#but the car seems more like a goodbye album… not even about breaking up… just goodbye which is very…. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

astarryeyedlady · 2 years

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| crazy little thing |

part 1

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: this crush thing is pretty new for the two of you, so now you're going to learn how to make it work.

warning: no beta.

word count: 3.7k.

*********

you gave a ride to eddie munson and now you're kinda dating.

well, dating might be a strong word for what you actually are - or aren't - considering it's been less then 24 hours since you drove him home with the promise of giving him a ride in the morning too, as his van had been abandoned in the school's parking lot.

and, as promised, he has pestered you with questions for the whole duration of the ride - as if he had them all bottled up inside him, waiting for the perfect chance to spill out.

you had no idea eddie munson was this curious about you.

he started off small, immediately after giving you his address - as if you didn't know where your crush lived - shooting one question after the other, barely breathing in between, hungry for knowledge.

your birthday, how many siblings you have, your favourite subjects - because even if you're doing okay in maths he knows you don't like it, you don't have the same absorbed expression you get in english lit when you work with numbers - your favourite musician, oh you don't have one? then maybe he can let you borrow some of his favourite albums...

you could barely slip in your own questions, because if he's hungry then you're positively starved, but he just diverts them with a wave of his hand and a "nah, nothing interesting about me - you're the true mystery, sweetheart."

you thought your crush couldn't get any worse, but eddie was quickly proving you wrong.

he was horribly curious about the whens and hows and whys you started crushing on him, and looked totally appalled by the fact that you couldn't pinpoint the exact second it happened with scientific accuracy. and why was that so important, anyway?

"because i know when it started for me!" he blurts out, thumping dramatically against the headrest.

you almost stop the car, hating that you're having this conversation without being able to look at him.

"oh?"

"yeah", he groans, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "it's that time we sat together at the cafeteria."

"what?" your eyes widen as you calculate that mentally, trying to remember. "but... that's... before the summer?"

"mmh." his voice takes a faraway tone, as he lingers on the memory. "a week after spring break. my whole hellfire team was at home with measles - lucky for me i had it when i was a kid. anyway i was sitting all alone, playing with whatever stuff the kitchen was passing off as meat... and then- boom! you appear next to me and ask if you can sit. i mean- no one ever sits at the hellfire table, besides the hellfire club? and you usually stood clear of me, so i was understandably wary. but you thanked me really softly, sitting - not on the opposite side of the table, which was empty anyway, but next to me? like, right at my left. your legs bumped against mine under the table! and even if you kept your eyes on your tray - man, i couldn't help but watch you. think it was the first time i actually saw you up close, you know? and you were - cute. and soft. even the way you ate, calmly and silently, trying to hide the grimace because that meat really sucked... i don't know. it got to me. and- and you smelled so good!"

he sighs, feeling suddenly shy in the silence of the car. "you even said goodbye to me before leaving. you even smiled - even though it looked forced and tense, but you did. you came, ate next to me, said maybe no more than five words and left again... and i couldn't stop thinking about you. and then, in september, you ended up in my classes... man. suddenly it didn't seem that bad to repeat the year."

you have stopped the car in the middle of the road and you barely even noticed it, completely enthralled by eddie's retelling of a moment that, to be fair, you had almost forgotten - you actually forced yourself to, as you try not to remember the moments when you made a fool of yourself (because, really? sitting next to eddie munson out of nowhere, and not even talking to the guy? it was just another fail in a long list of them, and that scene had haunted you for weeks until you had managed to hypnotize your brain into erasing it from your memories). you didn't even think he would take notice of you, nor remember it months - seasons - later.

instead, eddie remembers it perfectly down to what you were eating that day. how could you compete?

"that was incredibly sweet", you murmur eventually, fragile, voice half-broken.

the noise of the rain and the wipers working tirelessly to clean the glass almost drowned your words, but eddie hears you anyway, leaning across the gear shift and resting his warm palm against your knee. he calls your name softly until you turn to look at him, blushing furiously and lashes wet from holding back tears, then he smiles.

"you have no idea how long i've waited to be sweet to you", he tells you serenely, as if that wasn't the most romantic thing you've ever heard.

you blink, a bit shaken, then sniff and start the car once again. "you really are dangerous, eddie munson", you exhale with a tremble, all your nerves focused on the sensation of his hand firmly gripping your knee.

if you hadn't personally lived through it, you would barely believe that it had been you who confessed first - anyone else would have thought the opposite after such a speech from him. your head was empty, his words repeating on a loop - your throat dry, your hands clammy. and you've talked with the guy for what, a couple of hours? god. where had he been hiding this smooth personality of his?

eddie seems content enough to let you simmer in what he said, because for a while he lets you being lulled by the rain and the low music coming from the radio. but then you clear your voice, somewhat recovered, and he starts back with his questions from where he left off.

"so, you know how to change tires?" he did ask at some point once you moved past the more sentimental stuff; he looked completely at ease, curled on the passenger seat fully turned towards you, half-sitting on his bent leg and balancing with an arm pressed against the dashboard and the other behind the headrest of your seat. it's like he didn't want to stop watching you now that he knew he wouldn't have passed off as a creep.

"eh, i just said i would have helped you do it", you point out, half-shrugging.

he snorts a laugh. "meaning?"

"well, i would have passed you the wrench or something. cheering from the sidelines, you know."

eddie gasps loudly, dramatically leaning his head against the window with a soft thud. "so it was just an excuse to talk to me? man, you're sooo adorable-"

you swear your cheeks hurt from blushing so often. "shut up or i'll drop you here."

"nah, you wouldn't leave poor old me all alone in the rain..." you can feel him smiling even without taking your eyes off the road.

and now you're driving again towards his trailer, twenty minutes before your concorded time to meet because you've been up since before the sky started to lighten, too nervous to sleep; and if what happened yesterday was just a lucid dream you made up, at least you wouldn't be late for school.

you stop next to an old car, probably his uncle's, and shut off the ignition before resting your hands and head on the wheel. should you get out and knock at his door? what if he's changed his mind? or if he was still sleeping? god, or if he thought you ridiculous for being this freaking early?

this is the first time you're dealing with a potential boyfriend, and you're both so eager and terrified that you don't know what to do with yourself.

still, you don't regret that burst of courage that made you come up to him - especially since it gave you the chance to actually learn what he thinks about you. nervousness isn't the only reason why you woke up early - you actually barely slept at all, lying wide awake on your bed mulling over everything he said, running through every interaction from when you first started to notice him 'til now, recalling the feeling of his hands holding yours - of his mouth nibbling on your fingers.

god! you didn't dream all of it, right? it actually happened?

just when your thoughts are starting to turn mushy, a sudden, brusque rapping on the glass of your window makes you jump and curse loudly, but when you turn to glare at whoever decided to scare the crap out of you this early in the morning - you deflate, surprised, seeing eddie on the other side of the door.

but then you gasp in horror and get out of the car, jumping on the gravel of the yard. "my god, eddie, it's november- what are you doing?"

the young man grins unrepentantly, naked from the waist up and wearing only black jeans and his boots - and half of his faced is caked with shaving foam, some of it dripping on his tattooed chest.

"morning, sweetheart", he greets you instead, ignoring the goosebumps forming on his skin. "i'd kiss you, but i don't wanna get you dirty."

you shake your head, stunned. "go. inside. before you catch pneumonia!" you press your hands against his shoulders and try to push him towards the trailer. "i'm not going to disappear if you take the time to get dressed!"

eddie points a finger at you, trying to look stern. "don't leave. give me ten- no! five minutes! less than five! and i'll be right back, babe, okay?"

he waits for you to nod before turning and scrambling up the ladders and back again inside his house, a tornado of a man.

you slump against your car, huffing an incredulous laughter.

- - - -

the ride to school goes almost exactly like the day before, except this time you feel a tad less embarrassed and a bit more at ease - probably also thanks to the eyeful you got of him that morning, which was a lovely way to start the day.

not that you have given him the attention he deserved, as you were much more worried for the blatant disregard of his own health to truly appreciate the way his jeans hung low on his waist, carelessly showing off the dark happy trail slithering down from his navel, or the sharp line of the hipbones, the cool ink blossoming on his pale skin in various shapes and images-

mmh. maybe you did pay attention.

come on, girl, you told him you like him yesterday, maybe give it a couple more days before showing him your lustful side? be. a. gentlewoman.

besides, if he died of pneumonia all of your fantasies would die with him, so - guess it's up to you to keep the guy alive from now on.

yet eddie was just so adorably blasè by the whole thing that you couldn't even scold him.

i just saw your car in the driveway and couldn't resist! he said as if that was reason enough to come outside half naked to greet you. was the first time a cute little lady came to pick me up.

well, what could you say to that?

it's amazing how quickly the two of you seem to have slipped into this new dynamic, so you're kinda worried that the other shoe is not far from dropping - but still, everything is so new and soft and easy that the only thing you want to do is close your eyes, relax and let eddie drag you wherever he wants.

metaphorically - he's still without a car.

as you get close to school, however, his mood seems to shift slightly and he fidgets on the seat - fingers drumming nervously against his leg.

"hey, babe-" he clears his throat, "-you should drop me off around here, i think."

you're half distracted by the music on the radio and it takes you a while to grasp his meaning, but when you do you throw him a glance from the corner of your eye - man, he does look pretty nervous.

you decide to nip that particular behaviour in the bud.

"mh, how so?" you keep on driving, carefully casual, slowing down as you enter the school parking lot even though eddie is trying to lower himself on the seat - as if anyone could miss that amazing head of his.

"babe..." he turns to you, lips pressed in a worried frown. "you know it."

your fingers tighten around the wheel. "eddie", you start, speaking calmly but firmly. "i'm not about to pretend i don't like you or that we're not going out just to protect the delicate sensibilities of the popular crowd."

you keep driving until you see his van, empty spots on both of its sides because people are dicks, and park your car right next to his. then you turn off the ignition and twist to look at him, serious.

eddie looks concerned but also somewhat endeared, so you sigh and offer him your hand - which he grasps without a second thought.

"is that what you were trying to do?" you ask him gently, squeezing his fingers.

"mmh-" he squeezes you in return, the rigid set of his shoulders softening noticeably. "i suppose- i just lost some nerve once we reached the school. it- it just..."

"felt more real all of a sudden?"

he raises his eyes to look at you, nodding grateful. "yeah. sorry."

you can't help but laugh a bit. "who's the one apologizing, now? it's okay, eddie - i get it." you inhale deeply, thinking. "so- what do you want to do?"

he replies immediately, leaning towards you and clinging on your hand for dear life. "i want to go out with you."

"okay then, rockstar." it's your turn to smack a kiss on the back of his hand, watching him beam warmly. "let's go."

you let go of his hand to slip outside the car, shouldering your bag and waiting for eddie to come out too so you can lock it. he straightens immediately, hands on his hips as he takes a look around his van only to note that yes, his tire is still completely deflated and looks even worse than yesterday.

you come up to him, patting him softly on the back. "so, what are you gonna do about that?"

"i asked wayne", he sighs, crossing his arms. "he said he'll call the workshop later this morning and have them come here to change the tire. sucks because i don't have the money to pay him back now, though."

you hum, your pats becoming slow drags of your hand in circular motions. you feel him loosen up a bit, so you continue. "it's not as if you're using the money to buy shit, eddie. i'm sure your uncle is happy to help you - just as i am to give you a ride. 'kay?"

he smiles down at you, head tilted almost shily. "yeah, i know", he murmurs.

there's suddenly something charged in the air as you two look at each other, hidden from the rest of the people crowding the parking lot by the tall form of his van; your heart seems to lodge in the back of your throat as you observe his eyes roving your face and - falling on your suddenly dry lips. instinct makes you wet them with the tip of your tongue and you don't miss the way his breath hitches, and oh my god is this really happening? his hand is grabbing the back of your coat to pull you more into him, making you inhale the sharp, alluring scent of his aftershave, and-

"eddie!"

you both jump as if electrocuted, eddie groaning when he recognizes the happy voice greeting him loudly.

you turn in time to see a couple of familiar faces sauntering your way - the new, shiny recruits of eddie's hellfire club. you recognize them mostly because one of them is nancy wheeler's brother and the other is little erica's, and by exclusion the one in a baseball cap is dustin henderson.

"your kids are here, munson", you tease him, smirking at his long suffering groan.

they surround the both of you, exchanging quick greetings - dustin is the one who first notices the ripped tire of eddie's van, and he immediately drags the older guy into an heated discussion.

lucas elbows you, still not entirely conscious of his recently gained strenght. "haven't seen you in a while, baby", he smirks, making even the young wheeler roll his eyes.

you groan just as eddie splutters, cutting short his discussion with dustin and turning towards you. "baby?"

"i babysit his sister and sometimes he's there too", you roll your eyes, amused by his over dramatic reaction. "he thinks he's cute just because he's suddenly taller than me. what have we said about that, kid?"

"that i'm a hundred years too young to call you baby", he replies dutifully, a well memorized mantra. "still can call you bee, though."

"whatever makes you feel cool, sinclair."

eddie casually drapes an arm around your shoulders, pressing you against his side in a smooth movement that makes butterflies flutter wildly inside your stomach. "behave yourself, ranger."

the younger boy blinks, perplexed, finally noticing something's unusual between the two of you. "okay, what... what's going on?"

"we've decided to go out and we're late for class, so," you push past the kids briskly, eddie right behind you clinging to your coat with his free hand, and ignore dustin's shrill "what?!"

"you didn't tell me you were also friends with the freshmen, babe", your newly appointed boyfriend pokes at you, curious. "is there anyone you're not friends with? or did you charm the whole school?"

you snort, blushing a bit. "dork. there's plenty of people i don't like. plus lucas' little sister is a friend of mine, they're in class together and have a lot of sleepovers, so i guess i've seen him around more often."

"damn", he mutters under his breath. "there's still so much i don't know about you."

"good. keeps the relationship fresh", you smirk, letting him walk you to your locker.

he doesn't look convinced, so you elbow him gently to make him look at you. "hey, we've literally just started talking. you thought i hated you until yesterday! as far as i'm concerned, it's already an enormous step to say we're dating when this is the second time we're spending time together - and we're in school, too, so that kinda doesn't count. let's take it easy, mh? you don't have to cram every kind of random infos about me all in one morning."

eddie groans, pressing his forehead against the cold metal of the locker next to yours. "it just feels like i've wasted enough time. i want us to just- jump ahead and be already one of those silly, solid cute couples without the whole slow courting and dancing around each other and wondering if the other likes you too."

you can't help but smile fondly. "but what if i told you i like the courting thing?"

"oh?" he perks up, eyebrows so high they're hidden by his curly bangs. "i knew it - you're a romantic!"

"i don't know if i'm a romantic or if i simply like the idea of you courting me", you admit, thoughtful. "we kinda already skipped a few steps with that hurried confession- maybe we should take it slow?"

he presses his hand against your stomach, gently pushing you back against your locker. your heart kinda does a somersault at that. "babe. any slower and i. will. die", he deadpans, terribly serious.

"and besides-", you swallow with some difficulty, delicately tickling his side and making him twitch. "-what couple? you haven't even kissed me yet."

eddie grabs your evil hand, brown eyes sparkling. "easily remediable, sweetheart! here, let me..."

he leans into you, eager like a puppy - but right when he closes his eyes in anticipation you press your free hand over his mouth, giggling.

"not gonna let you kiss me in the school hallway for the first time, munson," you half chide, half tease.

he whines shamelessly behind your hand, lips moving temptingly against your palm. "but baaaabeeee..."

you love how he basically hasn't called you anything but pet-names since yesterday - it kinda makes you think that he had to physically restrain himself from doing so before you went and told him about your crush.

the sharp ring of the bell interrupts your banter, and eddie throws an annoyed glance at his watch. "dammit. there's no chance to convince you to skip it, right?"

"nope", you smile at him, moving away from your locker. "you need to set a good example for your freshmen minions, babe."

"no need for that! they're already better than me. they're all tiny little geniuses, i swear."

you snort. "that doesn't exactly work in your favour?"

"but what am i supposed to do without you?" he ignores you, hugging his metal lunch box. "it's gonna be sooo boring. i have to sit next to chance lockwood and that guy smells like he showers with his daddy's cologne."

"it's only an hour, then we have maths together right after", you console him, easily ignoring the weird glances people are starting to throw your way. "besides, i can tell you something to keep you busy in the meantime."

"mmh?" his eyes sparkle, intrigued.

you stop at the feet of the staircase where your paths split up and you signal him to move closer to your height, until your lips can reach his ear.

"i lied to you yesterday", you whisper, smiling at the way his breath hitches. "i remember when i started to crush on you."

then you step back and jump on the stairs, smirking, avoiding his hand trying to make a grab for you.

"you can't drop that on me and then leave!" he complains, pouting pitifully.

your laugh haunts him for the whole time you're not by his side. "see you later, rockstar!"

********

tagging: @amatchinwater <3

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #mine*#(guys i'm loving this little blurb. maybe i'll write more <3)

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indiee19 · 3 years

Text

In My Room

Alex Turner x reader

Summary: You meet (TAOTU!) Alex at a pub in Berlin, and he takes you back to his hotel room.

warnings: smut, fingering, hint of oral sex (f! receiving)

word count: 3330

A/n: part 2, anyone?

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

The bartender gave you your third drink of the night, taking away the empty beer bottle that was in front of you. You were by no means drunk, knowing how to control your alcohol, but you were slightly tipsy, a faint buzz would be how you would describe it.

You didn't come to the pub to get drunk anyways, just wanted a break from everything that was going on in your life at the moment.

"Excuse me, but ... is this seat taken?" a man asked. You turned around to answer him. You were about to tell him yes, that the seat was taken, even though it wasn't, but you didn't. Instead you answered, "No, it's not."

Earlier on in the night, you'd been asked that question a lot, and every time you said that it was taken, but there was something about the boy that had asked you. He was calm, polite, and most importantly, he didn't call you random names unlike the other guys that asked you earlier. And apart from all that, he was cute and you couldn't deny that.

"I'm ... I'm Alex, by the way," he said, holding out his hand for you to shake. You took his hand and introduced yourself. He repeated your name, the sound of him saying it music to your ears. "That's a really pretty name," Alex stated.

You blushed at his compliment. "Thank you, Alex," you said.

"You're welcome, love," Alex said. He ordered his drink, taking it slowly. In the back of your mind you knew that you recognized him, but couldn't quite put your finger on where you knew him from.

"So, what do you do for a living?" you questioned, slowly drinking your beer just like Alex was, in the back of your mind you wanted to go home with him so you didn't want to be drunk, though you kept telling yourself that it wouldn't happen.

"I'm in a band. Well, two actually," he answered, taking a swig of his drink. Then, it hit you. You knew him from Arctic Monkeys, he was the lead singer and you realized that you also knew him from The Last Shadow Puppets and knew that they were touring here in Berlin for their album The Age Of The Understatement.

"Wait, you're Alex Turner, from Arctic Monkeys and The Last Shadow Puppets, right?" you asked. Alex nodded in response and you screamed internally. The lead singer of your favourite band was making conversation with you. And knowing that he sang only made him seem more cute to you than before.

"Not to be one of those pesky fan girls, but I just wanted to say that I love your music," you said. He put down his drink. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it," he replied, turning towards you and smiled.

Your face flushed and you looked away, looking down at your drink. All of a sudden, you felt someone tap on your shoulder and turned around. When you turned around, there was a clearly very drunk man.

"You here alone?" the man slurred, leaning on the counter. You tried to think of an excuse to say, but every time you tried to speak, you just stumbled over your words.

"No, she's not. She's here with me," Alex said, wrapping an arm around you, pretending like you were together.

"O-okay. Let me know if you want to ditch him though," the man said and walked away. You turned to Alex.

"Thank you, Alex. You have no idea how much it means to me," you thanked him, finishing off your drink.

"It's alright, love," he said, finishing off his drink as well, except his was a lot more full than yours was. "Do you ... do you want to come back to me 'otel room and chat there?"

"Y-yeah, sure. I'd love to," you said. He smiled and the both of you got up from your seats at the bar. You reached into your bag for your wallet, about to pay off your tab, then Alex stopped you from paying.

"I got it, love," Alex said and got out his wallet, paying for you and him. Alex payed and put his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the pub.

He flagged down a taxi cab and opened the door for you, getting in after you and he told the driver where his hotel was.

The ride was mostly quiet, the silence leaving when you asked Alex a question. "Why'd you pay my tab for me?" you asked after a few minutes of silence, fiddling with your fingers.

"Well, I payed your tab because-" he stopped when the driver stopped the car at Alex's hotel. He got out and waited for you to exit the cab before talking to the driver.

"Danke, dass du uns abgesetzt hast. Wie viel schulde ich dir?" Alex asked, speaking perfect German.

"Vierzig Euro," the driver said. Alex got out his wallet and paid the driver. He drove off and Alex walked to the door where you were.

"I didn't know you could speak German," you said.

"Not many people do. I learned it from me mum," he replied, placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you inside.

He walked you to the elevator, pressing the call button. Once the doors opened, he let you get inside first, walking in after you and pressing the fifth floor button. You both stood there in silence, like it was in the taxi, not awkward silence, but silence, like you didn't know what to say.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. You both walked out and Alex led you to his room. You were almost there when someone stopped you. You immediately recognized him. It was Miles Kane.

"Hey, Al," Miles said, hugging Alex. "Who's this beauty that you've got with you?"

You smiled and introduced yourself. Miles took your hand and gave it a light kiss, making you laugh. Alex looked at you and smiled to himself, his face lighting up and his heart fluttering when he saw you laugh. He felt as if the heavens were humming a stun gun lullaby.

"What a charmer you are, Miles," you laughed.

"Oh, please, call me Mi," he said.

"Okay. What a charmer you are, Mi," you repeated. You all chatted for a bit, talked about about things. Like how long they were going to be on tour, how they met, and if they had plans to release another album. As you talked, they kept goofing around. Sometimes Miles would put Alex in a headlock, or Alex would play with Miles's hair. It wasn't in a weird way, it was more in a brotherly way and you found that adorable.

You thought that you three would chat for the entire night in the hallway and you wouldn't mind that but Miles unfortunately had to leave.

"Alright, I won't keep you two for any longer," Miles said, hugging you and Alex goodbye, lightly kissing your cheek. "I hope to see you again, love."

You returned the statement and and said the same thing back to him. You started walking down the hall, stopping and turning around when Alex didn't catch up to you. You saw Miles whispering something in his ear and slipping something into the pocket of his pants.

Alex looked down at the ground and said something back to him. You tried to read their lips and got something along the lines of, "Mi, you and I both know that won't happen, even as much as I want it to," from Alex, though you couldn't be sure since you weren't very good at it and they were quite a few feet away.

Miles winked at Alex and walked away, Alex walked towards you.

"Sorry about that, love," he said, leading you to his hotel room. Room 521. He pulled his keycard out of his wallet and unlocked the door, allowing you to go in first.

The room was beautiful. Wine in a bucket full of ice, a small lounge off to the side and a large bed in the center of the main room, the bathroom across the lounge.

"Make yourself comfortable," Alex said, putting his wallet down on the small table by the door, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and his lighter, walking out to the balcony and you followed after putting your handbag down beside his wallet.

He opened the pack, taking out a cigarettes and lighting it. "You want one?" he asked. You shook your head and Alex nodded, closing the pack and putting it and the lighter down on the small table. He took a long drag from it, taking the cigarette in between two of his fingers, blowing the smoke out of his mouth away from you.

You walked back inside and sat down on the bed, looking around the room. It was a few minutes before Alex came back inside the room, taking his time with his smoke, thinking. He eventually finished his smoke and flicked it off the balcony, grabbing his lighter and putting it in the pack of cigarettes, walking back in and putting the pack on the table with his wallet and your bag.

Alex came and sat down beside you, turning on the lamp beside the bed.

"You want anything to drink?" he asked.

"No thanks, Alex," you replied. He nodded. Alex was about to say something but stopped himself. He got up and went to the small fridge in the corner of the main room. He got out a small bottle of whiskey and opened it, pouring it in a small shotglass. He downed the whole thing in one swig, putting the whiskey back in the fridge and putting the shotglass down.

He didn't do it to show off, he did it regain some of the confidence that he had earlier when he asked you to come back to his hotel room. He walked back over to the bed, sitting back down beside you.

You went to say something but before you could Alex kissed you deeply, using the whiskey he'd just downed as confidence. Though, he pulled away when you didn't kiss back.

"I-I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't 'ave, should I?" he said. You smiled and kissed him before he could say anything else. You kissing him took Alex back for a second, but he quickly kissed you back. He bit your bottom lip teasingly, demanding for entrance into your mouth and you complied, his tongue easily fighting yours into submission.

His tongue explored your mouth, he tasted like the whiskey he had, the beer had drank at the pub, and a cigarette that he'd smoked just a few minutes ago. He cupped your face with his hands, your arms going around his neck.

Alex pulled you over to him, situating you in his lap. You pulled away to breath, pushing a small piece of hair out of Alex's face. "Thought I had made a mistake there," he laughed, his hands rubbing up your thighs.

"Well, I promise that you didn't. It just took me by surprise," you said. He smiled and kissed you again, working his way down to your jaw. He flipped you so that he was on top and you were on bottom. He kissed down your neck, settling on your sweet spot.

He pulled away tugging on your shirt, you sat up a little, Alex helping you pull your shirt over your head. Alex pulled your bra down so that your tits spilled over it, dipping his head down, wasting no time to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, one of his hands fondling your other breast.

Alex took his time with his kisses, switching over to your other breast when he saw fit. He started to kiss down your chest, stopping just before your jeans. He looked up at you. "Can I take these off, love?"

You nodded eagerly, watching him smirk and begin to undo your jeans. You lifted you hips so that Alex could pull them off of you, throwing them to the floor as well as removing your panties.

Alex kissed up the insides of your thighs, stopping below your dripping wet heat, sucking on a spot on your thighs below your core. "Alex, please," you said, locking eyes with him once he looked up.

"As you wish," he smirked, pushed your legs apart and pluton eon your legs over his shoulder, immediately dipping his head down to your core. His tongue lapped at your folds, coming into contact with your clit, pressing down on it. Your hands moved to his hair, tugging on it. His fingers went to your entrance, circling it, spreading your arousal around.

He pushed two of his fingers inside your dripping wet cunt, curling and twisting them. You moaned loudly in response, pulling on his hair harder, a moan falling from his lips which sent vibrations up your body.

Alex sat up, using his free and to wipe his face that was now slick with your arousal. He started to pump his fingers in and out of you at a pace of his own liking, watching the expressions on your face that was caused by the pleasure that he was giving you.

You started rolling your hips onto his hand, desperate for more friction, the slow, teasing pace he had set not nearly enough for you. Alex's thumb coming in contact with your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles on it.

You kept rolling your hips, trying to get his fingers to pump in and out of you at a faster pace.

"Yes, baby, make yourself feel good on me fingers," he hissed, stopping the movements of his fingers, letting you grind your hips on him, allowing you to set a pace of your liking.

You rolled your hips faster, your moans filling the room. Alex moved to be sat over you, kissing your neck again, sucking on your sweet spot.

You felt yourself getting closer to your orgasm, hands finding their way back into Alex's hair, pulling on it more.

Alex pressed his thumb down on your clit harshly, curling his fingers deep inside you, sending you spiraling. You pulled on his hair as the waves of pleasure washed over you. You felt as if you were on cloud nine.

You came down from your high, ceasing the movements of your hips, whimpering when Alex removed his fingers from you. Alex sat up and removed his shirt, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. He reached into the pocket if his pants, pulling out a condom. He climbed back over you, straddling your hips.

He ripped open the silver packet and rolled the condom onto his length, giving his cock a few pumps, positioning his cock at your entrance, his tip teasing your folds, his cock being coated with your arousal.

"Alex, please, I need you," you whined. He smirked and jolted his hips forward, sinking inside you in one swift push. He gave you very little time to adjust to his size before he started to move. He moved slowly, going at the same pace his fingers were before.

You rolled your hips onto him again, the small amount of friction that he was giving you not nearly enough.

"Look at you, trying fuck yourself on me," he laughed, grabbing your hips to keep them still and began to speed his thrusts up and your eyes shut automatically. He leaned down, his arms holding him up above you. Alex delivered a particularly hard thrust and then stop, your eyes opening, searching for his.

"I want you to look at me, okay," he said and you nodded, he started his thrusts again, the pace gradually increasing. You already found it hard to keep your eyes open even though he had just started to begin thrusting into you again.

You grabbed Alex's biceps, moaning louder and louder with each thrust. You couldn't remember the last time you felt this good, and you didn't think that someone had ever made you feel this good before now.

Alex thrusted hard into you, his cock hitting that spongey spot that made you see stars. "Do that again, Alex," you said, your voice trailing off into a moan when Alex repeated the motion.

"That?" he teased, stilling for a moment. You nodded eagerly, moaning loudly once again when he repeated the motion for a third time.

You felt a knot grow in the pit of your stomach, your orgasm approaching quickly. One of Alex's hands left from beside your head to go to your clit, rubbing on it in sync with with his thrusts.

"God, Alex, I-I'm so close," you whimpered, bringing your hands into his hair. Alex's head fell on your shoulder, kissing your neck, sucking on your sweet spot, starting a hickey. Alex delivered a very hard thrust and simultaneously pressed down on your clit which tipped you over the edge.

You pulled on his hair, eyes rolling back into your head, back arching off the bed into Alex. The feeling of your walls contracting around Alex's cock was enough to trigger Alex's own orgasm. His hot release coating the inside of the condom, biting down on your neck.

Alex kept moving his hips, riding out both of your orgasms. Alex stilled his movements after you both came down from your highs. You let go of his hair, smoothing it down.

"Wow," you panted.

"Yeah, wow," Alex said, raising his head from your neck and kissing you lightly. He used his remaining strength to pull out of you and walk to the bathroom, disposing the condom. While he was gone you gathered yourself and began to grab your clothes. You fixed your bra and then Alex came back out of the bathroom.

"What're you doing?" he asked, getting a pair of boxers out of his bag and putting them on, starting to pick up his clothes and throwing them by his bag.

"I was ... I was just getting dressed so I could leave," you said.

"Y-you don't have to leave. I-I mean, if you don't want to," he said, his voice cracking mid sentence. He seemed much more shy now, the alcohol that fueled his confidence wearing off.

"Are you sure because I can leave-" he cut you off by kissing you deeply, much like before. He pulled away after a minute to speak.

"Stay, please, unless you really want to leave," he said, cupping your cheeks. "Okay," you replied, putting your clothes down. He smiled and your heart melted. He was so adorable.

He pulled back the duvet and sheets on the bed and you got in, Alex followed and you cuddled up to him. You raised your leg to go over his, whining a little when his skin rubbed up against your clit, still sensitive to even the smallest contact.

"You want a pair of me boxers to sleep in?" he asked, raising up slightly.

"Yes, please. If you don't mind," you replied. He got up and went to his bag, getting out a pair of his grey boxers, walking back to you, handing you them.

"Thank you, Alex," you said, moving the duvet back, sliding the boxers on. He climbed back into bed and kissed you. You nuzzled into his chest and he kissed the top of your head.

"Alex," you said. He looked at you and asked, "What is it, love?"

You looked back up at him, locking eyes with him. "What were you and Miles talking about?" you asked.

"He said that I'm very lucky to 'ave you and said that he hopes that I 'get some' tonight and gave me the condom," he laughed. You laughed as well and he turned off the lamp, kissing the top of your head.

He fell asleep first, his little snores lulling you to sleep a few minutes after him.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #jamie cook #matt helders #alex turner arctic monkeys #alex turner smut #smut #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #taotu era #taotu #miles kane #the last shadow puppets

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maybe-your-left · 3 years

Note

ASK FRIDAY - CREATE A SCENARIO: roommates trope with Kylo

Due to some last minute room swapping and late registering Reader and Kylo end up in the same dorm but they're mad about it and hate each other (cue intense sexual tension)

Dorm room, Snowed in, evening time like 6

The heater/power has just gone out and Kylo knows a few ways to get warm...only if Readers up for it...

been working on this for FOREVER ANON.

I loved it!

Crushed

TW: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes, exhibitionism, kinda fluff, Kylos not that nice and is an entitled man.

Oh yeah, you fuckin’ slut.

Yes-Yes-Yes!

‘M gonna cum all over your fucking tits.

You slapped the wall next to your bed, hard.

“Can you guys keep it down! It’s 1 in the morning!”

Muffled voices came through the paper-thin wall, sounding like bodies moving to the floor. Good, you thought, at least he will get rug burn from the shitty carpet, might keep him from fucking everything that moves.

A hard knock on the wall pulled you from that thought.

“Go read your fucking Bible! I’m trying to get my dick wet!”

“Please!”

“Why don’t you go get fucked!?”

Some giggled came through next, followed by more muffled whispering. You whined loudly, trying to ignore the sounds of him fucking whatever bimbo your dormmate had in his lair. Shoving your face into your pillow, muffling your tears and wails.

You turned on your TV, drowning out the final act of his performance. Fingers poised over your keyboard to file another noise complaint with the RA… not like they ever helped you. The last time they intervened they left with a black eye and broken nose, shrugging for you to sort it out yourselves.

A door slammed shut, you let out a sigh of relief.

At least he wasn’t a cuddler.

You climbed out of bed, tip-toeing to your door to take a peek of whatever slut found her way into his room this evening. The special lady was a new cinderella every fucking week, he didn’t even try to know their names. You heard him admit it once in class to his friends, saying he called them all ‘baby’ so he wouldn’t have to learn.

You peeked out the door, blinking from the harsh fluorescent lighting of your dingy dorm halls. The walls were a screaming white, yellowing from years of shoddy cleaning. You tried to clean your room when you first came to school, but it was too disgusting.

A non-smoking dorm, ha. Everyone smoked, especially your neighbor.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed creeper?”

You jumped at his voice, exhaling harshly through your nose. You steeled your features, caught red-handed looking for his latest prey. Crossing your arms defensively, not that there was anything to hide. You were in your ratty pj’s, they were on sale at Old Navy a few years ago and you never threw them away even though they barely fit anymore.

“If you’re so interested in being a cuck,” he grinned at you, flashing his crooked teeth, “I would love to have you over for an encore, I’m sure you’d love to watch me in action.”

“Buzz off, Ren.”

“Ooo, angry tonight,” he smirked, now stepping out of his door frame. You choked a little at his appearance, no shirt on, basketball shorts barely hanging off his hips. Dangerously low, seriously, if he took one wrong move they would be on the floor. His chest was covered in fresh scratch marks, no doubt from his latest victim, a sheen of sweat glistening under the lights.

Fuck, he was good-looking.

But he was terrible.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat, daring you to stare back at him.

You gulped, caught again. You were better than that, you were just tired from being kept up since ten with his version of ‘love-making’.

“My eyes are up here cupcake,” he stepped forward. Pushing you back into your doorframe, almost inside your sanctuary. “If you ever decide you want to break your vow of chastity, I’m right next door.”

“Step away from me, Kylo.”

He cocked his brow, “I love when you’re mean, come on. Let’s see if kitty has claws.”

You bared your teeth, fists balling under your underarms, “Not even if you were the last man on Earth.”

He shrugged, backing away from you.

“Deal, bitch.”

You moved to shut your door on him, “Go away.”

“See you in class, bright and early.”

------

When you imagined leaving for college, it was different.

Saying goodbye to your parents, packing your car with whatever small valuables you owned. Determined to make a name for yourself all the way across the country, no friends or family, truly on your own. You imagined everything would be different, the dorm would be filled with new and friendly faces.

RA’s greeting you as you parked outside, giving you a tour and maybe a group lunch with all your floormates. Getting to know each other, maybe even going to some new-student orientation event they planned for the newbies.

Classes were smooth, acing all your major requirements. Professors were kind and ready to help you at any moment, letting your artistic vision flow through your body every morning with your 8 AM yoga class.

But no.

Instead, you registered late.

Your classes all at the worst times, bright and early.

Second rate dorm, COED even… smelly dudes between your single bedroom which would be better defined as a broom closet. Burping and fucking on both sides of you while you tried to study. Your major requirement classes were boring and filled with pretentious art students who thought they were the next Picasso.

Professors didn’t care if you lived or died, only focusing on the bell schedule because they couldn’t control what the freshmen did in their classes.

Your options for clubs were limited, either join a sport or a cult.

And worst of all.

Kylo Ren.

He was your neighbor, signed up late just like you. You actually arrived at the same time, he pushed you down on your ass in the lobby so he could be checked in first. Calling you a clumsy bitch, only for you both to be handed keys to the same floor. Right next to each other, sharing a flimsy wall.

On top of that, he was an art major like you.

And since he registered late, he was in almost every class.

Even yoga!

He took your mat the first day, leaving you in tears in the hallway. He apologized afterward, handing it back to you before storming off to be with his beefy upper-class friends. Any moment he could, Ren would humiliate you. Trying to push your buttons, whistling at you when you had to cross the hallway to the showers. Tripping you when you had your hands full, making fun of you for hanging out with your sparse group of friends.

And when he found out you were annoyed with him making noise, he latched onto it.

One week he decided to recite the entire Phantom of the Opera, just because you mentioned in class that you loved that play.

He did every part, even the musical scores, you could’ve sworn he did it with a megaphone on the wall, just to spite you.

Your parents told you ‘he just likes you, he’s a boy.’

No!

That’s not how people express feelings, at least not healthy people.

Your alarm clock blared on your nightstand, you didn’t sleep so it didn’t bother you. Letting out a heavy sigh of defeat, Ren ruined another night for you, a night you’d never get back. Of precious, precious sleep that you desperately deserved.

Slipping on some plum leggings and a sports bra. No one gave a fuck about your outfit in your early morning class, as long as you went with clothes on. You popped on your headphones, trying to drone out the noise of Ren’s music through the wall. He liked to blast some god-awful music every morning.

Today, it was an old Black Veil Brides album!

You made it out of the dining hall, snatching a muffin for breakfast. Smiling at some guys you knew, waving at your friend Rose as you stormed off to the gym. The cold chill of Winter biting at your nose, it was too cold to not wear a full outfit. But there was no time, with Ren keeping you up all night and classes back to back, you didn’t have time to fuck around with dressing up.

Ren ran in after you, laughing with his friends. Big nose all red from the frost, his hair looked frozen to his scalp, probably showered beforehand. You rolled out your mat, trying to stretch while he bragged about the pussy he got last night. Making a big show of your complaining, saying you were desperate to fuck him based on your whining.

You rolled your eyes when he planted next to you, “Good morning, you ran out in a hurry.”

“I didn’t want to be late,” you sneered, not giving him the time of day, still stretching your back into child's-pose.

“How are we supposed to walk together if you run away from me, cupcake?”

You scoffed, shooting him an icy glare. Despite him grinning at you like the happiest man on Earth, god, you needed to stop giving him a reaction. That would shut him up if you didn’t give him the attention he is clearly lacking from his parental figures.

“Good morning class,” your teacher greeted you calmly, “I hope you’re all doing well. As you all know, this next week is finals week, I’m offering makeup classes to those of you who need to make up some credit hours. We are also hosting some meditation if you need time to relax between classes.”

Next to you, Ren leaned towards your mat, setting his hand right behind your back. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was hovering. Ready to devour you like a piece of meat.

“Hey,” he chuckled.

You stayed quiet, pushing back into his arm so he would move. Ren stayed put, purring in your ear, “Did you sleep well?”

“Move off my mat, Ren.”

He smirked down at you, “You seem stressed, do you want me to help by fucking your brains out.”

You shot off your mat, effectively knocking him onto his back. Laughing loudly in a relatively silent room of students trying to center themselves. He grinned from the floor, hands up in the air in defense, “I’m just offering to help you, Jesus!”

“Just,” you pointed in his face, hair falling out of your ponytail. Everyone was staring at you, even your instructor. Shocked you were yelling, you barely spoke in class, at the scariest person in your class.

“Just, leave me alone.”

------

Ren avoided you for the rest of the week, mostly.

Still had his nightly fuck-more subdued though, you had on noise-canceling headphones to try and focus on studying. There were still so many classes to get to, and you wouldn’t be finished until the day before Winter break… you were desperate to get this over with.

You missed your family, the plane ticket itself cost you a whole month of meals.

Of course, you would do fine in your classes, it was just the motivation to get there. Every morning you glared at Ren when he greeted you in yoga, still standing next to you like a menacing shadow.

This morning was no different, only you skipped class to study in the library. Bundled up in your winter coat, long black scarf, hair in a lazy braid, and thermal leggings on. The wind had picked up last night, bringing on an ice storm that wasn’t expected until late next week. You walked on treacherous sidewalks, dodging all the other students who were seeking the warmth of the library.

You settled inside, sprawling your books and laptop on an old desk. Grabbing out a few sketch pads so you could finish up some pieces that were due in a couple hours. Most of your finals in art were ‘unconventional’ which meant the professor wanted to see what you were motivated to work on during the year.

For yours, you had decided to draw the people you saw on campus.

Studying their faces, mannerisms, languages while they were in an organic environment. It was a great piece, and one of your professors was very interested in showcasing it in a show. You were proud, it wasn’t large but it was important for you and you wanted it to be perfect before turning it in.

Your pastels were spread out, fingertips smudged and stained from charcoal, a few lines on your face and brow from forgetting about the streaks. There was this one person you couldn’t finish, it was one of your friends from last week. She was laughing and holding a drink, the expression wide and full of emotion but it was hard for you to capture without her being there.

But you steeled yourself, you weren’t leaving this spot until you finished her.

“You smudged that dude's face,” a low voice rumbled behind you. A finger pointing down at the top left corner, “Stop-don’t touch it.”

You moved to swat the hand away, not wanting some random guy to ruin your piece with their grubby fingers. Recentering yourself, he wasn’t smudged, he was just in the corner so it looked like it wasn’t finished… what did he know, anyway?

“You didn’t draw me?”

Now you stopped, why you didn’t recognize the timbre of his voice was ridiculous.

You let out a long sigh, “Please, don’t touch the canvas, Kylo. It’s not ready, yet.”

The chair that housed your backpack slid out next to you, your things tossed on the ground carelessly before Ren sat. You scooted away from him, he smelled like he just showered. Judging by his wet hair you were probably right… “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, fiddling with one of your notebooks. Flipping through pages carelessly, “I don’t know-you weren’t in yoga so.”

“So,” you gave him a weird look, “You stalked me to the library?”

“There’s no reason to go to yoga if I can’t bother you,” he flashed a smile, dropping it slightly when he saw you weren’t playing back with him.

Silence fell over you both, the only noises the heat kicking in around the scuffling of boots and shoes to face the weather again.

“I like your piece,” he gestured to your work, “For drawing, right?”

You nodded stiffly, not enjoying his friendly tone. Like he wasn’t your demon neighbor who made it his job to annoy you and had for the past four months of your life. Ren shifted again, now leaning on the table with his cheek resting on his forearm. Looking at you with wide eyes, you never took the time to look at his face.

He had very large eyes that betrayed his emotions. Swimming with flecks of auburn, gold, and some streaks of green, blinking slowly as he studied your canvas. You looked away from him, trying to ignore the urge to draw them, how his long lashes rivaled your own. How his skin was freckled with beauty marks, creases from frowning lined his forehead and nose. You could even make out his stubble, some pieces he must’ve missed the last time he shaved.

You went back to drawing, no longer focusing on it. Just trying to understand what was happening, your tormentor was a foot away from you. Breathing calmly like a cat laying in a patch of sun. Hunched over the edge, torso too long to rest like a normally proportioned human being, had he always been this big?

“Wanna get coffee before class?”

“Huh?”

You blinked slowly, not registering that he spoke to you.

Ren leaned off, letting out a big yawn and scratching the back of his neck.

Yes, definitely a cat.

“Do you want to get coffee,” he stared blankly, “Before we head to English?”

You looked down at your mess, then back up at him. Shaking your head softly, voice quiet as a mouse, “No-thank you.”

He exhaled harshly, “I’m not gonna burn you with it, it’s just coffee.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said firmer, “I wanna work on this some more.”

Ren stayed still, probably trying to think of a way to get you to agree with him. You had known him long enough to know he doesn’t like people disagreeing with him. Didn’t have to be a college graduate to see that the man had issues with control, hence terrorizing you all semester. You didn’t want to offer him an olive branch, because he was just doing it as a joke. Probably, waiting until you were calm around him to do something cruel.

You went back to drawing, listening to him get up and leave you. Mumbling something under his breath about ‘trying to be nice’ before walking out. You shook off the awkwardness, not willing to break down and let him do something nice for you, just because he didn’t ruin your final piece didn’t mean he wouldn’t do something in the future.

The day was still young.

------

Oddly enough, Ren didn’t bother you that evening.

Not even a door slam!

You almost thought he was dead, but you saw him in the hallway when you were walking to the bathroom. Wrapped in your robe, caddy in hand, he didn’t whistle or try to touch your ass like he normally did. Just a stale smile before closing himself back in his room.

Not to waste the precious quiet, you went to work packing your bags for your trip tomorrow. Deciding to do a quick load of laundry, your hall was almost empty, so no one would be down there while you waited.

Piling up your hamper, you threw your pj's and slippers on. Remembering to grab a blanket and your laptop so you could hang out down there while you waited.

Your friends back home were all excited to see you, ready to hear all about your time away. The boys you met, friends you made, classes, all that. So excited to get home and see your cat, Gremlin, he was all alone without you. Your mom sent you pictures earlier of him curled in your blankets, saying that he knew you were coming home soon.

Maybe next Fall you could get an apartment, you didn’t want to leave him for another year.

A washing machine door slammed shut next to you, causing you to jump from your perch atop your own. Faced with Ren, who was doing his laundry in his pjs, or his version of pjs. Giving you another tight-lipped smile before leaning against the far wall. Yawning loudly before sliding down the wall to sit on the floor.

You ignored him, turning back to your laptop that was playing a crime documentary. Texting some friends to keep your mind from wandering to Ren and why he was in such a mood.

“Are you leaving tomorrow?” Ren called from his wall.

You pretended to not hear him, refocusing on the documentary, there was something very interesting happening and you weren’t about to miss how they found the killer's shoe prints in the mud just because Ren was trying to talk to you.

Then something was thrown at you, and it smelled awful.

“Oh-my-god!”

You shot off the washing machine, throwing down the offending garment. Ren was laughing loudly, “Chill out! It was just an old shirt!”

“How old was it?!”

He smiled at you from the ground, propping an elbow on his kneecap. One leg stretched out on the tile, you tried to regain a sense of calm, he was just messing with you again. Just take some deep breaths… in-out-in

“Are you leaving tomorrow, after our final?”

You let out your deep breath, sitting back on the washer. “Yeah,” you paused your show since mister meanie wanted to have a tea party. “I have to get to the airport right after.”

He hummed, “Same.”

The washer beeped loudly, echoing in the otherwise empty room. Ren watched you hop off, fixing your shorts which definitely rode up too much. Trying to not flash him your underwear as you bent to move your clothes to a dryer. You cursed when a sock fell from your pile, great.

“How come we’ve never fucked?”

Now all your clothes were on the floor.

Along with Ren, who was staring at you like you were an art exhibit.

You dragged your clothes back to the washer. There was no way you were finishing now that they touched the dirty floor, no one cleaned down here and just because it looked clean didn’t mean-

A whistle, “You good over there?”

“Yup.”

“Okay,” you heard him stretch, popping his joints as he lifted off the floor. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he closed in. Almost touching you, no escape, “As I was saying, how come you’ve never let me steal your virginity?”

You scoffed, “I am not a virgin.”

Ren pressed into you, pushing you against the washer now. Grinding his hips into your own, you squirmed, trying to dispel every fantasy flooding your brain. Every night you spent listening to him through the wall, imagining just once that it was you. If he weren’t such a monster, you would have gladly laid on your back and let him do whatever he wanted.

“Nothing?”

You took a deep breath, placing both palms on the top of the washer. Biting your lip as you silently pleaded for him to let you go, but also continue. You could smell his cologne from this close, how it complimented him so well. Mixing in with his dark aura, you wanted nothing more than to spin around and…

Soon you were doing just that, but not on your own violation.

Ren had his hands grasping your hips, thumbs slipping under the fabric of your t-shirt to caress your soft skin. Lips capturing your own, you froze in his hold. Unsure of what to do, a part of you wanted to scream and smack him, but the other part loved the smell of his toothpaste.

He relaxed when you relaxed, your lips still awkwardly locked together. Not opening and allowing for more, but not moving away either. You stared at him, startled to see him looking back at you. Pulling back slightly, you watched his face chase yours. Bringing your lips together a few more times, kissing at the seam.

You felt his tongue flick for entry, trying to pry your mouth open so he could explore. When you didn’t move he finally huffed in annoyance, “I know it’s your first kiss, but you’re supposed to open your mouth.”

You groaned, bringing both hands to cradle his cheeks. There was no way he was going to make fun of you, he initiated this so.

Ren made a muffled noise when you pressed your lips back together. Probably of shock and surprise, because, no. This was not your first kiss, not even your fourth or fifth kiss. Working your tongue skillfully into his mouth, you moaned softly at his taste. Just like you imagined… not that you put much stock into this but… it was wonderful.

Bringing your fingers to the nape of his neck, tugging on his dark brown hair. Just like you always wanted to, whenever he walked past you with it tied in a bun you dreamt of tearing through it. Ren returned your affection in kind, his left hand moving to the small of your back. Fingers dancing under the waistband of your pajama bottoms.

You heard him swear when he felt the lace underneath, nestled between your cheeks. Ren slid a hand over the globes of your ass, moving his hips in time with his tongue. Tasting every inch of your mouth, even growling in approval when you sunk your teeth into his bottom lip.

Petting and groping each other against the washing machines, the sound of you swapping spit barely heard over the rumble of your clothes. Ren had gotten sick of grinding against your hip bone, pulling away from you for a moment. Shushing your pathetic whimpers, he hooked the hand not cupping your ass behind your left knee.

Hiking it over his hip, opening your legs up. Allowing him to assault your center with his straining erection, oh you could picture it now. How easy it would be to just let him slip inside you.

Right here, in the laundry room.

*Beep*

You pulled back roughly, barely able to unsuction your lips from Rens' own. A string of spit connecting your kiss-bitten lips, he looked at you with pleading eyes. Grinding himself against you harder, pulling a few soft mewls from your throat.

“I need to switch my clothes,” you croaked.

He nodded, shakily setting your limb back on the floor and backing away. You watched through your own lust-filled state as he trembled. Walking back to his far wall, a hand cupping his cock through his sweats. Your throat clicked as you took in a much-needed breath, doing what you said you would.

Setting them in the dryer, all the more aware of his eyes watching your every move.

Not sparing him a glance when you sat back on the washer.

Turning on your laptop once again to watch your crime documentary.

Ignoring the throbbing between your legs, his deep breaths, and your shaking limbs.

------

The TV’s at the airport all said the same thing, “Record snowfall this winter, right before the holidays! Experts say that we will be lucky to keep power until it passes. Our friends on the west coast are enjoying a white Christmas, while we’re stuck in the North Pole.”

All flights have been grounded until further notice.

Stuck.

You could barely make it back to your dorm without crashing.

Bursting into tears several times when you realized you wouldn’t be home until it was over. Wouldn't be able to safely leave your dorm room until it passed, leaving you utterly alone.

You had emailed your RA letting him know your bad luck, he let the staff know you’d be there so they would have food and water running still.

But other than that, this was your holiday.

You slipped on the walk up to your room, sobbing loudly in the halls as you clutched your luggage. No going home, no seeing your friends or family, no Christmas dinner, no personal shower, no Gremlin to sleep on your face.

Collapsing on your bed, curling yourself in the multitude of pillows and blankets that adorned it. The room had shitty heating, the entire building had shitty heating. The entire month of December you’d been freezing, and no amount of personal heaters could fix this kind of cold.

You drifted off to sleep after crying for a few hours, letting your parents know what was happening. Setting alerts for earlier flights, anything you could do to get home. You were so tired in fact, that you slept through a power outage. Leaving the entire building to shut down, no backup generators.

And no heat.

It wasn’t until you felt yourself being lifted that you woke up to the commotion.

Squirming in the kidnappers' arms, limbs aching from freezing for a time in your bedroom. The window must’ve cracked open because it was much colder than when you arrived. Your attacker didn’t let you go, growling in your ear to be still.

Dragging you out of the building, towards a car you didn’t notice when you pulled in. With the snow swirling all around, it was a miracle they could see their own vehicle. You were thrown in the front seat, followed by your luggage tossed in the back. You stayed still, every time you moved it hurt, hypothermia. Common in the New England storms if you were foolish enough to be outside…

You about passed out when the driver's side door opened, Ren climbed in. Looking just as frozen as you, slamming the door shut and mumbling something as he started his car. You could’ve cried when the engine turned, heat blasting between the both of you.

“Hands,” his teeth chattered, holding his own out. He nodded for you to do the same, grasping your pink fingers between his own and blowing on them. “Power went out,” Ren took a shallow breath, “I was leaving and I saw your car. You were almost frozen to your bed, the window broke.”

“Th-thank you-u-u.”

Ren cringed at your fingers, slowly gaining back their normal color. “I tried to grab everything I could, like your backpack and luggage. But we can’t stay there, we’ll fucking freeze.”

You nodded, tugging your hands away to curl into your chest. Thankful that Ren had enough sense to grab blankets, stuffing them in your lap from the backseat. You thought about grabbing your phone, but you could barely make a fist so it would do you no good.

“My plane g-g-got ground-d-ed.”

Ren shivered, nodding sharply, “Mine too, my mom got me a hotel room not far from here to stay until the storm passes. So, I’m taking us there.”

“Okay.”

You didn’t say anything else, not wanting to distract him from the treacherous roads. Thank god he had a Jeep, or else you would’ve died. You couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, less than that when you were on the highway out of the city.

Ren kept mumbling things like it’s okay, I’m sorry, I know it's cold, whenever you shivered and took in sharp breaths. You must’ve been out for a while, to get this bad. A quick look at the clock in his car said you’d been asleep for three hours, who knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t noticed your car…

He helped you out, more carried you, towards the check-in desk. Too worried you would pass out in the car if he left you for too long, the front desk lady was quick and sweet. Making sure to send up extra blankets and pillows to your suite. Ren had you walk up with him, so he wouldn’t have to carry you and the luggage on separate trips.

You clutched his hand like a child, tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. But he was so warm, it’s all you could think about. All you wanted was to be warm, nodding blindly to whatever Ren said to do.

Plug your phone in, check.

Let him talk to your mom, check.

Draw a bath for you, check.

Climb in the bath with you, double-check.

It wasn’t until you were defrosted in the clawfoot tub that you realized you were naked with him.

Rens chest against your back, holding you like his life depended on it. Judging by his shaking, you both were probably suffering from acute hypothermia. You had been silent for so long your voice spooked him a little, “Thank you.”

He hummed into your hair, which was sitting on top of your head in a messy bun. “Are you okay?”

You nodded slowly, “Can we go lay down?”

“Yeah,” Ren hastily got out of the tub, draining it and wrapping you in plush towels. You were still too cold to blush from your nakedness, not how you pictured this going. You imagined you would finally give into him on some drunken party night, barely remembering his reaction to seeing you nude.

But now he had seen you half-frozen, forced to cradle you back to life.

------

You squinted from your cocoon, greeted by a dimly lit room.

One spare lamp on a dingy-looking nightstand, well it wasn’t terrible. It was better than your nightstand in your dorm room… where was your dorm room anyway?

Something vibrated behind you, followed by a heavyweight sprawling against your back.

You held your breath, you were in a hotel.

With a stranger.

“Shit,” you whispered.

Okay, you could wiggle out of here. You took a moment to study the room, there was the lamp from before, and some curtains on a metal rod in the far corner. If you managed to get out without being detected you could knock out the assailant.

“You smell so good.”

More weight settled on you, now you were trapped. This bear was closing in, who knows what happened while you were asleep! All you could remember was falling asleep at your dorm after the upsetting trip to the airport, then being dragged away.

Your fingers burning when you tried to use them, being shoved in a car…

Kylo.

“Kylo?!”

“Mhm.”

You threw your arms up, successfully throwing him off you and the covers. Your limbs screaming at the sudden movement, you were still suffering from the cold. Next to you, curled in a ball, totally catlike, was Ren.

A sleepy smile gracing his lips, hands curled under his cheek, and legs moving towards his chest, Like a child under a blanket. You gasped when you saw he was naked, “Fuck!”

You were too.

“What the fuck, Ren!?”

“Stop yelling,” you watched his hand bat his nose like an animal, “Come back, you were warm.”

You huffed, flailing off the bed in search of your bags.

Memories flooding back to you, he took you here after saving your life.

The bath.

Ugh, bad time to remember your kiss the night before.

Ren sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and blinking slowly. You flushed red when you looked between his legs, shit. How does he walk around with that? Is that why he has bad posture? You choked on your spit when he spread his legs out.

Sprawling completely on the mattress like he wasn’t in a room with a stranger.

“Snow hasn’t stopped,” Ren yawned, snapping a hand and pointing between his legs, “Come back.”

“I’m not doing anything until you have clothes on.”

He rolled his eyes, now looking you up and down. Focusing on your bare tits, swinging around with your erratic movements. You watched him lick his lips, wagging his eyebrows, “Come on, don’t you want to sit back on the bed?”

You shook your head, crouching down to your bag. Trying to not flash him more of your goods, but that didn’t work. Not with him leaning to the side of the bed to make a show of him peeping on you.

A wolfish grin splitting his face, “You have a nice ass.”

“Can you stop,” you huffed, tugging on some sweats you found.

Ren made a pouting noise when you stood, pushing his bottom lip out while you threaded your arms through a t-shirt. You shivered a little-it was still freezing in the room. Probably from the weather, it sounded like it got worse… hopefully this place would keep power.

You looked back at the bed, Ren was still manspreading. One of his large paws crawling towards his cock, watching you with the same smirk. He let out a soft sigh when he touched himself, eyes momentarily shutting in bliss.

“Do you have to do that with me here?”

He cracked an eye open, “Do you have to be that far away?”

You scoffed, moving to the corner of the room. Shivering since you were near the window, you plopped down in the cheap armchair. Ignoring the sounds of his fist gliding along his cock, you tucked your feet under your body. Humming a tune to ignore the arousal growing between your legs, there was no way you were caving to him.

What kind of man does that with a complete stranger present!?

More importantly, why was it turning you on?

“Come here,” he whistled, you spared a glance at him. Blushing profusely at the sight, his cock was now fully erect. Standing tall and proud, tip flushed almost purple from want. You quickly looked away, trying to swallow down the drool that gathered in your mouth.

What would happen if you gave in?

Not like it would hurt you… he looked so delicious.

“If I come over there, what's gonna happen,” you whispered, determined to stay put.

With a deep breath, the mattress groaned under his weight, probably leaning back to get comfortable. He seemed to love you being there, watching him, or trying not to. Ren made a small non-committal scoff, “Whatever you want to happen, baby.”

“Don’t call me that, you know my name.”

“Meow.”

Your head snapped towards him, met with his grin. “Come on-you really want me to do this by myself?” he waved his cock, fist tight around the base. You rolled your eyes, training your eyes to focus on the least attractive part about him.

You were coming up empty, all you could stare at was his cock.

The prominent vein along the underside thrumming in time with his heartbeat. You could practically feel it along your tongue, rigid and stiff. Slowly, you stood from the chair, met with a soft whine from Ren. Eying your hungrily as you sauntered over, you planted a knee in the mattress.

Between his legs, which were spread obscenely wide, he licked his lips in anticipation.

“If I help you, are you going to be nicer to me?”

He nodded, chest taking in sharp breaths. You slowly leaned back on your heels, stripping your top off, despite him seeing you naked earlier. Surprised when he bit his bottom lip, watching you play with your tits, rolling them in the palm of your hand. Just to make him squirm a bit, “I’ll be nicer, whatever you want.”

“I’m really cold still,” you spoke softly, making sure to lean in close enough to graze his lips with your own before pulling away, “Can you help warm me up?”

“Yes,” Ren's hands shot out, kneading your flesh a few times. Debating to grasp your tits or the small of your waist, like a kid in a candy store. So many options, but you didn’t want to wait. If you were doing this, it would be about you.

“Eat me out.”

He stilled, cocking a brow, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” you exhaled on his neck, being sure to drag your kitty claws along his chest. Briefly grazing his nipples, savoring the way he gasped. “Eat me out, if you make me cum, I’ll let you fuck me. Like the desperate slut you are.”

Ren scowled for a moment, nudging your face from his neck. Eyes dancing across your face before capturing your lips, moaning softly in your mouth, “I can make you cum so hard you’ll never want another man again.”

You placed a soft kiss, rolling onto your back dramatically. Splaying your legs wide, “If that's true, why do you fuck a different girl every week?”

He growled at you, actually growled.

Hands no longer soft in their quest to memorize your skin, instead Ren pinned your legs hard enough for them to pop. Making you squeal from the stretch, “How fast do you think I can make you cum? Hm?”

Before you could answer, he dove in.

Lips wrapping around your clit and suckling fast, tongue flicking out every few seconds. You were already bucking up to meet him, but his firm hold kept you flush. While his tongue began to lap thick stripes along the seam of your pussy. Briefly hooking the tip into your entrance, both of you moaning when he tasted your wetness.

“Shit-Kylo!”

“Mm,” his voice vibrated against your clit, continuing his assault until you choked on your spit. You buried your fingers in his hair, keeping him in that right spot. “I’m so fucking close,” you cried out, pleading his name over and over and over.

“You know,” he popped off, smacking his lips that were glistening with your cum, “I’d rather you cum on my cock.”

“Wait-”

Ren flipped you onto your chest, yanking your hips into the air. You barely had time to take a breath before he shoved his cock inside you. His breath hitched as he sank to the hilt, you groaned at the stretch. Now this, this you could get used to.

He pulled out slowly, you heard him swear under his breath. Leaving just the tip of his cock inside and ramming his hips into yours. Pulling a loud scream from your lungs, Ren chuckled at that. Pumping his cock at a rough pace, “Shh-you’re going to upset our neighbors.”

You huffed, cheap shot, angling your hips a little so his cock would rub up against your front wall. Moaning when he picked up the pace, skin slapping skin. Ren leaned over your form, planting a hand on the headboard to keep it from knocking. You weakly lifted your head, clenching at the sight of his knuckles turning white.

All you could do was sit and take it, revealing in the bliss you’d denied yourself for four months.

-------

Ren dropped you both off at the airport two days later.

You spent three days together, fucking each other's brains out.

Choking on his cock while he was brushing his teeth, eating you out while you read through your newsfeed. Bouncing on his cock while he fed you breakfast, you didn’t need to change clothes the entire vacation.

But you wanted to go home and were thankful for the storm ending so you could head home. It was a little awkward, Ren wasn’t very excited about the snow stopping. It felt like he was trying to stall you leaving but reluctantly listened to your desire to fly home.

“Got everything?” he mumbled, hitching his backpack over his shoulder. The two of you were waiting in the TSA line, about to part ways to head home. You nodded, giving him a tight smile before stepping up on your own.

Ignoring the feeling of his eyes on the back of your head.

Both of you stood awkwardly after making it through, “Well-my gates over here,” you pointed behind you. Ren hummed in acknowledgment, kicking at the ground instead of looking at you.

“Thanks for letting me crash with you,” you tried again, still nothing.

You groaned, spinning on your heel. Back to being an asshole, you were kicking yourself for thinking he would be nicer. All he wanted was some pussy, and you willingly gave into him when you should’ve remained strong.

Your parents picked you up back at home, lots of tears and laughs were shared. Thankful that you made it home without freezing, your mom was grateful for your friend who saved your life. She wanted to call him and tell him how much she appreciated it but you shrugged it off, he was just being nice. He wasn’t your boyfriend or anything, you left out the part that he was the neighbor you always complained about.

Collapsing on your bed felt surreal like you would wake up and be back in the hotel room at any moment. It was odd not sleeping next to him, you had grown accustomed to his clingy arms. Circling you in the middle of the night when he thought you were dead asleep, smelling your hair before tucking you into his naked chest.

You tossed and turned all night, groaning when you were woken by your siblings to get up the next morning. Barely sleeping a wink, you resolved to take a nap later to try and not spoil your trip back home.

At breakfast, your mom yelled at you from the kitchen.

“Hey hon, someone’s calling you!”

“Just answer it,” you groaned through a mouthful of cereal. Briefly hearing your mother answer in a typical chipper tone, stalling mid-sentence before she yelled again, “It’s someone named Kyle?”

Shit, you shot to the kitchen.

Snatching the phone and escaping to the living room where no one was hiding.

“Kylo?”

Hey, didn’t think you’d answer.

“How’d you get my number?”

Took it while you were napping the other day, I knew you wouldn’t give it to me willingly.

You rolled your eyes, “Alright creeper, what’s up?”

Just wanted to talk or whatever, felt weird not to.

Silence.

Are you gonna let me buy you coffee when we are back?

“You were being serious about that?”

A scoff.

Yeah-or we could just fuck again if that’s all you want from this.

“Coffee sounds good.”

Cool. Cool.

It’s a date.

-------

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#adamdriver #adam driver #kylo ren #anon asked #create a scenerio #modern kylo ren #college kylo ren #roomates trope

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munsonenthisiast · 3 years

Text

Then & Forever

A/N: I wrote this in like five days and had my bestie edit. This is my first time writing anything, but I love Josh so-

Summary: Since you started working for GVF, you and Josh had grown close to each other over the years. This time you hope your feelings don't get in the way of ruining everything you built.

Contains: Smut, drinking, smoking, cursing

WC: 10.9k

"So you're saying that. . . you've never played an instrument before?" Sam pointed at his bass. You laughed at the question, sipping your beer. "Correct." Sam furrowed his face in confusion. "Then why do you have a degree IN music if you can't play?" Josh hit Sam on the shoulder with a pencil making a small face. You shrugged your shoulders, swishing the alcohol around your mouth. "I don't know, It's just something I've never wanted to do, you know. I guess it's one thing knowing about an instrument rather than playing it."

Everyone nodded in agreement. "Well, if you did play anything I'm sure you'd be really good at it." Josh smiled towards you. He went back to writing in his journal while everyone else went back to respectively playing their own instruments.

But for you, it seemed a long way home. Never did it cross your mind that you would basically be living with four different people from time to time. Especially not so quickly. Greta Van Fleet was your first job, and really, first anything. From high school until now, you were alone. Which made you a little grumpy when working with people, but none the less you warmed up to them quickly. Especially Josh, who always seemed attached to the hip with you.

Josh may have annoyed you a tiny bit at first, but his euphoric mind is what intrigued you in the first place. He always seemed so wise, knowing the right answer to everything. And the way he wrote the lyrics to songs, just naturally appeared to him somehow. It was truly magic.

Jake smacked you on the arm, calling for your attention. "Ok, what do you think of this." He pulled the guitar over his lap, playing the notes he came up with. You quickly wrote down the notes he played, looking out for any correction. "So what do you think?" He asked, flailing his arms around. Running your pencil down the piece of paper, you started to shake your head. "I think it sounds pretty good," you said looking at Josh, who also nodded his head in compliance. "What would also sound cool is if you gave it a little vibrato during a live show."

Jake smiled writing the commentary down on a sticky note. "You know, for not knowing how to play, you really are smart with this kind of stuff." You glared your eyes at him, snickering just a little bit. Everyone worked for a couple of more hours, before calling it a night. Danny and Sam were practically sleeping on each other.

You shook Sam awake, snatching his car keys from his hand. "We'll both be dead if you drive, and were the most important in the band. Well, besides Danny. And Jake. And Josh." You twirled the keys around your finger while Sam stretched to get awake. Josh flipped all the pages over in his journal, turning to you. "We got pretty far today, don't you think?" Josh smiled at his brothers, who were already arguing about something. "Yeah. Maybe we'll get better stuff done tomorrow, you know. This is supposed to be the 'fun' part," you said using air quotations, "but the most boring part out of everything. But maybe, in the end, it'll all be worth it." you hit Josh's arm softly.

"Are you going with Sam?" you nodded quickly. "Yeah, I kind of promised him I would help him with some stuff in the morning." Josh looked sadder than ever. You smiled at Josh, noticing Sam waiting by the door with Jake and Danny. "I'll see you later." You gave Josh a quick kiss on the head.

"Let's go." you wiggled a finger at Sam, practically dragging him to the car. The ride to Sam's house was fairly quiet other than the little snores coming from him. It was nice to get a moment or two of peace to yourself. Working and living with four grown men gave no room for privacy. Everything is shared between you all. Which you had to admit, scared you a little at first because you've always grown up with a sister and maybe a few girlfriends here and there; but you were never as close to them, then as you were to the band.

The house was quiet when you walked in, dark and dim from the night sky. Sam immediately walked to his bedroom, and passed out on his bed. Which left you alone in the kitchen. Putting some of the items away in cabinets, you looked around at all the brothers' family photos, including some of Danny. It made you smile to yourself to see some of them so young and happy. Maybe a little vulnerable too. You were a little envious of how confident some of them had been with their work, just being able to put themselves out there, accepting failure. Not you though. Failure made you angry, furious even. Sometimes it got so bad, you'd hide away for days without any contact with the outside world.

After putting all the trash away, you headed back to the spare room. You turned on all the lights, changing into some warmer clothing. Crawling under the sheets, sleep came easy that night.

When you woke up, the blinds had been left the night before causing you to shoot out of bed. Quickly rubbing your eyes, you went to the bathroom to clean up a bit. When you walked towards the kitchen, your feet padded beneath you. Sam still wasn't up, which was pretty normal. You started some coffee and cooked breakfast for the two of you. Though, something triggered you to open a forbidden drawer and bum a cigarette. Quickly lighting it, you messed around with food until it was cooked.

"A cigarette at 8 in the morning?" Sam questioned groggily, clad in just sweatpants. "Well, you know me; I only smoke when I'm forgetting something." You both said in unison. You quickly waved him off, pouring food onto a plate for both of you. "I wonder WHO you're forgetting." You scrunched your face, looking around the room. "What do you mean who?" Sam scoffed. "Josh," You quickly rolled your eyes, slamming the plate down on the table "Eat the fucking food you loser." You both contently ate in peace while making some playful banter here and there. "So what exactly do you need help with?" Sam pulled out a cigarette from the cartridge, silently lighting.

"I need help with a decision." Sam stared at you while you nodded your in question, pretending like you at least understood what he was talking about. "Look, I just want you to go with me to buy another bass, ok. And I want to go to the record store." Narrowing your eyes, you pulled the cigarette from him. "I feel like this is something completely different than what you're telling me." Sam shook his head slowly. "Nope. I still want to keep the mint-colored bass, but I just want to have a cool collection, you know. Oh, let's buy something expensive!" He pointed the smoke at you, while you collected the dishes to put in the sink. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, please. We can not go broke. Not like last time." You shuddered at the thought.

"Thanks for the food. I'm gonna get ready." You flinched your eyebrows and kept washing the dishes, putting them in the dishwasher. You quickly went back to the room for a change of clothes. By the time you were done, Sam was waiting at the door for you. Grabbing your coat and your shoes, you both headed out the door. Sam was walking coolly beside you, as you both looked around the town. Shops were lining down the small street, with cars passing through. He put his arm around your shoulder as you both passed through large crowds. Finally finding the music shop, you both walked in, heading to a certain section.

"So remind me," He paused to look at a sleek grey bass, flipping it over a couple of times. "Why don't you ever get with Josh? I mean he obviously likes you." You scoffed a little bit at his statement. "I thought we were here for you Sam, not to talk about me." You picked up a dark wood bass, showing it to Sam. "I mean with that same logic why don't I ever get with you? I mean we're close, right?" He rolled his eyes, still playing with the instrument you showed him.

"I think I like this one." Sam brought it up to the counter, talking to the girl up front. Who seemed to really enjoy the conversation they were having. Turning on your heel, you waited by the door playing with some random drum sticks. Sam eventually walked over and led you out. "It'll be delivered in a couple of weeks. I bought a whole new one." You pursed your lips smiling at Sam. "Did you also manage to snag that poor girl's number?"

Sam pushed you upside the head as you walked into the record store. You both parted ways looking at different sections. You flipped through vintage albums, picking out random ones you thought everyone would enjoy. After looking through some more, Sam found you and walked to the front to pay. "You found quite a lot there," Sam said, peeking through the ones in your hand.

"Yeah, figured I could add a bit to my very depressing collection." you chuckled, looking at one of the sleek covers. "Don't you have like two?" you glared back at Sam. "Which I believe are both of your band's albums." Sam laughed. You both paid, bags in hand.

"So what now?" you asked Sam as you both mindlessly walked around. "Probably go home. Want me to take you back?" You nodded in agreement and headed back to his car.

After saying goodbye to Sam, you walked back up the stairs to your apartment. When you opened the door, Josh appeared from your room, causing you to nearly break the table in the hallway.

"What the hell Josh!" He shrugged his shoulders, making his way to the couch. "What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting until you got back from hanging out with my brother. What were you two doing anyway?" Pouring a glass of water from the sink, you took a sip, and made your way to the couch next to Josh. You leaned your head back on the cushion, staring at the ceiling. "Sam bought a pretty hefty bass, and bought more records." You looked over at Josh. "What about you?"

"Well you know," he sighed. "Tried to work on writing up some new lyrics. Even went over to Danny's and Jake's to work some stuff out. It's coming along nicely." Setting the cup down on the coffee table, you looped an arm around Josh's, leaning your head on his shoulder. "Good. It'll come out beautifully in the end," you said patting his hand. You sniffed, sitting up in your seat. "Are you staying for dinner?" Josh hummed looking up at you. "Oh yeah. I was actually wondering if I could stay for the night; get's kind of lonely at my place." You nodded.

"Yeah, that's fine." You walked over to the kitchen. "Anything in mind you want to eat?" you asked. "Uh, how about that chicken. The one you make with the rice, mushrooms, and asparagus." You started to pull out the pots and pans, placing them on the stove. You leaned back on the counter watching everything cook. To be quite frank, you didn't know how you would handle Josh staying over. Of course, you and Josh were rather close, it even shocked people that you knew each other so well. After all, he knew you better than your own blood.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing. On one hand, it would give you time to think some things over and ponder the questions Sam had asked you earlier today. And then you could for sure decide what you wanted to do. You grabbed some plates and moved the food over to the table. Josh was already seated, patiently awaiting your arrival.

"Looks good, as always." he complimented, raising his hands towards you. "Thanks, Josh." you smiled.

"So," he said, chewing his food. "What happened at the music store?" Rolling your eyes at the thought of Sam annoying you, you told him about how he was flirting with the girl at the front desk. "I mean just giggling, and laughing, it was like watching teenagers make out." You made a small coughing noise thinking about Sam flirting with that poor girl. "But, you know, as they say, there's someone for everyone," you said sarcastically, shaking your head. Josh let out a high-pitched laugh at Sam. "That's Sam for you. He bore you with anything else?"

You thought about all the moments were Sam had bullied you over liking Josh or falling in love with Josh. Of course, you loved Josh but you weren't sure whether you were 'in love' with him per se. He was practically your other half. Nobody else could compare to that. But it was hard to decipher whether you even liked him like that. "You know. The usual; stuff about when you all were younger and more embarrassing moments."

Josh covered his face with his hands, groaning. "I hope it wasn't all too bad." He shook his head, eating the last bits of food. "Not at all, actually." As you both finished your plates, you sat in comfortable silence. That was until Josh spoke out about something.

"Hey remember that time- ugh geez, when was it," he asked, pressing on his face. "Probably around the time I first met you, and I pretty much knew then you hated my fucking guts, man" You let out a breath at the thought of Josh thinking you hated him. "But that was also the time I kept catching you listening to the album at the time. Just over and over and over again." Josh just shook his head thinking of you. "I didn't- hate you," you confessed. "I just really didn't know how to be around people so much. I did like that album though." you laughed, pointing at Josh. Who also laughed along with you. "Look, I'm sorry I made you feel that way; I just, I've never really had close friends like you." Before he could say anything back, you picked up the plates, placing them in the sink.

From inside the kitchen, you could hear him talking to his brothers on the phone. The usual screaming, laughing, and anger from whatever stupid joke someone told. It honestly made you wish you were closer to your own sister. Whom you haven't spoken to in the past ten years. After you finished off with the dishes, you walked to your bedroom. Which was hard to admit, but you had an entire wall full of Greta Van Fleet photos from when you first started working with them because you had a hard time telling who was who.

"Oh, I remember these photos!" Josh exclaimed as walked into your room. He marveled at all the photos you had printed out and plastered on the wall. Some even had labels of all the boy's names. "Yeah, a little creepy, don't you think?"

Josh shrugged. "I'll give you the benefit of the doubt because you didn't know who we were, and I know some people have a hard time differentiating between us twins." You turned around and opened up the bag full of record vinyl, handing some to Josh. "Here, I bought some for you earlier, and I figured I could use some- given the only two I have are from your band." He giggled, flipping through the different albums. "Oh, Bob Dylan! What a legend and old Michael Jackson! Very good stuff." You patted his shoulder as you put away all the other albums on a shelf.

"So, the spare bedroom should be good-" Josh cut you off. "I was hoping to sleep with you, actually. Unless that makes you too uncomfortable." You nearly choked on your own spit when Josh asked you that. You really didn't think he'd be that lonely. "Um, no that's fine. I'm sure I have someone's clothes here you can use." He grinned.

"Thanks." You handed him some spare clothes and left him to change in the bathroom. When you returned he was already tucked in, facing the wall with the pictures. Turning off the light, you quietly slid in next to him. You'd never really been in this much of an intimate situation, no less next to Josh. It wasn't awkward, but it was just hard to decipher the feelings of the both of you, and where he was going with his suggestion. "Can I ask you something?" Josh whispered. He turned around to face you closer.

"What was your initial thought when you first met me?" You laughed a little to yourself. "When I first met you I wanted to be exactly like you." Josh propped himself up on his elbow, leaning even closer to you.

"What about me?" he asked. "I don't know. You were always so confident, and the way you carried yourself; just, it made me so mad and angry that I couldn't be like that. Maybe that's why it came off that I hated you a little bit." Josh laid back down.

"Listen, you'll always be the best thing that happened to me. When I first met you, I thought you had the most brilliant mind out of everyone I ever met. Except for Danny. He's got an excellent brain." You smacked his arm laughing out loud.

"Thank you, Josh." You rolled over onto your side, hoping to fall asleep soon. Before you did though, you felt Josh slip an arm around your side; his face falling into the back of your neck. Soon, both of you fell asleep together.

When morning came the next day, Josh was still entangled in your back, but this time his arm was hugging you tighter. At any slight movement, he just pulled you closer. Finally giving up from moving away from Josh, you laid there silently in his arms. You silently traced the creases in his hand, thinking absentmindedly. He stirred a tiny bit but never woke. You took this time to turn around and look at him. His arm still wrapped around tightly on your shoulder; causing you to bury your face into his chest.

Inhaling his warm scent, you just about closed your eyes imagining a world where you were in love with him, and he loved you back. At this moment, he started to finally wake up. You decided to keep your eyes closed, too embarrassed to see what his reaction would be to find you both like this. You could feel Josh's eyes looking around the room before they made their way down to you. Feeling the certainty of him staring down at you made you panic a little. But then you could feel his hand start to part through your hair, moving it out of your face. His movement followed by leaning forward, giving you a long slow kiss on the forehead.

Then there was the fine sensation of his lips lingering on your skin. He started whispering your name, shaking you awake. You slowly blinked your eyes to make it look like you hadn't really been awake all this time. He smiled brightly when you both made eye contact. "Good morning," he said softly. You smiled, placing a hand on his chest. "Good morning Josh."

Letting out a little yawn, you turned over and sat up on the side of the bed. You sipped on some water that had been on you bedside for a while, then stretched out. "What do you plan on doing today?" you asked groggily. "Everyone wanted to meet up today and go over some stuff. Wanna join?" you quickly nodded your head.

"Great. Well then, I'll go take a shower and get ready." He walked away silently, leaving you all alone once more. Deciding against the better of things, you too got up to shower. While waiting for the water to heat up, you traced against the spots where Josh's hand had been.

It's like there was a space left on you, but you could only feel the invisible touch leftover from him. Jumping in the shower felt like you were committing a terrible sin. The handprint of Josh washed away as every drop of water hit your body. But it felt just as warm and comforting as him. After quickly getting dressed, you met Josh at the front door who was holding it open for you. The crisp autumn air surprised you in the face when you walked outside. The sidewalks weren't too busy but crowded to perfection

You both got in the car and drove to the studio. Everyone was already there by the time you two made it; For some reason, Josh had wanted to stop to get everyone coffee and a bagel, which you really couldn't say no to. Sam raised his eyebrows at you when you walked in with Josh pretty late. You hit him on the arm lightly. Sam rubbed the part of his arm, cursing you off. Everyone, including you, walked into a backroom set with all the instruments anyone could think of, and two very well-loved on couches.

The lights in the room were set to a dim, vintage-style brown, illuminating everyone's tan features. Josh handed the food out, starting the conversation. It varied from topic to topic.

"How is everyone?"

"Are there new ideas anyone wants to talk about?"

"How about we do this instead of that."

Josh snapped his fingers in front of your face, waving his hand around. "Hey silly, I asked you a question." you looked up quickly, meeting everyone's gaze. "Huh?"

"I said do you have any ideas on what we should wear?" You pulled out a small sketchbook from your jacket pocket showing Josh, and the rest of the band on the different aesthetics for clothing. "I was thinking about stitching some nudity art on the back for Josh. I'll probably go shopping for some silk and thread. I found this really cool jacket piece for Jake; I'll add some things on it, and a shiny blazer for Sam. As for Danny, I found these really nice pants, but I have to tailor them. I'm still trying to find a smooth shirt to go with."

You wrote down some reminder notes giving the rest some time to process anything and get started. Josh sat next to you on one of the couches, pulling out his note journal. He pointed out some of the lyrics, whispering to himself before showing it to you. "I came up with these this morning." your cheeks turned red, though you doubt Josh could see given how dark it was. You read through the lines in each glorious manner. They each had a delicate touch to them, written with something personal

It reminded you of something ethereal. Like being in outer space, and getting to look at all the planets from afar. "What are you thinking?" Josh asked. You let out a short breath before answering. "I think it's good. Really good in fact. I can feel it's personal to you, you know."

Before he could respond, there was a line of curses causing you both to look up. Jake was yelling at himself and the guitar in his hands with a tiny string poking out from the neck of the guitar.

"This fucking piece of shit keeps breaking," he he groaned, with gritted teeth. Rolling your eyes, you went to the other grabbing some new guitar strings. Handing them back Jake, he mumbled out a thank you. "Guess what, it's not that hard to get up and get new strings, Jake. I just did it by myself." Everyone laughed at your taunting to Jake, getting rid of his frustrated mood.

"Well, you're the best." He poked your shoulder. You headed back to another room to think about some more things. Possibly about Josh; but the majority for the band. Really working with them, never gave you time to put yourself out there. Which wasn't a terrible thing. In fact, you preferred not to out. You've always had a one-track mind. Focused too much on one thing, forgetting completely about anything else. It's probably why you'd failed out of most schools during your high school and college career. It always ended up being too much for your brain to handle.

Maybe that's what you feared most. Things always getting in the way; either making you angry, or angry enough to run away and never look back. You didn't want that with Josh. Nor did you want that for this band. You made some more scratch notes, listening to the muffled sound of music. After a while, you doodled in your notebook for some clothing ideas. Stitching had been one of the many skills that stuck with you since when. You never really knew where you learned to do such a thing.

Josh always told you how marvelous your work was. That it belonged in a museum of some sort. He knew somehow that you'd do great things with art. When sketching became boring, you shopped around online for some fabric, and thread, ordering what you needed. When finished some smaller portions of work, you fell back on the couch pushing your hair out of your face. Josh walked in at the right time, pulling you back into the studio.

"We hashed some things out, figured what don't and do want for some of the songs. Think we'll be ready to record in a few weeks." All the boys cheered each other on, pushing each other around. "I think this calls for a celebration over some drinks."

"Great idea. There's a bar a couple of blocks from here. What do you say?" Everyone hummed in agreement, piling out the door. Josh had a hand on your back as he walked you out through all the doors.

When you walked inside there were a few people seated around. It wasn't overbearing crazy. Everyone took a seat at the bar ordering drinks. You had already taken a couple of tequila shots to loosen up for the night. "So tell me," Josh slouched down in his seat. "What do you think the future holds for this band." You giggled, already a little drunk.

"What I think doesn't matter Josh. I think that you'll be successful in whatever you choose to do. I think it's you as the leader to help everyone along. In my opinion, they're here to support you and your ideas. I mean, of course, they have their own input but you get what I'm saying." Josh nodded along, sipping his drink. "That's quite a mouthful, but yeah. I'd do anything for these people. For Christ's sake, three of them are my brothers. And Danny I've known for like ever." He pointed to them, which they were all fighting about something.

Josh shook his head, looking down at the floor. He placed a hand on your shoulder as he left for another drink. Sam soon replaced Josh, slouching in the same position. "What were you two talking about." He waved a finger around your face. To which, you quickly swatted away. "He loves you, Sam. We love you. I love you, Sam."

Sam pursed his lips, squinting his eyes. "You're that drunk already?" You hummed looking at your watch seeing as only twenty minutes had passed. "Well Sam, the night's still young, so I'm willing to get fucking wasted if you are." He quickly nodded his head, ordering the two of you more drinks. As the night went on, all of you managed to play twelve rounds of pool (none of which you won), a game of cards, and meet totally random people. You, including the boys, were completely wasted and it wasn't even one in the morning. Danny and Jake had left to go god knows where, leaving you, Sam, and Josh talking to some random girl at a table. Looking over at Josh, you felt your heart hurt a little.

Sometimes you wish you had the assertiveness that Josh had to talk to him. Deep down you knew he would never reject you. He would randomly bring up why you never got together, but you always dismissed the conversation too scared of what might happen. Sam slipped next to you, turning his chair around to face you. He followed your line of sight, his eyes landing on Josh laughing with the same girl who's been here for hours.

"Look, if it pisses you off that much, talk to him later. It's not like he's gonna hate you for the rest of his life. He practically loves you to death." You shook your head, taking another drink of your beer. "I'm just- I'm not mad- I'll just never be able to be that person who can just randomly walk up to a person and fall 'in love' with them." You cried. Every time you think about it, you just want to go to bed and hide. "But how come I never end up with people like you or Jake or even sweet people like Danny. Why does it have to be Josh?"

Sam sat up in his chair, turning it back around to face the bar. "Why don't you try it. Maybe you fighting inside that big head of yours really doesn't like Josh after all." Sam said as he cradled your face, shaking it around. "Really?" Sam shrugged. "What's the worse that can happen? If something happens, so be it. Never hurts to try anything."

Sam bent down quickly, kissing you softly. His lips felt smooth against yours like running a hand over pliable silk. He swiftly ran a hand through your hair, pulling your face closer to his. Finally, he pulled away, smiling down at you.

"Nope." you shook your head. "Well hey, at least we know." He patted your shoulder, walking away towards a game of cards being played.

The next day you woke up with an intense headache. There was some leftover water and Ibuprofen on your nightstand. You didn't know how you made it back home or really remember anything at all from the night before.

You downed the pill and some water, making your way slowly to the bathroom, balancing yourself on a wall. You turned on the shower letting the hot water settle the uneasiness in your stomach. The pounding inside your head kept going on for what felt like hours. It didn't help either that you were trying so hard to remember the night before. Of course, you knew that you drank more than you could handle. Then there was Sam. But it all stopped there.

The shower helped a little bit. You danced around to find some clothes to get ready, or at least look decent. After getting ready, you drove back to Sam's. When he opened the door, you noticed Jake and Danny were there already. Except for no Josh. Not that it was out of the ordinary, it was just something you expected.

You made your way through his kitchen, pulling out a cigarette. "I don't think you really wanna be smoking that right now." You glared at him before putting the smoke out. "Um, do you remember what happened last night?" You asked, rubbing the small spot on your head in hopes to get rid of the pain. Sam bit into a piece of food, answering with his mouth full. "We kissed. Yeah," he nodded in assurance. "Yeah, we kissed." You let your head fall into your hands, groaning.

"How'd I get home?" Sam hummed, pointing his piece of food at you. "Josh. Although, he seemed pretty pissed at me. You were also super drunk." Right, you thought. Of course, this would happen to you. Partially you blamed yourself for being so stuck-up and bitchy most of the time, but part of you wishes Sam just pushed you away. Why were you so indecisive all the damn time? For once, it would be nice if you could make a whole-hearted decision without going out and fucking everything up.

You scratched around your eye, watching Sam as he went to go sit next to Jake.

4 weeks later. . .

It really had been almost a whole month that you had gone without talking to Josh. Some nights you wish you could pick up your phone and just text him, but you know it would go unnoticed. It hurt just a little bit. Every day you blamed yourself for screwing things up. When was it not your fault that something went wrong?

You sat bored at home. You tried to catch up on different things like laundry, cleaning, reorganizing literally everything, but nothing seemed to work. You muffled curses under your breath at nothing. That was until you got a text from Jake saying that everyone needed your 'strong womanly brain' to work with. Over the four-week period, you hadn't really talked with the other band members except for Danny (who seriously cares for anybody and everything), and Sam who just random stuff.

You flipped through a random magazine, flipping through the pages reading about the different styles and how to flaunt them. That was until a text from Sam disturbed you saying that everyone needed you at the studio ASAP.

You ran to your door faster than ever, quickly putting on your coat and shoes. When you arrived, no one was seen at first, so you went to the back and everyone was gathered around in a large, huddled circle. Jake was the first to greet you, Sam following close behind.

"Hey! I haven't seen you in a long time." Jake towered over you, pulling you into his side. "Yeah, my mom called. Wanted me to go see her." you lied, looking at Sam, who had just turned in the other direction. "Well, I hope she's doing good. Look, I wanted to see your opinion on some things. Just general stuff, okay?" you nodded. He led you back to a table and passed some papers around, and a little CD that had pre-recorded music. Before any of you could speak though, a door creaked loudly, and out came Josh with a petite girl beside him. His smile immediately disappeared when his eyes landed on you.

The girl looked. . . nice. In other words, she looked like a pleasant enough girl Josh would pick from a crowd. She had a tan, rich skin like his. With wavy, brown hair. Unlike Josh, she had more hazel-green eyes. Everyone stood there awkwardly, looking around at each other. You scratched the top of your head, eyes facing down towards the table. Jake cleared his throat before grabbing a seat for Josh, and the girl.

And of course, to make more room they were both seated in between you and Jake, making her sit right next to you. You smiled nervously towards her as she got herself situated. For a while, you stared at the velvet walls as Jake led on the conversation. You felt a little poke on your arm and noticed she was trying to talk to you.

"Hi, I'm Logan," she whispered. The one thing you noticed about Logan was her smile. It reminded you of Josh. His naturally bright teeth could make anyone instantly happier. "Y/N," you said curtly. You weren't the one to start a conversation, but luckily she made it easy.

"So, how do you know Josh?" she asked, pointing to him. You played around with your nails, turning to look at her. "Uh, I work for him," Not 'I'm his best friend or anything. Totally just ruined the relationship I had by kissing his younger brother because I'm really in love with the man your dating' "And them too, of course." you gave a hesitant laugh, pointing to the rest of them. She bit her lip, turning to listen to the conversation, and then back to you.

"How long have you known all of them, or like worked for them I guess?"

"Around three years. This will be my fourth I think." she nodded with your answer. Finally, she turned back around to listen to what Josh was saying.

You looked back down at the disc, swirling it around on the table. This is hard, you thought. It's all you can think about. Logan's so kind towards you; not the weirdly hostile type. She's not annoying, not inconclusive about anything. Logan's perfect in her own way. She's perfect to Josh. Something you've always wanted, but you, yourself stopped you from having.

"So, uh Y/N, can you take a listen to the CD?" Jake asked you. "Yeah. It'll just be a little later though. I have to finish some other stuff." There was silence as everyone stared at you. Including Josh, who seemed to have a permanent look on you.

"I can listen; if you're busy," Logan speaking up caught you by surprise. It may have angered you a bit because that was your job, to listen. You just looked back at Sam anxiously, who shook his head at you.

"Oh, my bad," Josh said loudly. "This is my girlfriend- Logan. Who you have all met before, but not Y/N. Forgot to introduce you two." If everyone hadn't been in the room right now, you would've gotten up and hit him right across the head. Logan kindly smiled back at you. "Yeah, we were talking earlier," She said pointing to you. "Well, as I said, I can listen if you can't."

If it was anybody else, you would've said something back already. But who were you to yell at this kind, beautiful woman next to you? Though, Sam must've read you wrong since quietly grabbed your wrist. "Sure," you said, handing the CD to Logan. Sitting back in your chair, defeated, what else were you supposed to do?

Another lousy week passed, and you wanted to jump off a roof. It had been raining for the past few days, never letting up once. No one had really made contact with you except Danny (you secretly loved him to death), and Sam. You were pretty sure the rest had picked up on the tense atmosphere and didn't want to bother you. No doubt, you probably wouldn't want to speak with yourself either.

You shrugged off a sweater, playing with the end of your sheets. Life was so boring now without any entertainment from anyone. You eventually rolled over on your back, staring a hole into the ceiling. You went over every excuse and explanation you could give to Josh. You understood why he was mad, you figured that much. But sometimes you wish he had his smart wisdom back to understand you better.

You fell to the floor sometime later, reading something random off the shelf. You flipped through the pages mindlessly before you heard some knocking at your door. You ran quickly, opening the door to find Sam standing there with bottles of gin and tequila in his hand. Laughing quietly, you led him inside, finding some bottles for drinks.

"What brings you around?" you raised your eyebrows, pouring some tequila for you and Sam. "Josh," he cleared his throat, taking a few sips. "What about Josh?" Trying to hold your breath, made you curious as to why Josh's younger brother was so angry at him. In fact, you wanted to burst out laughing. "He's so stubborn with everything, and the way he talks about you. God- it's like- I've never seen so much hatred from him." Sam shook his head downing the rest of his drink. He poured some more in his cup and your cup.

You took Sam's hand leading him to your room. You put on Labi Siffre, an old, classic album. You also turned on one of your dim colored lights. They lit up Sam's cheekbones perfectly, making his pale skin glow flawlessly. It looked smooth enough to run a finger over and feel the gentle, velvety skin of Sam.

"How does he talk about me?" Sam closed his eyes, thinking. "He just doesn't let go of the subject. Anytime you or I come up, it's just this rage of fury from him. He almost shuts down essentially. You know," he burped. "They all went out tonight."

You hummed at that. "They all went out, leaving behind you and me." You scoffed at the thought of Josh with Logan at your favorite bar or restaurant. "I'm so sorry Sam." You rubbed his arm, looking down at the floor next to your bed. "That was you and your brother's relationship, and I just," you flicked your hands, making a whoosh sound. Sam laughed, leaning into your side. "Don't worry about it. I like helping you out. Josh can be a little much sometimes."

You elbowed him in the side thinking about something. "Hey whatever happened to the girl from the music shop? You ever talk to her lately?"

"Yeah," he huffed out. "We've been talking lately. She wants to meet up sometime soon, but I don't know." You cocked your head to the side. "Why not. You clearly like her and she really likes you. I don't remember when the last time some actually liked you." Sam pretended he was hurt, pushing you to the side. "I'll ask her sometime when I'm not busy. She's nice."

"And pretty?" you questioned. Sam let out a laugh, swirling the alcohol in his cup. "Very pretty." You both let out sighs sitting in comfortable silence. Although, your mind was occupied with thoughts of Josh, swirling around and never-ending. There were times you just wanted to get up and say fuck it and try to at least explain. But of course, the rejection of him never wanting to be your friend again would kill you. Maybe this was the universe's cruel way of saying you and Josh were never meant to be together in the first place.

If so, you hated it.

Surprisingly, Sam was the first to wake up. Which rarely happens considering how well you knew him. The poor boy slept through everything. He started shaking you awake, poking and tickling your sides. "Are you dead, jeez?" You quickly rubbed your eyes, sitting up. "Sorry, the alcohol must've really knocked me out." Sam stifled a yawn, sitting on the edge of your bed. "Well, we can do one of two things today," he noted. "We can either go to the studio and face my brother, or we can- do nothing else. That's really it. I kind of swore I would be there today."

You couldn't stay inside any longer. You decided against the greater good to tag along with Sam. Maybe you could talk with Josh, and clear the air. "Can I go with you?" Sam nodded feverishly. "Of course; that's like your job."

"It doesn't feel like it. Logan's pretty much taking over, so what's the point of me." You scoffed thinking of the mellow girl who seemed to get along with everyone. You hated to slander her, but you just wanted Josh back. You and Sam left in a rush, hastily driving to the studio. You walked inside with a cigarette dangling from your lips, smoke escaping through your nose. Sweat seeped from your palms making you excited and nervous at the same time. You felt like an outsider coming in on your job. Thinking about seeing Josh made it worse.

"Hello, Hello Y/N" Danny strutted over, hairs sticking to his forehead. He pulled you in for a tight hug, nearly suffocating you. "Hey, Daniel." you moved the hairs around his face so you could see him better. "Long time, no see, man." He laughed walking back to his seat behind the drum kit. You followed Sam to the other rooms where Jake and Josh might be hiding. Sure enough, Josh was standing next to his twin, listening to a riff he was playing. They immediately stopped talking to each other. Josh scoffed at you as Sam led you inside, beside him.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" Josh said it lowly, spitting it towards you. Your eyes looked down, not daring to ever lookup. "Hey Josh," Sam patted him on the shoulder. You looked awkwardly around the room looking for a means to escape. When you realized there wasn't one, you looked back at Josh. He quietly talked to Jake about something before turning to you. You tried to look away fast enough, but his eyes caught yours. Josh started to stalk close to you, exhaling a breath. "Hey," you thought he might've not heard you, but his response caught you off guard.

"Hey, Y/N" He sniffled a little bit before turning towards you. "Care to take a walk with me? Could use some fresh air." You nodded your head silently, following after him. If your anxiety hadn't kicked in yet, it sure as hell did now. Josh was never a person to scare you. He was too light and giddy for him to be somewhat freighting.

He walked slightly behind you with a hand on the small of your back. Josh eventually let go of you when you both made it to the sidewalk. The people around you made the silence slightly more comfortable but you wished you had something to think about other than Josh. After a few more moments of silence, you decided to speak up, but Josh beat you to it. "I'm sorry for being an ass," he cleared it all out on one breath. You scoffed at him. "I think you were being more than an ass, Josh." He suddenly slowed his walking to match your pace.

"You pretty much left me in the wind. I thought I lost my best friend," you nudged him softly in the ribcage, laughing. He held a hand over his chest, heaving out a relieved breath. "I thought you were going to hate me forever." You pointed at him before saying: "Pull anything like that again, and I'll do more than just hate you forever."

Josh held his hands up abruptly like you had caught him stealing something. "I promise." You smirked. The both of you walked around endlessly making small talk here and there. Part of you was glad that you and Josh had cleared the air. Although, you hadn't really talked with him about Sam. It embarrassed you just thinking about the whole situation.

After you made a full round of the streets, Josh walked you back inside the studio. It was hours before anyone ever got to go home. The moon had fully risen and was shining brightly in the sky. You stared up like a child, holding on tightly to your coat. When you were making your way towards Sam's car Josh had grabbed you by the elbow.

"Y/N," Josh fiddled around with the collar of his jacket, looking down at the concrete. Even though it was pitch black outside, you could tell Josh's face was heating up. "I was wondering if you wanted to come back with me? I know Sam was taking you home, but I still feel like we need to talk." A small smile started to quickly form. You nodded not thinking about the harm that could come from staying with Josh.

"Yeah, sure." you let a hesitant sigh before following him once more. When you arrived inside Josh's home it felt almost foreign. There were slightly disheveled things around, but nothing had really changed. It still had all the same scattered records on the coffee table as well as random books set around the countertops. Josh flipped on the light switch and went towards the kitchen. He came back out and handed you a cup of water before taking off his coat.

"I know, it's been a long time since we spoke," he started. "or even hung out together."

You nodded, sipping some of the water. "Yeah, I kind of missed that."

After you and Josh got situated, he led you back to his room. There was a dim lamp, along with some new fairy lights scattered around the ceiling. "Fairy lights?" You pointed to the little bulbs sparkling brightly. "Oh, yeah," Josh was picking out a record, finally placing it on the player. It was an album you hadn't heard before, but it seemed to fit the mood well enough. Looking around for a little bit longer you come to find some old pictures on the floor. Squatting down, you noticed they were photos of his brothers and Daniel when they were younger. But what really caught your attention was a stack neatly dedicated to you.

Some of the photos had showcased some of you and Josh's late adventures, and the concerts you had appeared to. One in particular in which Josh had his arms wrapped around your middle, seated around a bonfire. That was a night you remember very clearly. That was when you realized how much you loved Josh. He never left your side and coddled you close to him. The memory warmed your heart making it beat a tiny bit faster.

"That was a very hot summer night if I remember correctly." Josh peered over your shoulder, studying the picture. "Yeah, it was. Then I passed out inside the van right after that," you laughed loudly, tossing your head back. Running a finger over your face in the picture still reminiscing on the sweet memory, you could feel Josh watching you from across the room.

"Can you come up here for a sec?" Josh patted his mattress, motioning to you. You could tell he was nervous still when he started to fumble around with his nails, not making much eye contact. "Do you remember when I asked you why you envied me so much?" He let out a slow breath, nudging you a little bit with his elbow. You realized the change in the situation and started to mirror his nervous tics.

"Yeah, I just- wish I could carry myself like you. You're always the most confident person in the room; you know things Josh that no one could ever know." The two of you sat in silence for a little bit after you answered. Josh hesitated before speaking again but continued on after pondering for a bit. "Well, I never felt that way around you. For the longest time, I would beat myself up just thinking about how wonderful you are Y/N. The way you think of me is how I always thought of you. Just not as confident because of how quiet you are sometimes." He laughed out the last part making you smile back.

"God, sometimes I just want to cry because of how amazing you are Y/N. Everything you've done for this band, everything you've done for me; I just - I love you." You slowly turned your head to look at Josh, replaying the words over and over again in your head.

He loves you.

"I'm going to assume you mean in it in that way Josh or this would be very embarrassing." Josh snickered, putting both hands on the side of your face. "I mean it in every way possible." He finally pressed his lips to yours, feeling the velvet touch of each other. Josh ran his fingers through your hair, pressing his tongue in an open-mouthed kiss. You moaned quietly when he started to press kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. You could feel his hands start to travel down to your waist, hugging you tightly as it showed in the picture.

Josh continued to bite down on your skin and sucked, leaving bright red marks behind. His fingers squeezed down on your hips before traveling under your shirt. He placed a knee between your legs, pushing you further into the mattress. You looked at each other momentarily as Josh slipped you out of your shirt. He ran his hands over your stomach making you flinch at the sudden touch.

"Josh," His name came out as a whine as Josh slipped off your bra, throwing it towards the floor. You caught the look of awe when his eyes landed on your breasts, your chest heaving slightly. He returned to kissing down your neck making his way down your collar bone. Your hands made their way to his hair, tugging at it when his mouth made contact with your nipple.

He sucked gently, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud. All you could think about was the euphoric thoughts running through your brain. All you could see were stars, showing up in random directions making you lost in the feeling. Josh continued for a while before slowly traveling down to your legs.

Josh looked at you for approval, to which you vaguely nodded in return, before pulling off your pants. You shuddered at the delicate touch of his fingers ghosting along your skin. His hands traveled back up your calves, pressing at your thighs. The room suddenly became too hot as his fingers wrapped around the strap of your underwear, pulling them down your legs. Your breathing was so ragged by now that you thought Josh might've pointed it out already, but he continued to stare down at you with the most mesmerizing look in his eyes. You knew at this point if this had been anyone else, you probably would've wanted to hide under the bed. Something so comforting about Josh made it feel natural to in his grasps.

Josh started down at your ankles, pressing hard kisses up your legs. He hovered over your pelvis just before kissing around your clit. Your legs immediately started to close at the feeling, but his hand pushed them back farther. "Josh, oh my god!" You moaned out into nothing. He continued sucking hard on your clit making the stars in your head come closer to earth.

"Josh, please," Your hands pulled at his curls as he lapped around your center. "You're so fucking wet for me Y/N. Jesus," He moaned into your heat making you squirm on the bed.

"Please Josh, use your fingers, please." You whined mercilessly at the thought of coming around his fingers. It wasn't long before you felt two fingers drag inside of you, along with the feeling of him sucking your clit. You could feel yourself getting nearer to your orgasm as he curled his fingers against your g-spot. "Josh, don't fucking stop!"

At the perfect moment, everything seemed to fall apart in the most beautiful way. You leaned your head back into the pillow as your vision turned white with little black dots appearing randomly. Josh's breath fanned over your heat before he stood up to take off some of his clothes.

"Can't really have sex if I'm still dressed like I'm going to fucking prom or something, Jesus." You giggled loudly while you watched him crawl back over you. Josh pressed a soft kiss to your lips, grinding his hips against you. Your hand slowly ran over his chest, grabbing onto his belt. You fumbled around until you managed to get it undone along with his pants. Josh stared at your face, admiring your features. "I don't think I'll be able to take you seriously for much longer if you don't do something," you whispered.

"Oh yeah?" Josh raised an eyebrow, smiling at you. You slowly reached past his briefs making contact with his hard-on, causing him to moan quietly and start kissing you again.

"Uh, I don't think I have any condoms on me; I didn't really envision fucking you tonight." You smirked, wrapping your arms around his neck. "It's okay. I'm on the pill." You pulled his underwear down, hiking your legs around his hips loosely. You could feel yourself getting wetter as he passively rolled his forefinger over your clit. You kissed him hard, sucking on his tongue. "Fuck me, please," you begged. Josh looked deeply into your eyes, then grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his hips, tightly. He teased you, rubbing himself up and down your center.

You exhaled as he entered you, wrapping a hand around his bicep to steady yourself. Josh's head fell into your neck, feeling his warm breath as he trusted in slowly. He lifted his head to kiss you; He used his hand to move the hairs out of your face, wrapping it around your cranium. "You are so- prepossessing." He whispered, his thrust becoming faster.

Your nails dug into his shoulder blades after he set such a brutal pace that you didn't think you'd be able to keep up with. You took note of how his curls stuck to his forehead. Whenever he thrust in, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer. His thrust started to shake the bed only spurring you on more. Your hands grabbed at his torso, holding onto him tightly.

"Josh," you breathed out, words lost as they left your mouth. "Don't stop." Josh looked between your bodies as they pressed together. He thrust in deep, pressing you into the bed further. You cursed under your breath, trying to hold back the moans only releasing small high-pitched whines. Your head fell back against the pillow, all the tension releasing your body slowly. "Fuck," Josh moaned into your collarbone. He tightened his grip on your thigh, quickening his thrusts.

You ran your fingers along the nape of his neck, feeling the little hairs stick to his body. Josh moaned, feeling him cum deep inside you. His head fell into your neck as you both tried to catch your breath. Josh smiled, pressing kisses to your chest before laying down next to you.

"Fuck you're amazing," Josh mumbled into your ear. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder pulling your head to his chest. His hands ran down your arm, squeezing the tiny bit of flesh. "Tell me something I don't already know Joshua." You flipped over onto your side, Josh following in pursuit. He tightened his arm once more around your stomach this time. He pressed small kisses along your shoulder, laying his face into your hair.

"I love you," He mumbled.

"I love you too." You placed your hand over his, peace finding you easy tonight.

When you woke up the next morning, Josh still had you in his arms, snoring softly. Like you, he liked to get up when it was still dark out, but given last night you couldn't blame either of yourselves for wanting to sleep in. Josh woke up sometime after, pressing small kisses into the nape of your neck down to your shoulder blades.

"Good morning," he said quietly, wrapping his legs around yours, pulling his body closer to yours.

"Morning Josh." You closed your eyes allowing the quiet of the room to comfort you. It seemed pretty peaceful outside, from what you could hear at least. But your mind was running a thousand miles a minute. How did a three-year friendship change so drastically? If someone told you that three years later you'd be sleeping with Josh, you probably start cursing them out at the bare minimum. Josh infuriated you at the beginning, but what changed that you couldn't get enough? Maybe it was his style? Everyone loves Josh's style. He doesn't really care what goes together, as long as it fits him and his outrageous personality. Speaking of which, Josh's personality was unspoken of. People turned heads when he walked through doors because he was always the life of the party. Normal people just naturally gravitate towards him. Heck, you couldn't even keep up the 'holding a grudge' façade for too long because Josh helped you. Maybe you thanked him for that instead.

"I think we need to get up," you said, patting his hand. He protested that you two keep sleeping longer because it's too early. "Josh it's like," you squinted your eyes towards the clock. "Nine am." You yelled, pushing his arm of you.

You ran into the bathroom to pee before jumping in the shower. After taking some time cleaning yourself and changing into something more comfortable (which ended up being one of Josh's old college sweatshirts because he insisted you looked really good in them) you both left to the studio. Of course, the first one to greet you was your favorite out of the four, Daniel. After he finished talking with Josh, he led the both of you to a back room. It was a large decorated room that you hadn't really been in much. The walls were in stripes of inverted red along with carpet having a velvet touch to it. Plaques labeled the wall with other types of scandalous music art.

Jake and Sam walked in together already arguing about something. "Lookey here," Jake pulled you into a side hug, and Sam passed you a drink. "I thought my smoking habits were bad, but drinking at ten in the morning?" you tutted Sam away from you, taking a seat at a large table. "It helps me think more clearly."

Josh took a seat next to you, placing a hand on your thigh. "Hey, you never showed me the finish drawing for your clothing ideas." You raised your eyebrows and said: "I wonder why." You cocked your head to the side, and Josh frowned at you. Snickering to yourself, you handed him a sketchbook. "These are- really good, Y/N. I forgot you could draw so well." You doodled around the paper of a sketched-out Josh in what would be fashion attire for next year. "One of my many hobbies."

He patted your leg before turning his attention to his twin. Sam waltzed over to your side, a cigarette hanging from his lips. "Is that my brother's sweatshirt?" You glared at him before answering a subtle yes. Sam gasped in a fake manner, holding a hand across his heart.

"Are you two in love with each other finally?" Sam laughed at you giving him a side-eye. "Good. you make Josh happy." Content with that, he left to go sit next to Danny. You played around with the drawing some more, later on, moving to a computer to work there. Everyone left you alone to go play in another room which seems to help numb the background noise. Though, it didn't last long until Josh walked through the door. He strutted over to you, rubbing a hand on your back before sitting down.

"How's it goin' in there?" You closed the laptop, turning your attention towards him. Josh talked about how everything's coming along nicely, and Jake is stubborn about everything or how Sam is always messing up. You hummed, following along. Not that you would ever tell Josh, but sometimes you never would really listen to what he was saying, but you loved to watch his hand movements or the expressions on his face. It added to his character. "I meant to ask you some time ago, but uh- whatever happened to Logan?" Josh immediately froze, looking down to the floor like a scolded puppy.

"I told her I would talk to her later this week." You shook your head, crossing your arms. "What?"

"Nothing; I was just thinking we wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for me oodling with your brother." Josh laughed at your choice of words, placing his hand softly on yours. "I think it was both us Y/N."

'Well, in my defense Sam is kind of hot now that I think about it." Josh slapped your shoulder. "Mmmm, you're right Sam does have that 'sense' to him." Time seemed to fly by the five of you, constantly arguing, laughing, or just goofing off with each other. It felt good to be back with everybody, and not walking around on eggshells. Sometimes the moment was so pleasant, you never wanted it to end.

It was eerily quiet when you walked inside Josh's home. It was nighttime, and the moon was full, shining brightly through the curtains. "Don't you ever wish you could see the stars?" Josh asked randomly.

"Light pollution man," He mumbled out, yeah, heading towards his bedroom. You peeked outside the window one more time, catching a glimpse of the clouds in the sky. Josh had changed into some comfier clothing and slid under the covers. You followed in pursuit, still wearing his old college t-shirt. "Where do you think we'll be in ten years?" The question had taken you by surprise. You knew he had a tendency to think a lot about the future, which was kind of admirable, but you had a hard time figuring out what the future would hold for you.

"That's hard to tell; Not unless I kill you first, but uh, I think we'll still be together, and so will the band. I guess it's just up to the rest of us." Josh hummed at your input. He flipped over on his side to look at you. "I hope we're together forever." Your face started to blush, although you doubt Josh could see, this time you wished he did.

"Me too." Your voice came out with full confidence knowing every ounce of you could never let him go. "Hey, do you think you'd ever let me wear your outfits after this next tour? They're kind of stylish if I say so myself." Josh laughed out loud. "I don't think they'd fit you, honey." You scoffed, pouting.

"Josh, I hate to break it to you but you're not that big." A playful laugh escaped your mouth while you pinched his arm. He pushed you back in return. "I meant your height." He shook his head. You turned around, allowing Josh to trap you in his arms.

"I hope I get to see you in heaven. If there is one." The sound of his voice made you want to cry. It was soft whisper that it felt so delicate at this moment.

"I think if you've seen me then, you will see me forever."

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #sam kiskza #jake kiszka #danny wagner #jake gvf #josh kiszka x reader

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dickspeightjrs · 3 years

Text

Better Than Regretting (au / 2.5k words / secret relationship / arranged marriage)

ao3 link

“You marrying a woman? Now that’s something I’d like to see,” Dean laughed from where he was stretched out on Castiel’s bed.

Castiel stopped his pacing across the room to glare at Dean. “This isn’t funny, Dean. My family are trying to arrange a marriage that I want no part of.”

Dean’s expression didn’t change and Castiel rolled his eyes. He wished his boyfriend would take things seriously sometimes.

There was no logical reason why Dean and Castiel would even know each other, let alone develop a relationship. And yet, here they were.

Castiel and his family came from old money. The wealthy life was all he ever knew. Though he would never call himself spoiled, Castiel knew he was privileged in more ways than one.

Dean, however, was orphaned at sixteen and was now helping to raise his younger brother, Sam, and send him to college in the fall.

They’d kept their relationship a secret from Castiel’s family from the beginning. Old money meant old traditions and Castiel knew his family wouldn’t approve of his sexuality or his choice of partner.

It worked for them for two years. Until now.

Upon him turning twenty-five, Castiel’s parents decided it was time for him to get married and they’d lined up a nice girl, Daphne, from a family that they knew from the country club. It just so happened that Castiel’s father also wanted to go into business with Daphne’s father. A coincidence that was not lost on Castiel.

“Come on, Cas,” Dean implored, “this is crazy. There’s no way you’re gonna marry this girl. I don’t care how much money her family has.”

Castiel was quiet, a million thoughts racing through his head. He was carefully avoiding Dean’s gaze.

“Wait,” Dean sat up straight on the bed. “You’re not thinking about actually going through with this?”

Castiel looked at Dean’s confused expression and quickly looked away again. “We could still see each other. It wouldn’t be any different to what we’re used to,” he murmured.

Dean stood up to come face to face with Castiel. He forced Castiel to make eye contact and looked into Castiel’s eyes with a pleading gaze.

“Cas, I love you,” Dean whispered. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I do. And I know you love me. You can’t do this.” He reached out a hand to hold Castiel’s.

“But my family.”

“Fuck your family, man.” Dean hissed. “They don’t care about you. If they did, they wouldn’t be doing this.”

“You know I can’t tell them about me, about us.” Castiel begged.

“For fuck’s sake, Cas. I’m not saying you gotta out yourself or tell them about us. I know how dangerous that could be for you.” Dean sighed. “Just stick up for yourself and tell them you want to live your own goddamn life!”

“It’s not that simple! I don’t see why we can’t just carry on as normal. You know I’ll never feel for her what I feel for you.”

“I know that. But to everyone else, everyone you know, she’ll be yours. And I don’t want to be the reason someone cheats on their wife.” Dean shook his head sadly. “That’s what my dad did to my mom, and you know how that ended. That poor girl you’re gonna marry doesn’t deserve that.”

“What are you saying, Dean?” Castiel asked, heart beating hard against his chest.

Dean sighed wearily. “I’m saying either tell your family to go fuck themselves, and come be with me and Sam. Or you stay with them and we end this.”

Castiel didn’t know what to do. He truly loved Dean more than anything. He wouldn’t take back one second of his time with him.

But he didn’t feel strong enough to leave his family. Castiel couldn’t imagine his father’s reaction if he said he wasn’t going to marry Daphne.

Castiel knew something like this would happen. His relationship with Dean was always too good to be true. They were too different. And those differences would always find a way to tear them apart.

Looking into Dean’s eyes as he made the realisation of Castiel’s decision was the most heart-breaking thing Castiel had ever witnessed.

Dean nodded to himself. He tried to avoid Castiel’s gaze but Castiel could see the tears forming in his boyfriend’s eyes.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Dean cleared his throat and looked back to Castiel. He took a deep, steadying breath and walked towards Castiel.

Castiel held his breath and stayed still.

Dean lifted a shaky hand to Castiel’s cheek and wiped away a tear Castiel didn’t realise was there. He looked lovingly into Castiel’s eyes before pulling him in for a soft kiss.

It was the most gut-wrenching kiss of Castiel’s life. It was a goodbye.

When Dean pulled away, he looked one last time into Castiel’s eyes, gave him a sad smile and moved away.

Castiel watched as Dean collected his jacket and keys. He watched as Dean walked out of his bedroom and didn’t look back.

Castiel remained frozen on the spot, tears now flowing freely down his face. He only moved when he could hear the deep rumble of Dean’s car starting up outside and fading into the distance.

Then he was left in silence.

* * *

Castiel felt sweat drip down his back under his shirt and suit jacket.

He hadn’t wanted to get married in the height of summer, but time had clearly been of the essence. The deal Castiel’s father made with Daphne’s family would only be complete once the wedding was over so Castiel’s father was eager to rush through the marriage. The wedding was set for a Saturday in late July – only two months after the initial engagement.

Which also meant two months since Castiel last saw and spoke to Dean.

He sighed a little in relief when the doors to the church opened, letting in a waft of air that, though wasn’t necessarily cool, was cooler than the oppressive heat of the church. Standing at the altar waiting for the ceremony to start was starting to feel like a lifetime in the sweltering heat. The doors were left wide open, along with the windows, to get an airflow through the building.

People were starting to arrive and take their seats. Castiel couldn’t say he even knew most of them. They all seemed to be associates of his father. Castiel didn’t have many friends and the only friends he did have he made through Dean. He hadn’t seen them for months either. Though, he didn’t blame them for staying with Dean.

He felt a wave of sickness go through him at the thought of Dean. He truly did miss him.

The feeling of a soft hand on his shoulder made him turn. It was his brother, Gabriel, the only person in the church who knew what Castiel was going through.

Soon into the beginning of their relationship, Dean and Castiel had been caught in Castiel’s bed by Gabriel.

Castiel had thought they were alone in the house. His parents had just left for a vacation and Gabriel was meant to be visiting friends. It turned out that those friends cancelled, and Gabriel came back to the house to hang out with his brother.

Castiel had panicked for a minute before Gabriel just laughed and held out a hand to Dean who had shaken it awkwardly, painfully aware of his near nakedness. After a little teasing and promising not to tell anyone, Gabriel had eventually left them alone.

Gabriel gave Castiel a reassuring smile and patted his shoulder. “Hang in there, bro.”

Castiel smiled nervously in response. He couldn’t muster the energy for anything else lest he break down and cry right in front of everyone.

He didn’t want to do this at all. He regretted what happened with Dean ever since it happened. But he knew he had to be loyal to his family. And Dean would never take him back now anyway. Castiel had thrown away any chance of that.

The priest walked up to Castiel. “The bride is here. We’re ready to begin.”

Castiel simply nodded and got into position. They’d rehearsed the wedding countless times so everything ran smoothly. Castiel had felt it a little unnecessary but he wasn’t going to argue with his father.

The music began and Castiel looked at the entrance to see Daphne walk down the aisle. She truly did look beautiful in her dress. Castiel felt another wave of nausea hit him at the thought of dragging her innocently into this mess.

The ceremony soon began. It was quiet around the church as the priest went through his sermon.

Castiel muted the words. Again, he hadn’t been involved much in the content of the ceremony. It all felt fake. Like if God was really looking down on them now, he’d curse Castiel for making a mockery of marriage.

Sweat once again dripped down Castiel’s back. He was sure he might just pass out from the sheer exhaustion of the heat and the thoughts rushing through his head. He hadn’t been right ever since Dean left.

Zoning out from the sermon completely, Castiel let himself drift to some of his favourite memories with Dean.

The sticky heat on his skin reminded him of last summer with Dean. He’d managed to convince his parents to go to their summer home without him. He’d had three whole months of summer without his parents and spent all that time with Dean.

Castiel remembered the warm smell of Dean’s skin against his own one night after they’d had sex. Dean was laughing at something Castiel had said that Castiel didn’t even intend to be funny. But Castiel never minded. Dean’s laugh was beautiful.

Dean had whispered against Castiel’s ear, as he placed delicate kisses along Castiel’s skin, that spending the summer with Castiel had been more than he could ever dreamed.

Castiel hadn’t understood at the time. He loved spending the summer with Dean too, but all they’d really done was hang out with his brother a little and take long drives in Dean’s Impala.

But now, he got it. It had been the simple things that Dean had treasured most. Castiel would give anything to be back in that car with Dean at his side, singing along to whatever rock album he’d put into the tape deck that day. They’d pull over, after a while, to a deserted area and trade lazy kisses until the sun started to fade in the sky. Then Dean would drive them back, this time with only the sound of the engine to accompany them.

Castiel was sure he could still hear the sweet rumble of the engine.

He blinked back to reality when he realised the priest had stopped talking and was looking past Castiel and frowning.

Castiel knew then that he wasn’t imagining the sound. The Impala could be heard roaring in the distance. And it was getting closer.

Frowning a little in confusion and barely daring to hope, Castiel turned and faced the same way as the priest. Daphne and many of guests also shifted to see what could be causing so much noise.

The frown left Castiel’s face when the shiny bonnet of a sleek black car pulled up onto to curb directly outside the church doors.

Castiel was frozen in place and held his breath as he saw Dean get out of the car and walk around to lean against the side door. He made eye contact with Castiel but otherwise made no move to enter the church.

Castiel could feel eyes start to turn back to him. No one knew of him and Dean but Castiel’s demeanour must have clued them in that Dean was there for him.

In his peripheral vision, Castiel noticed Sam in the backseat of the car. Boxes were piled up next to him.

Then it clicked.

Sam was going to Stanford for college. Dean was taking him and probably not coming back. This was Castiel’s last chance. Dean was giving him one last chance.

Castiel finally unglued his gaze from Dean and turned to Daphne next to him. She just gave him a small reassuring smile. Perhaps Castiel hadn’t given her enough credit when he’d thought she was just a naïve girl.

He turned to look at his brother stood behind him. Gabriel just grinned wildly, slyly, like he may have had something to do with this.

The priest cleared his throat and it spurred Castiel into action.

Regaining eye contact with Dean, he stepped down hesitantly from the platform.

The movement was tracked by Dean whose face went from one of determined nonchalance to one with a slight flicker of hope. It was a change that onlookers might not have noticed. But Castiel did. He knew Dean better than anyone.

It was the smallness of hope in Dean’s eye that made Castiel know he had all the information he’d ever need.

Without a second’s more hesitation, Castiel broke into a run, not looking back. He only kept his eyes on Dean as he saw the man’s face turn into an ever-widening grin.

The intense heat of the Kansas sun hit Castiel as he flew out of the church doors, but it was nothing compared to the sheer strength of the arms that immediately came up to wrap around Castiel’s body.

Castiel put his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, taking in his scent and reassuring himself that this was really happening.

Dean squeezed him again and breathed in Castiel’s scent too.

They were only broken apart by the sound of the window being lowered in the car and Sam’s voice coming out.

“Um, guys? I hate to break up the reunion, but Cas’ dad is coming, and he doesn’t look happy,” he warned.

With wide eyes, both men snapped out of their trance and turned to see Castiel’s father storming his way down the aisle, his face redder than Castiel had ever seen it. Gabriel was making a feeble attempt to calm their father down but the grin on his face betrayed his attempted determination.

Dean and Castiel quickly scrambled to get into the car.

Just as Castiel’s father reached the car and was about to open the passenger door, Dean turned the ignition and they peeled off down the street towards the highway.

Once they were clear of the church, Dean chuckled. “So Cas, how does California sound to you?”

Castiel looked at Dean and knew he was trying to hide his nerves. He reached over to grasp Dean’s hand. Castiel had let go of Dean once before. He was never going to do it again.

“It sounds perfect.”

Dean smiled and brought Castiel’s hand to his lips, not taking his eyes off the road in front of them. “Good.”

Castiel smiled too. But, despite the sure feeling that he’d finally done the right thing, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for leaving Daphne like that. She may not have been that happy with the arrangement either, but he felt bad for leaving her without a word. He thought that, perhaps when they arrived in California, he’d write her a letter explaining everything and hope she’d forgive him.

As if sensing Castiel’s thoughts, Dean gave Castiel’s hand a little squeeze and shot him a cheeky grin.

“Not having second thoughts already?” Dean teased.

“Never,” Castiel shook his head. “I’m glad you crashed the wedding.”

A/N: Based loosely on the song ‘Crashed the Wedding’ by Busted

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#destiel #destiel fic #dean winchester #castiel #destielfanficnet #myfic #fluff #angst #secret relationship #au #arranged marriage #2k

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imaginationintowords · 3 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

my tears ricochet

Modern Day AU! Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff; Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album Folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years

[warnings: death, and funeral]

word count: 4829

[a/n: sorry for such a long wait. I've been busy. I thought once I was done for the semester I would have a lot more time to work on my stories, but if anything my summer break has been more hectic. Just because I haven't been posting, doesn't mean I haven't been working on them. Just know that I am working on the new chapters for this and for TKWBA, just need a bit of patience from you all. Also thank-you for the continue love and support on all my work]

Series Masterlist

Tag list info here [if you want to be tagged please read this]

Age: 21

Year: Sep. 2015

Location: Brooklyn, NY & Stanford, CA

Elizabeth was sat at her desk doing her homework. She was anxiously waiting for Steve's call about the baby arriving. He had called her two hours prior to let her know that Natasha had gone into labor, and they were at the hospital. Steve told her that he'd call her as soon as he heard the news. She tried her hardest to focus on her homework, but she found herself constantly checking her phone for any updates.

Suddenly her phone started going off. She instantly picked it up and answered the call.

"Is the baby here?" She immediately asked.

"Liz," Steve choked out.

"Steve, what's wrong?" She could hear the distress in his voice.

"Natasha, she," he tried to say but the words got caught in his throat, and she could hear the soft cries.

"Steve, breathe," she tries to calm him down the best she could without actually physically being with him.

Elizabeth was simultaneously trying to keep herself calm, and not rush into any assumptions.

"She died," he said after calming himself down enough to tell her what happened.

"She died?"

"I guess there were complications, he tells her, still unsure of what exactly happened.

Steve hadn't thought to ask further into what exactly happened when Bucky's mom called to tell him the devastating news. He couldn't wrap his head around what she was telling him. He just never imagined that this would be the outcome of his best friend welcoming his first child into the world.

Steve clears his throat trying to force the lump back down.

"I'm catching the next flight out to New York," he tells Elizabeth, "I just gotta be there for Bucky."

"Yeah, of course," she says, completely understanding.

"I know you can't exactly fly out now, without letting your professors know, so as soon as I find out all the funeral," his throat catches at the word, he takes a small breath, "all the funeral information I'll let you know."

"Okay that works," she agrees.

"Okay. I haven't to pack real quick and get to the airport within the next hour," he tells her.

"Okay, I'll let you go."

"Wait, Steve," she calls out before he could hang up.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she says with a shaky voice.

"I love you too, so much," he says, "I'll text you when I board the plane."

After one final goodbye, Steve hangs up the phone.

The flight seemed like Steve's longest one he's ever been on. As soon as he landed he quickly grabbed his carry on, the only thing aside from his backpack that he brought with him. Elizabeth had messaged him letting him know that she could bring more of his stuff once she flies out.

Steve made his way out of the airport to find his mom waiting for him by her car. He quickly made his way towards her and wrapping his arms around her.

On the drive to Bucky's apartment Steve sent Liz a text letting her know he landed. He then called Bucky's mom to let her know he was on the way.

"Thank-you for coming out Steve," Winnie thanks him, "The baby is just about to get discharged, we should be at the apartment before you get there."

"Of course, I'll see you guys soon," he says hanging up the phone.

Steve then sends a quick email to his boss and professors explains his absence and why he'll most likely be gone for a couple of weeks.

An hour later Steve's mom was stopping outside of Bucky's building.

"Let them know I'm here if they need anything," his mom tells him before he exists the car, "I'll come back at noon with lunch for everyone."

"Thanks Mom," he says leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Steve exists the car leaving his bags with his mom. He takes one final breath before walking to the front doors. Steve presses the call button for Bucky's apartment and was immediately buzzed in.

As soon as he reaches Bucky's door, he knocks quietly. The door opens and he's welcomed by Rebecca. He takes in the sullen face on the teenage girl.

"Hey Bec," he says.

"Hi," she quietly says, as they hug each other in the door way.

When they pull apart she steps aside letting him inside.

"It's just my parents and I here. Bucky didn't want to deal with a lot of people right now," she explains to Steve.

"Steve," he hears from his left, Keith, Bucky's stepdad makes his way out of the small kitchenette over to him, and embracing him, "Thank-you so much for coming. We know you're a very busy person."

Before Steve could respond Bucky's mom Winnie walks into the living room.

"Oh Steve," she immediately wraps her arms around him.

"Thank-you so much for coming on such a short notice," she says. Steve could hear the shakiness in her voice. He could tell she was trying to keep it together. No doubt the last 12 hours being the most stressful and emotional she's ever been.

"There's no need to thank me. This is where I need to be," he tells them.

"Let us at least pay you back for the flight," Keith says.

"No, don't worry about that," Steve waves him off, "I had a lot of miles that needed to be used."

"Well, thank-you again," Keith nods his head, understanding where Steve was coming from.

"You can go on ahead Steve. Bucky is waiting for you in the nursery," Winnie tells him, giving him an assuring nod, he nods back making his way towards the nursery.

The short walk seemed like it was much longer. Steve has never felt so nervous in his life. When he approaches the closed door, he softly knocks on it.

"Come in," Bucky calls from inside.

Steve walks in, closing the door behind him. He's immediately greeted by Bucky sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room, feeding his newborn daughter.

"Hey," Steve softly says, not sure what to say.

"Hey," Bucky greeted Steve with a sad smile.

It had been 12 hours later and it still didn't feel real to Bucky. The hospital had even offered the chance for him and Poppy to stay a couple of days, but all Bucky wanted to do was to go home and get away from the hospital. But now being back in the apartment without Natasha was surreal. He was trying his best to keep it all in, at least while the baby is awake and needs him.

He was determined in being the one that cared for her, even when his mom offered to take care of her for a few hours while he gets some rest. He assured her that he needed to do this. He had to do it alone, because he knew that soon enough it would just be him and Poppy.

Bucky was very grateful when he heard Steve was flying out. He felt like Steve was the only one he could really talk to about everything going on.

Steve was still standing by the door, just watching his best friend be a dad for the first time. He had no idea what to say in this kind of situation. The words were caught in his throat the moment he actually saw Bucky.

"Thanks for coming," Bucky says breaking the silence. Steve immediately looks away from the baby to meet Bucky's eyes.

"You would've done the same thing," Steve says, "And like I've said before, I'll always be here for you."

"I don't care how far, I'll always be on that first flight to you," Steve continues, he glances down at the now sleepy baby, "You're my brother Buck."

There was a moment of silence between the young men. Both understanding what the other one means with such few words.

Steve watched as Bucky gently placed the sleepy baby on his shoulder to burp her.

"It suits you," Steve quietly remarks.

"What?" Bucky looked up at him confused.

"Fatherhood, it suits you," Steve says again, stepping closer to his friend.

"You think?" Bucky looks back down at the now sleeping baby.

"Yeah. I know it's only been less than a day, but you look natural. Make it look easy."

"Thanks," Bucky smiled, getting up for the he chair and walking over to the crib to gently place Poppy in.

Steve walked over, standing next to Bucky, watching the little one sleep peacefully.

"What's her name?" Steve whispered, realizing that he hadn't found out what the name of the baby was.

"Poppy James Barnes," Bucky proudly says.

"That's cute," Steve commented, he placed his right hand on Bucky's left shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

Bucky looked over at Steve and they both nodded their heads in agreement, before falling into an embrace.

"I am so sorry," Steve quietly says.

"It happened so quick, she barely even got to see the baby," Bucky quietly cried into Steve's shoulder, "I never even thought of this would be the outcome. I never imagined I'd be coming home solo with the baby."

Steve tightened his embrace on Bucky, just listening to his friend.

"I don't know how I'm going to do this Steve. I don't know how I'm going to raise her without her mom. I'm trying to keep it together to not worry my mom, but fuck Steve, I don't know what I'm doing. I'm scared I'll screw this all up. I'm scared I'll screw her up.

"I'm so scared Steve," Bucky cries.

"It's okay to be scared," Steve tries his best to comfort Bucky, "I'd be more concerned if you weren't scared. This is entirely new territory for you. You're raising a child, a child who unfortunately no longer has her mother. That alone is a fucking terrifying thing to go through.

"It's not going to be easy. There's no point in lying to you, and saying it will. You and I both that won't be the truth. But if there's anyone I know who could do this, it's you Buck. You're the strongest person I know. Whatever has happened before this doesn't matter. The only thing that matters now is that little girl. And I know damn well you're going to give her the best life she will ever have," Steve pulls away from Bucky and holds onto his shoulders.

"And you're not alone in this. You have a lot of people who care about you, and now Poppy. You will never be alone. You'll always have someone to call, someone to help you. You're crazy to think we would ever leave you to do this alone. We're here, and we're not going anywhere. You and Poppy will never have to be alone. She might not have her mom, but she's got you, and I know damn well you won't ever let her wonder what being without one parent truly feels like.

"You've got this Buck," Steve assures him, "And we're here every step of the way."

"Thanks Steve," Bucky sniffles, wiping the tears away.

"No need to thank me," Steve smiles, "Now why don't you go take a nap. Get some rest. We're here if Poppy wakes up."

"Yeah I could use some sleep," Bucky yawns, his adrenaline from the last 12 hours fading away.

Steve walks Bucky to his bedroom and watches as he gets into his bed, and quickly falls asleep. He quietly closes the door behind him, with the baby monitor in one hand checking to make sure Poppy is still asleep.

He walks back into the living room, placing the monitor by the tv for everyone to see and hear.

"They're both asleep," Steve announces to the room.

"Oh thank goodness," Winnie sighs, "James hasn't taken a moment to rest since everything happened."

"Knowing Bucky, we'll probably have to be forcing him to rest for the next couple of weeks," Steve says.

"I just got off of the phone with Natasha's father," Keith said walking back inside the apartment.

"What did he say?" Winnie asked.

"He said that the funeral is all up to us," Keith sighs, "Something about how Natasha made her own path with getting pregnant, and that once she left she was no longer his responsibility."

"He really said that?" Winnie asked mortified.

"I'm afraid so," Keith sighed, "I tried reasoning with him saying we would handle everything financially and he can come to the funeral but he said no."

"What kind of father doesn't show up to his own daughter's funeral," Winnie shakes her head in complete disbelief.

"Explains why Natasha was the way she was," Rebecca whispered, so that only Steve could hear her.

He reluctantly agrees.

Two weeks later

Elizabeth was helping Steve with his tie in his childhood bedroom. She had flown in yesterday for today's funeral services. Elizabeth had gotten in late last night, so she still hasn't seen Bucky or Poppy yet. She was a let to get a week off of work and her professors gave her an extension on her assignments when she explained to them what happened.

"I still can't believe Natasha's dad isn't going," she says as she straightens out Steve's tie.

"Bucky's mom is still holding out hope that he shows up," Steve says.

"What does Bucky think of it all?" Elizabeth asks.

"He's not worrying about it," Steve explains, looking over himself in the mirror, "His only concern right now is Poppy and only Poppy. If Nat's dad shows up then he does. But as of now Bucky has made the decision that he will not be in Poppy's life. Not until he proves himself."

"That's very mature," she says grabbing her purse.

"This Buck is like a whole new one you've never seen before. Fatherhood has made him a thousand times more grown up these last couple of weeks."

"That's good."

"Ready to go?" Steve asked her, grabbing the keys to his mom's car.

"Yup," Elizabeth says following Steve out.

Bucky had asked Steve to pick him and Poppy up, and Steve had of course agreed.

They arrived to Bucky's apartment in fifteen minutes. Walking up to Bucky's door they could hear a lot of commotion coming from inside. Steve used the key Bucky gave him to let himself and Elizabeth in.

As soon as they walked in they were greeted by the sounds of a baby crying.

"Buck?" Steve called out.

"We're in here," he calls from the nursery.

They go to the nursery to find Bucky looking frazzled while trying to change Poppy's diaper.

"I'm so sorry. I'm running so behind," Bucky tells them, glancing over his shoulder quickly,

"Poppy didn't sleep well last night. And nothing I've tried has been working."

"It's okay Buck, just take your time," Steve calmly says.

"I still need to shower, shave, and get dressed," Bucky rambles, "She's going to need another change of clothes because she spat all over herself, and my mom only bought this one outfit for today."

"Hey Bucky, calm down," Elizabeth calmly spoke up, placing her hand on his back, "Take a breath."

Bucky felt the warmth and comfort from Liz's touch. He listens to what she says and takes a deep breath.

"Okay good," she says, "now you go get ready. Steve and I got this."

"Okay," he nods his head, handing the baby over to Elizabeth, "thank-you."

"Of course," she softly smiles at him, "now go get ready."

Bucky quickly makes his way out of the room and into his own to get ready.

Elizabeth looks down at the small baby in her arms. She could see so much of Bucky in the baby with hints of Natasha. It was a little strange for her to be holding Bucky's baby and it not being her baby as well. Not that she ever wanted to get back together with Bucky, because she didn't. There was just a little voice in her head, that of her teenage self, saying how it was supposed to be them, doing this together.

She quickly shut the voice down.

Elizabeth was incredibly sympathetic of Bucky's situation. All she wanted to do was be there for him, as a friend. She wanted Bucky to succeed as a father, and she would do what she could to make that happen.

Steve silently watched Elizabeth watching Poppy. He couldn't really read her expression. He hates to admit it to himself, especially with everything going on, but he was slightly worried about how Liz would react to all of this. He had faith in their relationship, of course he trusted her immensely. But he still couldn't help but feel like she might decide to leave him for Bucky. Elizabeth turned around to see Steve looking at her with a distant look in his eyes.

"You good?" She gently asked, breaking him from his self-destructive thoughts.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah," she nods her head, handing the baby over to him, "I'm going to try and find her a new outfit.

"Okay," Steve says sitting down with the baby.

"I love you," Liz quietly says to Steve, knowing what could possibly going through his mind, if hers was also wandering.

"I love you," Steve replies back, finding himself relaxing at just hearing those three words, any doubt slipping away.

30 minutes later Bucky was ready to go. He walked out to the living room where he found Steve and Elizabeth sitting with each other holding the baby. He paused for a moment taking in the scene in front of him. He felt a sense of warmth and low flow through him as his closest friends admire his daughter. In that moment he knew he had made the right decision in what he would tell them next.

Steve glanced up to see Bucky leaning against the frame of the hallway.

"Ready?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, but I actually wanted to ask you two something before we go," Bucky says walking over and sitting on a chair next to the couch.

"Sure, what's up?" Steve leans forward, leaning on his knees, giving Bucky his full attention.

Elizabeth tears her eyes away from Poppy to also give Bucky her full attention. She smiles at him, letting him know he could continue on.

"I first and foremost just want to thank you Steve, for what probably is the hundredth time," Bucky says, "I know you have a lot going on with work and school. So I really appreciate everything you've done for me and for Poppy. And you too Elizabeth, I know you're incredibly busy especially with law school prep. And with everything that's happened between-"

"Don't," she stopped him, "What's past is past."

"Well anyways, thank-you," Bucky says, "Now here comes what I wanted to ask you two. There's no other two people I wouldn't trust more with Poppy. So I wanted to ask if you would be her godparents?"

"Really?" Elizabeth asked taken back by Bucky's request.

"Yes," he nods his head, "There's no one else I wouldn't trust with her if anything happens. It'll help me sleep better knowing she'll have two people who'll love her like I would. Two people who have so much love between them, that I know will always be together."

Both Steve and Elizabeth were taken back by Bucky's last statement. They knew Bucky had accepted their relationship, but to actually have him not only say it out loud but to practically give them his blessing, it meant the world to the couple.

Steve and Elizabeth both share a look with tears glistening in their eyes. Elizabeth nods her head.

Steve turns back to Bucky, "We'd be honored to be Poppy's godparents."

Elizabeth and Steve stood up to hug Bucky. All filled with a wide range of emotions. Bucky felt a huge sense of comfort after asking Liz and Steve to be Poppy's godparents. He knew he made the right decision, and he knew he could now sleep better at night knowing his daughter would be taken care of. And by two people he knows can love her the way he does.

After what happened with Natasha, Bucky just wanted to make sure Poppy would be taken care of. If she couldn't have her parents, then she would have the closest thing to having parents. And Bucky knows Steve and Elizabeth would be amazing parents.

That alone allowed him to be at peace for whatever may happen.

Arriving to the funeral location Bucky felt his nerves start to spike. He sat in the backseat looking out the window at the familiar faces walking into the chapel.

"You okay?" Elizabeth asked turning in her seat, after Steve parked the car.

"I don't know if I can do this," he mutters, glancing towards the sleeping baby in the car seat next to him.

"We'll be right next to you along the entire way," Liz calmly says.

"If you feel too overwhelmed we'll leave whenever you want," Steve tells him, "We won't stay if you absolutely can't handle it. No one will hold it against you."

"Okay," Bucky takes a deep breath.

"Stay here, I'll get the stroller out," Steve says, getting out of the car.

"No one is expecting you to be brave, Buck," Elizabeth says, "You're allowed to be vulnerable. You're allowed to show emotions."

He nods his head, taking in what she's telling him.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small necklace. Clutching onto it as if his life depended on it.

Elizabeth catches the small 'N' on it, realizing that that was the necklace Natasha wore everyday since she was 13.

Bucky takes one final deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"Okay, I'm ready," he tells her.

"Okay, let's do this."

Bucky was grateful that they arrived only minutes before the service started. Everyone was already seated in the pews.

He slowly walked down the aisle pushing the stroller, Steve and Elizabeth walking right behind him.

Bucky tried his best to avoid any eye contact with everyone. He couldn't bare to look at the pity in their eyes.

He caught sight of his family siting in the second row. He also noticed a man sitting alone in the first row.

He instantly knew who it was.

Once Bucky reached the first row, the man made to movement to greet Bucky.

Bucky cleared his throat, "Mr. Romanoff."

The older man looked over at Bucky, then at the stroller.

"James," he stiffly said, turning his attention back to the front.

Bucky awkwardly sat down placing the stroller next to his legs, away from Natasha's father, while Steve and Elizabeth sat next to Bucky.

The service was going smoothly up until the priest announced that Natasha's father would be making a speech, catching everyone off guard.

Bucky looked at the older man as he walked up to the stand. He turned around to face his mom, "Did you know this?" he whispered.

"No I didn't," she shook her head.

Right as Mr. Romanoff was about to start speaking, Poppy began to cry. Bucky quickly went to get her out of the stroller, while Steve quickly went to grab a bottle to help him out.

As soon as the baby calmed down Mr. Romanoff began to speak.

"First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for coming," he begins, "I really appreciate it. Natasha would be eternally grateful for all of you."

Bucky started to get annoyed by the beginning of Mr. Romanoff's speech. As if the man didn't turn down the invitation for the last two weeks. Now he's trying to act like the perfect father, as if he didn't kick her out and cut off his pregnant daughter.

"Natasha was a kind hearted person. Only wanting the best for those closest to her. She was the most selfless person you would have ever met," he continued on with his speech.

Elizabeth couldn't help but be confused by Mr. Romanoff's speech. She hated thinking ill of the dead, but that man had no idea who his daughter truly was.

"Natasha was so smart, earning her way into Yale. She was only months away from graduating. I was so incredibly proud of her. If only we would've gotten the opportunity to watch her walk across the stage.

"Other than leaving an everlasting impression on all of us, she also left behind a part of her. Her last moments on Earth was spent bringing in another Romanoff," he says.

Bucky's head snapped up to Mr. Romanoff, then towards Steve.

"Romanoff?" Bucky whispered, "This man has the fucking nerve."

"Ignore him," Steve whispered back, trying to calm Bucky down, "He's just saying all of this to make himself look good."

"Natasha brought her daughter into the world," Mr. Romanoff continued, forcing fake tears to fall, "I remember being by her side as she was in labor."

Bucky clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to call Mr. Romanoff out on his lies.

"As she was dying," Mr. Romanoff paused for dramatic effect, "Her only request was to name her daughter after her."

Steve paled his hand on Bucky's shoulder, trying his best to calm him down. It was too late, Bucky was already placing Poppy in Steve's arms.

"What a fucking lie," Bucky stood up shouting at Mr. Romanoff, causing everyone to gasp.

"James," Mr. Romanoff said through gritted teeth, as a warning.

"How could you just lie to all these people?" Bucky shouted, "How could you lie as if you didn't disown Natasha months prior when she told you she was pregnant. Or when my parents kept inviting you to the funeral, you kept saying no and how Natasha's decisions led to their death. How dare you say you were in the delivery room. As if you didn't have her number blocked. My mom and I were there when things took a horrible turn. We were there when the doctor walked out and told us Natasha didn't make it. Not you! Us!

"Then you go on to make some shitty story about Nat's last words. Which is completely false. Natasha never wanted to name the baby after herself, you'd actually know that if you were actually present in her life. But you weren't. And you sure as hell will never be a part of your granddaughter's life."

Bucky turned to Steve and Liz, "Let's go."

They nodded their heads and helped put Poppy in the stroller. They followed Bucky as he walked out of the chapel.

After leaving the funeral services, Steve was able to calm Bucky down. Winnie had called Elizabeth to let her know that the burial services the next day were officially going to be private. Liz agreed that that'd be best for everyone involved. Especially with what happened during the funeral services.

The burial service was only attended by Bucky, and his family, along with Elizabeth and Steve.

Everything went along smoothly. Everyone giving Bucky the safe space to grieve.

After the burial, everyone gave Bucky a few moments alone at the grave site so he can say his final goodbyes.

"Hey Nat," he pauses taking a deep breath, "these last two weeks haven't been the easiest. But boy have they been amazing. I may be more exhausted than I've ever been, but boy is she worth it.

"She may only be two weeks but I can already tell she's going to be the most amazing person ever," he softly cries, "You would've loved her so much. But like I promised back at the hospital, she'll never not know who her mother was. I will always make sure she knows who you were. Always."

"Goodbye Natasha," he whispered, before walking away to join his family waiting.

Age: 26

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: 2020

"Daddy, what's this?" Poppy calls out to her father from his bedroom.

"What's what petal?" He asked walking into the room, finding her surrounded by boxes, as they prep for their move uptown.

"This," she holds up the small necklace with the 'N'.

Bucky kept that necklace in a small box in his nightstand. He kept it at the bottom of his nightstand for safe keepings. Planning on one day to give it to his daughter. He always planned to wait until she was 16, but he figures now is as good as ever.

"That was your mommy Natasha's," he said walking over to her, and sitting next to her on his bed, "She got it when she was 13, and wore it every day up until when she died."

"It's pretty," she says admiring it in her hands.

"It is isn't it," he smiles at his little girl, "It's now yours."

He grabs the necklace from her little hands. He unclasps it, then gently moves her dirty blonde hair to the side. He places the necklace around her neck, and clasps it shut.

"Thank-you daddy," she smiles brightly at her father, admiring the necklace that now lay on her chest.

Bucky smiled at his daughter, watching as she kept admiring the necklace. It was a little big on her, but he knew she would grow into it.

"Anything for you baby," he kisses the top of her head, "Anything."

63 notes · View notes

sanaboo · 3 years

Text

Blackpink & Jealousy

Pairings: Jennie x Reader, Lalisa x Reader, Rosè x Reader, Jisoo x Reader

Jennie 💛

Jennie’s no stranger to jealousy. She’s probably the most jealous of all the girls combined.

She’s also not shy about expressing her jealousy, especially in front of the person she’s jealous of.

You were behind the scenes of a photoshoot for the girls new album cover, handling the makeup and overall look of the girls’. Jennie, as always, looked flawless. While you were focused on watching the girls’ work the camera and get the shots they needed, a fill-in producer, who was in temporarily since their normal producer was out sick for the day, had other ideas. Instead of doing what she needed to do, watching the girls’ and making sure everything was going smoothly, she was flirting with you, Jennie’s partner.

“Well aren’t you a cutie!” She greeted you, “Are you sure you shouldn’t be in front of that camera right now? You’re just the cutest thing.”

You were met with a feeling of upmost disgust and uncomfortableness. “Uhm... thank you? I’m just their makeup artist...” You replied, trying your best to show you weren’t up for conversation. The girl didn’t seem to notice or care for your tone of voice.

“You and I should go out to dinner sometime. I know all the best places in the city.” She said softly, running her fingers softly over your arm. Everybody was focused on the current photoshoot, so there was seemingly no way out.

“I really can’t do that...” You replied, moving your arm away from her. “I’m currently dating someone.” She only smiled.

“They don’t have to know.” She said with a small grin. Jennie, who was watching the whole situation unfold, walked away from her group members on break and made her way to the two of you.

“Jagi!” Jennie greeted you, going on her tippy-toes to sit up on the chair on your lap. You immediately wrapped your arms around her waist to keep her in place. “You should be over watching us! I always feel really confident when you’re with me.” She then placed a kiss on your lips softly.

“Yeah, I’ll come watch.” You said with a smile as you lightly kissed her cheek. The girl was practically fuming. “And about that dinner date, I already have dinner plans with someone I love.”

Both you and Jennie stood up and walked away, back towards the main photoshoot area. The girl stormed off in the other direction to do whatever she wanted. You grinned once you both were away from the situation. “Someone was a little jealous.” You teased.

Jennie huffed and placed a kiss to your cheek. “I just don’t like people flirting with my love.”

Lalisa 🖤

Lisa is the definition of “silent but deadly”. You can feel her jealous stare from across the room.

The type to scare someone off with just a simple look.

Lisa could feel her nails digging into her thigh as he watched the love of her life be flirted with by someone other than her. The fan signing event was nearly over, and as much as she loved talking with her fans, she had someone else to deal with in a less kind way. The group waved goodbye to their fans and while the other three girls continued chatting amongst themselves, Lisa made her way towards you and the woman flirting with her lover. As she approached closer, you noticed her right away and smiled at the sight of her. The woman, however, did not.

“You are so attractive...” She said, “Maybe we should get out of here and you know... have some fun on our own.” Lisa’s anger only grew when she noticed just how uncomfortable you looked.

“Thank you, but i’d really rather not.” You replied, clearly uninterested in the woman beside you. Lisa folded her arms and silently glared.

“Come on, I know how to have a good time.” The woman continued with her advances, that clearly weren’t working. “Even if it’s just a one night thing, I really don’t mind...” You looked over at Lisa with pure desperation in your eyes. Lisa cleared her throat.

“Y/N’s far to nice to say this to your face, so i’ll say it for them.” Lisa spoke up. The woman turned around and her eyes widened. “They’re not interested in someone who couldn’t please someone if they tried. Back off.”

The woman bowed and scurried off without a goodbye. Lisa wrapped her arms around your waist and pulled you close, placing a light kiss on the tip of your nose. “Nobody bothers my baby.”

Rosè / Chaeyoung 🤎

Rosè is definitely more petty about her jealousy. She won’t hesitate to give you the silent treatment if it looked like you were flirting back.

Don’t worry, give her a couple kisses and tell her how much you love her and she’ll be back to normal.

“Chaeyoung.” You addressed your girlfriend, who was currently ignoring you. “For the eighth time, I was not flirting back to her.” Silence.

You took a deep breath, sitting on the couch beside Rosè, who was turned away from you with her chin in her hand.

“Chaeyoung, please.” You said in desperation, “I really wasn’t flirting with her, I promise on my life.” Rosè only turned up her nose and ignored you more.

In a last resort to get her to even react to your presence, you wrapped an arm around her waist and laid a hand on her thigh. “Jagi~” You purred into her ear. Rosè could feel her entire body relax and be hypnotized by your voice. “Please don’t ignore me any longer...”

Rosè gave in and turned her body around to face you, wrapping her arms around your waist loosely and hugging into you, placing her head on your chest. “You really didn’t flirt back to her?” She asked softly.

“Of course not. I wouldn’t dream of ever being unloyal to you. You are my one and only, Chaeyoung.”

Jisoo 🤍

Jisoo is the most calm of all of them. As much anger as she feels, she never brings it out on anyone.

She just steals you away from the person wanting your heart, your heart is already hers.

“Y/N... I’ve had a crush on you for a very long time...” The girl in front of you mumbled, looking down at her shoes. “Would you be my partner?”

You were speechless. Didn’t she know you were in a relationship with Jisoo, or even care? Clearly not, because when Jisoo walked over, all dressed up for your date that night, the girl snapped.

“Can’t you see we’re busy?” She snapped at Jisoo, who only stared at her. Anger was rushing through her veins, but she couldn’t let it show. “Just back off, I was talking to them first.”

“Oh, I apologize.” Jisoo replied with a small smile. It was a talent how she managed to stay so calm all the time. “Darling, why don’t you finish up denying this girl your love and we’ll get going for our date, sound good with you?”

The girl’s mouth dropped open in pure shock. You bowed quickly to her before following Jisoo towards the car that would bring you both to your date destination. As you both sat in the car, you wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she laid her head on your shoulder.

Jisoo played with your fingers absentmindedly. “Nobody can take your heart from me darling, it’s already mine, and I don’t plan on giving it up.”

262 notes · View notes

talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

stuck with u-- calum hood oneshot

a/n: hii! so this came outta left field but I went with it. based off of ariana grande’s song with justin bieber. very loosely edited, but yeah, I hope you like it :)

word count: 4,111

warnings: mentions of quarantine, a break up, sweet moments, male receiving oral, female receiving oral, spitting, unprotected sex, funny sexual moments

Masterlist

Feedback is always welcome and enjoy! :)

• • • •

She came over to return his box of things, giving herself a pep talk before she did. It’s a few days before their new album releases and two weeks before touring begins. They always had an expiration date, this she knew, but she hadn’t put into consideration how badly it would sting.

Like any normal couple, they had their ups and downs with minor arguments here and there, but their stubbornness was the same. Neither one of them wanting to give in first left them each brooding in their separate corners until the bell struck for another round of heated words then they’d stalk off to their respective corners again.

It was a cycle that kept cycling until her eyes filled with tears or the steam finally sizzled out from them both. In exchange of heated words were the remaining apologies, words of kindness, and a conclusion to whatever their fight had been about.

She’s at a stoplight, Halsey’s magical voice surrounds her in her car, and she glances to the box in the passenger seat. A small notebook lays on top that holds small poems or songs he wrote for her, about her. It was given to her on her birthday, but she couldn’t keep it now, not when their time is up. Next to the notebook is his green Empathy hoodie she stole awhile ago and on top of that is a small stuffed bear he won at a fair.

A car horn pulls her from her reverie, and she continues the familiar roads to his house. After dropping off his things and getting hers back from him, she was heading back home to spend time with her family so the back part of her car was full of duffel bags and her pillows.

She stares at his house, suddenly it seems so daunting as memories swim in her head. Countless nights of wandering through the front door after a night out or at Michael and Crystal’s for a small party. Mornings of coffee and breakfast created by him filled with whipped cream and syrupy kisses. Her eyes sting with tears and she shakes her head quickly. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry another tear over him.

She checks her phone to see a comforting message from Crystal of good luck and a safe drive home with many heart emojis.

“You can do this; you can do this. In and out and he’s behind you,” she mutters to herself then grabs his box of belongings.

Before she can ring the doorbell, he opens it and Duke is barking at his feet, jumping up on the glass trying to get to her, his fluffy tail wagging joyously at her return. Her heart falls, she’s going to miss Duke a lot. Calum opens the door.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice gruff and scratchy. She hopes he’s not starting to get sick; he needs to rest—

She stops herself short, it’s not her concern anymore.

“Hi,” she says quietly and enters the house. Her shoulder brushes his chest, they both tense and his aftershave invades her nose. The smell of him and him alone brings back more memories of cuddling by the fire, snuggling on the couch, walking up behind him while he’s making dinner and burying her face between his shoulder blades.

Duke continues to vie for her attention as she moves into the kitchen. The news is on with the volume down low, numbers and the word ‘China lockdown’ traveling across the bottom of the screen. She sets the box down on the counter with a thump then squats to her knees to give Duke a proper hello and goodbye.

“I’ll um, go get your stuff. Help yourself to something to drink.”

“I’m gonna miss your cuddles, Dukey,” she whispers to the old dog and kisses his nose. He licks her chin in return.

She stands and waits, not even bothering to get a drink because she doesn’t plan to stay long. Why does he want to prolong their goodbye? She leans against the counter waiting for Calum’s return and she realizes she’s in the same spot from months ago where she tried to prepare him dinner for once.

He was being exceptionally affectionate, lifting her arm so he could press his lips to her wrist then slowly down to her elbow—

“I think I have everything,” his voice startles her from the good memory. “I made sure you didn’t leave any of your books behind.”

“Thanks,” she gives him a grim smile taking the box from his hands. Their fingers brush, his heat always made her forever cold fingers warm. A shock ran through her fingertips.

The pair stare into their boxes respectively, shuffling through memories of their relationship.

“This isn’t mine,” Calum holds up the small notebook of songs and poems. “I gave this to you as a gift, Y/N.”

She stares at the book of words in his hand, words of love and light reserved for her only.

“I can’t keep it, Cal,” she whispers, eyes pooling with tears. She tries to blink them away and on instinct Calum moves forward. She backs up into the corner of the counter. “No, don’t. Please.”

“Y/N…”

“It’s hard enough, Cal, all right? I know our time was limited,” she crosses her arms over her chest, “but I’m still hurting and I’m probably going to hurt for a while longer.”

“You think I’m not hurting, too? This was—is the hardest breakup. I’m hurting, Y/N, I am.”

She risks a glance up at him to see the wounded look in his eyes. Calum shifts forward, his hands cradling her face gently in his palms, his forehead pressed to hers. She dares not to move, because once she touches him then it’s all over. There’s no way she could recover from that.

“Look at me,” his lips kiss her forehead, another stab at her heart. She shakes her head. “Baby—”

The news anchor’s voice interrupts their moment declaring the state of California has issued a lockdown effective immediately. No one is to leave their homes for any reason, no going to other houses, no contact with anyone. The world shut down and now they’re stuck together.

It’s awkward at first, moving her things from her car into his house. She decided to stay in the guest bedroom, no matter how badly she wanted to crawl into his bed and never leave. He was on the phone with the guys and management discussing what this means for their album release and tour well late into the night while she contacted her family.

She could do two weeks with her ex, nothing tricky about that, right?

She was wrong. The first week was rough, they bounced around each other like meteorites trying not to collide. When he’d walk around the house shirtless she had to force herself not to stare. More memories and the ache to run her fingers over his tattoos was too strong. They ate in separate rooms and tried to remain separate as much as possible.

She watched the live he did with the band for their album release, listening along with them and crying at songs she knew Calum wrote. Small nods to their relationship tugged at her heart.

The second week things were looking up because she would be leaving soon. The smell of him would linger on all of her clothes a lot longer now, but she needed to get out. She needed to get over him and that’s hard to do when you’re stuck under the same roof.

Plans had changed yet again, and she’d be with him a lot longer. Tour has been cancelled and in the process of being rescheduled as much as it can be. Calum has been stressed; she feels it radiating off him one morning while he’s sat at the kitchen table. His coffee cup is still full, his shoulders hunched to his neck from stress.

Without thinking, she moves behind him and rubs at his shoulders. He jumps at her touch but then relaxes into her touch, letting her remove the stress that she can from his muscles.

“D’you want to talk about it?” she asks softly.

“Not really,” he shakes his head then sighs. “There is something I’d like to talk about though…”

“Yeah?” her thumbs rub up his neck into his hairline, his blond hairline that he re-dyed for the wildflower music video that never got filmed.

“Can we talk about us?” he asks. Her hands still their motions in his hair.

“What about us?”

He spins around, her hands falling from his warm skin. He takes her hand in his, fingers linked together like so many times before, his brown eyes captivating her. He swallows harshly.

“We’ve got all this time on our hands, might as well cancel all our plans we had and spend it together,” he says.

“Even if it’s just you and me?” she strokes his cheek with the backs of her fingers.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” he shakes his head. “I thought it was hard before but it’s even harder now with you here. I don’t want to let you go.”

“So…what does this mean exactly?”

“It’s just you and me,” he rises to his feet taking her other hand in his. “It means whatever we want it to.”

“Let’s have a date night, a new start,” she offers.

“That sounds good,” he smiles.

At around six o’clock, they meet in the kitchen wearing comfy clothes. Something they both agreed on to make the night even easier and more comfortable. She had on one of his shirts with shorts and socks that went up to her knees. He had on basketball shorts and a blue t-shirt; he remembers how she likes him in blue.

They were making dinner together, homemade pasta with sauce to match. A bottle of wine was opened, and their glasses were filled with the sweet nectar.

“Remember when we got poured out at the festival with Mike and Crys?” she laughs while stirring the sauce.

“We were so muddy,” he joins in her laughter. “Your hair was sopping but you looked adorable all muddy.”

“You wouldn’t join me in the puddle,” she nudges him.

“Because I didn’t want to get sick and guess who was in bed for four days with a cold?”

“Yeah but you took care of me,” she grins.

Calum takes her hand that doesn’t have the spoon in her hand and lifts it to his lips. With his eyes trained on hers, he kisses her fingers, kisses the center of her palm, then her wrist.

“I’d do it again, you know,” he murmurs on her skin. Goosebumps rise on her neck and all the way down her body. “Take care of you.”

Their eyes lock and the mood changes, the sauce bubbles as they lean in closer, closer, and closer still until—

The timer on the oven buzzes signifying it’s ready for the garlic bread. Calum sighs, gives her wrist one more kiss then returns to his task at hand. She’s left flustered and warm while she stirs the sauce then adds the noodles into the boiling water.

During dinner they had another glass of wine and joked about more memories together, dreams they wanted to do with one another. Unlike the first week she was there, their chairs were pushed as close as they could be at the table. Their plates were empty, and his arm was on the back of her chair.

“We should just rent a small camper and travel along the coast,” he says rubbing her neck with his thumb.

“Maybe we can afterwards,” she chuckles wiping off pasta sauce from his cheek. “When we can leave the house again.”

“Good point. So, since this is a first date, now it’s time to dance.”

She quirks an eyebrow up. “Dance? I’m in a t-shirt and knee-high socks.”

“Perfect dancing outfit come on. Up you get, little lady,” he tickles her neck as he rises from his chair. She giggles at his touch then is pulled from her own chair by his hand.

“There isn’t any music,” she laughs falling into his chest.

“Oh shit, hang on. Hey Alexa, play the Y/N playlist,” he says.

“Playing Y/N playlist on Spotify,” Alexa responds, and Ariana’s voice fills the house.

“You have a playlist for me?”

“Of course,” he grins then dips her down. She squeals from the sudden rush to her head as she’s tipped backwards, but Calum would never let her fall.

He pulls her back up, both of them giggling as they dance in the kitchen. Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, it’s getting longer and shaggier by the day. His curls are coming back, and she’s been itching to play with the soft twists.

“I’ve missed you,” he confesses.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers. Their eyes meet just as Justin Bieber’s voice croons in the speakers.

“My plan when you came over was to try and get back together, you know. Even before all of this happened, I was going to ask if you’d wait for me to come back from tour. I wasn’t going to let my stubbornness push away the best person that’s happened to me.”

“Cal…”

She cups his cheek the same time he leans down and presses his lips to hers. An electric surge courses through them as their kiss deepens. He grips her waist then lowers his hands to her ass giving her a hefty squeeze. She gasps at the contact and he slips his tongue in her mouth. Calum spins her around, lifting her up so she’s seated on the counter.

Her legs wrap around his waist, accordingly, pulling him as close to her as possible. The song changes to Lover of Mine just as his hands creep under her shirt. His fingers skim her skin, thumbs brushing over her soft nipples that turn hard upon his touch. He groans, giving her breasts a firm squeeze before lifting the shirt from her body.

Their eyes lock, lips red from their kiss. She traces his lower lip and he’s quick to duck his head down to suck on her neck. She gasps when his hand cups her sex, his thumb rubbing her core through the fabric while his mouth descends to her breasts. She bites her lip, but a small moan escapes her as he sucks on her nipple, his thumb moving in tantric circles.

“Calum…Cal…please…” she begs in a whisper, her fingers tightening in his hair.

Getting her message loud and clear, he lifts her in his arms, lips assaulting hers as he makes his way to his bedroom. He kicks the door shut so Duke doesn’t interrupt then drops her to the bed. She giggles and he laughs along with her yanking his shirt off. She removes her shorts and panties the same time he drops his shorts to the floor.

She’s quick to grasp him in her palm, stroking towards herself, looking up at him. He touches her cheek affectionately; it’s been so long since they’ve had each other this way.

“Love the way you look at me like that,” he mumbles, his thumb rubbing under her eye.

A smile flickers on her lips before she suctions them around his tip. Calum’s eyes close sequentially but he forces them open so he can watch her, another love of his. Her tongue swirls and rolls the only way she knows how to do before taking him further in her mouth.

Calum groans at the warmth of her mouth, he brings his other hand to her cheek, watching her eyes close as she concentrates. Flashes of her like this flood his mind, from their first time, to the time they snuck away at Ashton’s house because he was wearing that suit she loved him in so much she had to have him right then.

When he reaches the back of her throat, he snaps back to the present and moans from the sensation. She takes him that deep again and he holds her face tighter.

“Up, up, up, up,” he orders pulling her off him. As much as he loved getting head from her, he loves returning the favor more. “Lie back, baby, legs up.”

She licks her lips, swiping her thumb over leftover spit which is insanely hot and pushes herself to the center of the bed. He follows her hungrily, pushing her ankles up and to the side so she’s open and pliant for him, only for him.

He keeps his eyes on her as he kisses her thighs, nibbling his teeth every now and then with his thumbs rubbing her ankles softly. She situates the pillows behind her head so she can have a better angle to watch him. She loves to watch as much as he does.

“Ready?” he asks, and she giggles, nodding quickly.

He flashes her a wink before closing his mouth on her clit. She moans on contact while he sucks then transitions to flicking his tongue at the nub, teasing the tip of his tongue in her hole sporadically. He loves pleasuring her with his mouth, he can feel her moans on his tongue as she drips for him. Her hands fly to his hair guiding his mouth to where she needs, and Calum lets her use him.

He pulls away a fraction so he can gather his saliva then spits it on her core, watching it dribble to her entrance before he slurps it back up with her arousal. Her moans are sinful at the action, her hips moving with his motions, moans getting louder and louder until she gasps out his name in one breath. Her legs go rigid in his hold as her orgasm crashes into her.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he grunts, swiping his tongue up and down, up and down until her body relaxes. He looks up already meeting her gaze, chest heaving from the bliss. “Ready for me?”

“Always,” she nods.

They move quickly, situating themselves in the right way. He holds her ankles until he’s hovering above her, then lets go so he can grab hold of his shaft then slaps it against her pussy in a teasing manner. She moans at the contact, her legs falling open wider. Calum rubs her temple with his thumb nearest her head as he nudges himself between her folds.

Her mouth opens like it always does when he inserts himself the first time, he slips right in and they moan together at being connected once more. He rests his other hand on his bed, and she lets out a squeak.

“Ouch! On my hair, move, move, move!”

He lifts his hand spewing out ‘sorry, sorry!’ quickly as she readjusts herself. They’re giggling and he bends down to kiss her, she wraps her arms around his neck. She shifts her hips slightly underneath him in a rocking motion, but he wants more of her lips.

“If I’m going to do all the work, I should have been on top,” she teases jutting her hips up once more.

“Yeah? You want to be sassy right now?” he hums pressing himself into her more, she lets out a choked moan.

“You going to fuck me right now?” she hums in the same tone, smirking against him.

Calum growls then pulls himself out of her only to plunge with force right back in. She screams out his name as he starts a rapid rhythm, hips snapping against hers, the bed shifting with his movements. Her head tilts back as her back arches so she can take him even deeper.

Calum sucks onto her breast, fucking into her swiftly, her wetness has him moving faster and faster until—

“FUCK!” he groans when he slips out of her entirely and thrusts into her thigh. She’s laughing above him, and he curses lowly to himself again. He glances up to see her giggling behind her hand. “Think it’s funny, huh?”

“Am I that wet?” she laughs poking his nose. “That’s your fault you know.”

“I take that as a win, baby,” he sighs teasing her hole once more with his cock. He grins up at her. “No one makes you as wet as I do.”

“Hmm, you’re not wrong,” she smiles then wiggles beneath him.

“You want more?” he teases pressing his tip in slowly, she bites her lip.

“Please,” she whines.

“You have to keep your legs still, so I don’t slip out again,” he breathes then pushes in once more.

He finds his rhythm from before, her body arching the way he loves but he feels her legs shift. He growls then pushes them up to her chest, he plants his knees to the mattress, her ass cheeks resting on his thighs.

“What’d I say?” he pants, and her eyes roll at his tone and the angle he has her body in. he jack hammers into her, his balls slapping her thighs.

She squeezes the pillows next to her head until her knuckles are white, her cries of pleasure are music to his ears as he feels her clench around him. Sweat builds on his brow and his chest and he’s damned to have her orgasm as many times as he can. Her eyes close as her second orgasm hits, she’s pulsing around him in such a good way it makes him ache.

When it’s over, he releases her legs so he can pound into her with his waist. He holds her to his body, face buried in her neck so he can leave marks on her skin. She’s coming once more, chanting his name in his ear and he groans at the sound. She kisses his ear, teeth grazing his lobe as a new orgasm rolls into the next.

Feeling his own release approaching, he shifts again. This time he moves backwards pulling her with him so they’re in a sitting position. He wraps her legs around his waist, her body is heavy against his from the tumultuous pleasure he’s giving her. Calum’s arms snake around her back, it’s sticky with her own sweat and he licks into her mouth the same time he starts thrusting again. Her ankles lock behind his back, she hides her face in his neck at the new angle.

“Look at me, baby, please,” he begs tugging at the hair by her neck. He holds her in place, their eyes meeting, her mouth falling open with their thrusts.

His movements slow to a more tenacious speed, still full of passion but with a layer of love and adoration. Calum moves his hand from her waist so he can anchor himself to the bed, thrusting his hips quicker. She helps as much as she can, her body is nearly spent but she wants to feel him cum inside her, hear his moans and see the bliss in his eyes.

“Come for me, Cal,” she pants, “come for me, baby…”

His hips jerk and he releases his orgasm inside her, his hips move lethargically, milking his climax for as long as he can but their eyes stay locked. When he’s finished, they both let out a long sigh, knocking their foreheads together. Their breath is hot on each other’s faces, sweat beads roll onto each other’s skin, a mixture of him and her.

They stay in the position, legs crisscrossed, arms wrapped around one another, heartbeats slowing from a rapid pace to syncing together. After a few more moments, they disentangle, and Calum has to help her walk to the bathroom. She can already feel the soreness in her lips, but she’s missed the pleasured ache.

They brush their teeth, she uses the toilet, then crawl into bed together. She’s already passed out as soon as her head hits the pillow and Calum draws designs along her back until he falls asleep as well.

The next morning, they wake later than intended but give light kisses in the morning sun.

“I love you, you know,” he tells her caressing her face. His eyes litter over the small marks on her neck and breasts he gave her.

“I love you, too.”

“Are you all right being stuck with me?” he grins pulling her leg over his hip.

“Lock the door and throw out the key,” she grins capturing his lips between hers.

“It’s just you and me.” He moves to roll on top of her, but she pushes on his chest lightly so she’s on top.

“I’m stuck with you,” she whispers, kissing him as she grinds herself on top of him.

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

Hotter Than Summer

a/n: Remember when I promised more NSFW stuff? Yeah so this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Do Not interact with this is you're underaged. But if you're legal, have fun! 18+ only

w/c: 8k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Every year, you went on a trip with your family.

Your parents and siblings would cram into one car, and meet up with your neighbors in the countryside, under the same roof. A cabin that over looked a lake, that housed a forest, that wrapped all the way around to where you were.

You'd go in the dead of summer, when school let out. When the mosquitoes were rampant and the heat was crippling. You couldn't ever figure out what was so enjoyable about heading into the middle of no place to melt inside a rented home for a few weeks, but you went back each year. Of course, swimming in the lake was a blast and campefires at midnight were such fun. But that was mostly due to the fact that you got to spend such quality time with your favorite old neighbours.

Your fathers best university pal, and his wife only moved across the street when you were well into your high school career. But your dad was chuffed still to have his oldest friend one hop skip and jump away. Your mom was just as fond of the family, and soon you were sharing dinners and going to festivals and movies with them and their son, George.

When you met, you ignorantly assumed there was no way he wasn't a jock, or something equally as brain dead. No one with a face that pretty could possibly be smarter than a blade of grass.

But it wasn't long after they moved in, untill his parents asked you to show him around the school. And even though he was older and so vastly different from you, one morning, you found out George wasn't at all how you'd imagined. As you took him through the school halls, he went on and on about the theater program and marveled over your decently sized and poorly decorated library. He even thanked you for wasting your free break guiding him round to help him make sense of the schedule in his hands.

And after then, you had it bad. So that was precisely the reason you decided to steer clear. You gave small waves in the halls, and pretended not to scream internally when he sat next to you at lunch, every now and again. You went about your day pretending you were much more preoccupied with your other friends, and saved all your hopelessly romantic daydreams about George for your diary.

Until summer, of course. When you showed up to the cabin with your family and your siblings and some of their friends. George would be there, and you let yourself trail behind him like a puppy then. But he always asked for your company, really. He always dragged you to go swimming or to walk three miles to the nearest convenient shop for snacks. He'd sit next to you during rainy afternoon movie marathons and entertain all of your fireside ramblings.

But it had been three years since you'd spent a summer in the cabin. Your last time was the summer after you graduated. George's last time was two years prior, and nothing had quite been the same since.

///

You knew he wouldn't be there, this year. You should have been off, just as well, drinking till dawn or whatever else college kids wasted evenings doing.

His parents were there, though, and spent at least a minute each hugging you hello. After then, you trekked through the familiar home, up to the room you always claimed as your own, and you pretended not to feel dramatically sad. And for the next week, you sat around the fireside with your siblings, and laughed at their dumb jokes. You swam in the lake all alone. And you listened to George's parents yammer on about how proud they were of all his latest and most admirable achievements.

The last day of your visit, you sat alone in the sun room with a book, but only used it as a fan while you reminisced of all the times you'd sat doing the same before.

"I don't know why we come here when it's this hot." You sighed across the table full of left over breakfast food. Your family had migrated toward the back garden to play volleyball, but you couldn't be bothered trudging through the heat.

"I've always wanted to come in the autumn, watch the leaves change, make better use of all this firewood." You never did, because that's when school started and holidays were left to plan in for insufferable days like now.

George's mother was setting a pitcher of spiked punch on the table, something she made every year you'd been old enough to enjoy in her company.

"You know, it's so funny you say that." She grinned, shooting you a bright glance as she moved to pour you a drink.

"Our Geogre will be home this fall and he was asking about heading up to the cabin." She began. You used your book fan with a little more vigour.

"We, unfortunately, won't be able to make that happen of course, with his father's job and my plans of travelling before snowfall." She rambled, the ice in her drink clinking as she raised it to her lips. Your family's laughter rang muffled from beyond the glass wall of windows that made up the breakfast nook. And the heat, like a blanket over you. Like a pool you stayed trapped drowning in.

"You know- you kids should come here on your own! You're plenty old enough now to handle that responsibility and you always were such good friends. I bet Georgie would just love that." His mother's smile was audible in her tone and beaming from her face. You tried not to gawk at her, not to scrabble to sit straight. You casually lowered your leg from the arm of the chair and looked to the woman with a turn of your head.

"Oh I don't know, do ya think-"

"Yes, yes!" She interrupted with a furrowed brow like this was very serious. "I'm meant to call him later. I'll pass the idea along for you, love."

With a soft grin, her mind was made up. You shrugged, hoping it would make her believe you wouldn't be let down either way. But you'd never wanted anything more.

///

She got through to George, and apparently, according to his mother, he very excitedly accepted the plans. You weren't too sure that was entirely true, but you couldn't help but do a little happy dance behind the closed doors of your cabin bedroom. It was always as you left it, green quilt, matching rug, and the few framed albums you hung to make up for the bland wallpaper.

You left it, thrilled by the thought of returning in two months, and stayed glued to your phone till then. Geogre was meant to text you when the time crept nearer for your roughly made plans to become a little more organized.

You weren't sure what you were so excited for. He'd probably bring a girl, or a least mention one. There was no way he didn't have his pick of dozens vying for his attention. Still, the idea of spending a weekend in the cabin in such close quarters with your old crush was thrilling.

///

He texted you a month before you ended up planning to stay, and your exchange was jarringly short. George shot you a date and time. You agreed. Then he asked if you minded if a couple of his friends tagged along. And of course, you didn't. And that was that.

The summer dragged on, and at the first sign of autumn in the air you practically had all your bags packed.

When the time came, you gave your family quick goodbyes and arrived to the cabin a couple of hours early. The air was crisp, and the lake looked cold from your safe distance away. You breezed through the thin fog and smiled to yourself when you stepped into the place.

Everything was just how you'd left it. There were even still a few notes tapped to the refrigerator. You moved through the wooden structure and noticed how high the ceilings were for the first time in a while. And after washing a few sheets, and sorting out some of the food you'd brought for dinner, your solitude was interrupted.

There was a rattle at the door, and when it opened your heart stopped. He was here. George was all grown up. You hadn't seen him since the last time he came out here with the lot of you, the summer after he graduated. Years had passed, and now his hair was a little longer. He was a little leaner, a little taller, maybe. His nose was reddened by the cold but his smile was familiar. You tried not to gape at him and the way he seemed like an actual supermodel while he rested his bag by the door and looked to you, his grin growing wider.

"Hello, stranger." You smiled.

"Y/n!" He called with outstretched arms. You abandoned your place at the stove to accept his embrace and prayed he wouldn't be able to feel your quickened heartbeat.

"George." You beamed. Because he was your friend. At least, he had been once. His smile remained as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and mumbled a hello right in your ear.

"Where are all your friends, then?" You cleared your throat, trying everything to keep your cool. Did he really have to speak so low in your ear? This weekend might prove to be incredibly awkward...

"Ah, yeah, one cancelled and the other might just as well. He said he'd keep me updated." George winced, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Hope you don't mind boring old me?"

"Of course not." You produced a chuckle. "I'm just making dinner."

And just like that, it felt like old times. George took over the kitchen for a bit, while you bickered over spices and seasonings. And in between stirring up an evening meal, George tucked his bags away in the room he'd always stayed in, and came back to help you set the table.

Conversation never lost its steady pace. George asked you about your budding life after highschool. He asked what you were doing for money and what you dreamed of doing for good. He laughed at some of your best stories and started to trade some of his own.

You'd always felt a bit intimidated by George, but worse now than ever before. He was musing about Hollywood and rambling about his life on movie sets. You nodded along, and watched George's pretty structured face light up as he spoke of his dreams and how some of them had come true.

When you'd finished dinner, your nerves really started up. Here the two of you were, all alone for the first time, maybe ever. There was always someone else near by in your knowing each other. Whether it be here, back home, or at school. You weren't sure how to handle all the empty space, so to occupy your time, you started a fire in the den. It was a cozy little room where everyone usually spent movie nights curled up on the small sofa. You liked to come here to read, when the sun shone brightly through the picture windows.

But it was dark now, and the fire was small. So you stuck nearby to help make it grow and wondered why you and Geogre were here. You wondered if his friend would ever show. You wondered if he'd ever really invited anyone at all.

"I brought beer, but there was some rum stashed away," George spoke himself into the room, holding a bottle and a glass in hand. He held each out to you, offering you take your pick. You picked the rum and thanked him for thinking you might've wanted a choice.

"I think I know you pretty well after all this time." George grinned, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. You were stood there, watching the flames flicker higher, and it took an internal debate for you to sit at his side. Were you making things weird or had they been weird on their own? Just moments ago you were mulling over how normal everything felt. Yeah, must'a just been you.

"I dunno," You huffed as you crossed your legs. "I've changed a lot since the days we used to tolerate each others company."

"Tolerate?" George chuckled. "We both know half our stays in this cabin were made most enjoyable by all the times we band together. We always had such fun."

"We did. Do you think we're too old now to have fun, this time around?" You asked, taking a sip of the rum he offered you. George stalled for a beat, like he was really considering the answer to your question. And then he looked at you and shook his head.

"I hope not." His lithe grin made your throat go dry. So you finished off your rum and stood for a refill. When you settled back in the den, George was halfway through his beer, and you got to talking about life again. He told you the scariest stories of his time away, and you reminisced about some of the traumas of life you and Geogre had been caught up in together when he was only one house away. George went for another beer, and you stayed watching the fire steadily burn.

He returned in silence and the quiet lingered for a long while, with both of you fixated not the flames.

"Remember when you said you'd let me stow away in your luggage when you left, so I could skip out on my physics finale?" You laughed into your drink. You felt George's eyes turn to search for your own, but you were still too deep in thought. "I failed that quiz, George. You were supposed to be my way out of this town."

"Hmm." George took a swig of his beer as you finished your second glass of rum. "Maybe that's why I've come back."

"That's rich." You chuckled and pointed a look to George. You couldn't hold back your nervous breaths of laughter now. Because he was watching you. His sea blue eyes seemed to search your face. You never recalled a time he looked at you with such undivided attention.

"What's so funny?" George rose a pale brow, taking another sip of beer. And as the answer formed on your lips, you blamed the rum entirely for your lack of critical thinking.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you." You admitted, turning a glance to George. His gaze had yet to break from your face, but you swore his smile grew ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow and shot you a sidelong look, like he didn't believe what you were saying.

"I did!" You laughed, the voice in your head reprimanding you for being so bold, as the words kept pouring out of your mouth. "You were my older, smoking hot neighbour boy. It was all very cliche but true." You shrugged. A blush burnt your cheeks and your mind suddenly caught up with your actions and you'd started to regret everything that had just transpired.

You mumbled a weary curse as you ducked your head away, hoping George wouldn't go on embarrassing you too much about this. You really hadn't planned to out yourself on the first night of your staying here with him. You hadn't planned to ever tell him that.

But George wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at you, like he had been. Like he was trying to figure you out. His eyes travelled from your face to search the reset of you. You watched George's gaze roam across your build while you tried not to combust in a self conscious worry. But the strange tension was too much not to break.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" You feared, hiding your bashful grin by lifting the nearly empty glass of rum to your lips.

"Because you're beautiful." George grinned, laughing a little like this was some big obvious fact.

"You're just tipsy." You shook your head, pointing to his empty bottle of beer and its half full replacement.

"No, you're just beautiful. You always have been." His tone grew more serious. You dared to catch his eye. The flames from a foot away were reflected in his gaze, and something else too. His eyes flicked away from yours to land on your lips. And his parted ever so slightly. If you hadn't dared to glimpse at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed the way his jaw slacked.

His eye caught yours again and you realized he was moving closer. George was leaning in and your heart was beating a mile a minute and the fire seemed hotter than the dozen summers you'd wasted away here before.

His lips brushed yours before anything, and neither of you moved for a moment. His warm breath ghosted across your face and all your dreams seemed to suddenly come true as his mouth closed against yours.

Slowly, your lips started moving together. But they moved in perfect time, like they were made for it and waiting for this day to come true. George kissed you with a little more intent, as you kissed him back like you'd never get the chance to again. Because you had never once believed anything like this would happen with George. Maybe he was just tipsy. Or lonely. Or bored. You didn't care. You started to believe he had at least a little bit of actual interest in you, with the way he leaned closer and pressed his grip into your side. His tongue brushed against yours as his fingers started creeping closer to your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating like a drum, and if his hand would ever reach its destination. You kissed him hard as encouragement, and he let out the sweetest whimper that would have made your eyes roll if they were open.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Shit." You let out another nervous laugh, pulling away and catching your breath. You thought George's friends had all cancelled.

"I'm- I'm sorry." George shook his head, swiping hand at his lips and furrowing a brow at another knock on the door.

"Don't be?" You searched George's eyes for a moment and hoped he knew what you were asking. You hoped he watched as you hurried away. Had that really just happened? Had you just been bold enough to do the thing you'd wished of doing since sometime in high school? Was all the gentle passion in his kissing you back fueled by the drinks? Or had he really meant it?

The knocking kept on as you drifted closer. Geeze, for someone who wasn't sure about coming, they sure seemed excited to be here in the middle of the night. You adjusted yourself on the way to unlock the door, and tried not to blanch when you saw who was on the other side.

"Hi kids!" George's mother beamed, a bag in her arms. "My trip got cancelled and your folks weren't busy so we figured we'd come surprise you!"

The group of parents shuffled through the door. Your father toted a bottle of whiskey and your mother held a stack of films in her grasp. They each hugged you, and you scrambled to steady your tone.

"What a treat." You laughed through your teeth. The change in the pace of your evening could have given you whiplash.

"Oh, it's just like old times!" George's mother squealed, finding her son shuffling toward the kitchen to find what all the commotion was about.

"I suppose so." He grinned, accepting his mothers embrace and nodding as she explained that his father was too busy with work to crash the party. With all the tender sweetness you'd fallen for over the years, George said he understood but greeted his mother with kindness all the while. And as your parents rushed to pass hugs his way, George caught your eye. You wanted nothing more than to ask about the question in his gaze. But you feared your weekend with George wouldn't be as you'd once dreamed, like always.

///

You were glad to sit around the dying fire with your family. His mother's laugh was music to your ears. Your father's jokes had George doubled over with laughter. Your mother mused over and over about how glad she was for this surprise getaway.

And you couldn't be too upset, because you relished every moment you got to spend like this. Usually, this cabin was an escape, a place you could come without a care in the world. But now, there was a nagging little worry tumbling around your head, as everyone sat dragging the night on. Loose plans for the next day were made, talk of enjoying nature and making use of the big kitchen. You said something about sleeping in, because that was a rare occasion in your life these days. And here was a place where your wishes were supposed to be granted.

Your mother was the first to head to bed. The other adults decided to as well, but not before recruiting George to help clean up the kitchen neither of you had been very worried about taking total care of earlier in the evening.

You trudged up the stairs and took your turn in the shower, after wishing your mother a lovely night's sleep. She kept walking to the end of the hall, where she and your father enjoyed the best view just overtop of the forest of trees all around you.

While you washed up for the evening, your mind raced in every direction. What had just happened? And what was going to happen now? You'd been through all sorts of unexpected events with George, growing up. But never anything remotely close to... whatever this was. So far, this wasn't at all how you'd envisioned your long-awaited autumn visit in the countryside.

George's mother was soon making her way to bed too. She passed by as you opened the bathroom door and paused to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wished her goodnight and started your creep toward your own room. Before you could get there, George was walking with your father up the stairs, sharing chatter about a sports game from last year.

"Alright well, I'm off to clean up before bed." Your father noted, ruffling your hair on his way past. "Unless you need in here, George." Your father spun and pointed. There was another half bath downstairs, but the one on the second floor was the only one completed with a big shower and a separate tub.

"Ah, just holler when you're finished and I'll have a turn." George nodded as your father spun back toward the loo wishing you goodnight. You caught George's eye as you started back to your room, and prayed the creaking of the floorboard behind you were his footsteps and not just another one of your daydreams.

Sure, and strangely enough, a set of fingers curled around your wrist before you passed through your doorway.

"I believe we have some unfinished business." His voice muttered over your shoulder. Holy shit. How was this happening?

You didn't have time to waste questioning any longer. You only pulled George into the room you'd come to call your own, and shut the door with a gentle click that wouldn't cause any unwanted attention. No sooner than you had, George was on you.

His lips captured yours in a flash, like you'd been lost at sea and were only just being reunited. You threw your arms around his neck and barely held back a shocked giggle when George pulled you flush against him. You could have spent forever this way, in George's strong embrace, sharing the same breath.

He kissed you dizzy and spun you toward the wall. His hands found your chest at long last and he sighed against your mouth as you pulled him closer best you could. His hips pressed into yours and his hand trailed down your front, till his fingers stalled at the button of your sleep shorts.

"Can I?" He asked in a husky breath, looking right at you. You raised a brow, and gave him a nod, only just attempting to catch your breath. You could hardly believe it. But you'd never been more sure. George kept an eye on you for a beat, as you pressed your teeth to your lower lip. And when his hand started to move, you couldn't help but smile.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've always wanted to do this?" George asked, breathing in your ear as his hand disappeared below the fabric of your shorts. "For how long I've dreamed of having my way with you?" A shiver shot through you as he nipped at your neck. It was all very overwhelming. His word. His lips. His fingers, steadily starting to trace all the right places.

"Holy shit, George." You whined, gripping his shoulder for support from melting into a puddle on the floor.

"What? Am I doing alright?" He asked in a snide way, keeping his mouth pressed below your ear, and pressing his fingers against you with more vigour. Your breath caught at the feeling and George hummed happily against your throat. His fingers travelled further, deeper, till there was no place left for them to go. And when he set his digits into motion, you couldn't help but let out a noise, a small broken cry that tore George's focus from your neck right to you. His fingers stopped moving and his free hand reached your jaw. He held your face in his grasp and seemed to stall a question on his lips. Then with a breath, George asked,

"You're not gonna keep quiet are you?" At the same moment he'd decided your reaction, his fingers started moving again, and his hand that held your jaw moved to cover your mouth.

"Still try, darling, this cabin isn't very big you know?" George grinned, putting his fingers to good use. Your eyes rolled back, and tried as you might, another cry escaped your throat when George picked up his pace. His one hand stayed firm over your mouth as he worked you up and whispered sinful encouragement in your ear. When you could barely feel the floor under your feet, a noise came from the hall. A knock on a distant door.

You groaned as George stalled, and chuckled at your disappointment. His free hand slid down to your throat and his fingers gently curled around there as his eyes watched yours. From behind your door and down the way you heard your father.

"George! Showers free. And don't forget to see your alarm. We're still hiking at dawn!"

You could have cried, really, when you realized your night of fun was halted till further notice. George slipped his fingers from your shorts as you sucked in a breath and let it out like a sigh.

"Don't worry love," George cooed. "I plan on taking good care of you... eventually." The fingers he'd been using found their way to your mouth. You watched his pretty blue eyes flutter as you wrapped your lips and swirled your tongue around his knuckles. You swore he almost reconsidered his leave. But then George straightened and backed away with a clenched jaw and a smile on his lips.

"Get some rest. We're hiking in the morning!" He announced with a wink as he reached for the handle of your door.

"Oh, fuck you." You grinned, feeling empty and full of fire all at once.

"With any luck." George said, before shutting the door behind him.

///

"It's too high!" You worried, searching for a broad rock to step down onto. You and your family had found yourselves at the top of the trail that wound through the forest. But had decided to take a different route back down, around the lake.

"Here look, step there." George spoke up, from the bottom of the path that was broken up. He pointed to a patch of dirt you envisioned crumbling the moment you relied on it. Your mother tutted, and moved past you to take George's advice. Your lovely neighbour extended his hand to your mother who managed her way to safety with his help. Your father followed, helping George's mother, until you were the last one left.

They all stared up at you as you bit your nails and mulled over your game plan.

"Right- we're walkin' on. Get her off, George." Your father waved and turned to follow your mother and George's, who were already ahead gossiping about some tv show. You struggled to hide your blush as Geogre shifted his weight and grinned up to you.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Obviously." You pointed. George reached out, and you held your breath, and stepped where everyone else had. George's hand was strong, but your prediction came true. As you balanced your weight on the patch of dirt, it began to give way. But George was there. He swept you away with ease and balanced you on both feet on the same level of ground as him.

"Did you just want me to save you all along?" George mused, keeping his arms snug around you as you stood.

"Come on." You bit back a smile and pushed George to lead the way, noticing your folks posed for a self at the opening of a man-made bridge.

You all walked on, till you spotted a weather-worn gazebo near the opening of the lake. The sun was unusually bright for the seasons, though a chill balanced in the air. Your gang stalled to rest in the small enclosure and laughed about the adventure you'd been on, and how none of you had ever realized this little nook was out here in all the years you'd been staying right around the bend.

George's mother was the first to head in, saying something about a midday nap. You didn't blame her. You all really had risen with the sun to enjoy the trails before a late lunch. Your mother was next to leave, mentioning just that. Her plans to make a big ridiculous afternoon meal that would likely count as some kind of dinner, too. Your father followed after her, paranoid about the trek from out of the woods alone.

George stayed and shot you a look as you watched everyone walk away, and turn around the lake. And for a moment, you just talked. Like how you always used too. About life and death and everything in between. All while each pause between topics grew long and heavy. Soon, you rose from the bench, tired of sitting, but excited to find yourself lingering out here in the sole company of the man you'd been dreaming of keeping all to yourself.

"Do you prefer it here in the summer, or now?" You wondered aloud, because you really wanted to know. The area you'd come to know so well seemed like a different world in the cold.

George followed your ambling, back down the skinny trail from where you'd just come. He waited to respond until he stepped to face you and stalled your meander.

"Now." George smiled, searching your eyes and pushing his nose against yours. The action made your heart flutter and your fists curl in the pockets of your jacket. Then he kissed you so tenderly, like you'd kissed thousands of times before and he was used to the sensation. You, however, were still dazzled by it. Your hands flew up and clung to the jacket he'd left unzipped. You kissed him back like this was your last chance to prove how badly you'd always wanted too. At your fervour, George snaked his arms around you. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his other trailed to your backside.

You had no excuse to hold back your pleased sighs, as George pressed against you, digging his fingers into your thigh and pulling it nearer to his hip. Your own hands started to wander, right between his legs. George let out a groan as you pressed your palm against his tight jeans, and you thought of doing it again just to hear his reaction. But you had something better in mind.

You broke your kiss and grabbed both of George's hands. He watched as you dragged him a little deeper into the green, and fell against a wide tree when you pushed his toward it.

When you started to fiddle with his belt buckle and bend your knees, George flushed and gapped at you.

"Here?" He asked with a nervous grin, looking much more innocent and shy than he'd appeared last night. Maybe ever.

"Would you rather trade bakewell recipes, George?" You asked with a snicker, sitting back against your heels and peering up to him. "We really don't have to, though." You spoke again with a serious nod, making sure he knew you really didn't want to do anything he didn't want to. But damn, you really wanted this.

"I'd really like if we did." George swallowed, and your grin stretched back to life. "I was just surprised is all."

"Why? Don't you think I'd like to show you as good a time as you started to show me last night?" You unzipped his trousers and kept your gaze fixed to George.

"I promise to make it up to you." He breathed as you started to pull at his boxers.

"You already are." You assured, just before the time for talk had ceased. Your mouth had better things to do.

When George lost his fingers in your hair, and tugged, you were motivated to deepen your interaction. Then you got to hear the way George whined and hissed and cursed your name under his breath. Even if you could reach your free hand to his lips, you couldn't dream of keeping George quiet. His sounds were the sweetest encouragement you'd ever known.

You stayed on your knees until your efforts paid off. Then you helped George pull his trousers back in shape as you rose to meet him, and were pleasantly surprised when he grabbed your face and kissed you. But when his hand started to trail below your waste you broke your kiss and shook your head.

"We don't have time." You sighed, brushing back some of George's unkempt blonde waves.

"But-" His perfect pale brows furrowed and his thumb brushed your cheek.

"It's okay. We'd better get going." You nodded. George nodded too, but then stole another quick kiss. It made you wonder what this was about. It made you wonder what George thought of you, and what he thought of you with him. You didn't let yourself wonder long. The sky was starting to darken with clouds. So you brushed the dirt from your knees and let George lead the way back to the cabin, biting back your broad grin every time he turned to make sure you were close behind.

///

The next morning was spent lazing about the breakfast table as a drizzle locked you all in. Your parents were each still in the kitchen, arguing over cinnamon rolls and other breakfast treats.

"I always wanted to come here to watch the leaves change." You piped up, setting a steaming coffee mug to the side, with your gaze stuck out the rain covered window. George sat by your side, with his head in the crook of his elbow on the table.

"We must have come too early in the year." You sighed, searching for a glimpse of orange or yellow in the distance. All you saw was brown and green against a dull grey sky.

"Well," George spoke up, quietly so. You lowered your eyes to find his, and fixated on his small grin. "That just means we'll have to come back."

"Yeah?" You hesitated to ask. What had he meant? Why had he said so? George only rested his hand on your thigh below the table, tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You kept your gaze on him and realized you had fallen hard and fast.

You'd always had it bad for George, but with all this new and very exciting attention he'd been giving you, it was game over. You'd thought of nothing but George each night you fell asleep one room over. Your heart practically leapt out of your rib cage every time you caught his eye across the room, since the beginning of the weekend.

But you didn't understand it. Neither of you talked about what you'd done or mentioned doing anything quite like it again. You just waited up in empty halls and hoped he'd come around the corner in the least suspicious amount of time possible.

But today was hard. Today you couldn't sneak out in the woods, or around the corner. You were trapped in by rain, and if you and George snuck behind closed doors there wouldn't be a question as to why, and that would be utterly embarrassing.

So you sat across from George as your father rallied everyone around an old tattered board game. You caught George's eye as your parents bickered over game rule, and wondered what he was thinking as his pretty blue gaze locked on yours.

When you followed your mother's instructions to go and find a stack of movies in her room, George's mother shuffled off to go make snacks. So your favourite pretty blonde said something about taking a shower, and followed as you trekked up the stairs. But no sooner than you found the stack of movies, and George lingered outside of the bathroom did your father spin into the hall in search of his glasses.

You and George only got to share a look before he shut the bathroom door, and your father recruited you to help in his hunt.

As you all curled up for a movie marathon, Geogre helped you pour everyone a drink. While he reached for a set of glasses, he sneaked past you with one hand grazing your lower back for as long as he could get away with.

And when your parents took residence on the love seat and his mother kicked back in the chair, you and George were left to make the floor comfortable. You dumped all the extra blankets in front of the coffee table and sat a few inches away from George while some romcom played on. It was almost painful, how close he was without being able to reach out. What a strange turn of events.

His mother fell fast asleep by the second film, and your parent's dozed off by the third.

And as the last film played on, you felt George's hand creeping closer to yours. His fingers fit between your own, and his thumb brushed against your knuckles every now and again, as you sat holding hands.

You hadn't really seen that coming. You hadn't known what to expect of this whole thing with George, but an innocent lasting touch wasn't it. All the questions you'd always wondered were louder and scarier as the movie dragged on.

And when it was over, George walked you up the stairs. You kept quiet as not to wake your parents, and watched as he moved in the dark. When he stalled in the doorway of your room, you gazed up to him with a pushed in brow. Then he kissed you. Just a gentle, lingering peck. He left you in your doorway with that, and you stayed up staring at your ceiling wondering why.

///

Your parents left the next morning. They hadn't planned too. But your father got a call from work and since they'd all arrived as a group they decided to leave that way. You had awoken early and found yourself staring at the pages of a book when your mother bustled down the stairs to let you know.

"We'll see you kids at the start of the week!" George's mother waved on her way out of the door. She hoped you'd both enjoy the last day of the weekend in the cozy little place you'd always come back to.

Your parents scrambled to pack their things and followed her out of the door in a dazed rush, rambling about how they wished they didn't have to leave as they headed to the door.

Just like that the cabin was quiet, more so than you'd ever noticed, even when you'd been the only one creeping through the halls. You had no idea what to expect. You didn't want to get your hopes up. And you didn't want to make this already strange situation even weirder. So you took to doing the dishes at the sound of your parents peeling out of the gravel drive. You scrubbed every plate and focused on every soap bubble to stall time as you thought up what to say.

One of you had to say something, right?

When the staircase finally creaked, you'd finished the leftover dishes and were nearly done sorting the last of them away. George stretched into the room, looking around to realize the cabin was missing your surprise guests.

"Dad got called into work. You just missed telling everyone goodbye." You shrugged, meeting George's eye for a moment before you spun to put the last dish away. You listened as he softly floated toward the space you occupied yourself.

"So I finally get you all to myself then?" George seemed to really ask. He looked tired, still. But there was a gentle smile on his face, some kind of hopeful glaze painted over his features. George reached out to you, both of his hands softly holding your face. He peered at you, searching your features as his thumb traced your bottom lip.

"You really wanna spend the rest of this weekend with me?" You wondered, ducking your head as a twinge of fear started to take hold. But Geogre straightened your gaze once more, he made you look at him as he chose his words.

"I'd like to spend much longer than just this weekend with you," He spoke gently like every word was precious. You couldn't possibly think of what to say. You could only smile. You grinned without holding back and watched as George shut his eyes and kissed you.

You kissed him back and decided the pouring rain was cause enough to start a fire. George trailed behind you on your mission to throw a few logs in the fireplace. When you turned from sparking a flame, you watched George settle onto the floor that was still a mess with blankets and pillows from last night's movie marathon. He reached up to you, fingers moving from their latch on your wrist to press into your sides as he pulled you right into his lap.

Just like that his arms were around you and his mouth opened against yours. The fire was nice, but the warmth coming from George was heavenly. You moved your kisses to his neck, relishing the way his pulse beat under your touch. You trailed your lips back across his jaw until you were kissing him again, and dissolving in his strong hold.

You held his face in your hands as your mouths moved together, and only released your grasp to raise your hands over your head as George lifted your sweater up and away. His kisses trailed across your exposed skin, to the swell of your breasts, while his fingers managed to unclasp your bra. With your knees on either side of his hips, you rocked against George, feeling more desperate for his touch than ever.

"Are you sad your friends ditch you?" You asked in a breath with a smile and George was busy pressing his tongue to your skin. You felt him smile, and the warmth of a chuckle escape him.

"Are you glad our parents came and ruined our chances of spending the whole weekend this way?" George shot back, as you pulled his shirt away. You rolled your eyes and pushed George back against a stack of pillows, reaching for his belt. You laughed as he kicked his trousers away and pulled you down for a kiss, like he couldn't fathom parting from you for a second.

You spent a while wrapped up in his tangled limbs- kissing him, trailing your fingers against his burning skin, rocking against each other while the last of your layers kept you from doing what you really wanted.

"You know, I always had a crush on you, too." George propped himself up on both elbows as you'd started to pull his boxers away. You paused your mission for a moment to look at him. His half-lidded gaze and the mess of his hair. The marks starting to darken on near his throat, from you. He was more beautiful each new time you caught a glimpse, it seemed.

"Sentiment not required, but appreciated." You grinned as George sat up, free of the last of his clothes, reaching to free you of your own with his sea blue eyes on yours all the while.

"I did." He rose a brow, and something about his confirming so made your heartache, as it already beat like a drum. You brushed back his tousled waves and searched George's face for approval. He blinked up at you, totally enraptured. You could have stayed in this paused state forever and you swore he might have been content, too. But you couldn't wait any longer. You'd waited long enough.

When you lowered yourself into George's lap, you watched his eyes close and his jaw slack. A sigh escaped his lips, like he was totally relieved. And not just by the pressure you'd both felt now, but by the build-up of this whole weekend. Like something from very deep within him was finally settled. You might have laughed a little at that state of him if you weren't feeling the same. You'd never felt so safe. A strange word for a time like now, but the only word that seemed to fit.

Neither of you moved for a while. At first, you'd focused on settling into the feeling. Then you became totally distracted, brushing back George's hair and peppering his face with kisses. His hands stayed loose around your sides and his nose nudged your own in a way that made your heart sing.

"As much as I love this, I really would like if you moved a little, dove." George cooed in your ear and kneaded his fingers into your hips hoping you'd get the hint.

So you did what he said, and rolled against him. George kept his grip firm as he let out one of those melodious groans of his. You picked up the pace then, not daring to hold back your own hums as George's eyes opened to find yours.

You shared another kiss as you found your rhythm, but couldn't keep it up for long. Your lips parted but lingered close to his when you couldn't hold back a broken cry.

George wrapped an arm around your middle and moved swiftly to lay you down. You watched as he loomed over you and searched your features like he did the first night here. You were in the same place as you had been when you confessed your stupid crush. And you were in the same spot you had been when he kissed you for the first time. And when he closed the distance between you once more, it felt better than ever.

You pressed your heels into his back and tried to tell him how fucking great he was at this, but incoherent mumbles were all you could manage.

"That good, huh?" George strained, barely getting the words out himself. But the little laugh that followed his statement seemed easy and sweet. As if you weren't feeling enough, your heart threatened to burst. Everything felt near bursting, actually.

"It's okay, baby." His saccharine voice rang in your ear as he somehow pushed you deeper into the mess of blankets. "It's just you and me now, and you feel so fucking good. You can let go now, love. I wanna feel you to let go."

He could have kept up talking that way and you'd fall to pieces in no time. But when his hand travelled below your stomach you nearly k.o'ed. Between the things he spoke just to you, the way he paused talking to curse a little, and the rhythm of his hips against yours, it didn't take long until you came undone. He kept you pinned in place until you nearly couldn't see straight until it seemed he couldn't either. When it was all said and done, neither of you moved for a moment. You were less irked by the fact you could have been doing that all weekend, and more moonstruck by the reality that it'd happened at all.

///

It wasn't long before you decided to get cleaned up, but it took awhile to get to the bathroom. George stopped you in the hallway to do everything over again, somehow better than the first time. He stopped you from finding clean clothes to pin you to the bed you'd called your own. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he made his way between your thighs, and made you forget all about doing anything else for the rest of the evening.

And when you finally made it to the bathroom, he followed you into the warm bath. But there, you only relaxed. The water soothed your aching muscles, and the whiskey your dad left behind was passed over the bubbles as you and George sat together till the water grew cold. You talked as you cleaned yourself up, about things you'd always talked about before. You watched as George changed into a pair of joggers you recognized from days gone by. You let him wrap you up in a towel and hold you close in the steam-filled bathroom, and you decided it was paradise.

Your night went on like normal. Like most nights had, in the cabin. You made dinner, and joked about the time your siblings nearly burnt the place down making cookies during a heatwave. And after you ate, you left the dishes for another day, like always. Then you followed George to the den, and watched as he turned the telly on to some slasher marathon. Your autumn dreams were alive and well, as you curled up on the sofa at his side.

You stayed happily tucked against him, one arm and leg across his frame. One of his strong arms nearly pulled you on top of him in an effort to cuddle close as possible. You nuzzled your face into his neck when something especially upsetting flashed across the screen. And eventually, the comfort of his secure hand splayed across your head, and his other arm holding you firmly in place, sent you into the most peaceful sleep you must have ever slipped into.

///

"Wake up, love."

Your eyes were heavy, and your limbs ached. The blankets felt so warm in the morning cold, and George's breath tickled your ear.

"My darling, wake up." He said again, tracing a finger along your jaw as your eyes fluttered open.

"M'up." You sighed, focusing on George's pretty face, his brilliant blue eyes and the easy smile on his full lips. You realized he wasn't curled close, but kneeling at your side like he'd been up for a while now.

"Come and see." His smile widened as he grabbed your hand and tugged you to stand. You pushed in your brows and only sat up so quickly because of George's unusual excitement. He kept your hand in his and dragged you across the room to the fog tinted windows. What time was it? George moved you to the clearest view, and snaked his arms around your middle from behind.

You rubbed your eyes and looked. And past the mist, you saw the trees. Among the usual green and grey, you saw spots of dark red and orange starting to appear. The further you looked the more colours you noticed, and then you realized George had noticed before you.

"Now we know." He mumbled in your ear, as you tore your gaze from the stunning view to look over your shoulder. George really did get prettier with every glance. And now you knew, indeed. You knew how he felt, and you knew you'd get to go home with him as more than neighbours. You knew the perfect time to come back to this cabin, too, when the colours were brightest and the fire's warmth would be most coveted. And you knew George would come back with you. The only thing you weren't sure of was which room you'd stay in together, in all the years to come.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader

518 notes · View notes

bibbawrites · 3 years

Text

Life Is A Highway - Single Dad!Charlie x Owen

THIS IS PART 9 OF THE SINGLE DAD!CHARLIE SERIES, YOU CAN FIND THE OTHER PARTS HERE

Request: none

Word Count: 4397 words

Summary: Part 9 of Single Dad!Charlie, Margaux and Charlie roadtrip to Oklahoma for the JATP streaming party

Warnings: swearing, sexual references pretty sure everyone knows at this point but this does include romantic chowen, remember this is fictional, if you dont like that just dont read :)

A/N: correct me if i’m wrong but i’m pretty sure this is the longest part of this series so far, it got a bit out of control lol set at the end of january when charlie and jeremy joined owen in oklahoma, this is charlie and marguax’s trip there and the day leading up to the streaming party days also in this owen didnt move into the studio apartment, he moved into a slightly larger version of his current apartment :) anyways, hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @happinessinthedarkesttimes @littlemissaddict @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @headheartbellarke @lovesanimals @bartok-the-magnificent @juliefromaustralia @multi-universe21 @rangerelik @kaitieskidmore1 @fandomxreaders @ifilwtmfc @yagorlemmalyn

“Daddy?” Margaux piped up from her car seat. Charlie glanced in the mirror. They had been in the car for almost 14 hours now, with only a few short stops for lunch and toilet breaks, and it was almost time for them to stop for the night.

“Yeah baby? You hungry?” Charlie questioned, and Margaux nodded.

“A little bit, but can we listen to Julie?” She gave him a small grin, and Charlie smiled, reaching for his phone to bring up the Julie and the Phantoms album, and stop his country music playlist.

“Of course we can. Which song?” He asked.

“Umm.” Margaux trailed off. “Great!”

Charlie chucked to himself, turning the song on and glancing at his daughter every so often as she happily sung along to the song. Margaux was obsessed with Julie and the Phantoms, her favourite character was Alex and she often requested to be dressed in pink just to match him. Charlie was actually quite surprised it had taken her this long to request the album.

The GPS told him to pull off at the next exit if he wanted to stop at the motel he had planned to, so Charlie obeyed, his focus going back onto the driving as Margaux happily belted Stand Tall from her car seat.

No more than 20 minutes later Charlie was pulling into the carpark of a small motel and parking, before turning in his seat to see Margaux.

“We’re gonna stay here tonight, okay? And then drive the rest of the way to Papa’s tomorrow.” He told her, and she peered out of the window.

“A hotel!” Margaux exclaimed excitedly. Charlie chuckled slightly, looking at the run down motel they had stopped at. It was far from the exciting ‘hotel’ Margaux saw it as, but he loved how her childhood innocence could make it seem like the most incredible place she had ever seen.

“Yeah baby. We’ll go in and have a bath and then maybe we’ll go find some food to eat, how does that sound?” He smiled and Margaux nodded.

“Good.” She agreed.

“Okay good, let’s go in then.” Charlie pulled his mask on and reached across to the passengers seat for the bag he had packed their essentials for the night in, and placed it on his back once he climbed out of the car. He walked around the car, opening up Margaux’s door and getting the four year old out of her seat and lifting her into his arms.

“Gotta go talk to the people.” He told her, locking the car and heading into the reception to book one night, letting them know that they would be leaving before the sun rose in the morning.

Once they had the key Charlie and Margaux headed back out into the early evening and found their room, entering it easily. Charlie placed Margaux down once he had shut the door behind them, and the four year old ran over to the window instantly, peering out of it like she did with every place they stayed at.

Charlie smiled, throwing the bag down onto the bed and sitting down, pulling his mask off.

“Do you wanna have a bath before we go get dinner baby?” He questioned.

“No.” Margaux replied simply. Charlie laughed.

“Can I at least change you into some warmer clothes?” He asked, and Margaux thought for a moment before nodding, coming over to her father and letting him change her into the long, fluffy pants and hoodie he had pulled out of the bag, and when she was done, placed a tiny beanie on her head.

Charlie grinned.

“Okay, what do you want for dinner? Anything you want.” He said, pulling her onto his lap, and she snuggled closer, thinking.

“Um...” Margaux trailed off. “Burger King!”

Charlie stood up, shifting Margaux to his hip and putting his mask back on before grabbing the car keys.

“Burger King it is then. Let’s go find some dinner.”

They found a Burger King with no trouble at all, and entered the restaurant, Charlie quickly heading to the counter and ordering, before moving off to the side to wait, while Margaux cuddled into his arms, her head on his shoulder as she watched the workers preparing the food.

“Charlie?” A female voice came from behind them, and Charlie spun around to find a young girl, no older than 16, and who he assumed to be her mother.

“Hi.” He smiled, suddenly very aware of the weight of Margaux on his hip. He really tried to avoid having interactions with fans with her around, he never knew what one of them might share about his daughter, and her safety was his first priority always.

“Oh my gosh it’s really you! Hi! I’m such a big fan of Julie and the Phantoms.” The girl exclaimed, and Charlie grinned.

“Aw thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed it.” He said sincerely,

“Oh she loves it. Made the whole family watch it. It’s all she ever talks about.” The girl’s mother chimed in and Charlie chuckled.

“Mum.” The girl groaned slightly, but her mother was undeterred, shifting her attention to the four year old in Charlie’s arms, who had moved her head to continue watching the workers.

“Is this little one yours? I didn’t know you had a child.” The mother asked, and Charlie bit his lip slightly at the question.

“Yeah she is. I don’t like to bring her up much, I prefer to keep her life as private as possible.” Charlie told her and the woman nodded, an understanding smile on her face. As if she knew they were talking about her, Margaux lifted her head off Charlie’s shoulder, turning to look at her dad, before focusing on the two strange faces in front of her.

“Oh you’re such a cutie.” The woman complimented and Margaux grinned, snuggling her head into Charlie’s neck.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, and Charlie grinned. It was a rare sight to see Margaux shy around strangers, the little girl was normally one to be confident. Clearly when she was sleepy it was a different story.

“4341?” The girl behind the counter called and Charlie glanced down at the receipt in his hand, seeing it was his number.

“That’s us, excuse me for a moment.” He said, before walking over to the counter to grab the food.

“You keep this safe baby.” Charlie handed the bag to Margaux who nodded eagerly, clearly excited with the job she had been give.

Charlie turned back to the girl serving, taking the drinks from her and smiling despite the fact she couldn’t see it through his mask.

“Have a lovely evening.” She said, and he nodded.

“You too.” He replied, walking back over to the young fan and her mother.

“We’re gonna head out, but before I go, did you want to take a photo or something?” Charlie questioned, and the girl shook her head.

“No it’s okay, she looks really comfy and I wouldn’t want to disrupt her.” She said, glancing at Margaux who had the bag clutched to her chest and her head back on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Are you sure?” Charlie checked, and the girl nodded.

“Yeah positive, I have the memories. And don’t worry, if I mention meeting you I won’t mention the little one.” She told him, and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.” He said, and she smiled.

“No problems at all. Have a good night.” She replied.

“You too, it was lovely meeting you. Both of you.” Charlie said, his tone genuine.

With one last goodbye Charlie and Margaux headed out of the restaurant and back to his car, placing the drinks on the front seat before moving to put Margaux in her car seat.

“Who was that Daddy?” She asked as he buckled her in, placing the bag of food back on her lap so that she could continue her special job.

“Just some friends baby.” He told her. Margaux nodded slightly.

“Okay... Can I have my nuggets now?” She asked, and Charlie chuckled, shutting her door and climbing into the drivers seat.

“As soon as we get back baby.” He promised. “As soon as we get back.”

Charlie was up before the sun the next morning, packing the bag and putting it in the car before taking a still sleeping Margaux and checking out.

He clipped Margaux into her seat gently, trying not to disturb her, and decided to go live for a few minutes before he left the motel while he ate some breakfast quickly, angling the camera so that Margaux couldn’t be seen. And then as he pulled out of the car park he ended live, opting to play music quietly instead.

Margaux slept for hours, and by the time she woke up they were only a couple of hours out of Oklahoma.

“Daddy?” Her voice came from the backseat, and Charlie grinned, looking at her through the mirror.

“Hey! Good morning baby. Did you sleep well?” He said, and Margaux nodded.

“Yeah, I was dreaming that we were in a boat and there was a horsey there and he was really mean but then you told him not to be mean and he said sorry and I got to play with him.” Margaux rambled sleepily, and Charlie smiled softly.

“That sounds really good baby.” He said and Margaux made a noise in response.

“Are we gonna be there soon?” She asked, and Charlie glanced at the GPS.

“About two more hours.” He told her, and Margaux frowned.

“Is that a small time?” She questioned. Charlie chuckled slightly before answering her.

“It’s a little bit long but not much. We’ll be seeing Papa before you know it.”

Just over two hours and one late lunch and toilet break later, Charlie pulled into the parking garage of Owen’s apartment building, using the code that Owen had sent him, and parked in front of Owen’s new car.

“Ready?” He asked, turning in his seat only to find Margaux fast asleep again, her favourite toy penguin clutched in her arms.

He chucked slightly, climbing out of the car and walking around to lift Margaux out of her seat gently, so that he wouldn’t wake her.

He shut the door and locked it, walking over to the stairwell and putting in a different code. He carried her up the stairs and wandered along a hallway until he reached the door of Owen’s apartment, knocking gently.

The door opened revealing Owen, and his eyes lit up when he saw Charlie and Margaux on the other side.

“Hey!” He whispered, and Charlie grinned.

“Hey, missed you.” He replied. Owen pulled them into the apartment.

“I have a room for Maggie, but I want you to see it when she sees it so we’ll put her on my bed for now.” Owen said, dragging Charlie down the hallway to his room, where Charlie placed Margaux down onto the bed, tucking her in and kissing the top of her head gently.

“Sounds good. You can watch her and I’ll go grab the bags and bring them up.” Charlie said once he had stood back up. Owen smiled, glancing down at Margaux before looking back up at Charlie.

“Okay.” He agreed, and Charlie turned to leave the room, but was stopped by Owen’s voice.

“Hey Charlie?” He said, and Charlie turned back.

“Yeah?” He questioned.

Owen stepped closer, placing a soft kiss to Charlie’s cheek.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

An hour later and Margaux was awake again and bouncing off the walls with excitement and energy.

“Can I see it now?” She begged, jumping on the spot in front of Owen, and Charlie regretted letting her have a cup of Fanta with her late lunch.

“Okay, you ready?” Owen agreed, and Margaux cheered. Owen led them to a door off to the side of where his bedroom was, and Charlie smiled at the clearly handmade name plate on the door, with Maggie written in a neat pink cursive.

“Open it, open it!” Margaux begged, grabbing onto Charlie’s leg with excitement, and Owen obeyed, opening the door to reveal a small bedroom, painted a soft pastel pink. There was a white bed in the middle of the room, and fairy lights strung around, and a bookshelf filled with children’s books. And in the corner was a small wooden chest, clearly filled with toys.

“Do you like it?” Owen asked nervously. Margaux’s face lit up and she rushed into the room, instantly jumping on the bed.

“I wanna stay here forever!” She exclaimed, and Charlie grinned, wrapping an arm around Owen.

“I’d say that’s a yes.” He joked, and Owen bit his lip.

“But do you like it?” He asked, eyes full of hope. Charlie nodded.

“I love it. You didn’t have to do this much for her though.” He said softly, glancing around the room as Margaux excitedly explored.

“I wanted to. Remember what you told me in Hawaii? That I’m her parent too and that we’re a little family? Well this is what a parent would do.” Owen shrugged slightly and it took everything in Charlie not to kiss Owen in that moment.

“Thank you.” He whispered instead, and Owen bit his lip, hesitating like he wanted to say something but ultimately decided against it. Eventually he settled on a small smile.

“Any time.”

Later that night Margaux was tucked into her new bed after finally coming down from the excitement and slight sugar high. Charlie and Owen had showered, and had made themselves comfortable in Owen’s bed, Charlie’s head on Owen’s chest as the younger boy flicked through Netflix, trying to find them something to watch.

“This okay?” Owen asked after a moment and Charlie hummed in agreement, not even checking what Owen had decided on, too content with listening to Owen’s heartbeat.

The movie started in the background, but Charlie’s whole focus was on Owen, and how much he had missed being snuggled up to the younger boy, the only scent a mixture of spearmint, body wash and something so uniquely Owen. It was intoxicating.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Owen’s voice snapped him out of his daze, and he shifted slightly.

“Just really fucking missed you, that’s all.” Charlie mumbled, instantly relaxing when Owen’s fingers threaded through his hair.

“It was only a month.” Owen replied, and Charlie sighed.

“I know, but still. I wanna be with you all the time.” He said. Owen took a deep breath.

“About that...” He started. “I tried to tell you this at New Year’s but-”

“Daddy?” Margaux’s voice came, and Owen swore under his breath. Charlie sat up, whatever Owen was going to say would have to wait.

“What’s up baby?” He asked, as Margaux climbed up onto Owen’s bed and into her father’s arms.

“Missed you.” She mumbled, her face pressed into Charlie’s bare chest. “Wanna sleep here.”

“Okay but only for tonight, okay?” Charlie compromised, and Margaux nodded.

“Into bed then.” Charlie instructed, wriggling over to allow Margaux to slide into the bed between him and Owen.

“Sorry O, we’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” Charlie said, and Owen sighed, but nodded nonetheless.

“Sounds good.” He mumbled, flicking the TV off and laying down on Margaux’s other side. Charlie frowned at the sudden darkness, but laid down anyways, reaching across Margaux to grab Owen’s hand, linking their fingers.

“Night O, love you.” He whispered.

“Love you too.” Owen whispered back after a moment. “And love you Maggie.”

“Love you Papa, love you Daddy.” Margaux chimed in.

“Love you baby girl.” Charlie finished, placing a kiss on Margaux’s head as the four year old shifted to grab onto him like a koala. Charlie wrapped an arm around her before snuggling closer to Owen.

This was it, he thought as he drifted off. This was his happy place.

The next day started with making pancakes, before moving into Margaux’s new room to play with some of her toys and get her used to the idea of sleeping in there alone.

Not much later Margaux decided she was hungry, and Charlie and Owen stood up to go chop up some fruit for the little girl.

Charlie trailed behind Owen as they headed into the kitchen, working in silence as they chopped the fruit up.

“I’m ready.” Owen blurted out. Charlie put down the knife and turned to him, confused.

“Huh?” He questioned. Owen took a deep breath.

“Staying with you at Christmas I realised that I’m ready. Ready to give this a shot, and call you my boyfriend, and kiss you whenever I feel like it and not just occasionally with an awkward apology afterwards. I was gonna tell you on New Years Eve but I got interrupted by the countdown, and then I left the next day and I lost the confidence to tell you, so I just didn’t. I didn’t realise it would be a whole month until I saw you again though. And then when I saw you yesterday I thought about telling you, but it felt like the wrong time. And then I tried to tell you last night but Maggie interrupted us and climbed into bed.” Owen paused. “So now I’m telling you, before anyone else can interrupt. I’m ready.”

“You’re sure?” Charlie checked, and Owen nodded.

“There is something I want to add but I’m gonna wait until you agree to be my boyfriend.” He said, and Charlie couldn’t stop the large smile that appeared on his face.

“Owen I’ve wanted to be your boyfriend since we were filming.” He replied, and Owen grinned.

“So that’s a yes then?” He asked.

Charlie stepped forward, crashing his lips against Owen’s. After a moment he pulled away, pressing their foreheads together.

“That’s a massive yes.” He whispered and Owen kissed him again, but pulled away just as Charlie tried to deepen the kiss, causing the older boy to whine.

“Before we get too caught up...” Owen trailed off. “I just want this to stay between us for a while, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s completely fine.” Charlie agreed, leaning in to kiss Owen once more but Owen pulled back.

“We can tell our families and friends when we’re ready, and I’d rather not tell the fans...” He rambled.

“Owen, I said it’s fine.” Charlie laughed, pulling Owen back in to kiss him again, a gentle peck on his lips. “Although I will warn you, Jeremy and Carolynn kinda already know that I’m in lo- that I liked you, and I’m pretty sure my mum knows too. Oh and Kenny was kinda cryptic in Hawaii, so I think he knows too.”

“My mum and sister know. I kinda had a breakdown one night and exploded the whole thing on them and admitted that I had feelings for you and that you had feelings for me and just told them everything.” Owen admitted. Charlie raised an eyebrow.

“What did they say?” He questioned.

“That they already knew. Luka said it was obvious, and Mum told me that she knew from the minute I met you that I had a crush on you. She said she figured it out after bootcamp. I wish she’d told me, cause I didn’t figure it out til the wrap party for filming.” Owen said, grabbing a bowl and putting the fruit they had already cut into it.

“I figured it out at the aquarium. You know when we spent the whole day holding hands? And my stomach was just constantly in knots. And then that night when you went to bed, you kissed my cheek and it was like it just hit me.” Charlie took the bowl from Owen, and turned to leave the kitchen when Owen spoke again.

“Wait, are we gonna tell Margaux?” Owen questioned, and Charlie stopped, thinking.

“I think we should.” He said after a moment, and Owen nodded.

“Okay.” He agreed. “Let’s do it.”

Trying to figure out how to explain a relationship to a four year old was a difficult thing to do.

“Hey Mags? We have something to tell you.” Charlie started, once they were settled back into her room, the bowl of fruit in her lap. She looked up.

“Yeah?” Charlie took a deep breath.

“Papa and I are dating. Do you know what that means?” He asked. Margaux shook her head.

“No.” She said, eating a piece of apple quietly,

“It means Daddy is my boyfriend, and we like each other very much.” Owen tried to explain.

“Oh, I know that.” Margaux said, and both Owen and Charlie exchanged confused looks.

“How can you know? It only just happened.” Owen questioned.

“But you kissed Daddy at the airport.” Margaux frowned.

“Well, yeah... But we weren’t dating then.” Charlie said. Margaux put the apple back into the bowl and grabbed a piece of banana instead.

“Why?” She asked after a moment.

“Why what?” Charlie questioned.

“Why weren’t you?” She elaborated.

“Um...” Charlie hesitated. “We just hadn’t decided to yet.”

“Okay.” She went silent. “Can I have a boyfriend?”

“Absolutely not.” Charlie said, as Owen cackled with laughter, the serious mood evaporating.

“Why not?” Margaux pouted. “I want a boyfriend too.”

“You’re four!” Charlie exclaimed. Margaux nodded.

“Yeah! I’m a big girl now.” She stated. Charlie shook his head, trying to ignore Owen’s wheezing laughter beside him.

“No boyfriends. Or girlfriends.” Charlie said, and Margaux frowned but accepted the answer. A moment later her eyes lit up again as she looked up at Charlie.

“Are you gonna get married like Mamie and Pépère? And Uncle Jer and Aunty Care?” She questioned, and Owen sobered up quickly.

“Not yet.” He answered, and Charlie stared at him for a few moments, before shaking his head with a smile.

“Maybe one day.” Charlie added. Margaux seemed to like that answer.

“Okay.” She said, grabbing a chunk of watermelon from the bowl.

“Margaux you can’t tell anyone that we’re dating, okay? It’s a secret.” Charlie said seriously, and Margaux grinned, her mouth full of fruit.

“Okay! I’m a good secret keeper.” She mumbled and Charlie smiled.

“You are.” He agreed.

“After my fruit can we watch Julie?” She questioned, and both boys smiled in agreement.

“Of course we can.” Charlie agreed, taking Owen’s hand in his.

His boyfriend’s hand.

Charlie was never going to get tired of that.

Jeremy arrived bright and early the next morning, bringing McDonalds breakfast for all of them.

“Uncle Jeremy!” Margaux squealed, jumping down from her spot on a chair at the bench, while Charlie made himself coffee, and rushing over to greet the third phantom.

“Hey Little Gillespie!” Jeremy replied with just as much excitement, ruffling the four year old’s hair as she clung to his leg. “I missed you.”

“Look how big I got.” Margaux boasted, puffing her chest.

“So much bigger, I almost didn’t recognise you.” Jeremy agreed, and Margaux giggled to herself.

“Daddy says I can’t have a boyfriend.” She informed Jeremy, who laughed.

“I don’t blame him.” He said, heading into the kitchen to place the food on the bench.

“But I want a boyfriend.” Margaux whined, trailing after him.

“Not happening.” Charlie stated, helping her back onto the chair and opening the McDonalds bag.

“So Little Gillespie, if you did get a boyfriend who would it be?” Jeremy asked, taking food from Charlie to place on the bench.

“Hmm...” Margaux paused, her eyes lighting up after a moment. “Tay!”

“Tay as in Taylor Kare?” Charlie questioned and Margaux nodded.

“Yeah!” She giggled. Charlie sighed, dropping his head onto the bench. Jeremy laughed, patting him on the back.

“Or Papa.” Margaux added, a thoughtful look on her face.

“You’re gonna have to fight your dad for that one.” Jeremy joked, and Charlie shook his head, smiling, as he handed Margaux a hashbrown.

“Fight her dad for what?” Owen questioned, entering the room.

“To be your boyfriend.” Jeremy informed him as Owen grabbed one of the cups of orange juice.

“Oh, you told him?” Owen asked, and Charlie’s eyes widened.

“No.” He said softly and Owen choked on his juice.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath.

“Wait so you’re actually dating now?” Jeremy asked, eyes flicking between the two of them.

“Shh! Not allowed to tell.” Margaux exclaimed. Owen sighed.

“It’s okay Maggie, he knows now.” He told her. Margaux looked up at Charlie eagerly.

“Did I keep the secret good Daddy?” She questioned. Charlie smiled, placing a gentle kiss on her head.

“You did an amazing job baby.” He agreed.

“So, how long?” Jeremy asked, taking a bite of his bacon and egg McMuffin.

“Yesterday. Although it would have been longer if the stupid New Years countdown didn’t interrupt me telling Charlie that I was ready to give things a shot.” Owen said, picking at the hotcakes he had chosen.

“Wow, Care and I assumed it would happen a lot earlier than that, after how things were in Hawaii.” Jeremy told them, and Owen shook his head.

“It was my fault, I wasn’t ready to commit to doing anything that might ruin our friendship. It wasn’t until after Christmas Eve when we fu...” Owen trailed off, realising what he was about to say probably wasn’t appropriate. “We uh, yeah, that I figured we were already too far gone and that I really didn’t want to wait any longer.”

“And now I know far too much about your s-e-x life.” Jeremy groaned and Margaux squinted at him.

“What does that spell?” She questioned, and Charlie grabbed another hashbrown for her.

“Nothing important baby.” He said quickly, handing her the hashbrown and effectively distracting her.

“Anyways, Jer, you can’t tell anyone. You’re the only one who knows, other than Maggie.” Owen told him seriously and Jeremy nodded.

“You have my word for it. One condition though.” He said, and Charlie and Owen both raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah?”

“Please do not do any gross couple shit around me.” Jeremy sighed. “I do not need to see you two sucking each others faces.”

“Ew.” Margaux mumbled through a mouthful of hashbrown. Charlie and Owen exchanged a look, clearly thinking the same thing.

“We’ll try.” Owen started.

“But we can’t make any promises.” Charlie finished.

Jeremy groaned slightly, his head falling into his hands as Charlie snaked an arm around Owen’s waist.

“It’s gonna be a long weekend, isn’t it?”

#single dad!charlie #single dad!charlie series #single dad!charlie x owen #charlie gillespie #owen patrick joyner #chowen

84 notes · View notes

wastelandcth · 3 years

Text

Lay it On Me - cth

part of nation of two

summary: Petra stays up one night while Calum's away thinking back on all the happy moments she wishes she could relive. Meanwhile, Calum's dealing with the fear of loving someone after so long.

author’s notes: I hope you guys enjoyed chapter one of Nation of Two and that you enjoy a closer look into Calum and Petra’s little world!

warnings: Not much, just two lovestruck fools missing one another.

masterlist || request || previous part || next part

Sometimes, Petra’s life felt like it was something out of a cheesy romance novel, she felt herself craving to reread the pages that made her cheeks flush and heart race. The pages that had made up her life. She’d stay up at night when she was alone, staring up at the ceiling as she tried to relive the moments she’d treasured so much. She wasn't sure how long she'd been doing this, maybe she had done so her entire life trying to remember the little details of precious moments so they couldn't slip past her.

Most recently, those memories included Calum and his soft laugh.

If she closed her eyes and focused, Petra could almost live through the flower shop exchange. She could feel her heart race as she turned the corner into the vase aisle and was met with a familiar face of a stranger. Calum had been wearing a shirt she'd remembered seeing him wear at some show online, the soft white shirt lined with red fitting his arms and chest so snug it made her lose her breath. His hair was blonde and cut short, making his jaw seem soft and the perfect place for Petra to kiss. His tanned skin was smooth and the tattoos on his arms decorated him like a piece of art. If Petra really concentrated, she could still smell his cologne, the woodsy scent that seemed to be mixed in with something sweet. It wasn't too strong, but she had been close enough to Calum that she could smell it over all the flowers in the store.

When Petra opened her eyes again, the darkness of her room brought her back. The moonlight was filtering in through her window and gave a soft blue hue to everything. Her arms spread out at her side and she felt a pang in her heart as her left hand didn't bump into the warm body she'd gotten used to being there. Calum had been gone for almost a month now, leaving the side of his bed cold and empty. He'd been busy with work and Petra appreciated when he'd have the odd minute or two to call her so they could catch up, even if it had to be two in the morning and her sleep-filled brain could only come up with strange answers. Not that it mattered too much because before the conversations turned into anything meaningful, Calum was saying goodbye and promising to call when he could next.

But Petra still loved him. She loved Calum and the short phone calls, where the only thing that mattered was that he ended them with a quiet I love you and kissy noises. She loved the Calum who was living his dream every night out on a stage in front of thousands of people. The Calum who at the end of every show would snap a picture and sent it to Petra with another cheesy pickup line or a joke he'd heard that day. Petra was in love with the Calum who would call her in a rush and babbled out some story where his brain worked faster than his mouth and his giggles warmed Petra's heart from halfway across the world. Even in the darker days, when they both craved to feel the touch of the other and their usual happy interactions were clouded over with a pang of sadness. Petra knew it would all be worth it when she was in the arms of her lover in a week's time.

"Can't sleep?" Calum's groggy voice rang out into the darkness of the room.

"I got too used to having you sleep next to me, jerk," Petra laughed, her eyes falling back onto the small screen next to her head, "You're seriously not gonna let me see your new haircut yet? I'll see it all over the internet by lunchtime tomorrow, you know that?"

"Yeah, you might," Calum laughed, "It's a surprise though! You love surprises,"

"I also love running my hands through your curls," she snorted and shook her head, "I just miss your cute face."

"I miss your cute face too," Calum chuckled, letting out a sigh as Luke called his name out from outside the tour bus, "I've got to go, but I'll talk to you soon, okay? Try and get some sleep, darling."

And with that, Petra was thrown back into the silence of her dark room. The sun would be up in a few hours and that would mean she definitely wasn't getting any sleep so she closed her eyes and begged her brain to let her drift off. Eventually, her breathing evened out and the pillow she'd been using as a replacement for Calum lulled her into sleep.

Arpeggiated chords rang out from the room next to the entrance where Petra had been standing, the chill from outside hitting the back of her neck as she pushed the door closed with her foot. The house was warm and Petra could smell the soup that was brewing in the kitchen but her legs lead her towards the soft music that was playing in the living room. In the corner of the room, near the big windows that show the snowy landscape that Petra had been out exploring just a few minutes earlier, Calum was sat by the piano. His eyes were focused on the keys in front of him, his fingers working over them as if he'd played the piano his whole life. With every note he played, Petra felt herself drawing closer and closer to him, her hands landing on the softness of his shoulders with a soft squeeze.

"How was your walk?" Calum asked, the soft music coming to a stop that left the house feeling empty and Calum was glad Petra's hands were on him, the shiver he'd felt earlier replaced with her warmth.

"It was nice," Petra mumbled, her hands massaging his shoulders and working Calum as he'd worked the keys a few seconds ago, "I like it here."

"I do too," Calum mumbled and leaned back against her touch, "I like being here with just you and the snow and the piano."

"It's nice," she agreed, her eyes looking out the window as the snowfall began again, "Complete opposite of our beach dates,"

"We can just stay in and watch the snow, eat some delicious soup," he mumbled and hit a few more notes on the piano before standing up to wrap his arms around Petra, "Maybe watch a movie or read a book."

"That sounds lovely, we can keep warm by the fire and hope that no bears find this place too cozy and try to break in," Petra laughed.

In the haziness of her sleep and the sunlight hitting her face, Petra could still hear the warmth in Calum's voice when he'd read to her that night next to the fireplace. She could still feel the way his arms were wrapped around her as he read about the highlands of Scotland. How his voice felt like a warm blanket and how the grassy hills of the Scottish countryside filled Petra with the urge to explore them with Calum. As the memory of her dreams slowly faded and the sunlight warmed her face, Petra found herself alone in bed, wishing she could hear Calum's soft voice and his best try at a Scottish accent.

Calum had been staring out the window of the tour bus for hours, watching as the landscapes changes from desert mountains to a lush forest with trees that went back as far as his eyes could see. He'd been sitting in the backroom for so long the sun had gone down and the stars were twinkling above him, the room now dark and the bus silent as his bandmates slept the night away. Calum usually never had trouble sleeping on the bus, he was usually exhausted from the busy days tour had him working. But ever since the start of this tour, where he'd left Petra behind for a few months while he left to promote the latest album the band had released, he'd had trouble sleeping.

The silence on the bus hadn't helped either, it had made Calum's thoughts louder and even the movie playing quietly in the back room hadn't stopped his thoughts from running faster than the cars that sped past them in the night. Calum was exhausted, how could he not be when the band had done back-to-back shows for the past week paired up with endless interviews during the day. The only time the band had a real break was during the drives between stops and even then, it was only a few hours spent sleeping or reviewing what that next week would look like for them as a band.

Calum had noticed how tired he looked. He saw it every morning when he washed his face in the tiny bathroom, how his eyes were puffy and the darkness under them gave away just how exhausted he was. He saw it when the label sent them promo clips to approve and his smile didn't reach his eyes. He saw it when the other guys laughed and joked around with one another while he stood off to the side, quiet and yearning for a nap. He was pretty sure that if he could see how tired he was, the rest of the world could see just how far gone he was. And that meant that Petra could see how tired he was.

Fuck, Calum missed Petra. She had been such a constant source of Calum's happiness in the months leading up to this promo tour that Calum hadn't realized how much he'd miss having her around. Petra's name meant rock, something Calum found ironic since she was the one who was always grounding him, and in many ways, Petra was his rock. She was the one that Calum found himself drifting towards when he needed to feel more like himself again. She was the one who would always hold his hand when he needed it and would listen to Calum's mumbling whenever he'd decided to let his brain talk. She was his rock and Calum missed the hell out of her.

He'd been trying to write more while on tour, figuring he might as well put his insomnia to use. His old journal had been used up and Calum had been regretting having to buy another one. That was until Petra had shown up with a going-away present, the brown paper bag she'd been holding was decorated with flowers and hearts. At first, Calum had been confused, because he didn't know going away presents were a thing and he hadn't gotten Petra anything. But after she'd kissed his cheek and told him it was nothing serious, Calum's nerves settled and he opened the bag to find a leather journal, much like his old one, with his initials stamped on the side of the binding.

"So you can keep writing those pretty songs," Petra had mumbled, her cheeks flushed as she played with the bracelet that Calum had given her a few weeks back, "Or just to keep your mind off of things."

Calum had been writing in the journal every chance he got, the unlined pages filling with song ideas and little doodles that Calum found helpful. He'd write about his day sometimes, whenever something memorable happened that he wanted to remember in order to tell Petra or his mom later on. He even sometimes sketched what he saw out the window of the tour bus, although those were never really any good. It wasn't until that night that Calum had been lost in the landscape that he noticed a page near the back of the book had been folded. It was only on the top corner, a fold so small Calum had wondered if he'd done it himself on accident and it wasn't until he turned to the page that he realized what had happened. The page, which had been filled with doodles and handwriting that wasn't Calum's, warmed his heart and made him smile for the first time in weeks. His fingertips traced over the words, almost as if he could feel Petra's touch through them, almost as if he could see her writing in the middle of the night much like Calum did nowadays.

"I know you might be tired and stressed. That you might miss home and Duke and everything that brings you warmth. But your dreams will always be important to not only you but those who you make come true as well. I don't know when you'll read this or if you'll even find it while you're away but I hope it brings a smile to your face. The world deserves to see that pretty smile you reserve for only special moments. They deserve to hear your thoughts and that laugh that makes my heart race. I hope you don't mind that I stole one page from your notebook, it seemed like a fitting gift to give you, better than a piece of paper in your coat.

Thank you for letting me into your world and letting me find your love. I'll forever be grateful.

I love you to the end of the universe and even further.

Petra."

Calum's smile, the one he'd reserved for Petra apparently, hurt his cheeks. He'd reread the note over and over, soaking in her words and if he closed his eyes and tried hard enough, he could almost hear her saying them to him herself. The promo tour might long and lonely, but that didn't mean that Calum hadn't had a piece of home with him the entire time. With a deep breath and his blanket wrapped around his shoulders, Calum walked back to his bunk. The journal was tucked under his pillow as if Petra herself had been captured between the pages and Calum could just open it and see her again whenever he felt alone.

Calum's eyes felt tired and the more he relaxed on the bunk, the more he realized just how much his life had changed since finding Petra. He'd never had to deal with leaving a loved one while touring. He never had to deal with the time zones fucking up his calls or having to wait hours for a text back from someone because they were asleep as he was waking up. He never had to worry about whether his partner was missing him and much as he missed them. But then he met Petra and that all changed. Leaving her bed that morning had been hell, he'd dragged himself out of the apartment, trying not to convince himself to turn around as he hit traffic on the highway and go back to the warmth of her bedroom. He'd closed his eyes and held her a little longer as he'd said goodbye to her by the kitchen that morning and it was all so new and different that Calum hadn't expected to have it hit him so roughly.

He hadn't expected to push all his defenses down and become so vulnerable for someone before. So when his plane had taken off and the city had become a blur of streets and then hidden beneath clouds, Calum wanted nothing more than to be back with Petra. But he had her note, safe in the journal with his initials and the page smelled like her perfume so maybe it'd be okay. Maybe Calum would smile a little brighter during the meet and greets and he'd chuckle a little louder during the interviews and make sure he spoke his mind a little more often. Even as his eyes squinted at the dim screen in front of him, his fingers typing out a message to the love of his life, he couldn't believe how lucky he was to have Petra in his life. With his phone set next to him and his heart happy, Calum's eyes closed and for the first time in weeks, he got some well-deserved sleep.

Petra woke up a few hours later, alone once again, but her heart warmed at the sight of the notification on her screen. She knew that Calum had been having a rough time on tour recently and she was hoping that he'd find her letter soon. The message she'd hidden in the middle of a journal he'd held so close to him ever since it became his. Even the chilly air that was coming in from the window Petra had left open couldn't stop the warmth that she felt inside her, knowing that Calum had gotten her message. He was always laying down his love for her, showing it in different ways like how he held her closer whenever he was near or how he'd tell her all about his day even when the rest of the world thought of him as a silent man. Petra knew that it wasn't true, that the Calum she knew and loved would talk off her ear if given the chance, which she often did give him.

She knew that he would have a hard time being away, he was a homebody and he'd be gone for a while, so with shaky hands and a heart full of love, she'd written down the words she'd so rarely had the courage to utter to him, the words she held so close to herself in fear that he'd slip away. But Calum was always surprising her and it hadn't been too much of a shock to know he appreciated the message. Calum's love was always finding her, even when the bed was lonely and he was miles away. She'd been staring at the message for while, her fingers ghosting over her screen as her heart raced and her smile widened with every reread of it.

She'd reply eventually, once her cheeks stopped blushing and her smile stopped making her jaw hurt. But for now, the early morning sun lulled her back to sleep and her eyes closed slowly. She hoped that she'd dreamed about the snowy cabin and the hills of Scotland again, but really, any dream with Calum in it would be worthwhile.

"Thank you for the beautiful words, you've always known exactly what to say when I need it the most. I love you forever, rock."

taglist: @hoodhoran @finelliine @moonlightcriess @dinosaursandsocks @mxgyver @calpops @karajaynetoday @notlukehemmo @calumrose @devilatmydoor @lyss-xo @lowkeyflop @notinthesameguey @hemmo1996-5sosvevo @ashtonsunflower @2fangirl4u @multistann @himbohood @in-superbloom @suchalonelysunflower @killmywildflower @sebsbrokentoe

#calum hood x reader #calum hood x oc #calum hood blurbs #calum hood imagines #calum hood fics #5sos x reader #5sos x oc #5sos blurbs #5sos imagines #5sos fics #calum hood #5sos #5 seconds of summer #gemma writes #nation of two ch #5sos oneshots

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lulu-zodiac · 3 years

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Title: You'll Know All I Haven't Said

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: Fluff, First Kiss, Pining, AU

Summary: Cas has always had an unnerving knack for knowing what Dean wants the most, even before Dean knows it himself.

If you want to be added to my fic tag list, let me know! <3

Cas always gives the best presents.

Dean knows it’s something to do with his unnervingly observant nature, the way he’s so tuned into the people around him. Or maybe just Dean. The thought makes something unfurl in Dean’s stomach that’s feels a bit like fear, or anticipation maybe. It happens a lot when he thinks of Cas, these days. Which is a lot, if Dean is being totally honest. Cas is his best friend, has been since they were both eight years old, so it’s normal that he occupies a lot of space in Dean’s head. It’s just that these days – sometimes it’s so much that it scares Dean, just a little. Because he knows there isn’t much time left where Cas will be a daily fixture of his life; next fall, they’re both heading off to college and everything’s going to be different.

That’s why, Dean tells himself, he’s spent so much time trying to think of what to give Cas this Christmas. It’s hard to top Cas’s gift-giving skills. He has always had an unnerving knack for somehow knowing exactly what Dean wants, even before Dean knows it himself. Not that Dean would tell him, but all his most treasured gifts over the years have all been from Cas. A wonky, handmade wooden impala car Cas made in his Dad’s workshop when he was twelve. Zeppelin concert tickets the Christmas they were both fifteen. Last year, an anthology of Neruda with Cas’s scrawling writing on the opening page, which Dean has read more than the poems the book contains (not that he’d admit that to Cas).

The only problem with Cas being so amazing at choosing gifts is that Dean always feels under pressure to match Cas’s presents, give him something that he’ll treasure as much as Dean treasures the gifts Cas gives him. And the thing is, Cas is hard to buy for, hard to read, a lot of the time. Even though Dean spends more time with Cas than anyone else, and spends even more time thinking about Cas, he’s never quite sure what’s going on in his head. And that makes it difficult, because Dean so wants to make this last Christmas before they both go their separate ways special.

The thought of not being around Cas every day makes his whole chest ache, so Dean tries not to do it. But sometimes it just creeps up on him and it’s like having a bucket of ice water poured over him, a constant knife in his chest that twists deeper and deeper as it gets closer to the time he knows they’ll have to say goodbye. It’s not just about parting ways – Dean knows there’s no way he and Cas won’t stay best friends. But it's like there's also something that Dean's always been waiting for that might not get to happen, that graduating and leaving for college might get in the way of, and even though Dean has no idea what it is he’s waiting for, the idea that it might get pushed aside, might never happen, is somehow unbearable.

After a week of agonising over options, it’s finally Christmas Eve and Dean is standing on Cas’s doorstep, breath clouding out in front of him in the frosty air. There’s small parcel in the pocket of his leather jacket that he fiddles with nervously as he waits, feeling the bumps of his own bad gift-wrapping skills. His stomach flips over inexplicably when the hall lights flicker on there’s the sound of keys in the lock.

“Dean,” Cas smiles, quiet but sincere, and stands back to let Dean in. Dean is hit, as he is not infrequently these days, by how good-looking Cas has become. He’s not built but he’s lean, strong-looking, with a kind of grace about the way he carries himself. Tonight, he’s wearing an indigo knitted sweater that he got in a thrift store with Dean last year, and it makes the blue of his gaze feel infinite as it sweeps over Dean, familiar and warm.

“Hey,” Dean smiles stupidly, suddenly feeling self-conscious as he steps into the hallway. It’s warm and smells faintly of incense and home-baking, but they don’t linger, heading straight up the stairs to Cas’s room as usual.

“Very festive,” Dean remarks as Cas closes the door behind them, noting the multi-coloured fairy lights Cas has strewn around the window, glowing softly and casting the room into muted colours. Dean secretly prefers Cas’s room to his; he’s spent so much time in it over the years that it feels just as much like home, maybe even a little more because it has Cas in it.

“Thanks,” Cas is standing by the door, arms folded across his chest as he watches Dean inspect his bookshelf, run his fingertip along the spines. “There’s a new one there for you, if you want it.” His expression is uncharacteristically unreadable. Not that Cas is easy to read – not by any stretch of the imagination. But Dean’s spent a long time mapping out his different expressions and mannerisms, and it’s not often these days that he’s faced with one he can’t place at all. This one is not unfamiliar, though. It’s one he’s noticed playing across Cas’s features increasingly often in recent months, generally when he glances up and catches Cas off guard. It’s an expression that niggles away at the back of Dean’s mind when he’s trying to get to sleep at night, gets under his skin.

Dean looks reluctantly away from Cas and back to the shelves, eyeing them more closely. His hand pauses on an unfamiliar hardback, Bluebeard by Vonnegut. “This?”

“If you want it,” Cas says, and Dean thinks he detects a note of apprehension beneath the warmth, a kind of distraction, as though he’s thinking about something else, which is a sharp contrast to his often unnerving focus that’s usually directed Dean’s way.

“Thanks,” Dean takes the book of the shelf and flips through the pages, catches a few flashes of Cas’s dextrous scrawl.

“Don’t – don’t read my notes now,” Cas crosses the room, takes the book from Dean’s hands and closes it. “Not when I’m here.”

Dean eyes him curiously. One of his favourite things about Cas lending him books all the time is getting to read Cas’s private thoughts filling the margins. “Is this my Christmas present? Not like you to forgo the fancy paper and the chance to upstage my gift-wrapping skills.”

A smile pulls at the corner of Cas’s mouth, his eyes crinkle with quiet amusement even though the nervousness doesn’t dissipate, Dean notes. “No, it’s not your present.”

“Then where is it?” Dean asks, glancing around the room – but there’s no sight of a gift. Just the soft glow of the fairy lights and Cas’s notebooks on his desk, a couple of jumpers hanging over the back of his chair, the little cactus Dean gave him for his birthday two years ago sitting stoutly on his bedside table.

“You’re very demanding,” Cas admonishes, handing the book back to Dean and crossing the room to sit down on one end of the window seat, curling up like a cat. There’s a twinkle of amusement in his blue gaze, but he pulls the sleeves of his jumper down over his hands, something Dean knows he only does when he’s nervous. The thought makes a pang of nerves curl through Dean too, although he doesn’t know why, doesn’t know why it feels like they’re waiting for something.

“Well, you’re very mysterious,” Dean counters, flopping down on the other end of the window-seat and pushing one of his socked feet playfully at Cas’s. “And unnervingly good at presents, which is why I’m so particularly demanding today. I’m expecting great things. How is that you always seem to know exactly what I want?”

“I very much hope that’s true this year,” Cas says, quiet in a way that makes Dean catch his breath, inexplicably nervous too. He’s looking down, still fiddling with the stray thread from the cuff of his jumper. His expression is uncharacteristically vulnerable in the soft light, messy dark hair and wide eyes so blue that they make Dean’s heart fumble a beat in his chest when Cas suddenly looks up, holds Dean’s gaze. It’s very quiet, the space between them. Dean feels very aware of his heart, doesn’t know why it’s suddenly going quite so fast. “You go first,” Cas says, low, eyes intent and full of something, and it takes Dean a moment to remember what they’re talking about.

“Oh – yeah, okay,” he stutters, feeling his cheeks flush as he fumbles in the pocket of his jacket and pulls out the package he’d wrapped earlier. “Look – don’t get too excited. You know I’m not great at presents, but I wanted to do something special, because you know –” he breaks off, trying to push down the sudden sharpness in his chest, “This might be the last Christmas we spend together, and I don’t want you to go forgetting me when you’re off being all genius at some school I’d never be able to get into.” He thrusts the present unceremoniously at Cas. “Badly wrapped as usual, sorry,” he adds, as an afterthought.

“Dean,” Cas is holding the wrapped present, but he’s not looking at it. He’s looking at Dean with the kind of familiar, earnest sincerity that makes Dean’s heart ache, that he’s going to miss so much. “There is no chance of me ever forgetting you,” Cas says slowly, and the something in his gaze deepens, turning into something that makes Dean feel simultaneously as though he wants to look away and never look away again. The space between them suddenly feels intimate, theirs. Just the two of them, the way Dean always aches for when it’s not.

“Thanks,” Dean says, gathering himself, but his voice sounds unsteady to his own ears, like he suddenly feels. Off-kilter, dizzy, like they’re both spinning into orbit. “Okay, okay, open the goddamn present already,” Dean mumbles, awkward, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if Cas keeps looking at him like that, and he’s afraid of how much he wants to find out.

Cas looks at him a beat longer, before dropping his attention to the present, unwrapping it carefully with his long, dextrous fingers. There’s a moment when he pulls the leather-bound album out of the shell of wrapping where Dean feels hot all over, embarrassed by his own sentiment. He digs his nails into his palm, watches as Cas opens it and goes still, reading Dean’s inscription. There’s a long pause, and then he turns the first page, and then the next and the next, looking at the photos of him and Dean that Dean has collected from over the years: the two of them togged up in winter coats and red welly boots, making snow-angels in Dean’s back garden; Cas aged ten with a tearstained face, watching as Dean puts a band-aid on his grazed knee; both of them on their first day of middle school, Cas moody with pins all over his jacket and scruffy converse sneakers, Dean grinning with his letterman; Cas, windswept and smiling two summers ago, lying on a sandy beach and gazing up at Dean with that a hint of that something Dean can’t get out of his head now.

Cas finally looks up at him, eyes so blue it hurts to look at them. “Thank you, Dean,” his voice is slightly hoarse. “This –” he breaks off, swallows, turning the album over in his hands. “This must have taken you ages.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean mumbles gruffly, cheeks heating up. His heart is racing, and he wants to change the subject, take the focus away from how intimate the present suddenly feels now that Cas is holding all their memories in his hands. “Anyway, enough of that. I’m glad you like it, but you know I can’t handle chick flick moments. Come on, your turn. Where’s mine?”

The unreadable look is back on Cas’s face with more intensity, combined with something Dean definitely recognises as nervousness now. Cas’s chest is rising and falling more rapidly, eyes wider than usual, cheeks slightly flushed as he holds Dean’s gaze, almost like he’s steeling himself for something. “Okay,” he says, seemingly more to himself than to Dean. Okay, close your eyes.”

“What?” Dean blinks.

“Close them,” Cas says, with slightly more authority, but Dean can see the way Cas’s fingers are trembling where he’s still holding all of their memories, their whole friendship in his hands. Cas glances down at it unreadably, like it’s suddenly fragile, and then back at Dean. He swallows, repeats, “Dean,” quietly imploring.

Dean closes his eyes. Cas’s gaze and the fairy lights all fade into to soft shadow. Vision gone, Dean suddenly feels very aware of the proximity between them, the almost imperceptible warmth of Cas beside him, the way their thighs are pressed lightly together. Dean has a sudden urge to nudge his closer to Cas’s, to close all the gaps and feel how warm Cas really is. He breathes in, suddenly breathless, and is overwhelmed by the smell of Cas’s skin, familiar and musky, a hint of the patchouli incense he always burns when he’s working. The smell of home. Dean’s heart is suddenly racing so hard it hurts. “Cas?”

Cas is silent. There’s a pause that might be a single heartbeat or the whole last ten years, and then there’s warm, tentative pressure against Dean’s mouth. Cas’s lips, silken soft and hot, brushing tenderly, slowly, against his. Cas’s hands cupping his face, rough and warm and trembling, holding him still as the world spins away into nothing. Cas’s breath, gentle and unsteady against Dean’s mouth, punctuating the kiss.

Dean’s eyes fly open, and the first thing he sees is blue. Deep, exhilarating blue. Like the sky at that moment just between dusk and darkness. And then he’s drowning. He ducks forward and captures Cas’s mouth again with his, stomach somersaulting at the stifled sound Cas makes, like he thought Dean wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t want this. The heat unfurling deep Dean’s chest intensifies at the way Cas’s hands grab at the front of Dean’s shirt, clumsy and desperate, the way Cas shifts closer, all warmth. Cas’s mouth is hot and wet and perfect, tongue twining with Dean’s as they kiss, pressing so close together that their noses nudge together, that Dean’s not sure who’s heartbeat belongs to who anymore.

When they break apart for breath, Cas’s cheeks are flushed and his eyes are dark and shining. He’s so beautiful Dean aches with it.

“Merry Christmas, Dean,” Cas says, voice low and heavy in a way that makes arousal curl through Dean. His eyes are full of quiet happiness, and that something that Dean hasn’t been able to get out of his head for months. It’s wonderful to finally know what it is, to know that it is this. Dean feels like he’s floating.

“Merry Christmas,” Dean echoes, dazedly, and his voice sounds as rough as Cas’s. He shakes his head, smiling in disbelief. “I told you that you always know what I want before I do,” he pauses, “Though, amazing as all the others were, I think this present might just top the list.” Dean is vaguely aware that he’s grinning giddily, heart still pounding.

“I wasn’t sure you’d like it,” Cas admits, looking down, and Dean catches a hint of the nervousness Cas was full of earlier, that makes sense now. Dean feels a rush of warmth for him at the courage it must have taken to cross that line, to take a whole ten years of friendship in his hands and do what Dean never had the courage for.

“Hey,” Dean reaches out, twines their hands together. It’s reassuring the way he can feel Cas trembling a bit too, reminding him they’re both in this together, it’s just the two of them, the way Dean likes it best. “Cas. It’s the best present I’ve ever had,” he says, honestly. Cas looks up and smiles at him, brighter than the lights above them, than anything Dean’s ever known – and Dean suddenly has to rethink his words, because Cas looking at him like that, so full of love and happiness, is better than anything Dean could ever have imagined.

#reorganising all my destel fics onto tumblr!#feedback makes me very happy <3 #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fluff #dean winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #spn fanfiction #spn fandom #my stuff #my posts: fanfic

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smellycinnamonthundahfudge · 3 years

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fuck it. have the five page essay-ish thing i wrote on hoax.

it's so underrated and contains so many references to taylor's one great true love... that she lost.

(but there's also a bit about what the album cover means since i just think it adds to the evidence of something)

Let me take you on a journey, more specifically, the journey taylor’s music brought me to.

But fine for irl context, and disclaimer as well, I’m a new swiftie.

Yes, folklore was the one that really really pulled me in.

I’ve always loved her music, those that I knew of anyways, and she’s always held a special place in my heart and some part of me always knew that I was always going to explore her discography someday… and those days and months of exploring aforementioned music finally arrived.

So, for context, I’ll say that I mostly loved her bops. I always knew and loved her as that teenage girl feeling of wanderlust, and just wonder, and sweetness, and love…

That was what taylor was to me, the feeling of love.

It’s only when I very quite recently really really grew up and at the same time, taylor’s most popular music at the time, folklore, also happened to be really grown up, is when I realized and found out that taylor always had this depth to her.

So, for me, debut to speak now and half of red will always have that child-like wanderstruck look of awe and love vibe and feeling to me, cause nostalgia, it’s what I spent my life thinking of it and her as.

Also it’s been some time since I fully listened to those albums, so the journey/throughline narrative that I see from taylor’s discography is

Debut – young kid figuring it all out, emotional but sweet

Fearless – growth, ambition, dreams, complexity of wanting someone you know you’re not supposed to

Speak now – cinematic movie like quality of storytelling, these are fantasies, epics, novels all on their own, legend

Red – reckless abandon, intense extreme adult love, and also growth

1989 – true love, actual adulthood, scandal, gossip, hiding, protecting what’s important, dwindling mercurial highs

Rep - …

One thing that I started to notice only on 1989 and then it looked to be the case for the ff albums too, is that the latter half of one album oft bleeds onto the next one

So like the sound of I know places and even kinda wonderland to some extent, is very similar to reputation’s sound.

Then idk, new year’s day being a really sweet love song transitioning into lover

And then it’s nice to have a friend’s simple acoustic nostalgia & daylight’s nature imagery transitioning into folklore

And theeenn I’m betting the lakes as a positive song is a foreshadowing for the more softer positive outlook evermore is going to have, compared to folklore at least

But I honestly believe that if you look at the albums themselves, debut to speak now and red all seem to be about fleeting romances that pass and go

But 1989, that’s when things start to get real, and I believe, that’s when taylor really starts to get her muse…

Cause if you look at from 1989 to folklore evermore heck even to the rerelease of fearless and red…

These songs seem to be stemming from one relationship

A relationship that’s secret, that’s fragile and delicate, and complicated and complex

And correct me if I’m wrong, but…

Is king of my heart the first time taylor ever used the term, the one???

The one real thing you’ve ever known?? All too well

One touch you are in love??? One step one night

Point is, I think starting from 1989, most of the songs taylor wrote and sung about could all be attributed to just one person.

A tumultuous complex but nevertheless real and true love.

And I bring up the one connection because the one clearly parallels king of my heart

And all at once, YOU ARE THE ONE I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR

why would taylor write about losing someone that she thought she was the one if the person you think it’s about is still supposedly with her when she wrote it?

And finally, in taylor’s announcement of folklore, she wrote about an exiled man walking the bluffs of a land that isn’t his own, wondering how it all went so terribly, terribly wrong.

And in its music video, you get the same imagery?

…

You know where, … you… also… get… the same… exact… imagery…?

The folklore album cover.

Where it’s taylor, walking, in the middle, so small in the grand vast bluffs of a land that wasn’t her own.

In every single music video for every folklore song, the only ONE, THE ONLY ONE, where you get the same imagery, the same color palette as the album cover, is exile.

Which is about someone, a man walking the bluffs of a land that isn’t his own.

So if taylor is the man, then she’s

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Guess who she has a close relationship with, who betrayed her, who got married to someone else?

*regina george anger screaming*

Me is a breakup song.

Taylor rereleasing red second has so much more weight to it now.

“In the land of heartbreak, moments of strength, independence, and devil-may-care rebellion are intricately woven together with grief, paralyzing vulnerability and hopelessness.”

moments of strength, independence, and devil-may-care rebellion – me, I PROMISE THAT YOU’LL NEVER FIND ANOTHER LIKE ME.

WATCH MISS AMERICANA AND I DARE YOU TO NOT SEE ME AS A SPITEFUL/VINDICTIVE/REBELLIOUS BREAK UP SONG

grief, paralyzing vulnerability and hopelessness – FOLKLORE.

Then I guess, fine… we’ll get to why hoax is so fucking meaningful yet you don’t understand why it is.

Yes, my only one.

Smoking gun.

I saw someone call this a reference to the fire and ash in mtr, but I also think of this as someone being your one weakness…

Think about it like this, in reputation

And what if the one person who kept you alive through all that

Betrayed you too.

Taylor talks so deeply and passionately over how much this person matters, they were her smoking gun.

Because they were what kept her going through the death of her reputation.

When no one trusted her that one person did.

They were her smoking gun.

My eclipsed sun.

Lover ended with daylight.

Taylor called reputation as night time.

And now what once was daylight has now been eclipsed over, by betrayal grief sadness desolation.

(darling this was just as hard as when they pulled me apart, folklore is as dark as rep)

Winless fight – ma & thp, fight that someday we’re gonna win.

They or she didn’t.

Frozen ground brings me back to holy ground and to doht, my love had been frozen

The imagery of hoax’s lv, is of a cliffside overlooking an ocean

Which brings me back to gorgeous, of OCEAN blue eyes looking in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Screaming, similar to mtr’s I still talk to you when I’m screaming at the sky

(sidenote might not related to taylor references, but that line gives me hopelessness give me a reason to live vibes, and what with gorgeous’ line of sink and drown and die and this is me trying’s Pulled the car off the road to the lookout Could've followed my fears all the way down…

Anw… the sidenote is cause that feeling of hopelessness just really resonates with me personally, kind of the type screaming at the universe, at whatever’s out there why… sigh…)

Faithless love – false god

Hoax – illicit afairs

Blue… rep (delicate)

Best laid plan – dbatc, paper cut stings from our paper thin plans

Sleight of hand???

Five whole minutes pack us up leave me with it???

Could barren land also be bluffs of a land that isn’t his own?? Idk… *shruggie*

Ash from your fire mtr

New york, DBATC, 1989, false god, cornelia street

Hero died, remember when I said I’d die for you? False god

What’s the movie for, exile, I think I’ve seen this film before

You knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart

Like I said, reputation… who was her saving grace/smoking gun from all that

THEY WERE THE ONE, THE ONLY ONE, TAYLOR HAD WHEN SHE WAS PULLED APART

SO THEY KNEW, THEY KNEW HOW MUCH IT HURT HER

BUT THEY BETRAYED HER ANYWAYS.

Password let you in the door, I knew you’d come back to me, front porch light cardigan

What you did was just as dark, just as hard

Why wouldn’t it be?

They were the one she had throughout all that turmoil… yet they betrayed her too…

Kingdom come undone – komh, we rule the kingdome inside my room

Beaten my heart – KOMH, dbatc

The feeling of thinking you found the one, the one you’re going to spend the rest of your life with… the one you would throw away all of this for…

Don’t want no other shade of blue but you, no other sadness in the world would do

You don’t want anyone else but them if they were the one you were going to throw it all away for…

You don’t wanna say goodbye…

You just wanna keep feeling the pain, the love, the conflict that you had with them…

You don’t wanna say goodbye

#hoax #folklore #hoax taylor swift #taylor swift #i love you taylor #gaylor swift #writing #songs #music #love #<3

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broadstbroskis · 3 years

Text

ivy- morgan rielly

a/n: i wrote a thing, don’t hate me. very much inspired by ivy from the absolutely incredible new tswift evermore album (you should listen to the whole thing if you havent already and def this song)

warnings: infidelity (it’s a central theme), angst (lots)

-----

The arm draped over her waist tightens just as Ophelia begins to move away. She bites her lip and closes her eyes and she feels Morgan bury his face in her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t go.” He whispers.

“I have to.” She wouldn’t. She’d stay here all night if she could. She’d stay until morning, she’d stay forever...but she can’t. “You know that.” It’s just as quiet, as if they’re both afraid of breaking the spell over them, but by now, they both know that prolonging the inevitable leads only to more pain, more difficulty leaving.

Morgan presses another kiss to the top of her head before rolling away; she feels the cold of his absence immediately, a loss that’s going to stay with her until she manages to find an escape to be with him again.

Her clothes are scattered everywhere tonight, it seems, which merely means she feels Morgan’s eyes following her around his room as she gathers them. “Stop that.”

There’s the smallest of smiles of his face when she looks up at him, after pulling her sweater back on. “Stop looking at you? Never.” And she’s really supposed to be leaving, but how’s Ophelia not supposed to kiss him after that?

Morgan’s thumb strokes over her cheek after they break apart, a gentle caress that expresses so much of all the things she knows he can’t-or won’t-say. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”

“I will.” Ophelia squeezes his hand gently, understanding the true message behind his words, the I love you, that’s just too much to say outright. And then, because it’s too much for her to actually say goodbye, she squeezes his hand once more, and then slips out of his room.

It’s dark still when she opens the door to her apartment a few floors down and the silence is deafening. By all accounts, it should be warmer and homier than the bachelor pad she just left. She’d put a lot of work and effort into making it a home, a place for a relationship to grow, to start a family.

Right now, it just felt cold and unwelcoming, and Ophelia drops her keys on the table by the door in their usual spot, making a beeline for the master bathroom, not turning any lights on in the apartment until she makes it there. The sound of the shower finally drowns out the silence that’s ringing around her, stops her thoughts from running wild, and only when she steps inside does she let the tears fall.

-----

Ophelia blinks once, and then again, adjusting her eyes to the bright sun shining in through the windows. The other side of the bed is empty, but warm still, like it’s only been recently vacated, and she musters up the energy to climb out of bed and find her slippers before she wanders out into the kitchen.

“‘Morning.” Jon’s scrolling through his phone at the table, likely checking emails, or possibly moved onto his morning social media read thru, his coffee still steaming in front of him. “There’s more in the pot.”

“Thanks.” She returns the small smile he’d sent her and pours a mug for herself, settling in at the table next to him and taking a moment to get used to the usual silence. “When’d you get in last night?”

Jon hums for a second, like he’s thinking about it. “3, I think?”

“Jesus.” She shakes her head; she doesn’t need to look at the clock to know that it’s too early for him to be up and dressed to go back to the office already then. “You need to sleep more.”

Jon stands up with his mug and kisses the top of her head. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

The thing is, she’s not sure he’s kidding. It’s an attitude that he shares with the rest of his firm, a top financial group filled with people just like Jon, always pushing themselves to do the absolute most. It’s not-she’d never begrudge him his success, but really, how well can he be taking care of himself when all he does is go to work, go to the gym, and travel for days at a time?

“That’ll be sooner than you think if you keep going on four hours of sleep.” Ophelia chides gently, standing to send him off.

Jon laughs. “I’ll be home early tonight; how’s that? We’ll go out somewhere for dinner and then come back to bed,” He waggles his eyebrows. “And then go to bed.”

“Hmm, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ophelia says, and accepts the kiss he presses to her cheek on his way out the door.

(He doesn’t make it to dinner, but Ophelia's not shocked; she hadn’t bothered to change out of her gym clothes and orders takeout for herself instead.)

-----

Probably a long shot, but are you free at 3 to go see a house? Ophelia sends Jon the second their realtor confirms the showing, unsurprised when he sends back a thumbs down emoji. She sighs, and confirms with the realtor that she’ll be attending alone-again-and then scrolls around the neighborhood, looking at other houses for sale. If she’s going all the way out to Etobicoke, she may as well check out a few others while she’s there.

Showings confirmed, she dresses for the spin class she’s hitting first and makes her way downstairs, catching Morgan in the parking garage. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He smiles. He’s got a couple teammates with him, the only thing stopping her from burying her face in his neck and slipping her hands into his hoodie pocket. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” She answers truthfully. It’s been a couple days since they’ve talked, longer since she’s seen him, even just in passing like this; he’s been out of town a lot this month for games. “You happy to be home for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Morgan nods, meeting her eyes, and she hadn’t intended the question to be anything more than what it is, but she catches the double meaning in his answer right away. “I am.”

“Yeah.” She catches herself mindlessly agreeing with him, forgetting about the teammates standing with him watching their every move and smiling gently at Morgan, instead. “It’ll be nice.”

Someone coughs, lightly, but it’s enough to break the moment. She suspects, from the look on Morgan’s face, that whichever one of his friend’s had interrupted had done so on purpose, is putting some kind of story together, and she’s taking that as her cue to go. “I’ll talk to you soon, I’m sure. Catch you in the halls.” She tries to joke, but it falls flat, so she makes her goodbyes instead, and even though they’re not alone, it’s impossible not to reach out and brush her fingers against his arm for just the quickest of touches as she passes.

-----

“What do you think?” Ophelia can feel Pam studying her, but she bites her lip before she answers, knowing that she’s being an absolute pest.

“I just-I don’t really love it.” She says finally, and to her absolute credit, her realtor doesn’t even blink, even though this is the fifth house this afternoon she’s said that exact same thing about.

“What didn’t you love?”

What didn’t she love? Jesus, fucking everything. The bedrooms were too small, the kitchen was laid out terribly, the whole floor plan was a mess. Even petty little things, like the shape of the breakfast nook bothered her about this house. She explains her issues with the house, promising to make a list of what she’s absolutely looking for, and to send over any places she wants to take a look at, before slipping into her car and taking a deep breath.

There’s a text waiting for her from Jon. Going to be late at the office tonight, working on a pitch. Don’t wait up.

Another deep breath. She shoots off a response, a quick ok, and then swipes to another thread. Are you home?

Morgan’s response comes almost immediately. Yeah, just about to order dinner. You want in?

She does, absolutely. Be there in an hour.

Morgan has dinner waiting in takeout containers and plates ready, but Ophelia’s perfectly happy to ignore both of those in favor of pressing herself as close to him as she can and pushing up for a kiss. “Hi.” She says, a little breathlessly.

“I’m certainly not complaining, but what’d I do to deserve that?” He pulls her back in, entangling her fingers with his one hand and using the other to pull her closer. She loves when he holds her like this, keeps her so close that it feels like nothing can come between them, that nothing matters besides the two of them.

She traces a pattern along his hand and feels him pull her in even more tightly. “Just for being you.” It’s a little sappy, too sappy maybe, but she cherishes every moment she’s gotten to spend knowing him and growing with him.

The kiss Morgan pulls her in for at that is soft and promising, but he pulls back, looking as if it almost pains him. “Dinner first?” And because she can hear his stomach rumbling, she nods in agreement, with a smile and the smallest of laughs.

“Dinner first.”

-----

It’s snowing.

It’s snowing and the pond is frozen, but it’s empty, surrounded by evergreens and mountains, already coated in white. The air is crisp, that winter crispness that can only truly be felt in the middle of nowhere, and Ophelia breathes deeply, taking in the distinct scent of winter that she never really gets in Toronto, before it’s overpowered by a familiar one.

When Morgan skates up behind her, he doesn’t stop; instead, he only slows down enough to catch her arm and pull her along with him.

“Morgan!” Ophelia scolds, but she’s laughing when she does, so he can’t possibly take her seriously.

“Ophelia!” He mimics, picking up speed, ignoring her sudden shriek and skating around in front of her to take both of her hands.

“Showoff.” She nods at him, still leading the two of them around the pond, only moving backwards now, so as to still be looking at her.

“Nah, just want to look at that pretty face more.”

When she stops, it doesn’t even catch him off guard; Morgan just glides the half step closer to her, still grinning as she teases him. “You get to look at my face all the time now.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m ever tired of it.” She loves him so much. How open and honest he is, that he always says what he’s thinking, from the sweetest things like that to anything he’s unclear about. His gentle touches, the warm caresses. His stupid dad jokes. She’d spend forever laughing at them just to see the smile on his face when she does.

“Not yet, at least.” She teases. “‘Ever’ is a lot of time.”

“Still not enough.” Morgan says, and then slips one of his hands into his pocket, coming back out with a velvet jewelry box. “Maybe forever?”

“Hey.” It doesn’t sound right, too distant and too unenthusiastic; it doesn’t match the pure joy in Morgan’s eyes looking at her.

“Yes.” She says, smiling and nodding at him.

“Phel,” there’s a gentle nudge against her neck and she blinks awake. There’s Morgan...but…she blinks the fuzziness of the dream away. He looks unhappy, reluctant, and she gets it, suddenly, when he continues. “It’s late.”

“Oh.” She says quietly, swallowing the lump in her throat. He presses a kiss to the back of her neck, another one on the soft skin where it meets her shoulder. “Mo-“ Morgan lifts his head to look at her, but there’s nothing she could say right now that would bring happiness to his face, nothing that would come even close to the unbridled excitement in her dream, so she keeps the memory close to her heart and gives him a soft kiss instead, before she has to go.

-----

“Glass of red, as requested.” Ophelia smiles in thanks as Jon passes her a glass, but her attention is directed at the monstrosity of a tie that his coworker and best friend has shown up to a corporate event wearing.

“Kevin.” She says, and from the grin on his face, her disbelief is clear. “What is that?”

“It’s fashion, Ophelia.” Kevin says, putting an act of superiority on, but then going right back to his usual, kind of goofy, self. “Naw, I found it when we were in Dallas last week. It’s lit, isn’t it?”

“Lit.” She repeats dryly, taking a sip of her wine to hide a smile as he and Jon laugh.

The laughs don’t last long, as the three of them are approached by Jon’s boss, and the small talk begins. There’s a client there they want to land tonight, or at least make dinner plans with for a later date, and that’s top priority, but don’t forget to make time for this person too because their contract is up in March, and of course, you can’t ignore the Leafs, especially not so-and-so from the such-and-such’s office because they’re looking to renew the sponsorship agreement after the season, and...

She blanks on all the names. All she needs to do is smile pretty anyway.

She excuses herself after Keith Williams (the client, who agrees to dinner later in the week, another night she’ll be alone) to refill her wine glass, and is waiting by the bar when she feels someone slide in next to her just a step too close. Instead of feeling tense though, it relaxes her immediately, and she leans against Morgan. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” Ophelia’d noticed him the minute he’d walked the door, noticed the way his suit was perfectly cut, that the navy brought out his eyes, had had a hard time looking away. “You look okay, I guess.”

Morgan laughs. “Okay, I guess?” He repeats, nudging her side.

“Very handsome.” She accepts her glass of wine from the bartender and smiles in thanks before he leaves them. “It’s a good suit on you.”

She’s sure he’s going to make a comment about how it’s an even better suit off him, but they’re interrupted. “Mo!” Someone says behind them, and Ophelia hadn’t even realized how close they were standing, that she’s curling into him and he’s leaning back, until they have to separate to turn around.

“Mitchy.” Morgan greets, sounding as calm as usual, while Ophelia feels like her heart’s going to beat out of her chest. “Finally made it, huh?”

“Matts couldn’t decide on what shoes he wanted to wear.” Mitch grumbles as the blonde next to him snickers into her palm.

“Worth the wait.” Ophelia looks over at the voice and realizes it’s one of the teammates Morgan had over the other week. She quickly realizes from the look on his face that he’s putting together the same pieces.

“Was it though?’ Mitch is asking him. “That’s the last time we agree to carpool.”

He’s ignored though. “We’ve met before, yeah?”

Ophelia nods. “Uh yeah, I live in the same building as Morgan.” She transfers her wine glass to her left hand to offer her right hand out to shake, catches the blonde’s eyes immediately go to her ring, and ignores the feeling in her stomach as she introduces herself to them.

They’re all friendly enough-Auston, Mitch, Mitch’s girlfriend-but she can’t help but feel like they’re just trying to feel her out for something; she makes polite chit-chat for a few minutes and then excuses herself away from them to go back to Jon.

“Hey.” She says quietly, slipping back into his side.

“All good?” He asks quietly. “You were gone for a while.”

She nods. “ Just ran into someone I know.” He hums noncommittally and she feels a moment of fear for Morgan, but then they’re moving toward that guy from the Leafs office he’s supposed to be talking with and he’s back to all business.

-----

“Can we talk about this later?” Jon zips his suitcase and then looks over at her. “I’ve got to go.”

“When do you want to talk about it?” Ophelia cries frustratedly. “You’re always fucking going.”

Jon glares at her.” Jesus Christ, Ophelia.” He starts rolling his suitcase down the hall and she follows, unable to resist.

“Should I even bother looking at houses still? Or should we just stay stagnant?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Ophelia. I don’t care right now.” The door slams behind him, but for once, she can’t bring herself to be mad about it, too furious about the fight they just had, shouting in circles about things they’ve already fought about.

Stewing in her anger isn’t going to do her any good, so she changes and heads to the gym, each pounding step on the treadmill relieving the thrumming under her skin. She’s feeling better, by the time she slows it down to her cool down- not quite calm, by any means, but enough that she feels she can run the errands she needs to for the day without snapping at anyone who doesn’t deserve her ire.

She’s in the grocery store when her phone starts ringing. “Hey.” She smiles when she sees it’s Morgan.

“Hey.” She can practically hear him smiling, even through the phone, her airpods still in her ears. “I’m home.”

She’s in the snack aisle at the food store, absolutely beaming at the simplest words, just because he’s been gone for a week. “You are?”

“For a few days now.” He confirms.

“You want to come for dinner tonight?” She studies the cart in front of her. “I’ll cook.”

“You’re cooking? Tell me when to be there.” Morgan already sounds excited. It’s not often she gets a chance to cook for him, but every time she does, he raves about it.

She laughs. “I’m at the store now; I’ll text you when I get home.”

He’s actually waiting for her in the parking garage when she pulls in and she laughs at him fondly as she parks her car. “Welcome back.”

“Hmm, good to be back.” The kiss he gives her in greeting is quick, too quick, but he makes up for it when he pushes her back against the counter as soon as they’re in her kitchen and the groceries are on the counter.

“Do you want risotto tonight or not?” Ophelia laughs against his lips, laughs again as she watches how torn Morgan looks. “We have time.”

He squeezes her hand. “Never enough.” And she kisses him again, because it’s true. These stolen moments, this borrowed time, none of it felt like enough. It wouldn’t ever be enough to show him all the love she has for him, to show him everything he does for her, all the pain he takes away and the joy he brings to her life.

“Could you go pick out a bottle of wine?” She says quietly, nodding toward the wine fridge, instead of saying the things they both know are true, but will only lead to her saying something stupid, like asking him to run away with her.

-----

The house comes in Pam’s daily email and Ophelia loves it from the first picture. She requests a showing for as early as possible and goes through her morning routine, trying not to get overly excited each time her phone buzzes with a new notification, until finally, Pam responds that she’ll meet her there at noon.

It’s only two hours, but it’s two hours that she can’t seem to fill, no matter what she does. Time feels like it’s stopped, until finally she gets in her car and drives over.

The stone exterior is even more beautiful in person than in the pictures. The kitchen is straight out of her dreams. The bedrooms are spacious, the family room is open, the basement is huge. She walks the entire house once, goes through again and again, smile growing wider each time.

Ophelia can picture it perfectly. The laughter filling all these nooks and crannies. A small blue-eyed boy always bouncing around, begging for anyone to play hockey with him. A girl, the shine of her dark hair catching all the natural light, eagerly trying to keep up with him. Morgan throwing his bag down the second he walks in the door and scooping them both into his arms to say hello, before coming to her and a baby, greeting them both just as tenderly.

It’s abrupt, the crash back to reality. This house, this beautiful, gorgeous, house can’t be hers. That life isn’t hers. It can’t be hers. It won’t be theirs.

Ophelia doesn’t feel her legs crumble out from under her, but she finds herself on the floor, hand brushing over the carpet. She doesn’t feel the tears start either, but it’s not long before the sobs are wracking her entire body and she’s unable to stop.

#morgan rielly fanfic #morgan rielly imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagines #toronto maple leafs imagine #my hockey fics

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