never got a chance to be a kid, Mom. Not properly. It felt like my whole life Id been running one step ahead of them all so that I could catch them before they fell, shaping my whole life around making sure that they were in line and okay and that I was doing enough for you and for them but also making sure my whole life was perfect so that you weren’t disappointed and… it was draining.”

Laurel looks at you with a pained expression, her shoulders dropping with the weight of realisation.

“I went to college to get away from every shitty feeling that all of that gave me. I got away to finally be my own person, for once in my life just think about me,” You smile, “And it was good for me. I healed. I went to a therapist, I cried, I figured out my shit. I’m a different person now but I’ll always be your daughter. And I want Kylo to have his grandma.”

“I want that too,” Laurel beams, “(Y/n) I… I know I never know how to say these things but I’m so proud of you, honestly.”

Before you can respond, the front door clicks open and your head whips around quickly, expectant of who could be walking through.

“He’s at work,” Laurel comforts you, “He’ll be back tonight.”

“I-“

“I’m still your Mom, I know these things.”

You laugh in response as the other three all come into the kitchen, carrying bags of groceries.

“Oooh here Kylo I got you a present,” Steven rummages through the bags to find what he was looking for and eventually pulls out a small brown teddy bear, “Just securing my spot as favourite uncle.”

You grin, taking the bear, “Thank you Uncle Steven.”

“Oooh, we’ve got the beer in the trunk,” Jeremiah reminds him.

“Shit, yeah, we’ll be right back!” Steven says and both of them hurry back out.

“Beer?” You raise your brows at Belly.

She laughs, looking down at the bags, “Yeah, Steven managed to get a fake.”

“Of course he did,” You shake your head, “Want some help unpacking?”

“No, no, I got it,” She encourages, “You’ve got your hands full.”

You wiggle both of your hands in front of her, “The perks of this thing is that both of my hands are free, Bels. Don’t tread on eggshells around me, honestly.”

“Okay, this one is light,” She pushes one bag towards you.

Both of you potter about in silence putting away their food and it’s as if neither of you wants to break the comfortable quiet. This was the most time you’d spent together in two years, and you felt like strangers to each other.

“So, how’s everything going with you?” You ask her, turning back to the kitchen island.

“I’m good,” She nods, “I’m not…” Belly clears her throat, “I’m not seeing anyone.”

You laugh, “Did you not know how to tell me?”

She smiles and hits your arm, “It’s awkward, okay?”

You chuckle at your sister, somehow catching such a glimpse of yourself in her expression.

“We actually… me and Conrad… we ended things not long after you left,” Belly clears her throat, “It was for the best.”

“Bels I didn’t…”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t because of you. I just think Conrad never really knew what he wanted, and maybe I didn’t either. I thought I was in love with that boy since I could remember, but I don’t think that was love. It was just the idea of him.”

You nod, “Well, younger Belly would probably thank you for figuring that out. But, tell me, is there anyone new on the scene?”

Before she can respond, the boys come tumbling in the front door again and you watch her eyes follow Jeremiah as he moves towards you both. There’s a brightness in them, one you’d only seen in your own when you were with Conrad. That was the feeling she was looking for.

“Jeremiah?!” You mouth to her and Belly widens her eyes at you in warning to not say anything more.

You raise your hands in surrender but give her a somewhat approving look, one that makes her cheeks ignite.

This was a pocket of home that you’d missed. One you didn’t realise you needed. Your siblings, this house, your family. It would always be important to you. And something about it felt even more magical now that you got to experience it with Kylo.

———

You find yourself focused on the sound of the door as if you can wish it to come sooner. Though you’re not sure why. You want to see him but you have no idea what to say to him. You have so much to tell him but you’re not even sure he’ll want to see you. Did he still hate you? Had he ever hated you? Would he hate you for not being here, for leaving?

You busy yourself with fixing the blanket in Kylo’s car seat. Jere and Steven had just gone to collect your stuff from the hotel - you’d agreed to stay at the house now.

And then it goes.

The sound of keys in the door, the door closing behind a familiar pair of feet. Rushed steps up the stairs, a left turn until they’re coming towards you.

And then your bedroom door opens, and a single figure stands in the doorway, slightly breathless.

“I saw your car on the drive.”

You stop in your tracks, the car seat behind your legs.

“I saw your car in the drive and I-“ Conrad begins again, “You’re home.”

You don’t have a chance to respond as he strides over and hugs you as if you’re a lifeline. His head buries into you and his arms around you as if he’s been needing you for years. His eyes are closed against you and you feel him inhale as if your presence had knocked every breath from his lungs.

And for a moment you’re frozen.

Until your arms kick into gear and they throw themselves around him too, holding him just as tight like you’re the only things holding each other up.

You feel him shift against you, that sort of shocked pause.

“(Y/n)…” His voice is quiet as he pulls away from you, “Is this…”

You step to the side to let him go past you as Conrad crouches down to the floor, his whole body cautious.

“This is Kylo.”

“Kylo,” Conrad grins, “You always said that’s the name you wanted for a boy. Do you remember? When we went to the boardwalk and there was that name on the-“

“The leaderboard for the go karts,” You grin, “I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I can’t believe you did too, you stuck to your word,” He smiles, talking softly as if he doesn’t want to disturb the tiny bundle looking up at him.

Conrad’s fingers are at either side of the car seat and Kylo reaches up to grip onto his thumb. Con laughs like a sort of gasp, as if it is choked in his throat.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” He half-whispers the words and you’re not sure at first if it’s to you or to the boy in front of him.

But you settle on it being both.

Conrad looks back at you and breaks into an even wider grin, standing back up, “Can you just… tell me everything.”

He sits himself down on your bed and you sit down beside him. And this is it. This the final bit of home you were waiting on.

You and Conrad. Him and you. The piece you’d been waiting for.

———

The following morning, you’re up early with Kylo. You carry him downstairs and go about fixing up a bottle for him, the two of you resting on the couch whilst he drinks.

There’s a text from Carmen on your phone.

Hope they don’t hate you too much x

You shoot back a quick response of reassurance and send him a photo of Kylo smiling at you from last night.

Just as Kylo finishes his bottle, there’s a sound from the stairs creaking as someone comes down.

“Morning,” It’s Conrad, dragging a hand over his eyes as he does.

“Hey,” You return softly, “Why are you up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” He grumbles, still in a half asleep state.

He drops down onto the couch next to you and smiles at Kylo, reaching out a finger to tickle his chest.

“Hey, could you do me a favor?” You ask him, “I need to change his diaper but the bag’s upstairs.”

“Yeah sure, what’s it look like?”

“It’s a black one, not the one with the handle but with the straps, and it’s like-“ You pause as you notice him watching you more and more confused, blinking at your explanation, “Okay, I’ll get the bag. Can you just watch him for a second?”

“That’s much easier,” Conrad grins and shifts on the couch so that he can hold the baby in his arms.

You stand up and head towards the door, hurrying upstairs to find the bag.

When you come back down, Conrad has Kylo stretched across his legs, his little feet hitting Conrad’s stomach and his head resting against his knees. He’s smiling down at him and Kylo grins tiredly up, giggling when Conrad tickles under his arms.

“You’re a natural,” You grin, coming down to sit beside him.

He looks up at you and raises his brows, “You think?”

“Well, he seems to like you,” You point out, not wanting to disturb the moment between them.

Conrad wiggles his hands beneath Kylo’s head and lifts him up, looking at you, “Where do you want me to put him?”

You snap back into reality, “Oh, right, yeah I’ve got a mat.”

He lowers the baby down onto it and then looks at you like he’s awaiting further instruction, “Come on, tell me what to do.”

“You want to change his diaper?” You laugh, “I can do it.”

“I’ve never done one before. I want to learn.”

“Alright, here,” You hand him over the wipes and a fresh diaper.

He’s far too slow when he starts and Kylo starts to wriggle on the mat, impatient of course.

“Does this thing not stay still?” Conrad grumbles, tongue between his lips as he concentrates on the task, his face grimacing just a little at the state of the dirty diaper.

“Put that one in here,” You hold out a diaper bag for him to dispose of it, “Alright, now wipe and new diaper. But make sure he’s covered - he’s a boy so that stuff can go everywhere.”

Conrad’s eyes widen as he takes your instruction, fixing the new diaper on - just a little wonky.

“There we go, fresh as a daisy,” He grins proudly at his accomplishment, “I think I could be pretty good at this.”

“Well that’s task two - making him laugh being task one,” You nod, “Not bad, Fisher.”

He lifts him back up onto the couch and lays him down beside you, Conrad sitting on the floor just in front of him like he’s already prepared to catch him.

He lets Kylo grab at the end of his hoodie, laughing at him before he turns to you.

“So, how does it all work? Are you… with someone?”

You shake your head, “We split up before I found out I was pregnant. But we’re really good friends, so it works. He helps out a lot.”

Conrad nods, “Well that sounds healthy.”

“What can I say? I’m mature now,” You joke.

“I think you always were,” He scoffs, “Especially compared to the rest of us.”

Both of you fall silent again and Kylo fills the space by gargling in some form of baby talk.

“What about you?” You clear your throat, drawing your legs to your chest on the couch, “Are you seeing anyone Mr Stanford?”

He scoffs, looking down at his hands, “No, no, I think I needed to stay away from all that for a little while. Clear my head.”

“And did you find anything in that clarity?” You taunt, yearning for the same connection the two of you had so long ago.

He looks at you for a second and pauses, “I guess I finally figured out what I want.”

For a brief moment you’re drawn to him, something in those eyes and that voice. But you tear yourself away.

“Well I’m glad the break was worth it,” You smile, looking away from him, “Sometimes that’s all that you need.”

You look down at your son and feel the same swell of pride you had when they first handed him to you in the delivery room. The same realisation that this was it now - this was everything.

“You know this place changed when you left,” Conrad comments, “And it’s changed again now you’re back.”

“Yeah, well, I always had that effect,” You wiggle your brows jokingly, lifting Kylo up from the couch to rest him on your lap.

Conrad pushes himself up to sit on the couch beside you and both of you fall silent in the seemingly empty house. He watches you with Kylo and is sure for a second that he’s looking at someone else. But it’s you. The one that was always made for this.

“I’m sorry if I-“

You both speak at the same time and look at each other with hints of smiles.

“You first,” Conrad encourages.

You take a deep breath, “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t be with Belly. She told me you guys ended things not long after and I just hate thinking that I was… I don’t know, that I ruined things,” You shake your head, “I know it was forever ago.”

“You didnt ruin anything. Me and Belly… we… I think I always knew that she liked me. And I just, I hated the thought of breaking her heart. Like it would be my fault if I didn’t feel the same. And that night, I don’t know what it was, I just convinced myself that I could feel the same as she did,” He takes a deep breath too, like both of you are fighting for air against tightened chests, “But we’re must better as friends, we both know that. And I’d never… I never did… feel that way about her. I was just confused.”

You nod, “Now you go.”

“I’n sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough,” Conrad exhales, “Because I know that’s how you felt, and I never ever wanted you to think like that.”

“Con…”

“Im serious (Y/n),” He shifts in his seat so that he’s facing you properly, “I was younger and naive and I knew that I liked you and I just… suppressed it. Because I knew if I started anything with you then I’d want that to be it, and I wasn’t ready for you to break my heart.”

You laugh a little, your eyes pricking just slightly with tears, “You think I’m a heartbreaker, Fisher?”

Conrad smiles, his cheeks flushed a little, his muscles visibly relaxed from what they were. He’d missed this. You, the way you knew him, the way you read him. He’d missed it all.

———

“We’ll watch him, you can go and shower,” Belly assures you, “And I’ll make sure Steven doesn’t do anything stupid.”

You’d spent the day in and around the pool with Belly, Steven and Jeremiah whilst Conrad had gone to work. They’d bought a float for Kylo at the store and were all impatient to use it - taking a thousand photos of him with his hat on laying back in the float.

“Alright, well just shout me if there’s anything,” You encourage, “I’ll just use-“

“(Y/n),” Steven says in a calm tone, “Relax, we’ve got him, I promise.”

You nod and step off of the lounger you’d been on, walking around the side of the house to where the outdoor shower still stood.

This place. It held memories you’d wanted to forget.

Before you step in, your phone starts ringing and you glance down to see Carmen’s contact on your screen, you accept the call and press the speaker button on your phone.

“Hey (y/l/n), how’s it going?” He says as soon as you pick up.

“It’s going well, yeah,” You turn back around to the garden where Belly was holding Kylo in her arms, “They’re all so excited to meet him.”

“Do they know about his super cool, super helpful, super present Dad yet?” Carmen taunts.

“They do,” You chuckle into the microphone, “They’re glad I haven’t been doing it on my own.”

“Yeah, well, they would’ve known that if they tried-“

“Carmen,” You sigh, “Less hating them, yeah? It’s going well.”

“Okay, you’re right, but I’m still not their biggest fans,” He comments, “What about the long lost love of your life?”

“Oh my god will you stop?” You widen your eyes at his words.

“Come on, I know that’s who you were most nervous to see,” He returns, “How’s it been? Do you still… you know, feel that way about him?”

“I-“ You glance down at the exact spot you’d been stood in two years ago, when you’d told Conrad the truth, “It’s Conrad, you know? He makes me laugh and he listens to me and he feels like… it feels like the piece of me that I’ve been missing.”

Carmen laughs, “And I’m guessing you haven’t told him that.”

“I already ruined things with that boy once, I can’t do it again.”

“Ruin things? (Y/l/n) I think you’d be telling him what he’s been waiting to hear for two years.”

Before you can say anything, the sound of a twig snapping behind you makes you jump from your thoughts and you turn around to see Conrad stood just metres from you.

“Um, Carmen, I have to go,” You stumble over your words into the microphone, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wear protection!” He yells down the phone before you hang up, your cheeks flushing bright red as you look back at Conrad.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Conrad mumbles, scratching at the back of his neck, “I just got back from work.”

“Right, yeah, of course, how- how was it?”

“Good,” Conrad nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I didn’t mean to listen in, or anything. I just… I don’t even normally walk this way, I don’t know why I did but I thought I could hear people and so I thought maybe you were outside, not that I was looking for you, but well I was-“

“Con,” You interrupt, “It’s okay.”

He smiles, taking a second to breathe, “That was Carmen?”

You look down at your phone in your hand, “Yeah, just calling to check how I’m getting on. It’s the first time he’s been away from Kylo too.”

Conrad nods in understanding, “Yeah, of course, I bet that’s weird for him.”

“Yeah I don’t think I could ever leave Ky now, it’s a parent thing, I guess,” You scratch at a patch on your arm as the nerves seem to overtake you, “I should probably… you know, I need to shower before tonight and I-“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you get on,” Conrad raises his hands and goes to step past you as you step into the booth of the shower.

You don’t make any move after that, thinking of every single thing you could’ve just said to him. How two years ago every word came to you all at once and, now, you can’t find a single right word to say. You feel your bottom lip tremble just slightly at the thought of everything you could’ve just told him but you shake it off.

“Hey, (Y/n),” Conrad’s voice speaks from the exact spot you’d just left him in, “What did he want you to tell me?”

You feel every bone in your body freeze at those words, practically sending a shiver down your spine. Your hands go numb, your eyes glazing over, your throat seemingly closing off any words.

As you turn around back to the entrance of the shower, there he is. Stood on the path with a look of hope in his eyes that you thought you’d never see again from Conrad.

“What did he want you to say?” He persists, eyes burning into you.

You exhale deeply, the tension in your shoulders dropping as if you’ve lost hope, “That I never should’ve walked away from you that night. And I hate myself every day for not fighting for you more, for not standing there and telling you that I’d wait for you. I’d wait for you in every life if that’s what it took for you to realise that you loved me. And I know I shouldn’t and I know it’s different now because I have a son and that’s complicated and you don’t have to want that or feel like you have to-“

He strides forward then, his hands coming up to cup either side of your face, his lips crashing into yours as if they’re returning home for the first time in forever. It’s messy and rushed and heated but neither of you care, both relaxing into a feeling you never thought you’d feel. Your hands grip at the material of his t-shirt like you’re convincing yourself that he’s real. And he is. It’s all real.

Your lips pull away first, rushing to catch every ounce of breath that had just been knocked from your lungs.

“I’d wait for you, (y/n). In this life, the next and the next after that, I’d wait for you too,” Conrad confirms, his eyes searching in both of yours, “This is it, okay? This is what I want, it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

You let out a laugh, somewhere verging on a sob as every emotion of every missed day seems to come out of you, “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

Conrad smiles, his hand moving to your chin to pull you into his lips once more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that,” He mumbles just millimetres from your lips.

“I think I have some idea,” You return with a smile, kissing him quickly.

This was it. In this life, the next one and the one after that - this was where you could be truly happy.

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