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#and yeah ok it's been. over a year since the breakup
sturncrazy · 3 months
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SPLASH
Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)
warnings: SMUT nsfw 18+(um lang, y/n receiving, unprotected, cream pie —assume ur on bc—-semi public/sneaky, nothing too crazy)
authors note: AW ITS KINDA CUTE GUYS. here’s the other matty poo idea i had since y’all seem to eat him up always hehe.
summary: you join some of your friends on a trip to get over a breakup and end up having a heart to heart talk during a late night swim with matt….but talkings not all you end up doing…
word count: 3,431w
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“hey y/n get your suit on! we’re gonna swim!” nick said, peering in through your half opened door.
“mkay” you nodded back, forcing a smile. it’d been a split second decision to force yourself to join your friends on this trip. Nick had suggested you come to try and get your mind off of things. you and your boyfriend had broken up only 2 weeks ago, after you found him cheating on you. it’d been a long time coming and had almost never been a good relationship, but a breakup is a breakup and you were still reeling from it. you pulled out a stringy bikini, then threw an oversized t shirt on top. the house you were staying at was large and out in the middle of nowhere. the pool was a significant distance behind the house which gave it a cool secluded feel during the day, but at night the walk alone was a little eerie. you fears washed away though as you got close enough to see your friends splashing around and their laughter became audible, only lit by the purple pools lights. it brought a smile to your face and you felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while. you and your friends hung around together for a couple hours, getting late into the night when chris decided he was hungry and needed a snack. the nearest convenience store was about 20 minutes away and would be closing soon so chris and the 3 of others decided to do a junk food run, leaving just you and matt. matt had been your friend since 7th grade, but the two of you hadn’t gotten to hang out as much in the last year cause he made your ex so nervous. he was always convinced you had feelings for matt. at one point he might’ve not been wrong, but you’d never tell a soul that.
“ok last chance guys! you want anything?” nick shouted as the others ran back towards the house.
“skittles!” said matt
“oo can you get me some twizzlers?”
“yup!” nick said running off
“think he listened?” matt said wading through the water to the edge where you were sitting, dangling your feet in.
“oh definitely not” you laughed
“you should come in the water! it’s really warm”
“but then when i get back out i’ll be cold” the outside air had dropped enough to feel the slightest of chill of fall.
“so? you can borrow my sweater if you want” said matt sweetly, always a gentleman
“come on! have some fun!” he teased splashing only enough to spray a few droplets on your thighs. you could never say no to him. you stood up and pulled your tshirt over your head. matt looked up at you, his mouth slightly ajar, before he quickly glanced away. you figured he’d zoned out. you cannonballed in, intentionally hitting matt with a wave of water.
“asshole” he laughed, splashing you as you came back up for air. you grinned at him and shook the wet hair out of your eyes and paddled to sit on the pools steps. matt joined and sat next to you. he leaned his arms against the the pools edge, the water only coming up to his mid stomach. you stole a glance at his toned torso and arms, tattoos glistening from the water. his eyes darted back to yours and he gave you a half smile.
“hey, you been okay? i didn’t wanna pry, but i head about the breakup” he said with concern
“oh…yeah. i’m okay i guess” you sighed
“he’s a real dick, y/n. i mean really. such an asshole. i wanted to kill him” you snorted
“you and me both” matt was on a roll in his rant and barely seemed to notice your comment
“i mean he has some fucking nerve treating you like that. you deserve like the best of the best and the fact that he didn’t didn’t see that—“
“aww matt” a warm fuzzy feeling spread over your skin at his words. he snapped back into remembering your presence and gave you a bashful look.
“i just think you deserve someone who treats you right. so good riddance to him” he said, splashing at an invisible presence off in the distance, trying to play cool. it was an adorably dorky move.
“thank you, matty” you said softly. he paused, and looked you intensely in the eyes.
“yeah always” he breathed out. the tension hung thickly in the night air. you turned your face away from his, hoping it would dissipate.
“and not that it matters, but i remember back in middle school when everyone was playing truth or dare, all the girls made fun of him for being a bad kisser” matt said, attempting to lighten the mood. it worked and you let out a laugh.
“yeah trust me, kissing wasn’t the only thing he was bad at”
“oooooo really” matt said grimacing. you nodded and dramatically shivered at the thought.
“yeah, honestly, don’t think there was a single time i wasn’t on top doing all the work. he’d sorta just lie there…like a corpse. and y’know…second he was done that was that. maybe 2 minutes each time.” matt’s jaw dropped
“whaaaat” you laughed as you glanced at your hands under the water, feeling nervous about talking about this with matt.
“that’s crazy. half the fun of sex watching the other person enjoy it” you felt your face flush as you raised your eyebrows at him
“what?” he chuckled back at your surprise
“nothing, i’ve just never heard you talk like that before” matt rolled his eyes playfully
“yeah well much to your surprise i have had sex before, y/n”
“well i know that…”
“just didn’t think i’d be good at it” he cut you off, teasingly. your face turned from flush to beat red, making you thankful for the dim lighting.
“hey, i wouldn’t be one to judge” you shrugged out, suddenly feeling painfully aware of your lack in experience.
“what do you mean?” matt questioned
“just…he was the only person i ever…y’know” you sheepishly avoided the words.
“had sex with?” matt filled in for you. you nodded and scrunched your face. he studied you for a minute.
“so you’ve never had good sex?” he asked, quietly. you felt so exposed you might as well have been naked.
“‘guess not” you mumbled avoiding is unwavering gaze.
“have to wait around for the next boy” you snickered to yourself
“isn’t that a bit of a gamble?”
“well what are my other options i mean youre the only guy i know who probably any good at sex—“ matt’s eyes widened. you slapped your hand over your mouth, panic beginning to settle in.
“oh my god—sorry—i—that came out wrong—i didn’t mean like you and me—like you need to show me—shit” matt just continued to look at you, his eyes burning holes into your skull. you buried your face in your pruning hands.
“well, why not” matt rasped out. you peaked through your fingers at him, his expression looked blank, but his chest rose rapidly, nervously. you dropped you hands.
“what” you almost whispered. he took a steadying breath.
“i said why not.” you tried to breath, but no air seemed to be available.
“what do you mean” matt gnawed at his lip before speaking again.
“i mean that you deserve to only feel amazing and i don’t want you to go around experimenting with more assholes and—“
“matt, i’m not gonna let you have pity sex with me” you scoffed out, embarrassment itching your whole body.
“that’s not what i meant y/n” he said in a hushed voice. you continued to babble over him.
“i mean i know you’re the nicest guy ever, but come on even you have to know you don’t have to fuck me to protect me from other bad guys—“
“i dont want you to fuck other guys at all” he sounded exasperated. you gave him a lost look. he exhaled, looking up at the sky for invisible answers.
“you don’t?” he looked back into your eyes, you felt like your heart could melt.
“of course not, y/n” your heart raced.
“okay” he furrowed his brow
“okay what?”
“okay yeah— i mean let’s—“ you inhaled, pulling yourself together and met his gazed
“i want you to show me” his chest rattled again.
“yeah?” he breathed out. you nodded, rapidly. he moved closer to you, your faces now inches apart. his eyes darted down to your lips. he smiled, and looked back up into yours, as one hand gently wrapped around your waist.
“okay” he rasped out as he brushed his nose against yours. he seemed to revel in the tension between you, before bringing his soft warm lips against yours. the kiss was passionate, but still delicate. it sent electricity through your chest and down to your fingertips. he brought his other hand up to your check and jaw, molding your faces together even more. matt pulledl his lips away from yours momentarily to whisper out
“you can touch me, y/n” you only then realized your arms had been cluelessly frozen by your sides. you eagerly brought them up around matt’s neck, immediately changing the tone of the kissing to something much more heated. he let out a sharp breath into your mouth before moving to come between your legs, both hands now grasping your waist. he pulled you closer and you wrapped your legs around his body, gripping into his hair. he let out a small groan against your lips and squeezed at your flesh in his hands. you sighed out at the feeling, opening your mouth against his which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. your mouths locked together perfectly, as your hands begin to move from his hair to explore his chest, your fingertips roaming the skin of his body you’d only ever dreamed of getting to touch. you lowered your nails to just beneath his bellybutton, which elicited a genuine moan from him. you smiled against his mouth
“where did you learn that” he grumbled
“i have have a couple tricks” you said coly
“oh yeah?” he said between soft quick kisses
“so do i” he bit down lightly on your bottom lip, pulling with his teeth as he brought your hips up against his. you whined feeling him press against your bikini bottoms. he chuckled at your pathetic reaction and pushed your hair back from your neck. he lowered his lips down to the sensitive newly exposed skin and began to sloppily kiss a trail from your jaw to your collarbone, then began sucking and biting at your flesh.
“fuck” you moaned out, your eyes rolling back. you grasped at his taught upper arms.
“you like that?” he groaned against your skin, setting it ablaze with vibrations.
“yes” you sighed out, bucking your hips slightly against his, desperate for more than just the grazing pressure of him standing against you. he seemed to understand your every need and hooked his fingers through the flimsy ties of your bikini and pulled you harshly against him. you felt a hardness in his shorts pressing against your core and your mouth practically watered. his hands trailed back up your body and to your back where your top tied together.
“this okay” you nodded and pulled him back in against your mouth, not wanting to waste a moment for words away from his lips. he expertly untied the knots and slipped the clinging wet fabric of your chest, leaving your boobs exposed to the outside air. he tossed the fabric on the ground behind you as he looked down at your heaving chest.
“god” he groaned out, his eyes widening as he brought his hands to your boobs and pawed at the the soft flesh. he ran his thumbs delicately across your nipples watching you, as you tossed your head back in a moan. he slipped his hands behind your back again, bringing your bare skin flush against his
“you’re so beautiful” he huffed against your lips. you began to rock yourself back and forth against his blatantly obvious hard on, desperate to build some friction. he wrapped one arm around your thigh and lifted you up to the top dry step of the pool, completely taking you out of the water except for your calves. matt lowered himself down to his knees a few steps bellow you, and began to kiss your knees and inner thighs. your legs quivered, as your core ached for attention. his wide blue eyes looked up at you, his mouth only inches away from where you needed him most, as his fingers hooked to the sides of your swimsuit.
“can i?” he mumbled against your skin.
“please” you whined out. he pulled at the loose bows, undoing the flimsy cover easily. you lifted your hips for him to slide the fabric from between your legs. he parted your legs with his hands, his pupils dilating to blackness as he took in the sight of you entirely exposed.
“so perfect” he sighed almost in a trance
“matt—“ you whined desperate and impatient. he looked back up at you with a half smile
“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna make you feel so good” his words alone could’ve made you come undone. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he brought his warm wet mouth against your aching clit. he gently kissed at the bundle of nerves, making you thrust your hips up against his face hungry for more. he responded by beginning to drag his tongue in painfully slow circles around your clit.
“oh god—matt-“ you cried out, your fingers latching into his hair for support. he groaned against your sensitive bud.
“y’taste so good” your thighs squeezed his face as he began to move his tongue faster, flicking it it circles around your clit.
“oh fuck— that feels so good—“ you exhaled. one of his arms loosed it’s grip
as he brought his fingertips down to meet your folds. he broke his tongue away from your clit and rested his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh as his watched his own fingers drag up and down your dripping folds. you whined in torture and he brought his pointer and middle finger to your entrance pressing small torturous pulses against it, but not entering or giving you the fullness you needed. you were a mess at his touch, whining, moaning, and thrashing around, but he seemed to savor every minute of watching you. finally, he slipped his finger into your core and you cried out at the feeling.
“so pretty” he whispered again before starting to pump his digits in and out of you over and over, his fingers curving up expertly. the tension in your stomach began to form almost immediately. matt needed no clues in knowing what you needed and lowered his tongue back to your clit. your walls began to pulse around his fingers. you knew you were close.
“oh god—matt-i—“ you began to stutter out
“good girl. cum for me” he cooed. you fell apart with his permission and came undone. your legs stuttered as your high began to end and matt slipped his fingers out of you. he lifted himself back up to your level, leaning against the ledge behind you and kissing you again.
“see how good you taste” he said against your lips
“matt” you giggled slightly shocked against him, starting to close your legs. his grip latched back down on your thighs, stopping you.
“oh i’m not done with you yet” he growled through a slight smile, as he hoisted you up into the air. your wrapped your legs around him, as he carried you away from the pool to a nearby lounge chair. he laid you down on your back and climbed on top of you, between your legs. he pressed his still covered crotch against your exposed vulnerable entrance. you hissed, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. he stopped and pulled back from you
“you okay?”
“yes just sensitive” you let out a breathy laugh
“do you want to stop” the overwhelming look of concern in his eyes was adorable
“are you kidding me?” you said, wrapping your legs around him tightly, bringing him back down on top of you.
“thank god” he exhaled. you laughed as you began to kiss him again, rolling your hips up against him. he whimpered. you dragged your fingernails up his back and dug in slightly at his shoulders. he groaned again. the sound of him wanting you was enough to make you desperate all over. you continued to run your fingernails down his chest and to his waistband, snapping the elastic against his skin slightly. his stomach tensing at the feeling.
“take these off, matty” you whined.
“whatever you want” he pulled off from you and stood to the side, sliding off the shorts.
his rock hard dick sprung out free from the fabric and slapped against his stomach. your jaw opened slightly as your eyes took in the impressive size of him in front of you.
“what?” he chuckled
“youre so big” you said in genuine awe
“fuck you don’t know what you’re doing to me” he said, climbing back on top of you and needily yanking your legs up around him. the tip of his hard member rubbed against your clit as he continued to grind his hips against yours through your makeout.
“matt—“ you whined again, needing more.
“you sure you want to do this?” he asked looking into your eyes.
“yes matt—i want you so bad” you moaned to him
“fuck i’m all yours, baby” he said kissing you again, as he began to align himself with your entrance. he pushed himself inside you slowly and shuddered against you once he was all the way deep into your core. he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the extreme stretch before beginning to slowly thrust in and out and in and out of your pussy. the stretch and fullness of him made you cry out sounds like you’d never made before.
“fuck you feel so good. such a perfect tight little pussy” he huffed out between his calculated thrusts.
“oh god matt”
“taking me so well baby” he cooed
“shitt-feel so good inside me, matty”
“yeah? you like when i fuck you like this, huh baby?” he breathed against your ear, burying his head into your neck.
“so fucking much—oh god yes—faster”
“okay beautiful” he began to pick up the pace of his steady thrusts and you thought you’d see stars. each thrust of his dick equally hard and timed out as he slammed against your g spot. you clawed at his back desperately, which only seemed to encourage him to pick up his pace to an impossibly faster speed. you slurred out curses in between pornographic moans as your mind became a total blur. you could feel your second orgasm approaching.
“OHHH FUCK MATT YES”
“fuck you sound so good moaning my name like that y/n”
“MATT OH GOD IM GONNA”
“you gonna cum for me again, baby?”
“YES OH MY FUCK”
“be a good girl and cum all over my dick” your eyes blurred with tears of pleasure as your ears buzzed and your second orgasm took control of your body. matt let out an uneven moan as your walls rapidly pulsed around his cock.
“fuck—squeezing me so good—shit—i’m close—“
“mmmm” was all you managed to moan in response as he began to trust into you wildly and unsteadyily
“oh my fuck baby i’m gonna cum”
“cum matt—i wanna feel you cum” you panted
“OHH MY OH FUCK FUCK IM GONNA CUM NGHH IM CUMMING” the groaned out as he halted his thrusts deep inside you, shooting hot white ropes of his release into your throbbing core. he collapsed breathless on top of you. after a moment matt pulled himself off your chest and propped himself up by his forearms.
“have any fun?” he asked sheepishly
“are you KIDDING ME? holy SHIT” you said in total honestly
“not half bad right?” he laughed, reaching for his shorts.
“unreal” he handed you his sweater and leaned back down to kiss you again, but pulled away abruptly
“sorry—was that weird? i don’t wanna make you feel pressured—“ you wrapped your arms around his neck shutting him up with another kiss
“good luck if you think your getting away from me now”
“i wouldn’t dream of it”
—————————————————————————live for sweet matt smut always 🫶
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babybluebex · 8 months
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bad idea, right? | joseph quinn x fem!reader
summary: yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? // aka your ex joseph conveniently texts you to come over just as you're missing him, and who can say no to those eyes? pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader tags: SMUT (minors dni), thigh riding, teasing, confessions of love, bareback (USE A CONDOM IRL PLEASE!!!), no ejaculation (it's ok, you'll see, just read it) author’s note: i am BACK with a new joe fic, i have been thinking about him NONSTOP ever since miss olivia dropped this song, and it's taken me forever to write this but here we are :) enjoy! follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post new fics!
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This was such a bad idea. No, it wasn’t a bad idea. It was the worst idea, one of the worst things you have maybe ever done. That bar wasn’t set too high, but the point remained. It was stupid and bad, and you just shouldn’t be doing it. And yet, here you are. 
You had been out drinking with your friends, ironically trying to get over Joseph. He was a good man— good enough, at least— and had been a relatively good boyfriend to you, but he was different than everyone else and was itching for more than you were, a family and a life and shit, and you had just wanted to have fun with him, so you had broken it off with him. The breakup had initially happened a few months ago, but your friends had never been able to drag you out of your flat and to a bar until then. There was nothing to mourn, you tried to tell them. We just wanted different things and split amicably, there’s no bad blood there that I need to drink to get over. 
Around 11 o’clock or so, your phone buzzed on the bar top, and you glanced down to see a text from a number that your phone didn’t recognize, but you knew all too well. I’m lonely, it said. Would you like to come over? 
Your friends were absorbed in their conversation, so you put down your vodka soda and typed out a reply. Joe, you know that’s a bad idea. 
I moved. Do you need my new address? 
You sighed. Yeah, I do. 
There was something about Joseph that you couldn’t place, but it made him irresistible. He was magnetic, he was charismatic, he was attractive and funny and kind, he was everything, but he just wasn’t what you wanted or needed for your relationship. He wanted kids; you didn’t. That was it. He was so irresistible, though, that there was no question about the fact that you would wreck your plans to see him. 
“Hey, I gotta go,” you told your friends, and they all booed and awed and asked what was going on. 
“Wait,” one of your friends started. “Are you going to see Joe?”
You scoffed, in a way that you hoped conveyed how crazy you thought that was. “No,” you said. “My social battery just ran out all of the sudden. Long day at work, and I’ve got another long one tomorrow and… You know how it is.” 
“Alright,” your friend said with a pout. “Be safe, alright? Let us know when you get home.” 
You agreed and, with a few hugs and kisses, you went on your way. Joseph had texted you his new address and you plugged it into your Uber app, and, the whole ride there, your leg was jiggling and you were nervous. It was just Joe, it wasn’t like you were going to meet some random guy you met online (although Joe had started out as some random Hinge match). You had dated him for two years, you knew him, so why were you nervous? 
He was grinning at you when you reached his place on the second floor, an easy sort of smile that you remembered loving. “Hi,” he said softly, reaching out for you, and you took his hands, smiling back at him. 
“Hey,” you said. “So, this is your new place, right?”
“Yeah,” Joseph said with a shrug. “It’s not much, but it’s alright.” 
You stepped inside and set down your bag next to the door, along with your jacket and shoes, and you examined the front room. The new flat was definitely smaller than the one you had shared together, the kitchen all smushed up next to the den, with the smallest hallway leading down to the bathroom and bedroom, and you settled on the couch easily. “I like it,” you said, your eyes going to his bookcase next to his television. A biography of Caracalla sat open, and you shook your head. “It’s cute. Very you.” 
“Thank you, love,” Joseph said. He sat down beside you and put his arm along the back of the couch behind you, and you inched a little closer to him. 
“Isn’t it a little… Silly?” you started, and you began to chew on your lip. 
“What is?” Joseph asked. 
“This dumb little dance we have to do,” you said. “Like we both don’t know why I’m here. We have to pretend, like, ‘Oh, I like your apartment’, ‘Oh, how have you been’, y’know?” 
“Well, we don’t have to pretend,” Joseph said. “We can just… Get started.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled. “But I don’t wanna, like, just come over and fuck and leave.”
“So…” Joseph started. “You want genuine small talk?”
You shrugged. “I guess,” you said. “How have you been?”
“Honestly,” Joseph started. “Pretty bad. I’m so used to coming home and having you here, I find myself so lonely and bored and… I don’t know. It’s been a few months, I thought I’d get over… Whatever this is.”
“That’s alright,” you said. “I’ve been missing you a lot too. I miss our old apartment… The bathtub was so nice and big.” 
“Yeah,” Joseph chuckled. “You remember when we took a bubble bath together and lit candles? That was nice.”
“Yeah,” you agreed wistfully. It went quiet then, both of you trying to avoid the obvious, and you finally sighed. “This is a bad idea, right?” 
“Probably,” Joseph said. You looked over at him to find him already looking at you with those damned chocolate puppy eyes, and you tilted your head a bit, your eyes lingering on his lips. That’s something that you missed about him; he was a damn good kisser. 
“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you said quickly, and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. His arm around your shoulders dragged you close to him, and he kissed you back, letting his lips mold against yours. You moaned softly, taking in the familiar taste of him, and you shuffled to sit across his lap. His hands went to their usual spots in the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing and kneading your ass as his tongue slipped inside your mouth, and you raked your fingers through his hair. You don’t remember him doing his hair across his forehead like this the last time you saw him, but maybe he did, but it really didn’t matter. He was hot as fuck, and he wanted you. 
“Fuck,” Joseph whispered as he broke the kiss. His focus went to your smooth neck, kissing and lightly sucking and making you moan again, and his hands drifted out of your back pockets and went to the front of your pants, popping the button open with ease. “Pretty girl…” he mumbled, and you giggled as he started to edge your pants down. The angle was awkward, definitely, and you shuffled to stand up and take down your pants. Joseph dipped down on the couch a little to pull off his sweatpants (grey, soft, the kind you once told him make his dick look good), and he discarded them to the side as you straddled one of his big thighs. This was always one of his favorite things, having you ride his thigh, and he looked gleeful when he realized that that’s what you were doing. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, and you smiled, flexing your hips down and starting to drag yourself along his hard thigh. 
“I remember you liked this,” you told him, and Joseph’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, letting his head fall back as you started up a rhythm, letting yourself glide along his leg. He mumbled and cursed, his big hands falling to your hips, but he didn’t control you; he was just holding you, feeling you, loving on you. 
“I do,” he mumbled. “God… Yes, sweet girl, just like that.” 
You whimpered as your clit brushed your stretched panties, and Joseph looked up, a sly smile on his lips. You loved when he watched you, and you made sure to move your body smoothly— all the better of a show for him. “Yeah,” he mumbled, biting his plush bottom lip. “That feel good?” 
You hummed out a positive sound, digging your fingernails into his shoulders through his jumper. “God, Joey,” you sighed, and you lilted your head to watch him as his eyelashes fluttered and he sighed with you. "Missed you."
"I missed this too," Joseph said. "Take off your panties, I wanna feel you."
You couldn't help but oblige him, and you lifted yourself from his leg and stripped off your modest underwear (you weren't exactly thinking ahead when you got dressed to go out, and you certainly weren't expecting Joe to text you). The feel of his warm skin on your pussy made your stomach swim with butterflies, and you put your hands on the back of his neck, just at where the curls ended. God, those curls. You pulled him into a kiss and moaned into his mouth, and you tugged on his curls to make him whine.
"Don't tease me, baby," he told you in a low voice, and you smiled and continued on your path, absolutely set on teasing him now. Your hips slowed, and you nestled your mouth right in the crook of his neck, setting soft kisses on his skin. "Oh, fuck, you're an evil woman, did you know that?"
"Yeah, well," you shrugged noncommittally, and Joe grabbed you around your waist and pulled you off of him. Roughly— rougher than usual?— he pushed you down onto the couch, and he settled himself on top of you, his thick thighs caging you in. You watched greedily as he righted himself and stripped off his jumper, exposing the little soft hairs on his chest; now, without the baggy jumper, you could fully see his hardening cock, rising to lay against his tummy.
"Like what you see?" Joe chuckled lightly, and you realized just how hard you had been staring at him.
"How could I not?" you asked. You reached out for his cock, taking his length in your hand, and you stroked him easily, base to tip, squeezing when you got closer to his balls— just the way he liked. He hissed in a sharp breath through his teeth as his eyes grew three times their size, and you smiled.
"Thought you'd've forgotten about that," Joe laughed breathlessly, and he edged back on the couch, aligning his hips with yours. Apparently, it seemed as if speed was the name of the game tonight, and it almost hurt your heart to think that he just wanted to hook up with you. You knew that coming to his place wouldn't end with a reconfession of love and for him begging for you to stay, but it stung to know that he was just trying to get you out as quickly as possible.
"I could never forget," you said, hoping that he could see through your words and see your teary eyes, hear your thick throat, feel your loss. You loved him, and the breakup hurt, but it was better being apart. But was it really?
"I wouldn't want you to," Joe told you, and he pursed his lips for a moment before he spit down onto your pussy. "You think I can ever forget you?"
You lined up the head of his cock with your hole, watching as he throbbed in your hand, and he sank his hips forward. The feel of the stretch had you gasping, and you moaned as he slid inside you, nestling perfectly. "Hey," Joe said firmly, and you looked up from the show to see him earnestly staring down at you, his eyes... Wet? Tearful? "You don't think I could ever forget you, do you?" he asked, and you bit the inside of your cheek.
"Not now, Joe," you mumbled.
"Yes, now," Joe insisted.
"You're inside me," you protested, and Joe gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly as he began to fuck you. The pleasure made your breath hitch, and Joe buried his face in your neck, kissing the slender column of your throat.
"We can talk and fuck at the same time," Joe said. "God knows we've done worse and fucked at the same time."
"But talk about this?" you asked. "Joey—"
"I can't sleep without you," he said softly. "Every time I wake up alone, my first thought is that you're using the toilet and that you'll be right back. I can hardly relax without your feet in your side... You really did take up the whole of the bed."
"Joe—" you started again, but he shook his head, his curls thwipping you in the face.
"And I can't eat," he continued. "I miss your cooking, and what's the point of eating anyway if you're not gonna steal bits of it off my plate?"
"Don't say that," you frowned. You were still acutely aware of his cock inside you, ebbing and flowing with the movement of your bodies, but, slowly, you came to realize exactly what this was. Maybe this was a reconfession of love. Maybe he would beg for you to stay. Maybe he was more than lonely tonight, and was just rushing the sex to get to the part where he asked you to come back to him. "That's not... Fair. I'm doing better without you."
"What a lie," Joe chuckled mirthlessly. "You're not wearing your favorite going-out dress, you're not even wearing mascara. You didn't want to leave the house tonight, but you did. Why?"
"My friends dragged me out," you said.
"Exactly," Joe said. "You'd rather stay home and rot in bed, because you're just as miserable without me as I am without you. Admit it, we were so good together, don't you want that again?"
"Joe," you started. "We broke up because you wanted kids, and I didn't. That's not something you can compromise on, that's not a conversation you can table for later. We broke up because we wanted different things, and that's okay."
"But I want you back," Joe said. "I need you back. Please, we can compromise on this. We can... Fuck, I don't know, we can get a cat. Or a puppy, or a lizard, or whatever the fuck it takes for you to come back to me."
Before you could say more, your phone buzzed in your purse on the floor just by your head, and you sighed as you reached for it, any distraction welcome. Your friend was texting you: Make it home ok?
Yeah, you answered quickly. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow xx.
"Joe," you started. "I... I only see you as a friend now. I don't think I can return to what we had."
"That's the biggest lie you've ever said," Joe told you. "If I was just a friend, would you have come over tonight?"
"Yes!" you said. "Because I'm a good friend! You said you were lonely, and I wanted to come help—"
"Oh, God, there was an undertone, and you know that," Joe cringed. "Don't act like you didn't know exactly what this was."
"Fuck," you mumbled. "Joe, I— Can we wait until we're done fucking?"
Joe sighed and, setting his jaw, angled his hips back and pulled out. He went in search of his clothes quietly, and you did the same, and, as you were zipping up your trousers, you said, "I guess I just don't... Don't see how we can have what we had. Not now, not knowing that we want our futures to be so different."
"We don't have to have what we had," Joe said. "We can have something completely new. We can make something entirely different, entirely our own, whatever we want. Please?"
You looked up from your jeans to see him looking at you. He had shaved his facial hair down to nothing, and you frowned to look at it. "I hate the way you do your hair now," you mumbled. "And I wish you'd grow your mustache back out."
Joe shrugged. "Maybe I will," he said. "If you want me to."
"I do," you said. "And we can get a cat, but you have to do the nasty shit, cleaning up after it and everything. We can... We can get back together, if you... If you promise you'll never leave me again."
Joe stepped towards you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, and he kissed the top of your head. "Never again, love."
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olive-fics · 20 days
Text
An Old friend.
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Synopsis: After not seeing Abby for nearly 5 years, she suddenly comes back into your life like it was nothing.
Men DNI, Mature readers only, reposts are especially welcomed!, Not proof read lol
SUPPORT PALESTINE WITH A CLICK. https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .     
The notification on your phone was just another blip in the background of your busy life. Work, deadlines, and the relentless march of time had pushed a lot of things into the recesses of your memory — including Abby Anderson.
The relentless flow of people outside in the streets and sidewalks caught your eye as you watched from above in your little cubical. . Lost in your thoughts, you were startled by another notification, this time from a friend, Ellie Williams.
You had met Ellie back in middle school, both of you were little nerds obsessed with savage starlight and music so you two instantly clicked.
"Wanna grab drinks after work? It'll be fun, pus it's a small break from work for you."
of course.
"Idk. . Who else is going? You bringing your 3rd girlfriend of the month with or something?"
"haha Y/N. Just us tonight, maybe we can find you a little girlfriend.."
"Ellie be so fr rn."
"ok ok. but just saying, If there's a hot lesbian there, I'm giving her your number."
"I swear to god.."
The post-Abby relationship had proven to be more challenging than you initially thought. Since the breakup and her abrupt move away, you hadn't gone into any other serious relationships. Sure, you engaged in casual conversations with a few people, but nothing seemed to progress beyond the talking stage.
Your friend Ellie was quite the opposite of you. Ellie is a party enthusiast, a self-proclaimed player, and a lesbian with unapologetic masculine energy. You never really understood how you two clicked.
Waiting for the clock at work to finally strike 5, signaling the end of the day, you finally get to go home. With a sigh, you scanned your closet, hoping to find something not so eye catching, you're just there for some drinks with Ellie. Plus.
You're probably going to be the one needing to carry her home later..
.
Throwing on a simple pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with a small work logo on it, you head out to the bar.
Ellie: "Y/N! Look at youuu! Finally out of the house.." Y/N:"Yeah yeahh.." Ellie:"Come- I already bought us a drink- then lets go dance."
You sighed, the corners of your lips turning up in a laugh as you joined Ellie.
.
Ellie: "So , Y/N. What's been happening in your mysterious world lately?"
Y/N: "Oh, you know, the usual. Work, school, a bit of Netflix.."
Ellie: "Of course.. So, anyone special in your life these days?"
Y/N: "Not really, just the usual talking stages. And you, Ellie? Still breaking hearts?"
Ellie: "Ah, you know me too well." .
The night had carried on, a blur of clinking glasses, casual conversations, and a soundtrack of questionable music.
Eventually, Ellie had to use the restroom, leaving you left by the drinks alone.
Feeling the effects of the drinks, you couldn't help but feel the buzz that had settled in. It had been a while since you let loose and allowed yourself to be carried away by the intoxicating combination of alcohol, and Ellie's horrible dad jokes.
As you searched through the crowd to find Ellie after noticing she disappeared that's when you heard it.
CLANK!
Before you could react you felt a rough hand grab yours and pull you up gently. Startled, you looked up to meet the gaze of the person who had inadvertently collided with you. Their eyes, filled with concern, met yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Why did she look so familiar..?
Suddenly snapping you out of your questioning they finally spoke.
"Are you okay?" they asked, their voice tinged with genuine worry.
Caught off guard you nodded, still processing the sudden turn of events. As you steadied yourself, you couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity that washed over you.
With a grateful smile, you huffed out a; "I'm fine, thank you. Just got a little lost in the crowd."
You then looked down at your shirt, it was stained red from the strawberry cocktail in her hands.
"Great.." you muttered under your breath, a mix of amusement and frustration.
"Let me buy you another drink to make up for it,"..
Caught in a moment of indecision, you looked up at the girl who had inadvertently stained your shirt.. Your thoughts shifted back to where you and Ellie had been seated for the night. You couldn't just leave Ellie, but the genuine offer of another drink lingered in the air, creating a little dilemma.
"Um, I appreciate the offer, really, but I'm actually here with a friend," you explained, trying to not seem rude.
The girl nodded understandingly, "No worries. I didn't mean to intrude on your night. If your friend is around, maybe we can all grab a drink together?"
You shrugged and nodded, why not?
She had noticed the stain worsening and quickly offered, "Could I at least help you wash that out? I'd hate to ruin your shirt completely..."
You looked down at the stain, and you couldn't deny it was pretty bad.
"Well, it's a unique fashion statement now, I guess,"
She laughed and gently took your hand. "Follow me."
You both went into the restrooms, you propped yourself on top of the sink. The girl then grabbed a Wad of paper towels and ran them under cold water to start blotting at your chest with them.
"Sorry again for the mess." she sighed and made eye contact with you, only to quickly look away.
Did she know something you didn't?..
.
Clearing your throat you looked down at her from the sink.
"It's really no worries.. It's an old shirt.."
"Still..You're all sticky now.."
"I think I've been through worse." You stifle a laugh and look away.
..
"So.. What's your name..?" She asked attempting to make small talk.
"Y/N."
"Right."
"Anyways..let me go buy you that drink."
"True."
You get off the counter and follow the girl back to the bar.
Eventually Ellie came back to her seat next to you.
"Oh? Y/N..Who's this? hmmmm?" She couldn't help but tease you.
"Oh please.. it's just a friend.."
"Right..Wait..what happened to your shirt?? I swear to god whoever did that to you I'll kick their ass-"
"It's okay.." You laughed and calmed Ellie's nerves.
"Accidents happen."
You look to the girl and laugh quietly. God you needed to go home.
..
"You seem on edge." Ellie called out as you two walked back to your apartment.
"Just..buzzed." You lied right to her. goodness.
"I know that's not all y/n."
"That girl was just.. really familiar. Did she seem that way to you too..?"
"Nope. You're just overthinking again."
"probably."
..
You made your way back to your apartment, eager to shed the stained shirt and uncomfortable jeans. As you undressed, something caught your attention in your pocket — a note with someone's number on it?
great.
Starting up a warm bath you add some bubbles and light a candle, you'll worry about the note later. You took off your bra and got into the bath tub scrolling on your phone to then look at the note sitting on your sink.
Fuck it.
"Hey, This the girl from the bar?" You wrote the text, you questioned if you even really wanted a reply.
Ping!
"hah! Yeah, it's me. wyd? :)"
"Taking a bath :p"
"Cute. Proof my love?"
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .     
ok Ik this sucks but maybe I'll make a part 2..if that's something you guy's would like idk!! :)
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deceitfuldevout · 5 months
Text
Struggle
Soft!Dark!Neil Lewis x BestFriend!Reader
Word Count: +1,857
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Misogynistic remarks, Manhandling, Play fighting gone wrong.
Author's Note(s): I was inspired by a soundgasm audio
You and Neil were childhood bestfriends. As thick as thieves. He had been there for you since day one. You grew up in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools, and eventually became co-owners of gumshoe movie store. Neil was always the one who wiped away your tears. He was your shoulder to cry on after a nasty breakup. One of the perks of living with your best friend are movie nights. You and Neil would pick out some movies to share.
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He knows you love them as much as he does. His was up first, then yours would be after. You would switch the order every weekend. Neil's choice was alright, it was one of those old western movies. You on the other hand picked something newer. One of those action movies with a powerhouse female lead. You thought it was going well. That is until Neil scoffs, you turn to the side and look at him, "What's wrong? You don't like it?"
"No it's just...do you really think she could take them all down in hand-to-hand combat?" out of everything the movie had, that was his biggest concern? Your brows furrow, "Are you saying you could take her on?" now sitting up. Neil tilts his head, "Well, I mean yeah? She's a twig, it'd be hard not to win," he's dead serious about it too. You don't take his remarks seriously. It's not like he meant it, right?
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That's when you felt the need to speak up, "Neil it's just a movie, and besides, size doesn't matter in a fight," when you turn your attention back to the screen Neil looks away, "Size doesn't matter?" he's taken aback. He pauses the movie, "Let me get this straight: You're confident that size doesn't matter?" he wants to test this hypothesis out, "Because I'm a lot stronger than you," it's not that Neil thinks he is, it's that he knows so, "I don't mean to sound insensitive but, there's also a biological factor,"
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You turn towards Neil and raise a brow, "You're that confident you'll win?" previously, you've won the last several fights against him. But then again, you were both nine years old. He nears, "I bet I could pin you down in less than ten seconds," he wants to test out that theory. So, You decide to test it out, getting into position, "Three...two...one-" but before you've had a chance to even find solid grounding, Neil already has you pinned to the couch.
It stuns you, for a moment you were left in disbelief. How did he? When did he? It was so fast you hadn't even seen it coming. You try lifting yourself up but Neil shoves you down with a light 'thud'. When you try to sit, he does it again, only harder. This was nothing to him. He didn't even seem tired. For a moment you question yourself. Had Neil been holding back the entire time? It was almost surprising how strong he was. "C'mon...fight back, I said fight back..." Neil hovers over you. Both of his legs now straddling your sides.
He manages to trap both your wrists together in one of his hands. You try to pulling them free but his grip is unbreakable. You've never noticed how strong he actually was. Sure, he'd let you sit on his shoulders during concerts, or even lift you up in a hug, but this was the first time you've really noticed his concentrated strength. It took little to no effort pinning you down. He leans in, now face-to-face, "Do you give up?" he taunts, "Just admit that I'm stronger than you...there's no use fighting it..."
You didn't want to lose that easily. You kept twisting and turning in an attempt to escape. It was futile. Neil had won fair and square. His hands began to roam under your shirt, playfully caressing your rib cage. He brushes his fingers against the bare skin. You couldn't help but giggle at the ticklish feeling, "O-ok ok! You win!" a burst of laughter erupts from you. After a moment, Neil finally stops. He takes in the sight of you, staring at the peaks forming on both breasts. He licks his lips, ducking his head down. He places a few kisses on your jawline, then down the side of your neck, all the way to your shoulder.
They quickly turn into wet kisses, then suckling. It felt ticklish. Neil had always been overly handsy around you. Even sharing a first kiss in grade school. His hands grip your hips in a tight grasp. You grab his wrists and start to pull, but it was like trying to move metal bars. His brows furrow, obviously annoyed now. He pulls both your arms above your head before tugging at your shirt. It didn't take much for him to drag it up. He knows you detest wearing a bra indoors. He doesn't mind that at all.
You gasp, "Neil! What the hell?! S-stop!" At that moment you did something you never thought would happen. Never in a million years would you have imagined putting your hands on him. You slap Neil across the face. His hair falls down to his forehead. There's a visible red mark on his cheek. His jaw clenches. For the first time ever, Neil Lewis is at a loss for words. You scramble to the other side of the couch, attempting to fix your disheveled clothes. You look back at your best friend in disbelief.
His pupils are blown with lust. His cheeks are a flushed pink as he darts his tongue out to lick his lips, "Let's make a bet, if you can break free, I'll let you go," he captures your ankle, pulling you across the couch towards him, "But if I manage to keep you pinned..." he cups your mound, digging his finger into the slit, "I get to tryout this pussy..." he's dead serious too.
You couldn't believe it. This isn't him. This isn't the same Neil who would comfort you after a nasty breakup. Or be the first one to wipe away those tears away whenever someone tried to hurt you. This wasn't just anyone saying it, this was your best friend. He may have a reputation of being a notorious prankster, but this was taking it too far. You start tearing up, "Neil, you're scaring me..."
He snickers, playfully swiping at your tears with his tongue, "C'mon, keep fighting," he shook your shoulders, "Fight back if you don't want it," his expression changes. It contorts into a snarl as he starts tugging at the fabric of your clothes. You try to fight him off. Neil grins with delight. This was all a game to him.
It was entertaining to Neil, watching your feeble attempt to stop him. He rubs his hard on against your mound, bucking his hips a few times with a moan, "Yeah keep struggling, no matter what you do...I'm bigger than you...stronger than you..." he juts his hips again, only harder this time, "Fuck you have no idea how much this is turning me on..." his voice is much deeper. There's just something about the thrill of it that turns him on. No matter how much you twist and turn, or how hard you try, it was nothing compared to his strength.
Neil may be on the leaner side but he could manage in a fight. His free hand reaches under the waistband of your panties. He lets out a gasp, "Oh fuck..." rubbing his digits up and down your slit to collect any slickness. He yanks down the fabric with ease, taking in the sight of your folds. Neil moans, "Already so wet, yet I haven't even touched you" he clicks his tongue, inspecting your now glistening folds. His eyelids are hooded as he examines the slickness sticking to his fingers, "My, my, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you wanted this..."
Neil lowers his head to your mound. He whispers, "Lemme just..." he flattens his tongue against your core. He gives a long stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, wrapping his lips around it with a moan, "Mmm..." his eyes are blissfully shut. His lashes flutter with pleasure as his brows furrow in delight. Fuck...you taste so good. Everything about you is so fucking perfect. Neil never saw a flaw in you. All those ex's were dumb as shit for dumping you. But no worries, he's here to make up for it.
His fingers slide in with little to no resistance. He began to pump them vigorously in and out your channel. Your toes began to curl from the angel he hit, throwing back your head in pleasure. Neil releases your clit for only a moment, "Fuck...you're enjoying me using you huh?" he teases, then returns to tasting you. He adds more pressure to that sweet, spongey spot inside.
You came, hard. A gush of arousal hits Neil's face as he sucks in your bud. He's having the time of his life, moaning through your climax. He parts, now licking his lips, "Who knew you were such a slut?" he chuckles. His cock twitches at the sight of your tuckered-out form. He's eager to finish what he's started.
Neil frantically unbuckles his belt. He lets his pants slide off, reaching into his boxers to pull out his semi-hard cock. He gives it a few tugs before aiming the leaking tip at your entrance. Neil had never been more desperate in his life to feel a woman. He's only ever imagined this moment while lying in bed late at night. But now? He's not going to waste another second. He buries his cock deep inside, muffling his moans into your shoulder, "M'yeah...just stay still and be my cocksleeve, yeah?" Neil thrusts his hips at a more rapid pace.
You could hear him choke out, "Fuck...fuck...fuck..fuck!" Neil was right. He is too strong. All you could do was lay there as he took what he wanted, staring blankly at the ceiling as he chases his high. He suckles and kisses against your skin to mark what was his. He sighs, "So good...so good for me..." he playfully licks against your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue. His hands held your head in place as he dips it inside.
After he's finishes inside Neil doesn't let you go, no. Instead he manhandles you onto his lap. You're still pierced by his cock. You could practically feel it still twitching inside. Neil catches his breath, he has an arm wrapped around your waist. He leans back against the sofa, pulling you in with him. He reaches for the remote to play the movie. Unbothered by what just happened. You're splayed across his chest with your shirt still on.
Every now and then Neil lazily juts his hips up just to feel you gripping him. He rubs small circles on your lower back, reaching down to squeeze your ass. He doesn't look away from the T.V., not even after he hears you sniffling. You choke out, "I-I hate you..." those words don't bother him. He knows you can get a little emotional and doesn't think too much of it. He places a kiss on your temple, "No you don't," he's sure of it.
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byers-bowlcut · 3 months
Text
I sometimes think about how one of the reasons theories about byler are considered "reaches" is because bylers like to be really loud about the details, and subtext, and many things that could be up to interpretation.
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I think the vast majority of us are queer and see the simple narrative- so the LITERAL STORY, aka what's right in our faces, as far too obvious that we don't even need to elaborate or emphasize on it. but see, we forget we're arguing with an audience who didn't realize will was gay and in love with mike until season 4 episode 8, or worse: until his actor had to go on an INTERVIEW and "clarify" it 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ as if it wasn't dead obvious years ago lol. many bylers are at the point where it's like- "ok yeah the basic story points to byler, boring, yawn we all know that... BUT DID YOU NOTICE THE COLOUR OF THEIR SHIRTS AND-" you get the gist lol.
Like it's still crazy to me how even the most obvious romantically charged moments and narrative devices used to build byler up go over other people's heads.
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I mean... a vow to go "crazy together"? a confession of mike saying that being friends with will was the BEST THING he ever did, which pulled will out of possession?? sleeping at will's bedside multiple times, and taking him home?? acting insanely weird after learning will painted something for a girl? All their fights being depicted or shot like romantic breakups/arguments?? Mike being able to say ily after he heard Will's veiled confession for him and thought those feelings were from El? (perfect plot device for byler endgame btw 💯). The one person who Mike can actually talk to and be vulnerable around being Will? Will bringing out mike's truest and best version of himself (very unlike the self destructive or insecure nature brought out in his current relationship)? The pairing whose relationship has been emphasized in the story since the literal FIRST ONE ON ONE INTERACTION in this whole damn show???
But yeah, this all really seems to go over the audience's heads. Because even with will being confirmed as in love with mike, it doesn't seem to be enough for the audience to recontextualize mike and will's past moments through a romantic lens... like damn. heteronormativity is really a drug huh
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joeybsversion · 4 months
Text
Pathetic
Joe Burrow x Reader
Joe and reader see each other again years later
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“Well thanks, Michelle! It was good to see you.” You smile and grab your bag from the older ladies hands. “I’m glad we caught up on the Athens, Ohio drama.” You laughed.
“Good to see you too. Don’t wait 5 years before you come back next time!” She called after you.
You were back in your home town, Athens, OH for the weekend dealing with a family dilemma. Athens was a small town, it really only had 2 main roads, both lines with gas stations, locally owned shops, and a few hotels. You grew up shopping at this same grocery store. Michelle had worked here since you were little and she recognized you the second you walked in. It was great to catch up with an old friend, but you were ready to escape this little town. You had stopped to grab a few things before heading to the hotel across the street for the night.
With another quick smile and wave, you pressed your back against the door to open it before it was quickly pulled away from you, causing you to lose your balance and almost fall backwards.
“Shit. Sorry!” Familiar hands reached up and helped steady you.
“Its ok.” You turned and were immediately frozen in shock. “Joe.” You gasped.
“What… oh my go—“ he nervously fiddled with his hands. “Hey.” He greeted you, clearly caught off guard. “What are you doing here?”
“Family stuff.” You nervously spit out. “What about you? Don’t you have practice or something?” You questioned.
“Bye week. Came home to support the local football team in play offs.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Are you staying at your parents?”
“No. Actually have a room at the hotel across the street.” You nodded your head in that direction. “I know it’s not the fanciest but it has a bed, and TV, and AC..” you nervously blabber. “Actually was just headed back to grab a drink and some dinner.”
Joe turned to look at the hotel before his eyes met yours again. “I’ll walk you over there.”
“Joe.” You laughed. “It’s literally 50 feet away. I’ll be fine.”
“I know… I just… would you… do you wanna catch up? Let me buy you a drink. It’s been what? 5 years since we’ve seen each other?” His eyes anxiously look around.
“Yeah sure.” You smile. “We probably have some catching up to do.”
You and Joe had dated for 4 years before you both left for colleges across the country from each other. He was now an NFL Quarterback and you were a wedding photographer. The breakup was messy, neither of you really got closure, and you hadn’t spoken since.
You followed Joe across the street and slid into the booth across from him. The room was dimly lit, the table sticky with booze, and the waitress was nosy. It was clear she recognized Joe, but he gave her one look after she dropped off your first round of drinks and made it clear she wouldn’t bother you both.
“So.” He cleared his throat. “How have you been? What’re you up to these days.”
You pressed your glass of wine to your lips and took a sip. “I’ve been good. Super busy. Started my own wedding photography business and basically spend all my time editing pictures.”
“Wow.” His eyes were wide. “Congratulations. I know that was always your dream.”
“Speaking of dreams, congrats to you Mr. Quarterback.” You teased.
He laughed and took a drink, shaking his head. “Yeah. It’s been a crazy ride.” A smile spread across his face. If there was one thing you still admired about Joe it was how humble he was. He’s graduated college less than a year ago and was already leading an NFL team to victory. “So, do you have a husband? Boyfriend?” He paused. “Girlfriend? Significant other?”
You laughed. “No, just me right now.” Your cheeks turned bright red. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Yeah.” He flashed the gold band on his ring finger. “Got married last year, just welcomed our first little one a few months ago.”
“Holy cow!” Your heart was crushed. “Congrats!” You faked a smiled and motioned to the waitress another round of drinks was needed. “Tell me about them!” You really didn’t want more details, but were just trying to be nice.
“My wife”, he flipped his phone around and his Lock Screen lit up, flashing a perfect picture of his beautiful wife and precious baby, “is truly superwomen. She’s taken on the roll of mom and NFL wife without an issue.” He smiled. “And baby Scarlett is just perfect.”
“You have a beautiful family.” You admitted. “Are they here with you?”
“No, just me. Hard to travel with a new born.” He looked at his phone again. “Actually if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go call them quick and say goodnight?” You nodded and he excused himself from the table.
You quickly finished your second glass of wine. Not sure if your face was hot from the alcohol or because you were holding back so many emotions. 5 years ago there was no doubt in your mind you would be Joes wife. But here you are, in a stuffy hotel bar single and talking about his newborn.
“Can I actually just buy a bottle?” You questioned as the waitress made her way around again. “And he’ll take another as well.” You motioned to Joes empty cup as she made her way back behind the bar to get your request.
Your face was buried in your phone as you googled Joe and his wife.
“Ordered me another I see.” Joe smirked as he sat back down across from you.
You quickly stashed your phone back in your purse. “I figured you’d be game for another round.” You laughed.
You and Joe spent the next few hours catching up, sharing drinks, and laughing about all of your old memories. The bar would be closing soon and you needed to get to bed, you had a long drive ahead of you tomorrow.
“I’ll walk you to your room.” Joe helped you from your seat, both of you stumbling and extremely tipsy.
“Thanks, Joe.” You slurred and took his hand.
You slipped your way into the elevator and up to the 7th floor before leading Joe down the hallway to your room. “Here it is.” You turned to him.
Joe grabs you around the waist, his hands shaking as though he might break you.
“Do you want to come in?” You whisper, your eyes locked on his.
He nods, his fingers still trembling and locked in your hips.
“You know I’m not going to break, right? I’m not as delicate as you think I am.” You giggle.
“I still feel like I’m going to break you.” His grip loosens even more. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Never in my wildest dreams did I think we’d be back here and-“
You place a finger to his lip, silencing him. “Kiss me.” You whisper.
Joe crashes your lips together. His hands hungrily tracing every inch of your body. He lifts you up and without hesitation you wrap your legs around his hips, falling onto him as he sits on the edge of the bed before laying back.
You spend the rest of the night tangled up with Joe, his lips attacking yours.
“You ever think about us?” Joe asks after your long night. Your both laying in bed as the sun peaks through the curtains.
“Of course I do.” You answer, your voice horse and your lips swollen. “I think a lot about how timing is everything. We had the love, we had the whole universe. We just weren’t ready for each other.”
You both look at each other. And just like back then, there is so much love in your eyes. And somehow, the timing is still not right. And it seems that’s how things will always be for you and Joe, your timing will always be a little off.
“I think you need to go.” You clear your throat and break the stare between you two.
“What do you mean?” Joe pulls you into him.
“This isn’t right. We both know that. I really think you need to go. You have a wife and a family Joe. This isn’t fair.”
“What’s not fair,” he says, rolling away from you and throwing the comforter off of his body, “is that your about of put your clothes on and force me to leave this room.” He stands from the bed. “And I don’t know why.”
You stare at him, eyes wide and nervous. “Joe.” You say softly. “This isn’t right. You have to go. You need to.”
He plants a kiss on your cheek. “I still believe we’ll get our second chance. Somehow, someway we’ll find each other again. It’s pathetic, really, how much I still hope it’s you and me in the end.”
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shitswiftiessay · 4 months
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“multiple posts in support of the lgbtq community”
her LGBTQ “activism” pretty much started and ended with the lover era. she released the musical equivalent of “it’s ok to be gay,” she waited until she was in a blue state on the eras tour to even barely address the anti trans legislation that was being passed in OTHER states (states she had just performed in where her speech would’ve made much more of an impact). and telling people to go vote without specifying who you’re voting for or bringing attention to the important issues is not activism. it’s merely a voting reminder. which is fine, but, y’know, it doesn’t make you an lgbt advocate. which she promised to be as she accepted an award for it.
and despite the fact that she’s reportedly “spending a lot more time” in fuckass missouri to be with travis, she’s yet to say anything about the anti lgbt legislation being passed in that state.
she also went off tumblr because people asked her to talk about BLM and swifties act like it was the cruelest thing in the world to expect of her 🙄 but she made a whole thing in her documentary about wanting to be on the “right side of history.”
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and taylor did the black square too so if you’re gonna attack joe for that 💀
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and she made some promises on twitter to be “loudly and ferociously anti-racist.” then she went on to date racist pos matty healy… and use ice spice as a shield. AND she also made sure that her publicist let everyone know that the “controversy” surrounding matty’s racism had NOTHING to do with her decision to split from him.
so… yeah.
these same miserable fucking swifties used to praise joe alwyn for speaking out against men abusing their power over women in hollywood but now their whole blogs are basically dedicated hate blogs to him. because he committed the crime of not marrying taylor so now they’ve decided he’s the worst man on the planet. 🙄
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meanwhile taylor’s working with rapist directors, hanging out with SA apologists and high-fiving an abuser at football games. her feminism and “advocacy” is limited ONLY to herself and it’s painfully obvious she does not give a shit about anything that doesn’t directly affect her.
also, joe’s name wouldn’t have been added to that ceasefire letter if he didn’t WANT it added. it’s a risk to anyone in the entertainment industry to openly support palestine and no one’s name is going to be “just added” without their consent. signing that ceasefire letter may be bare minimum shit, but it’s still more than anything Miss Americana has said or done regarding this issue, which is absolutely nothing, and you have to ask yourself WHY.
also if you’re upset about people saying that taylor was encouraged to be more political because of joe… idk what to tell you that’s literally a canon event that came straight from taylor’s own mouth.
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and it’s not that i think she’d be a trump supporter without joe but… it’s pretty obvious that since they’ve broken up (and even in the year leading up to the breakup) she’s not dared to do anything remotely resembling activism or being “controversial.” if anything she’s just too fucking narcissistic and self-absorbed to care about anything going on in the world, just like her bestie selena.
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muwapsturniolo · 18 days
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✯Kill Bill✯
Summary: Y/n can’t bare to see Matt with anyone else
Warning: VERY HEAVY SUBJECTS ARE TALKED ABOUT!!! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN ADVISORY!! talks about mental health, murder, guns, knives, trespassing, death, suicide. IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!
✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯
The faint humming of the flickering fluorescent lights clouds Y/n's ears as she shuffles through the supermarket. Her feet drag across the dirty tiles, her body movements sluggish. The smell of vegetables and meat filling up her nose as she walks.
"flour, eggs, milk. flour eggs milk." She chants to herself, her lips barely moving. As she walks towards the baking aisle, basket in hand, she sees a bundle of pink in her peripheral. She turns and her breath hitches.
A boquet of pink roses.
She stares at them, her mind swarming with the endless memories she's had with them. Her body stands motionless, the tunnel vision taking over.
“I got you these!”
“I’ve never received flowers before!”
Crash
“Shit, I’m so so-Y/n?” She’s snapped out of her thoughts by a voice that has haunted her for the past year now. She turns and sees her ex in full glory.
Matt.
She says nothing to him, the words that want to fall from her mouth getting stuck in her throat, choking her. He looks her up and down, noticing how beat she looks. Her eye bags are prominent, a clear indication she hasn’t slept in who knows how long. Her skin is dull, a vast contrast to how radiant she used to be. Her clothes are different as well, a pair of sweats and some crewneck that has bleach stains on it.
She doesn’t look ok.
“Hey…” She manages to mumbles out. He does his best to give her a genuine smile, but it’s more awkward than anything. They haven’t spoken since a week after the breakup, the last text being Matt telling her to leave him alone and go do something with her life.
“How are you?” He questions, not really knowing how to carry on with the conversation. He didn't plan on seeing her ever again.
“Fine…”
That’s a lie. She’s not fine.
She hasn’t been fine since the day he broke up with her. She fell into a deep depression, shutting everyone including her own family out. Her mental state got so bad, she had to go to an inpatient facility as well as therapy. They put her on medication and she still does therapy to this day.
Matt nods and looks around awkwardly. He notices the bouquet of pink roses next to her and he smiles a bit. “Do you remember when I bought you those for the first time?”
His words trigger her, her knuckles turning white as she clenches the shopping cart. “Yeah…I-I do.” Her voice cracks. Matt notices and sighs to himself.
Maybe he shouldn’t have brought that up.
He walks past her towards the bouquet, and instantly she catches a whiff of him.
Versace Eros.
The cologne she bought for him.
She remembers how she had to pick up a few extra shifts just to afford the fragrance. She was so happy when she was able to buy it for him, even more excited to see his expression when the gift was given.
He picks up the bouquet and turns to her, “Let me buy you these…for old times sake?” He doesn't know why he offered, maybe it was because he knew he did her wrong.
Immediate joy spreads through the girl's body. The serotonin rushing to her brain. She nods, a wide smile on her face.
Her cart is long forgotten as she follows him to the checkout, a pep in her step as she eagerly skips to the self-checkout.
That interaction was a week ago, and that leads us to now.
She stares at her phone, waiting for Matt to respond. She decided to text him, a simple “thank you for the roses, it truly meant a lot💕”
It’s been about twenty minutes since she sent the text and she received nothing, until her phone rang. She quickly picks up the phone seeing that it’s Matt, her voice giddy.
“Hey Ma-who the hell are you and why is my fiance buying you roses?”
Her heart plummets. The good mood she was in wiped away in an instant.
Fiance?
He’s getting married?
Why would he buy her flowers if he’s getting married? He still loves her, right? He bought her flowers as an apology right?
“Y/n I think you are dwelling too much on the past. There’s other men out there for you.”
She snaps back into reality, looking around the therapist's office in confusion. She was just in her living room, getting cussed out by Matt’s fiance.
How did she get here?
Her therapist sees the confused look on her face and sighs knowing what’s going on. “You don’t remember how you got here do you?” The girl shakes her head. “You dissociated…Again. I thought we were getting better Y/n.”
“I-I am! I’m making progress! I just-he bought me flowers and then I find out he’s engaged! It’s perfectly normal to be upset!”
“It is, but not for two weeks.”
She’s been out of it for two weeks? She doesn’t even remember going to work, eating, or even sleeping. Her therapist sets their clipboard down, leaning forward slightly. “He’s a trigger for you. He makes your mental state and life worse-No! He helps! He doesn’t make anything worse he makes it better!” She’s quick to try and defend Matt, not liking the way her therapist degrades him.
“Does he? He broken up with you on your anniversary, claiming that he can’t handle a relationship with you anymore. He left you at the restaurant, leaving you to get an Uber home. He took all your friends away from you. When you tried to talk it out with him, he proceeded to degrade you and make you fall into a deep depression that had you in a mental hospital.”
“I’m sorry for being so harsh but it is the truth. I don't think you should dwell on Matt... There's other men out there for you."
"I don't want other men, I want him." she thinks to herself.
The therapist sighs and takes off their glasses in frustration seeing that she's not responding. "are you still taking your medicati-where are you going?” The therapist watches as Y/n grabs her things and stands up. "I need to go," She ushers out of the office, dashing to her car.
she climbs in and stares straight ahead, her breathing ragged as her therapist's words circulate in her mind.
She slams her hands on the steering wheel and begins screaming, kicking her feet and flailing her limbs in rage.
“He’s wrong! He’s wrong! He loves me! He loves me! He lo-“
She stands in front of the door, the bouquet of decaying roses in her hand. She doesn’t know how she got here. She looks around her, taking in the view of the gorgeous neighborhood. She could see herself living here with Matt. A ring on her finger as their kids play in the yard. She turns back towards the door but movement through a window catches her attention. The sight in front of her broke her heart, filling her body with immense anger
Matt and his fiance by the kitchen sink. She’s washing the dishes as Matt hugs her from behind, kissing along her shoulder.
Her hand clenches the stems harder, the thorns digging into her palm, drawing the smallest amount of blood. Her breathing becomes ragged, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
She snaps.
She tears the roses apart, the petals and stems flying around, landing on the doorstep. She stares at the mess she made, one thought running through her head.
She looks through the window and sees that the lovely couple is gone. Not thinking clearly, she opens the door and creeps inside. She looks around the home, taking in the decor. knick-nacks lay on tables and bookshelves, a couple of blankets strewn over the couches. The TV was on in the living room, playing an episode of Friends.
"Matt hates friends." She thinks to herself. As she went to turn it off, she came across a picture sitting on a side table.
It was a picture of Matt down on one knee, proposing to his current fiance. She reads the bottom of the photo and her heart breaks.
They were going to get married on Y/n's birthday.
She feels stinging in her eyes as she stares at the picture. She blinked quickly and realized she was crying. Was it because of the heartbreaking news she found out, or was it because she forgot to blink? She doesn't know and she doesn't get to find out.
"What the fuck?"
She turns around and sees the fiance looking at her in fright. She begins screaming at her, yelling for her to get out. Y/n is freaking out, she doesn't want Matt to see her. "Calm your fucking tits!" She seethes trying to get her to be quiet.
"Get the fuck out of my house!" The fiance grabs a kitchen knife and begins wielding it. Matt rushes down the stairs hearing the commotion, eyes wide when he sees the scene in front of him. He dashes towards his fiance, trying to get her to put the knife down so no one gets hurt. Y/n stands there, not knowing what to do.
She was so entranced by Matt, she didn't see his fiance breaking out of his hold and charging at her.
It all happened so fast, two bodies colliding and a loud bang being heard.
a body drops to floor, blood seeping out of their chest.
"K-Kayla?" Matt croaks out, a lump in his throat as he sees his lover lying on the floor. He drops to his knees, pleading for her to get up.
Y/n stands there, her ears ringing as she watches the scene in front of her. She sees how distraught Matt is over his fiance being dead, his cries gut-wrenching. She comes to the conclusion that has her seeing red.
Matt was a lost cause, he truly loved Kayla.
"What did you do?" He turns to the emotionless girl, a look of pure hatred in his eyes. He stands staggered and gets in her face,
" WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!"
He's beyond angry, his chest rising and falling harshly, spit flying out of his mouth as he yells. Y/n looks away from the dead body and at Matt, the blood splatter on her face shining in the kitchen light.
"T-That shot wasn't for her." She mutters softly.
Matt's heart drops to his stomach as he takes a step back,
"W-What?"
He watches as Y/n's grip on the gun tightens, raising it so it's pointed right at him. “P-put it down,” He weakly demands.
“I tried…I really did Matt,” her voice cracks as she shakily holds the gun to his temple. “I tried so hard to get over you, move on, but I loved you, I still love you! You moved on so quick! Getting engaged and having the nerve to get married on my birthday! You bought me flowers!”
It’s clear as day that she’s losing it, not thinking straight at all. Matt doesn’t know what to do, he could try and take the gun away from her, but she could end up killing him in the process. He decides to play his cards right, hoping he could make it out of this alive.
"I-I do love you, I never stopped." He lies through his teeth. The words tasted like vomit, scorching his tongue as easily as they rolled off. The grip on the gun becomes loose, her eyes wide with admiration. Matt sees this and keeps going, apologizing to his late fiance in his head.
"I hated being with Kayla... She was so demanding and she forced me to move away from Nick and Chris. I only proposed because she demanded me to. Why do you think I don't wear my ring?" Y/n looked at his hands and sure enough, there was no ring.
"I chose your birthday to get married on because I wanted to run away from the altar and be with you."
"Y-You want to be with me again?" She allows her arms to drop to the side, the gun still in her hand. Matt gulps as he nods, slowly inching forward towards her. His shaking hands grasp at her waist, pulling her close. "I do, I want to be with you so but- but what?" her tone is anxious. What's holding him back from being with her? " We need to report the murder to the authorities." Y/n quickly shakes her head, tears forming in her eyes. "N-No! Matt I can't!" he grabs her face, attempting to calm her down.
"Hey hey! Calm down! It will be fine! I-If we call now and you confess, and say it was self-defense, you won't be in jail for that long! I'll visit you every day! We can get married and have our kids just like we always planned!" He's in distress, saying any and everything to get her to agree.
Her mind is reeling, nothing making sense to her. She wants to believe him so bad, but something is telling her not to.
Matt can tell she's torn, so he does the only thing he can think of.
He presses his lips against hers, holding her waist tightly. The kiss becomes intense, both of them holding each other tightly but for different reasons.
Y/n held him tightly as if he would disappear, not wanting him to leave her again. Matt holding her tightly hoping she wouldn't hurt him.
She tugs at his shirt, pulling it over his head when a glimmer of silver catches her attention.
A silver engagement ring on a chain, around his neck.
He's a liar. He never planned on visiting her, he doesn't love her anymore. There was no second chapter for Matt and Y/n, this was truly the end of their story.
"I love you," her words are whispered, her lips pressing one last kiss to his as she raised the gun.
"Y/n what are you doing?" She aims the gun at his chest, specifically where his heart sits.
"If I can't have you, no one can." She sniffles and cocks the gun.
"I'm doing this for us."
BAM
Matt stumbles back, his hand immediately flying to his chest. He looks down and sees his own blood staining his hand. he back at her, beginning to choke and sputter on the dark liquid, before dropping to the ground, landing right next to Kayla.
Y/n watches with sad eyes, her heart heavy as Matt goes limp, the light draining from his eyes.
She never thought it would come to this, this isn't how their chapter was supposed to end. Her body is on autopilot, grabbing the phone from her pocket and dialing a number.
"911, what's your emergency?"
"I just killed my ex, it wasn't the best idea. I killed his girlfriend too....I don't know how I got here. I killed him..." She confesses, her eyes still on Matt's dead body.
"You killed your ex? Ma'am could you tell me your loc- I did it on no drugs, I did it all while being sober. I did it for us." her voice void of all emotion.
"Are you still armed?" The emergency call taker asks once hearing the cocking of a gun.
"I'd rather die and be in hell than be in jail without him."
Bam!
The gun falls to the floor as her body topples over.
"Hello?! Ma'am?!"
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FIRST FIC FOR MUWAP WEEK! sorry to start it off with a dark fic but I really wanted to write something for this song and tbh, this wasn't even the original idea I had for it 😭 but yeah. like and comment plz! repost if you would like! the fic for tmrw will be,
✯ex for a reason ft chris sturniolo✯
TAGLIST🍑
@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush
@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision
@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @mattslolita @j3tblackt3ars @ilovestarz @lustfulslxt @soimightlikeoldmen69 @tastesousweet @slut4sebastiansallow @whicked-hazlatwhore
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whoetoshaw · 1 year
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THE REUNION | h. lewis
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summary: you meet up with harry almost 2 years after your famous break up. [11.9k words.]
pairing: reader x bog. (W2S).
notes: part two of three. omg, you guys helped me improve this SO MUCH with your lil inputs, so thank you!! 🥰 i hope you like. i hope you find it unbelievably sweet. it melted my heart visualising it all. as always, LMK what you thought!! lots of lurrvvvv. don’t forget to reblog. <333
song recc: something to someone, dermot kennedy / use somebody, kings of leon / about you, the 1975 / divide, dermot kennedy.
previous | next
IT HAD BEEN A NORMAL DAY TO SAY THE LEAST WHEN you finally stepped foot back into your apartment after being out most of the day.
This morning, you had dropped Zoë off at the airport to go spend the weekend with her family, and afterwards gone on to do a shop for yourself for groceries just for you. You’d then made a quick stop to town to return a top too small for your chest, bought a box of dye to finally change your hair back to its original colour, and posted your sister’s birthday present at the post office on the way back. When you got back you put your shopping away and gave the house a deep clean, throwing out the festive scented candles and replacing them with clean cotton ones as you were now in the middle of January. New year, new opportunities. Woo!
The house was spotless when you’d made yourself dinner and ate in the living room, enjoying the coziness of the place and loving the fact you only had a plate, fork and pot to clean.
When said dishes were done, your phone had been on charge and the TV still played Gogglebox, you got ready for your cosy night in, taking a bath and changing into the new pyjamas you’d bought in town today, lighting the rich, vanilla yankee candle on the coffee table and cuddled into the fluffy blanket on the sofa, a hot cup of tea in hand.
You’d just bit into a biscuit when you were scrolling on your phone, seeing how Zo was getting on back home and if her flight was ok when you’d spotted the text from an unknown number in your notification centre.
As if Zoë was there, you looked to the usual spot she sat at with a questionable look before clicking onto the conversation.
+44 1234 567890
Hi. Could we talk?
Eh?
+44 1234 567890
And please don’t ignore me
You were baffled.
Who even was this? Who owned this number?
Was it meant for you?
You typed it in your phone and saw it matched no contacts, and you grew curious.
Oh dear, who was this poor sod and who were they fighting with? You could smell a breakup. Keep grovelling, mate.
After 5 minutes of thinking, you answered:
Me
idk who this is? Have you the right number? x
Not a minute later, you received:
+44 1234 567890
Y/n? Is this not still your number?
Somehow, that was a little unnerving.
Who is this sketchy freak?
Me
Oh yeah it is then, who is this??
You thought back to your week - if you’d ran into anyone new you’d for some reason handed your phone number on to — nothing particularly stood out.
You went out everyday: going to the gym or your hot girl walks around the park. You wondered if it was someone in your Starbucks but you hadn’t even sat in this week, too flushed from your workout and embarrassed to sit with a red face in public. Plus, you wore earphones for the sole purpose no-one spoke to you. Somebody in Tesco? ASDA? Was it that plumber who fixed your sink last Tuesday?
Who the hell was it?
On the other side of the phone, laying in his bed in his apartment with Calfreezy sitting in his computer chair, was Harry.
His arm was tangled over behind his head and his hand was pulling at his eyelid, wanting to gauge them out as he didn’t know what to say.
If he revealed it was him, you’d probably block him without another word.
Harry had been in a dilemma since yesterday morning. He’d came running home, scaring the living daylights out of Freezy who jumped at the sound of him crashing into the apartment - quite literally crashing into the apartment when he tripped over the box of rubbish Cal left at the door to take with him, and fucked up his elbow once he scraped it against the floor.
He didn’t care though, he jumped to his feet and ran to their kitchen, desperate for some water to help calm his nerves.
Cal genuinely thought he was on the run from someone, watching the grown man skeptically as he downed the bottle like it was his last, entertained a little. “Lad,” his heart was about to explode. It hadn’t stopped racing, “what happened? What’d you do?” He placed a hand on his shoulder, getting a rapid shake of his head in response, but the corners of his lips raised, and was reassured it wasn’t a bad story.
Harry was out, gone a run before his shoot with the boys, and stopped at his regular Starbucks to get something to bring with him. He was in line, head down, scrolling on his phone, replying to the boys in the chat and and then locked it. Wait, what am I wanting to order?
He looked ahead of the queue to see how much time he had and then back to the menu, apprehensivly — and then back to the front of the queue.
Holy. Fuck.
His face fell.
It all stopped.
Everything.
He was frozen, frozen in place.
Laughter.
Soft laughter and glowy cheeks, the brightest smile he had seen all morning — all month.
Of all time.
You.
It was you. You were here. Right here, in the shop.
It felt like time had slowed, unwinding everything and everyone’s movements down by 100, the world turned drowsy. Harmonies played in the back of his head and the world sparked up a little bit. He could suddenly smell the freshness of outside and see clear as day in a whole new light. He watched, sunrays shining on your back through the windows, highlighting you amongst the crowds like an angel disguised on earth. He’d be able to spot you out in a crowd of a million people any day.
Everything came running back.
The memories.
The deep talks.
The adventures.
The aging together, the growing up.
The inside jokes, the laughs.
The pride.
The tears, the hugs.
The comfort.
The intimacy.
The bond.
The connection.
You were nostalgic.
Everything he looked back on, every memory he recalled, you were weaved in between it somewhere, tangled beneath.
You were his history.
How was he looking at the same girl he used to keep up in his room and away from his parents because he was too embarrassed to have them around you? How were you the same girl who stayed in his childhood bedroom with his parents downstairs as teenagers, the one who made him jealous of his own dog when you gave him more attention? The one who’d seen his brother and sister grow from teenagers to young adults getting their first job? The one who got on that flight to London to move and live there with? Who slept in that bed? Cooked in that kitchen? Packed your bags for your holidays in the living room? The same one he used to annoy where you both lay in bed, poking, nipping and tickling you when you were just trying to watch your dumb, British reality TV show? The one who grew alongside him, who seen him as a boy and grow into a man?
The one who saw every part of him, at his best and his worst? In a good mood and bad? Carried conversations when he felt he couldn’t? Knew his full authentic self?
Who cleaned his own vomit off him when he’d drank his bodyweight in drink and didn’t judge him for it? Who dealt with him when he was sick and suffering from the worst of flus ‘til the point he had to crawl on the floor? Who saw how needy and soppy he was in secret? Who booked his dental appointments? Organised an opticians appointment together when he felt his glasses were growing weak?
Who saw how nasty he could be on a night out and still, through it all — stand by him? Stand by him and still want him? Boast about him? Talk about him like he was the moon and the stars? Like he was your proudest achievement?
The one who’d still willingly dated him throughout his disstrack era?
How? How was that the same girl? Who was that woman?
He coughed and got nervous at the chance of grabbing your attention. He panicked, shifting on his feet, he tucked himself away in the line, feeling the pulse of his heart dramatically race. He began to wonder if it was possible he had a panic attack coming on. It suddenly felt like he’d downed three 500ml energy drinks, his heart beating at an unhealthy pace.
No, his heart was beating scarily fast, he’d never worried about his health so much in that moment. He clutched it, hoping it to settle.
No. This couldn’t be real.
He had to be dreaming.
You were with Zoë, discreetly hitting her arm for something she said while letting your laughter run free amidst waiting to order your drink. Your hair was pulled away from your face, arms on show from your gym vest and you were glowing. Literally glowing, your light sweat glisten acted as a natural highlight, complimenting your bone structure.
The world stopped for him. Harry felt so sick and nervous being there, with just two people standing in between you. You didn’t notice: too engrossed in conversation with Zoë, in your own world, as you pulled judgemental faces and shook your head at her story-telling.
You looked amazing.
You looked beautiful. Beautiful had always been an understatement - there was no word that ever did you justice.
Striking? Alluring?
Mesmerising?
Entrancing?
The word didn’t exist.
At first glance, you seemed so healthy. So happy.
The best thing since — everything, really.
His heart faltered a little, like painfully pinched in his chest.
Everything kept coming back, hitting him harder and harder each time.
The old times. The good times.
The times when his sole purpose was the just piss you off in that moment because he was an annoying, immature boyfriend who wanted attention.
The talk of the future, the plans made.
The Valentines gifts. The birthday gifts. Christmas.
The family nights out. The dinners made, groceries bought.
All the different rooms you’d stayed in together over the years from all over the world.
How could he have ever put you in the same worth equivalence as a bag of coke?
Harry began to sweat. She’s right there, he had his hand to his mouth, trying to stay grounded while he felt like his legs could give out any moment. It felt like he’d seen a ghost, seen something he wasn’t supposed to.
I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t believe I am here.
You didn’t play on his mind as much as you used to, he was good at blocking you out and distracting himself with something else. At random, you snuck in there, like when he saw the same car you used to drive or the jewellery brand you wore advertised on TV. It was hard, because a memory lay everywhere when it came to you, he could look at stones and think of you - but other than that, he saved himself the torture and did his best at blocking you out. It was the only way for him to get on with life, to stop moping and beating himself up over what happened.
Seeing you now had completely thrown him off his train of thought. He felt anxiety burst through him.
There she is. Best thing ever happened to me.
The one who gave that hyperactive kid in the blue hoodie a chance and doted on him since day 1. Who had been the cause of so much of his happiness, the one who loved him most - he didn’t even know in those moments.
That kid was so lucky.
He didn’t even deserve you back then.
He wanted to crumple into a ball, suddenly heat pricking at his neck, he felt ashamed and embarrassed at the thought of of someone seeing him in your presence.
It fucking sucked.
He didn’t like himself in that moment, standing in that line near you
FUCK. IS SHE TURNING AROUND?
FUCK.
SHE IS!
He turned around and left, suddenly rushing out town centre and to his flat as his heart rate raced.
You hadn’t even flinched at someone suddenly leaving to take a call as you shifted your weight on the other foot, still nodding at Zoë, beginning to realise how long it was taking for the barista to come take your order.
Harry had been effected for the rest of the day: stuttering over his words, forgetting his car keys as he got in the car, burning his toast, not turning his charger on, throwing his plate, knife and fork in the bin.
Stupidly, that evening, his first response to this was to dive onto Tinder again, familiar feelings beginning to reboot and needing a distraction, he realised what he was after and spent half the day scrolling.
Another distraction. Something to take you off his mind again. Help fill the void.
But, it had been Calfreezy who had said to him ‘just text her’ as it was obvious anyone he’d come across just wasn’t up to his standards; ticking all his boxes. Boxes that didn’t exists before being with you, boxes you had created.
And he was right. He was looking for you in every girl he’d come across . . why not just . . try for the original again?
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I promise you, I’m not doing this to be a dick. I swear, you’re not talking to that me, I SWEAR. Can I come see you and we’ll speak? Face to face?
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I have a lot to say. PLEASE.
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It’s Harry
You’d read the messages with your hand covering your mouth, not believing it.
There was no way.
It couldn’t be!
You thought someone was pulling your leg and you contemplated just blocking the number when you considered if you should try and catch them out first.
Why would Harry get a new number? He’d kept the same one since he was 19?
Me
Is this real?
Me
How did you get my number, who is this for real
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Swear to god
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Do you want a picture?
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Do you want to facetime
You rolled your eyes and dreadfully scoffed out loud. That was too forward.
Me
No and no
Me
I’m nearly believing you
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It really is, i’ll give you my bank account number **** **** **** ****
Behz’s is **** **** **** ****
Me
Ok ok
You didn’t know what to do now. This really was Harry.
Your hand was on your mouth again and you didn’t know hat to do.
What did you say? What did he ask again?
Last time you’d heard of Harry’s name was months ago, maybe longer when you found out online that he was single again, as always, your account still getting tagged in all things him and Sidemen.
You didn’t want to say it didn’t mean anything to you but 4 shots later in the club, the smug smile on your face seemed appear at the reminder. But that was all. You were still the same bitch. You didn’t bother to ask around because you genuinely didn’t care, you could have guessed what had happened anyway.
He was none of your business.
Nothing to do with you.
He was kept locked out of your mind. Rarely, he would appear in your head when you made the connection to something, like when someone used the same sauce he used at Nando’s, or someone wearing a Chelsea shirt, or even a song playing in the car, but nothing out of the ordinary.
Out of sight, out of mind, but memories existed.
Life was just life. It had been what? Maybe 2 years? Heartbreak songs hit hard because now the lyrics meant things but that was it.
You liked to think you were so far done with Harry and that you could never go back to what you once were. Too messy, especially if he was still doing what he’d been doing.
You were done, you worshipped your peace too much. The thought of rekindling or meeting up — it wasn’t in consideration. It just screamed complication. You wouldn’t put yourself through that again with anybody.
When you thought about your breakup experiences, your mind immediately flew to the reason and the reason that night was drugs. Drugs were still one hell of a touchy subject for you as if they weren’t before, but now it was like mentioning Voldemort in Hogwarts. You said you didn’t care, you claimed to, you believed to. He was nasty that night and he was so difficult to deal with afterward, so no, you wouldn’t go there again. Life was peaceful.
But deep, deep down, below that very small grudge you held towards him — you knew you were always worried sick about that boy from the moment you left him. You’d never fully be content. Your heart still had broken parts. Deep down, parts of you still cried over him.
You didn’t hate him as much as you’d tricked yourself into believing.
And you know who helped you realise this? Ariana Grande. Ariana bloody Granda and her stupid beautiful song: Ghostin. Holy shit - you were embarrassed for the taxi man having to deal with you that whole car ride you’d first listened to it. You were a disgrace. A right state. A mess!
Mac Miller had knowingly passed away just months before from a drug overdose, and the world was going through heartbreak. It literally wrecked you. You were ruined by the end of that tune, you’d deleted the whole album after it and stuck on an upbeat dancing tune to toughen you up again. But the song stuck with you and you knew exactly why. It triggered something. Perhaps, it made you realise just how much love you still had for him and that you truly never wanted anything bad to happen to him.
Didn’t mean you wanted to get back with him.
But you also . . hated that that meant he’d end up with someone else some day?
You wanted to make sure he was okay, just, from afar.
Even now, it was still confusing when it came to Harry Lewis. You genuinely didn’t care for what he got up to and who he was with — but you still had your moments of ‘is he even alive right now?’ or ‘I hope he’s alright’, just because you knew how stupid he could be, even whilst sober.
You realised you never hated him for that day — yes, he was a massive cunt but you were never bitter, because it wasn’t him. He didn’t mean it, and you knew that. You didn’t hate him at all. He was good to you.
One of the best things to happen to you.
You embraced it: a piece of your heart would always belong to Harry Lewis.
You would have those nightmares that were so real of receiving a call from his family to tell you the worst news and you would wake up with your eyes nearly out of your sockets, bruises on your skin from nipping it to make sure you were awake in the night. One time, you’d even gone into Zoë’s room to get her to check his instagram and YouTube to see when he last posted. It wasn’t your fault, it was just your subconscious, but it left you paranoid the following day. What if it was a sign to do something?
You would die if anything happened to him. It made you realise - you’d be there for him if he really needed you to be. If he didn’t have anyone else. You were still rooting for him. The same, hyperactive teenager you used to wait to get done screaming at his computer to get into bed with you.
You still wanted him to do well. Maybe not thrive –that only happened when you were together– but you weren’t necessarily wishing on his downfall.
Besides all that however, you got by that phase, and life carried on as normal. Moved on best you could. You’d even had a steady thing going but it fizzled out with different work schedules, and you didn’t know if you were ready to move to another city with someone so soon again. But it had been nice.
Encouraging.
Now, you were still single and in an empty apartment, reading these messages and wondering if they were even real.
+44 1234 567890
Are you in London still??
Me
Yeah
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Is it alright if we meet up?
You didn’t want to answer. What did you say?!
Urghhhh. Why?
Why did he have to text you? Why did he have to do this? Dig this all up again?
You couldn’t even think through all the reasons to go and to not go.
What did he want? Was it because he was single again?
Me
Harry, if this is even you, why are you texting me now? How did you even get my number? Why did you get a new number?
Me
And what do you want to meet up for? What’s wrong? What is there to talk about? Is this is going to be a waste of both our times, be honest.
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I want to see you
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Please, this is why I want to TALK
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I just need someone to talk to, Y/N. Please. And I got a new phone and picked a new number for a change. I just know your number and chanced it.
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I know I’m blocked on my old one.
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Rightfully so.
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Please Y/N.
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You told me to come to you when I thought I was ready and I am. I am ready, I wouldn’t waste your time like that, I wouldn’t do that to you, I swear. I need to talk to somebody.
Me
Have you not got any friends?
Harry could hear the pettiness in your tone.
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Have you?
Your mouth dropped at the response. Cheeky fucker.
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Please Y/N i’ll do anything
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I’ll send you 10 grand right now.
Me
I don’t bloody want 10 grand don’t dare
He smiled further at his phone at the words.
You gave it a thought.
Meeting up with him was not on your agenda at all, you thought you’d never speak with him again but here you were, considering it.
I mean what was the harm? What were you losing and what would you gain? Nothing and nothing.
You replied.
Me
Okay. We’ll go out Sunday if that suits. Lunchtime. Just a walk. DO NOT bring your car.
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Promise. Thank you thank you thank you, you actually don’t understand how happy I am. Your the best.
Me
You’re
Were you that petty? Hm. Maybe delete.
You dropped your phone and huffed, wondering what the hell you were doing.
What were you doing?!
Was this a good idea? What was best? Probably not.
You were purely inquisitive on how this was supposed to go — how you wanted it to go.
What did he want to talk about? Was he okay? Didn’t he have anybody else to talk with?
Truthfully, you forgot about it. Distracted yourself enough until your alarm went off Sunday to up and be ready on time. Truthfully, you’d expected yourself to text him to say you weren’t going in the end.
But you didn’t, and Sunday rolled around the corner and you were suddenly walking through central London in a black padded coat with your hands in the pockets, fighting off the gloomy weather. It was so windy.
Leaves stuck to the bottom of your shoes as you pondered to your meeting destination, a little bubbly feeling brewing in your stomach as you looked out for the familiar face.
It’s just to talk. Just to talk.
Oh God, was it even Harry? What if his bank card has been leaked and you were being set up? NO. What if this was for a video?!
Nervous, you were nervous to see him, but . . why? What for? There was no motive behind it: you would see him, talk, and you’d go home hopefully feeling a lot more content with a kind of closure knowing he’d get to say whatever it was he wanted to say.
An apology maybe?
And how different was he going to be?
Would he look different? Behave different?
No! What if he was gonna tell you good news?
What if he had forgotten everything about you and wanted to tell you good news that he’d officially let go of you? That he was engaged or something?
Well . . well now that just made you feel sick, didn’t it? And for what?
Calm. Stay calm. You don’t even want anything out of this. You’re . . . you’re basically meeting up with an old friend, right?
And then you saw him. The tall figure leaning on some railings, legs crossed in a slight slouch. His back was to you but you could tell he was nervous, absolutely shitting it. Anyone would see he looked casual waiting for his buddy, but you knew. His hand were in his coat as he waited, the other holding his phone.
Urgh! What do I do?! You stalled in your tracks. How do I approach him?!
It’s just Harry, Y/n. The same one.
Boldly, you walked on up to him and placed a simple hand to his arm from behind, grasping his attention and getting him to spin.
You’re just talking. 20 minutes top. Get it done and close that chapter for good.
Go hard on him, you’re not here to be his friend again.
The nervous, slightly paranoid face washed off him as you occupied his eyesight and a smile captured his face, gaze excited but eyes soft like cotton at seeing you actually turn up. “Hi!”
You crumbled. “Hi!”
“You alright?” He immediately greeted you with a hug, taking his hand out to wrap around you.
“I’m fine, how are you? Alright?” You leaned into it, your heart rate racing as you allowed yourself to give him the smallest of squeeze. His smell hit you hard, doing it’s job of naturally relaxing you and sparking something in your brain. You held onto his back a nice second or so, letting his warmth comfort you.
He looked at you, not believing you were really here and he was here, standing next to you.
He couldn’t take his eyes off you, getting to do what he couldn’t in the coffee shop and observe every speck of a freckle on your face, every out of place brow hair and speck of makeup you’d used discreetly.
You seemed so different but the exact same at the same time.
He looked the same but different as well. His hair looked darker and was trimmed short, and he had a beard growing which you weren’t really fond on, but hey-ho, he made it work. He was as still tall and slim, and he wore the same aftershave. Airforce occupied his feet than his usual love for running trainers and a bright padded coat protected him from the cold winds. He just looked like he was coming into his full adult self. It was hard picking out the similarities he shared from his teenagehood, especially when he cut his hair so short and dropped his voice so low. Kind of pulled at your heart strings.
You looked up at him, flicking hair from your face as he asked, “where do you want to go?”
You would have liked to have walked around the park but the weather was putting you off and you would have much preferred to sit down with a warm cup of tea or coffee, so you took the lead. “Come on over here.”
You sat at a table outside a cafe, the inside packed and you seemed to be the only ones smart enough to layer up. You went in together and ordered, Harry asking ‘do you want me to pay for that?’ (already knowing the answer) to which you sang, ‘no thank you!’ and the nervous tension was broken from him as you saw his strained face, like, he was in pain. He never having let you buy anything whilst you were together, as long as he was stood next to you.
You hadn’t changed there!
Yes, he had an immaculate amount of more money than you and could buy you anything you asked for, but you’d never been raised that person. You still fought to pay for things, hated dropping hints for birthday gifts for yourself and hated when he refused to accept a payment from you, but that’s just who you were, and another reason he loved you so much. You loved him for him, whether he had money or not.
You sat outside at a table, a very small table might I add, your knees pressed against each other beneath it and you could feet the toes of Harry’s shoes touching yours. He, himself, was too big for the dainty, delicate, white-painted table, never mind the two of you. It made you both laugh already, nerves easing.
You sat with your hands under your crossed legs and raised your brows at him. “So . . what is this you wanna talk to me about?”
He gave a breath and debated what to say, thankful for your playful tone – but he was at a loss for words.
He didn’t know what to say.
“. . did you really want to see me or is it because you’re single and want to see if you can give it another go with a different ex?”
If the awkwardness wasn’t broken before - it was definitely broken now. You found yourself hilarious while the dirty-blond’s mouth hung open at your comment. He didn’t know if it was safe to laugh.
You kicked him under the table to stop him catching flies and rolled your eyes, “I’m only joking.”
He shook his head at you and nervously laughed, realising how much he’d missed you. Really missed you. It got him . . flustered. Worked up.
“I missed you. I miss you. It — I don’t— it feels like I’ve done nothing these last two years,” he started, picking apart the napkin as he refused to make eye-contact. “I’ve just wasted my life. They’re . . life’s not as memorable anymore, it’s not exciting,” he ratted out.
“I hate that fucking festival. I hate everything to do with it now. I haven’t been back because I know how I got on the last time I was there. I was a fucking horror. I—I was ashamed. I’m still ashamed and I’ll never forgive myself for that night. I— Jesus. I would have punched myself in the face. I wish anyone had punched me in the face to shut me up,” his voice was passionate and how he closed his eyes when he spoke told you enough that he meant everything he said. “I’m disgusting and I’m not asking for your forgiveness ‘cause I don’t deserve it, that’s not why I’m here, but it – it haunts me. Those photos will haunt me ‘til the end of my days.”
And so they should.
No. You couldn’t say that.
You nodded understandingly.
“I was not me that night and . . I know that’s exactly you don’t want me to say ‘cause it’s . . it’s what you’ve been telling me for years. From the day you met me. I know, I know. Trust me. I’m done. I’m not — I’m not doing that anymore. I’m not that person - or I’m trying not to be,” his eyes nervously met yours as he tried to see if you knew what he was getting at, and your gaze softened.
Trying, or struggling? Either way, you nodded in understanding and encouraged him to continue.
“I don’t want to be that person. You don’t deserve that person, y/n. I . . . I’m so sorry for everything.”
The hurt was plastered all over his face, brows drawn up, fingertips nervously fumbling with the other on the table. His voice had never sounded so passionately spoken about something.
“I can’t express how sorry I am. You really didn’t deserve that shit. The shit I said - that’s the biggest fucking piece of bullshit I’ve ever came up with. I didn’t mean a thing what I said to you that night. You should’ve fucking uppercut me when you had the chance,” his head hung in shame. “I fuckin’ hate myself. It’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve done and you of all people don’t deserve to be in the company of that. I ruined our — I ruined the thing I hold closest to me and I will always fuckin’ hate myself for it, y/n.”
He looked you in your eyes for the first time and you couldn’t believe they were the same pair you woke up to in the morning. The ones you used to look into every day. The ones that made you feel at home when you met them wherever you were.
“Y/n,” he had to laugh a bit, because he was stating the obvious, “you are the best thing ever to happen to me. I–I-” he was shaking his head, like there was nothing more to add. It was a fact. “I don’t know what I can say — you’re my life. You were my life. I can’t believe someone would do that to you and I can’t believe it was me.” He pointed to his finger in his chest. “I would never do anything to-to . . even get you that angry at me again, to make you that upset. I’ve never been that harsh to anyone and I would never do that to you again. I’ve never thought any of those things about you - never.” His eye contact was making you feel vulnerable.
“I don’t go near them anymore. I been off them! I been looking after myself, or again, I been trying to. I’m trying. I’m at the gym and I did a diet cleanse the others day but . .” he pulled a face that you could smile and relate to, “whatever. Trying. I know I probably don’t look it.”
“I’m glad to hear it Harry. I can tell,” you encouraged to keep working on himself, because he did look good. Clear skin. Bright eyes. Pearly white teeth. In shape.
“You look amazing.” He couldn’t hold it in any longer, letting it out like he was holding a breath, “you always look amazing. I’m a bum. I never deserved you,” he began ranting, letting his thoughts take over. “I’ve always been an ugly bastard standing next to you—“
“—Harry!” you grumbled, hating how he talked about himself like that and grabbed his hand to get him to stop. Your touch sent thrills up his arm, he almost flinched. God, he missed you. So bad. “Stop it, now.”
“Sorry. But it’s true. You’re literally stunning, Y/n. You . . bring me to my knees, you know you do,” his smile melted your heart and his words made you want to cry because you knew he was being serious. He really thought this of you, since day one. You were the definition of gorgeous. His dream girl. “I—I” the words were on the tip of his tongue but he was scared to say those three words, wondering if you would find them offensive.
If you would react badly.
But you raised your brows encouragingly, and in the quietest, softest, defeated tone, he closed his eyes and said it, knowing he shouldn’t: “I love you, Y/n.”
Your had retreated from his arm to sink back in your seat, the previous banter leaving you as you let out a distressed sigh.
He looked at you guiltily, knowing he was only complicating everything and being unfair to you, but he meant it and he needed you to know.
Of course he still loved you, he always would.
“You can call me a saddo for all I care but I do, and I always will, y/n.” His features very faintly tinged with frustration. “I could never love anyone the way I love you and that's the story of my life, for now and forever.”
“You can’t say that.” Your heart raced.
“Yes I can. Life’s been pretty shit,” he flicked a tiny piece of paper, “it’s dull.”
You watched him, not knowing what to say. What did you say? Your voice was going to go all crooked.
“. . . right, are you not gonna tell me you love me?” He said in a light-hearted manner after a minute’s silence.
You sat with your arms folded, a humoured smile on but your body stiff with confusion. “Of course I do Harry. It doesn’t go away over night.”
“It doesn’t go away either when you get with someone else.”
You looked at him at that, and he just gave you a knowing look with raised brows.
I mean, he knew you knew. But still.
Cheeky fucker!
“But how— you don’t even remember what you said to me.”
“I know,” he sighed aggravatingly, putting his fingers in his hair. Closing his eyes, he remembered the phrases Freezy had told him and the ones you had told him when you tried to break up. “But I didn’t fucking mean them.”
“But you said them?”
“I was on fucking ketamine and MDMA - of course I was gonna target you and say shit,” he said irritably.
That made your stomach drop.
You didn’t like that.
You could feel your throat grow sore and forced yourself to keep it controlled. You huffed after a minute, shaking your head. “I don’t . . I don’t get you. I don’t get that part of you.”
“It’s fucking disgusting.”
“So why? Why this long? You’re better than that,” you told him disappointingly, “and you’ve known that for ages.”
He nodded, eyes focused elsewhere.
You would never accept it, not from him, not from anybody, and it was as simple as that.
You wanted the girl? Say goodbye to Molly, say goodbye to Ket, say goodbye to Charlie: she wasn’t staying in your house.
It made Harry angry ‘cause he knew that. He knew that. It was the obvious. He wouldn’t choose them over you . . so why did he do what he did?!
Why?! Why did he do that?! He wouldn’t choose them over anybody! “Fuck the lot of them. I’m the stupidest cunt about—”
“Would you stop saying that?” You almost gritted your teeth.
“I’m sorry.” He said wholeheartedly.
Your cheek rested in your palm, “Harry . . your apologies don’t mean anything, the damage is done. I know you regret it but it doesn’t take it back. Stop saying it.”
He picked at the paper again, his blood pressure rising as he got frustrated again with himself. “I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t deserve to get to talk—”
Your feet trapped either side of one of his legs to stop him pulling away from you and he froze. His insides ran warm, his blood melting into a calm stream, fuzziness shooting up his leg as you raised your brows at him. “Stop talking bad about yourself. Stop dwelling on it.” You piped - because it physically pained you. It physically pained you when he spoke so lowly of himself, with a mindset that believed every word. He didn’t deserve that self-torture, because he was the best person you knew. “I’m not getting a kick out of this, you know. You’re not an bad person, Harry, I don’t see you as a bad person. There are worse people than you! Stop acting like you killed my fucking dog,” you spoke, your eyes turning amused as you coaxed him out of more self-hatred. “You were horrible and spiteful but I don’t view you that way as a person, Harry.”
Drugs were a fucked up thing man, and this just proved the point. Look what they did to your golden boy. “You’re a joke is what you are. You think of the worst things you could say to me and said them. You’re lucky I don’t take things to heart too badly.”
He’d called you annoying and he’d called you what? An attention seeker? And at the time it pained you but it sunk in pretty quickly that it was his motive that hurt you and that they couldn’t hurt you because they were simply not true - and you had to them laugh at his pathetic attempt.
“I literally thought of the worst things a girl can hear and said them to make you feel bad. I wanted you to get angry ‘cause I was angry.”
You got that.
On one hand, you wanted to excuse the past . . he was only 20, but then again . . . so was I.
“You made me feel basic. Like a common, psycho girlfriend men make their girls out to be,” you tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to touch so much on specifics but focus towards the aftermath of it, the potential positives that came from it.
Although, Harry without you knowing, picking at the napkin, ushering in the lowest of tone and speaking like he was speaking to someone else. “No, but I know I hurt my girl . . . and she didn’t deserve that. 21-year-old Y/n didn’t deserve that.”
Nothing could have prepared you for that sentence. The healing you got from his words.
“She’d appreciate you admitting to your wrongs now.”
He smiled the smallest bit. “Mm. Maybe she’d appreciate the fucking Prada bag and Rolex I should have got her.” He facepalmed.
You chuckled at that, and Harry seemed to lift his head at the sound, laughing a little with you.
You moved on and talked more about what had gone on in the last year or so, what had happened since: about work and the changes made that were now worked into your everyday lives. Harry had clearly had some kind of wake up call that forced his change, maybe it was simply getting older and growing out of the habit but you were grateful nonetheless. It was a process but that fact alone he knew to start it himself was enough to tell you he knew what he was doing. You were happy for him and glad to hear about the opportunities life was throwing at him (and the boys). You praised him for accomplishing such goals.
He was still mesmerised he was getting the chance to talk to to you.
“Were you seeing anybody?” He asked after you’d both gotten your second drink, him being the one to scurry into the shop to buy you it this time.
“I did for a bit, yeah. I experimented,” you recalled, your knuckles on your cheek. Whatever that fucking meant.
Harry’s brows raised from over his glass, blinking surprisingly, “oh . . do you care to evaluate on that . . or?”
“No.”
He starred. “ . . right.”
You grinned smugly at his awkwardness.
When he continued to talk, you found yourself laughing along with him (more than you wanted to).
You hated how natural it was. His company something you missed greatly.
You fell into a daze looking at him, questioning just how this was the same person from years ago. How this man was the same boy who’s voice cracked nonstop when he was making videos in his room or shouting at his video games. The same one who helped you get your driver’s license and was your first proper valentine - first to buy you a bouquet and teddy bear. The one who told his Mum you were hungry after your told him specifically not to say it was you, but you as one. Or just him.
You could remember a podcast questioning their guest if they would still be with their partner if they took away all things sex and sexual chemistry. Could they go for 100,000 meals together in their lifetime or would that be a struggle? Absolutely you could do that with Harry. He was your best friend.
As much as sex was a big thing to you both and engaged in daily regularly, you found intimacy in those late night conversations chilling on the sofa with Harry making you laugh. Chemistry was noticeable between you when you were making a cup of tea!
You were so captivating to the other. Whether it was a funny story, a past memory, gossip he heard from the boys — he held your full attention. He was a hell of a storyteller and you became entranced in every conversation he started, even after years together. You were a fan of the fun facts, of the football explanations. Anything. You’d listen to anything he’d say. And he’d listen to anything you’d say, because the sound of your voice was one of his favourite sounds he could hear, because if meant you were there.
Also — your were the most unserious pair about. Anything and everything was a joke to you, and not a day passed without a laugh being shared in that apartment; a morning didn’t start ‘til you left that bed with smiles on your faces without some funny interaction.
Now wasn’t any different.
You hated how giddy you caught yourself being, and how he was being funnier than usual.
Dickhead.
You’d told him about yourself a little, and from the bits that you did — Harry realised how well you did without him. How you thrived on your own. It badly intimidated him and made him grow small. You’d shocked him by how much you proved you didn’t need anybody.
Eventually, when the coffee cups grew empty, you went for that walk, linking his arm (which he adored) to walk around the park as the conversation flowed, because you didn’t know if it was the last time you’d get this close to him again.
You got him to fill you in on the boys and how life was treating them, from Ethan’s incredible fitness journey to Freezy’s love life, you felt heartened hearing about this stage in their lives. You missed them all, and you hated how you’d missed out, but hey ho, things happen.
You kept your gaze on the ground most of the time, the soggy leaves sticking to your feet as Harry rambled on about things and you listened attentively. When you came across a bench, you sat down to tighten your laces and check the time on your phone, having not looked at it all day. It seemed to be flying by. It wasn’t late, but it had you wondering when you should call it a day and where you went from there after today.
I mean, what was the point of all this?
“Can I ask you?”
“What?” He nodded encouragingly, his face and voice screaming of course you can ask me anything!
“Why do you want to talk to me today? Like what’s . . what’s the meaning behind this? What do you want from this?”
Harry looked down at you with his hands in his pockets, wishing you were sat on the sofa at home right now so he could throw himself down on you and smother you with all the affection before Freezy got the chance to call him out for being a sappy, PDA bastard. He missed those days.
They weren’t the same with anyone else.
He paused.
Wait, what did you say again?
You looked at him wondrously, trying to help him out. “Like . . are you wanting to stay friends or just make peace or . .”
“Jesus Christ, no.”
You were taken back by his words. “What?”
“No! I mean—” he laughed at his slip up and shook his head, “I mean . . yeah, yeah! To be friends again. Yeah. At least.”
Well that didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.
“Harry . .” you tilted your head, “. . we’re not gonna be ‘friends’.”
Who was he fooling with that?
“Okay, a rekindling kind of thing—” he rambled on, being purposefully awkward with the movement of his hands so he didn’t cringe at himself and you neither. And it worked. Your hand held your chest as a comedic smile crossed your face and everything made more sense. “I mean, I just now get it if you think i’m the biggest arsehole for even thinking to ask y—”
“Harry,” you cut off, “I hear it. I hear what you’re asking here and I’m not offended,” you stood up, feeling like it was finally your turn to get everything off your chest and say your bit. “Harry—”
Jesus, what did you even say?!
“. . I missed you, too. Of course I did, and I’ve worried about you all this time. You are draining,” you subconsciously reached for his arm again with a smile. “And I just . . I never expected to meet up with you again, Harry, if i’m being honest. Up until you got into a relationship, I had in my head we were always going to get back but that was the shock I needed, to take things seriously. And I’m glad this has all happened the way it has. I don’t think I would change anything about this whole process,” you revealed. “But—”
“Fuck me. But?” He sighed, bracing himself for the worst.
“But, this is a lot Harry, and I’ve already accepted the way things are for me now, without you. I mean, you texting me was not something I had on my bingo card. Ever. I thought you’d gotten over me ages ago. Forgotten about me to—”
“I would never forget about you.”
The wind was knocked from you, “Harry,” you sighed, his words having an effect you. “I don’t know what I want at the minute. I’m so used to being on my own, I like being on my own, I don’t depend on . . anybody anymore. For anything. I don’t know if I could do it all again, if I want to,” you hoped your were saying the right words, and you knew they were harsh and probably not what he wanted to hear and therefore - made you feel guilty enough to dodge his eyes. “What I mean is . . everything is going good for me. My life is so simple. I don’t remember — I do remember, obviously I remember–” now you were rambling, “life before but at the same I don’t?”
Fucking hell, what were you saying? Scrap it. Scrap it all. Look at that face, you’re only breaking his heart more.
“It’s not that I don’t love you Harry, but I mean . . this is dangerous - this is scary. Our interpretations of each other are okay but they could be completely ruined if we try anything again. Things are so different this time ‘round, I’ve changed, I’m sure you’ve changed. I mean, will things even be the same as they were? All our friends and families for a start—”
“Oh my God—” he cut you off with evident irritation taking over, stroppy attitude making an appearance, “if you honestly think I give a shit what anybody thinks—”
“—OR if it is what I want,” you interrupted before he could get all riled up, “. . I–it’ll be a while. It’ll take so much time, Harry, this involves progress. I hear what you’re saying but how am I supposed to believe it isn’t just a temporary thing? What happens if you keep up this good act just until I get back with you and you go back to your old ways? How do I know you really just want this ‘cause you’re single now and all your friends are growing up and getting into relationships, and you’re just looking to settle down? You’re getting scared and I’m the safe option? I don’t want to get back with you if it’s just going to plummet all over again a year later on even worse terms.”
I don’t even know if I want to get back with you. I don’t know if i’m brave enough.
Your words hit him and he heard what you were saying, he understood where you were coming from . . but he was confident in himself and there was nothing you could say that was going to put him off. He was willing to take that risk. Your words hurt him a little, the fact you would accuse of him as only seeing you as a safety net almost, and not actually in love with you.
“I know what I want, y/n.”
You had no response to that.
“You deserve . . so much better than me,” he started, “I know that. Everyone knows that. No one is good enough for you, but Y/n . . I– I would die for you tomorrow. I would die for you any day. There is no-one on this earth that loves you more than I do, not even half as much,” he claimed. “There is nothing in this world that I could love more - I couldn’t even love a child as much as I love you I don’t think. You are . . Y/n you’re literally my favourite thing to grace this earth. You’re my fucking best friend, you are a part of me. Of my existence,” he heavily breathed. “I want to be what you deserve. I-I want a second chance. I’ll be better. I want to do better. I want to improve myself for you. I do improve naturally when I’m with you.” He breathed better with you, he hated less. He appreciated the little things and admired more freely. “You bring out the best in me, Y/n, please. Please, Y/n.”
And then he kicked a stone aggressively under the bench, “and . . I know I’m selfish, but I don’t want to see you with anybody else.”
You wanted to cry for a reason you didn’t know. Overwhelmed maybe?
Touched by words?
Feeling confused as ever what to do?
There was so much left to say.
You had so much more to say, he had so much ore to say . . but you didn’t know how to get it out.
You were both still so hurt. In different aspects.
You were apprehensive: this wasn’t ripping open an old wound, this was opening Pandora’s Box. There was a huge risk.
Harry was hurt and needed the wound to open to get fresh air in order to heal.
He needed you to be with him on this, he couldn’t go back to being by himself. Looking at you . . it terrified him what he would do for you.
Ghosting him just wasn’t an option.
“Y/n, I could go on forever. I can’t go about the rest of my life when you’re not in it. The thought makes me uncomfortable. You are wrapped around my ribs, girl.”
You just wanted to cry.
Why was he doing this? Why now?
Look at all what you’d worked hard for and overcome? Was he just back to ruin it all for you once again?
Or was this forever this time? Was this his promise to keep?
Harry was depressed. He was depressed already but he was guaranteed a life of depression if you left him here, once and for all. That was his ultimate fear.
You had your nightmares of him ODing next to you — he had nightmares of you living life, growing old and having kids with somebody who wasn’t him.
“Do you think I deserve another chance?” He asked, leading you both out into the busy streets of London again. If you didn’t think he deserved another chance, he would leave you alone. If he was pestering you and being an inconvenience - he would leave you be. He didn’t want to upset you. “If you want . . we can start fresh? Or however fresh you want. You can take all the time you need. I won’t force you or rush you into anything. You can think it over. Take it as slow as you want.” He rattled. “Or as fast as you like,” he looked off to the side, “I know you like it—”
“RIGHT, HARRY!” That cute little laugh echoed your ears as your cheeks tinted pink in the dread someone was eavesdropping on your convo.
You exhaled a breath and looked up at him.
He was still so pretty.
God, you missed him so much, missed that face.
He was as handsome as ever, as cute as ever, as hot as ever.
He was everything. He was everything to you. You were dying about him, even when he was already yours.
You had that, subconsciously jumped in your head, sending a gloat to your chest. But Jesus, what was it you wanted now?
Is this what you wanted?
Were you ready for it all again? To step back into his world? Open old doors? Rip open an old wound?
Would it all be worth it?
Harry was your first love, he’d helped mould you into the person today and had been the reason for your years of contentment and happiness. Surely that was enough to consider it?
If you were going to rekindle a romance with anyone, it was going to be him.
But could you handle a rekindled romance? Everything would be different.
Or would everything be the same?
What one was it you were hoping for?
Is that what you wanted?
What was the right answer?
Noticing the debate going inside your head, Harry have you space and removed himself from your hold, not wanting to overwhelm you or put you under any kind of pressure. “Listen, listen—” he held his hands up to steal your attention back, “I just wanted to talk to you today—”
“I’m ok, I’m not freaking out—”
“You are—”
“I’m not!”
“You are though—”
“—I’M NOT!” You expressed, silencing him for the meantime. You tried to collect your thoughts. “Look, I’m just thinking about it all. It’s a lot to consider. I know you say it like it’s easy but Harry — my life’s the one that changed the most when we split. I went back to uni. I was living with my parents, I play a different role in my job,” you looked at him, “am I supposed to just drop everything again for you? ‘Cause you can just slot me into your life again? String me back and fourth whenever you want?”
Harry was offended you’d accused him of doing such thing. His expression fell with each reasoning you spoke, the guilt back and eating at him again and again.
He didn’t like when you pointed out your differences.
Now, he didn’t know what to say.
“I’m not fighting with you here—”
“Well it bloody feels like it—”
“Harry!” You tried not to laugh at his childishness, grabbing him to get him to look at you, “I just don’t want you to think I’m someone who will keep running back to you. Someone you can keep getting back together with, like — no, I’m not that person, I’m not being that couple. I can do without you.”
That fucking STUNG. That had him worried, a humbling reminder that you could slip through his fingers at any given moment. That he needed you more than you needed him. “This is a big deal for me. It’s a one off thing—”
The second you said those words, there was no going back. You fucked up.
The grin that spring out onto his face distracted you and made you catch what you said, “no, no, no, listen, I’m not done—”
“I’m listening!”
“LISTEN TO ME!” You tried to be serious, “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me: there will be no twice,” you deadpanned. “I’m not an idiot, Harry. I’m not one of those girls. I know my worth. I know what a loving relationship is supposed to be and constant separating isn’t it.” You explained everything. You made sure he knew what you were saying. You went full detail. You shared your fears, and he respected every word. “You do that again — I’m-I’m—”
“There is no again. Y/n . . you can hit me with a fucking car and cheat on me with a hundred people if you think for a minute I’d think of you like that. If I embarrassed you like that and lied to you like that. That person doesn’t exist, It’s forever now, for real this time.” That was unnerving, how big a promise it was. You’d see each other grow grey. “I’m in it to win it.”
“Win it?”
“The whole-” he made movement with his hands, confusing you in his expressing tactic, “whole– y’know, the dream—never mind, never mind.”
“Harry—” you began again, not wanting to get his hopes up that this would work. You were giving him a chance to prove himself — that didn’t mean you’d end up happily together. What if you didn’t like what you saw? What if he didn’t? He might not comply with your new ways. Might not like them.
Halfway through your heart to heart though, you simply stopped talking when you noticed how he looked at you, and how you questioned if he was even hearing you right - listening to you at all with the glint in his eyes. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. You almost thought he was trying to laugh at you with the smile on his face, leaning his head on his water bottle. “Harry, I’m being serious.”
“I know! I know!” He held his hands up. He just couldn’t believe you’d accepted his baby steps.
He couldn’t believe he was still sat here talking to you.
You knew he really wanted this, it was obvious by the look of him. You’d be lying if you didn’t say you were moved. You hadn’t seen that twinkle in his eye in so long.
You didn’t feel like anyone looked at you like that anymore.
Was this what you wanted? After everything that went down, you always knew he was someone who’d left their mark on you. A part of you would always belong to Harry Lewis, and even he knew that.
You’d been with him since young, and you hadn’t had much hope for you both because even as a teenager, you were mature and realistic and you knew young love didn’t last. You used to laugh at your peers for posting pics with their other half’s at 17-years-old writing something along the lines of ‘one down, forever to go’ knowing fineeeee rightly they wouldn’t see their second Valentine’s together. You’d be surprised if you made it past a year, maybe two, never accepting the idea that it could be forever.
But then one day you did. You didn’t know when or where it happened, but you could remember the day, sitting in his family’s house, sitting next to his Mum and casually discussing what type of wedding you would have. Harry associated you getting married like it was the plague, avoiding it at all costs and the idea of proposing to you being a laugh fest because in his head he was still 18.
It never bothered you, because you always knew the day would come. You would marry him. Your children were going to be his. His parents were your kids’ grandparents. You’d picked him to be yours.
And you still thought that. You still wanted that.
If you could pick anybody in the whole wild world to marry and have your children to — you would pick Harry.
Because it was a life guaranteed of laughter and happiness.
“I’m giving you a chance, but I want to take it slow Harry.”
“Test the waters,” he agreed.
“Yes. Test the waters,” you glanced at him from across the table again, coming back to the little cafe to take a rest with a cold drink this time. You didn’t want no jokes or messages from the boys or posted online, no secret hints you were seeing each other again. You didn’t want him inviting you to gatherings or telling you to meet him at the apartment: you wanted it slow. You didn’t even want him texting you, that was too casual. You would text him. “Just . . don’t be surprised if I go off you some time when I remember something. And don’t get your hopes up.”
Zoë called and alerted you that she had just landed and was ready for you to pick her up, and your love fest was up. You wished you could say you went home like Harry, feeling excited and fuzzy, hopeful for the coming weeks but you almost felt nauseous with the nerves. You were so afraid it was all going to go tits up.
You slid out of your seat and followed him to the end of town, approaching the route home when he noticed your off vibe once again, growing concerned. “Hey, are you okay?” Your quietness spoke volumes for him. “You’re not like . . regretting anything or . . like if you’re saying shit to just please me then don’t. You can tell me—”
“—no I’m not. I’m not. I’m just nervous,” you confessed, leaning into his hold of a soft hand on your back.
“You can be nervous, Y/n. I get it and I know you have no reason to believe me but I’m–I’m not gonna fuck it up this time,” he almost laugh, “I mean it, Y/n, I love you. I-I want you back, I need you in my life. I’m going to treat you right this time—”
“You treated me right before, Harry,” you tutted, the two of you crossing the road. “You just blipped it up towards the end.”
“And I will never do that again. There is no end this time, Y/n, I swear,” he began to laugh, and then really laugh and you knew what he was about to say was going to be jokes, “I’ll – I’ll actually marry you this time.”
He was ready to devote everything to you. Give himself to you, pass you all his vulnerability once again. Get to that next stage. The next 100 stages. He’d give up everything for you. Fight anyone who dared dreamed of upsetting you. Protect you from any sense of harm. Clear the way for everywhere you went. He wanted to be the source of your happiness.
He wanted you. He could feel the toxic thoughts creeping in and he couldn’t find himself wanting to argue with them – he wanted you. You were his. His possession, he had you first and he’d have you last.
And the thought of anybody else getting you had his blood scalding up his veins.
You punched his arm exceptionally hard, shaking your head with a grunt of a laugh when deep down you could feel the little flutter in your chest, his laughter fuelling it. “Piss off.”
You hugged him goodbye, longer than you had done when you greeted him, getting one last whiff of his scent and parted, “see you soon.” Nothing more, nothing less.
He was in the middle of telling you to text him when you got home safe but stalled halfway when he said how it didn’t matter ‘cause he was still an unknown number, and you rolled your eyes and told him you would text him to let him know.
You did feel a little giddy parting ways but still on edge when you watched him walk alone: in disbelief it wouldn’t be the last time you’d see him but also - worried if he would get home okay.
He was a big boy but you still wanted to wrap him in bubble wrap half the time.
You disappeared down the road, prepared to pick up your friend and act like you hadn’t spent the last few hours with your heart beating out of your chest.
You felt so, so sick.
The whole evening felt like a dream.
Like . . did that really all happen?
You hoped, you prayed, it all went how it was meant to, that it went well. That this was the path you were supposed to take, that it would all work out in the end.
Please, please let me make the right decision, whether it’s with my head or my heart – I don’t know.
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imagineredwood · 1 month
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6. Strawberries 🍓
Summary: Just because you and Coco broke up, doesn’t mean you won’t have a Valentine. You son will make sure of that.
Pairing: Coco Cruz x female ex reader
Warnings: angst if you squint but also comfort, co parenting, breakup
Word count: 937
A/n: Dont know what it is about this trope but it just gets my feet kicking every time 😭 Took inspo from that fic I wrote a while ago about Coco and the readers son telling coco that mommy has a new ‘friend’ but made this one less toxic lol
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Coco smiled as he watched his son messily spray the cool whip on top of his pancake, turning to face his dad with a proud smile.
“Look! Can you see it?”
Coco glanced down at the pancake, the cool whip placed in squiggles across the top.
“I can.”
“What is it??”
His son grinned wide, waiting for his dad to compliment his art, but Coco awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what the hell it was supposed to be.
“It’s a…smile face?”
The boy’s smile faded some as he looked down at his pancake before looking back at Coco with confusion.
“No, it’s a sailboat.”
Coco nodded enthusiastically, his smile bright.
“Ah. I see it now. It’s beautiful, Mijo.”
The child’s grin returned again, too young to dwell on the face that Coco didn’t see a sailboat anywhere on that pancake. His focus was on something else now as he bounced on his feet, eyes pleading up at his father.
“Can I have strawberries too?”
Coco winced, knowing he didn’t have any in the fridge. He barely ever bought produce if he was being honest. He was getting into the habit of buying more veggies now that you had been leaving your son over for the weekends more recently. He had a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and a half empty carton of blueberries that would be shriveling up any day now, but no strawberries.
“Sorry, kid. I don’t have any. I have blueberries though.”
He shrugged, smile still on his face.
“That’s ok. Blueberries are good too.”
Coco released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and went into the fridge to grab the berries.
“We can go shopping and get some once we finish eating. That sound ok?”
His son smiled and agreed, throwing in his own request.
“Yeah, and then we can get mommy a little teddy for Valentine’s Day! It’s tomorrow I think.”
Coco laughed and nodded, digging into his own pancake as he looked at his boy.
“It is, you’re right. You want to get mommy a teddy? What color?”
The carbon copy of Coco tilted his head back and forth as he chewed and thought.
“A white one. With a pink heart that says I love you.”
Coco smiled, knowing that your son loved you more than he loved anything else on the planet.
“I think that sounds great.”
“Me too. She doesn’t have a Valentine this year so I think that would make her happy.”
The light and fun energy dipped as a pang hit Coco’s chest. He didn’t let his son notice though, forcing his smile to stay right where it was. It was true. You hadn’t been with anyone since the split. Your focus had been on your son and work, no time for dating, at least that was what you had said. Valentine’s Day had always been one of your favorites and while it hadn’t really been Coco’s thing, he had indulged you every single one of the 6 years the two of you had been together. Your split had happened around 10 months ago now and while things were cordial and friendly, your interactions not regarding your son had been kept to a minimum. This would be the first time in years that you wouldn’t have a valentine and Coco was sure you wouldn’t be celebrating it seeing as you would be alone, this week Coco’s week. He decided then that he wouldn’t allow it and patted his hand gently on the counter.
“Hurry and finish up, then we’ll go to the store and buy a bunch of stuff for mommy, ok? We’ll surprise her tomorrow.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your brows furrowed as you heard the knock on your door. It was around noon, and you weren’t expecting anyone. You picked up your phone and touched the screen, no missed calls or texts. A soft knock sounded again, and you stood, wearily going to the door and pulling it open. Your apprehension evaporated as you saw the boys there hand in hand, a bouquet of red roses in Coco’s empty hand, a fluffy white teddy bear in your son’s. Your smile was ear to ear as you bent down, your son letting go of Coco’s hand to hug you tightly.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mommy!”
You laughed tearfully and hugged him to your chest tight.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby boy.”
You stood back up and took the bear as he held it up to you excitedly.
“Here! This is from me!”
You clutched the bear to your chest and pet it’s soft fur.
“I love it very much. Thank you.”
Eyes locking with Coco’s, he cleared his throat and held out the roses to you.
“And these are from me.”
You could feel yourself swoon, heart aching in your chest, Coco’s doing the same. You took the roses from his hand and held them to your nose, taking a deep breath.  
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”
For a moment, it was as if it was only the two of you there, eyes locked, longing and sorrowful. The breakup had been mutual, for the sake of safety, but that didn’t mean it was any easier to live with. Pushing the door open, you invited them both in, Coco carrying a grocery bag as well that your son quickly grabbed and shoved towards you excitedly.
“We also got strawberries! Daddy said we could make pancakes again but with strawberries this time.”
You grinned and happily took the carton of strawberries, not bothering to mention that you already had one in the fridge. These were a thousand times better already.”
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arthurtaylorlester · 4 months
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i’m going to have to be honest, i don’t think today’s episode was very good.
of course, there were bits i loved as is with every malevolent episode, like jarthur saying each other’s names like that and arthur styling his hair after clark gable and john remembering, john literally acting like trying to kill oscar was nbd :), it was all very endearing.
but man. some of the other stuff threw me off so bad. there were NO STAKES, any sense of urgency created was immediately destroyed by jarthur literally talking their feelings out. one second is literally jumping on walls like a rabid dog, the next he’s calmly communicating with john and then he’s acting superior and calling him a child.
like, we’ve seen what triggers arthur’s erratic behaviour (usually a distinct lack of john) and how he acts when he’s like that, and sorry but just don’t think this was a case of that.
furthermore, arthur calling john was weird. not in the oh no! is john is canonically a child so you cant ship him with anyone because fuck that, that was not the implication, but in the sense that i think it was incredibly ooc of arthur to say that. like, he recognised that yellow was Like That because he was awful to him, not because he was a child. so why is he saying this to john? he says john can’t handle his emotions, which yeah because he can only talk to you which john makes very clear. arthur says its unfair for john to expect that he never speak to anyone again, but that’s not even what john asked. he doesnt want to be ignored and rather be included, which is a totally reasonable thing to ask for! he even says to arthur when he’s going off the rails that he’s used to being ignored by arthur by now and i don’t think this is another manipulation tactic.
seems like both of them forgot the main goal of the show: separating john from arthur without the king taking him back.
the friendship breakup with oscar at the end was ridiculously tacked on and in my opinion shouldve been the beginning of the next episode. but no, obviously that couldn’t have been done since the next episode is the season finale.
which brings me to my next qualm: this is a terrible penultimate episode. penultimate episodes are supposed to raise the stakes higher than theyve been the whole season so the finale is literally unhinged. and malevolent has been excellent at doing that (see: part 27 the roots). But all this episode does is nullify the stakes, we’re not looking forward to anything next episode. John and arthur are in their healing era (there was no divorce this season let’s be real), theyve left oscar, the stone is gone, the butcher is in police custody and daniel is fine.
so how is the season supposed to end with them (presumably) in the dark world? around a year ago, harlan said dark world arc soon. when is soon.
the lack of stakes in s4 has been a persistent problem for me i think, most conflict has been resolved either within the episode or soon after, especially jarthur relationship problems, which are like the core of the show
don’t get me wrong, i’m not saying i dislike s4, i love it, especially the first half, i think part 31 is the best malevolent episode to date. it’s just that with how well written it’s been, i was taken aback by this one just being…. ok?
i think that because every malevolent episode is such a banger, this one kind of being all over the place, especially with arthur’s characterisation, is kinda disappointing? ofc, ik basically all of harlan’s fam and himself were sick during november + they had a whole baby, so i’m hoping the shift in quality was a circumstancial thing.
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oceandiagonale · 25 days
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Ok but something I didn't even CONSIDER before until the Delivery Guy Volo comic;
The fact Gene was sent to the future and in an instant he's jumped like 200+ years (or whatever the actual time is), but Volo had to more or less wait it out.
Gene takes a while to process it. His breakup with Volo is still a fresh wound when he goes to the future. He has a support group, but as with all things, time is what he needs to heal and move on. But he's not at that stage yet it seems.
Volo, from his perspective, likely had Gene ripped away from him. Gone. Possibily not even knowing exactly where he went. He's hurt by the separation, but he has time. He's able to process, to accept, to heal and move on. Hundreds of years without his love, and over time, he gets to the point where he can move on.
Then they meet again.
For Gene, it was like he saw Volo yesterday. He cheated time and jumped ahead. For Volo, he hasn't seen Gene since many, many generations of humans ago. Volo has seen people be born, grow, become feeble, and die. He's likely made friends who, like Gene's Hisui friends, are long gone and in the ground.
Gene has one generation of people he knew to grieve. Volo has multiple.
So seeing each other so suddenly, so unexpectedly, the person they cared about so so long in the past, but so so fresh in their minds, they are at uneven ends.
Gene's scabbed wound opens wider.
Volo's faded scar cuts him once more.
OUH....... YEAH, YOU HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD........ 😭😭😭
and for both of them, there's other losses tied to losing each other which makes it worse!!
for Volo, it's the way he lost EVERYTHING he had believed in for nearly 800 years; he'd been hoping and working with giratina to remake the world into one that wouldn't be so painful to live in, but then Gene somehow turned that upside down?? and he had to give up not only Gene but also the chance to GET that world because he learned he couldn't do it even if he was handed every opportunity on a silver platter 😔😔😔
and then he lived through the Last War which was huge and traumatizing but at least he got a cool leather jacket out of it
meanwhile, Gene's carrying a lot of guilt and self-doubt from losing Ingo and giving Volo the chance to fight Arceus in the first place, added to the usual fears about having the entire fate of the world rest on his shoulders, so his wound is unable to close all the way despite all of guzma's help :(
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gunilslaugh · 4 months
Note
Hi! I'm so happy to see your requests open again. I hope you're doing okay dear 💜
Can I please request another part of Xdinary Heroes as your older brothers and you're dating another member? Let's say there was a time skip (like maybe 3-6 years) and you and the member are about to get married or/and you expect a child?
Take care and drink a lot of water 💜
Thank you! I hope that you are doing ok too! 💜
This is kinda a part 2 to Wait, You're Dating My Member, so there are references to it, but it still can be read as a stand alone :)
All members (U ~ U)
Summary: It’s been six years since you started dating your brother’s bandmate, Xdinary Heroes, now you two are getting married/having a child.
WC:~1.2k
Warning:none 
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photo not mine credits to owner.
Gunil
“I can’t believe my bandmate and sibling are getting married,” Gunil cooed whilst looking at the engagement rings on yours and Jungsu’s hands. 
“I mean we’ve only been dating for six years,” you remarked. 
“Yeah.” Jungsu intertwines his hand with yours. “He’s taking our engagement better than when we told him we were dating though. Remember he just stared at us not saying anything,” Jungsu chuckles recalling the memory. 
“That’s right we thought that we broke him,” you laughed too. 
“Because I never saw the two of you dating coming. I didn’t think that it was a possibility, but I’m really happy for you both,” Gunil says. You and Jungsu tying the knot makes Gunil feel really sentimental. He finds it a bit crazy that his member is becoming his brother in law, but likes it nonetheless. He feels elated that he is there to witness yours and Jungsu’s love story unfold. 
“So I get to be the best man right?” Gunil quirked while folding his arms.
“Actually we were thinking maybe Seung-” You began to tease.
“Yah!” Gunil cut you off.
“Yes, you’re going to be my best man,” Jungsu told him.
“As I should be,” Gunil hummed happily.
Jungsu
“And I was worried that the two of you would breakup. Now you’re married with a kid. Jungsu mused as he watched you holding your newly born child in your arms with Gunil holding you in a back hug, head peeking over your shoulder to admire your guys’ child.
“That’s right you kept askinging us if we were sure,” you noted, recalling the past. 
“Yeah I also said to not act couple-ly in front of me.” He shot the both of you a playful glare, but Gunil only held you closer. 
“You think that we’re cute don’t lie,” you sassed him. He does, but he will never admit it, out loud, so he rolls his eyes at you. “As if.” “You two did make a cute kid though,” he says coming up to boops your twos’ child’s nose. “I can’ believe I’m finally an uncle,” he adds. Jungsu was excited to be uncle, he had been waiting for it. He often asked after you and Gunil got married when you were gonna make him an uncle. He sounded like your parents asking for a grandkid.
“Yeah, well when are you gonna give our kid a cousin?” you played. Jungsu blushed, averting his eyes.
“Eventually,” he murmured.
Gaon/Jiseok
“I guess I can’t steal him from you now,” Jiseok told you at your wedding reception. 
“The papers aren’t filed just yet,” Seungmin jokes. 
“Aye!” You smacked Seungmin, your newly wedded husband, in the chest. 
“You know I’m just joking.” Seungmin pulls you into his side and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. 
“Gross,” Jiseok muttered, but he secretly finds it adorable. Since he’s your brother he doesn’t want to tell you how glad he actually is that you and Seungmin have each other. He thinks that the two of you make a really good pair. What you still don’t know is that when he first found out about you crushing on Seungmin six years ago he immediately rushed to tell Seungmin about it. Why? Because Seungmin had told him right after you left on the day he first introduced you two that he was interested in you. Jiseok actually played cupid to get you and Seungmin together. He feels like a very successful cupid now as he watched you and Seungmin cut your wedding cake. Maybe one day he’ll tell you the truth or maybe he won’t. All he knows is that he’s very happy that you and Seunngmin are together.
O.de/Seungmin
“Here we got a gift for you?” You handed Seungmin a bag before sitting beside Hyeongjun, your husband, on the couch.
“What’s the occasion?” Seungmin questioned, looking at the bag. 
“Just open it,” Hyeongjun told him. Seungmin listened, opening the bag to see a folded shirt. He took it out of the bag, letting it unfold.
“World’s Best Uncle,” he read out the words on the shirt. It took him a few moments to register what it meant. “U-Uncle?” he repeated. “I’m gonna be an uncle?” he asked with wide eyes. 
“Yes, I’m pregnant,” you revealed, placing a hand over your stomach. Seungmin jumped up from where he sat to engulf you and Hyeongjun in a hug. 
“Congratulations,” he told you both sincerely. 
“Thank you,” you each said. 
“How far along are you?” Seungmin asked.
“Almost three months,” you replied. Seungmin’s heart was filled with warmth at the news. 
“And I was worried about you hurting Hyeongjun,” he chuckled.
“Even threatened me about it.” You playfully shook your head.
“That really weirded me out,” Hyeongjun noted. 
“Y’know we both like you more than each other, but who do you like more, Hyeongjun?” Seungmin pressed. Hyeongjun smiled smartly.
“My child,” he answered, putting a hand on your belly.
Junhan/Hyeongjun
“I can’t believe you're marrying y/n tomorrow,” Hyeonjun tells Jooyeon.
“Why? Didn’t think that we would last?” Jooyeon said jokingly.
“It’s not that. You two were just such an unexpected pairing to me. Now we’re about to be in-laws,” Hyeongjun explained. Jooyeon laughed loudly.
“What can I say I’m hopelessly in love with y/n. I really care about them,” Jooyeon states. 
“I know you do. Seeing you step up to care for y/n made me see you a bit more maturely you know? As our maknae we always babied you,” Hyeongjun chuckled lightly. 
“You guys still baby me,”Jooyeon grumbled. “But thank you. I promise I’m gonna take the best care of y/n for the rest of my life,” he swore. 
“You better,” Hyeongjun lightly threatened him. 
The next day Hyeongjun tried to hold back his tears as he saw you walk down the aisle to meet Jooyeon. Yes you two were an unexpected pairing to him, but now he thinks that you are the perfect pair for one another. As long as you both are happy and he knows that you are, he couldn’t be more elated about you marrying his member.
Jooyeon
“Aww, you are such a precious little nugget,” Jooyeon coos at yours and Jiseok’s child as they wrapped their tiny hand around his thumb.
“Jooyeon please stop referring to our child as a nugget,” you sighed. 
“What? No! They are the third nugget of Nugget Time. I have to call them a nugget,” Jooyeon insisted. You send your husband, Jiseok, a pleading look. 
“The nugget has a name and it’s c/n,” Jiseok said, patting Jooyeon on the shoulder. Whispering a small “Just don’t call them a nugget when y/n is around” into Jooyeon’s ear. You heard the whole thing but rolled your eyes, but decided to leave them be. You cherished the bond between your brother and husband. Jooyeon cherished the bond between you and his bandmate too. Your baby started to get a bit fussy, so you were quick to take them into your nurturing arms. Jiseok too was quick to join you at your side in comforting your twos’ child.
“My sibling and my member really got married and even have a child now. I guess it really is a small world,” Jooyeon spoke recalling the words Jiseok said when he asked about why out of all people you two had to date each other. Now couldn’t be more glad about it.
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mzv11 · 4 months
Text
Take Charge (18+)
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Shot out to @danielgaycia for this gif
Pairing: Eddie Kingston x Keisha Westlund (black female OC; pear shaped, natural hair)
Warning: Smut & language
Word Count: 3.1K
A/N: I had a 🥵 dream about this grumpy cutie and had to write about it. Look how cute he is! 😍
The last thing Keisha needed was a puppy but it had been a year since her and Derrick broke up and he took his dog and moved to Boston. She missed the walks in the park and someone being excited to see her when she got home, so she adopted a playfully gentle rescue pitbull named Ragnar. It had only been a few months but this dog did not play about Keisha. He loved people, especially children but he always stayed closed and listened to her commands. He loved to go to the local dog park and run around. This park wasn’t too crowded and Keisha preferred it that way because people are always leary of pitbulls. Today was no different. She sat on a bench and tossed Ragnar’s favorite ball. He got to it quickly but took his time bringing it back as he got a sudden case of the zoomies.
Keisha answered a quick work message and slid her phone back into her pocket. She loved to just take in the peace of this park. She noticed a man in a classic Yankees fitted off in the distance playing with his dog, nothing unusual for a dog park in Hoboken. She whistled and Ragnar came galloping back at full speed with his ball. Keisha tossed the ball again, this time he brought it right back. She threw it and her phone rang. It was one of her programmers on her team with a question. It was a quick answer but Rob was so chatty since he hadn’t seen Keisha while she was in the office. There was a smaller dog running after Ragnar as he scampered back. The dog playfully pounced on Ragnar, but Keisha couldn’t tell at first that they were just playing. “Rob, I gotta go. I’ll see ya tomorrow morning.” and she hung up. The man came jogging over before she could even get up. “Yo chill! You don’t know this dog. He could fuck you up, knucklehead!” the man’s gruff voice spat at his dog as he scooped him up. Ragnar scampered back over and laid his head in Keisha’s lap. “Are you ok? Did that itty bitty puppy hurt you? Nooo. You’re ok.” Keisha laughed, his tail wagged excitedly. “Aye yo Ma, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what got into him. He gets mad excited when he sees pits. Is he ok?” his gruff voice said. Keisha’s dark brown eyes softened as they settled on the face of this light-eyed stranger. “Yeah, he’s a sturdy guy. No harm, no foul?” Keisha smiled. “Yeah, of course.” he smiled back, his dog licking his chin. “Would you like to sit?” she smiled, he nodded and sat closer to her than he intended. He’s glad he did, she smelled good. His dog jumped out of his arms and pounced on Ragnar again to play. “I’m Eddie, and you are?” he smiled, extending his hand. “Keisha. Who’s your little guy?” Keisha laughed, shaking his hand. “That’s Gino. And yours?” Eddie asked, his eyes drinking in her curvaceous form. Her form was draped in green & gray plaid pants and a green cami covered by a gray cardigan. “His name is Ragnar.” Keisha spoke.
“Damn, I see he gets his good looks from his Mama.” Eddie flirted. Keisha hadn’t been flirted with since the breakup and she wasn’t sure how to react other than smile. “Thank you. You aren’t so bad yourself. And Gino….well Gino is…I’m sure he’s sweet.” she laughed. “Aye, you calling my dog ugly? I mean…you’re not wrong tho.” he laughed. Eddie and Keisha sat on the bench talking while their dogs tired each other out. She was an IT project manager, he was a professional wrestler. He was from Yonkers, she was from Columbus. He was 41, she was 36. She had been single a year, he had been single for almost 3 years. “Damn, so you haven’t been out on a date in 3 years? That’s crazy. I’d never assume that you haven’t had sex in 3 years though. That’s too wild to imagine.” Keisha laughed, he blushed at her mentioning sex. “But it’s a shame that you probably haven’t had sex in a year. I know how women shut themselves off when they’re healing and shit. Black women go through a breakup and level up tremendously. So what did you do Ma?” he teased. “Moved from Pittsburgh to Jersey, got a new job in Manhattan. Lost 30 pounds and got a dog. Went to Iceland.” she smiled shyly. It had indeed been a busy year. “See?! That’s dope. I think I’ve talked your ear off enough. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car. It’s getting dark.” he smiled, grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the bench. He couldn’t help but stare at her round ass when she stopped to put the leash on Ragnar. “Yeesh.” he mumbled. Keisha smoothed her clothes back into place as they walked down the short trail to the parking lot. “You definitely didn’t strike me as a big ass Jeep girl. I like it.” he laughed. “I didn’t always live in New Jersey. Pittsburgh gets deep snow and has hills. But you definitely strike me as a pickup truck guy…it fits you.” Keisha laughed pointing to the only other vehicle in the lot. “Well, get home safe. I’ll see ya around.” he smiled, turning to walk away. “So…lemme get this straight, you flirt with me for the past 45 minutes, check me out more times than I can count on one hand and you’re not gonna ask for my number? Damn…aiight, it’s good. I’ll see ya around Eddie.” Keisha laughed, opening her door to climb up into the lifted Wrangler. “Wait! I didn’t think you wanted me to have it. Playing all hard to get and shit!” Eddie smiled. “I haven’t been flirted with in so long that I think I had forgotten how. My bad sweetheart. Slide me them digits. Maybe I’ll call you. You can take me on a date.” Keisha smiled and he put his number in her phone. He called his phone from hers so he’d have her number. “Ok…let me save this as ‘Fine Ass Keisha’. Can you do me a favor and let me know when you get home?” He smiled. “Oh? A gentleman. Ok Eddie, I will do that. Have a good night.” Keisha smiled before driving home. 
She texted him once she got home. Weeks passed and they texted and talked daily while Eddie was on the road. He sent her videos of his adventures around Japan and from his AEW stops, he liked her daily outfits on IG. He got her address out of her and sent her flowers a couple times. “Eddie, you gotta stop spoiling me like this.” she’d text back with a smiley face and heart eyes emoji. The texts were always super flirty but never sexual. He mentioned wanting to come to her place, order pizza and cuddle on the couch watching TV. Keisha had even got into watching him wrestle. The New Japan & Ring of Honor stuff she really liked. His AEW matches were always so bloody but he always delivered good promos, so she watched. “I’ll be home Friday, let me take you to dinner and maybe a movie. What time you get home from the office? I’ll pick you up an hour later.” Eddie grumbled as he sat in yet another airport on the phone with ‘Fine Ass Keisha’. “I’m off at 3, home by 4:15. I’d love to finally go out with you, it’s been what? Two months since the dog park?” she laughed. “Yep. I’m tired of only seeing your fine ass through the phone.” he spoke. “Well, you know where my fine ass is at. You’re the one off galavanting across the globe throwing men around. Come see me sweetheart!” Keisha laughed as she finished her nightly skincare routine. “Nah, I thought Black don’t crack.” he teased. “Black will crack if it’s dry! We’re gonna go out and people will think you’re my sugar daddy.” Keisha laughed. “Aiight Ma, I gotta go catch this flight. I’ll call you tomorrow. Goodnight.” He growled before hanging up. 
Friday…date night…
Keisha walked into her place and tore off her work clothes as she walked through the house. She had been in traffic longer than she planned. Eddie texted that he’d be there at 5:15…it was 4:45. She pulled some skinny jeans over her curvy legs and debated on a top. Something that made her smaller breasts look a little bigger, this was still just a first date. Her heart raced as she heard the doorbell ring. His face popped up on the camera. “Father God give me strength…not a fresh cut and beard trim!” Keisha groaned loudly. “Can you do me a huge favor and let Ragnar out in the backyard for me? Promise I’ll be down in 5 minutes. I’m a hot mess.” She laughed. She heard the door click shut before he said “Nah, I’m sure you look good!” He spoke as he moved through her house with Ragnar on his heels. Keisha gave herself one last glance in the mirror before grabbing her phone and headed downstairs. She decided on a brown sweater to match the brown boots that made her legs look good. Thankfully she was able to squeeze one more good day from her twist out.
“This shit is nice.” She heard Eddie mumble from the kitchen. She followed his voice. “I’m ready! Sorry, I put you to work, there was an accident on the way home that set me back like 30 minutes. None of that matters, we’re here now.” Keisha smiled, walking up to Eddie and throwing her arms around his neck. Her assumptions were right, he felt good to hug. “Damn, you all soft and shit.” he sighed, enjoying her body pressed against him. She could feel his hands around her waist, slowly moving downwards. “Are you trying to touch my ass?” Keisha snapped. “Nah! Nah!” he blushed. She pushed his hands down to her plump ass. “So now you won’t be thinking about it all night.” she laughed as he blushed harder. Keisha swallowed a moan, it had been too long since a man grabbed her ass like this. “Now I’m gonna think about it more!” he laughed as they left her home. They ended up at some new soul food spot that played 90s R&B music. “So, what’s good Ma? How you been?” he asked, like they hadn’t talked every day since they met. “I’m so ready to finish this Turnpike project. I’m ready for some much needed time off. My brain is fried.” Keisha groaned, taking a sip of her sweet tea. The weeks of playful flirting over the phone continued over dinner. 
“The smothered pork chops were so damn good but I might fall asleep during this movie.” Eddie whispered as the movie plot moved along slowly. “We can leave if you’re tired. Can’t have the champ being tired. Speaking of that…you were bringing your New Japan belt over. I wanna touch it.” Keisha laughed, pushing the armrest up and laying her head on his shoulder. “Baby, I left it on your couch. Damn, you smell good.” He grumbled. Eddie pulled Keisha’s lips to his, she moaned softly. Her hands held his face, his hands held her booty and her breast. Eddie quickly discovered that she was braless under her sweater, and Keisha learned what his hands felt like against her naked skin. Keisha felt herself arching into his hand. “Wait, wait. We can’t do this here. Not like some horny high school kids.” she giggled, pulling her lips away from his. “You right, you right.” Eddie agreed, her head dropped back to his shoulder, his hand still palmed her ass. The movie finally got good towards the end. “Wanna sneak into another movie?” Keisha laughed as they left the theater. “Or are you trying to sneak into my panties?” she added when he didn’t answer. “I ain’t trying to sneak, mama. I’m trying to get invited in like a damn vampire.” he laughed, wrapping his arm around her waist as they approached his truck. “A vampire? Hmm…do you bite like a vampire?” She teased, kissing him as she climbed into the truck. “I’ll bite you wherever you want, baby.” He growled, pulling her pouty lips to his again.
This was the first time he hated the huge center console of his truck. When Keisha leaned over the console, his hands were back in her sweater, his rough fingertips playing with her excited nipples. “You know my place isn’t far from here. You can still fuck me like a whore in the backseat but in my driveway.” Keisha laughed. “Nah, you deserve to be fucked like a whore in a bed with throw pillows on it!” he grumbled, pulling his hands from inside her sweater and starting the car. The drive was quick but mad awkward. All Eddie could think about was rolling her perfect nipples between his fingers while she bounced up and down on his lap, not how to get back to her house. “I want you to be realistic about what’s about to happen. I’m not a fuck all night type of guy. My stamina is trash. But I will cuddle with you after.” he laughed, his hands all over her ass while she unlocked the door. “I’m a quality over quantity girl. Make me cum and we got no problem!” Keisha laughed, closing the door behind him. Ragnar came running into the living room and jumping up on Eddie. “Yo chill lil homie. I’m trynna clap cheeks…don’t fuck it up for me.” Eddie laughed. “Ragnar…cage.” Keisha spoke. The dog yelped happily and scampered off to his cozy cage. “See? Problem solved. Me and you have some unfinished business.” Keisha growled. It had been a while since Eddie had a woman ready & willing to take charge, he was always expected to be the initiator. 
“Of course we do, baby.” His gruff voice whispered. His bright eyes widened as she unzipped her jeans and wiggled them down her thick legs. “Goddamn! Fine Ass Keisha is now Fine Ass, Thicc Ass Keisha!” He laughed, smacking her bare ass. Keisha pulled her sweater over her head, letting it fall to the floor. Eddie took off his boots and jacket. Keisha pushed her pink lace panties down her legs and stepped out of them. She walked over and grabbed his belt. “Oh you taking complete control? Show me what you got, baby girl.” He laughed, feeling his jeans drop to his ankles. Her hands worked their way under his shirt, his skin was soft & warm. Keisha drug her fingernails into his belly, he growled. “You like fat boys?” Eddie laughed. “I like you fat boy. Now…you got 2 minutes to get your cute ass upstairs or I’m starting without you!” Keisha moaned softly, turning to walk upstairs. As she hit the top of the stairs, she heard Eddie at the bottom of the stairs. She sprawled out on the bed and waited. He appeared in the doorway in his boxers, his hardened dick straining against the fabric. Eddie approached the bed. “Girl, you so fine!” He growled, taking in her naked form. He climbed onto the bed, kissing his way up her legs.
He pushed her thighs apart, pinning her hips to the bed. He examined her delicate, wet folds carefully. “Yep, bout to enjoy the fuck out of this!” he growled, kissing her inner thighs softly. Her moans ricocheted around the room as his lips kissed closer to her throbbing core. “Mmmm, Eddie my god!” Keisha moaned as his tongue slid into her. She was so soft, warm & sweet against his tongue like a glazed honey bun. Her soft moaning only lured him in further. His fingers replaced his tongue, his ragged breaths rolling across her skin. “Eddie…shit!” Keisha moaned, her hands grabbing the sheets as her orgasm raced towards her. “Yeah baby?” he grumbled, savoring her flavor on his tongue. His gray eyes watched her slowly come undone under his touch, he liked it. Keisha’s moans were addictive, he needed more. He lowered his mouth to her soft mound, wrapping his lips around her swollen bud. His thick fingers tapped against her g-spot as his lips and tongue made her see stars. Their eyes locked, her body shaking as the most delicious warmth washed over her. His tongue devoured every ounce of nectar that flowed from her. He sucked her remnants from his fingers before sitting back to admire his work. 
Keisha pushed Eddie over onto the bed. “Take it easy baby. You ain’t tired yet?” he laughed. “No, I’m not. I’ve spent too many nights alone in this bed thinking about how you feel inside me and now that I got you here *kisses his chest* I’m taking full advantage.” Keisha growled, pulling his boxers down his legs. She wrapped her hand around his stiff shaft, a gruff moan oozed from his lips. “Mmm hmm, that’s what the fuck I thought! You want me to stop?” she teased, her fingertips drawing soft circles around the tip. “Mmmm ma I want you...bad!” he moaned, his hands playing with her breasts. “And you got me here…eager to jump on your dick.” She laughed. Keisha straddled his lap and eased down onto his waiting flesh. Her head dropped back as his stiff flesh pushed past her fluttering lips to her deepest warmth. Once her thighs met with his once again, she started to roll her hips. Eddie’s hands grabbed Keisha’s hips as she rode him slowly. “You feel so fuckin’ good inside! I swear I’m about to nut.” he laughed. “That’s all I want from you Eddie. *Keisha kisses his lips and rubs his chest* You’ve been over in Japan winning your belt and then defending it. You deserve to be rewarded. Just cum for me Daddy.” Keisha moaned, her hands traveling down to rub his belly…one of her favorite parts of his body. “Oh, so I’m Daddy now?” he laughed, his orgasm slowly pulling him under. “Mmmm hmm. Want me to say it again? Daddy, daddy, mmmm fuck Daddy!” she moaned as another orgasm tingled in her spine. “Ohhh fuck!” He groaned as his orgasm exploded from him. Keisha rolled her hips faster, draining him and triggering her own ending. “Holy fuck that was hot!” He breathed as Keisha cuddled up next to him. 
Keisha woke up to the smell of breakfast. “Good morning.” Eddie grumbled softly, kissing her lips until her eyes fluttered open. “I made breakfast.” He smiled. She sat up in bed and pulled his lips back to hers. “You want to eat what my mom made?” Keisha giggled. “You mean you? *she laughs* I got all day to eat that.”
Thank you for reading.
Tag Squad: @southerngirl41 @theninthwonder @gomussy @alichesmi @claymorexpunisher @tribalchiefreigns @romanreignkisser @romanreignseater @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @purplehairgawdess @jstarr86 @alyyaanna @po3ticb3auty @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @miyuhpapayuh @vebner37 @reci1996 @marvel1995 @annoyedkayah2395 @sexxilatina @cyberdejos2 @jeyusos-girl @sparklykryptonitequeen91
✨MzV11's Masterlist✨
50 notes · View notes
cowgurrrl · 9 months
Note
Ok maybe I love angst???? I know you wrote readers perspective during break up but what about Joel’s perspective seeing pap pics or posts from crew, knowing Sarah and Ellie still chat with reader?
Sick and FUCKING TWISSSTTTEEEDDDD
but yes 😈
Night Shift
Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader
Summary: “Some days, I want to spit me out, the whole mess of me, but mostly I am good
and quiet.” - Camille Rankine, “Emergency Management” [1.3k]
Warnings: angst, Joel being the best dad, I think that’s it??
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The first thing he said to the girls when he told them about the breakup was, "But if you still want to have a relationship with her, that's totally up to you. I know you guys both really liked her." And it was true. After years of being more or less a single dad, he wasn't about to pry the first woman he'd introduced to them from their hands. He reasoned that they were old enough to make their own decisions regarding their relationships. Who was he to take that away? He just wasn't expecting it to hurt as much as it did.
When Sarah got into UCLA, he took the girls to a fancy dinner downtown. He's always been one to shower his daughters in love and adoration, especially when one of them hits a huge milestone and especially now that he has the resources to do so. The night was filled with laughter, wistful ideas about the future, and a few tears on Joel's part. He put his own schooling on hold to raise Sarah, and now, to see her accomplish something he never did, it's warranted for him to be a little emotional. 
Those emotions are still fresh when he wakes up to Sarah sitting at the kitchen table, a beautiful flower vase on the counter. He walks over to where she's sitting and kisses her head before asking who the flowers are from. He expects them to be from his parents or even Tommy and Maria to celebrate the good news, but when Sarah says your name, everything in him freezes. 
"I texted her when I found out because she helped me with applications and stuff. I didn't know she was gonna send anything." She says sheepishly, but Joel composes himself and shakes his head.
"That's perfectly fine, baby. It was nice of her to send you something pretty." He recovers, and she smiles as she walks over to the vase and plucks a note between the petals. 
"She sent a nice note, too. D'you wanna read it?" She asks. He rocks back on his heels, glancing between the flowers and the soft smile on his daughter's face. She wouldn't offer if she didn't want him to read it. He nods weakly, and she hands him the tiny notecard, rereading it over his shoulder.
For SBM,
Congratulations on getting into UCLA! I'm proud of you every day but especially today. You're going to do amazing things, kid, and I can't wait to see what they are.
Love you
Then, under the heartfelt note are your initials. Joel stares at them like it's enough to fix the past and bring you back to California. Sarah notices and wraps her arms around him, squeezing him tightly. He takes a deep breath and kisses her temple.
"That was very nice, honey. D'you text her to say thank you?"
"Yeah, but she's ahead by a few hours, so she probably won't see it for a while," she mumbles. "Have you talked to her since she left?" He thinks about lying to soften the blow for her as all good parents do, but she'd see right through that.
"Don't think she'd wanna hear from me."
"That's not true." 
"She's workin'. I'm pretty sure the last thing she wants right now is to hear from her ex."
"How do you know?" She challenges, and he gives her a look.
"What?"
"How do you know the last thing she wants is to hear from you? What if she's waiting for you to make the first move?"
"Sarah." He says, shaking his head. 
"I'm just saying you never know until you try! You, obviously, cared about each other. That doesn't just go away overnight." She says, throwing her arms up in defeat.
"It's not that simple."
"Because you still love her."
"Because I fucked up," he says. He makes it a point not to curse in front of the girls very often, but they can always tell when he's upset because it slips out. Old habits die hard, right? Sarah stands there, staring at her dad, as he thinks. "I hurt her, and when you hurt someone, you don't get to decide when things are okay again. I hurt her, and she did what she had to, and I have to respect that."
"You could tell her Angela disappeared again. Maybe that'd make it better?" She suggests, and Joel's heart breaks all over again. Sarah put a lot of faith in Angela this time. They all did. He thought she had turned a corner, and she had, but that didn't mean she was ready to step up for his daughter. She said as much in her letter. I'm sorry. I can't do this. I'll only hurt Sarah. Tell her I love her, but I can't be the mother she needs. I don't know that I ever will be. Just like that, he was left to pick up the pieces again. 
He reaches for her and pulls her into a tight hug. She rests her head on his chest, and he rubs her back. They stay like that for a long time, tears falling from both. He tells her it's not her fault. Angela is sick, and she has been for a long time. It's not an excuse, but it's a reason. He tells her he wishes she could be better for her, that she deserves a mother whose presence doesn't bring pain. He tells her he loves her and he's always here for her. He wishes so deeply that he could take this pain away from her and erase any bad memories of her mother. In a perfect world, maybe they could co-parent or, at least, see each other at family events every couple of years. But this is not a perfect world, and they both know it. So, like always, Joel holds his baby girl and tries to make things okay for her. 
"I love you, Dad," Sarah whispers after a long silence. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For always trying." She says. The words rattle in Joel's skull, and he immediately tears up again. He clears his throat and kisses her head again to hide the tears.
"I love you, kiddo. With everything I am." He says. When she looks up at him, he wipes his tears and claps his hands together.
"Alright, no more bein' sad. What does the college girl want for breakfast?" He asks, opening the pantry to search for something to make. He smiles as he reaches up on the top shelf and pulls down a box. "Pancakes?" Sarah's face doesn't change, and he raises his eyebrows at her. "C'mon, when you were a little girl, these were all you wanted to eat. Used to ask for 'em for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Pretty sure Abuela Lucy thought I didn't know how to make anythin' else." He teases, floating the box in front of her face mischievously. "You know you want 'em. I can see it in your eyes."
"Alright, fine, but we're coming back to your love life later." She finally smiles.
"Whatever you want, pumpkin."
Ellie wakes up to the smell of pancakes and the sound of their laughter, completely in the dark about their earlier conversation. With his girls, Joel makes pancakes and listens to them bicker and make plans for the day. Maybe, in another universe, you'd be there with him, enjoying the sunshine and flour-stained countertops. In another universe, Joel doesn't have to apologize to his daughter on behalf of a mother who doesn't care. In another universe, you're a weird, blended family who isn't perfect, but goddammit, do you try your best to be good for each other. The bittersweet thought rings in Joel's ears, and he has to shrug it away.
It's okay, he thinks. It's nice to still have dreams, right?
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butmakeitgayblog · 2 days
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I’m back but in friendlier and happier terms…
Have you ever heard of the song “Mujer contra Mujer” by the spanish band Mecano? (the quintessential latin ballad when there’s a even little sniff of the “they’re really close friends/roommates/work partners, aren’t they?” 🤨)
It gives Starlet AU vibes from start to finish.
Out of the two of them, who would be the one that thinks it’s not okay to keep their relationship a secret and which one is the one who more or like accepts it because what they can have for now is better than not being together at all?
Do they have any breakups in between?
I haven't heard of that before but I will!!
And honestly, it would change throughout the years. It would never be a situation of one "not being ok" because they're both closeted, they're both just as afraid of being out as the other, but there are times when one or the other will just think... is this even fucking worth it? There'd be times when they've been apart for so long or have had to lay low for so many months, times when the other has had to play out some ridiculous fucking fake relationship for the public just to sell a movie - those are the times when one or the other would question if it was worth it. Times when those quiet conversations while laying in bed turn more serious, with whispers of, "We could just stop lying. I'm tired, baby. I miss you. We could just... We could just have each other. I think that could be enough for me. I know you're enough for me."
But when morning comes they both know they won't do it, because even with all of its drawbacks and sacrifices, this is what they love to do. They ere born for it. They don't know how to do anything else it's been their respective dream since they were little. And ultimately, neither wants the other to give that up. Because while yes, their life together could be more than enough... If everything in their careers actually fell apart, there would be something missing.
And yes, they breakup a few times in the beginning, altho none it sticks. Usually over phonecalls but sometimes with one storming out of the house. Always dramatically. It's all mostly from fear of being found out, and not knowing how to navigate being in love in the shadows of the spotlight, and ridiculous jealousy that is never needed. But they never go longer than a few hours before talking again because they are damn near addicted to each other. Even if it's just through texts or calls, they never actually cut contact even when sometimes a breakup can last for weeks.
So yeah there's definitely a steep learning curve in the early years. It takes a lot of tears and long talks to figure out how to be a part of an actual couple and navigate this kind of relationship as themselves when the cameras are turned off
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