#I very nearly did just three gifs of them in the hospital | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whiskeynwriting · 5 months

Text

When Two Became Three

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

◆

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Brief mention of reader’s hair (Jack brushing it away from your face), pregnancy, birth, postpartum life, established relationship/marriage, daddy kink (A.L.W.A.Y.S.), praise kink, male masturbation, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex.

◆

A/N: Look, I want sweet times with the baby but I NEEDDD sexy time with Daddy 😫 we'll get sweet times with the baby, trust me ❤️

Not proof read because 🤷🏻‍♀️

◆

Daddycember ‘23 Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

It was warm, the summer heat a smoldering force even in the late afternoon. You were sure it would’ve cooled off as the night grew on, but you wouldn’t be outside for that. The overwhelming warmth finally ceased when Jack helped you into the hospital, quickly finding a wheelchair to set you in. The onset of sudden contractions was surprising, since it was still a week until your due date. Nonetheless, Jack called ahead, securing a room for you to occupy until two became three.

What calmed you most about this slightly early delivery, was that you and Jack had the baby’s room completely prepared. Everything was assembled, all of his clothes washed and put away, all of his toys organized, all of his bottles washed and sterilized. Your hospital bag had been ready, too, packed only the night before.

What scared you most about this early delivery, was how quick it had occurred. Your contractions were rapid, with barely a minute between them when you got to the hospital, and Jack drove you as soon as the pain had started. In fact, Jasper was so eager to make his appearance, that you didn’t even have time for an epidural. The overwhelming urge to push took over your entire body. It was involuntary, your muscles just knowing what to do. That was something you hadn’t expected.

Through it all, the only thing that truly mattered to you was your husband’s presence. He refused to leave, refused to not be physically connected to you. Holding your hand, kissing your head, rubbing your shoulders and the back of your neck. He was always there, the reassuring, stabilizing warmth of him.

“They said seven pounds, nine ounces.” Jack informed you, smiling down at his son. He was the first to hold him.

It was early, a little past three in the morning. Exhaustion took over your body, a sleepy smile growing on your face. Sweat beaded against your temples, a dull throb consumed your muscles. But he was here, he was here. He was finally here.

The small dusting of dark hair on his little head reminded you of his father, and Jack agreed. It was dark enough to resemble his dad’s hair, though his eyes were nothing like Jack’s. A beautiful blue, rich and deep. And briefly, in this moment, you worried for Jack’s mental state. You’d worried about it before, of course, when considering this scenario. He’d never be able to forget Anna and Rhett, and he never should.

And while the previous thought is true, nothing could take away the joy Jack had for Jasper, for seeing his perfect son, his first child. This moment couldn’t be tainted by past trauma and memories. And with everything in him, he wants to thank you, thank you for carrying his son, for keeping him safe and fed and warm. For being brave enough to do this, to sacrifice and give him the family he’s always wanted. He’s dreamt of this moment for so many years, and now, in his very arms, he’s experiencing it.

“Honey,” He said, voice soft and wavering slightly. “Thank you.”

Gently, your eyes closed, breathing out a small, grateful laugh. “Can I hold him?”

“O-Of course!” Jack stuttered out, shocked that he hadn’t already handed the baby to you. “‘Course, baby.”

And so, you did. The delicate weight of your son soon filled your arms, not even bathed yet. He was swaddled in white sheets, and regardless of the mess he was still covered in, you kissed him, his sweet face, the wet hair atop his head.

When they bathed him, you nearly fell asleep. Your instincts told you to stay awake, to look after your baby. But it was easy to rest when you had so much trust in Jack. And while you slept, Jack watched him, held him when he was dry and warm in fresh sheets. To your husband, there was nothing more precious than this moment. The two most important people in the entire world, sleeping beneath his watchful eye, both safe and happy. He felt complete, like this accomplishment was what he’d been waiting for his entire life.

And he still feels that way, with you snoozing beside him in bed while Jasper sleeps peacefully in his crib. When Jack can’t sleep, he watches the monitor, watches the way his son relaxes, the way his little features move as he dreams. At only four months old, he does surprisingly well in his crib at night. Though, that didn’t mean he slept through the entire night.

Jack hears you stir beside him as it happens, your son wailing, crying out for one of you. When you turn over, he lays a hand on your bare shoulder, kissing it. “Don’t worry, honey. I got this one.”

“He wants milk.” You tell him in your dreamy state, groaning slightly.

“Well, then I’ll bring him to you.” Jack insists, standing from the bed.

It takes only a few steps for him to enter the nursery, what with it being right across the hall. As soon as he’s in the hall, the wailing grows louder, and louder still when he’s inside the room.

“Sh…” And immediately, his son is looking for him, those once blue eyes now fading to a pretty gray as they find his dad. “I’m here, honey.”

Scooping him into his arms helps Jasper to still, to catch his little baby breath. But he doesn’t stop whining quietly, wanting his mother. And so, Jack returns with the still-small bundle, finding you already sitting upright in bed.

With an exhausted smile on your face, you reach out for him, immediately bringing him to your breast. It’s become routine, coddling him in the night like this. It seems to be the only thing that calms him down.

“We need to start sleep training him.”

Jack settles beside you on the bed, watching his son latch. He nods with a sigh. “I know.”

“But I don’t want to do the cry-it-out method. I could never ignore him like that.” Glancing down, you watch as he suckles, his eyes closing peacefully. “I’m so glad I have you with me.”

At times, Jack’s age made things difficult. And other times, his experience was a blessing. Currently, the only difficulty you’ve been facing is his increasingly painful back and knees. After all, the man’s getting old. Bending down to play with his son or pick him up isn’t always the easiest thing, but he still wouldn’t trade it for the world, and neither would you. There isn’t anyone else on this planet that you’d rather have as a life partner. Regardless of his stiff muscles or joints, Jack does his best, doing everything he can to make sure his responsibilities are met. The last thing he’d want is for you to feel unsupported or lonely.

“You’ll always have me.” He promises quietly, kissing your temple. “Always.”

The rest you find yourself needing far too often, is disturbed by the coolness of breast milk drying on your shirt. Though, you’re grateful for the time you’ve been given. After all, you wouldn’t have these opportunities if it weren’t for your husband. Even in the evenings, when he comes home from work tired and sore, he still gives time to you and your baby. Every single day.

Stumbling through the darkness, you eventually find the lightswitch, allowing you to toss your soiled shirt while grabbing for your pump. It’s been relatively easy, breastfeeding, which you consider a godsend. You were worried sick it wouldn’t come in on time, or that Jasper might not latch, or that you might not produce enough for him. But the steady flow pouring into the plastic containers has put you at incredible ease.

Although you can barely think, you make your way out into the hall, searching for your husband and baby. The instincts you find yourself having are humorous, in a way. You never thought you’d be so concerned for another person’s safety, let alone two people. But whenever you find them, they’re alright, thriving, even. When they’re together, they’re happy, so happy and at peace. Just like they are now, snuggled up on the couch.

Walking closer, you grin, eyeing Jack from around the corner. It’s dark in the living room, the few candles and city lights barely illuminating the space. And nestled in the middle of the couch, are your boys, curled up together. Jack’s cradling Jasper while he sleeps in sturdy arms, one hand brushing over his small head. And he simply stares, eyes full of admiration and awe, so much love and adoration.

“Baby?”

His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, a small, sleepy smile on his lips. “Hey, darlin’.”

“How is he?” Now, you step into the room, sitting gently beside Jack. Peering over into his lap, a bright smile plumps between your cheeks.

“Perfect.” Jack whispers, gazing down at the small bundle. “He’s perfect. He even smiles in his sleep.”

Laughing gently, you nod. “I know.”

It’s Wednesday evening, a randomly thankful night, a night where Jack is almost always home. And on nights like this, he opted to watch the baby, letting you sleep and eventually cook. “Should I make dinner?”

“That sounds great, babycakes.” Simply, he looks up at you, that same expression of tired admiration written all over his face. It makes you grin, your heart feeling incredibly full as you lean in. And when you place one single kiss on his arching nose, he hums, eyes closing with contentment.

Motherhood has brought out a truly caring nature within you. It was always there, and always showed, but it’s been amplified by this new, tiny presence. You’re cooking more, especially with the newest change in the nightly routine. You’ve split the night into two shifts. With you staying home on maternity leave, Jack takes first shift, letting you sleep until around midnight or one o’clock. While you sleep, he cares for the baby, making sure the hours you get are good and solid. And when midnight comes around, you wake, taking on the responsibilities for the rest of the night while Jack rests. He has work, after all, and needs to keep himself sharp.

Jack has grown quite fond of your cooking, your nesting. It started early on in your pregnancy, and has only continued since Jasper’s birth. With more sleep, came more energy, happy to keep a clean home and meals on the table for your husband. It felt nice, falling into these traditional roles. It didn’t work for everyone, but it worked perfectly for you and Jack.

“What do we have today?” He asks in that sultry tone, wrapping both arms around your midsection. Pressing himself to your back, he gives your neck a sweet kiss, smiling.

“Stuffed peppers, asparagus, and steak.” You reply simply, surprising him with his favorite meal. Something he hasn’t eaten since the baby arrived. “Bought a new bottle for you, too.”

“A new bottle?” Jack replies, chest bouncing with a chuckle. “You spoil me, baby.”

“Yeah, well…” Turning around, you find yourself between the cage of his arms, face right in front of yours. “I try.”

And then you’re tilting your head up, lips meeting his. It’s soft and sweet, one turning into multiple. The timid appearance of his tongue makes your insides spark, your breath hitching quietly. And he notices.

“You like spoilin’ me?” Jack asks, hands lowering to your hips, sliding around to grab at your ass. Through the silk material of your robe, he can feel you, feel how soft and plush you are beneath his hands. He loved when you did this, wearing your robe and nothing else at the end of the night. You didn’t need a bra, not with you constantly breastfeeding.

But then the baby cries, a sudden, shrill noise, that drags your husband away. A small sigh leaves his mouth, giving your nose a peck before walking off to tend dutifully to his baby. Of course, you’d never ignore your son, but sometimes… you miss the days where it was only you and your husband. Your baby is a lovely thing and you can’t imagine life without him now. But that doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to miss your old life, too. Things are just… different now, and it’s taking some getting used to.

Before the baby, Jack would’ve done so much more than just grab at your ass. He’d lean down to suck on your neck, pull apart your robe to grope your chest. Maybe even get on his knees and open your legs, stuff his face between your thighs until the food is burnt and your hips are shaking. He loves when you take care of him, and he loves taking care of you. But he hasn’t taken care of you like that since Jasper was born. He hasn’t put his mouth anywhere near your legs, but not because he doesn’t want to. The two of you have just been so goddamn busy, it’s hard to make time for sex when your schedule is full and you’re constantly exhausted.

“Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack calls back from the living room. “Just hungry, needed a bottle.” And when he’s well fed and rested, he sleeps again, pretty much all the little nugget does. But when he’s awake, all he does is smile. He’s the happiest infant you’ve ever met; his laugh makes the world seem kind.

While watching from the kitchen, you witness Jack feed your son, stroking his head gently with his free hand. Being a dad is what Jack was meant for, it comes so naturally to him. And still… you can’t help but miss when he was yours.

If only you knew how he was feeling. Far too desperately, he yearned for your physical connection. He fantasized about it, dreamed about it. Your husband knew things would change after the baby, but wanting you is in his nature, it’s ingrained in his goddamn bones. But at the same time, Jack didn’t want to pressure you into anything. He figured when you were ready, you’d come to him. And he’s continued to wait for that day; wait, and wait, and wait. Any time spent alone was spent touching himself, satisfying the carnal arousal crawling through his body. In the shower, in bed when you stayed up too late with the baby, hell, even in his office. Fuck, he remembers when he used to bend you over his desk, use you to satisfy himself. Are those days completely gone?

Unfortunately, neither of you are sure. And with that somber news, and the ending of your quiet dinner, Jack heads off to bed. It’s accompanied by a sweet kiss and tender hug, soft whispers of love filling your ears. And when he’s finally gone, you can’t help but sigh. Not out of relief, but of guilt. Jack’s kisses are lovely but you want so much more than that.

And while you tend to your tiny son, you can’t stop yourself from thinking about that, about how neglected and forgotten Jack must feel. It brings you to tears, honestly. Sure your world is different now, much different, but that doesn’t mean the two of you have to change. That doesn't mean the passion in your relationship has to die. And at that realization, something stirs inside you, something full of determination and ambition. Jasper lays in your lap with a belly full of milk, lids closed as he rests. And once he’s safely in his bassinet, you make your way toward Jack.

Strutting down the hall, you find your nerves crawling with eager excitement, wanting to express these feelings to him. But the small sound of… something, stops you. A brief noise, muffled, but you know that noise. And immediately, your lips are quirking up, jaw beginning to drop. There’s no way, there’s no way you happened to catch him in the act. But with your interest piqued, you inch toward the bedroom door, listening closely.

Oh, he’s moaning, your husband is moaning. He’s touching himself, what else would he be doing? And then you’re wondering, why didn’t he say anything? Why didn’t he ask me? Although, you can understand why. He probably assumed you’d be too exhausted to do anything, likely having to resort to this for months now. And the realization tugs at your heart. He’s been neglected, you see that now.

Though, through all the guilt-ridden thoughts in your head, one thing shines through - I want to see him. Whatever his reaction is, you want to see this. You can’t even remember the last time you did anything sexual with Jack and to say that was a sin would be an understatement.

Quietly, you twist the knob, pushing forward as slowly as you can. Inch by inch, the noises get louder, deep and sultry moans sighing from your lover’s mouth. And as you continue forward, you’re wondering what exactly you’ll find, wondering what his reaction will be, and all too quickly… you’re met with it.

Widening eyes fall on the sight of Jack, shirtless and laying on the end of the bed, both feet flat on the ground. He’s got the fly on his jeans open, pants down just enough to have pulled himself entirely out. One hand curls around his shaft, thumb stroking the tip with diligent swirls. The other cups his scrotum, rolling his fingers and fondling the sensitive skin. His head is tossed back, mouth agape with his eyes shut. The veins in his forearms flex against taught muscles, thick fingers working himself closer to the edge.

An enormous huff releases from his chest then, eyes popping open to look directly at you. At first, you’d expected him to be shocked, maybe even embarrassed - he’s anything but.

The first word out of his mouth is an incredibly breathy, “Baby.”

Lips parting in shock, you take in the look on that handsome face. “Baby?”

“Honey,” He fucking whines, “Look at me. Look what you do to me.”

“Baby…” Walking over to the bed, you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand. The other cups his chin, an action that forces a high sigh out of him. All at once, you feel overcome with care; you want to take care of him, hold him, love him.

“I need you, babycakes. Daddy fucking needs you; haven’t had you in fuckin’ months.” He’s still touching himself just as eagerly, starting to fully stroke his length. “I know we have Jasper, sweetheart, I know, but… I just can’t stand it anymore.”

The entirety of the situation is rushing blood throughout your body, sending arousal through your veins. Jack’s sheer desperation is sending you over the edge, your breaths picking up with every passing second. You’re shocked he’s acting this way, and you’re drinking in every second of it.

“Baby, please. Please tell me.” But this… this confuses you. Tilting your head at him, you begin to question, “What?”

“Tell me if you need me.” He begs, he’s begging for you. “Do you need me as much as I need you, honey? Is it just me?”

“No, daddy.” Your head shakes, eyes staring into his own. “No, I need you. I need you…” Naturally, you lean in, lips slotting over his with the eager need to reassure him.

With great relief he leans into your kiss, both hands continuing to touch the places he needs to satisfy most. Instantly, he’s moaning, mouth opening so he can groan into your throat. And you take advantage of this, sliding your tongue into his mouth and taking control. He tastes like whiskey, like him, the liquor he’d just downed at dinner. Oftentimes, that taste would intermingle with the smoke of his cigar, a sensation you dearly miss; the taste and scent of Jack, of an older man.

“I need my little girl again.” He’s whispering, one hand reaching up to hold the back of your head. Pressing you further against his mouth, he hums, brushing back some of your hair. “Can I lick you, sugar? Please?” Jack’s voice is quiet, pleading with you between kisses.

“Now?”

“Now.” Comes his instant reply. “Right now. Fuck, haven’t tasted you since the baby came.”

“Daddy,” You’re saying it with such fondness; you haven’t been able to call him that in so long, not like this.

“Sit on me,” Jack insists. “Come sit on my face, you perfect fuckin’ angel.”

Both hands are then moving to your robe, undoing the tie in the front of pushing it from your shoulders. Your grin is immediate and bright, shrugging it onto the ground. And just like that, you’re naked, in all your postpartum glory. But Jack doesn’t mind, if anything, he’s only grown more attracted to you. Your growing body, full breasts and plush thighs, your soft tummy and grabable backside.

“C’mon,” Your lover mutters, urging you up by your hips. “C’mon, baby.”

“I, I need to shower, baby.” Part of you worries - you’re insecure. You showered last night but haven’t been able to today, not with the baby.

“You think I give a fuck about that?” Suddenly, that rough, demanding voice is back. His face turns stern, hand reaching up for your throat out of mere reflex. “Get up and here, and put your pussy on daddy’s face.”

That authoritative tone has you following his every command, and he knows it. You’re practically brainless when he’s like this, especially when you haven’t experienced it in so long. Without another thought, you’re crawling over him, feeling those broad hands roam your bare body.

“That’s it…”

He doesn’t even let you hover, doesn't allow you to become truly comfortable before he’s dragging you down by his grip on your hips. Instantly, his mouth is devouring you, opening wide and slurping on the slick leaking down to your thighs. Falling forward, you catch yourself on both hands, staring down at Jack. Puffing out frantic breaths, your jaw drops, brows furrowing when you feel that talented mouth suction to your clit.

“J-Jack, baby.” Gulping, you see those dark brown eyes snap open, one hand lifting to spank your backside. “Daddy.”

With a satisfied hum, his lids flutter shut, broad palm rubbing the space he just stung. Jesus, does he love this, he fucking missed this. Jack used to be such a whore for you sitting on his face, and he hasn’t experienced it in nearly an entire year.

“So fucking wet for me, yeah baby?”

“Yeah,” Nodding, you whine out from above, feeling his tongue fuck itself into your hole. “Yeah…”

“Pretty girl, perfect little thing.” He’s grabbing onto you in thick handfuls, kneading your ass and thighs, rubbing his face back and forth like some satisfied animal. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

This praise feels so foreign, yet… it’s familiar, so overtly familiar you tear up from the memory of how saturated you used to be in it. Your head tosses back, throat gasping dryly as he tongues your clit, holding you down onto his mouth. You can feel his jaw moving, opening and closing as he slurps against your lips, drinking you in.

“You like when I touch you, honey? Like how I make you feel?”

“I’ve missed it.” Fisting his dark brown hair, you gasp out a flurry of high pants, whispering shakily to him, “I’m so close.”

It’s been minutes, a handful of seconds, and he already has you. That handsome face between your thighs, those broad palms grabbing at your hips. And without even realizing it, you’re rocking against him, sliding your slick lips over his mouth and face, and he’s reveling in it.

“Give it to me.” Is all he manages out, voice gravelly and wet before you’re cumming in his mouth.

Just like before, like he used to before your baby, he laps at you, sucking every ounce of it into his mouth. His moans are soft, vibrating up through your body. And while you squirm your way through euphoria, he holds you steady, hands gripping either side of your hips.

“Quiet, honey.” Jack then grunts, sighing dramatically before clearing his throat. He then gives your clit a broad, slow lick, asking you, “Be quiet for me. Don’t wake the baby.”

“Okay,” Both eyes are closed, head resting low with your chin on your chest. The lungs beneath your ribs are dying for breath, pretty lips parted as you roll your wet heat over his lips and chin. “Daddy…”

“Fuck me,” Turning his head, he mouths at your thighs, licking and sucking and biting. His face is dripping with you, lips and mustache glistening. “Babycakes, please.”

Heavy lids rise, glancing down at your lover. And the sight you’re met with is his desperate expression, brows folded up in the center, tongue poking out to lick both lips.

“Will you touch me, honey? Suck on me?”

A smile breaks out across your face, head tilting back with a small, breathy laugh. Both of your hands then slide over his head, fingers running through that dark brown hair.

“Please, baby.” He begs sweetly, kissing your thigh. “Before you have to go back out there. I need you, need you so bad, I - ”

Covering his mouth with the palm of your hand, you meet his eyes once again. “You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.”

His mention of the baby snaps you out of that blissful haze, crawling down his body like your life depends on it. Jack sighs when you settle on your knees, spreading his legs a little wider for you. And the sight of him makes you hungry, veins throbbing, shaft slick from the steady faucet from his tip. A deep red colors the head of his cock, drooling for any sense of touch, any sense of attention.

Lips parting, you drag your flattened tongue along the underside of his cock, resting back against his toned stomach. He tries his best to watch you, he really does, but when you do that, his head immediately drops back. Something truly possesses you then, wanting to show your appreciation for him, for the man that keeps you happy and protected, for the man that cares so wonderfully for your small family.

“Jesus Christ…” One hand smoothes over the back of your head, body shivering from the slow, worshiping suck you give to the tip of his cock. Your tongue pets at the slit, mouth watering from the taste you’ve been deprived of. “Just like that, sugar.”

But while you’re focusing on taking him into your mouth and very quickly down your throat, Jack is focused on you. He’s so enamored with you, with how perfect you are for him. Always so willing and eager; he swears he never knew what good sex was until he met you. He can remember the first time you blew him, back when he’d invited you to his beach house so many years ago. At that point in time, he thought life couldn’t get any better. But then he put a ring on your finger, and then he put a baby inside you, and he knows there’s only more to come. With you at his side, he knows he’ll thrive.

Unexpectedly, Jack blurts out, “Baby wait, wait.”

Removing yourself gives you time to catch your breath, staring up at him with confusion. But then he’s grabbing your arms and pulling you up to him again.

“Come up here,” Your husband requests, tone low and seductive. “Come up here…”

Wanting to make him happy, and do as much as you can during this precious time, you comply. Your knees rest on either side of his pelvis as you crawl over him once again, hands cupping both cheeks as you bring yourself in. And with an emphatic huff, Jack meets your lips.

“You don’t like my mouth anymore, daddy?” You’re only teasing, smirking against his lips.

Grabbing the back of your head, Jack bites at your bottom lip. “I’m gonna need you to shut your mouth.” His other hand grabs his shaft, angling it up between your legs. “I need to be inside you, so fucking bad.”

Without care, he thrusts upward while pulling you down, sliding the thick curve of his head through your lips. The sensation shocks you briefly, jaw dropping, but eyes never leaving his.

“Just like that, just like that, honey. Sit on me. You don’t have to do anything, baby doll, just lay here. Lay on me and let me fuck you.”

Words escape your mind, your response consisting of a trusting nod. It’s the slide of his cock that truly knocks the breath from your chest, thick and heavy against your most sensitive skin. Every inch forces you to feel the stretch, the veins rubbing against your walls, the head throbbing timidly inside your heat.

“Oh my fucking god,” Head dropping back, Jack groans, almost too loud. “I need this, I’ve needed this so bad.”

Falling onto his chest, your hands reach for him, face burying into the curve of his neck. “I know, daddy.”

Fully inside, he pauses, reveling in the sensation. It’s like coming home, feeling warm and snug and welcome. Large hands then roam your thighs, your ass and sides, rising to your chest. One grabs at your swollen tit, thumb rubbing over the nipple while his free hand lands on your hip. Keeping you still, Jack begins rocking his pelvis up, slow and steady, feeling you pepper his throat in sweet kisses.

“Beautiful fuckin’ thing,” He drawls, southern tone thick and sleepy. Turning his head, he mumbles into your hair, “Most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Daddy,” A flurry of emotions fill your body, hands holding onto his shoulder and neck while he pumps himself into you. “Daddy, I’m so sorry. I haven’t, haven’t given this to you.” You’re crying softly against him, feeling him dive inside with every thrust.

“Sh… no, no, no.” Jack says to you, petting the back of your head. “No, baby. Don’t worry about that. I have you now.”

“Always,” Nodding, you gasp, feeling his movements become more erratic. “You always have me.”

“No matter what,” He agrees, breaths heavy and humid against the side of your face. “Always, babycakes. Daddy’s here, I’m always here.” Jack grunts then, back arching slightly. “C-Christ, fuck, I can’t do this, baby, not much longer.”

“I don’t care, I promise.” Bouncing down against his thrusts, you do your best to keep it soft and quiet, but it’s difficult when you’re connecting with your husband like this. “I want it, baby.”

“Oh, sugar, I love you.” It’s the last thing he says before forcing out a rugged moan, doing his best to contain it. “I fucking love you.”

Sitting down completely, you rock gently over him, feeling his warmth beginning to fill you. At first, you worry about bruises, feeling how harshly he grabs onto you. Fingers press into your hips and thighs, chest puffing out a handful of forceful breaths. And still, you’re kissing on his neck, licking the salty skin with sweet pets.

“I love you.”

Neither of you thought this is how it would happen, your first physical connection after the baby. Though, it fits. Your entire relationship has been full of spur-of-the moment, passionate sex. It makes sense that this is how you’d come back to each other.

Jack’s head turns, finding your cheek and nuzzling into it until you lift your head enough for your lips to connect. It’s a slow, loving kiss, melting into the other, bodies relaxing together.

“Honey, I missed you.”

“I’ll do better, daddy.”

“We,” He corrects, “It’s the two of us, babycakes. We’ll always make it work, right? Can you promise me that?”

“I promise, of course I promise.”

A long, relaxed sigh then floats into the air, leaving both your mouths. “My girl,” Jack says, rubbing your back. “My perfect girl.”

#daddy I MISSED YOU #daddycember #daddycember '23 #daddycember 2023 #daddy whiskey #agent whiskey #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader

254 notes · View notes

venus-haze · 11 months

Text

I’ll Keep a Light in My Window (Starlight x Reader)

Summary: After her Believe Expo speech, it feels like everyone’s eyes are on Annie. Among the messages flooding her Instagram DMs is an encouraging one from you, an old friend from her Capes for Christ days. The two of you reconnect, and Annie finds more than friendship with you this time around.

Note: Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is my first Starlight fic! I hope I did her justice since this is mostly from her perspective. Inspired by the song from The Get Down because it’s so Annie. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: This is pretty much fluff with some angst, related to canon events and mentions of homophobia in the context of American Christianity. Obviously playing with the plot of S1 for this fic. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Despite the crowd’s chaos in response to her speech, Annie felt her smile falter when she got backstage and was met with varying degrees of rage and disgust. Her own mother looked like she’d spent the past five minutes sucking on sour candy.

‘Hello!’ Annie wanted to shout. ‘Did you see what I did out there? Aren’t you gonna congratulate me?’

Hughie had disappeared after meeting Ezekiel. She tried to pretend that him not even saying goodbye didn’t bother her. If she could get up on stage and bare her soul to thousands of people in person and millions at home, at the very least she could admit to herself that she was hurt.

The drive back to the tower was tense. Everyone seemed to avoid making eye contact with her. As if she’d done something wrong. The longer she sat with what she said and did, the more she was convinced she made the right choice. Between what The Deep had done to her and how she was treated after saving a girl from suffering the same fate, they were just mad she called them on her complacency.

As soon as she made it back to her suite, she pulled out her phone to find her Instagram had blown up even more than when she first joined The Seven. Her phone nearly crashed from the amount of notifications she had. Thousands of comments and messages, either rants or support. She scrolled through her clogged DMs, her stomach churning at the glimpses of abuse that piled on from irate strangers. One DM caught her attention, addressing her by her real name rather than Starlight.

Hesitantly, she tapped the message to see the full contents.

‘Holy shit Annie!! You’re so badass🤩 Our Capes for Christ counselors must be shitting themselves right now lmao way to go!’

There were a lot of people from her Capes for Christ days, a constant rotation of hopeful young superheroes ready to use their powers for the glory of the Lord. Looking back, it was just a self-righteous vanity project for their parents and whatever religious sycophants hovered around. She tapped your photo, bringing her to your profile. Your brief bio gave your first name and that you were living in the city, but your supe name was nowhere to be found.

She tapped your most recent photo. In a brightly lit hospital hallway, you posed in black scrubs with a handful of balloons. You’d posted it just a week earlier, the caption celebrating working as a nurse for three years. Most of the comments were congratulating you, but one comment finally jogged her memory.

‘might be thinking of someone else but were you red heart?’ someone commented.

You replied with, ‘Yeah I was a million years ago! Lamest name ever😂😂’

Right. Red Heart. Healing powers. Red Cross spokesgirl. White top with a red skirt and sparkly red shoes that reminded her of the Wizard of Oz. You were on the Capes for Christ circuit with her. At one point she considered you a close friend, close enough to invite you to the roller skating party she begged her mom for when she was ten, only allowed to invite three girls because that’s all they could afford. Memories of skating to Britney Spears songs and balancing a paper plate with room temperature pizza on her lap came back to her. You’d bought her one of the special edition birthday Barbies. Her mom never let her take it out of the box, claiming it’d be worth a lot of money some day. It was probably still collecting dust in their attic.

She could remember you going off to college after high school, dropping your superhero identity not long after. With healing powers, it made sense you’d go into nursing. Her mom had expressed a judgemental disbelief at your decision. Annie wished she at least had a choice like you.

She scrolled through more of your photos. You seemed to be doing well since you got out. Got out. Like it was a cult. Maybe in a way, it was.

Annie hit the follow button on your profile and messaged you back.

‘Thanks Y/N! I made a lot of people mad, but I’m glad I did it 😊’ she hesitated a moment before typing, ‘We should catch up sometime! You're still in New York right? I’m pretty new to the city.’

Before she could get too in her own head about whether asking you to hang out was weird when the two of you hadn’t spoken in years, you responded with the names of a few coffee shops on the Upper East Side and that you were off work the following day.

Her mood had tanked before meeting up with you, getting chewed out by Stilwell and feeling some guilt for Ashley losing her job. She had to remind herself it wasn’t her fault. If they hadn’t enabled a sex pest for years, she wouldn’t have had to make her speech.

Following the directions on her phone and getting a bit turned around in the subway, she walked up to the coffee shop a few minutes after eleven, when the two of you had agreed to meet. She rushed inside when she noticed you were already sitting at a table with your drink.

Annie sat down across from you with her coffee, playing with the cup sleeve. “I’m so glad you had time to hang out. I still don’t really know anyone here, and it’s nice to see a familiar face.”

“Yeah! I'm not really in touch with a lot of people from back then, but I can totally introduce you to my friends. It’s an adjustment, but the city has a lot to offer if you know where to look.”

“Way more to do than Des Moines at least.”

“I can’t believe I nearly forgot,” you said, lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “congrats on getting into The Seven! Out of everyone in our weird ass group growing up, I always had a feeling it was gonna be you.”

“Thanks.” She gave you a strained smile. “It’s not exactly what I expected, but I’m making the best of it.”

“Sometimes that’s the most you can do,” you said.

“How about you? What part of the hospital do you work in?”

“With my powers, they have me all over the place, but it’s good. I can see I’m really making a difference.”

“That’s what I want. Sometimes I feel like they just parade me around to look nice, but they won’t let me do anything,” she said. “Like that stupid new costume. It’s like they make me wear it just to humiliate me for helping that girl because I didn’t do it their way. I feel like a joke.”

“Not after the Believe Expo. Anyone would be an idiot not to take you seriously now,” you said. “I mean, you said what so many people were thinking but were too afraid to say. It’s bullshit they’re treating you like this.”

“No, it’s—I’ll deal. We’re supposed to be catching up, and I’m like dumping all my problems on you. How have you been? Are you seeing anyone?” she asked.

She wasn’t sure how she’d answer the question if you’d been the one to ask. Hughie could be so hot and cold, like he was hiding something.

You were silent for a few moments before answering. “Not really. My girlfriend and I broke up a few weeks ago.”

“That’s great! I mean—not great that you broke up, I’m so sorry,” Annie said frantically. “Just you being—dating women. I’m happy for you.”

“That means a lot, Annie. I kind of parted ways with Vought because of it. I mean, they have this progressive face, but then they let Ezekiel spout his bullshit and put their name on that too?” you ranted. “That’s just me. It’s pretty much impossible to have a career as a supe without Vought, so I don’t judge.”

“Do you think I’m crazy for trying to change things from the inside?”

“It can’t hurt to try. Then at least you know you did what you could.”

She smiled. At least she could vent to someone who understood and actually gave a damn. Hughie was nice, but he didn’t quite get it. There was always some kind of disconnect. Maeve wasn’t nearly the mentor she was hoping for. She got it a little better now. Maeve had been in The Seven for years, Annie could only imagine how much it’d wear her down.

On her way back from getting coffee, Annie stopped in front of a bookstore with a huge Vought display in the window. Her comics were front and center, a cardboard cut-out of her next to one of Homelander. The Deep’s comics were barely visible with clearance stickers slapped on the covers. Serves him right. She couldn’t believe he’d been her favorite at one point.

Sleepovers with the other Capes for Christ girls almost always led to a “who’s your favorite member of The Seven” discussion. The answers were always a lot of Homelander, some Lamplighter or Marathon Man, but you always answered Queen Maeve. Back then, she thought it was because you admired her strength, her trailblazing as the first woman in The Seven. Maybe it wasn’t that simple.

“That’s her! I swear to god it is!” Annie overheard someone whisper-yell.

“Who?”

“Starlight, over there!”

Annie kept her head down, speed-walking up the street. She ducked into the nearest subway, getting on the first train that stopped even though it was going further uptown. Pulling her hoodie up to obscure her face, she sighed. She had everything she ever dreamed of, but it seemed more and more like it was turning into a nightmare.

The following weeks were busy between her obligations with The Seven and helping Hughie with whatever cryptic stuff he was up to. She still found time to see you. Hanging out with you was the only thing that made her feel normal anymore. You were so confident in who you were, she felt comfortable finding out who she was outside of Starlight. With you, she could just be Annie.

All of a sudden her association with Hughie had Homelander nearly turning on her. Maeve took up for her in nothing less than a Hail Mary moment. Then, to make matters worse, her entire world came crashing down when she agreed to meet up with Hughie despite his fugitive status. She wasn’t born with her powers, no supe was. Instead her mom signed her life away to Vought and allowed them to basically experiment on her. The cherry on top of the melting ice cream sundae that’d become her life was definitely getting shot immediately after finding out the news.

When she came to in the hospital, she saw you in your scrubs, slouched in the chair next to her bed. She reached out, taking your hand in hers.

“Y/N?” she croaked out.

“Annie!” you exclaimed, jumping up from the chair. “Holy shit, how are you feeling? I did what I could when you got here. You heal fast, so you should be—“

“It’s all a lie! Our whole lives, Y/N! They fucking lied about everything!” she raged, her vision blurred by tears. “At least you got out. I feel so stupid.”

“Hey, don’t call my best friend stupid.”

She laughed weakly, sniffling a bit. “Thanks Y/N, for everything. All this time I was thinking I was doing what I wanted, but it was what everyone else wanted for me. It always has been.”

“Then start living for you, whatever that looks like. It’s never too late,” you said.

Her hand still intertwined with yours, she pulled you closer to her, your faces inches apart. Taking in your features, she admired how pretty you were. She’d always thought so, but didn’t know how to place it before. Since you’d reconnected, however, it was different. Butterflies in her stomach when you'd smile at her. Texts from you brightening her day. Hanging out with you being the highlight of her week. She didn’t have to try when it came to you.

“I think I’ll start now,” she whispered.

In a moment of nerve-wracking bravery, Annie pressed her lips to yours. Relief swept over her when you kissed her back, smiling against her lips. Whatever happened next, she knew she could get through it with you by her side.

#annie january x reader #starlight x reader #the boys x reader #annie january #starlight #the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon

196 notes · View notes

luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 year

Text

Restless Man (Part 3)

Summary: Things aren’t good when Frisch shows up at the station with some men but the reader isn’t going anywhere with him...

Pairing: Beau Arlen x reader

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 1,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, bodily injury, kidnapping, threats, mentioned minor past minor character deaths

A/N: Spoilers for Big Sky season 3! This will be the final part of this impromptu little series. Enjoy!

_______

To say things had gone to shit would be an understatement. It turned out a police station really wasn’t all that safe when there were no cops in it. Nearly every officer was at the craftsman on the way far edge of town. Frisch had definitely been staying there and planning to have taken you there.

Unfortunately, with everyone gone, that left the station vulnerable which was exactly what he’d been planning on.

You, Beau and Pop were currently hunkered down in Beau’s office, you and Pop on either side of the door while Beau was passed out on the couch. He was out cold and was not waking up anytime soon. The doctor had prescribed a mild sedative to help him sleep and, well, his timing couldn’t have been worse.

“Pop,” you whispered as you heard Frisch’s hired goons search through the station. “Can you carry Beau?”

He stared at you disapprovingly, furrowing his brow. “Y/N, you can’t go out there.”

“He wants me. You and Beau? He’ll have no problem killing the two of you. If I go out there, can you get him out through the window?”

“Yes but giving yourself up-”

“I said I’m going out there. I never said I’m going anywhere with him.” You winked and cracked open the door. If Pop could have stopped you before you stood, you knew he would have. Quickly you reached over to Beau’s bookcase, grabbing an item off the shelf.

This needed to end before they got to Beau and Pop or the people in the back of the station.

You ducked outside with your weapon, three men before you. Two of them you didn’t recognize but smack dab in the middle of the room was Frisch. For some reason, he didn’t seem as frightening as he once did. Maybe it was fifteen years of aging or the training you had but all you saw was the man who tried to hurt someone you cared about. Again.

“Y/N-” You didn’t let him finish before you took a shot at the two men closest to you. The man on the right went down, Frisch diving behind a desk and just barely avoiding you. “You know, I was expecting you’d be angry. But you’re making this more complicated than it has to be.”

You held up the canister and pulled out the pin with your teeth before tossing it across the room. All three men groaned when the flashbang went off. From a far hall, one of the officer’s in the back ran out, helping you get a gun on Frisch and the other man. You kicked away their weapons, cocking your own when Frisch tried to move towards you.

“Why don’t you just do it,” he growled. “Get it over with.”

“You’re not worth the paperwork,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “You got no idea what kind of shit storm you made for-”

“Do it!” he shouted, reminding you for a moment of the man from your home all those years ago. You only cocked your head though and smiled.

“Nah. I want you to live, Henry. I want you to live for a very long time, knowing I love someone very deeply and that that person isn’t you.” Pop came out of the office, helping to secure Frisch before you went over to the man you shot, currently clutching his leg.

He glared at you while trying to put pressure on his thigh, his resolve breaking when you knelt down beside him. “You know he’s a sack of shit, right?”

“I didn’t know you guys were cops when I took this job, I swear,” he said. You nodded, pretending to mull it over. “I’m so screwed.”

“Probably. You talk, I’m sure some kind of deal can be made, though. Think it over while you’re in the hospital. That sicko’s going away for life. I’d advise not following in his footsteps.”

“You,” grumbled Beau. You stood, finding him partially sedated, leaning against the doorframe of his office. He huffed, slipping and sliding down to the ground, clutching his ankle in pain.

“Better make that ambulance for two.”

“You’re so stupid,” muttered Beau for the thousandth time that evening. You just hummed, flipping through an old magazine in his hospital room. “This is all your fault!”

“I told you to use your crutches,” you sang song. He grabbed your wrist from the bed beside you, green eyes full of fury. “You’re just mad because I used your lucky flashbang.”

“I’m mad for a whole lot, missy,” he growled. You raised your eyebrows, smirking back at him. “Stop making that face.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you teased, still smirking as his nostrils flared. “I knew what I was doing. Risky? Yes, but so was letting three armed men run rampant in the station with people locked up in cells and you out cold. I made a call, the same one you would have made in my position.”

He grumbled and got in your face, hot breath fanning over you. “Never do that again. Swear.”

“I pinky promise.” Beau grumbled, kissing you roughly as he kept you close. He sighed when he inched back, closing his eyes. “I’m okay. Question is are you?”

“I’m better now that he’s locked up and not getting out,” he said as the doctor walked in wearing a frown not too dissimilar to the one Beau had been sporting. “What’s the verdict?”

“You fucked up your ankle, Beau, that’s the verdict.” You crossed your arms, Beau trying to brush it off.

“It can’t be that bad-”

“You need surgery. Then I’m shoving you in a cast until I know your ankle is healed. I told you not to walk on it and it looks like you’ve done nothing but ignore that direction since you’ve left. Your body went through a major trauma. You’re lucky you’re young and healthy and you should have no problem making a full recovery.” The doctor turned to you and sighed. “He won’t be able to stay by himself that first week. You said his home isn’t suitable for crutches?”

You glanced at Beau, seeing his puppy dog eyes. “Alright, Arlen. You can stay with me until you’re better. Don’t think this means we’ve moved in together or anything though. We’re still new to this.”

“Your surgery is planned for the morning. Do me a favor and don’t leave the fucking bed for the rest of today,” he said, his beeper going off. “I’ll be back soon to explain the surgery in more detail. And Arlen? Next time you damn well listen to me.”

Beau gave a mini salute, chuckling after the doctor was gone. “Surprised he wasn’t more pissed at me.”

“I’m guessing you know him based on that wildly unprofessional interaction.”

“Oh we go way back,” said Beau, scooting over on the bed. “Sit with me.”

You crammed yourself in, Beau sliding his arm over your shoulders. “So you’re all better cause Frisch is locked up, just like that.”

He shrugged, waggling his hand. “Maybe not all better. I promise when I am stuck at home on my ass or on desk duty because of this fucking ankle, I will make time and talk to someone too.”

“Good. I don’t want you to try and do it on your own like after what happened with your old partner. It’s not good for you,” you said, massaging his scalp, Beau’s eyes fluttering closed. “I’m going to stay tonight.”

“You don’t have to. I’m sure the station is going nuts.”

“They can survive. We need a moment,” you said, Beau absently curling into your touch. “So. I know last night’s dinner wasn’t amazing but if you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be?”

“Man, I could go for a greasy burger and fries. And a strawberry milkshake. And some of your mashed potatoes. Those were, despite what you may think, the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.”

“You were literally starving for a week.”

“But the were so good,” he laughed. “Would you mind running home and getting me some?”

“For you, bud? Sure,” you said, kissing his temple. “I’ll get your other food and bring you some clothes since I’m sure you’ll be here a few days. Apparently you’re a troublemaker who doesn’t listen.”

“I wonder who I got that from,” he teased, resting his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes.

“Take a nap while I’m gone,” you whispered, sliding out from beside him, tugging his blanket up over his waist. “We’ll call Emily when I get back, okay?”

“Oh crap,” he said, running his hand over his mouth. “Is she okay? I haven’t talked to her-”

“I know. I called her yesterday after we found you, let her know you’re safe. As far as she’s concerned, you’ve been resting today and will call her tonight.”

“Thank you,” he said with a soft and sleepy smile. “You know your relationship with her will change when she finds out.”

“She has a mother Beau. I will be what she needs me to be. She’s old enough to make that decision for herself,” you said. He nodded, leaning back in bed.

“I love that you care about her,” he said, almost as if to himself. You gave him a quick kiss, Beau smiling when you crossed the room for the door. “Hey, Y/L/N. Soon as I’m back on my feet, I’m taking you a proper date like a gentleman.”

“I’d like that,” you said, lingering by the door. “Beau?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really glad you’re home again.”

“Me too, baby.” You shook your head, Beau laughing. “What I’d say?”

“New pet name, I don’t do baby.”

“Missy?”

“I’m drinking your milkshake for that,” you said, walking out the door, gratefully to the sound of his laughter.

_______

#beau arlen x reader #beau x reader #big sky #big sky fanfiction #beau arlen #beau x you #beau arlen x you #beau arlen fanfic #beau arlen fanfiction #reader insert

204 notes · View notes

rocketturtle4 · 7 months

Text

So I started Not Me... (IT'S SO GOOD)

(@wen-kexing-apologist It took longer than planned but I have begun)

I am watching SLOW with people in rather different timezones from me and I had planned to wait till after OF (cause how much First can I cope with yk) but then @anon451 sent me this gif...

...and did I really have a choice?

I just finished Ep 5, I watched Ep 1 three weeks ago, waiting is torturous but I am excercising patience.

SO while I have been thoroughly distracted by how much I am enjoying this show (It's so ENGAGING), have some notes so far.

THOUGHTS

...uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh

Why is everyone so pretty in this show for reals????

ANYWAY

Oh My God I LOVE IT SO MUCH

Young boy seperated from half his family takes on his twin brothers persona to find out who tried to have him murdered honestly DOES NOT sound like my thing...and yet...

...I'm starting to think I'm wrong about what my thing is.

Young man goes on journey of self-discovery and exploration where he is exposed to his own privellege and confronts both the extremism that it can forge but also his own self and views and how he is benefiting from the system and how he can fight it...(from the outside? from within?). Told through his own thoughts, his growing relationships with the "friends" of his twin brother and the contrasting conversations with said friends and his father...

I JUST LOVE IT SO MUCH OKAY

AND we have this story explored in a different thread of "rebelling from within" in our newly discovered cop/artist storyline, cannot wait for that to pan out more!!

(Hey Gawin is totally in this picture okay??)

I never really thought friends were the one's who beat Black up so if that ends up being the case I WILL be shocked

EP 5

This ep however I started to feel uneasy about Todd...

(OMG seriously what's with the PRETTY did they put something in everyone's water??)

We got two different convos which seemed a bit more interogatery than I'd like, maybe he just really wants to know who hurt Black, or maybe he's using White to figure out what the friends are up too...

He IS being presented as very rich and privilegedin this show, in ways that the show is making a point of pointing out problems with (mostly in regard to Black/White's privilege but this also applies to our very rich Todd I would think...)

So is Todd being a good friend?

...idk

Is he Blacks emergency contact? I mean he must be if the hospital called him? or was he there for the beat down and then took Black to the hospital and that's why he was there?

What about the mum, what happened with her? Does she know Black nearly died? (discussed more in a mo)

Todd was the one the hospital called when Black nearly flatlined...

Also the beat down happening so soon after White arriving from Russia...did Todd know he had returned?

Also the ENTIRE car convo felt weird

W: Have you talked to my mum? She might be able to help

T: I reached out, she said she would leave it to the authorities. She wan't no involvement

(How bad was this falling out? Does she know White's back?...or is Tod lying??)

W: Todd, should I go see her?

T: You can but I don't think it'll help. The fight between Black and her was huge. It was so bad they decided to cut each other off. You know that Black got involved in some unlawful business, and your mother is a judge. They're on different sides.

(Todd casually starts prying for more info without pause...(left out B's answers))

T: When you said you'd quit, what did those guys say?

T: Do they want to keep going?

T: Do you know what they're next move is? Is it about Tawi?

T: If you're to do something you must learn all about their plan, it's too risky otherwise

T: Are you going to stop them?

It...it just feels like a lot, although given the nuance of the show so far I don't necessarily think they'll go with Rich = Bad so maybe I am reading too much into this.

I certainly WANT him to only be motivated by helping Black and White get to the bottom of whatever is going on.

I mean obvious answer is Tawi sent people to beat up Black, but why Black specifically? did they know he was the ring leader? Have our gang damaged Tawi's properties before?

We also have Eugene the girlfriend, who Eugene thought Black had broken up with...

Plus whatever maybe feelings are going on/have been going on here

(So is White's theory that Eugene made that but never gave it right...or did Black actually give it to Eugene??)

(Also I know they won't but can I at least get one kiss?? Look at this chemistry ugh please please??)

Although this IS working for me too, which I was a bit worried about, OffGun are not really a couple I've responded too before. But I am enjoying their dynamic in this a lot

Summary

I love the visuals, I love the characters, I love the story, I love the growth, (I keep getting distracted...)

Can't wait till next time!!

@plantsarepeopletoo @shouldiusemyname

Don't know when the next update will be...let me know if you want/don't want to be tagged!

Also I know I asked questions but I don't want answers!!

#Not Me #Roc plays catch up #rturts is wondering #Not me the series

67 notes · View notes

deanoheartspie · 9 months

Text

Sunshine 3

Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader

Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...

Warnings: None

A/N: Let me know what you think and what your theories are!

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Y/N'S POV

Who is this Lisa and who the heck are Ben and Aurora? It wasn't my business so I slowly backed up leaving the green eyed-man with the darker hair woman. After a few minutes she saw them bicker, well it was more of the woman than Dean he kinda just stood there and took it. As if he was used to it.

And let me tell you... He didn't look to happy when he came back over.

“Dean, what happened?” you ask as he drags you off to the diner, the moment we stepped in fresh common rolls filled your nose and you nearly died and went to heaven.

The man ignored your question while he sat on the other side of the booth, waiting for me to decide on what to get.

“Good morning Sheriff, same as usual?” The chirpy young woman asks with a smirk, He nods and as the woman is about to walk away he clears his throat. “You didn't ask her what she wanted.”

The woman looked me up and down as she rolled her eyes, “What do you want?” she asked not caring for an answer. I guess no Southern hospitality.

Did you say or do something wrong?

You had always hated attitude when it was directed at you, it made you feel small and weak. At this point, you knew how to put on your best face.

weakly smiled trying to make your smile reach your eyes, maybe the girl was just having a bad day? You never know. “I'll get eggs and bacon please” keeping your voice steady and quiet, The waitress simply walks off and into the back of the diner.

First Dean with the grumpy look on his face after seeing the 'Lisa' woman and now the waitress who seemed to already hate her. Maybe marriage would've been the best choice... What if your mom and dad were right? You couldn't live on my own.

“Sorry Darlin' I don't know what crawled up her ass today.” Dean apologizes while flipping through the newspaper. A fresh pot of hot coffee was set on the end of the table, so you poured us both a cup and took a nice sip.

Soon enough, the hot food was placed on the table and Dean had quite a lot of food. Three burritos and an extra side of potatoes.

“How the hell are you able to eat all of that?” you asked shocked as he stuffed his mouth with the food, eating like he hadn't eaten for days.

His bright green eyes, flick over to you as he innocently shrugs before grinning, “Well when you work two jobs you're dammed to burn off calories”

The rest of breakfast was quiet, you take out my wallet paying which you learned very quickly that Dean didn't like that not one bit.

“My momma is gonna whoop my ass, if she finds out I let a girl pay on the first date.”

You raise a brow leaning your chin in the palm of your hand, “First date huh” you teased with a shit-eating grin.

“Y'know what I mean” he rolled his eyes a soft smile on his face but he was quick to hide it by picking up the newspaper to hide his face.

-------------☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️--------------

Around 1:25 we arrived back at the ranch, Dean helped me carry my shopping bags upstairs, in all honesty, you expected some complaints but nope he was quiet as a mouse before disappearing off.

You organized all my new clothes into the drawers, putting all your old clothing into bags to donate. You didn't know how long you planning on staying here for, maybe until you got back on your feet and saved up enough money to leave. After all, you weren't made to take care of a ranch.

A few hours later, the sun had started to go down and You hadn't seen anyone since you got home. You walked downstairs seeing the little kitchen light on, your aunt Laura sitting there with a tea and book in hand. “Your here? I thought you'd be at the bar like everyone else?”

The bar?

You shake your head taking next to her, she offers you a book and you nod. We both quietly read for a few, until she decides to call it a night leaving you alone in the kitchen.

*Boom*

Heavy feet walk across the floor as a laugh escapes the Green-eyed man's mouth. He's drunk when he makes his way towards you. “Yo- you look good in the boots” Dean muttered with a grin, wrapping his arms around you tight.

Drunk Dean is apparently very touchy but not in an inappropriate way.

“Thank you?” you laugh as you walk over to the counters, he was dragging himself every time you moved. Filling the glass with water you hand it to the drunken man. “Drink.” He whines burying his head into your shoulder.

“Fine” He pouts as he downs the water before stuffing his face with some oreos. “Carry me?” you snort and start to laugh. “I can't carry you Deano”

It was different from seeing the usual gruff man be all sweet and clingy. In all honesty it was kinda cute.

The man gasps and places a hand on his chest, staring at you like you had said the most offensive thing ever. “Are you... Are you calling me fat!” he squints his eyes at you slapping his hand away after you attempt to help him up. “Get those filthy hands away” he stands up putting his hand on the wall helping him balance, groaning as he trips over the loud creaky stairs.

“Let me help.” you sigh and help him up as he smiles, finally guiding him into his room. Helping him take off his boots tossing them to the siand de, getting him tucked in. “Goodnight Dean”

“Goodnight sunshine”

Chapter 4

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

----Tag list----

@deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @hobby27 @khaleesihavilliard @foxyjwls007 @lucidlivi @jc-winchester @globetrotter28 @beskarfilms @the141bandicoot @alysinwonderland-at-tea @randomgurl2326 @ambergoddess444 @westernwinchesters @lemmons1998 @julie040904 @nic-kolas @raisinggray @alternativeprincess

#jensen ackles #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural #dean x y/n #cowboy dean winchester #cowboy! dean #dean winchester x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester series #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader

117 notes · View notes

morganas-pendragons · 1 year

Text

The Only Exception | Joel Miller

Part two to Haven’t We Given Enough?

Requests for Joel as of 01/29/23 are OPEN.

Inspired Song: The Only Exception - Paramore

Tag: @ironmandeficiency @kirsteng42 @kayleezra @duskwo0d

Synopsis: Following the events of Haven’t We Given Enough, you take the leap to approach Joel after waking up in the Firefly Hospital, when only hours earlier your life had flashed before your eyes as you very firmly believed the three of you were going to drown.

You didn’t.

This is what happened after.

***

Every molecule of your body hurts.

Coming back to the light is hard. The last thing you can remember is screaming for Joel before the water pulled, pulled, pulled and the life you’ve only dreamt of having since your son died flashes before your eyes.

Every molecule of your body hurts, but you will your eyes open anyway.

For Joel.

***

The mirror is grimy. It’s clear that it hasn’t been cleaned in the last twenty years, and between the grime and the dirt that’s accumulated, Joel’s form is nearly unrecognizable.

He’s grateful for it.

He’s not sure he could look himself in the eye.

“Joel?” You call, grimacing as you slowly ease yourself from the hospital bed that had been beside his own. Joel had been pulled under at the same time you had been. Going by the motley of bruises on his skin - tanned skin, so much skin that your eyes are naturally drawn toward it - you think it’s safe to assume he’s just as rattled as you are. “Are you okay? Do I need to go find-”

You wince and cradle your temple as he shakes his head. “No, sunshine,” He calls. “I’m more worried about you. C’mere.”

It’s not the dirt or the fact there’s running water you can clearly hear, it’s the fact that he’s shirtless from the waist up and doubled over against the sink. Bloodied knuckles are wound so tightly around the edge of the sink that they’ve begun to turn white.

Your fingers tremble as you lift them to only put them back down again.

It’s not the bruises either. It’s the scars.

You should’ve been aware that a man as old as Joel had his fair share of scars. So did you. What you weren’t expecting was the magnitude of them. Your eyes are naturally drawn to the larger ones, two that are whiter than the others and stretch diagonally across his shoulder blades.

There’s more. Littler ones scattered across his shoulders and down his back, but there’s two by either hip that are hidden in the midst of freckles there.

You find yourself wondering what those taste like.

“I am fine,” You assure as you pad into the bathroom and come to a stop right behind him. This is probably the most intimate thing you’ve done in the time you’ve known one another. Being able to see each other in such a vulnerable state has your heart racing far faster than it should be able to. “Just banged up. My ribs took the worst of it.”

His voice is quiet as Joel lifts his head to look at you through what little mirror is visible.

“Let me see.”

Your hands work faster than your brain does. Before you can comprehend what you’re truly doing, you’re stepping into the bathroom and shutting the curtain on the door as much as you can before slipping off your shirt.

His entire aspect shifts into something softer, something gentler and with more regret for letting this happen to begin with, as Joel presses further until there’s almost no space between you.

Everything comes to a halt the moment his hands hover over your body. Your body, the body that bore a child, that had its own scars.

“Joel,” You whisper. “You are allowed to touch.”

Joel shakes his head. “I told you,” He snarls quietly, like a wounded animal who’s been backed into a corner and believes there’s no way out of this but anger, by that sharp bit that scared everyone away except you and Tommy. “You don’t want this,”

“I don’t think you get to determine what I want,” You murmur. “I’ve wanted you for months and have chosen not to act upon how I feel because I didn't want to scare you.” He had told you that he was afraid to run after you because you were real. You were real, and real meant possibility and something after, and Joel had spent so long existing - born of his own anger, his grief, his heartbreak born from the loss of his daughter and the end of everything he’d ever known - that he’d forgotten what it was like to live. “And what I want is to love you. For as long as you intend to let me.”

That confession is enough to kick his mind into gear as he grips your hips, careful not to aggravate your injuries, and slowly turned your body to lead you into the shower.

The warm spray was a welcome balm to the ache in your body.

Smoothing wet hair over the top of your head to move it away from your eyes, you purse your lips and peer up at him. He’s so real. He’s human. He’s learned, and lived, and fought, and his body is the canvas in which his story is written upon.

For those first few minutes, Joel doesn’t say a word. He’s afraid that even attempting to speak will only end in cracked voices and tears he’s too tired to shed.

You spend those minutes of quiet running your fingers across the scars on his front, gripping his hip in your hand before turning him around to press your chest to his back.

Joel shivers as your hand dances down his chest, lips cresting across the larger scars on his back as you travel downward to rest on his stomach.

All of you who have lived through the Outbreak have developed muscle. Given the amount of supplies everyone who isn't in an established community has to carry, it comes as no surprise that the years worth of carrying everything you own develops muscle that wasn’t defined before.

He has that. So do you. Both of you have it on your arms. But while so much of Joel’s outer exterior he shows other people is hard, you can feel parts of him that are soft.

That��s the same day you discover your favorite parts of him - in which you’ll come to love more later, because then you’ll get to spend the rest of your life loving those softer parts of him - and it’s his stomach.

It’s soft. Soft under your fingers and smattered with hair.

“Sunshine,” Joel murmurs. “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve only ever been with Sarah’s mother, and she...”

“I haven’t either. Sam’s father was the only one,” You reply. “But I’m willing to learn with you.. If you’ll have me.”

I’m not letting you go even if you won’t.

Joel turns around and reaches for the soap on the shelf. You’re really not being smart wasting water, but this might be the only shower you have until you go back to Jackson. “I can’t fathom why you’d want an old, battered and broken shell of a man like me, but if you want like I want...” He runs the soap slowly down your arm before bowing his head to kiss the skin of your collarbone, lifting your arm to rinse it and following thereafter with a trail of kisses that end at your fingertips. “Then I will give it.”

Because the day I lost her, I promised I wouldn’t sing of love if it didn’t exist.

But you are.. the only exception...

The ache between your legs only intensifies when he kisses you. The water is warm, but his hands burn as they wrap around your hips and pull you close enough that all you can feel is Joel.

Real, human, breathing Joel who wants you as badly as you want him.

You are so deep in your thoughts as the pair of you finish your shower that you don’t realize he’s singing.

“If I ever were to lose you... I would surely lose myself...”

***

Less than an hour later, the two of you are sitting side by side on the bed while Marlene explains what’s being done to your sister. Marlene keeps insisting that neither of you have to worry about Ellie anymore like she isn’t all that’s left of your blood.

She’s being prepped for surgery because the cordyceps has mutated. They’re trying to take it out. They’re trying to take out where it grows all over the brain and that means it’ll kill her.

You can feel your stomach trying to twist and knot so you’ll release what little contents you do have remaining in your stomach.

Joel’s horror is apparent. You’re just trying hard to not jump across the room and gouge Marlene’s eyes out.

And to think.. you trusted her.

“Whatever you two think it is you’re going through is nothing compared to what I’ve been through. I’ve known her since she was born. I promised her mother I’d look after her.”

The soldier who’d hit you in the face with the butt of his gun looks rather smug as you raise yourself to all fours beside Joel and flash a smile full of bloody teeth. “Funny,” You spat. “I remember making a promise to do the exact same thing. And I’m the one who’s actually related to her.”

“I know Sunshine wouldn’t willingly let this happen, so why would you!?” Joel exclaims.

“Because this isn’t about me, or even her! There’s no other choice here.”

“Yeah... you keep telling yourself that.”

You know Marlene. You know how she works, how the Fireflies think. You know she won’t regret a single moment of what’s about to occur, but you will. Letting Ellie die in this hospital is far too similar to the way Sam had died.

You try not to think about it. You could’ve prevented losing your son.

You will not make the same mistake again.

“March them out of here. If either one tries anything, shoot them.”

You’re both on a mission by the time you reach the hallway: Get your stuff, and get upstairs to rescue your sister from meeting Death face to face for a second time in her fourteen years of life.

She’s still got so much to live for.

And you refuse to fail your mother’s dying wish.

***

You’re the one to kill the doctors, in the end. The two on either side of the room are your victims while Joel approaches the one holding the scalpel.

It doesn’t matter.

In the end, they lose anyway.

***

You make a pact sealed with a kiss as Joel loads Ellie into the car. You both knew why you saved her. It’s for your own reasons outside of the fact that the surgery would’ve killed her.

You’d both lost children. You couldn’t endure that again. A parent’s love, despite the fact Ellie was your sister, was what kept Ellie Williams from falling victim to the very surgery that might have saved the rest of human kind.

You make a pact sealed with a kiss not to disclose the truth to her. It might be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

But this time is an exception.

#The Last of Us #tlou #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x Reader #Joel x Reader

250 notes · View notes

blooming-violets · 1 year

Note

My sister in Christ, first off, hi. Second off, amazing writing like *chefs kisses* all around.

I don't know if you're taking requests or not, so sorry if this is out of place. I would love you to smithereens if you did a part three for the Peter Parker car accident fic.

Maybe his girlfriend could come out of the coma but like need lots of help recovering mentally and physically? Idk, just an idea.

Xoxo 🕺💃🏽🕺💃🏽

The original car accident fic can be found [here] AND WAS ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE SHOT but then turned into a part two [here] aaaaannnd now a part three.

It's pretty short but she's awake and alive and here to stay...and spilling all Peter's secrets but he ain't even mad about it because he's just happy she's alive.

She had been awake for exactly one week…if he could call it “awake”.

Coming out of a coma wasn’t anything like the way movies or shows portrayed it. May, and a few other nurses, tried to warn him as such but Peter was never very good at listening. She didn’t blink her eyes open and reach for his hand with a slightly confused smile. She didn’t ask how long it had been or what had happened to put her in the hospital. She didn’t seem relieved to be alive or happy to see him or even knew who he was. It was like she had no concept of being in the hospital at all. Her big eyes gave off vacant stares, almost as if she was sleeping with them open. When she spoke, her voice would be small and scratchy, and nothing she said made much sense. Sometimes she would fall asleep mid sentence. The doctor claimed that this was all normal. He heard the term “PTA” thrown around a lot. Or post-traumatic amnesia. It was apparently something that happens after a traumatic brain injury and is common among people waking from comas. He only half heard what the doctor’s said when they spoke to him. His focus was usually trained on his girlfriend.

Even though she looked rough, he liked seeing her without the tubes blocking half her face. Her eyes might be unfocused and her words might sound like she’s speaking a forgein language at times but she was conscious. Being conscious meant she could improve.

And she did. Day by day. Little by little.

Her memory was nearly nonexistent. She kept getting her dreams confused with reality. She would wake up and be absolutely certain that she had spent the evening dining on a cruise ship in the Alaskan waters. She would excitedly tell him how her boyfriend had managed to win the cruise tickets after competing in a pie eating contest and dominating the other competitors. Then she would pause, blink a few times while staring at his face, and laugh about how he looked just like her boyfriend. Peter would smile and tell her that he was glad she enjoyed her cruise ship dinner. And he was glad. If she got her dreams confused with reality, at least she was having good dreams, and he was present in them…even if she couldn’t make the connection between her dream boyfriend and himself being the same person.

A week after she woke up, her memory was still not right, but it was slowly getting better. Yesterday she had successfully remembered Peter’s face as being someone she knew. It was better than nothing. He pushed the elevator button to her level. Now that she was awake and stable, he felt less guilty running home to shower every few days. When the doors opened to the neuro recovery ward, he stepped out and smiled at the nurses behind their station.

“Hey there, Spider-Man!” One of them looked up with a sly grin. “Save any people last night?”

Peter’s smile faltered and his face immediately flushed as the panic rose, “...What?”

Alarm bells rang in his head. His heart pounded in his chest. How did they know? Did that paramedic say something? He should have never told her his name or taken off his mask in front of her. He thought he could trust her. If his secret got out-

A chorus of laughter followed his panicked spiral.

“Your girlfriend has been telling anyone who will listen that she’s dating the infamous Spider-Man. She claims that he once brought her on a rooftop date overlooking Rockefeller Center during the Christmas tree lighting. We never knew you were so romantic, Spidey.” The nurses giggled, clearly assuming that her words were nothing more than another confused, dream infused reality instead of the actual truth.

Peter forced a smile and took a shaky breath, “Ha, ya got me! It’s me, you’re friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, just swingin’ in to check on my girl.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. How lucky she is to have a real life superhero looking out for her,” she winked at Peter to indicate she was only teasing. “She’s doing well today! Go see if she can remember your face this morning. Don’t want her actually falling in love with Spider-Man instead of you.”

He let their jests fall into the background as he swiftly walked to her room. His heart was pounding in his chest. Not because he was angry she was out here spilling his secrets but because she actually remembered something. Last December he surprised her by setting up a rooftop picnic as they watched the giant tree light up. That was no dream she was recalling. That was a memory.

Peter burst into her hospital room to find May sitting by her bedside and speaking softly to her. He beamed at the two of them, jogging over to his girlfriend and planting a big, happy kiss on her cheek.

She made a face of disgust and turned to May, saying sarcastically, “Who does this nurse think he is? Personal space much? They’re gettin’ real friendly here.”

May chuckled under her breath, “Nurses these days are very hands on. Peter, honey, why don’t you have a seat? I was just about to leave and I’m sure she’d enjoy the company.” They often took turns watching over her as she didn’t have any family of her own.

She studied him from her hospital bed with wide eyes, analyzing his face, “Hey, I know you. Has my boyfriend ever saved you from a disaster? He’s Spider-Man. He saves people. We’re going to get married someday…probably…if he wants to. I’m going to have his Spider babies.”

May suppressed another laugh and patted her nephew’s arm, “She also had a very good dream about Spider-Man last night. I think you might have some competition on your hands.” She gave Peter a quick wink. “I’ve got to get home. I had a full night shift but I couldn’t leave without stopping in to say good morning to my favorite girl. You take care of her, honey. I’ll see you later.”

Peter waited until they were alone in the room before he turned to her with a big smile, pulling up a chair to her bedside, “You are an absolute nightmare, you know that? Almost gave me a damn heart attack today. Could you please do me a giant favor and stop telling everyone you meet my biggest secret?”

“Okay,” she stated with vacant ease. “What’s your secret?”

He laughed under his breath, “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Her smile faded the longer she stared at his face. Her brows pinched together in thought. He could tell she had just remembered something and was working hard to put it into words.

“...Peter…” She whispered. “That woman called you Peter. That’s my boyfriend’s name. You look like him. You come here every day. You sit by me. You bring me flowers. You talk to me. You fall asleep in that chair every afternoon. You look just like him.”

He held his breath and nodded, silently watching her try to put the pieces together. It was like he could see her bruised brain starting to heal in front of his eyes.

“Why do you look like him?” She asked.

He blinked back the tears starting to press into his eyes, asking softly “Why do you think?”

Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes intently studying him, “You’re Peter, aren’t you? My Peter. I think I know you. I think you might belong to me.”

His smile broke through the tears and he quickly cleared his throat, “Yeah. I belong to you.”

“Cool,” she sighed, sinking back into her pillows. Her face settled back in its placid, nearly vacant expression once more.

“I love you,” he whispered to her, terrified of letting the moment pass.

She turned her head back to face him, confusion pulling at her brows, but she flopped her hand out on the bed for him to take. He gladly accepted the offer. It was the first time since she woke up that she willingly reached out for him. His thumb brushed over her fingers as he relished in the feeling of holding her again. He would wait for her forever.

“I think I love you, too,” she whispered back, a tiny smile gracing her face. "Spider-Man."

#tasm #tasm x reader #the amazing spiderman #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #spiderman #car accident fic #car accident #blooming-violets #blooming violets #blooming violets fic

240 notes · View notes

wyattjohnston · 2 years

Text

no sound worse than silence - roope hintz

summary: writing songs has always been how eloise deals with her thoughts, she just never anticipated having so many about so many people with so little warning.

word count: 18,290

note: it takes a village. ky, @laurenairay, @officialgritty & @matthewtkachuk have all pitched in with this over the literal years it’s taken to post. it wasn’t even a roope fic at first and i got 13k in and then the player it was originally about was outed as an absolute scumbag, so here we are.

warnings: pregnancy (not the main character), i obviously did not write any of the songs mentioned or referenced in this fic

playlist

The night had ended prematurely, just after midnight, when the group were unceremoniously booted from the club half an hour after they’d gotten in. Eloise very nearly stayed behind, only to realise that she would be the last one standing if she didn’t also follow Levi and his glass jaw out the door.

A late-night Chinese restaurant was where they ended up; Eloise sitting at the end of the table with her arms crossed as both a sign that she was angry that her night had been ruined and also to fight off a chill. Her mini dress was meant for a nightclub and not much else.

If her group wasn’t loud enough, as their food was being delivered to their table a new group walked through the doors. The guys of the group were… attractive, to say the least. The women they were with were also intimidatingly good looking. The girls of Eloise’s group sat up a little straighter, adjusted their dresses and tried to make eye contact. Eloise wasn’t immune to the behaviour, either.

Levi, through a swollen and food filled mouth, exclaimed that the group who just walked in were hockey players—Dallas Stars, more specifically. None of them would have known that or cared about it if it weren’t for Levi who had grown up in the Northeast before his family moved to Dallas in high school, bringing his love of hockey with him. It had quickly become a fascination of the group.

It was easier to place them when Eloise knew who they were, and she connected their faces to their names, even if she was more used to seeing them in helmets.

“Oh, I’ve heard about her,” Molly said, “The tiny brunette with the huge blond dude, Lindell? I think her name’s Veera. She’s a bitch apparently.”

“You’d have to be a little bit of a bitch to live that life, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. I heard she’s run off like three of Hintz’s girlfriends so…”

Eloise looked back over to their table, her eyes lingering on the tattoos on Hintz’s arms. When she finally stopped trying to work out what the tattoos were of, she realised that he was looking at her, too. Eloise smiled.

The bright white lighting in the restaurant wasn’t going to do her, or anyone, any favours aesthetically; she still made sure to sit up straight with her chin raised as she finally joined the conversation her friends were having.

On more than one occasion Eloise looked up over at the hockey players to see that Hintz was already looking at her—she smiled to herself every time, even if she averted her eyes.

Molly leaned into Eloise’s ear, just to say, “Maybe you can be the fourth girlfriend to get run off.

Eloise bit into her cheek, fighting the smile and laugh that threatened to burst out of her. Across the restaurant, Hintz smiled at her, albeit in confusion.

Once their food was finished, Eloise and the group all stood to leave. Someone mentioned getting Levi to a hospital because both his jaw and his fist were looking worse for wear. Eloise had no interest in being the one to get him there, so she grabbed Molly by the hand and left ahead of everyone else—she spared a glance back over her shoulder to make eye contact with Hintz and give him a cheeky little wave, just her fingers moving. The woman beside him—Veera—pushed him so hard and so unexpectedly that it was enough to send him off his chair. Eloise walked just a bit slower in case he followed her out. He sat back in his chair, though, and Eloise and Molly waited, shivering and impatient, for an Uber to arrive outside.

“I’m going to ignore you for a few minutes,” Eloise said as they finally drove off, pulling her phone out of her bag.

“Did he inspire a song? God, you’re so fucking trashy.”

“Me being trashy is the reason we can afford the house we live in, so I’d shut up if I were you.”

~i only saw you once, in a chinese restaurant~

“God, they’re all over each other,” Molly scoffed, pointing across the club to Hintz and Lindell’s girlfriend. Eloise looked over to them, noting nothing that would really constitute as being ‘all over each other’. Maybe she had looked a second too late. It didn’t make much sense to her that Hintz would be so close with his friend’s girlfriend, but she’d seen weirder and worse. It wouldn’t surprise her given the rumours always flying around regarding professional athletes.

“I think you should go give it a go,” Molly said with a subtle push of Eloise’s shoulder.

“I’m here to have fun with you. I’m not interested in anything else.”

“You literally wrote a love song for him.”

“It’s a song!” Eloise protested. “They’re not all autobiographical. You know that.”

“Fine,” Molly relented. “If you’re not going to try anything, then I’m going to see if Miro’s interested.”

“You do that,” Eloise sighed. She wasn’t going to stop Molly, but she had meant it when her intention for the evening had been to have fun with her best friend. She supposed she could find someone to dance with even if she wasn’t going to go home with anyone.

Eloise fixed her dress—the wet look mini was a favourite for how good it made her look, definitely not for it being the most comfortable—and wormed her way into the middle of the dancefloor, letting the heat of the other bodies consume her. It was liberating to be in the middle of a crowd, moving to the music. It was one of Eloise’s favourite feelings to just close her eyes and let the crowd sweep her up.

A hand touched her waist before the first song was finished; Eloise didn’t even have time to look back over her shoulder before an accented voice in her ear was saying, “Your friends is wasting her time with Miro.”

Eloise couldn’t help but laugh, pressing back into the body and looking over her shoulder to see Hintz. She said, “You underestimate her.”

He didn’t say anything else, just placed his other hand on her waist too and held her close to him, the pressure of his fingers and the warmth of him against her back enough to have her eyes drift shut and let the music and his body consume her.It pained her, when he pulled away at the end of the next song, even though he took her by the hand to lead her back through the bodies and toward the bar—she remembered that she was only in this for the dancing, maybe some making out, but it wouldn’t leave the bar.

She let him buy her a drink, a vodka-soda, and find them somewhere they could sit nice and close so they could talk.

“I remember you from the Chinese place,” he said, despite that having been clear enough to Eloise by the fact that he also remembered that she had been with Molly.

“We’d just been kicked out of Reno’s because one of my friends likes to start fights.”

“You just don’t strike me as the type of girl to sit in a dive bar listening to metal bands.”

The eye roll was instant, and she leant back ever so slightly, to say to him, nearly snarling, “You have no idea what type of girl I am.”

He seemed to notice her movement because he took a drink and didn’t try to press his luck by moving in even closer. Eloise watched him carefully, her own drink raised to her mouth, the tiny, confused lines in between his eyebrows.

“Maybe I’d like to get to know what type of girl you are,” he said, his voice cutting through her so efficiently that her brain momentarily short-circuited.

“I know your type, okay?” she said after clearing her head with a deep sigh. “You know all the right things to say to get my clothes off and, at some point, I’m just going to end up crying myself to sleep.”

The confusion between his eyebrows disappeared, his face contorting into a smirk, “You have no idea what type of guy I am.”

Eloise wanted to punch him.

She scoffed, “Don’t throw that back at me—you’re a hockey player and all hockey players are the same.”

“You have a lot of experience with hockey players?”

She bristled. She didn’t, honestly; not beyond what she’d read about them on the internet or heard from Levi. None of it was favourable.

“I don’t think I need to.”

His shrug was easy. He said, “I think you should get to know me, not just assume things.”

“Seeing as you aren’t getting the hint: I’m not interested. Dating—sex—aren’t anything I want to be involved with, okay? And if you don’t think that’s okay, I will go find my friend who has a habit of getting into fights.”

“It’s okay,” he said, despite his arrogance. “Any chance I can get your name?”

She thought about it, for just long enough to make him uncomfortable, before she nodded and said, “My name is Eloise.”

“Well, Eloise. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

~standing there heavenly, always leaving us sad~

Everyone was gone. All the friends Eloise had arrived with were nowhere to be seen and she had looked everywhere. Her phone was dead—she had no way of calling an Uber and wouldn’t be able to pay a taxi because she was far too reliant on Apple Pay to get her through life. She sighed and tried to look for anybody she could convince to give her some cash.

The bar was full of people, some of whom she was acquainted with and others she had never seen before—not a single one of them she would be willing to borrow money from.

“You look different.”

Eloise was so accustomed to people coming up behind her in bars and speaking into ear that she didn’t even jump at the sudden voice in her ear.

“Do I?”

“You’re wearing pants.”

When she turned to face who she already knew was Roope Hintz, he smiled innocently. He had definitely been checking out her ass.

“I’m in a dive bar, I’m not going to wear a mini dress.”

Hintz hummed, right in her ear before saying, “I came over because you look like you could use some help.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “actually. I really could.”

Silence fell over them until he nudged her to get her to expand on her problems.

“My friends all left, my phone is dead so I can’t get an Uber and I have no cash on me because I’m an idiot who relies solely on Apple Pay.”

“I’ll get you a taxi. Where do you live?”

Eloise looked up at him, her brow furrowed, saying, “Cedars.”

“You want to go now?”

“Yeah,” Eloise said unhappily, “my night’s done.”

Eloise waited patiently near the door as he went back to see his group of friends to tell them that he was heading off—she didn’t entirely understand the practice. She and her friends never did, which is probably why Roope Hintz was having to get her home, so maybe it wasn’t a bad idea.

The goodbyes were expected to be quick and easy, he had promised as much, but it became clear only seconds after he approached his friends that that wasn’t going to be the case. It was, unsurprisingly to Eloise, Veera who was going to be the cause of delay. Veera was getting closer and closer to him, perhaps because it was getting louder as the band started up again, or maybe it was because she was yelling directly in his face. Whatever the reason, it made Eloise uncomfortable and that only got worse when Veera turned her head to glare across the room at Eloise. He put his hands on her upper arms, lowering his head, and soon enough Esa was joining their close conversation. Veera took a step back, shaking his hands off her and turning her back on him.

He deflated visibly, Eloise could tell even from across the bar, but raised his hand in a weak wave to the remainder of his group before he returned to Eloise’s side. With a light hand on her lower back, he started walking them out of the bar without a word.

“What was that about?” she asked tentatively when they were on the sidewalk, as he stepped between some parked cars to try and get the attention of a taxi.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? She just always talks to you like that?”

He huffed, saying nothing to her as a taxi pulled up in front of them. Eloise watched him carefully as she passed him and the door, he was holding open. He refused to make eye contact, so she slid across the backseat and greeted the driver.

“Explain, please,” she said, poking at his thigh. “That was fucking weird, dude.”

He said, tightly and begrudgingly, whilst still staring directly ahead, “It’s her birthday and she was mad at me for leaving.”

“Her birthday? Dude, you should have just stayed! I would have sorted myself out!”

“We’ve spent the entire day hanging out, she’ll get over it.”

“Don’t lie to me. I know you played a game tonight. I saw you rock up about half an hour ago.”

He clenched his fists and rested them on his thighs. Eloise watched him closely, the tightness in his jaw. His mouth remained shut for nearly a minute, Eloise never turned away.

When he finally spoke, he also turned to look at her, “I want to hang out with you, is that okay?”

Eloise bit back a comment about how he didn’t even know her—that the whole idea of him helping her get home was weird and probably unsafe—and if he hadn’t sounded so sincere, she probably would have. He did, though, sound like he was just speaking the truth, and Eloise covered one of his clenched fists with her own hand.

In the silence, she could hear the faint sounds of a familiar drumbeat.

“Can you please turn up the song?” Eloise asked the driver, leaning forward ever so slightly. He did so with a quick nod.

He turned to her, his head tilted slightly, “You like this song?”

“Yeah,” she said with a pleased sigh, tension from their conversation leaving her. “It makes me feel… It just makes me feel.”

Underneath her hand, his fist relaxed, and he entangled their fingers together. Eloise’s eyes fluttered shut and a smile grew on her face as she enjoyed the feeling of his hand in hers and the music on the radio flowing through her mind. It was brief, though, because before the song had even finished, they were stopping outside of her apartment building.

With her hand still in his, and very unwilling to pull it away, Eloise looked at him and asked quietly, “Do you want to come in?”

He flexed his fingers against hers, looked at where they were resting on his thigh as he said, “I thought I was the type of guy you should avoid.”

“You’ve been thinking about that for a week, haven’t you?”

“Do you want me to come in?” he asked instead of answering her question.

“Come inside, Roope.”

The next morning, he left her lying in bed with a kiss so tender that Eloise melted into the mattress and reached up to hold him by the collar of his shirt and promised that he would call.

He did call, before she had even been able to really think about what had happened the night before, to tell her that Molly—“your friend with the blonde curly hair”—was on her way in.

~this ain’t the last time that i’ll see your face~

Eloise was going into her first date with Roope completely blind. Despite daily phone calls and near constant texting, all she knew was that she needed to dress to be outside but not for strenuous exercise.

She waited outside on the street, rugged up enough to keep a bitter breeze away, and looked down the street for his car even though she had no idea what he drove. It was going to be something ridiculous, she knew that much, because he was a young man with too much money and yet, when the Porsche Cayenne appeared in front of her and Roope rolled down the passenger’s window, she was still surprised. She didn’t know if she was more shocked because it was lavish or because it wasn’t as lavish as it could have been.

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” he chirped, his smile large and sincere. The words sounded unusual coming from him due to his accent, it only delighted her more.

With a suppressed laugh—the ugly snorting one she hated—she climbed inside. It was an unconscious decision to lean across the centre console, but Roope must have read her mind because he met her halfway, kissing her more intently than one might consider normal for nine thirty in the morning.

“You just want to kiss me because you’ve seen my car,” he smirked, still leaning into her.

“This is going to bruise your ego, and I’m only a little sorry, but this isn’t the most expensive car I’ve ever been in.”

“You’re joking, right?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

Eloise shook her head, “Have you ever been in a McLaren?”

“No, I haven’t. When were you in one?”

“Okay.” Eloise inhaled deeply and said, “This is going to sound made up, and I know that, but you’ll just have to trust me—I write songs for a living and those songs sometimes get really popular and sometimes I write songs for really famous singers and sometimes those singers own McLarens.”

There was one beat of silence, followed by another. She watched Roope carefully for the inevitable moment where he decided she was bullshitting him—it happened with everyone she told, after all. It never did come, instead he smiled, shocked but not disbelieving.

“That’s—fuck, Eloise.”

“This is a very nice car,” Eloise said sweetly, kissing him once more before relaxing back in her seat. “I would much rather sit in this than a McLaren.”

She looked sideways just enough to see the smug grin on Roope’s face as he took the car out of park and started to drive.

“What’s the most expensive car you’ve driven?” he asked.

“You win that contest hands-down because it’s probably the Toyota I learnt to drive in.”

Eloise couldn’t work out where they were going, despite having grown up in Dallas her entire life—she did not miss all the signs for Dallas-Lovefield, though, and was growing increasingly curious and a little concerned that she was being swept away for a surprise vacation.

They didn’t make the turn off to the airport and Eloise was equal parts disappointed and relieved.

“Are we here to watch planes land?” she asked as they pulled into a small parking lot right by the airport.

“It's really lame, isn’t it?” Roope said sullenly, his hands still on the steering wheel.

Eloise moved her hand to his thigh, squeezing once, and saying, “It’s great, Roope. We can sit here and talk. It’s perfect.”

“Yeah,” Roope said, breathlessly. Nervously. “I have a thermos and some muffins I bought before I picked you up.”

As they collected Roope’s picnic items from the trunk of the car, he explained to her Dallas-Lovefield was the airport the team plane flew out of for road-trips and Eloise couldn’t stop the image of her waiting for him after he’d returned from a road trip that flashed across her mind.

While they ate, Roope started to search to see what planes were landing in front of them while Eloise pulled out her phone to add a few photos and videos to her Instagram story. Molly liked the story almost instantly and sent a star emoji with a question mark, so Eloise knew she was asking if she was with Roope. It reminded her of a conversation they’d had earlier that week, something she wanted to speak to Roope about in person.

“Molly says she saw something online about us leaving the bar together,” she said cautiously.

To her surprise and relief, Roope laughed. He was still laughing when he said, “Nobody cares enough about me to post that shit.”

“Clearly they do because the post definitely said that Ace left the bar with a small redhead with a septum piercing.”

He laughed again, due to her use of ‘Ace’. Eloise had come across it during the week and he had laughed the first time she’d used it around him, meaning she had been using it liberally since.

Roope moved some of the food items between them and shuffled closer so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulder.

“Sounds like they care more about you than me.”

“They care about what your type is because if they can get a clear picture of who you’re willing to take home then they can work out if you’ll take them home.”

“They think my type is redheads?” Roope asked, confused.

“They’re very confused because they thought your type was girls with tattoos.”

Roope’s confusion grew even more, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “I don’t date girls just because they have tattoos.”

“Obviously,” Eloise said, with a gentle smile. “These girls pull together whatever info they can get their hands on to see if they have a shot.”

“They don’t have a shot.”

Eloise turned to kiss Roope’s jaw and then settled her head on his shoulder as she shuffled even closer to him. She said softly, “Breaking hearts all across the world, there, Ace.”

“I’m only worried about yours.”

Eloise felt overwhelmed, immediately. Her heart felt too full for her chest and her lungs felt like they were failing to let in any air. She froze, trying to regain even just some of her composure. When she was able to move again, she reached for his hand, settling it in her lap.

She sighed, “That was all kinds of soft, oh my god.”

“Is that bad?” Roope was laughing just a little as he asked.

“It was pretty fucking smooth,” Eloise said, snuggling closer and being silenced by a plane landing. She eventually continued, “We’ve only really known each other a week.”

“It’s been a good week.”

“Yeah, it has.”

After countless more planes and one interruption from an excited and surprised teen boy, it was time to move on from the date. At Roope’s car, he asked her to hold out her hand, palm up. She did so, watching expectantly as he reached into his pocket for something. She couldn’t see what he was holding in his fist, until he’d placed it in her hand.

She put her finger through the keyring and spun them around as she asked, “What’s this?”

“This is about to be the most expensive thing you’ve ever driven,” Roope answered easily, patting the back of the car and grinning maniacally.

“Why would you let me drive your car?” She stressed, “I’m twenty-one years old and you hardly know me; you shouldn’t be letting me drive.”

“You have a license, though, and you care so that means you’re probably not going to do anything stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” she said, letting it roll off her tongue as the thought entered her mind.

Even still, she wrapped her hand around the keys, smiled nervously at Roope and then raced around to the driver's seat and proceeded to mess with every single setting she could find. Roope stood beside her; the door open as he pointed to all the things that might help her out.

She beamed up at him when she was satisfied that everything was fixed to her liking and he leant down to kiss her swiftly, casually. Eloise was still thinking about it when he was sitting in the passenger’s seat with his seatbelt on looking at her excitedly.

He tried to start multiple conversations unsuccessfully once they were on the road, Eloise tried to answer, she honestly did, but all her attention was very firmly on the asphalt in front of her.

“Are you always this quiet when you drive?” he asked when she’d given him yet another one-word answer to what should have been very open-ended questions.

“No, only when I drive cars that are worth a quarter of a million dollars.”

It had become clearer the longer she sat in the driver’s seat that no money had been wasted on the accessories of the vehicle, and what she knew about cars meant that he hadn’t scrimped on a single option.

“You should sing for me.”

She rolled her eyes and said, “I’m concentrating.”

She didn’t startle when Roope touched her hand on the wheel because she had seen it coming from the corner of her eye. She let him take her hand, drawing it to his lap and just holding it in place. Her other hand moved to the top of the steering wheel and her knuckles went white.

“I can’t wait to know everything about you.”

Eloise felt flushed but she bit into her cheek, seconds away from chirping him again for being soft or for pulling out all his best lines on their first official date. She kept quiet.

~there’s an ocean here, but you are all i see~

Some might say that it was much too soon for Eloise to be meeting Roope’s friends after less than a month of communication. That communication had, as a result of the Stars’ game schedule, been mostly via phone calls and facetime but whenever Roope was in town, they had been spending all his available time together. It hadn’t even surprised her when Roope asked if she wanted to go with him to Esa’s.

Veera was there, curled up on the couch out on the balcony and Eloise knew from the moment she saw her that it was going to take a lot of effort to get on her good side. Taking Roope away from Veera’s birthday celebrations was still playing heavily on her mind no matter how often Roope assured her that Veera didn’t mind. Judging by the way Veera was tracking Eloise’s movement from the house, Roope had been lying through his teeth.

The small talk was pleasant—Esa, Miro and Joel all inviting her into conversations even where Veera wasn’t, so Eloise quickly gave up trying. Roope was beside her the entire time on one of the other couches, his arm around shoulder so naturally that it felt like they had been together for much longer than they really had. It hadn’t escaped her that they were having their conversations in English for her benefit.

“The bunny blogs are getting unreal,” Veera commented, her phone in hand as she leant towards Esa to show him whatever was on her screen.

Roope laughed, simultaneously amused and disbelieving, “Stop reading them.”

“It’s like a car crash—I want to stop but I can’t not read it all,” Veera stressed, coming across as slightly manic. “None of it’s real. Except maybe it is? Maybe I’d believe that Mat Barzal was cheating on his girlfriend every time the Islanders on the West Coast if the next stupid rumour wasn’t that Miro took two girls back to his hotel room in LA.”

“There are more far-fetched things than athletes in their physical prime having threesomes,” Eloise said, mostly without thinking, barely even remembering that Miro was sitting right across from her. She had always subscribed to the idea that most professional athletes should just do away with relationships because of all the rumours she had seen.

Veera levelled Eloise with a glare so disapproving that it rattled her to her core. Roope’s hand squeezed her arm, noticing the increasing tension in her body.

“I think I’d know more about these boys than you would,” Veera said tersely, barely opening her mouth. “It’s the same thing that has been happening for years.”

“I’m just saying,” Eloise said, leaning forward in her seat, “that it’s a novelty for most people to know what happens in the world of the rich and famous. Some people read books or watch movies to escape into fantasy, I suppose others get that from imagining what goes on in the real world.”

“Do you? Is that why you’re defending them?” Veera asked, one eyebrow raised, daring Eloise to implicate herself.

“I’m not defending them; I’m just offering a reason. You’re the one who reads them.”

“I didn’t know that sort of shit existed until my name started popping up in them.”

Eloise shrugged, a tight smile on her face. It was a conversation that could go on forever, circling endlessly until one of them keeled over from exhaustion but Eloise knew better than to be the new girlfriend entering a group and immediately causing shit.

She didn’t quite understand why it mattered if Veera’s name was popping up in any rumours—if she knew for a fact they were rumours then nothing should be bothering her—but it wasn’t her fight to have. If it were her fight to have, she would have something to say about how nobody would care about what she did as the girlfriend of a not-so-popular player on a not-so-popular team if she didn’t give them a reason to care.

Eloise tried to relax as she waited for dinner to be organised. Roope continued to check on her every now and then, with a quick shake as he looked down at her or a quick kiss to the side of her head if Veera looked in her direction. At least Eloise knew that Veera’s behaviour wasn’t in her own mind.

They were getting pizzas for dinner, and it took far too long to order anything because the boys kept trying to pretend that they weren’t breaking their nutritionist’s heart by scrutinising every pizza on the menu before eventually settling on pizzas that any college kid would order.

“What do you do for work, Eloise?” Esa asked politely when they were finally sitting down to eat dinner.

Eloise smiled, “I’m a musician.”

“She’s really good,” Roope interjected eagerly. “Really, really good.”

Eloise’s cheeks went hot at the compliment, and, when she looked at Roope, she couldn’t help but smile at how proud he looked of her. He hadn’t even heard her sing very much.

“I’ve got a guitar gathering dust inside—”

“Don’t ask her to sing,” Veera chided.

“Maybe later?” Eloise offered, not liking that Esa looked like a scolded child for what was a very typical response to finding out that she was a musician.

Doing her very best to avoid Veera for the rest of the evening was hard for Eloise, especially because the boys were clearly very good friends with her and would bring her in to almost every conversation—even if it meant interrupting one, she was having with someone else.

Eloise smiled through it all, though, and didn’t let them see her fret when Roope wasn’t by her side. Miro was the easiest to talk to, she found, less invested in including other people in their conversations and more than happy to get to know her.

It was made clear that the night had been kept purposely small. Eloise knew Roope played hockey, obviously, but had always assumed that nobody could be best friends with every other player on their team—this group seemed to prove her wrong when they brought up stories and shenanigans of other players and about how “next time when he’s here” was a common phrase used by all of them.

Things did settle, thankfully, and Esa pulled out the guitar when the sun was fully set and, after doing her best to tune it by ear, Eloise set up on a barstool and very seriously said, “so, anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

~putting on my music while i’m watching the boys~

As surprising as it was, Eloise could not have been more excited to head out to a karaoke bar at Roope’s suggestion. Not once had she brought up that it was something she enjoyed, though she supposed his leap from singer to karaoke wasn’t farfetched. Molly had even come along for the night; the plan was for them to sing The Time of My Life just as they always did whenever they were conned into singing anywhere. Maybe Eloise would throw in a poppy rendition of Lily Allen’s Fuck You just for fun.

Eloise recognised some of the faces at the bar, the same crowd always showing up even on non-karaoke nights, who in turn recognised who she was with. None of the boys seemed bothered by the staring, able to continue on with their night despite it all. She, on the other hand, found her attention being drawn to whoever was looking their way. It was earning the ire of Veera, clearly, who had hardly stopped rolling her eyes.

A reprieve came when Eloise and Molly—who was revelling in the staring if Eloise was being truthful—made their way up to the stage. Eloise kissed Roope for luck, even though she didn’t need it, and couldn’t help but smile as he tapped her on the ass. The song itself was flawless due to it being well practiced. Eloise had a natural stage presence that many had told her was being wasted because all she did was write the music and lyrics.

The entire time she could see Roope watching across the bar, a proud smile on his lips.

Miro and Joel left the bar all together as the clock struck midnight, but Roope and Esa headed to the bar for the next round of drinks—Molly was somewhere in the building, trying her hardest to get somebody to leave with her Eloise was sure.

“God, why don’t you like me?” Eloise asked as soon as she noticed that she and Veera were the only people left at the table. She leant across it in an attempt to intimidate Veera.

Veera rolled her eyes and said, “Because you’re using him to further your music career.”

Eloise had been certain that the Wonderwall joke wouldn’t go over anybody’s head when she’d played it at Esa’s, and she’d followed it up with a cover of Somebody That I Used To Know to drive it home. Maybe she should have made the joke clearer.

Instead of launching into a full explanation, she opted to say, “He can’t do anything for my music career.”

“I’m not stupid, Eloise.”

Veera definitely sounded like she believed Eloise was nothing but a coffee shop cover singer.

“Listen to me: I have multiple Billboard Number Ones under my belt. He’s not going to give me the clout you think I want from him or be able to introduce me to anyone I haven’t already met. If he could even introduce me to anyone.”

The disbelief on Veera’s face only worsened, and Eloise breathed out a disparaging laugh. She shook her head, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms.

“I don’t trust you,” Veera said calmly, her face morphing into a smile.

“I have a fucking Wikipedia page, it’s all there for you to see.”

“Congratulations. I still don’t trust you. He’s too good for you. And I know you think he’s the type of guy who’s going to leave you the second the next hottest thing comes along which is just not true. I don’t trust you because you’re going to break his heart long before he breaks yours.”

Eloise had no words to say. Veera referencing a conversation from the first night she’d ever spoken to Roope wasn’t expected. Or welcome. Her blank expression was only interrupted when Roope and Esa arrived at the table, Roope sitting down beside her, sliding her new drink across the table as Esa did the same on the other side. Veera’s expression softened so quickly at the sight of Esa that Eloise wondered if she’d imagined the entire conversation.

They didn’t stay much longer, basically finishing their drinks and calling it a night. Esa, Veera and Roope all left together—Roope taking his sweet time to say goodbye properly, his arms wrapped around Eloise’s waist as he repeatedly kissed her until Veera grabbed him by the back of his collar and complained that she was exhausted.

“Are you sure she’s with Esa and not Roope?” Molly asked, staring at the car that was taking the other three away.

Eloise shivered as the question washed over her. She answered, as assuredly as she could, “Yes. I’m sure.”

“But it doesn’t make sense.”

“They’re friends?” Eloise offered, far less certain.

“I’d believe that if you hadn’t also told me that, when Roope got you home last month, he and Veera had a fight in the middle of the bar.”

“She just doesn’t like me, and I haven’t even done anything!” Eloise shrieked, earning a few glances from people who were also waiting for taxis. “She threw it back at me that I told Roope I thought he was the love ‘em and leave ‘em type. He tells her everything.”

Molly’s pensiveness made Eloise anxious, especially so because she remained quiet until a taxi appeared in front of them and she shrugged, saying she didn’t have an explanation that wasn’t Roope and Veera being together. Eloise didn’t doubt that Roope liked her, was the main issue. She wasn’t buying into any conspiracy theories Molly had about Roope and Veera being in a relationship—she just didn’t know what else there was.

~i think of you wherever i go~

It had been a long road trip for the Dallas Stars, up in the Northeast, and no number of Facetime calls had been enough to satiate Eloise’s need to see Roope. Even as he was driving them towards The Great Trinity Forest, Eloise couldn’t keep her eyes off him in case he disappeared while her head was turned.

She was watching him as he drove and also flicking through the most recent playlist she’d put together. She said, “You keep skipping the country songs. I like the country songs; that’s why they’re on there.”

“You couldn’t be more Texan if you tried,” he laughed, letting a Luke Combs song play.

“I could write country music, then I’d be more Texan,” she countered before launching into the song that was playing complete with an overexaggerated southern accent.

Roope laughed at her and let her sing to her heart’s content until the song was over when he shut off the radio. “You write songs—pop songs—that get played on the radio.”

“Okay,” Eloise laughed, “I can do more than write pop songs. The first time I ever talked to you I was at a dive bar watching a metal band.”

Roope hummed taking one hand off the wheel to hold one of Eloise’s when they reached a relatively straight stretch of road.

“Why don’t you write other music?” he asked.

“I’ve written some pop punk songs over the years but people like my regular pop stuff more,” she shrugged, thinking back to her high school years where she almost exclusively listened to All Time Low and The Maine. “I could write a country song.”

Roope laughed, not cruelly, “Trucks and America, right?”

“It’s not all trucks and America,” Eloise said, laughing through it.

Eloise let go of Roope’s hand to turn the music back on, skipping forward a few songs to find the next country song on the playlist—a Jordan Davis song.

There was no picnic involved in their date; it was just the two of them sitting on a bench, cuddled up and looking out to the stars in the sky.

“Write me a country song.”

“It’ll be done when you’re back from your road trip.”

~give me something fun to do~

Eloise spent two weeks writing and perfecting a country song—one without any mention of trucks or cut-off jeans. It was both easier and harder than she expected; the music was a breeze, but the lyrics stumped her for longer than she’d like to admit.

When she let Roope inside, he wrapped his arms around her instantly. It was clear that he was exhausted and devastated after another horrible road trip with a bad win-loss ratio.

“Ready to play me this song you’ve been talking about?” Roope asked, tongue in cheek as he prodded her sides.

“The song I’ve been talking about?” she laughed, untangling herself from his arms. “Not the song you’ve been talking about?”

“I’m so excited,” he said, practically jumping up and down where he was standing. “No one has ever made anything for me before.”

“Buckle up, Ace,” Eloise laughed as she held his hand, leading him slowly to the kitchen.

Beside one of her barstools was her guitar—acoustic, old, familiar. She took a seat and settled the guitar on her knee while Roope watched on, still bouncing in excitement.

Eloise tapped at the body and stared at her fingers resting at the top of the fretboard. She said sheepishly, “You have to turn around.”

“Huh?”

She sighed, “There’s a reason I write songs for other people to sing and it’s because the idea of baring my heart and soul through music is terrifying. So, you can’t watch me.”

“You’re the most confident person I’ve ever met,” Roope said, founded but not moving aside from some twitching fingers. “I watched you sing karaoke in front of a packed bar.”

“They’re never my songs. It’s different,” she told him, keeping her voice low and head tilted down.

He didn’t ask any more questions; Eloise just saw him turn around and she wasted no time in starting to sing.

“Would you walk to the edge of the ocean…?”

Singing to Roope’s back made it no less nerve wracking, Eloise found. Probably because his head kept moving ever so slightly, like he wanted to turn around and watch her but kept catching himself before he did so.

The line she was most nervous to sing had Roope almost turning to ninety degrees before he caught himself. She’d known it was going to catch his attention when she wrote it—and might have been most of the reason she’d wanted him to not be looking directly at her.

“Would you catch a couple thousand fireflies? Put ‘em in a lamp to light my world?”

After the second chorus was when Roope actually did turn around. Eloise was more nervous than she had ever been when singing, the moment when her breath caught in her throat absolutely audible which made it even harder for her to hold it together.

“Perkele, Eloise,” Roope breathed when the song ended, and Eloise lifted her head properly. “That was… I don’t even know what to say. Thank you.”

“I don’t write songs for people,” Eloise said quietly, still tapping gently on the guitar.

“That’s your job.” Roope smiled uncertainly. “You mentioned it just before.”

“No—I—I write songs that other people sing, and sometimes I write songs about others but if someone comes to me and says I should write them a song… I don’t.”

Roope’s brow furrowed. He said slowly, “I asked you to write me a country song, though.”

“Yeah.” Eloise nodded, shrugging but failing at being nonchalant.

“Is this the first song you’ve written for me?”

“It’s not.”

Roope’s smile grew, dopy and sincere. He closed the gap between them, setting the guitar aside so he could wrap Eloise up in his arms again.

Eloise, still on the barstool, buried her face into Roope’s chest and focused on her breathing. That was especially important when Roope lowered his head to whisper into her ear.

“I love you, too, by the way.”

~i just wanna be the only girl you love all your life~

“How was your meeting with Justin Bieber?” Roope asked the second Eloise walked through his door, having just gotten off a flight after a brief trip to Toronto to meet with an artist.

“I still can’t tell you who it was.”

“That’s fine,” Roope said, kissing the top of her head as she stepped into his embrace. “I know it’s him.”

Eloise rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest, the joke familiar and repetitive because he’d been harmlessly needling her about it since she’d told him about her trip. He’d settled on Bieber after scrolling through the Wikipedia list of Toronto musicians. It wasn’t even anyone particularly famous, at least not yet, but that was far less exciting.

She made herself at home, pulling her suitcase from the front door into Roope’s bedroom and taking a shower all while Roope asked questions about her trip as he wandered in and out of the bathroom. The questions ranged from the innocuous about what she’d eaten for breakfast every day, to genuinely concerned about how well she’d slept and everything in between.

Roope barely waited until she had towelled dry before he wrapped his arms around her and let his chin rest on top of her head.

“You always smell so nice,” Roope said as he breathed in deeply. “Do you want to come to Finland with me?”

“Do I—Finland?” Eloise asked, getting tangled in the towel, her hair and Roope’s arms as she tried to turn hastily to gawk at him.

“Yeah?” His voice was filled with amusement. “I go home every summer and I don’t want to be away from you for that long so—come with me?”

After she was finally able to release her arms and her hair, Eloise said slowly, “I need to check a few things, I can’t just disappear overseas for… For how long?”

“A couple months. Depends on the post-season.”

“Even better,” she laughed sarcastically, “Nothing easier to work around than the uncertainty of ice hockey.”

Roope smiled at her sweetly, undermining it immediately by lifting a finger to flick her septum piercing. “You will come, right? Even if it’s not for the whole summer?”

“Yeah, I’ll definitely come to Finland,” Eloise said, casually despite the swell of her heart. She played it off, “Right now, though, you’re wearing way too many clothes.”

His smile morphed into a smirk. “How many clothes is the right amount of clothes?”

“The same amount as I’m wearing.”

Her towel fell to her feet as she moved her hands underneath his shirt, pushing upwards until she was scraping her fingernails down his chest. In no time at all, he was wearing as little clothes as she was.

~who am i to tell fate where it's supposed to go with it~

In the lead up to them getting away, Eloise had a few meetings to fit in. Most of them were just with her publishing company, ensuring them that she was never not actually working so being overseas wasn’t going to impact that, but she had one with one of her favourite artists to write for.

Skye Halstead was one of the biggest names in the music industry and she loved to use Eloise’s songs. It was a lovely working partnership, truly, with Eloise not wanting to be on a stage and Skye being a natural performer.

“You better come back with some Grade-A material, ET,” Skye said, kicking her feet up onto her coffee table.

“I gave you a whole album of material not that long ago. You can’t be ready to release another one. You haven’t even gone on tour yet.”

Skye shrugged flippantly and Eloise just shook her head. There weren’t enough songwriters in the world to keep up with the speed at which Skye wanted to record and perform but that was probably for the best if it made Skye take breaks.

Eloise supposed, taking in the sheer size and luxury of Skye’s home, that that dedication to perform had its benefits. Even more so because she knew that Skye owned a similarly sized house in more locations than just Dallas.

“The album’s doing really well, though.” Skye smiled. “Thank you for it. I know you don’t like some of the producers who worked on it.”

It was true that Eloise had heard who would be working on her songs and nearly marched over to Skye’s and taken them all back. She knew better, though, and said as much.

“Once they get to you, they’re not my songs anymore. You and your people can do what you want with them.”

“Have you thought any more about featuring on a song or two? I want you to get the credit you deserve.”

Eloise’s laugh echoed throughout the room, catching even herself by surprise. She shook her head, reminding Skye that she never had any intention of featuring on anybody’s songs—but if she did, it would be one of hers.

All the credit she needed was on the inside of the CD sleeve—or the metadata of the song file, in a digital word. Enough people knew about her that they checked out her songs regardless of who was singing them. Even then, though, she was ecstatic that she could open the comments on any of Skye’s posts and somebody would be praising a song she wrote, whether or not they knew it.

Social media wasn’t all bad, if she took away the people who kept digging for information about her and Roope.

~on a scale of one to ten, i’m at eleven~

Eloise had flown Business Class before—it had disappointed Roope to know that, just the same as when he found out she’d been in fancier cars than his. She hadn’t been in First Class for a flight as long as theirs to Helsinki, though, which placated him a little, and she was ignoring the mumbled Private Jet she heard come out of his mouth.

They were flying into Helsinki, a direct flight from Dallas-Fort Worth, for a few weeks to hangout with the other Finnish guys before they would head up to Tampere to be with Roope’s family. Veera would be there, but Eloise was trying not to think about it.

Eloise opened Instagram out of happened when she picked up her phone and immediately bit back a groan when she saw the number of DMs she’d received in the few hours since she’d last opened it. At first the Instagram DMs hadn’t bothered her; they were sporadic and curious more than anything else. She’d laughed about them with Molly, showed them to a not-as-amused Roope and then let them all go unanswered.

Her Instagram following was neither small nor large, a few thousand people who typically found her after checking the credits of a song (or three and realising that she’d written a few of their favourite) or on the on occasion because they envied her style. It was getting noticeably larger, though, was the thing. She would wake up every morning to a slew of new follower notifications and more DMs than the day before.

“Did you know that my ex broke up with me because I party too hard? My druggie ex-boyfriend who has never been home before two am ever?”

“What are you talking about?” Roope asked, plucking the phone out of Eloise’s hand over the partition. He sighed. “Do you want me to talk to management and see if there’s something they can do?”

Eloise took her phone back, turning off the screen and tucking it under her leg. She shrugged, “I’m sure someone’s done that for Veera, and it hasn’t stopped for her, right? With all the complaining she does it actually seems to have gotten worse.”

The silence that followed was uncomfortable as Roope tried to think of something to respond with. Eloise didn’t say a thing, though, just dropped her hand onto the partition palm up and wiggled her fingers until Roope entwined his with hers.

“I don’t want you to start believing anything they say,” Roope whispered. “I don’t want them to send you anything, but I can’t control that.”

“You can’t control what I believe either, Roope,” Eloise whispered back. “I don’t—believe them, that is. Not yet anyway. They’re all jealous or just bad people. I’ve got you and I know that.”

“Yeah, you do. You’ll always have me.”

~i feel everything tonight with you~

The plan had always been for Roope to spend time with his tattoo artist in Helsinki. The appointment had been standing since he left the summer before with the intention to add to his sleeve. Ever since they’d booked her flight, Eloise had been thinking about the appointment and discussing hypothetical tattoo ideas with Roope.

“I don’t know a lot about tattoos, but I don’t think artists like an audience,” Eloise said the morning of the appointment while Roope was trying to convince her to tag along.

“Please?” he asked with a pout, standing with one hand on the front door handle.

“I don’t like people watching me when I do my thing.”

Roope huffed a little, shifting side to side impatiently, “What if I made you an appointment?”

“An appointment for what?”

“The dentist,” he deadpanned, not even bothering to clarify. Eloise understood why the clarification wasn’t necessary, but it would have helped her process the thought.

“What would I get?” she asked him, not making eye contact because she was paying close attention to the ink on his arm. “We’ve talked about so many ideas.”

“The cassette was a good idea. You liked that one a lot.”

She did like that one a lot, that was true, and the sketch they’d done for it was simple and a good first tattoo idea—there had been an assortment of scribbles, the rest of them were much larger and more daunting.

“I don’t know if you’re supposed to surprise someone with a tattoo,” Eloise said, even as she slid on her shoes and picked up her handbag.

“If we get there and you decide you don’t want it, that’s fine. I have to go there anyway,” Roope shrugged.

When Eloise was close enough, he pulled her towards him with his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. She could practically feel the excitement running through him.

“You have to hold my hand.”

“What else would I be doing?”

It was a nice walk to the tattoo parlour; one they’d done almost every day since they’d arrived—it was central to most of the city meaning they’d passed it repeatedly whilst doing all the touristy things Eloise had planned for them.

Eloise had never been in a tattoo parlour before, and her nerves were at an all-time high—they were only exacerbated by the rapid Finnish flying around the room with they recognised Roope. It hadn’t been much of an issue, the language barrier, but when she was already highly strung, she couldn’t do much more than reach for Roope’s hand and squeeze it tightly.

“This is Eloise,” he said, switching to English without missing a beat; everyone in the store switched, too, and Eloise was overwhelmed in an entirely different way. She nodded and smiled politely, offering short answers as she was led to a chair.

“Did you decide on which tattoo you wanted?”

“Which one I wanted?”

“Of the tidied-up art I sent back to Roope?”

Eloise’s head snapped to Roope. “You sent my shitty drawings?”

“You can’t just show up without any warning to the artist.” He then spoke to the artist who had introduced herself as Rali, “Eloise didn’t know I made the appointment but we’re going with the cassette.”

“Can I see the final product?”

Rali organised the stencil, muttering under her breath in Finnish—Roope was translating it to Eloise despite it being not very flattering about him and his spontaneity.

With the stencil on her inner right forearm and a death grip on Roope with her left hand, Eloise sat down for her very first tattoo. Roope laughed kindly when he noticed just how tightly her teeth were clenched; no amount of coaxing was going to get her to stop.

The pain was unlike anything Eloise had experienced before. Not necessarily unbearable but definitely not pleasant or something she was rushing to experience again in a hurry. It was a little magical, though, to watch the tattoo form on her arm and even before it was finished, she understood how addictive it was to get tattoos.

Rali left the tattoo uncovered while she worked on Roope—Eloise was mesmerised by it and paid little attention to him. When it was time to leave, Eloise was disappointed to watch it be covered up.

“You can’t take it off,” Roope reminded her when he caught her staring at it for the umpteenth time.

“I know. I was listening,” she huffed. “It’s just mine, you know? I was the same with this,” she said, playing with her septum piercing.

“It’s not going anywhere. It’ll be there later.”

“I don’t know if I can wait that long—hey, where are we going? It feels like you’re leading me somewhere.”

“I am. I have another surprise for you.”

“Another? I don’t know if I can handle more than one surprise body modification in one day.”

“It’s nothing like that. Just somewhere I want to take you.”

Eloise raised a curious eyebrow, pausing just long enough to realise that Roope wasn’t going to tell her anything and then followed him towards their mystery destination.

He took her to a park, which wasn’t unusual for Roope, nor was him keeping it a secret. Eloise was rapt by the sculpture before her, understanding immediately that it was representative of an organ.

“I don’t think you’ll know who he is, but it’s for Jean Sibelius—he’s Finland’s greatest composer. This whole park is named after him.”

“I know the name but have never heard or played the compositions,” Eloise admitted, her attention still on the organ. “Thank you for bring me here.”

Roope was sincerely apologetic when he said, “There’s a museum, too, but it’s in Turku which isn’t near here.”

It was enough, believe it or not, to distract Eloise from the tattoo. The tranquility of the park and the small bits of information Roope was reading off his phone about Jean Sibelius were fascinating, even more so because he was trying to add inflection to everything that didn’t exist—and the random Finnish he filtered into the sentence without realising it wasn’t English.

Eloise stopped him mid-sentence with her mouth on his, overwhelmed by the love that was coursing through her body. There was nowhere else to put it but into a kiss.

~how can i resist, when it feels like this?~

“Hey, babe!” Eloise shouted, poking her head out from the bedroom she’d turned into a temporary music room. “Can you come here, please?”

Roope was there in a heartbeat, nearly tiptoeing because he knew she was in the middle of an important call and needed to be quiet. Eloise couldn’t help but smile.

“The mount for my phone broke,” she said. “Can you go full Instagram boyfriend and hold it while I preview the song?”

Roope nodded enthusiastically, “I’m gonna be the best Instagram boyfriend. You’re never going to want anyone else taking your photos ever again.”

Eloise smiled at him, biting at the inside of her cheek because she knew she hadn’t muted the FaceTime call she was on and the Australian artist, and her manager, definitely heard him—and also probably saw him wrap his arms around her as they walked awkwardly back into the room because he refused to let go.

Singing in front of Roope had become easier, not least because he was always so excited to hear what she’d created. He never stopped smiling while she was playing, and that smile seemed to grow impossibly bigger whenever they were even slightly romantic. Perhaps it was pride, because he was the source of inspiration, or perhaps it was just because she was singing hopelessly romantic songs while making eye contact with him.

When she was done with the song, she saw the phone move in Roope’s hands and knew that he was nearly failing in his attempt to not clap for her, because he knew that he still needed to hold the phone up so she could be seen. When she took it from him, she moved it so it was facing the wall, pretending that she was just rearranging everything, and kissed him softly, thanking him.

Climbing into bed together, as they did later, had become so normal that Eloise and Roope had their night-time routines perfectly planned around each other and timed so that they were pulling back the covers at the same time. They both moved to the centre of the mattress, rolling onto their sides so they were facing each other. It was all ridiculously honeymoon phase, Eloise thought, but it was nicer than anything she’d ever experienced so she wasn’t going to fight it.

“What’s on your mind, babe?” Eloise asked, cupping Roope’s cheek.

“I want you to be friends with my friends.”

“I am. Your friends are great, Roope,” Eloise assured him.

Roope frowned. Eloise brushed her thumb between Roope’s eyebrows, trying to smooth out the creases. He didn’t say anything in response, just let his eyes flicker over various parts of his face as she did the same to him.

She sighed, quietly, “I’m trying with Veera. I love you, right? And I love the guys, too. I’ll work something out with her. Promise.”

He kissed her softly, his eyes fluttering shut. Eloise let herself melt into it.

~i just might love you forever~

The drive from Helsinki to Tampere was just over two hours. Roope had told her that once upon a time he had considered that too far for a day trip but since moving to the US that had changed—for him and the other Finns.

As a little weekend getaway, the whole crew was coming to Tampere. Esa and Veera from Helsinki, Miro from Espoo and Joel from Vantaa. Eloise was learning a lot about Finland’s geography.

Their presence was more than welcome for the company and the semblance of home, which Eloise was starting to miss just a little more as the days went by. Their boisterousness, particularly, was something that Eloise had missed even in the short time since they’d left Helsinki. She was even starting to miss Veera if she was being perfectly honest.

“While we’re all here,” Esa said, cutting through a small silence that occurred while they were sitting around empty plates, and drawing all attention to him, “we have some news.”

“We’re going to have a baby.”

Hands banging on tables was the next sound heard, closely followed by loud hollering that Eloise was more than happy to partake in. Things settled into hugs and congratulations and conversations about the future.

“I’m really so happy for you,” Eloise said when she managed to get Veera in a space they could actually hear each other. “It’s so obvious that you’re both going to be amazing parents.”

Veera smiled at Eloise, any animosity between them seemingly non-existent. The lack of animosity was almost certainly by Veera being determined to not let anything ruin her day, but she still let Eloise wrap her up in a hug.

“We’ve been talking about it for so long. Trying for so long,” Veera admitted. “Now that it’s actually happening, I am… Not scared but maybe a little.”

“That feels like a really normal reaction. I’d be shitting myself, personally, so you’re doing much better than that.”

“Do you want kids? With Roope?”

Eloise breathed in deeply, held it for a few moments to think of her next words before she said, “I haven’t decided for certain one way or another. Roope and I haven’t talked about it.”

“You should. Not to immediately scare you off, but he wants kids. He doesn’t talk about it a lot and he’s obviously not that that point right now. He does, though.”

That wasn’t a surprise to Eloise. He hadn’t ever given her any indication that he didn’t want kids, and any interaction he had with kids was always positive—if not a little awkward but that wasn’t any reason to believe he wasn’t interested in having his own.

Everyone was staying in Tampere for the night because, despite them all admitting that it wasn’t so far away, nobody was interested in driving home after eating dinner, so they all left Roope and Eloise’s rental close to midnight with high spirits.

She was crawling into bed beside Roope, easing into the space he’d created for her and cuddling against his bare chest without any hesitation. It was too late and they were both a little too drunk to want to have much fun, but they would never turn down cuddling.

“Does it make you want to have kids?” Eloise asked, keeping her voice quiet to not disturb the bedroom’s calm.

“Right now?”

“No, but… at some point. Is that what you want?”

“I think so, yeah. We don’t have to talk about it now, kulta,” his voice was filled with a little laugh. “Just because Esa’s having a baby doesn’t mean I need to.”

Eloise let it go in favour of sleep.

~and i like the thought of being the one you come home to~

“You’re so fucking far away,” Molly grumbled as she stared down the phone.

“You’re in Cabo.”

“Yeah, and if you didn’t have a foreign boyfriend, you’d be here with me.”

Molly moved around, giving Eloise a stunning view of the beach she was sunbathing on. Eloise retaliated by turning the camera around to show off the Museum she was about to walk into; she knew before she’d even shown it that Molly wasn’t interested.

“Next time you should take me somewhere I’ve never been before,” Eloise countered. She’d lost track of the trips they’d taken to Cabo since they met in college.

Molly made a comment about Eloise being the one to take them anywhere, being the one who made more money eliciting a strained laugh from Eloise.

“What have I missed since you last made time for me?” Molly asked, rolling over so that the sun could get her back and set the phone up in front of her so she could rest up on her elbows.

Eloise sat down on a bench outside the museum, making sure it was in the sun, because seeing Molly on a beach was making her feel much colder than she really was.

Recounting the few days since they’d last spoke was quick—Eloise hadn’t met Roope’s parents yet because they, too, were on a vacation and not yet returned, so she only had details of places she’d eaten at or places Roope had taken her. No places that were of interested to Molly, of course, because there wasn’t sand.

“Oh! Veera’s pregnant!”

Molly’s eyes widened behind her sunglasses.

“Good for her,” she said, failing to hide her sarcasm. “Pretty big, though. What did Roope have to say?”

Eloise, knowing what Molly was getting at, simply said, “He’s happy for his friends.”

“Well, duh, but like… You’re thinking about it now, right? Having a baby with Roope?”

“We’ve been together for five months. He also doesn’t want to talk about it beyond saying that he wants kids one day.”

Molly hummed. “Bummer for you, though.”

“Bummer for me.”

~let’s play pretend that we’re out here alone~

Eloise was more than enjoying her time in Tampere—she spent a lot of time searching for parks to break up the monotony of cobblestone, but even the stone was charming. She also did some shopping on her travels, practicing some Finnish but mostly being grateful that most people seemed to have enough of a grasp on English that she was never stranded.

By the time she ventured back to their apartment, it was nearing dinner time and she was ready to find out what Roope had planned—he’d been surprising her every night with a home cooked meal or a new restaurant.

Things began to turn when she had to knock on the door to be let in. Roope had been so lax with security since they got to Finland that he’d just been leaving the door open when Eloise was out.

Veera answered the door, entirely unexpectedly, but Eloise accepted that she had probably locked the door when she entered out of habit, so that explained that away.

“I didn’t know you and Esa were coming back up,” Eloise said, smiling. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’ve booked you a hotel room.”

“Excuse me?”

“You aren’t staying here tonight. You don’t get to tell strangers on the internet our secrets and stay.”

“What are you talking about? Just let me in and we can talk about it,” Eloise said as she tried to push her way in, but Veera was holding firm. “I’ve been on my feet for hours, Veera. I want to sit down.”

“What am I talking about? I’m talking about the message I received this morning all asking me when I’m going to post about the baby, or when I’m going to tell what the sex is.”

“But that wasn’t me. I didn’t… I wouldn’t do that!” Eloise protested. “You have to believe me.”

Veera laughed, cold and cruel, asked “Wanna know how I know you’re lying? I can count on one hand the number of people who know about that and you’re the one I don’t trust.”

There were so many words flying through Eloise’s mind and not a single one word was making it to her mouth—any sort of defence would have been better than standing in the hall with a gaping mouth and wide eyes whilst Veera stared at her stone-faced and murderous.

People were moving around inside, noisily and chaotically and Eloise wanted nothing more than to push Veera aside and join them, to be as far from her as she could get.

Veera cleared her through, drawing Eloise’s attention back and clearly expecting something from Eloise who was feeling even sicker as she finally recalled something.

“I—I only told Molly,” she admitted quietly, staring at her feet. “She’s my best friend and I tell her everything… She's the only one I told.”

“Maybe you need to think about getting a new best friend, then,” Veera said bitterly.

“It’s just one thing, an accident, I’m sure!” Eloise all but shouted, her defences right up. She hoped that the boys inside would hear and come to her rescue; would pull Veera up for what she was going.

“An accident?” Veera laughed sarcastically. “I thought you were the one leaking your relationship with Roope for the clout, but maybe your best friend is behind that, too.”

The coldness that washed over Eloise was freezing and the shiver down her spine was as startling as the revelation that the people on Instagram might have had a direct line into her life.

Without a word, Eloise turned her back to Veera and walked to the lift so quickly that her legs began to burn—only because her eyes were already burning and there was no way she was going to let Veera see her cry.

~i know a girl; she gets what she wants all the time~

Getting a hotel room hadn’t been fun with her minimal Finnish and the clerk’s minimal English but there were only so many things a person could be asking for when they stand at hotel reception, handing over their passport and a credit card to try and match the booking Veera had told her existed.

The thought did cross her mind that Veera had been lying just to fuck with her even more, but apparently even she wasn’t that cruel.

Loneliness had crept in almost as soon as she stepped foot inside the room, and it had never left. Being alone with her thoughts exacerbated all her confusion and sorrow as she tried to parse what Veera had said—what Veera had done. Tried to parse Roope not responding to her text asking for clarification, nor for her saying that she’d be back at his place in the morning so that they could talk.

The time she gave him didn’t matter, nor did the alarm she set on her phone because she laid in the uncomfortable bed and just waiting for the sun to rise so she could put on some of the clothes she’d bought just the day before and walk through Tampere.

Eloise knocked on the door, after trying the door handle and finding it locked despite Roope knowing she was coming over and waited. Her foot tapped of its own will. Roope didn’t look happy to see her. It was a startling realisation to see that he wasn’t even fighting a smile when he opened the door. He just stared at her, exhaled, and stood aside to let her in.

Eloise brought her purse to her stomach, something to hold close.

“You didn’t text me back yesterday,” Eloise whispered, filling the silence that was consuming her. Them.

Roope waited a moment, until they were standing the entry hall with the door shut behind them to say, “I didn’t have anything to say.”

“But you have something to say now?”

“You promised me you’d try to be friends with Veera.”

“I was trying!” Eloise protested. “She hated me from the moment I showed up and then last night she accused me of something horrible and wouldn’t even let me see you! She put me into a fucking hotel room.”

There was another beat as Roope collected his thoughts, adding to the tension between them. He was so tall, so large, so intimidating standing opposite her and Eloise had never felt that way around him.

“It was the truth, though,” Roope said. “What she accused you of.”

“You don’t even want to hear my side of the story?”

“No. I don’t,” he said firmly. “This is it, Eloise. We’re done.”

The words fell from his mouth with so much conviction that Eloise felt like a kick to the gut. She gasped, her body shaking, and her vision instantly began to blur. She took a step closer to him; only for him to step back out of reach and cross his arms over his chest.

“You’re choosing her over me?” she asked in a whisper, her voice trembling.

With the same steely voice, Roope said, “She’s my friend—”

“I’m your girlfriend,” she pleaded. “I made a mistake. I trusted someone I really thought I could trust and you’re going to break up with me for it?”

“You shouldn’t have told anyone, Eloise. That was never your secret to tell, not even to Molly.”

There were so many tears in her eyes, and rolling down her cheeks, that she could hardly even see Roope. She wiped them away furiously, hoping that when she could see clearly Roope would magically be smiling at her—that it would all be over. He looked exactly the same as when he’d opened the door, emotionless. So emotionless in fact, that Eloise couldn’t help her next question.

“Do you even love me? Have you ever?”

Roope flinched, but it was so slight that Eloise may have imagined it. He did clench his jaw, though.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re just going to break up with me because of what someone else has said. You’re not even going to listen to me.”

“How do I even know if I can trust you? If you’re going to share something as big as that, what’s to say you won’t start telling the world about my life? About the other boys’ lives? People on Instagram and Twitter already know way too fucking much about us—how does it not get worse from here, Eloise?”

“I can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“I don’t know what I think of you right now.”

“Fine. That’s fine. You won’t hear from me again.”

Eloise, halfway out the door, stopped, just to turn around and spit in his face, “Nobody even gave a fuck about you guys before I showed up.”

“Exactly.”

~are you as sad as me now?~

Entering Finland with Roope by her side had been easier for the primary reason that he’d navigated every section of their path through the airport in Finnish or been able to turn the conversation easily into English without Eloise having to admit, embarrassed, that she couldn’t speak the native language.

That was all out the window as she stood in a queue for the customer service desk and tried to control her breathing, pre-preparing anything she might say. Though, that all went out the window when she opened her mouth and nothing, but a sob came out.

The poor desk attendant was visibly startled, her finger hovering over the keyboard for a brief second before she reached for a box of tissues to put in front of Eloise and remained silent whilst Eloise controlled herself.

She asked a question in Finnish, and Eloise just shrugged hopelessly, a watery apology coming out of her mouth to explain that she only spoke English.

“Where would you like to go?” she asked, softly.

“Anywhere in America. I just need—I need to go home.”

It took awhile for Eloise to explain that she didn’t care which city she went to, that she could end up in North Dakota if it meant that she was no longer in Finland. When she finally revealed that she wanted to end up in Dallas no matter how many flights it took, the woman at the desk, Liisa was on her nametag when Eloise’s eyes were finally not clouded by tears, looked at Eloise a little more closely.

Eloise’s gaze dropped immediately—there was only one reason someone in Finland would know her, and he was the reason she was sobbing while trying to flee the country.

There was a lot of back and forth as they tried to organise the best way for her to get out—she’d have to wait until the next morning for a flight out of Tampere which connected through Helsinki and Paris but she would happily take whatever she could get and she was so desperate that the business class airfare didn’t even make her flinch.

“I hope that whatever you’re going through passes,” Liisa said as she handed over a boarding pass and information for Eloise’s hotel room.

Eloise managed a small thank you as she left.

~but i can’t go back to that night~

Eloise was waiting for Molly on their couch when she wheeled in her suitcase and carry-on, sporting a lovely new tan courtesy of Cabo San Lucas. She’d spent the better part of two days planning a conversation to have with Molly about boundaries and secrets and she had every intention of being level-headed about it—up until the very moment Molly came into view.

“You couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut?” Eloise snapped, cutting through whatever greeting Molly was going to offer.

Molly recoiled at the intensity and asked, “What the fuck are you talking about, Eloise? Do you have to ruin my Zen the second I walk through the door?”

“Who did you tell about Veera? Why did you tell anyone? Jesus Christ, Molly,” Eloise stressed, standing up and throwing her hands in the air in frustration. “I told you not to tell anyone!”

“Why are you so upset with me?” Molly huffed, flopping down onto the couch. “They’re celebrities, they’re not even real.”

“What do you mean they’re not real? Of course, they’re real! You’ve met them!”

“It doesn’t count when they’re famous.”

“Veera isn’t famous.”

Molly opened her phone, starting to scroll right in front of Eloise. She said, “She knew what she was getting in to.”

Eloise slapped the phone right of out Molly’s hand, it hit the couch cushion with a thud, and Molly gawped.

“Because she met Esa when they were fifteen?” Eloise asked. “Molly, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“She throws herself all over those boys,” Molly answered, sneering, but otherwise not showing any sign that Eloise had even done anything, “and they’re famous so people deserve to know what they’re up to.”

“That includes telling the world my secrets?”

Molly, innocently, without a care in the world, shrugged, “It’s all harmless.”

“But it’s not. I was telling you because I trusted you and you took my trust and laughed behind my back.”

“God, you’re so dramatic.”

“You want dramatic?” Eloise snapped, her voice louder and angrier than she could ever remember it being. “I’m kicking you out, right now. I want you gone tonight, and all your shit gone by the end of the week.”

“Eloise!” Molly shrieked, springing up from the couch.

Eloise ignored Molly’s disbelief, saying, “Your last piece of gossip is that Roope Hintz is now single.”

“Oh,” Molly said, her head tilting and a malicious surprise filling her voice and eyes, “so she ran you off, too, huh? You��re pathetic, Eloise.”

Eloise left, closing the door to her room as she did so. She wasn’t going to give Molly the satisfaction of knowing that she didn’t disagree.

~’cause you’re on your own in the real world~

Eloise tried to keep a low profile, or as a low a profile as she could when she was getting coffee with Skye Halstead in busy Dallas cafés. She wasn’t getting noticed when she was on her own aside from a few fans who had recognised her, and she wasn’t aiming to change that.

Spending time with Skye, who was taking a break from touring, meant that they were frequently interrupted but they both knew the risks they ran by being out and about and Eloise couldn’t deny Skye wanting to get out of the house.

“I’m in love with all the demos you’ve sent me.”

“Nothing quite like heartbreak to get the inspiration flowing,” Eloise said disparagingly.

“Selfishly, I’m glad, but I’m also human so I am sorry. Sorry about your boyfriend, and that friend of his, and for Molly.”

Eloise didn’t divulge much information to Skye, trying to keep their relationship semi-professional, but it had been months since she left Finland and she still couldn’t get past what had happened. Nobody really knew, was the worst part. Her friends were still talking to Molly, too, and Eloise couldn’t risk them letting anything slip to her, so one day, after a lonely Christmas, she’d spilled her heart out to Skye who already knew the realities of Eloise’s emotions based on the songs she’d been producing. Eloise’s eyes kept flicking to the door, it caught her attention every time it moved. Nobody had caught her eye the entire time they’d been there, and she’d looked back to Skye just as quickly as she’d looked away—right up until someone did.

“That’s Veera—my ex’s friend,” Eloise said when Skye noticed she’d lost her attention. “I… Dallas is so fucking big.”

“Do you want to leave?” Skye asked, already reaching for her purse. “Or, do you want to talk to her?”

“No,” Eloise shook her head. “Neither.”

The month of January passed by and at least once a week Eloise managed to be where Veera was.

She was mostly going out for coffee alone after Skye went back on tour, so she had to make a conscious effort to distract herself and not stare at Veera and get growing belly.

Veera was often with other WAGs, most of whom Eloise had met only once or twice so they never really noticed her and the fact that they never did indicated to her that Veera at least hasn’t thrown her name through the mud.

When the opportunity arose thanks to Veera being alone at a table, Eloise walked over cautiously. She didn’t sit in the spare seat, immediately, just quietly greeted Veera to get her attention.

“Roope told me you lived in Cedars when Esa and I were looking at houses,” Veera stated. “I didn’t think it would be an issue and we moved down in September and for like four months I didn’t see you at all—”

“And now I’m everywhere,” Eloise finished. “It’s not on purpose, freelance work let’s me be wherever and we like the same cafes, apparently.”

“I’m not accusing you of stalking me. If you were, I don’t doubt there’d be random photos of me somewhere.”

“I kicked Molly out—it was her. I’m so sorry. She thought that just because you’re famous—or Esa is—that you were fair game.”

“He’s a hockey player in Dallas,” Veera said, her disbelieving laugh sounding more stressed and confused than anything else. “Tyler Seguin isn’t even really famous. I’ve seen you with Skye Halstead; she’s famous.”

“We weren’t really friends when Molly was around,” Eloise said, thankfully, “or it would’ve been a fucking nightmare. It wasn’t fair to you, that she didn’t care about your privacy and I just came over to say I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, Eloise. That means a lot. I’m sorry you lost a friend.”

Eloise noted that Veera wasn’t sorry about her losing her boyfriend but didn’t bring it up because causing a scene would be good for nobody. She apologised for interrupting, made a joke about probably seeing Veera around and then left without any further fanfare.

~here’s an opportunity to get your feelings straight~

Eloise wasn’t surprised when Veera walked in. She was surely not far from giving birth, if Eloise had remembered the due date correctly as being in February but even if she had remembered wrong there was no denying that Veera was visibly near full-term.

They hadn’t seen each other since Eloise decided to speak to her, and Eloise expected them to just continue living their separate lives in the same coffee shops—which is why she stared up with her mouth agape when Veera stood beside the table and asked if she could sit down.

Eloise eventually nodded and cleared a space on the table for when Veera’s coffee was delivered.

“I can’t wait to not be pregnant,” Veera griped as she slowly lowered herself down onto the chair, after pulling it out far enough to accommodate her bump. “I don’t remember what it’s like to sit down like a regular person. Or to have regular sized ankles.”

Eloise smiled, mostly out of politeness than anything else because she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t really think of a reason Veera would sit down with her unless to berate her even further—which she wasn’t particularly interested in after so many months of the loathing being internal.

“Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?”

“I—I don’t know? I feel like I owe you something now that you’ve told me you’re not friends with Molly anymore. I don’t even really know if I believe that she isn’t.”

“You don’t have to believe me. I didn’t tell you to gain anything from it, I just wanted you to know who was really behind it.”

The silence they fell into wasn’t comfortable but Eloise had no idea what to say, given that Veera was the one who’d sat down and initiated the conversation. Only, it didn’t look like Veera knew what she wanted to say either.

Veera’s coffee was delivered and the silence stretched out until Eloise spoke, before she could overthink.

“Can you tell me why you hate me so much? I just… Sure, you don’t have to like everyone, but I didn’t do anything to you. Even before you thought I was telling everybody your secrets, you hated my guts.”

“Roope’s basically my little brother,” Veera said, slowly as she tried to think. She was clearly caught off guard by the question, though Eloise didn’t know what else they would have spoken about. “Every girl he’s ever dated has been with him for fame or money and you reminded me of every single one of them.”

“If I was trying to get famous… Why would I have picked a hockey player in Texas?” Eloise asked, throwing back to what Veera had said when they spoke previously. “He’s good at what he does, sure, but that’s not exactly a winning combo.”

“No, I worked that out. Then I thought that that was the exact reason… You didn’t want to be famous, or you would be, so you must have wanted his money. All the benefits of fame without the hassle.”

“That’s a pretty shit reason to hate me so much. To try and break us up. With zero proof.”

Veera looked sheepish, staring down at her food. She nodded, hesitantly, before she looked Eloise in the eye, “I’m sorry. I had no right to treat you that way from the beginning.”

It wasn’t the apology Eloise was looking for, even if she couldn’t actually say what it was that she was actually wanting, but it did settle some of the discomfort she’d been feeling in her chest.

She ordered another coffee and Veera did, too—apparently ready to settle in for a longer conversation.

“You written any songs about this whole thing?” Veera’s question was tentative but interested. “I know how hard it can be when you’ve got no inspiration. I just thought that this was great stuff for some songs.”

“I’ve got a few. One’s about Molly but, um, one of them might be about you.”

“About me? Perkele, like some Misery Business once a whore, you’re nothing more stuff?”

Eloise denied it, though she couldn’t deny that it was an unflattering song. That it was literally titled Mean.

She picked up her bag, reached into the side pocket and pulled out a USB stick, saying, “This is the only copy of the song. It was cathartic and it doesn’t need to go anywhere. So, it’s yours.”

“You want me to listen to you talk shit about me?”

“No,” Eloise said, shaking her head. “If you want to, be my guest, you can just destroy it, though. It doesn’t matter.”

Veera took the USB, rolled it in the palm of her hands, and shook her head in disbelief.

“I always wanted someone to write me a song. Not quite like this.”

~she just wants one thing from you (your money)~

It was so late that her phone made her jump when it rang. Nobody really called her during a regular day, let alone when it was nearly midnight. She scrambled to answered it and was even more shocked by the name that appeared across.

Veera Koskinen.

Eloise answered it, because there was no way Veera wasn’t calling her if it wasn’t important and, sure enough Eloise hadn’t even cautiously greeted Veera when she was hearing a pained groan down the phone.

Veera managed to say, through gritted teeth, “One second.”

Eloise listened as Veera experienced what was undoubtedly a contraction; frozen still and entirely unsure of what she should be doing while she waited.

“I know I shouldn’t ask this of you,” Veera said, her breathing heavy but her contraction clearly over, “but I am in labour, and the boys are in Colorado, and I just need to get to a hospital and you’re the first person I thought to call.”

Eloise was on her feet instantly, rushing around her house for clothes, shoes and her car keys. She was trying to speak calmly to Veera, assuring her that she was coming and that she’d be there are soon as she could—calm wasn’t easy, though, not when she had no idea what she was doing and Veera herself was panicking because she was in labour.

Eloise didn’t end the call when she got in the car and listened to Veera go through a contraction every five minutes as she drove to her, breaking more than a few traffic laws on her way.

She was waiting at the front door with a ready packed bag, bracing herself against the wall in anticipation of the next contraction. Eloise stood still in the doorway, her eyes wide and her heart in her throat.

“Veera, I am so unequipped for this,” she said honestly, reaching for the bag to do something.

“Just get me to the hospital,” Veera demanded. “Esa’s already on his way to the airport and with any luck he’ll be there before I have to push.”

Eloise did just that—got Veera to the hospital—and tried not to get in the way as she was checked in and checked over by the doctors. The room felt smaller than it actually was as she tried to find a place. She didn’t know if she was even supposed to be sticking around until Veera’s contractions seemed to slow down and she cried frustrated tears.

That was Eloise’s sign to stand right by Veera’s side and hold her hand, offering all the support she could and not complaining for a single second about the pain in her hand as Veera squeezed. She didn’t leave her side until there was some mad rushing outside the door to her room and Esa appeared in the doorway looking perhaps even more frazzled than Veera.

“I’ll head off, then,” Eloise said, letting Esa take her place. “Call me if you need me again. Good luck.”

Esa thanked her profusely, through gritted teeth as Veera squeezed his hand through yet another contraction. Eloise was almost out the door when Veera called her back to her beside so she could kiss Eloise’s head.

~just you rest into your mother’s arms~

Eloise didn’t hear too much about the baby, though she did get a lovely bouquet of flowers with a grateful message, and a text message with a photo of Veera, Esa and baby Osmo. After that everything returned to normal—or the normal of Eloise not seeing Veera at every café she went to.

Tending to a baby probably didn’t leave much time for coffee.

She thought about them frequently, regardless. She may not have been present for the actual birth but the labour wasn’t something she was going to forget any time soon.

Of course, once Eloise had gotten used to not seeing Veera around it was when she showed up at Eloise’s door.

Veera was at her front door, looking very much like the tired mother of a newborn, with Osmo in a baby carrier. Eloise had no idea what to do.

“I know I keep just showing up and forcing you into things, but can I come in?”

“Uh, sure,” Eloise said uncertainly, stepping aside and peering into the baby carrier as Veera passed.

Veera lifted Osmo from the carrier when she was sitting on Eloise’s couch and handed him to Eloise without so much as a second thought and then promptly laughed—kindly—when she told Eloise to relax.

“Why are you here?”

Without any sort of warning or fanfare, Veera said, “I’m willing to try and be friends if you are.”

“Really?”

“I called you in the middle of the night and you drove me to the hospital and stayed with me until Esa arrived,” Veera recounted as if Eloise hadn’t been there as it all happened. “I can’t deny that that’s some best friend shit.”

Her protests were instant just because it wasn’t as if Eloise was going to leave Veera stranded but Veera emphasised the Eloise had stayed and that she very much wanted someone like that as her friend.

Eloise looked down at Osmo because she didn’t know where else to look, trying to find features of his parents but coming up short because he looked like a baby more than he looked like either of them.

“It almost feels like my entire relationship with Roope was more about you and me.”

“I’m sorry,” Veera apologised—every apology was feeling more sincere than the last. “I did want like you for Roope’s sake, there was just something that didn’t sit right—Molly, apparently.”

“Yeah, well I solved that problem and now I need a new best friend.”

“We’ll be best friends one day,” Veera said lightly. “The universe is mysterious like that.”

They chatted, like friends would, for so long that Veera got a call from Esa to check on her and where she’d gone.

Eloise walked Veera to her car, waiting until the very last second to ask, “Do I call him? See if he’ll talk to me.”

“Let him come to you; he’s gotta work through it all, too.”

~i’m just looking for some real friends~

And so it went, Eloise became friends with Veera. It was tentative, at first, but without the presence of Roope they actually got along quite well. Eloise was able to help with Osmo and give Veera some sleep when she in turn was giving her parents a break—they’d flown out from Finland to help out and Eloise had been plied with more Finnish food than she ever could have imagined.

Veera had sat and listened to everything Eloise had been holding in for months—it felt easier with Osmo on the floor between them, a buffer of cuteness and gurgles. She’d looked particularly bereft when Eloise talked about the flight home from Finland and the hassle it had been, and laughed only a little when Eloise recounted having to prevent Levi from booking his own flight to Tampere when he was supposed to be picking her up from the airport.

Eloise was never around when Esa had the boys over. Whether that was by design or a coincidence Eloise wasn’t certain.

Her song writing had slowed down after the entire new album worth of content she gave to Skye, and, despite how often she was sitting down to write, Eloise wasn’t able to conjure up anything new. Her inspiration had well and truly run dry. It was getting depressing, really.

It was late in the evening, Eloise was stretched out on her bed, music playing loudly over the speakers she had set up in her room. It wasn’t up as loud as it could go, just a chilled-out vibe for her to relax to as she rested her eyes. Sleep would soon come, she was sure, but she had the right playlist set up to settle her properly.

Of course, that was ruined when her phone rang, cutting through the music playing. If that wasn’t enough, any calm she was hoping to maintain was shattered when she read who was calling.

Roope Hintz.

“Hello?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to rush into anything if it was Esa or Veera calling from his phone.

It wasn’t, though, because when his voice came through with, “Hei, kulta,” Eloise’s breath caught in her throat.

She didn’t say anything at first, just hoped he could hear her breathing so he knew she hadn’t ended the call; she could hear him breathing at least and he was patient enough to wait for her.

“You’re the last person I was expecting a call from,” Eloise said quietly once she’d got her bearings. She kept her eyes closed and was picturing him calling from his room—though he may well have been in a hotel room anywhere in the country.

“It’s long overdue,” Roope admitted, readily. “I should have called you as soon you left.”

“Maybe.” Then, bravely, she said, “I don’t think you should have let me leave at all.”

Roope sighed, and she sighed, too, but he did say, “No. I shouldn’t have.”

All she had wanted to hear, for months, was an admission—it had been something from Veera, but the silence from Roope had been what was hurting the most. She’d never been able to get past the idea that he wouldn’t ever forgive her.

“Why did you call, Roope?” she asked, desperate to move the conversation on.

“Thank you for helping Veera.”

She sighed, “That’s not worth a phone call after all this time.”

“If you don’t hate me…” he said slowly, tentatively. “Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you a few explanations. A few apologies.”

What was throwing her the most was that he sounded decidedly less Finnish than she remembered—probably a combination of the fact that the last time she had seen him they had been in Finland and he’d spend far too much time in the US—but it made her feel like she’d missed so much time.

“I probably owe you some, too,” Eloise admitted. “And I don’t hate you. At no point did I hate you, Roope. I thought you hated me.”

“Kulta, I never hated you. I promise. Let me make it up to you.”

~i could spend my whole life getting over you~

Eloise had hesitated when Roope said that he would pick her up for their date. It felt like too much too soon to be in the car with him, and then end up somewhere she had to rely on him to get her home from if things got horrifically awkward. And there was every possibility that it would get horrifically awkward.

Still, she agreed to be picked up because Roope insisted on their date being a surprise and Eloise was lost in the memory of their very first date and how he’d been just as secretive. She got a similar warning to be dressed up to be outside and it was enough to make her pretty certain they were going back to watch the planes at Dallas Love Field, though she never did ask him to confirm.

She saw the same Porsche Cayenne pull up out the front of her house, this time from her living room window. Despite how calm she had been all day—having managed to keep herself sufficiently distracted doing all the cleaning she’d been putting off—seeing Roope get out of his car and walk up the path to her front door had her heart beating at record speed.

Eloise couldn’t even wait for him to ring the doorbell; she was rushing to the door to try and work off the nervous energy. The short distance didn’t make much of a difference.

“Hei, kulta,” Roope smiled, being kind enough not to mention how she’d been waiting for him. “Are you ready?”

She nodded, clutching her purse to her chest nervously. She shook a little as she locked the door behind her and stopped breathing all together when Roope’s hand rested naturally on her lower back on the short walk to the car.

A protest died on her tongue when he walked opened the door for her because she saw the determined look on his face, focused and sure, and knew he was truthfully just as nervous as she.

The nervousness was definitely confirmed when they sat in the car, Eloise letting out nervous laughs every so often and Roope focusing on the road more than he ever had before. He made the decision at a red light to finally put on some music, at least filling the air, and every ounce of tension in his body left when Eloise started singing along. It calmed Eloise down to see his shoulders relax.

It didn’t take her long to work out that they were indeed heading towards Dallas Love Field and she couldn’t help but smile to herself—Roope was clearly determined to start over properly. There was even a picnic in the boot, though he’d packed it with foods more appropriate for dinner than muffins.

Her face hurt from how big and persistent her smile was getting, knowing how hard he was trying.

“Have you been in any more expensive cars?” Roope asked when they were sat on a bench overlooking the runway.

“No, and that’s still the most expensive car I’ve ever driven,” she assured him, a laugh in her voice. “You’re the only one stupid enough to let me do that.”

“Good.”

Only a couple of planes landed while they ate, but Roope had all the information he could get prepared for her. Eloise didn’t care which flights were coming in, but she was delighted to hear him tell her about them. She was able to ignore the conversation she knew they needed to have if he kept telling her.

“We have to talk about it,” Eloise did say after they’d eaten, her smile shifting and her body aching. “Because that was the worst thing that has ever happened to me, Roope.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice low. “I didn’t know what to do and I know now that we should have spoken about it and I should have trusted you. Veera and Esa—and this isn’t an excuse, I’m just trying to explain—were the first people to really help me out when I got to Dallas. They’re my family, you know? They’ve always come first.”

“And I’d been around for less than a year and was ruining their lives, even if I didn’t mean to,” Eloise filled in the blanks. She kicked up some dirt as she shifted her feet, her attention fixated firmly on the little cloud she’d created.

Roope sighed, tentatively putting his hand on Eloise’s shoulder. Even though she didn’t look at him, he said, “Veera was right about every other girlfriend I had before you. I really didn’t think she could be wrong about you and then you were gone.”

When she did look at hm, after it was clear he wasn’t going to be adding anything else to him, there was a definite sorrow on his face with his eyes and mouth pulled down.

“I get that they’re your family and that you trust them,” she whispered, maintaining eye contact as best she could manage. “That’s fine, Roope, but you should have trusted me, too. I didn’t give you any reason to not and you still let me—made me—leave.”

“I am so sorry, kulta. So, so sorry.”

Eloise nodded, unable to bring herself to say anything else. Roope’s hand moved from her shoulder to her upper back and she fell slowly into a hug that held all the warmth and security she’d been missing. The kiss he dropped to her head only made her feel that much surer that accepting the date had been the right idea.

“How long are you going to spend in Finland this summer?” Eloise asked quietly while they were packing up. She knew that the season didn’t have all that long left—a month, maybe more if they made playoffs. That’s what she’d learnt from Veera and Esa, even if neither of them had been talking about hockey to her as much as just in her presence.

Roope wasn’t taken aback by the question, he just sat up only a tiny bit straighter to answer, “I’ll leave when the season’s over and probably won’t be back until September. Like usual.”

“If we’re… If we’re doing this, and getting back together, then what does that mean for us, do you think?”

“Is it too much to ask you to come visit?”

“I think it might be.”

“Okay,” he nodded as he thought. “I won’t spend as long there. I’ll come back to you.”

~’cause you have the same effect as the first day we met~

Eloise wasn’t one for big birthdays—she was so opposed to them that she’d managed to avoid a Sweet Sixteenth and a 21st despite her mother acting like Eloise was ruining her life by not having them.

It made sense to her to order a fancy cook-at-home meal from her favourite restaurant and invite Roope over to cook it with her. She was only turning twenty-four, anyway, that wasn’t anything special.

Even though it wasn’t special, she and Roope had agreed to get dressed up and make it a tiny bit special. Roope was wearing one of his suits when he walked through her front door, and Eloise had put on a dress she’d worn as a guest to the MTV VMAs the year prior.

“Kulta,” he said breathlessly the moment he saw her. “You look incredible.”

He reached out his hand, turning her in front of him when she took it and looking awestruck as she moved. He reeled her in, wrapping his arm around her and settling into a mind-melting kiss that had Eloise scrambling to wrap her arounds around his neck and pull him closer.

It didn’t escape her that he was only holding her with one arm, and when they pulled apart she chased his other hand to see what he was carrying only for him to turn his back to her and hold the item to his chest. He shut the front door and made a big show of hiding the object as he moved them further into the house.

“What do you have?” she asked, trying and failing to lean around him.

“So, catching fireflies is way harder than I ever thought it would be,” Roope said dramatically, “but I do want you to be the only girl I love all my life.”

His words didn’t immediately register to Eloise, beyond them being disgustingly romantic, because she was focused on the mason jar of fairy lights, he was presenting to her. She took it from him, smiling despite her confusion, and watched as his smile faltered.

Then it hit her.

She’d written him a song.

~you are in love, true love~

#roope hintz imagine #roope hintz fic #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #fic: stars

187 notes · View notes

nescaveckwriter · 4 months

Text

Paintbrushes And Romance 🥰🐞 - Part 14

Dean x Fem/Reader

Part 14🥰🐞

A/N: This might be triggering for people suffering from PTSD!💓 Side Note: thank you all so much for the support. Much love, my bugsies 🥰🐞

Warnings: hospital scenes, trigger warnings, sadness, violence, swearing, PTSD triggers, suicidal tendencies, drug use,🥹

......

The tear stained note, was short, when Cas read it, "Sorry Mom, I need some space, will call I promise, Love you" , shaking his head in disbelief.

In a soft low voice, Cas told Dean he could enter the house.

The broken ceramic pieces still scattered all over the open plan kitchen, Dean searching for her, the look in his eyes took Cas by surprise, it was filled with hurt, fear, sadness and guilt. He just handed Dean the note, he expected his best friend to have one if his outbursts of anger, but instead, all Dean did was crumble up the note, looked at him with bloodshot eyes, saying, I've lost her again Cas, his voice was low, barely audible but shaking.

Of course he tried explaining to best of his knowledge, that she didn't really mean to say all those things, it was merely because she was suffering from depression and the trauma but of course his friend didn't really believe a single word he spoke.

Eversince that day, he would check on Dean occasionally, finding out how he has been doing, he'll always get the same answer, just fine, never been better.

One night about 2 months since she left, he went by Dean's house, he just had a feeling he should check on him, walking up to the door, he could see the image of the once strong man, sitting at the table, bottle of whiskey, nearly finished, what looked like photos scattered out in front of him, the chain with the diamond ring in his one hand, but what really scared him was the gun in Dean's right hand, he didn't knock, he just barched in, making Dean look up from where he sat.

Not a single word was uttered at that moment, He just took the weapon out of Dean's grip, tossed it to the side away from them, begging him to talk to him. The only words that ran over his whiskey lips, was that he was tired, he misses her, and he tried searching for her, but she withdrew all her money at a gas station two towns over, and well as for her phone, she threw it in the closest trash can, she only called back home about three times from a damn payphone, Caroline said when they spoke her words seemed few and sort of slurred. I reviewed the cameras man, you should've seen her, his eyes filled with sadness, the body he came to know like the back of his hand was now only skin and bones, she seemed high Cas! Like she's using, she's doing drugs because of me.

Dean stood up, running his hands over his face. I did this Cas. If only I caught the bastard sooner. That night was the breaking point for Dean, and if he didn't show up, Sam would've lost a brother and their parents a son.

He explained to Dean that what very few people knew, is that its not just the trauma victim, but their loved ones that also get affected by it. He didn't leave his sight that night, promising Dean that he is there for him every step of the way and that they will get through this.

Its been almost a year now, and Dean has gotten better, he has healthier coping mechanisms for the dark days, and when those doesn't seem to work like it should, he throws himself into work, and taking care of Bobby, making sure he gets to physical therapy. Of course every know and then he sees Dean subconsciously play with the chain around his neck, still keeping his eyes and ears open for a clue of where she might be, hoping she'll just show up one day, and say she's sorry, and he knows for a fact Dean will take her back in a heartbeat. He knows that it isn't either of their faults that this messed them up so badly but, it still breaks his heart that all of this happened to two of the most generous, loving people he knows.

...

Its been three months since she left, the images replaying over and over. What am I even searching for, what was even the real reason why I left, fumbling in her handbag for some of the painkillers she bought by some sketchy looking dude at the corner, the only way of making the images of every damn thing disappear is by getting high, is it wrong? Hell yeah I know it is wrong. But really do I even care anymore.

More coffee comes a deep voice, looking up you can tell the man had gone through hardships in life but the smile on his face met his eyes. Yeah, thanks you said, your voice doesn't sound the same anymore, its gotten slower and well it sounded like you had given up on life. He just nodded and refilled your cup. Something to eat, the voice came out a little sweeter than before.

No thanks, you didn't really felt like eating, everything made you nauseous. How did I get to this point, a junkie who can't wait for her next fix, who's living out of her car, driving from one town to the next. Maybe it was a wrong decision to drive off that day, thinking back to the first time you felt high, you were about to towns over, tired off driving and crying, and in all honesty the pain in your leg was driving you crazy, busy searching through your bag, seeing the antidepressants and opioids the doctor and your psychologist gave you, with clear instructions on how to take them, you just took some, washing it down with an energy drink you bought at the fill up station. And that combination felt amazing.

For the first time the images in your mind weren't so scary, and you felt good, real good. Early morning came and the effects wore off, you made a promise to yourself that you won't do again. After you freshened up you might've took some more, for the pain of course, just saying that to make yourself feel better, that day was also the last time you spoke to your mom, just stating your okay and she shouldn't worry and you loved her. You could tell she was concerned and crying on the end of the line. But there was nothing you could say to make her feel better. If there was you would've tried it yourself. You just hang up the payphone, throwing your cellphone in a trashcan close by, you knew Dean had the resources to trace your phone, and you weren't ready to be found.

Over these past few weeks the using got more, wanting to feel the effects for longer, you started popping pills more than once a day, and before you knew it, the pill bottles were empty, and it ain't exactly over the counter drugs, so you drove around searching for someone who sold them, at first you were scared but know your just desperate. Taking any pills you can get that will do the trick.

The guy who sold this last batch to you, told you to take one, and it will make you feel good, and at first you did, but that didn't just quite cut it, so you took another two, swallowing it down with your black coffee.

After a while you started to feel Nauseous, walking as fast as you can to the bathroom, not really seeing how the man from the diner that refilled your coffee were watching you, after closing the door behind you, you could tell something wasn't right, everything started to look it was swimming before your eyes, you felt like you were burning up, sweat coming from your forehead, your legs felt weak and just gave in underneath you, you felt your head hitting against the basin and then the floor, your body started to shake violently and then it all went dark...

#spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #benny lafitte #castiel spn #dean winchester imagine #eileen leahy

15 notes · View notes

thewordswewrite · 2 years

Text

Lonely Is Our Lives

Chapter 1 - Wild Side

Pairing | Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

!!VERY IMPORTANT A/N!! | I want to preface this by saying I DO NOT condone Billy’s actions throughout the series. I DO NOT condone his violence or abuse, ESPECIALLY against Lucas but also including Max and the others. At the time season two came out in 2017, nearly FIVE years ago at the time I'm writing this, I was very angry and frustrated at the world, resentful of a younger sibling, and disconnected from the people around me so I kind of latched onto Billy as a character and what he represented. I absolutely DID NOT understand what his actions against Lucas truly meant and I DID NOT register it as the racism it was. Knowing what I know now I've decided to write a fic where Billy is able to let go of some of his anger and have someone there to check him and his actions in order to set him on a better path. I wrote this for me as a bit of a redemption fic for both of us.

Playlist | Link | Chapter One: Songs 1-4

Summary | One fateful 1983 night you narrowly escape death on Steve Harrington’s property while Barbara Holland is presumed dead. Left jaded and angry, you carry on towards your senior year in a haze of sex, drugs, and alcohol just to get through the day. But, when Billy Hargrove moves to Hawkins, Indiana during the fall of 1984 things get worse before they get better.

Warnings | explicit language, angst, abusive parents, smut 18+ minors DNI, heavy drug and alcohol usage

W/C | 3.3k

A/N | I 100% understand if Billy is not a character for you and you hate him but I’m finally in a place in my life where I feel like I can write him as someone other than an angry, abusive asshole. This isn’t all sentiment tho cause Dacre Montgomery is a gorgeous human being and I did immediately think he was unnecessarily attractive. He doesn't end up perfect but he’s not horrible. -Smoe

Beer and sweat overwhelmed you as you stepped into Tina’s house. The place was a blur of half-assed Halloween costumes and booming music. Immediately, you felt your face twisting into a grimace; parties like this weren’t really your scene, not anymore. Last year, though? You’d be eating this shit up. And it wasn't because of the drugs, or the alcohol, or the sex because you still partook, heavily and often. No, it was because you could genuinely say you hated the majority of Hawkins High’s population; nothing they cared about felt like it mattered anymore.

You hadn't meant to see what you did but being in the wrong place at the wrong time can screw over anyone. All you’d done was go to one stupid party at Steve Harrington’s house and decided to sit with Barbara Holland when she slit her hand open trying to shotgun a beer. At the time. you thought her mildly pathetic and increasingly awkward as the space between Steve and her ‘best friend’ got smaller. Now all you could muster was regret.

You tried. You really, really tried, but one slash of that…thing’s claws and you couldn't hold onto her. Your arms ached and blood gushed from where it had dug into your flesh, through muscle, and close to bone. Barb was dead and you were bleeding out next to Steve Harrington’s pool as he and Nancy Wheeler had sex inside. The only reason you’d survived was that you finally screamed loud enough for one of them to hear and call an ambulance. You were in the hospital for almost two weeks before you could go home and now, almost a year later, you were left with five jagged scars stretching about an inch from your jugular, down your shoulder, and onto your chest. The official story was a bear attack. What a fucking joke.

Since then, you’d gotten close to Steve and Nancy which was the entire reason you’d come tonight. Steve had wanted to ‘pretend like we’re stupid teenagers’ and you’d decided to play along. So here you were dressed as Sarah Conner from The Terminator, drinking stale beer and third-wheeling for the happy couple. Nancy was already going hard, cup after cup but Steve managed to wrangle her over to stand with you where you were chainsmoking by the window.

“You having fun there, Nance?” You asked with a chuckle.

“So much!” She smiled but her eyes were sad, a look the both of you had mastered well.

Steve smiled, oblivious, and kissed her. He then looked over to you and raised his eyebrows, finally remembering you were there and passed you a beer. “How-uh, how bout’ you? Talk to anyone yet?” He asked, searching your face with concern.

“Getting around to it. Just gonna finish this and I'll be out there!” You gestured at him with the beer and smiled sarcastically.

“You said you’d try,” Steve deflated. “I’m trying, Nancy’s trying. Why can’t you?”

“Yeah,” Your laugh was hollow as you took a drag of your cigarette. “She’s trying real hard.” Steve opened his mouth to argue but looked over at his girlfriend staring off at the bustle of people and frowned.

A boy clad in leather and a mullet caught your eye as he pushed his way through the crowd, but his eyes weren’t on you, they were on Steve. Tommy H trailed behind him and wrapped his arm around The Terminator’s shoulder. The two of them stopped in front of your group and stared down Steve.

Tommy clapped the new kid on the back and smiled. “We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington!”

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“Eat it, Harrington!”

You watched as Nancy rolled her eyes and walked off, leaving Steve to gape at the offenders before locking eyes with you. “I’ll be back, or…just find us if you feel like it.” With that, he went after her and left you alone. The taller boy scoffed and looked away, shaking his head.

“So! Looks like we match, Keg King,” You smiled sarcastically and blew your eyes wide. The boy looked back at you with disinterest and mild anger as he smoked but his eyes gave you a once over and his body language began to shift.

“This here is Billy,” Tommy smiled and introduced you. Billy, seemingly perturbed by Tommy’s hand still latched onto his shoulder, shook him off.

“Billy…?” You lead on, sipping your beer.

Billy’s face broke out in a grin and he flicked his tongue out to wet his lips. “Hargrove. Billy Hargrove, sweetheart,” His mood took a complete 180° and yours only grew worse.

“You dethroned ol’ Stevie, huh?” Your voice was bored and you leaned on the wall behind you as you finished off your cigarette, soaking in the last fleeting scent of clove that cut through the musk of the room. Billy angled his body towards Tommy and with a jerk of his head sent him on his way, his stare never straying from you.

“Guilty,” He was still smiling as he stuck a Marlboro Red between his lips and lit it with his zippo. You returned his smile ruefully and couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his arrogance. As if being Keg King fucking mattered. Charm was rolling off this kid in waves and you couldn't help but feel suffocated. “So, did you come here with a Terminator or just Risky Business?”

You plucked the cigarette from his lips and put it between your own, “No Arnold to come and whisk me onto the dancefloor. As for Risky Business? Well, it seems they’re a bit occupied at the moment.” You couldn’t blame Steve and Nancy for your shitty night, not really, but you were still left out to dry no matter how much Steve had tried to assure you you wouldn't be. Hell, Nancy had even admitted to you that she didn’t want to be there but was doing it for Steve and you still managed to be pushed aside.

“This King Steve I’ve been hearing so much about doesn’t seem to live up to his reputation,” Billy leaned closer, invading your space as you smoked his cigarette. His forearm rested on the wall next to your head, his face mere inches from yours.

You took advantage of the proximity and exhaled your drag into his face. “Well, you seem to be living up to yours,” His eyes fluttered closed as the smoke ghosted across his face.

When he opened them again, you were greeted by those baby blues you were sure others had fallen over themselves for. “Which is?” You quickly searched his eyes, finding nothing you hadn’t seen before. Adrenaline, lust, rage: nothing special. Yet somehow you’re still disappointed as if he could've been different. The same. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught your friends storming through the crowd.

With a small sigh, you push off the wall Billy had you nearly boxed against, forcing him back. “Well, as fun as it's been, King Billy,” You paused, finally breaking eye contact to look around the room. “I must be off. You understand, right? Responsibilities and all.” You gestured in the direction of Steve and a very drunk Nancy, arguing by the punch bowl as you lazily walked away.

You approached them, watching as Steve tried to pull a cup of punch from Nancy’s hands. Before you could even open your mouth to speak, the cup went flying and Nancy’s pristine white outfit was covered in stark red.

You grabbed Nancy as she stumbled back. “Woah, hey, Nance, let's go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up, yeah?” You lead her to the bathroom, Steve trailing behind you with his head hung low. Once you got inside, Nancy wet a hand towel and started a futile effort to remove the stain.

“Nance, I'm sorry,” Steve tried, running a hand through his hair.

You continued to watch in pity as Nancy failed to remove the punch from her shirt. “That’s not coming off, Nance.” You tried to take the towel from her but she pulled away roughly.

“It’s coming,” She grunted. In the year you’d known them you had never seen Nancy get even close to drunk so her volatile mood surprised you.

Steve sighed clearly put out. “Come on. Let us take you home, okay? Come here,” Nancy struggled against his hold. “Let me take you home.” You rolled your eyes at his lovesick tone.

“You want-, you wanted this,” She slurred, eyes droopy as they looked up at Steve.

“No, I didn’t want this. I told you to stop drinking.” Steve’s voice was trying to keep the conversation light but the mood stayed heavy. The three of you bickered often but never had it felt so serious.

“It's… bullshit. Bullshit.” Nancy looked sullen and your rigid stance softened at her doe-eyed stare.

“It's not bullshit, Nance,” You tried rubbing her arm but she slapped you off. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you felt your face begin to heat in anger.

“Bullshit!”

Steve shook his head, “No, It's not bullshit, Nancy.”

“No, you. You’re bullshit! Both of you.” She pointed between the two of you with a shaky hand.

You could see Steve’s heart crack just as his voice did. “W-What?”

But you were livid. “What the hell, Nancy.”

Her eyes were empty, looking at her boyfriend. “You’re pretending like everything’s okay. You know, like we didn't…like we didn't kill Barb,” Nancy’s voice broke and she turned her attention to you. “And you were only there to get drunk and fuck! You almost died and you still haven’t changed at all.”

You’d changed. You’d changed more than either of them had even tried. Before, nothing really mattered to you; people were meant to be sucked dry of their worth and thrown aside at your desire before you didn’t care. You had worked and actively tried to be better. If not for yourself then at least for Barb. Because that’s what she deserved: better.

You leaned over and trapped her against the sink. “I get that she was your friend and you’re drunk,” Your eyes narrowed at her, “But you’re dancing on a fine line right now Wheeler.”

Steve shoved you off of Nancy and regained his spot in front of her. “Everything can be okay, Nancy.”

She laughed and looked away. “Yeah, like, it's great. Like we’re in love and we’re-, we’re partying,” Her voice began to soften and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “Yeah, let’s party, huh? Party. We’re partying. This is bullshit.”

“‘Like we’re in love’?” Steve’s voice was barely above a whisper as he took Nancy’s face in his hands. The sight was stomach-turning even for you.

“It’s bullshit.”

“You don’t love me?”

“It’s bullshit,” Nancy reaffirmed.

Steve’s eyes steeled and he pushed past you and Nancy. “Steve, wait-,” You tried but he didn't listen, leaving the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

Nancy turned back to the mirror and began scrubbing at her shirt again. “You go too. Go party. Have sex, do drugs. It’s all bullshit.”

You laughed, hard and fast. “Come tomorrow, Wheeler, you’ll be real sorry for this.”

Nearly shoulder-checking her, you followed Steve out the door. Your blood was hot with anger as you made your way back into the crowd and your eyes landed on Jonathan Byers talking to some goth chick. Good enough.

“Byers!” You shouted and he whipped towards you. “You’re here for Nancy, right?”

“I, uh,” He stuttered but you didn’t have the patience for that.

You rolled your eyes and held a hand up to silence him. “Yes or no?”

“Yes!”

“She’s in the bathroom drunk off her ass and dead set on ruining all her relationships tonight. Take her home.” You threw your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of the bathroom and stalked towards the punch bowl.

Fuck it. If she wanted you to party, you’d party.

“What’s in this?” You asked a toga-clad boy.

“Pure fuel! Pure! Fuel!” The boy screamed and you shrugged, satisfied.

Drink after drink you kept dipping your cup into the bowl until you felt your senses go fuzzy, your mood starting to turn. You felt a smile pull itself onto your face and you broke your way into the crowd searching for a distraction. For your Terminator. When you found him, he was holding another girl close, smoking in her face, and swaying to the music. Determinately, you tapped on the girl’s shoulder and leaned down to her level.

“Mind if I cut in?” The girl turned, at first in protest, but when her eyes locked with yours, her mouth snapped shut. She mustered a glare at you before walking off.

You laced your hands around Billy’s neck, almost challenging him to push you off. After a few moments, his hands found your hips and you leaned into them, letting him guide you to the thrum of the music. You let yourself succumb to the atmosphere and closed your eyes, leaning your head up towards the ceiling. Billy pulled you flush against him and you finally opened your eyes to find yourself once again staring into the crystal clear blue ocean of Billy Hargrove and you think, maybe you can see why people would fall over themselves for him.

His tongue flicked out over his lips, a habit you took notice of. “What made you change your mind, sweetheart?”

“It’s all bullshit anyway, isn't it?” Your breath coasted over his face in such proximity. “So, fuck it, let's party,” You didn’t give him time to respond before you were surging forward and clashing your lips together. Nothing about the kiss was soft, not your chapped lips or the scruff of his mustache; it was full of anger and need. His fingers were gripped in your hair and you were practically grinding in the middle of the packed room until you pulled away, both of you heaving in breaths.

He didn’t even utter a word when suddenly Billy was pulling you along through the crowd, weaving left and right around drunken teenagers and out of the house towards his Camaro. A flash of California caught your attention as you went around to the passenger side of the car. Filing that away for later, you climbed in the back seat as soon as it was open and met his lips with your own when both the doors were finally closed. His hands held your face as yours worked on undoing his belt, quickly loosening the buckle and moving on to unbutton his jeans.

“Help me with mine,” You panted.

You didn’t need to change. Sex and drugs were good.

He helped guide your jeans down as you shimmied your hips to get them over your ass and down your legs. He then moved to the hem of your shirt and panic flared in your chest before you stopped him.

“Don’t bother, we won't be here that long.”

Billy scoffed but dropped his hand. “You sound so sure.”

“I am,” You smiled at his annoyance and kissed along his jaw, swinging your leg over his hips, and settling on his lap. You rolled your body atop Billy’s to the beat of the bass inside and relished in the moan you coaxed out of him as you sucked a hickey into the soft skin of his neck, right over his pulse point. Billy’s fingers soon found themselves slipping past the elastic of your lacy underwear and down to your clit, where he moved them in tight circles, eliciting a surprised gasp from you. He kissed you soundly, tongue painting the inside of your mouth when he reached his fingers down even lower and into your awaiting entrance, drawing out a long broken moan from your lips.

“Billy, I need more,” You demanded.

Hastily, Billy removed his fingers from inside you and leaned forward, cradling the small of your back. Opening his dash, he pulled out a strip of condoms and tore one off. He freed himself from his jeans and rolled the condom on before shoving your underwear to the side and sinking you down onto him. The car filled with moans as you both moved in tandem, each selfishly chasing after your own orgasm. One of your hands was occupied rubbing frantic circles into your clit and the other was tangled into Billy’s curls holding his mouth against yours as you kissed. He moaned into your mouth before pulling his head away to look down at where the two of you met.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” His hands were kneading the flesh of your hips, holding you firmly and forcing you to move at the vicious speed he set. You felt the dull ache of where his fingers would definitely leave bruises but you couldn't find it in yourself to care when you had left at least three prominent hickeys higher on his neck than you knew he could conspicuously cover.

“Don’t stop, don't-, harder…please!” You moaned, too close for Billy to even think of slowing down. Spurred on by your cries, he complied, picking you up and plunging you down to meet his forceful thrusts, which grew harder with each passing second.

Your orgasm came quickly, thanks to your deft fingers and Billy’s pace, but he was cumming right along with you not long after, his hips snapping up into you and stuttering into a stop as his breath labored. The car was quiet other than the sound of your combined heaving and musty with the smell of sex. Your vision was hazy with pleasure when you lifted yourself off of him and pulled your underwear off to clean yourself up. You threw the dirtied lace at Billy’s chest and huffed at his confused stare.

“Keep 'em. I don't care.” Billy smirked and shoved them in the pocket of his jacket. You raised your eyebrows, not expecting the action.

“For later,” He explained. You’d thrown them at him more to try and crack at his fuck-all persona, not for him to actually take but you didn't mind. He wasn't the only guy in Hawkins with a pair of your underwear.

With practiced ease, you put your jeans back on and fixed your hair in the reflection of the window, only to find Billy staring at you, one hand behind his head and the other holding a lit cigarette. You stared at him, contemplating whether to take out your own cigarettes. After smoking most of them just trying to get through the night, you only had four left in the carton. It’s a party.

“Fuck it.” You pulled your pack from where it was kept safe in your bra and licked your lips, sticking one of them in your mouth and savoring the taste of clove. These were a treat. Billy leaned over and lit your cigarette with his own burning one.

“Thought King Steve had Wheeler and you wrapped around his dick,” Billy probed, adjusting himself to look at you.

“Steve doesn't even have Nancy wrapped around his dick,” Stretching across the seat you sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. “And definitely not me. It’s more of a…” You trailed off. Post-sex brain was ready to spill your life story but you were not on the same page. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Oh no, please,” He smirked. “Do tell.”

You shook your head and spun around, preparing to get out of the car. “It’s been nice California but we’ve still got school tomorrow and I'm not trying to be dead on my feet.” In a moment of rash thinking, you surged forward and captured his lips in a kiss, pulling away before he could reciprocate and give his cheek a few playful slaps.

You opened the car door and stepped out, “Let’s do this again sometime, yeah?” With a final tight smile, you slammed the door shut and strode off back into the house to find Steve to take you home.

136 notes · View notes