#[ made of a million little pieces ] moodboard

[garbagevanfleet]

Pink Lemonade (series)

PART SIX

Pairing: Sam x female!reader

Word Count: 12k words

Summary: Being a counselor at your childhood summer camp had been your dream since you were little and you had a specific vision of how it would go when it finally happened. You had not, however, planned to make an immediate enemy.

WARNINGS (this chapter): EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT - 18+ ONLY

Editor in Chief (and creator of the moodboard on each chapter): @gardenvanfleet

MASTERPOST

​

It felt so reckless. You were smarter than that - a fact that Sam, himself, had so ironically pointed out. Since you were little enough to understand socializing, you’d prided yourself on being the responsible one - logical, problem-solving, a leader. But, without even realizing it, you’d attached yourself to Sam in a meaningful way. With the way he had done absolutely everything he could to keep you at a distance, it would have been a stretch for you two to end up as friends, let alone anything more.

At the forefront of your mind, you knew you should dislike him; after all the snide remarks, sarcastic replies, and annoyed huffs, he should be the last person you’d want to have feelings for. But, you guessed, that was the downfall of being more of a logical person. Emotions refused to recognize the rules of logic, even when there were clear consequences. 

Sam had built up a million barriers between you and him, brick by brick, and you were finally starting to realize it. You spent the entire next day pulling the puzzle pieces out of the box and laying them all out in your head - every time he’d wanted to say or do something nice but had stopped himself. Every time he would forget and accidentally give you more than he was intending to. It suddenly made sense to you, why you’d lose so much progress every time it started to feel like things were improving. Whether consciously or not, Sam was trying to figure out how to have his cake and eat it too, but there simply wasn’t a way for him to push you away and let you in.  

You tried not to interact with him throughout your day, which was obviously not an easy task since you were supposed to be each other’s support. Luckily, he had already spent three weeks getting you used to not relying on him. 

Unlike all the other times you’d had a spat with him, today he was tense. Up until that point, it was almost as if he pressed a reset button on himself every night - he didn’t seem to carry any grudges against you other than a general distaste for you as a whole.

Today, he would barely look at you. He treated every interaction with you as if he were doing it against his will. Which, the more you thought about it, you guessed he kind of was. He had skipped breakfast and had shown up to dinner only to get his tray of food and then leave. 

“So, just like that, he’s back to eating in his cabin,” Josh noted, sounding a little forlorn as he watched Sam walk back through the front doors. You couldn’t be bothered to comment on it, since you were pretty sure there was no way you could express what you were feeling while maintaining what little dignity you had left, so you just kept your eyes fixed on your plate until you heard Josh call your name. 

He was wearing a concerned expression when you looked back up at him, so you let out a short sigh and meant it when you said, “I’m fine.” 

“Uh-huh...,” He clearly was not convinced in the slightest, but still, he graciously decided to change the subject. Taking on a tone that was meant to entice you back to life, he stated, “So, I heard that the director is announcing the special activity. Should be any minute now.” 

“Oh, yeah?” you prompted with an energy to match his, even if it felt a little forced. “Were you right? Is it the canoes?”

His mouth parted in a grin, giving you a cheeky smile as his answer. 

He was, in fact, partially right. Director Graywater looked and sounded proud to announce that the camp had used a chunk of grant money to purchase some canoes, and the older age groups would be taking them out, while the littler kids got to have an ice cream sundae party and have a sleepover in the dining hall. From the little chatter you could decipher, it sounded like most people were excited about the choice, but as soon as the director excused himself, Josh gave you a comically unamused look. 

“Well, that bites.”

You snorted a laugh at him, momentarily forgetting anything and everything that was troubling you. “I’m positive that he’ll let us take them out this weekend once the kids are gone. And, in the meantime, you get to have a bangin’ ice cream sundae. I’ve seen all the potential supplies in the pantry.” 

“That’s true...” he agreed, seeming to deeply consider it.

“And, you get to spend an entire night entertaining a million little kids, which also seems like something you were created for specifically.” 

He hummed, nodding. “That’s also true.” After another brief second of consideration, he confidently stated, “On second thought, I could probably use all the time I can get to recoup before I add to my sunburn, so I’m okay with it.”

“When you and I go out on the water this weekend, I’m setting an alarm on my phone. Every half hour, I’d better see you applying sunscreen,” you threatened teasingly. 

He snickered at you but clearly had no objections. “Alright, deal.”

 ❀❀❀

During the previous cycle of kids, the special activity had to be pushed forward, but this go around, it was held when it was originally scheduled; the day before the children went home. The younger campers were set to have free time until eight pm, when they’d be rounded up into the dining hall for the evening, and the older kids were instructed to be down to the beach at ten am. 

You’d set your girls loose for free time immediately after breakfast, telling them to watch the time and be back to the cabin by 9:30, so you decided to spend the rest of your morning trying to center yourself. Ever since you came to that jolting realization, you hadn’t been able to truly focus, and it was an unsettlingly foreign state of mind. 

You let your longest playlist shuffle through itself, propped up on the little soap ledge as you stepped into the shower. Even though you knew you were just going to get sweaty and stinky out on the lake in a matter of hours, you were certain in your belief that nothing helped to clear your mind like metaphorically scrubbing it clean. 

When you decided it wasn’t eco-friendly to keep wasting time under the water, even well after you were clean, you begrudgingly toweled off, picking through fond memories of camp to remind yourself why you’d done this in the first place. 

You didn’t want to waste the energy blow drying your hair, so instead, you let the sun and breeze have at it as you sat in the grassy little area by your cabin. For your last free half-hour, you tipped your face to the sun and let your eyes slip shut in between moments of gazing up at the clouds as they lazily passed. 

By the time the girls started showing back up, you were in a completely different state of mind. The first few joined you in the grass, and you had them tell you about their free time activities while you waited for the rest. 

All of them were present by the time you’d set, and you were almost excited to feel pride about that fact - to feel anything truly positive again. Even when one of the girls questioned whether you’d be waiting for the boys to head down to the beach, you simply declined instead of dwelling on it, assuring them that the boys would head there on their own. 

Standing at the shoreline was a whole group of lifeguards to watch over, and Director Graywater had the head lifeguard go over safety protocols, loud enough for everyone to hear.

You were given three strict rules; everyone was to remain in a life vest, there would be no roughhousing on the boats, and everyone was to remain in sight of a lifeguard or their counselor. 

More kids chose to opt out of the activity than you were expecting - as it were, only half of your girls wanted to join your boat, which made for the perfect amount of people. The rest of the kids got to stay and swim, and there were already a lot of them splashing around at the beach as you readied your kids at the docks. 

For your mental well-being, you decided it was best to continue to interact with Sam only when necessary, which is why you hadn’t even looked directly at him until you were helping your kids step into the unsteady boat. He was doing the same thing as you, dressed in a pink camp shirt with his hair left loose to shield his neck from the sun, but you were devastated to find that looking at him now felt different than it had before. 

The anxious uncertainty you’d become accustomed to had evolved. You used to wonder what kind of secrets he was keeping, but now you felt like you had a secret - a looming, grizzly one, even though the butterflies in your stomach tried to tell a different story. 

Since there was no solution that you could foresee, you sucked in a deep, readying breath and tried to focus on what you were doing. As you paddled the girls out onto the water, you firmly reminded yourself that you had a job to do, and it was more important now than ever. You had four little lives in your hands, and they deserved your full attention, so that’s what you gave them. 

You let them lead the conversation as you got the hang of maneuvering the boat, listening fondly as they flitted from topic to topic over the sounds of song and laughter from all across the lake. They were delighted when you surprised each of them with a can of soda, which was almost never served at camp; you’d seen them in the pantry and figured no one would know if a few got misplaced. You made them all clink their cans against yours in “cheers” before they could take their first sip, a request that all of them seemed more than happy to oblige. 

Even at the high point of the day, the lake acted as a buffer from the heat of the sun, and the breeze was just enough to catch on what little sweat had formed around the nape of your neck to cool you down. By the time the bell alerted you it was time to head back in, you felt as though you’d gotten your fill of the activity, but you weren’t as exhausted as you were expecting to be. 

You counted it as a near-miracle that not a single bad thing had happened as you tried to get the boat close enough to the dock that you could let the kids out without damaging the new equipment. Not a single child in the camp had fallen overboard, and the only injury to speak of had been nothing more than a splinter. 

Your girls were off instantly to greet the ones that had stayed behind, leaving you to figure out a way off the boat by yourself - and, as an added stressor, Sam had beaten you back. The water was just choppy enough that you didn’t feel safe just making a leap out of the swaying vessel. You were pretty sure you’d die of embarrassment if you ate shit and fell in, but...

You let out a quiet groan when you realized what you were going to have to do, and even then, you almost didn’t. It took a lot out of you to have to swallow your pride while you were still in the weeds with processing the last interaction you’d had with him, but you figured you’d just start over later with something new to dwell on before you fell asleep. 

Your nerves made you speak his name too softly the first time, and the second time it came out a little raspy, but you didn’t have the emotional capacity to be too embarrassed about it. He glanced back over his shoulder at you before turning his whole body. 

He didn’t even waste time with a quipping remark, and that’s how you knew he was still upset with you. Ordinarily, he’d take the opportunity to poke fun or pick at you, but he offered no niceties to pair with his flat expression. You hadn’t even had to ask - he seemed to know exactly what you wanted from him as he extended a hand for you to grip. 

You planted one foot onto the dock, but as he went to help you out, the dip of a wave under you made you second-guess your balance. The brunt of the muscle work fell on him as you wobbled on the step up, and you saw him have to plant his feet more firmly to brace himself as you started to tip back. You teetered on the very edge of the wood for a second, the panic of the moment forcing you to reach for him with your other hand too. There was no question that you would have both ended up in the water if he hadn’t been able to tug you into him with the remainder of his strength. 

You were breathing too quickly as he stepped back to create some distance between you, but to his credit, he didn’t shake you off of him completely until he was sure you had your footing. The thanks you offered him was wispy, and in response, he nodded tightly before padding off the dock. He was already gone from the beach by the time you got your things together and the boat secured. 

Since the rest of the day was free time, you let the girls find their way to the dining hall for dinner on their own and you gave Josh a recap of the event over spaghetti and meatballs, being sure to avoid the almost-incident at the end. 

Your girls were so tired that they struggled to stay awake while you all sat close on the bunks and shared what your favorite part of their trip was. It wasn’t a thing that had been advised by the camp itself, but one of your counselors had done it with you as a kid, and it had become a certain part of your routine. 

As you slid into your bed, certain that all of your kids were already asleep, you realized just how tired you were too. You didn’t have the energy to stave away the yearning feeling creeping up on you, so you didn’t try to fight it. You thought about being pressed against him as you drifted off. 

❀❀❀

Since the kids were all leaving the next day, right away when you woke up, you tried to really make the most of the last three hours. You braided hair and sang songs and helped fold clothes, and when the kids took off after breakfast, you were left satisfied but sad. 

You even went to greet parents this time, shaking hands and thanking them for raising such kind children. You were killing it. 

But so was Sam. 

When you walked your girls down to the parking area, you were so shocked to see him there that you faltered in your step, causing one of your kids to bump into your hip. You shared a little laugh about it and then you sent her off in a car with her mom and three tiny siblings, but try as you might, you couldn’t fully buy into the sentiment of seeing your kids off when you were so distracted with watching Sam do the same thing. 

He even helped one of his kids load their bag into the trunk of an old sedan, pulling him into a side hug before ushering him off. Like everything he did, it was meant to look half-hearted, but his body language hinted at the contrary. He kept subconsciously fidgeting - sticking his hand in the back pocket of his denim shorts as he shifted from foot to sandal-clad foot. Yeah, a little social anxiety was undoubtedly a contributing factor; it wasn’t like this was familiar territory for him, and you were positive he must feel terribly out of place. 

But it really was more than that.

You brought it up to Josh on a walk you decided you both could use. Neither of you were really leading, but you ended up down at the beach, planting yourself into a couple of lounging chairs like you had once before. 

You immediately pulled a little tube of sunscreen out of the pack on your hip, handing it over and eliciting a snickering laugh. As he was doing a poor job of rubbing it over the bridge of his nose, you cleared your throat in preparation. 

“Do you think Sam actually hates being here?” It wasn’t really what you had meant to ask, but it slipped out that way anyway. His eyes flicked over at you as he adopted a crooked smile. 

“No,” He used a fond, warm tone that told you a lot about just how much he loved Sam, despite his surface flaws. “I know he doesn’t.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, he wiped what was left of the sunscreen over his shoulders and then dipped a hand into his pocket to pull out a little package of sunflower seeds, tipping the opening towards you. You breathed a laugh and took a couple as he continued, “As a matter of fact, now I think he’s pissed off because he’s starting to like it here.”

After a few long seconds of trying to think of something appropriate to say, you just settled on declaring, “That’s fucking stupid.”

He snorted a laugh and then popped a seed in his mouth. “I agree. But Sam’s a really prideful person. He’s always had a hard time admitting when he’s wrong.” 

“He sounds like a real treat to live with.” 

The hum he breathed through his nose was warm with nostalgia. In a cheeky tone that you knew held some amount of truth, he admitted, “He’s lucky I’m a patient person. And, I cannot stress enough that I’ve never seen him act quite...like this before.” 

He paused for only a second before adding, “I’ve never seen him treat someone quite like he treats you.”

Just hearing him vocalize it stirred the emotional sediment; it relieved and validated you to know that he saw it too, but it also left you with the kind of anxiety that felt like a looming hand, ready to snap closed and crush you at any moment. You had to push back the lump rising in your throat, so when you spoke, it came out sounding raspy as if your voice were stretched too thin. 

“Josh, I feel so stupid. How foolish is it to let yourself form feelings for someone that dislikes you so deeply?” you deplored, but as much as you wish you could say it helped, the self-scolding only served to sink you deeper. 

You’d expected him to be nothing but sympathetic, but through a smirk that would have been frustrating to see on anyone else in that moment, he pressed, “You can’t really believe that.”

But you did believe it - so strong, in fact, that just hearing the confidence with which he said it made your frustrated frown turn to one of confusion. “What are you talking about- Of course, I think that! You just said yourself that you’ve never seen him treat someone as shitty as he treats me.” 

He shook his head, smiling out at the lake. “No, I said that I’ve never seen him treat someone quite like he treats you.” 

In an almost comical way, you visibly wracked your brain to figure out what he meant, and when you came up short, he put a gracious stop to it. 

“Just take a deep breath,” he instructed in a tone and volume that was just as comforting as he intended it to be. “I’m confident that he’ll come around.”

With a humorless laugh, you shot him a look, but it wasn’t as sharp as you wanted it to be. But it didn’t matter anyway, because he had let his eyes slip closed, one hand tucked behind his head. 

“How confident?” you pressed dubiously once you realized he wasn’t intending on giving any more. 

One of his eyes cracked open to glance over at you so he could ask through a crooked smile, “What, you don’t trust me all of a sudden?” 

“I trust you implicitly,” you argued. Exasperated and snappy, you added, “I think you’re the best friend I’ve ever had, which is alarming because I’ve known you for like, a month. I just also know that you’re way too fucking nice.”

An amused hum slipped through his smile as he relaxed back again. “Here’s the thing. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen, hm? Just feel how you’re feeling and keep moving forward.” 

He was, at least, kinda right, but it was your immediate instinct to reject something so laissez-faire. Plus, even though not a shred of this was his drama to deal with, you weren’t too proud to admit you felt a petty jealousy for how relaxed he was when you were only ever one minor inconvenience away from frustrated tears.

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Josh cracked a smile, and without even having to see your face, he added, “And no pouting.”

❀❀❀

It was the sound of the boy’s cabin door closing that roused you from sleep the next morning, five minutes before your alarm was set to go off. You sat up in your bed, letting the sheet fall off you as you rubbed at your face, and it wasn’t until you had full clarity that you realized just how out of place the noise was.

As inconspicuously as you could manage, you peeked out the window. When you realized you really wouldn’t be able to see much because your room was at the very back of the cabin, you padded out into the common space by the bunks and tried that window instead. 

Sam was about halfway down the path to the main trail, and through the bare screen, you could hear the crunch of his tennies on the rocky soil bouncing off the treeline. You had to glance at your phone one more time, just to confirm you didn’t oversleep. 

You hadn’t thought much more of it until you were at breakfast and he wasn’t. It’s not like you were expecting him to settle down at the table with you and Josh - you’d barely communicated with Sam over the last few days - but you at least expected him to show up for his food. 

“Did you talk to Sam this morning?” 

Josh lifted his eyes to acknowledge your question before focusing back on trying to unpeel a particularly stubborn orange. 

“No, but I’m sure he’s just sleeping in. He’s kind of a celebrated over-sleeper.” Once he got a segment of the fruit free, he popped it in his mouth, tucked it into the corner of his cheek, and added, “I actually think not being able to sleep in is the worst thing about being here for him.”

You shook your head. “I saw him leave his cabin early this morning.” When Josh raised his eyebrows at you, as if to call attention to you admitting you were watching Sam through a window, you tacked on, “It’s just so unlike him.”

He finished chewing the slice, shrugging apologetically. 

You hummed, ready to change the subject before you start to feel any semblance of embarrassment. 

The rest of the day, you burrowed into Josh’s cabin with him and Ashley and a bottle of wine. Seeing as there were three of you, you never even felt so much as a buzz, but it was fun to sip it out of Frozen printed dixie cups while you watched an endless stream of youtube videos on Ashley’s laptop. 

When Sam didn’t show up for dinner, you and Josh started to get a little concerned. You’d asked if he could call, but Josh opted to send him a text instead, stating that if he hadn’t gotten a message back by the time dinner was done, he’d go and check out the situation himself. 

He had set his phone on the tabletop, so when he got a text back, it vibrated the whole table, causing you to send an apologetic smile to the counselors down the line while Josh opened it. 

He read it for half a second before turning it around to show you the screen. 

Sam’s name in Josh’s phone was “sammy”, and the contact picture was him in his teens, smiling intentionally too big at the camera. The recent text chain was Josh asking, is everything okay? and the one he got back just said, I’m fine.

Josh was giving you a suspicious frown that you mirrored back to him. 

“I mean, you know him a lot better than I do,” you prompted. “What do you think?”

Worrying his lips together, he put on a puzzled expression, his brown eyes flicking in random directions as he considered the next move. 

“Well, he texted back, which is obviously a good sign. But, I’m not sure what could be going on.” 

You hummed at his admission. “Okay, how about this. I’m going to head back to my cabin for the night, and I’ll text you whether it looks like he’s there or not. Then, we can move forward from there.”

He agreed, and when you parted ways on the fork in the trail, you could feel the pressure instantly. You were so anxious on the walk back that you had to stuff your hands in your pockets to keep your fingers from shaking. You tried to quell the feeling by focusing on your surroundings. 

The sky above was open and clear enough that you could see every star sewn into the blue-black fabric, and the sounds of the night were idyllic - crickets and a light breeze, mixed with the satisfying sound of the soles of your shoes with every step. Somewhere on the grounds, there was a party. You could hear the bouncy music and laughter muffled and distorted by the trees. 

You were disheartened to see that the boys’ cabin was dark inside, and you had a choice to make - worry Josh and have him make the trek back over here, or do something about it yourself.

For the time being, you decided on the latter. It wasn’t like it was an emergency yet - for all you knew, Sam could be stargazing somewhere like you’d just done. You hadn’t known him long, but he seemed like the type to benefit from some tranquil shit like that. Plus, you reasoned, you could always call on Josh if things started to feel like too much. 

You pulled your phone from your little pack and sent him, No luck yet but I’m going to walk the trails around here.

Near instantly, he’d read the message and typed back, should i come?

Not yet. I’ll let you know in a few minutes, you assured him. You tried knocking on Sam’s door, but you didn’t wait around too long for an answer, since that was kind of a long shot anyway. 

To your sigh-heaving relief, you spotted a silhouette up on the trails and knew it was him instantly - luckily, he had an easily recognizable form. 

“Sam?” you called. You thought you saw the shape of him look in your direction, but it was so quick that you couldn’t be sure. When he didn’t respond, you tried again, a little louder this time as you started to trot in his direction. When you got close enough to be certain, you didn’t suppress a scolding tone as you said, “There you are. Where have you been all day?”

There was no doubt that he’d heard you - this time you were positive you saw him glance in your direction, but it wasn’t until you could see the basic contours of his expression in the moonlight that you realized something was wrong.

You were used to seeing him angry, annoyed, bored, and tired. More rarely, you’d see him look smug or even entertained, and once or twice you’d seen him genuinely happy - if only for a second. But, you’d never seen him worried. 

He was trying to hide it by turning his face away and looking anywhere else, but you could piece together an expression of genuine concern, even with what little he was giving you. 

Taking a massive risk, you reached for his shoulder without even thinking about it and spun him around to face you. “Sam, what’s wrong?” you prompted him, being careful not to sound like you were patronizing him. 

He let out a short breath of exasperation “Okay, I-” he started, and it became perfectly clear that there was something he didn’t want to tell you when he abruptly cut himself off. He absently raked his fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead until it slipped back into place. 

“Sam, you’re kinda scaring me.”

He impatiently shook his head at your admission, letting you know he just needed to stumble through this. “No, shut up,” he requested without animosity, his tone assuring you that, whatever the issue was, it didn’t have anything to do with you. He pursed his lips together, squeezed his eyes shut, and then sucked in a tight breath in preparation.

“I fucking hate that I have to ask you for help right now, but I lost my key and I need you to help me find it.” The confession was choppy as if he had to force himself to keep going, every step of the way.

“You...lost your key,” you repeated, prompting him to nod impatiently at you, though he didn’t seem to want to look at you directly. “And you want me to help you find it.”

As if he were bracing himself for you to deny him, his shoulders stiffened - but, of course, you would never do that, even if he were an actual enemy of yours. The key was important because it served a lot of purposes. Counselors weren’t supposed to lock the doors to their cabins in case the kids wanted to go in and out during free time, but in an emergency, your specific key was the way to do it. It was your only access to a whole list of supplies - the pantry and the utility closet, not to mention the emergency medical supplies. It wasn’t a question of if you’d need it, but when, and you knew with the utmost confidence that if you’d misplaced yours, you’d be a fucking wreck too.

“Okay. Where should we start?” 

He finally found your eyes and frowned in confusion. Deciding to forgo your question, it was with a laughable amount of suspicion that he repeated the word, “Okay?” 

You were surprised that he didn’t take the out you’d just given him. All of it could have been skipped - the awkward process of acknowledging everything that had gone unspoken between you. But, you were feeling particularly generous with the relief of having found him, so you nodded at him innocently, offering, just one more time, an instant pass around this conversation. 

The Sam you’d come to know would have taken it in a heartbeat, but this Sam seemed to have been pushed past the point of niceties. “Just like that?” he pressed like he couldn’t bring himself to believe you didn’t have an ulterior motive in helping him. 

It wasn’t on purpose that you let out a breathy laugh, but it made his suspicious frown deepen. “Yes.”

He let it be silent as he shifted from one foot to the other, buying himself time to chew over how he wanted the rest of this to go. “No questions asked? Because I wouldn’t let you hear the end of this if it were you. You’re not going to give me any shit about it at all?” 

You rolled your eyes light-heartedly, wishing you could hate the fluttery feeling as your brain spoon-fed you dopamine. “No, Sam. I’m capable of having an interaction with you without playing that weird game you’re so attached to. Since the moment I accidentally slammed into you on that first day, I’ve wanted nothing more from you than a conversation that wasn’t so fucking hard to navigate.”

As he stared at you, processing, you pulled your phone out again and opened the new message you got from Josh asking for an update.

“Is that- Are you texting my brother, for fuck’s sake?” The emotion in his voice felt like a bit of an overreaction to you; it was like he was personally offended, his voice creeping up in pitch in his disbelief at your audacity. “Can you just- Like for just a minute not involve him in something? I really don’t think he needs to know about this.”

Like you were handling an overstimulated animal, you put on an assuring smile as he floundered to come up with the words he wanted, holding your hand up to release him of the embarrassment of continuing. “I’m just texting him that I found you. We were worried,” you explained, finally getting to test out the calm and consoling counselor voice you’d imagined yourself using a lot more frequently. 

“I told him I was fucking fine,” he grumbled, shaking his head in frustration.

After a second, you carefully asked, “Are you sure you don’t want his help with this though? Having one more person could really only-”

As if he were frustrated that there was no way for you to just automatically know what he was trying to say - that he actually had to work to vocalize it, he firmly stated, “No, we’re not telling him unless we can’t find it and since I know you’re going to fucking ask me why,” He paused to swipe his tongue over his bottom lip anxiously. “He just- pulled a lot of strings to get me here and I don’t want to-...Well, we’re just not gonna tell him unless we absolutely have to.”

There was no question that this was important to him, so you nodded in agreement to his terms, using all your mental energy to keep the evidence from your face that it was the most endearing thing you’d ever heard him say. “Okay. But, for the record, I wasn’t going to ask.”

For a split second, you could tell that statement had comforted him, but he shook it away, lest you see him soften. “Fine.”

“Alright, with all of that out of the way, let’s go over this. When did you last use it?” 

Like it was a crushing weight lifted to finally get past all the awkward wheeling and dealing at the beginning (that he chose to trudge through), you could see his relief when he heaved in a breath and let it out. 

“I don’t know when I used it, but I know for sure I had it Thursday,” he stated. “I remember checking to make sure before I left the cabin for dinner.”

Pleased with even the slightest progress, you nodded as a prompt for him to hold onto that attitude. “Okay. Friday morning was free time - what did you do?” 

His eyes squeezed shut as if he were having a hard time going through with this, even though he’d been the one to ask for your help. “Once all the kids were out of the cabin, I went back to sleep.”

“So, why are you checking all the way out here?”

It took him a prolonged moment to make peace with the fact that he was going to have to admit, “Because, I went for a walk after dinner.”

You hummed in consideration, not allowing yourself even a second to think about the implications of him needing to walk off the things you’d said to each other at dinner. “Well, since we’re up here, let’s retrace your steps.” You held your hand out towards the trail in a gesture for him to take the lead. 

There wasn’t much conversation as you walked by his side, and that was perfectly okay with you; you had hopefully decided right away that everything else with him was going to get shelved until you’d gotten through this trial.

At least, it started out that way. By the time you’d thoroughly checked the length of trail he’d walked that evening, both of you were starting to feel the drag of disappointment. 

He was using a defeated tone as he stated, “That’s it. That’s the entire route I took.”

With a sense of finality for that step, you nodded. You met his eyes in solidarity as you both silently recognized that the next leg was going to be even less fun. 

“Lake?” you asked, to which he let out a tired breath and suggested, “Yeah. Let’s start back at the cabin.” 

The walk back wasn’t what you’d call a hike, but the path was windy - it dipped and sloped a few times, and you were sure it would be a good idea when you’d brushed his shoulder and nodded him towards the woods. You had the flashlight on your phone after all, and you’d taken the little game trail a couple of times in your adulthood - twice with Josh, and once on your own.

Somewhere along the line though, you lost the path. You realized it before Sam did, but you kept it to yourself, hoping that you could forge a way out and he’d be none the wiser.

But, Sam was smarter than that; it had only taken him a minute or two after you to figure out that something was off. 

“Are you sure you know where we’re going?” he asked dubiously, and when you didn’t answer instantly, he flatly stated, “You’re lost, aren’t you?” 

“Uhm,” was all you could come up with, causing him to groan low in his throat. 

“Are you kidding?” he snapped. 

You turned your head to face him, even though you couldn’t really see anything but shapes in the density of the trees. “I’m sorry. It was supposed to be a shortcut.” 

“We’re going to be out here all goddamned night.”

Even though the situation warranted all seriousness, you had to suppress a laugh at the idea of someone being able to hear you two arguing as you loudly squeezed your way through the thick, damp foliage. 

“Well, good thing you can sleep the entire day tomorrow if you want.” 

He scoffed at your quippy reply, and you could practically see him rolling his brown eyes. “I’m gonna smell like woods. I’ll have to take a shower when I get back, and then I’ll have to wait for my hair to dry.” 

You paused mid-step and spun around, planting a hand on his chest and forcing him to a halt. In the kindest voice you knew, you reminded him, “Sam. I’m sorry about this snag, but I’m trying to help you.”

Under your palm, you felt him take a slow breath. You wanted to grip his shirt - feel the fabric bunch in your hand. Instead, when you were pretty sure he’d reset himself, you settled for dragging your touch down his sternum - only an inch or so - as you pulled it back.

For a second too long, you both stood there, not seeing any more of each other than a general outline, before you started forward again. 

The hostility melted away instantly, but just because it was still Sam that was trudging on behind you, he light-heartedly grumbled, “I can get lost on my own.”

You huffed a laugh. “Next time, I’ll let you.”

By the time you saw the lake glittering through the trees, the shortcut had only set you back about ten minutes by your estimation. 

“Well, since we’re already down here, should we start here and work our way back up to the cabins?” you asked. 

“That probably makes the most sense.”

The air was refreshingly cooler by the shore, but no less heavy. It was such an open space that the reflection of the moon on the water was enough to let you comfortably feel around without fear of tripping over something.

“Okay, let’s comb the beach together quickly and then move up the shore,” you suggested. With no objections from him, you lead the way to the vague spot you remembered him standing in that morning and started scanning over the sand. Since there had been more than 24 hours of people freely tromping around the area, you couldn’t see the sense in wasting a lot of effort there, but you brushed over the top layer with your feet every now and again in hopes that you might miraculously uncover it. 

After a few minutes of nothing but the sound of the waves lapping up on the beach, Sam broke the silence with, “Fuck, the camp doesn’t have a metal detector, does it?”

Through a sympathetic smile, you declined. “But, let’s move on. Should we head back up the trail to the cabins?”

He considered it for only a moment before he slowly turned his head to look out at the water. 

You followed his line of sight and asked, “The docks?” 

His tone of voice told you just how excited he was to reply, “Yeah.”

“I mean, it’s worth a try, right?” The hold you had on your positivity was a weak one, but you knew if you let yourself feel defeated, he was likely to let himself get too upset to keep looking.

You started off that way, but paused when you realized he wasn’t following. 

“Sam?” you asked cautiously.

He let out a long, heavy sigh and then pressed his palm to his forehead in exasperation. “What if it’s out in the middle of the fucking lake? What if I dropped it while we were out there? It was on my wrist - it could have easily just slipped off while I was paddling.”

You weren’t sure how he wanted you to help, but you figured there wasn’t any point in trying to figure out - he’d never really given you any guidelines about these kinds of things. He seemed to determine and shift his boundaries at random. 

Your feet started moving without your conscious decision until you were standing just a couple of feet in front of him. “When bad shit like this happens to me, it always helps me to talk it out. So, what’s the worst thing that could happen? We come up empty and you’ve permanently lost your key - but it can be replaced. I’m sure the director won’t be thrilled, but it’s not like you’re trying to get invited back here again next year. At the end of this summer, you still get to go home and move on with your life.”

He dropped his arm about halfway through your reasoning, and after it had settled into the folds of his brain, he nodded begrudgingly. “You’re right. Let’s do this.” 

Standing over the lake at night was tranquil in a way you couldn’t explain. You had to pull your eyes away from the end of the dock when you imagined how cute it would be for Sam to sit next to you out there, your feet dangling off the edge with your toes in the water. 

“What color was the elastic band on the key?” you asked, shining your light into the sand by the start of the wood.

“Red.” 

“Okay, at least that should be easy to see. Maybe we should tell the director he needs to get glow-in-the-dark ones,” you jested, and when you spotted Sam checking into the water on the right side, you decided you’d take the left. 

You could feel the old wood shift under your feet as you moved. “Anything?” you asked him over your shoulder. 

“If I found something, you’d be the first to know,” he replied, just a hair on the snippy side for your liking, but you decided that he could be excused due to the circumstances - just this once. You were about to reply when he blurted, “Fuck, wait.”

His cautiously optimistic tone made your heart race, and you were over by his side in half a second, ducking down to your knees to match his position. 

The view was partially obscured by the sparse strands of black seaweed, but as they swayed with the currents, you caught a peek of the red cord. 

“Oh my god,” you breathed as you both stared down at it, unmoving for a moment. 

Neither of you were saying it, but you were both perfectly aware of how inconvenient it was. Sam’s eyes were wide as he started to process the fact that someone would have to jump in and get it, and it wasn’t like the key had had the decency to land somewhere shallow. It had fallen off near the end of the dock - the lack of light made it hard to determine how deep it was, but you were pretty positive it would be over your head.

Alarmingly, when you looked over at him, he was already staring at you. 

“You going in for it?”

Your eyes popped open wide at his question, making you squeak, “What?! Why would I be the one to go in for it? I didn’t lose the key.”

He breathed a laugh that sounded genuinely amused. “You know where this is?” he asked coyly. You were holding your breath as you shook your head. “This is right where you almost fell in the other day.” 

“Oh,” was all you could think to say. He nodded slowly at your understanding. 

“Mhm. You ripped that bitch off my arm.”

You grimaced at him apologetically, putting on an innocent smile. 

“What if I just push you in?” he quipped. You wanted to believe he was teasing but you just couldn’t put your trust in it completely. 

Your eyes narrowed threateningly. “If you push me into this water, I will punch you so hard in your stupid fucking face, Samuel.”

Completely ignoring your statement, he noted, “If I pushed you in, you’d have no reason to not grab it. You’d already be wet.”

“Sam,” you warned, sitting up a little straighter so you could jump back if you had to. 

He snickered, rolling his eyes as he stood up to toe his sandals off. “Calm down.” 

You were expecting him to walk in from the beach, but instead, he just sat at the edge of the dock and slid in. It was apparently as deep as you’d thought because gravity pulled him under once he let go, and for a second, you were left peering off the edge into the dark.

When he popped back up, he instantly pushed his wet hair off his face and let out a wavering breath. 

Before you could stop yourself, your lips parted and you quipped, “Remember how you were worried about smelling like the woods? Well, now you get to smell like lake water too.”

He glared at you, but it was half-hearted and weak. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not going to be able to see it well from in here, so you’ll have to point it out, I think.”

You nodded, wanting more than anything to be helpful despite the ribbing you’d just given him. Even as bright as your phone flashlight was, you still had to strain to find the key again through the dark. You picked out just a flash of red and pointed to it. 

“It’s right...” He pointed his finger down into the water and you waited until he was hovering over it before finishing, “There.”

He took a breath and then dove for it. It wasn’t more than a few seconds that he was gone, but you waited in suspense, leaning as far over the edge of the dock as you could without the immediate risk of flipping ass over tin cup. 

When he popped back up, he blew the water off his lips and pushed his hair from his eyes for a second time. “I didn’t get it,” he stated. 

You frowned sympathetically. “Well, that’s not good. Did you stir up all the dirt at the bottom?” 

With an unamused expression, he asked, “What do you think? I had to try to feel for it.” 

“Maybe if you-”

“Unless you wanna get in here instead, don’t say it,” he challenged, and you put your hands up in surrender, pursing your lips around a humored smile.

Sam was still wearing a smirk of warning when he sucked in another breath before submerging. When he resurfaced this time, he responded to your hopeful look by triumphantly lifting his hand to show you the key, dangling from the red cord in his grasp. 

You rocked back on your heels, pressing your fingers over your mouth to muffle an excited squeak that bubbled out without warning. 

“Fuck, what a relief,” you gushed through a beaming grin that forced a fond smile of his own. “I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling.” 

You extended a hand with the intention of taking the key from him, hoping to keep it safe while he swam back to the shore, but he reached past you and dropped it on the dock. Instead, he opted to press his chilled palm to yours, slotting your fingers together. 

A hot rush of adrenaline surged through your body. You had been expecting him to near-immediately go back to being cold and closed off once you’d helped him complete his goal - the very best case scenario you could have imagined was him visibly struggling to be annoyed with you from then on.  

Your face was burning as you took in his features, highlighted in liquid silver from above by the moon. Little shining beads dripped from his chin as he used his other hand to push back his hair, one more time. With the most caution you could ever remember using, you started to lean forward toward him. The thought that he might reject you now, after all of this, filled you with the kind of fear that made you feel like you were vibrating. 

When you got close enough to him, he used his other hand to grip the side of the dock and turned his knuckles white by lifting himself just enough. As you met in the middle, the chilled tip of his nose touched you first; like ice against your superheated skin. He had obviously been intending to just brush his lips against yours, testing whether or not you’d let him, but the well-timed swell of a wave jolted you forward just enough to press your mouths together in earnest. 

He peeled his hand from yours and you sucked a shocked breath in through your nostrils as he wrapped his long fingers around the back of your neck. The corners of his lips turned up into a pleased smile at the sound. 

When he broke the kiss, you sat back just a bit. You wanted desperately to continue, but your core muscles were weak from the strain of keeping you at such a dramatic angle. If he had made it clear that he wanted you to, you would have kept it up until you physically could not, but as it were, he let go of the dock, allowing gravity to pull him back into the water.

You didn’t know what to expect when his fingers wrapped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping tighter than you were expecting, but you knew you liked the feeling.

“You know if you want to keep doing this, you’re going to have to come in here, right?” he asked smugly. It took you a second to understand what he was saying, but once it clicked your eyes popped open wide. 

“No, no- Sam, no.” It started out as a plea but quickly turned to a growling threat. 

Having absolutely no effect on him other than to widen his grin, he laughed, “Don’t scream.” 

For being as lithe as he appeared, you found out that evening that he had a hidden strength to him. When he tugged you forward, you made the split-second decision to jump with the direction of the movement for fear that the wood would scrape up your legs on the way down. He was right to warn you; you had to purse your lips together as tightly as you could manage in order to not let out a shriek as the crown of your head hit the water. 

You were a great swimmer, but between the chill and the excitement of the moment, you had to work to reorient yourself. It was his hand around your bicep that guided you to the surface, and when you broke through, you sucked in such a dramatic breath that you were sure it could be heard all the way to the other side of the grounds. 

He was snickering as he shushed you, but you didn’t even think about it before cocking your fist back and using all of your hidden strength to punch the meatiest part of his shoulder. It wasn’t the slug to the face you’d promised him, but he still winced, hissing through his perfect teeth in between bursts of muffled laughter. 

“You fucking asshole,” you growled, thinking about swiping for him again but deciding against it in favor of wrapping your arms around your chest like that might help. 

The water wasn’t quite as cold as you’d expected it to be, but your wet skin made you dread the breeze. You were just lucky that it wasn’t a super deep lake. 

Just by the smile he was wearing, you knew he was perfectly aware that you were going to forgive him, near-instantly. “See, now we got the hard part out of the way.”

“Prick,” you grumbled, glaring at him. But despite that, you didn’t even consider moving away when he stretched a hand out for your waist. Between the current, your shivering, and the lack of anything tethering you to something solid, it was tough to control your body; when he pulled you closer to him, there was nothing stopping you from just bumping into him. 

You couldn’t really see any other choice but to wrap your arms around his neck, threading your shaking fingers through his heavy hair for security. This time his mouth was open when it pressed to yours, his tongue swiping over your lips. Your heart was pounding; it muted your hearing with each pulse as the icy-hot adrenaline pumped through your veins. 

His hand first settled on the small of your waist before he realized it wasn’t enough for him. There was the slightest hesitation before it slipped down your side, cupping under the back of your thigh and lifting your leg to hitch over his hip. He immediately did the same with your other leg, leaving you pressed flush to him with nothing but your wet clothes in between. 

His fingers dug into your muscle as you tried to level your jagged breathing, but your instinct was to tighten your thighs around him. You hooked your ankles behind his lower back, leaving him holding your entire weight and his own as you bobbed with the lazy waves. 

When you sucked in a deep breath through your nose, your rib cage swelled; oxygen and bravery filling the space. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, and his low hum rattled against your teeth. His left hand left your leg to reach for the dock, turning so he could press you back into the submerged support beam. On either side of your head, his fingers gripped the wooden slats, leaving you feeling protected from the world outside the one you’d shoddily constructed around the two of you.

The water rhythmically lapping against your back felt like a caress in a dream. There were so many points of contact on your body that you could focus on, but all your attention was trained on what your mouth was doing - what his silky tongue felt and tasted like on yours. 

You framed his face with your palms, holding him still while you pulled back to catch your breath. The weight of the water had pulled down the hem of his collar, letting your eyes catch on the hollow spot under his throat, right between his collarbones. You weren’t sure if you were being irrational in the fear that if you met his eyes, the moment would shatter, so it took you a while to gather the courage. You placed your hand on his breastbone, gripping lightly around his throat as you followed it up. With your first two fingers, you traced his lips, causing the corners to twitch into a smile. 

“It’s cold,” you noted in a whisper, running your hand down the goosebumps on his shoulder like they were braille you were trying to decipher. 

He hummed in agreement. “It is.”

After a few silent seconds, you huffed amusedly, rolled your eyes, and said, “That was a cue for you to take me back to the cabins.”

“I know what it was,” he assured you, smug enough that you shot him a slight glare.

“Don’t look at me like that.” 

He took your hand, letting you know he intended to drag you with him as he started to wade back to the shore. 

The walk back to the cabins was unpleasant. After he’d grabbed his key and shoes off the dock, you made a beeline, not wanting to waste any more time freezing your ass off than you had to. Each step was soggy and sandy as you wrapped your arms around your chest in a vain attempt at staving off the light breeze. 

Without asking your opinion, he picked your cabin, ushering you into the dark and then shut the door behind himself. Your haste was spurred on by the need to get warm rather than to rush the interaction, so you stayed facing away from him as you peeled your sopping wet shirt off your chest and let it hit the wooden floor with a heavy sound. 

Your eyes had become accustomed to only the light of the moon, and you guessed he was in the same boat; neither of you made a move to flip on any light switches until you got to the bathroom. 

He kept pausing to shed his layers, so he was a few good steps behind, still in the living space by the time you were turning the water on. You were completely undressed and already standing in the shower by the time you heard the bathroom door latch shut.

You knew that starting off with the water too hot would be a bad idea - you remembered that you were supposed to bring your body temperature up slowly - so you fiddled with it until it felt right. 

To his credit, when he stepped in, he pointedly kept his eyes on yours, seemingly just to show off the depth of his self control. But, you weren’t impressed - or, at least that’s what you wanted him to believe. Without wasting a second, you looped your arms around his neck and stepped into him, pressing him back against the cold tile as you kissed him. 

You could sense him second guessing himself before his hand settled into the dip of your waist, the pads of his fingers digging in where they landed. He used the leverage to walk you back until the warm spray was falling over the nape of your neck.

You weren’t sure where the urge to tease him came from, but it bubbled up past your lips in the form of, “Is this why you’ve been such an awful pain in the ass?” 

“Don’t ask me that,” he instructed, wearing an amused tone. “Actually, maybe just don’t talk at all.”

You pressed your luck, cupping his jawbone with your hand to sweeten the sentiment. “I already did. Can’t take it back now.”

He huffed a laugh. “Here, let me show you how to shut up.” You were sure he was going to kiss you again until he tipped you back, dunking your face into the running water and making you have to spit some onto the shower floor. 

You smacked the back of your hand against his peck, making him blurt out a truly unrestrained laugh - so bubbly and sweet sounding as it bounced around the confined space that you couldn’t even bring yourself to be upset. 

“C’mere,” he requested, holding an arm open and pulling you in once you got close enough. You could feel the shape of him pressed against you, making your cheeks flush as you let out a shaky exhale. 

“Sam?” you breathed as you cautiously rested your chin on his shoulder. 

“Hm?”

“We can’t let this affect us. Like, during camp hours,” you warned him weakly. You could picture him rolling his eyes. 

He was putting on an air of annoyance, but his tone was undeniably fond. “Yeah, yeah. Leave it to you to suck the fun out of something like this.”

A strange kind of embarrassment washed over you, urging you to ask, “Who said it can’t be fun?” 

“No one. Now shut up,” he instructed playfully, walking you back even further until you were wedged in the corner of the shower tightly enough that he could hitch your leg on his hip without the threat of you losing your balance. 

His lips, still clinging to the slight chill from outside, connected with your neck. He ran them up your jugular vein, no doubt feeling your erratic pulse against his sensitive skin, but you were too consumed to care if he knew. 

In fact, he probably should know. 

The edges of his teeth were sharp enough to sting a little as he dragged them over your collarbone. You could imagine the fuschia mark you’d be left with tomorrow morning - yellowed around the edges. You were already flicking through the list of made up excuses you’d dish out if you were questioned about it until his hand slipped up your side to cup your breast. 

He kneaded it in his palm as you threaded your fingers through his hair, holding his face to your chest and focusing only on his touch and the feeling of his rhythmic breaths hitting your wet skin. 

Like a one-two punch, he slowly sunk his teeth into the swell of your breast as his free hand slipped down your body to cup your ass. Once he had a good handful, he guided you forward until his thigh slipped between your legs. 

An embarrassing noise that you could only describe as a whimper escaped passed your pursed lips as you met the shape of his femur through the flesh and muscle. Encouragement in the form of a low hum brushed against the shell of your ear as he coaxed you into chasing the feeling. 

So, you did.

You were a little too self conscious to really go for it at first. Your instincts were telling you to prize sex appeal over your own pleasure, but that could only last for so long. Once the feeling started to build, you were clawing for it; you were desperate to see the height of it. 

His fingers were dug into your muscle, guiding you forward to grind against him in a way that would be too rough if it were anyone else. But this was Sam, and you didn’t think you could handle him being too sweet to you right now. 

You stuttered out his name, embarrassingly breathy and shaking, and in response, he mumbled something into your neck. You were positive it was an encouragement, but between the shower and the white noise in your brain, it sounded like static. 

Your toes curled as you started to come, leaving him supporting the vast majority of your weight - which, to his credit, he shouldered without letting you see the effort. It wasn’t until you were coming out of it that you realized you were holding onto him too tightly; you had to focus on relaxing your rigid muscles as he let your body rest against the shower wall. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you dragged your fingers down his body. His lashes fluttered as you wrapped your fingers around him, slipping him through your tightened fist. 

You could tell he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself, the same way you’d been just a few short moments ago. Wrapping your fingers in his hair, you coaxed him forward until he was leaning against you, his head hung so his cheek was pressed to yours. 

His breath, the warm water, and his body heat had you feeling like you were melting in a post-orgasm haze. Luckily, after a few strokes, your hand seemed to move on its own like muscle memory. 

You turned your face, nuzzling the bridge of your nose into his jawline and then kissing down to his neck. It must have felt nice, because he tilted his head, opening the space for you. As you lapped the flat of your tongue up the line of his artery, you could feel goosebumps form under your tastebuds, and soon after, they were littering his arms too. 

His breathing was steady until you tightened your grip - then it started to become increasingly more jagged. Every now and then, he’d let a groan slip that you otherwise would have missed, had you not had your mouth pressed directly to his throat. 

“Does that feel nice, Sam?” you asked, your own voice coming out raspy. He didn’t verbally respond, but he didn’t have to; you felt him pulse in your hand. “Are you gonna be nicer to me now?” 

You had been expecting the breathy laugh, but you hadn’t expected him to raise his hand to cover your mouth; you tried to squirm away from it, but he just shoved his first two fingers past your lips instead. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him smirking as he crowded in on you, rocking his hips with the movement of your arm every now and again. 

When he was about to come, he pulled his fingers out to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, turning your head to rest his forehead on yours. His heavy breathing breezed over your mouth as it became jagged, and then, he lost it. 

There was no way you could have processed it all in the moment, but you knew you’d be thinking about the feeling of his come painting your lower stomach for days after. 

He tried to pull himself out of the fog too quickly, lifting his head and going to take a step back, but you weren’t ready. You wriggled out of his grip and then looped your arms around his neck. He wasn’t sure how to respond as you held him tight to you until you felt him decide to relax. He placed his palm in the center of your back, rubbing comfortable circles as he recovered. 

When you finally pulled away, you made it a point to not completely meet his eyes, but you couldn’t purse back a smile as you passed the shampoo bottle to him. 

“Are you staying?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible once he stepped out onto the bathmat. You hadn’t expected him to, so it wouldn’t have been devastating if he hadn’t, and you certainly didn’t want him thinking he was doing you any favors. 

He looked upsettingly good as he raked his fingers through his long hair, tucking one side of it behind his ear so he could meet your eyes as he secured a towel around his waist. His reply was delivered with a challenging smirk. 

“Why would I?”

“You really wanna go all the way back to your own cabin?” 

He huffed a laugh that, for once, sounded genuinely charmed. “You mean the one that’s literally twenty feet from the door?” 

“Mhm. That one. What are you gonna do, go over there naked?” 

“Well, I did plan on wearing a towel,” he assured playfully. “Why, what do you suggest?” 

You pretended to think about it for a couple of short seconds. “You could just sleep here.” 

“Naked?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at you from across the room. When you nodded, he added, “You think it would be better for me to sneak over to my cabin naked in the morning than right now in the dark?” 

“To be honest, I don’t really care what consequences you suffer, but I think it would be nice to sleep next to someone tonight,” you admitted. 

He hummed in faux consideration. “Maybe you should text Josh. I bet he’d still answer.”

You glanced over to where your phone was drying out on the side table. Sam hadn’t said it in a malicious tone, so you weren’t sure how to proceed other than to challengingly quip, “What if I did?” 

He raised an eyebrow at you as if he were also trying to figure out if you were just joking with him. “Are you going to?” 

It was admittedly a little flattering to hear him ask you that. Obviously, you wouldn’t, but he didn’t really need to know that. You shrugged. “Thinking about it.” 

“That would be a great way to assure this never happens again.” 

He’d done a good job at keeping his tone light, but you knew the warning was serious. You smirked at him. “Then don’t leave.” 

His expression slipped into something stony and irritated as he slipped his sandals back on and grabbed his wet clothes. He didn’t say anything else before he headed for the door and let himself out. 

You released a long sigh and absently ran your fingers through your hair. You were careful to not let the grief settle into your chest as you pulled on your pajamas - you didn’t want to get sucked into it after such a pleasant couple of hours. 

You were just about to tuck into bed when you heard the front door open again. Padding to your bedroom doorway, you peeked around the frame to see Sam slipping his sandals back off. 

You hummed, pleased to see that he’d changed into something comfy. “Welcome back.” 

He shot you a warning look, nodding past you into your room. “Quiet. Get in bed.” 

An amused scoff escaped you, but you still turned around and did as he instructed. You weren’t even completely under the covers when he reached the side of your bed.

“Move over,” he grumbled, ushering you to the very corner where your mattress met the wall. You were grinning as he slipped in next to you and leaned over the side to flip off the light. 

As soon as he was back in place, you settled into his side, draping an arm over his chest, and triumphantly said, “Goodnight, Sam.” 

You couldn’t see it, but you knew he rolled his eyes at your goading tone. “You’re so annoying.”

You weren’t sure if he had intended to come back to your cabin as he was leaving, or if he got over to his own and decided, but you guessed it didn’t really matter. 

[darlingsfandom]

Can you write a small hurt/comfort about Cillian and the photographer reader just like the moodboard? Like, she tests his patience with her camera and he ends up snapping at her.

I sure can! Thank you 🩷

Excitement ran through your veins as you finished perfecting the lighting for the photo shoot. When you had heard the news that you were going to photograph the one and only Cillian Murphy you about killed over. It had to be a dream, but it wasn’t!

The soft breeze from the open window brought you back to reality as you stood in the middle of the room waiting for him to walk through the door at any moment. Your heart was thumping in your ears as you played with the buttons on your camera to get it to focus. The room suddenly smelled strongly of cologne when Cillian walked in and you swear your heart bursted into a million pieces. His lips were in a bit of a snarl when he walked in and his eyes were fixated on something.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you Mr. Murphy.” Your voice was bubbly as you put your best hand forward. Cillian looked at it then at you and back to your hand before he half assed shook it. He walked over to the middle of the room and scuffed a little before turning on his heel to look at you.

“Ya gonna stand ter all day or ya gonna do ya job?” He snapped at you making you quiver. You fumbled with your camera a little before holding still. Cillian was not what you had hoped for! He always looked cheerful, fun and you’ve even heard he’s a thrill to work with. This was not him! It couldn’t be him. Your fingers clicked the button as you turned the lens’s to get some different angles. His eyes were dark blue and dead as you snapped the photos. He looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than be here with you.

“Could you give me something a little different to work with please?” Your bottom lip pouted forward. Cillian rolled his eyes at you before sticking his hand in his pocket saying that it was good enough. You sighed a little bit before crouching down to get more angles. Cillian ran his fingers through his hair and sighed as he watched you work what magic you could. The room was stiff as you moved backwards to make a wider angle. Cillian made the same face over and over making you frustrated to the point you couldn’t help but blurt out “Can you pull the stick from your ass please?” Both of stood there with nothing to say.

The air felt hard to swallow. Your heart was swirling in your stomach and the tears that poked at the corner of your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. Cillian couldn’t help but feel a little bad. He was in a mood but he shouldn’t have taken it out on you, you were just doing your job. You sighed as you pulled your camera off of your neck and looked at him.

“Take a break.” You mumbled while flipping through the photographs. Cillian walked over to you and gripped your shoulder. His eyes had changed from angered tension to soft baby blues. You looked up at him with wet eyes before he spoke .

“I owe ya an apology. Yer not da one I’m mad at and yet ya gettin ta short end of ya stick.” Your lips twisted slightly before he sighed. Cillian ran his hand down your arm slowly before pulling you into a gentle hug.

“You know, I looked forward to working with you. You’re my absolute favorite and the way you treated me really broke my heart.” You spoke up at him as your hands rested on his back. Cillians face turned into disappointment and his own heart hurt at your words.

“I’m sorry , truly. Let’s finish and I’ll take ya for lunch! Or dinner , tis me treat!” His fingers ran through your hair slowly before tucking it behind your ear. Your lips curved into a soft smile.

“Make it both.” You chuckled making Cillian smile. He nodded slowly before picking up your hand and giving it a gentle kiss before he walked back to the set ready and better than before .

[nano--raptor]

Heart’s Desire

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Regency AU)

Words: 1185

Warnings: Romance, courting, masquerade ball, softness and feelings, implied smut, soft and vague smut, kissing, and Bucky just generally being a dream.

A/N: Written for the @the-ss-horniest-book-club for the Regency Theme Day! I’ll be honest, I don’t know much about the era, and I haven’t watched Bridgerton, but I had fun writing this little romantic story anyways. I was inspired by the amazing edit by @nix-akimbo featured in the moodboard, doesn’t Bucky look so gorgeous and regal?

Anyways, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!❤ Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Please note, I do NOT authorize my work to be copied, translated or reposted in ANY way.

18+ ONLY. This post contains mature subject matter. By clicking ‘keep reading’ you agree that you are 18+. Please do not interact if you are under the age of 18.

You smoothed your hands down your dress nervously, taking a breath before stepping into the room and meandering through the crowd. You exchanged pleasantries with some of the other patrons, tugging your gloves higher, thankful for the mask that covered part of your face. It was a nice way to mingle with many of the town’s socialites, a masquerade ball, and while it wasn’t the fanciest events with much of the pomp and circumstance of the royal families, many of the town’s upper and middle class citizens were able to attend. It was a nice escape from the drudgery of your uneventful, day to day life.

A passing attendant with a tray of champagne helped to calm your nerves, and you willed yourself to relax as the bubbles danced on your tongue. Would he be here? It was a silly question; of course he would. You were, however, starting to feel uncomfortable and a bit out of place, many of the other young women stood in groups with friends, or were paired off with other eligible bachelors for a dance. Just when you were thinking of finding a powder room to hide in, a warm hand settled on the small of your back, and you were swept into a man’s arms. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his low voice in your ear.

“May I have this dance?”

A smile spread on your lips as you turned to face him, his other hand taking yours as he pulled you close. 

“James,” you whispered. “You came.”

“Of course my darling, I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see you.” His blue eyes danced behind his mask, eyes you would recognize anywhere. They seemed to gaze into your soul, as if it was wide open and he could see all your secrets and desires. You smiled, feeling heat creep up to your cheeks, biting your lip, your heart fluttering when he raised your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against your knuckles. 

James led you around the dance floor, twirling you around and dipping you low. A smirk spread on his lips and you knew he longed to kiss you, before pulling you up again, making you giggle. The masquerade dances were your favorite, everyone wore their very best, masks fancy and beautifully decorated, and for an evening it was nice to sink into anonymity, where social classes and family lineages didn’t mean a thing.

It was easy to forget for an evening that you and James weren’t supposed to be together.

From the moment you’d first seen him, you were smitten. If his gorgeous eyes weren’t enough to win you over, his smile was one of the most beautiful you’d ever seen. He made your heart flutter, made you melt the first time he looked at you. He’d kissed your hand and asked your name, and for a moment you couldn’t even remember. Over time you’d grown close, and knew you couldn’t imagine life without him. Your heart couldn’t bear the thought. And yet, the Barnes family was prestigious, you knew James’s father wanted his sons to marry strategically, and your family didn’t make the cut.

James, however, didn’t seem to care. He’d told you one night, in a hushed whisper, that it was you who held his heart, and he would keep fighting to be with you until his last breath. You cried that night when he had to leave. James held a piece of your heart as well, there were no other men for you. He was the only one.

He held you close for the rest of the night, your hand on his shoulder, head leaning against his chest. For a few moments the rest of the room faded away, and you lost yourself in his warmth, his scent. Lost in him was your favorite place to be. 

At the end of the night you snuck away with him, eventually ending up in his bed once again. Here there were no prying eyes, no judgement, no rules. Here you and James could be together, unabashedly, truly sharing your love and passion. His name fell from your lips as he took you apart, showing you love the way no other man had, the way no other man could. And you gave yourself to him, fully and completely. You were his and he was yours.

As you lay wrapped in his arms afterwards, skin flushed and warm, a delightful bliss spreading through your body, he hummed, stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. He seemed to curl even more around you and you giggled, reaching up to kiss along his stubbled jaw.

“What is it, my love?” He was quiet for a moment, quieter than usual, as if thoughts clouded his mind. Just as you were about to shift in his arms and pry further, he spoke, a warm hand rubbing over your back.

“Never have I felt a stronger love for someone than I feel for you. You are my sun and my moon, my flowers in the spring and my snowflakes in the winter. I can’t imagine my life without you.” James pulled away slightly, tilting your chin up so he could gaze into your eyes once more. “I can’t wait any longer and have to ask you, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

For a moment you couldn’t speak, words escaped you as a million thoughts and feelings ran through you at once. Your eyes grew wide and you simply stared at him until everything caught up and you gasped, a wide grin spreading on your face as you squealed.

“James! Yes! Yes, of course!” He grinned back, kissing you hard, a carefree, sloppy kiss, and you wiggled in his arms, squirming even closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Oh my gosh. Are you… you really want me to be your wife?”

“Of course,” his voice softened and he trailed his fingers over your cheek and along your jaw, running his thumb over your lips before gently kissing them. “I would love nothing more.”

“But your father -”

“I don’t care what my father says.” His eyes sparkled dangerously, and the smirk on his lips made you giggle. He kissed you again, rolling you over and kissing you deeply before pulling back to gaze down into your eyes again. You reached up to trail your fingers over his cheek now, brushing his hair out of his face and tucking the soft locks behind his ear.

“You know he won’t leave it alone once he finds out. He’ll do everything he can to stop it.”

“Let him try,” James replied softly, leaning into your palm and turning to press his lips against it. “But don’t you worry my love, I won’t let anything happen to you, and I promise you, we’ll have our happily ever after.” Again, he was melting your heart. You smiled, blinking back tears of happiness as you whispered more words of love, and he leaned down to show you again just how much he loved you.

[im-poe-dameron]

Chapter Seven

A/N: She’s alive! It’s taken me quite awhile to get this chapter out and that’s probably due to the severe burn out I’m going through from school. But after weeks of writing and almost deleting this whole thing, I’ve finished it. It’s not what I consider my best writing, but I am quite happy with it overall.

Thanks to everyone who is sticking around to read my silly little story and lots of love for those of you who love it as much as I do.

There’s a few things I have to shout out cause two things were recently created for this story and I can’t tell you how much I utterly adore them! So apologies for this authors note that is going to take some time to get through.

So the lovely @walt-breslin​​ made Black Velvet a moodboard and I’m still FLOORED by it. Because the vibes are so accurate it makes me yearn for my own story. So thank you for that again darling! You can find that:

HERE

AND my best friend in the whole fucking world @aaliyasaurus​​​ came for my throat and gifted me an insanely gorgeous graphic for not only Black Velvet but Dazed and Confused as well. I’m literally still in shock. Babes you amaze me every fucking day. Thank you again (even though i’ve thanked you millions of times already). You can find them:

HERE

And without further ado I give you the chapter.

Summary: Things were going well, until a part of his past decides to show up again.

Word Count: 13.3k

Pairing: 1980s!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: settle in y’all cause it’s good. EXPLICIT AS FUCK SO SEE YOU THE FUCK LATER MINORS, cussing per usual, fluff, blow-job, cum eating/cum play, so many feelings it’ll drive you insane, angst, mentions of anxiety, violence which is surprising, alcohol consumption, mention of exhibitionism (it’s din there’s no explanation),  oral (f receiving), p in v sex. I think that’s everything but let me know if I missed something.

    There wasn’t much to be done in the mornings before the world woke up. The sun barely having risen, as the sounds of early New York traffic filtered in through the open window. It was its own kind of peace. Wandering around as the world just started their day, people rushing to jobs, others heading home from long nights. And then there was you. Clad in nothing but a black long sleeve, as you walked the apartment of the man who still continued to sleep.

    The sunlight came through the three very small windows he had, casting a warm glow on the scuffed hardwood floors as you walked them. A cup of warm coffee in your hands. Really you tried to make his coffee taste better, but there wasn’t much to be done. Not when it was bitter and nothing else, because he apparently didn’t believe in coffee creamer.

    How you managed to slip out of bed without him noticing went beyond your comprehension. He must have been exhausted from what happened yesterday, because by the time you managed to untangle yourself from his grasp, use the bathroom, and attempt to make coffee, you found him on his stomach, clutching the pillow you had used. You had to remind yourself to find a camera of sorts, because the image of him snuggling a pillow was priceless.

    The bar was not that far from the main city, but still you didn’t have time to borrow his car and pick up breakfast. So, you worked with what you had. The eggs in his fridge would do, and you silently thanked him for at least having the sense to pick that up. Maybe he did know how to cook after all. Another thing you'd have to add to the list, along with everything else you had learned about him.

    His son.

    That piece of knowledge still had your chest constricting, the feeling of anguish that wasn’t yours overwhelming you. If it wasn’t Din, if he wasn’t the man who somehow held a hold over you without you knowing, you would have run by now. Told yourself that you’d be better off not knowing him. And perhaps you would be. Perhaps all of this was just something to stave off the gut wrenching realizations about your life, about who you were as a person.

    But this was more, and that’s why you stayed. Why you cracked three eggs into a cereal bowl that was cracked slightly, and began to cook breakfast. Still listening to the sounds of the outside world. To how the birds called to one another.

    You could handle not mentioning his son, could shove it to the back of his mind and force yourself to focus on other things. Such as how you still had to ask him about the wedding. The fucking wedding. The one thing you feared he’d say no to, and then what? What would you do? Ask someone else to be your date?

    Maybe you could get Poe to agree to go with you if Din said no. Although that might end up in Din murdering Poe and you really didn’t need to be arrested...again. Why were you stressing over this again? After all, it's not like he said anything about it yet. He didn’t know about it. So, your only goal was to be the sweetheart he called you, to try and convince him to go with you.

    The eggs were scrambled to the best of your ability and you put them on a plate, the cup of bitter steaming coffee in your hand already. No one ever turned down breakfast in bed, and honestly you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. You found him just as he was; on his stomach with head buried in the pillow, snoring softly. Number one on your shopping list was most definitely going to be a camera.

    “Romeo?” you whispered, setting the coffee on his nightstand, before kneeling on the bed, the plate of eggs balanced in your hands.

    He groaned as a response. Definitely not a morning person.

    “Wake up,” you said, nudging him lightly. “I’ve got food for you.”

    Another groan, followed by him rolling over to where you had to straddle his waist in order to keep from spilling the plate. His arm was tossed across his face, another round of snoring hitting your ears and letting you know he was out. You reached over, setting the plate on the nightstand beside the coffee, before leaning back over him. If you had to wake him up nicely you would.

    “You’re stubborn.” You followed your words with a kiss to his chest, scraping your nails lightly against his skin until you felt him shudder. “I made you breakfast and you won’t even wake up to see it.”

    He grunted, hips shifting underneath you. “It’s too early.”

    Words. He was speaking. Meaning he must be semi awake, and that was enough for you. You figured it was worth a shot, and if he didn’t like it then he’d push you off the bed. That you wouldn’t put past him, but it was too tempting. Your tongue licked a trail along his tattoos, following the path of the vines until he was shuddering again underneath your palms. A word mumbled out in his language as you continued, biting lightly at the skin until small red marks began to show up.

    “Sweetheart,” he said, his morning voice nearly having you moaning yourself.

    Glancing up you met brown eyes clouded with sleep as he watched you. “You’re awake.” A kiss to his heart. “I thought I’d have to keep going until I reached your cock.”

    He jolted at the words. “I’ve been awake. Keeping an eye on you while you cooked in my kitchen.”

    A lie. The man was passed out on the mattress. Dead to the world, but you let him have this, smiling against his chest.

    “Had to make sure you didn’t burn my apartment down.” His hand cupped the back of your neck, dragging you up towards him until his lips met yours, and that was it. 

    The feeling you’d been searching for all morning. The pure rush of emotions that filled your body until you were practically lighthearted. This man knew how to make you float, all the while keeping you on the ground. You weren’t sure yet how he did it, how he left you relentlessly wanting more until you were practically ready to beg. One of these days you’d have to ask him.

    “Contrary to belief. I do know how to cook,” you mumbled.

    He breathed out a laugh, lips slotting against yours again, languidly kissing you until the breath left your lungs. You could remain like this for hours. Just you and him in this room. In the small sanctuary you’d created for yourselves. The world could end and you were sure neither one of you would notice. Not until the fire was burning around you, until the building fell apart and ruined your haven.

    “It smells-oh fuck-good.” He lifted his head when you reached his hips, biting at the skin until he jolted. “Sweetheart,” he panted out. “What are you doing?”

    You hummed, not bothering with answering just yet. You’d never done this with him. Tasted him. He had his share more times than you could count, and you didn’t mind, but fuck if you didn’t want to taste him. Tugging on the briefs he wore, you met his eyes noticing the dazed look in them. You could see he wasn’t used to this. Wasn’t used to being taken care of this way without expecting to do anything in return.

    How did he look so fucking pretty?

    He must have a gene in his body that allowed him to wake up beautiful. Of course he would. The man doesn’t even know how pretty he looks. You were on the verge of telling him, of showing him all your favorite parts and explaining why. And you’d start with those eyes of his.

    “I’m having breakfast,” you teased, seeing the flash in his eyes as he raised his hips to let you pull him out completely, the hissed out breath when you wrapped a hand around him better than you imagined. “Can I?”

    You had to ask. He always asked with you and you found that you loved it more than anything, so when you posed the question you just expected a yes. Or perhaps a nod. But his hand grasping your jaw to drag you back up to his lips, the broken sound tearing from his throat as your tongue licked into his mouth, was unexpected.

    “Yes,” he panted out, his lips pink and swollen. A sight you wanted to keep in your memory forever. You seriously needed a damn camera.

    He kept his eyes on you as you shifted down his body, the breakfast now forgotten about as you pumped him once, eager to watch as he fell apart because of you. The view was one you’d never get tired of, but seeing his eyes flutter shut, head tilted back and a sound that had you clenching around nothing, was something different. This was him losing himself in a different piece of you. Losing himself in what you were giving him.

    “So pretty,” you mumbled, tongue peeking out to taste him.

    “I’d have to-oh fucking shit-” he hissed sharply through his teeth as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, tongue pushing against the underside of it.

    “You’d have to what?” you asked, pulling off him and watching his eyes zero in on the spit that was smudged on your bottom lip.

    How had you not done this sooner? 

    You understood it now. Why he always wanted to reduce you to a mess of absolute pleasure. Someone who couldn’t see past the haze that he had concocted and now it finally made sense, because nothing felt better than watching his dazed eyes watch as you enjoyed his taste.

    “You’re going to be the death of me sweetheart.”

    You smiled, hand pumping him slowly and deliberately to where he was shaking from the euphoria of nothing but your touch. “Do you want me to stop?”

    “No!” He coughed, the tinge of red on his cheeks and ears prominent enough for you to tell how he felt. “I mean-please-if you want to-”

    His words shifted into a moan as you wrapped your lips around him again, hand continuing to pump him with every inch you enveloped in the wet warmth of your mouth. You wanted this to last. Every second that you got to watch him fall apart all from your mouth, but you saw the way his body began to tense. The stuttering moans turning to breathy sounds. Each one more sinful than the last.

    “Fuck baby,” he grunted out, hips jolting upwards when you began to fondle his balls. 

    You didn’t mean to gag, but the blunt tip of his cock pressing against the back of your throat forced it. Only that seemed to spur him on further, a growl tearing from his throat as he reached to place a hand on your head, guiding you through the movements. Breathing through your nose you swallowed around him, feeling your lower body practically bear down on nothing as a whine echoed off the walls. He was gone. Utterly ripped to shreds with every bob of your head.

    “Sweetheart-fucking perfect-sucking my cock and still looking beautiful-”

    He needed to shut up fast, because you were five seconds away from shoving your hand in your underwear and finishing yourself off with him. Really it didn’t seem like such a bad idea, but this wasn’t about you. The morning sun began to completely shine through the curtains letting you know what time it was and that this wouldn’t last much longer.

    You wanted to take him apart slowly, delicately. Until he couldn’t remember his own name, but you felt the way his body tightened. The rambling words having turned to nothing but low grunts and moans of your name, because he was five seconds away from breaking. Tightening your grip slightly you pumped him faster, sucking on the head of his cock until you felt it. The way his thighs shook under you, his hand on your head now digging into your shoulder as a sound you’d never heard him make echoed through the room.

    “Baby I’m going to-” He got cut off by your hum, the knowledge that you wanted this. You wanted to drink him down as he had done to you many times before. “Fuck!” he shouted, a cry of your name following soon after as the taste of him filled your mouth.

    You didn’t expect him to taste like that, especially with all the alcohol the two of you consumed, but then you realized he barely drank. In fact, he only drank with you. Moaning you continued to run your tongue over him, cleaning up what you’d missed, hand still pumping him until his shot down to still your movements. You were so focused on prolonging his pleasure you failed to notice the completely fucked out look on his face. His mouth slightly parted as he panted, cheeks tinged red along with his chest.

    Oh you fucking loved that look.

    “You’re going to suck the soul out of my body baby,” he mumbled drunkenly, the dazed look in his eyes more than you could take.

    Why hadn’t you done this before? No wonder why he was always adamant on you coming apart on his tongue first. It felt like you were floating on cloud nine with him. You moved to climb off, but his hands gripped your hips, forcing you to sit on his thighs as he slowly sat up with you.

    “I want to do that again,” you replied, lips brushing against his and if the way he shut his eyes and took in a shuddered breath told you anything. He liked what he heard.

    “Give me a few minutes. I don’t want you to actually suck the soul out of my body.”

    Reaching over you grabbed the plate of eggs and the now semi cold cup of coffee. “Death by blow job. That’ll be a new one.”

    “A story to tell our friends, that's for sure.”

    Our friends. Our. He might not have realized what he said, because he was half dazed from the orgasm or too focused on the plate of eggs, but you heard him loud and clear. It may not be a big deal. Except it was to you. The fact that he didn’t call them his friends, or merely customers at the bar, but that he considered them a part of both of your lives.

    “I’m sure Poe would get a kick out of it.” You pushed the hair that was stuck to his forehead away from his face, smiling at the look he gave you.

    He set the half empty plate back on his nightstand. “Poe is already traumatized by us. I don’t think he needs to know that fact.”

    That’s true. Poe knew more about your sex life from simply being near you and Romeo than anyone should actually know. Although you had to blame that on the fact that the both of you were insatiable for one another. That and Romeo seemed to be completely content with having you anywhere at any time. You knew that you had become as bad as he was, but you blamed that on hormones and the irresistible charm of the man in front of you.

    Yes. His charm. That’s what did it.

    “Want to tell me what I did to deserve breakfast in bed with a blowjob?” he asked, hands sliding up your back to press you closer to him.

    You sighed, hands tangling in his slightly messy hair. “Can’t a girl make her…”

    Well shit. The morning had been calm, without any bothers, and yet there were those words. The ones that felt strange to say but in every other way felt completely right. What were you? The conversation both of you seemed to ignore for as long as this started happening. Was he your boyfriend? Were you his girlfriend? Had things progressed this much to where you could now finally admit those feelings to one another? So many unanswered questions and it seemed he was as nervous as you when it came to searching for those answers.

    But maybe...he wasn’t.

    “Her boyfriend?”

    The air caught in your lungs, an unknown feeling beginning to spread from your chest to what felt like the very tips of your fingers and toes. He had said it. The one thing you wanted, but was too afraid to say so, and maybe it was a mistake to admit it. To finally say you wanted this man who drove you insane in all the best ways possible to be with you. For as long as either of you wanted.

    “Are you sure?” you asked, the hesitancy clear in your voice. Was he sure about this? Were you?

    “Poe called you my girlfriend the other day.” His hands ran along your back, almost as if he was trying to reassure you of this situation, of the decision you were both about to make.

    You nodded, hands cupping his face. “He did.”

    “And I couldn’t figure out why it wasn’t true yet.”

    He was really going to say it. Tell you that he wanted you as more than whatever this happened to be. So, why were you terrified? Why did you feel as though everything would fall apart after this? Perhaps you were being irrational. The fear of jumping into something new was clouding your vision of what this could be, but even you knew that it was more than that. Him. You. This relationship, friendship, whatever you called it. It was more.

    “Romeo, are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?” you asked, unable to stop the smile from forming on your lips.

    “Give me a chance to say it sweetheart.”

    “Well I don’t know I might have to say it for you-” You yelped as he tossed you on your back, practically crushing you as he lay on top of you. Expecting his signature glare you were surprised to see him smiling, his eyes no longer dazed or riddled with exhaustion.

    To say he had grabbed your attention was an understatement. “Will you let me say it?”

    You nodded, keeping your mouth shut as you tried to ignore the way your heart hammered in your chest. Fuck could he feel it? The way that your stomach twisted when he brushed his lips against yours. You’d think that after weeks of this, of having him long for you with every passing minute, you’d be used to having him this close. But it still felt like the first time. And maybe that was a good thing.

    “Sweetheart,” he murmured, nose brushing against yours, smiling when you took a shuddered breath. “Will you be mine?”

    His. He wanted you to be his. You could recall the first time he said it. The reaction was almost involuntary. As if he said it before he could think about the words that spilled out of his mouth. Except this wasn’t that.

    “I’ve always been yours Din.” Kissing him didn’t feel like enough, didn’t feel like it would show the emotion you’ve been holding inside you for weeks on end.

    “Say it again,” he said, his voice cracking at the end.

    “I’m yours.”

    It felt easier than breathing to whisper those two words over and over again. Repeating it for as long as he needed to hear it. Because this felt right. Felt like you finally found a missing piece that you didn’t know you were searching for. And maybe Din had been it all along. Maybe you had to survive the hurdles, the pain, every agonizing minute in order to find your way to him. To find your way here.

    His lips met yours and you knew that leaving the room wasn’t an option anymore. But it was okay, because if given the choice between being anywhere else and being here in bed with him. You’d choose Din, every time.

    “Five fucking dollars! I bet you five dollars you can’t drink all of it.” Poe stood on a chair, shouting across the bar at Paz who was currently in the middle of pouring his sixth shot of whiskey. How he was still standing you didn’t know, but you had to hand it to him. He knew how to handle his drinks.

    “Five dollars? That’s it Dameron?” he shouted, downing yet another shot. “You’re a cheap ass!”

    “Twenty.” You turned at the sound of Din placing his bet. 

    Normally he didn’t condone people placing bets in his bar, let alone the chaos that was happening now. But you wanted to wager that the two extra hours you spent in bed nearly coming apart at the seams from his tongue had something to do with it. You were his girlfriend. Din Djarin’s girlfriend. Romeo’s girl. You couldn’t fathom how it happened. Didn’t understand it fully, because you were pretty sure you’d left this realm and entered another one the second it happened. You still had yet to tell anyone else, but that didn’t seem to matter. Not when it felt this intense between the two of you.

    “Fifty,” you said, eyebrow raising as you bit your lip to stifle the smile.

    “Shit Djarin your girl’s going to top your wager.”

    He tossed the towel on the bar, his eyes never leaving yours. “One hundred.”

    Was it wrong to admit that you wanted him at that moment? Probably. Get it together. You were about to have your wager topped, and while you didn’t much care about that, you were adamant on keeping whatever was happening between you and him going. Only to keep it going meant to prolong the tension between the both of you and he’d already dragged you to the storage room once. His hand was down your jeans faster than you could ask him what was wrong.

    One hundred dollars. You’d say that was a fair wager.

    “You win Romeo,” you said, leaning closer to him, your hand brushing against his thigh. “Go for it Paz.”

    The cheers echoed in the background, but you weren’t focused on the fact that Paz was downing shots like water. Or that Poe had taken another step upward and was now standing on a table, a bottle of vodka in his hand. No, you were focused solely on the man who had cupped your chin, tilting your head back to kiss you slowly. The chaos of the bar now an afterthought, because you were burying your hands in his hair to drag him closer, as you sucked on his tongue.

    “Storeroom?” he asked through a broken kiss, his hands grasping at your ass to drag you closer.

    “You want people to hear us Romeo?”

    He laughed, forehead resting against yours. “I have no problem with it. Let the man sitting at the bar who’s been eyeing you know that you’re my girl.”

    Why the fuck did that make your whole lower body tighten up? The warm rush of heat at the base of your spine now spreading through your body the longer you contemplated his words. Was it simply the act of him being possessive of you that had you ready to bend over the bar? You had it bad for him.

    “I didn’t see a guy.”

    Din glanced over your head to see that Paz had finished his shots and was doing a victory lap around the bar. You laughed, noticing that sometime in the night he had changed from his usual black t-shirt to a light blue crop top. Whoever that belonged to wasn’t going to want that back. Not after he most likely spilled half a bottle of whiskey on it.

    “He must have left.”

    You hummed, turning back to him. “How much do you want to bet the kiss was the reason he left.”

    “If I keep making bets with you sweetheart I’m going to end up broke.”

    The single shot of vodka you had earlier must have been why you let the next few words slip, but it’s not like you weren’t thinking about it the whole time. Din might be willing to take risks, but he had yet to learn about how far you’d be willing to go. Fucking in the bar in front of people had become the least of your worries.

    “One more bet,” you said, no longer bothering with the noise of the bar and wishing that it was just you and him and a bottle. He sighed, the smile on his face giving away everything. “Fifty bucks says that I can get you off right here without a single person noticing.”

    He visibly choked on air, his eyes widening as he coughed. “Sweetheart-”

    “You up for it Romeo?” If he was willing you’d do your best to win the bet, but even you knew this was meant to be nothing more than a tease. Except then his eyes narrowed, lips curling upwards as he dragged your hand closer to the zipper on his jeans.

    “Someone has to keep them distracted.”

    Oh fuck.

    Turning you faced Paz who was practically swaying on his feet. “I bet that Poe can’t do the same amount of shots!”

    He spun to Poe who was sitting on the table that had five people in chairs around it. You’d seen them here before and guessed they were friends of his. One of these days you would have to say hi. Poe glanced towards you, a bottle of vodka placed in between his legs and an empty shot glass in his hand. He didn’t have to take the bet. Didn’t have to give you a stroke of luck, but he must have been pretty gone already because he smiled, nodding his head in agreement.

    “Same amount,” Din said, already dragging you to the very corner behind the bar that was thankfully blocked by people who were beginning to crowd around Poe.

    You were really about to do this. You were about to get your boyfriend off in the middle of his bar, and you were going to love every second of it. What had this man done to you? Your hand tugged at his belt, arm slinging around his neck to look like you and him were doing nothing but embracing. Another round of cheers went through the bar, causing you to smile, because you finally understood.

    Why he chose a bar out of all places to make his home.

    “What are you smiling at?” he asked, his lips curling up slightly in a smile that he looked to be fighting.

    “I just-” Another cheer followed by Poe shouting he was a champion. “I get it now. Why you wanted to make this place your home.”

    You thought you saw something come across his eyes, something akin to pain. But it was gone within a moment. Only a flash of the man that truly lay underneath the armor. The man you continued to attempt to bring out into the modern world; to convince that you refused to go anywhere. Not after what’s happened.

    “Sweetheart-” The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the cheers turning to screams, a bang echoing in the air as people began to sprint towards the door.

    Din shoved you behind him, his eyes already searching the crowd for something gone wrong, and you figured it was Poe. Maybe he fell on accident. Maybe they all saw a wild animal. Yeah that had to be it. A wild animal somehow got into the place. You ran around the bar to find Din amidst the chaos but stopped at the sight of a silver weapon heading in your direction.

    “Shit!” You acted quickly, dropping to the ground. The unmistakable sound of metal hitting wood echoing behind you. What the fuck was going on? “Romeo?”

    “Y/N!”

    Din.

    Grabbing onto the person’s hand you got ready to throw yourself into Din’s arms but was met with the brown eyes of Poe instead. The drunk look in his eyes now faded, shadowed by something else. Something darker. Fear buried itself in your gut, your heart going haywire and you tried to find him. Find the man who you couldn’t lose, and just as you saw him helping someone up from under a table that was nearly knocked over, you heard it. The cold, spine chilling voice of her.

    “She’s pretty Mando!”

    Din’s eyes met yours, his fear replaced by a look you hadn’t seen him wear since they came to the bar. Fury. Enough to have you turning away. He was utterly furious that they had come back, that they dared to cross the threshold of his home. And you could feel it come off of him in waves. They were dead. Poe tugged you behind the bar, taking a stance in front of you, his knife already in his hand. You didn’t even know he carried one.

    “Get to him,” you said softly, nodding your head in Din’s direction.

    “Paz is with him.”

    There’d be no way Paz could help with this. Not after the amount of alcohol he drank, but that’s what you thought about Poe and here he was ready to fight. What was it about bikers and being able to hold their liquor? You would have to ask them later, but right now you were watching as two unknown men stalked towards Din. It wasn’t until you saw the guns in their hands did you realize that this wasn’t a simple sit down and talk like before.

    “Get out of my bar,” Din said, his voice sharper than the blade on Poe’s knife.

    Ten seconds. That’s all you had. Ten seconds before someone pulled a trigger, and in that miniscule amount of time you did your best to come up with something. Anything to stop shit from turning sideways. You’d never been in this situation before; didn’t know what would work, but Din had a gun being held to his face and you could feel a different whirlwind of emotions begin to surface. He was in danger.

    Din was in danger.

    “There’s no need to make a mess now is there Mando.” The man’s voice sounded irritating already. But that might have been the anger. “I’ve heard about what you can do. Is it true? You’re the best bounty hunter they had?”

    Bounty-

    You froze, listening to the words being tossed around as if they were nothing. Bounty hunter. And it felt like every puzzle piece had fallen into place, all the times you speculated on his past but never truly came up with a solid answer. One that would define the man he used to be. He couldn’t possibly be a bounty hunter. Except maybe that’s why he never found your joking speculations to be funny, because...they were true.

    His eyes were on you before you could turn in his direction, and the cloud of fear had returned. But for a different reason. Din was afraid you would leave him after this. After figuring out his past, and that’s why he never told you. The tightening of your gut began to lighten up. This was him. The Din Djarin before the bar, before he tried to make himself better. The bounty hunter Mandalorian, and you knew that after tonight things would be different. Knew he’d be waiting for you to walk out the door and never return, but you couldn’t.

    Not when he was so tied to you that it would physically pain you to leave.

    Turning away you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, because only one thing mattered. The woman Xi’an stood on the other side of the bar, her gaze focused on you and you alone. Because she wanted to kill you. Already the understanding had come over you. What you didn’t know is why would she bring two other men not even Din knew to finish the job.

    “Going somewhere sweetheart,” she called out, her voice the equivalent to cat claws sinking into your skin.

    Ignore her.

    Ignore her.

    You chanted it in your head, continuing to contemplate your rather stupid plan. Get into the storeroom. That’s all you needed and from there you’d be in the clear. Well not exactly, but getting into the storeroom was the only part of the plan you had worked out. You could rip out the woman’s purple hair later.

    “Tell me. Does he fuck you the way he used to fuck me?”

    Or now.

    Now seemed like the perfect time. You caught sight of Din turning in your direction through your peripheral vision, but that didn’t seem to trouble you. Not when you were happily picturing what it would be like to have the bitch in front of you begging on her knees. She could insult you all she wanted, but going for that part of your life was off limits. Not to mention it left you with a bad taste in your mouth.

    “Xi’an! We’re not here for petty fighting. Boss gave us a job to do.”

    They were here on a job. Did that make Din the job? She turned to the man who currently held a gun at Paz, beginning to yell in a language you didn’t understand. But it gave you enough time to slip away from where you stood. Ten seconds were up, which means someone would shoot. Worst case scenario they kill the man you know you were falling for, and well the best case would be they underestimate that same man and watch as he loses his shit. You could bet that Romeo was five seconds away from killing them.

    Which is why you had to work fast.

    “Where the fuck is it,” you muttered, skidding to a halt in the center of the storeroom. And against the wall, sat the prettiest sight you’d seen in ages.

    Sure you were against them, and nearly made Romeo toss it out, but in situations like this the gun leaning propped up against the wall practically made you sing. The box of bullets was on the shelf above it, and you thankfully knew enough to load it. Messily, and you almost dropped half the box, but you did it. Taking a breath you began to understand what you were about to do. The stupidest decision in your life, but it had to be done.

    Shouting had erupted once more back in the bar and when you walked in you found Din on his knees, hands behind his head as he glared daggers at the man in front of him. Fury didn’t even begin to describe what emotions waged war within your body. Enough anger to kill. They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, and these assholes were about to find out if the statement held up.

    “Hey dipshits.” The sound of the gun being loaded caught their attention and had them quickly turning to face in your direction. “Get the fuck out of my boyfriend’s bar.”

    You counted the seconds in the silence as everyone stared at the one they underestimated the most as a threat. And you got to exactly twenty before a different kind of chaos began. Din lunged at the man, grappling for his gun as Poe leaped over the bar, taking on man number two. Which left you with the purple haired menace herself. It seemed she liked this option more than you did, and you knew she could sense your inexperience with fighting.

    It was true. You had never held a gun before this night. Never got into a fight, and now you were doing both simultaneously. To say you needed a drink after this was an understatement. She moved in your direction, knife flipping delicately in her hands, and you were suddenly glad for one thing. Playing baseball for those few months in college may have sucked, but if there was one thing they said you were good enough at, it was pitching. For one simple reason.

    Aim.

    The shot went off before she could blink and the shout she let out as her knife clattered to the floor left you satisfied. Din was afraid of letting you in on his past, because he thought you would run for the hills. When in fact you were jumping into the action, doing whatever you could to help him.

    “You bitch!” She moved to fling her second knife, but it landed behind the bar shattering a bottle on it’s way there. You didn’t shoot that time. Except you had an idea who it was responsible and sure enough there stood Romeo, gun covering half his face as he held it in her direction. The look in his eyes, enough to have you stepping back.

    “Step away from my girlfriend.”

    She sneered, moving closer instead of farther away. “You know Mando. You used to be a lot more fun before you fell in love.”

    “You used to be a lot less of a bitch. Before you tried to kill my girl.”

    Cursing at your heart for flipping in your chest, you focused on the woman who looked like she would lunge at Din. And while he had his finger on the trigger, you knew he wouldn’t kill her. Wouldn’t harm anyone unless needed, because while they called him a bounty hunter you knew that he left that behind. He said he wanted to start over for a reason.

    So, you did the only logical thing you could do.

    You turned the gun, raised it and whistled in Xi’an’s direction, forcing her to turn towards you. Din looked like he nearly dropped the gun he was holding at the sight of you slamming the butt your gun into her nose. And really you wouldn’t blame him if he did. Even you were surprised at what you were doing. She collapsed instantly, her nose most likely broken; blood trailing down her face.

    Was it a mistake? Probably. But then you saw his face, and knew you’d done the right thing.

    “Sweetheart…” he whispered, eyes still wide from watching you knock someone out with a gun.

    “Are you okay?”

    You got ready for him to take the gun. To tell you that it was dangerous for you to even be within five feet of it. You certainly didn’t expect him to start laughing. His head fell back, hand clutching his stomach, as he laughed in a way that even you hadn’t seen him laugh before. One that had you joining him in a matter of moments. Neither of you cared that there were three unconscious people in his bar, or the fact that you were in danger merely a few minutes ago. You just cared that he was alive; he was safe.

    “You just knocked out someone and you’re asking me if I’m okay.”

    You shrugged, setting the gun down carefully on the bar. “Are you?”

    “Y/N.” Your name falling from his lips startled you. It wasn’t sweetheart, or baby, or even cyar’ika. It was your name and you couldn’t recall him having ever called you by your first name. “Come here.”

    He didn’t need to tell you twice. The urge to fall into him was there the second the danger began; even more so now. Had your heart been racing this fast the entire time? How were you not shaky in that situation? For fucks sake you held a gun. You held a...gun. Your mind couldn’t wrap around that fact even for a moment, because it seemed too ridiculous to comprehend. How did things get to that point?

    “I held a gun,” you said against his chest, trying to count the beats of his steady heart. Hoping that it would calm you down.

    “Thank you.” He whispered it against your hair, his breath hitting your skin as he let out one that he must have been holding.

    He was thanking you…

    What did he have to thank you for? If the roles were reversed and you were in his position, he would have done the exact same thing. After all you do stupid things when you’re in love. Holy. Shit. You nearly fell back out of his arms as the one word you seemed to be terrified of crossed your mind. Love. Love? How the fuck could you already be in love. You’d only known the man for a short time.

    It had to be a fluke. The adrenaline of the fight talking, because you could have very well lost your life tonight. No, you absolutely weren’t in love, you just held strong feelings for the man. And thought about him all the time...and about the future you could have with him. Well fuck.

    “Need help cleaning up?” you asked, trying to get your mind off everything that just transpired. Even if it took you wiping down glasses for hours.

    He huffed out a laugh. The sound familiar and warm. “Sure cyar’ika. I’d love some.”

    “Djarin, you owe me one hundred dollars.” Paz managed to walk straight in your direction, his eyes still dazed and words slightly slurred. He must have had more than one bottle to drink tonight. “I’ll be on my way after that.”

    You snorted. “Paz you can barely walk.”

    “Says you.”

    Yeah he was gone.

    “Can one of you take this drunk bastard home?” Din asked, handing you a towel with a small pat to your ass that had you jumping away with a laugh. “I’ll pay you.”

    The grumble of agreements was reluctant to say the least, but what could you expect. Getting Paz to go home meant they’d have to somehow get him on their bike. But you were pretty sure you saw a car parked outside that didn’t belong to Din or Poe. One guy slung Paz’s arm over he shoulder, the slurred question of what the fuck they were doing spilling from his lips as he was practically dragged away.

    “That’s the last time I let him drink that much.” Din shook his head, another laugh leaving his lips. For someone who had multiple guns held to his head on the same night, he seemed pretty calm.

    You wondered if it was just a front for the guys here. Or if he truly felt okay with what happened. And if so...why?

    It took three guys and Poe holding Paz’s winning cash within seeing distance, but eventually they got him into the backseat of the car. All the while he continued to shout about how much he loved Din and how much he wanted to come back and do this again. You had to grip Din’s hands in your own to stop him from flipping off his friend. But eventually it came down to just you and him as always. The chaos of the night now a stark silence.

    Neither of you had bothered with the jukebox, and honestly the thought of music gave you a headache on its own. Because you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. Couldn’t get the image of Din on his knees, hands behind his head, out of your mind. It was burned behind your eyelids. The anxiety of the moment, of the night, still coursing through your veins, and you didn’t see it wearing off anytime soon.

    Which is probably why you had already cleaned nearly every table and began to stock inventory for tomorrow night.

    “Are you okay?” His voice coming from directly behind you had you nearly dropping the bottle you were holding.

    “Shit don’t scare me like that.” Except him sneaking up on you hadn’t scared you this much before.

    His hands covered yours, taking the bottle and setting it lightly near the sink. “I’m sorry.”

    “You don’t have to apologize for that. My heart is just all over-”

    “No. I’m sorry for what happened tonight.” His words caught you off guard, the weight of them heavy in the air as you finally watched his armor fall to the ground. It only happened for you, when the both of you were alone, and you were grateful that it did, because now you could see him. See your Din rather than the one the others knew.

    He was apologizing for putting you in danger, for being the cause of all of this, and for nearly losing you. Except even you knew there was no need for an apology. Not when he didn’t do anything but try to protect the people here, protect you. All before he even bothered to protect himself.

    “Din-”

    His thumb covering your lips cut you off. “Yes I have to apologize sweetheart. They were here because of me.”

    “But you didn’t know they would come.”

    Silence.

    Did he know they would come? Is that why he was beating himself up about this? Ready to beg for your forgiveness over it.

    “I figured it would happen sooner or later. I just didn’t expect you to be here when it did.”

    “So you planned to face them alone. With no help.”

    He nodded, eyes looking at your hands rather than at your face, because he knew it was stupid. Knew that to await them alone meant his death, or even worse. He wanted to be here alone when it happened, and you couldn’t understand why. Couldn’t come up with a reason as to why he felt the need to face this threat alone. When he had an entire family of people to help him when he most needed it.

    “You’re an idiot Din Djarin.” He looked up, startled by your words. “I know you like to think you’re alone in this. Like to believe you have no one, but that’s bullshit and you know it. You have a family and whether you want them or not, they’re here for you...I’m here for you.”

    Maybe it was stupid to admit it, but he had to hear it. Had to understand that everyone here tonight was ready to put their lives at risk for this man. Because they cared for him.

    “I mean fuck even Poe protected you, which means he must really like you after what-” He yanked you closer, hand wrapping around the back of your neck as he slotted his lips over yours in a kiss that had your knees turning weak.

    He waited long enough for this.

    Or maybe that was you.

    “I’m going to tell you why they were here,” he mumbled against your lips. “What I was. I think...that it’s time.”

    Pulling away before you could even get a word in, he grabbed a bottle of the half finished whiskey you were working on and headed towards a table. This was really happening. He was going to divulge a part of himself to you, and all you could do was stand there. Why were you just standing there? Move, you shouted to yourself, forcing your legs to head in his direction, before you plopped in a chair opposite to him.

    “I was a bounty hunter,” he said, pouring you a glass and pushing it your way.

    “What does that mean exactly?”

    He smiled, downing his glass quickly. “I used to bring in people who owed my boss money.”

    “Alive?”

    Hesitation is all it took to give you the answer. Sometimes they weren’t always alive. Which means the man across from you had in fact killed people. Why weren’t you running for the hills right now? Usually if someone says they have committed murder, you run. Sprint for the door. This is why he took so long to tell you, because he was afraid you’d leave. But instead you met his eyes, calculated the fear in them, and reached for the bottle. Pouring him another glass.

     Letting him know that whatever he told you tonight, you were still all in.

    “Who was your boss?”

    He coughed. “For your safety and mine...let’s call him Moff.”

    “Moff...strange name. Is that his first or last name?”

    “It’s more of a title.”

    “It’s still strange.”

    “Sweetheart-”

    You held up your hands in surrender. “Alright sorry. Continue please.”

    “He wasn’t by all means good. Actually he wasn’t good at all. But that’s besides the point. I made some stupid mistakes when I was younger...got a few people in trouble including myself and it ended badly. Which is how I became a bounty hunter for him.” He took a sip, allowing you to digest the information. “The crew I ran with at the time, that were bikers, ended up being dragged in with me.”

    “Is that why they were here? To bring you back to that man?”

    He shook his head. “No, no as far as I know they got out when I did. Managed to buy their freedom while I worked for it until I couldn’t anymore.”     “Couldn’t anymore?” Not the time. You saw his expression and immediately backtracked, because that was a story for a different time. One you’d wait to hear. “So why were they here tonight?”

    “They’re probably pissed I dragged them into that situation. Wanted to get their revenge somehow. And that job they offered...it’s bullshit. I called someone last night to find out what it was. Nothing but a way to get me out of here.”

    “So they showed up tonight expecting you to be…”

    “Alone.” He took a sharp breath in, already knowing you knew what he would say next. “But then they met you sweetheart. And knew that well you were...you were important to me.”

    They came here for you. To hurt him. That’s what you couldn’t wrap your head around, because it seemed insane for that to be real. For him to find you important in his life. Vital enough to fight for. But there it was, staring you in the face. Din cared for you, more than he had told you and suddenly, your nerves were on fire for a different reason.

    He cared for you. A lot. Maybe even enough to utter that fateful word that changed lives. But not tonight.

    Not when that had happened.

    “Thank you,” you said.

    “For what?”

    “For telling me.” You glanced at your barely touched glass of whiskey. “I know it’s not easy talking about your past. So, thanks for letting me in on some part of it.”

    Getting up, you downed the glass and set it down gently. What you really needed was some food and a shower to clean off the dirt and grime of the night. But you still had to finish stocking bottles. So, you pressed a kiss to his lips and headed towards the jukebox to play a song to hopefully lighten the mood. To let him know that life could go back to normal, because you were okay. You weren’t upset, or scared of him, you were just happy you were both alive.

    “I’m going to make a snack. You want anything?” you asked.

    He shook his head, tossing the towel over his shoulder. “No, I'm okay.” The leftover pasta Poe brought earlier sounded delicious and you had half a mind to run upstairs, but Din’s arm around your waist stopped you. “Thank you for staying,” he said.

    The same words as last night, the same ones that solidified everything about this situation. Why you didn’t run out the door. Why you continued to come back day after day. Because Din meant more than you liked to believe. Had your heart in his hands, just as you had his; a blind trust that you placed in one another the day you met. Stupid enough to say you’re the one I choose to give you this important piece of myself to, in hopes that he’d keep it safe.

    “I’m not going anywhere Din.”

    And you meant it.

    Because he’d kept that part of you safe. Ever since you walked drunkenly into his bar.

    Three in the morning is always an odd time to be awake. You supposed it wasn’t too odd for Din, seeing as how he was a bartender and four in the morning is usually when he closed down the bar. Yet everyone had left two hours ago, and you were still awake. Listening to him shuffle around downstairs as he got things ready for the next night. A familiar routine that you knew by heart now, that you welcomed every night, because while he was nocturnal, Din certainly was interesting at night.

    It seemed that all his worries, stress, and well even his moral compass vanished around two in the morning. Which left a relaxed version of him by three.

    Hearing his voice calling your name, you headed out of the storeroom where you were busy counting bottles, to see him wiping down the bar. Rather thoroughly. You figured it had spilled alcohol and maybe even a bit of blood from earlier on it, so you didn’t see anything odd about this sight.

    “Can you grab the trash?” he asked, shifting to the right.

    “Sure.”

    You were certain he had tossed it earlier, but again it didn’t seem like anything odd. After all, you did recall saying you were the best at taking out the trash at one point. You had to hold up that title.

    You didn’t catch his grin when you passed, didn’t see how he stopped wiping down the bar, and certainly didn’t see the way his eyes latched onto your ass when you bent over. Instead, you went about your business. The music drowned out any sounds he made and you focused on that, instead of the man behind you currently running a thumb over his bottom lip. Moving something out of the way, you reached for the-

    The bag was empty. 

    So, what the hell did he need you to come take out the trash for? Turning to face him, you were met with dark eyes roaming your figure shamelessly, a hunger in them eyes that you’d grown accustomed to seeing. It seemed that the more time you spent around each other, the more that happened between the two of you, he grew more insatiable. Or it might have been this night in particular. The anxiety of nearly losing one another, turning into something else.

    Relief you were alive.

    “Din?” you asked.

    His eyes locked on yours, and you knew you’d hit the nail on the head. What the hell were you supposed to do now? He had you stuck in place, apparently right where he wanted you, and you were willing to do what he asked. You’d get on your knees if he so wished it, because the things he could do to you still played in your mind. But he chose to just continue watching you. Seemingly happy with the sight of you slowly losing your mind as you waited for him to do something. 

    Should you do something? Is that what he wanted? For you to do something to him.

    The music continued to play in the background, a noise you’d grown used to tuning out by now. Except now you could barely hear it, because he shifted his eyes away from you, turning back to whatever he was doing. You stood dumbstruck wondering if you’d done something wrong. Did he just assume that you had meant to ask what was wrong? Maybe that was it. You knew you were wrong instantly when he slid a hand up his shirt, his palm coming up towards his chest and lightly rubbing the skin. 

    Maybe he hurt himself earlier during the fight or-

    You watched, trying not to salivate at the sight of the inky black lines across his skin. The skull tattoo peeking out happily at you, the happy trail you’d licked and nipped down to this morning, on full display. He wasn’t hurt. Din Djarin was fucking with you. He was trying to do whatever he could to get you to snap in half and beg for him like before. Something to take the edge off the night of chaos.

    And you relished in it. Loved that was initiating this game once more.

    He turned back towards you, his hand coming out from under his shirt and hiding his skin, hiding the tattoos again, and returned to his place of watching you. Now was your chance to do something, anything.

    You just needed him to touch you. Needed to feel him and know that he was okay, because the images from earlier still refused to leave your mind. Still stuck to you like a scar you didn’t wish to bear.

    Taking in a deep breath, that he obviously noticed, if the way his eyes shot down to your chest told you anything, you took a step closer. You knew his game by now, knew how he’d drive you to the very edge only to pull back. It made you want to scream, but then the memory of him losing at his own game not too long ago came back to you. 

    “What do you want to do with me?” you asked. The question that sparked memories from that night and you hoped he remembered how it felt to be on the edge of something earth-shattering. 

    His eyes narrowed, tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip. 

    He remembered. 

    “Sweetheart,” he practically cooed at you, his voice dripping with a tease that you could hear clearly.

    Was it possible for you to be a mess already? One fucking word. He always did it in one word. Tore you to shreds, made you weak for him, and read you like a damn book. All of it had you heaving in another breath, desperate for anything other than the agonizingly passionate look in his eyes. The tension of the night gave way to this. To a playful three in the morning Din, that had no qualms about teasing you until you were puddy in his hands.

    He took another step closer to you. A game of taunting, of waiting for the other to break. It’s what he excelled in, what you willingly played into, and you got off on it. You could feel yourself practically dripping for him, waiting for him to do something other than watch you. The predatory look in his eyes told you that you weren’t going anywhere for a while, but with the way he barely moved, you weren’t sure. 

    “You like to mess with me, don’t you?” A simple question that didn’t mean anything, but it had his lips curling into another grin.

    “Me? Mess with you? I would never.” Another step closer and you were practically panting for him.

    His nose was practically brushing your cheek, eyes staring into yours, and his hands clenched at his sides as he resisted the urge to touch you. You knew that he was hesitating for a reason. Knew that he still thought you would run after everything he told you; after part of his past came out. But you also knew he wanted this, wanted you. So, you took the last step. You stood close enough to him that his nose brushed yours, and your lips nearly pressed against his when you spoke. 

    Molton brown eyes flashed down to your lips and back up, the tenderness showing through. A small bit of what he didn’t let the rest of the world see. 

    “Liar,” you breathed out.

    Your very own tease this time, and it worked. His hands shot out to grip at you, yanking you closer as his lips slotted against yours. This would not be a gentle kiss like he usually did. Not another light press of his lips to yours to just feel them. No, he was devouring you. His tongue breaking open your mouth, delving in and taking no chance for you to have control. You understood why; understood that he needed to know you were okay, that you were safe after what happened.

    His hands dug into your ass, pushing you against him until you were unconsciously grinding against him, desperate for friction, because you were in the same place he was. You gripped at his hair, keeping his lips against yours, but it wasn’t like he wanted to move. His teeth bit down on your bottom lip a little too hard, drawing out a gasp from you, before he swallowed it down. This wasn’t Din kissing you. This was him driving you back to the precipice, right to the very edge of ecstasy.

    This was him assuring himself.

    You needed to breathe and he seemed to know it before you did, moving his attack onto the skin of your neck, till he hit your chest. Was it possible to be dizzy just from his lips? Just from the teeth that sunk into the skin of your breast? Perhaps it was. He was just that good at driving you crazy and he had barely touched you completely yet. 

    “Fuck-” You tugged on his shirt. “-please I need you.” The words came out as a gasp when his hand reached back and cupped your ass again, fingers digging into you from behind. 

    A growl tore from his mouth before he was tearing his shirt off, yanking yours up as well and throwing it to the side. The expanse of skin giving him more room to dig his teeth into you, more of a chance to worship as much of you as he could. Except he didn’t want to do it standing up. You knew he’d get on his knees for you, having seen him do it before, but this was different.

    He remained in charge this time and you were perfectly content in letting it happen.

    “Jump,” he muttered, hands on your waist and turning you towards the bar. 

    “What?”

    He squeezed your waist. “I said jump.”

    “I could fall off Din. I can’t sit up there while you-”

    “You’re not going to be sitting, sweetheart.” His words were low and dark, but his eyes still held the lightness of a tease, of wanting to play. Yeah, three in the morning Din continued to remain interesting.

    So, you jumped and swung a leg over each side of the bar till you were practically straddling it. He followed, crouching in front of you, his tattoos on display for you to trace with your gaze, but soon he was pushing you back until you were lying along the bar. The ratty torn old blue jeans you wore were pulled off as well as your shoes, leaving you in only your underwear and bra. You’d think you would feel exposed this way. Lying on his bar as he watched you, but the only thing you felt was the exhilaration of the act.

    Sinful in all the right ways, and suddenly you couldn’t remember what happened mere hours ago. Couldn’t find it in you to relive the moments, because you were there allowing yourself to be free.

    Din sat on the bar, straddling it as well, his hands on your bare thighs, as he took in the sight. You could feel his eyes. Feel the way they traced along every curve, every inch of skin, until they met yours again. He’d stay this way until you were begging him for more, you knew it, because that’s how he liked you. Begging him for more.

    “You going to come closer?” you asked, hoping that spurred him on a bit.

    You couldn’t get the moment that the body shot happened out of your head. How his tongue licked along your torso until you were dripping into your underwear. His eyes flashed to yours again and you saw it. The will he had to just admire hanging on by a very thin thread; and it was snapping. Except you didn’t want him to watch you without doing anything, you wanted him to give into the want he had, give into the desire.

    Din’s eyes widened slightly when your hands came up to cup your own breasts, pinching the nipple through your bra, and causing your stomach to twist. He wanted to watch, then you’d give him a show to enjoy. You’d won the game once, and you’d do it again. One hand remained where it was, while your other slid down your stomach, and slipped into your underwear. Got you. His eyes narrowed at the sight of you dipping your finger into your wet folds, spreading the slick, as his tongue came out again to run across his bottom lip.

    You were the one pressing him, because you knew how much he could hold out. Knew how much he would hold out to watch you be the one to break first. A moan left your lips when you put pressure on your clit, the aching relief a delight to finally feel after he’d done nothing. You figured this would be enough. Him watching you try to get yourself off would be enough to break him, but instead he continued to watch.

    As if you were the best damn film he’d ever seen. 

    “Din,” you whined. 

    He didn’t say anything, his eyes continuing to watch as you pushed a finger into your entrance, your other hand slipping down to push aside your underwear so she could get a glimpse as to how wet you were. You were sure he saw it, because a groan echoed around the now quiet bar. The music had apparently stopped a while ago, but you hadn’t noticed, because you were too busy trying to stay sane. 

    “Sweetheart,” he murmured, brushing his hand up higher on your thigh and making your hips jolt upwards. “How does it feel?”

    Fuck he wanted you to answer a question at this time?

    You were pushing a second finger in to gain more friction, to find the spot inside yourself that would break you. Except none of it was enough. Not when he continued to stare, continued to watch you go crazy, and not do a damn thing about it. You needed him to do something, because your hands alone wouldn’t cut it.

    “I need more.” 

    His hand shifted higher, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. “More huh?”

    “Yes.” You were panting; your fingers pumping into you fast enough to have the sound of your wetness echo around the bar. 

    “You want it, but do you deserve it,” he whispered, leaning down to bite at your thigh.

    You cried out, moving to run a hand through his hair, but he pulled away again. He wanted to know if you deserved it? If you deserved to have him break you over and over again? Any other time you’d be mad, you would scream at him for this, but now with your fingers finally brushing against that spot you needed, and the look in his eyes that almost exhibited pain, you were in heaven. He wanted to be stubborn and hold out; make you break for him, then you’d give him exactly that.

    You’d fall apart for him. Except not in the way he expected.

    Keeping the pace of your fingers steady, you spread your slick on your other fingers, bringing them up to your mouth. You could see him breathing heavily for you, his eyes zeroing in on the fingers you were licking, dipping in and out of your mouth to match the speed of your other hand. A few more thrusts were all you needed, your thumb pressing on your clit before you were falling apart.

    Before you were breaking for him. 

    A sound was torn from his chest as your hand was ripped away leaving you to cry out in anger this time. You were inches away from an orgasm, one more thrust from completely shattering and he’d taken it away from you. Din really wanted to make you hit him, and you were about to. Except your underwear was torn from your body, legs being pulled until they were draped over his shoulders.

    You didn’t expect him to yank you forward, didn’t expect him to push your hips into the bar, and you certainly weren’t prepared for when he latched onto your clit. A scream tore from your throat, hand coming to dig into his hair as he spread your slick with his tongue, until he lashed at your clit. The orgasm from mere moments ago, rushed back up into your veins until you were bucking against his mouth, crying out his name.

    He practically folded you in half as he continued to lick at you as if you were the best damn thing he’d tasted. Maybe you were, you wouldn’t have known either way. But the overstimulation was driving you crazy. He dug his fingers into you tighter, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking on it just to hear you scream again. Better than any music he’s heard before, better than any whiskey he’s had, and better than any dream he had about you.

    “Din!” you screaming. “Fuck-I’m-” The words died on your throat when he slipped two fingers into you, curling them exactly where you needed them.

    Another sound echoed through the bar, a feral sound of pleasure that apparently came from you, as your second orgasm of the night crashed over you. It tore through you, shattering you into pieces, and caused you to thrash in his hold as he continued to suck at your clit. Whines fell from your lips, the aftershocks of him licking at you were causing your body to jolt with each movement of his tongue.

    It wasn’t until you shoved at his head did he actually stop, leaving you feeling boneless and dazed. The thought that you were nearly completely naked on top of his bar, spread out like a meal didn’t occur to you anymore. None of it occurred to you, except the fact that he was rubbing small circles into your hips, trying to sooth his harsh hold on you. The skin would be tender, you knew that, but you would enjoy it either way.

    He scooted back, resting your legs back on either side of the bar, before leaning forward to press kisses to your skin. Hot open-mouthed kisses against the skin of your thigh, your hip bone, your stomach, everywhere he could reach. You continued to run a hand through his hair, tugging on the locks whenever he bit into you, but the calm feeling of just being there with him was returning. The relief of the night settling in your bones. You knew for a fact that you were dripping onto the bar, but what you didn’t know was how much he wanted to taste you again.

    “Did I deserve it?” you asked, smiling at him when he brought you into a sitting position.

    Din laughed lightly; his palms splayed across your back. “You deserve more than that. Especially after what you did tonight.”

    A pang of dread returned; the memory of you holding a gun up to someone more terrifying than you remembered it to be. And he began to kiss your skin as he rubbed at your back, to appease the pain. To try and help you forget again. Just as he wanted to.

    Shifting you, he slid you into his lap, your knees pressing into the bar as he sat straddling it. You had to admit this position was comfortable, but you could feel him hard and ready under you through his jeans. The friction of them rubbing against your already sensitive clit. His lips found yours again, kissing you softly this time, but still holding control over you.

    “So, Romeo,” you whispered, biting into his bottom lip. “You going to fuck me on your bar or what?”

    “No,” he replied. You reared back, staring at him and feeling a bit of shock fill your body, before the annoyance came back at the sight of his grin.

    “You’re an asshole.”

    He laughed, pulling you tighter to him. “You’re going to fuck me sweetheart.”

    Now that sounded appealing. He was going to give you complete control yet again. It wouldn’t last, you knew that. He liked to have you bending to his will, but when you were given control like this, in a position like this, you felt a power rush through you. Slipping your hands off his shoulders, you began to pull at his belt, dipping a hand in to palm him through his underwear. He groaned, head falling onto your shoulder, and teeth sinking into your skin. 

    “Do you like that?” you asked, trying to make your voice as sinfully hot as his was and it seemed to work when he shallowly bucked up into your grip. Tugging on his hair you brought his head back, ghosting your lips over his and continuing your motion. “You want me to ride your cock Din?”

    He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut before opening to reveal the brown you loved to be gone. “Yes,” he breathed out. “Yes, I want it.”

    He wanted to see you break, well you wanted the same from him. Swiping your thumb over his tip you pressed your lips to his but not before saying two words that would leave him desperate for you. Not before pulling his own play against him and causing him to do nothing but beg for you.

    “Good boy.”

    You knew he wouldn’t last long if you continued to rub at him, so you pulled him out of the confines of his jeans and lined him up with your entrance. Din let go of you to let you rise up on your knees, before you were sinking down onto him, the fullness of him having your head fall back. Every time was the same feeling, the same overwhelming soul crushing feeling, and right now you were lost in its pleasure. 

    He leaned down taking a nipple into his mouth, at the same time he bucked his hips up causing you to let out a moan. The indescribable feeling of both pain and pleasure mixed together to create what he was eliciting from you. All of it kept you from both staying on the edge and falling off at the same time. How he managed it you’d never know, but there would be no more time to dwell on what he could do. 

    You were shifting upwards, panting at how he slid along your walls, hearing him let out his own sound when you clenched around him. It intertwined together, the sensations, the sounds of him. It all became too much and not enough at once. Rolling your hips forward you felt him hit a part in you that had stars showing behind your closed eyelids. Din seemed to have felt you tighten around him, and proceeded to help you keep him in place, continually hitting the same spot until you were a whimpering mess. 

    He had taken back the control he so willingly had given you. Now going back to the man who you begged for.

    Look at you sweetheart. Taking my cock like a good girl. You’ll drive me fucking insane one day with how pretty you are. He was talking to you in that low raspy voice that affected you more than the trail of hair that rubbed against your clit with every movement. The words practically dripping with sin, and he didn’t seem to have intention to stop. Murmuring words of how much he’d dreamed of this, of how he touched himself to the thought of this. Grunting out curse words in between whenever he hit another deep spot within you.

    He was slowly tearing you to shreds, inch by inch, with every thrust he made. All of it leaving you to do nothing but just take it, allow him to control the movement of your hips as he tried his best to thrust up into you. Your mouth hung open slightly, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he began to rub his thumb against your clit. 

    Din leaned forward, biting down on your earlobe and sucking on it lightly. “I want to see you soak my cock sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”

    Was it the words that had you rushing towards another earth-shattering orgasm, or was it the sound of voice whispering them to you in your ear, as he devastatingly thrust one more time into you and pinched your clit at the same time? Either way you could do nothing but let out a scream, sinking down onto him one more time to bury him within you. The hot rush of your release triggering his own, as he bit into your shoulder to muffle the feral sound that came out of him.

    It left you truly unable to do nothing but sag into his hold, panting against his skin and feeling the aftershocks roll through your body with every shallow thrust he made. Your mind felt foggy and dizzy afterwards, trying to focus on him, because now he was saying something else.

    He trailed his fingers lightly up and down your back, pressing kisses to your shoulder. You could still feel him inside you, softening but still causing you to feel full. The comfortable warmth of his embrace let the dizzy sensation build up into a drowsy one and his caresses and kisses weren’t helping in keeping you awake.

    “Romeo,” you mumbled, trying to fight through the pleasurable haze in your mind, because there was still something you had to ask him. He nudged your neck, letting you know he was listening. “Will you be my date to Liv’s wedding?”

    He froze and you figured you just ruined this moment, sent it crumbling with only a few words. “Do I have to dance?”

    You smiled, feeling a different type of pleasure wash over you. “Well I’d like to dance at least once with my boyfriend.”

    Boyfriend. That word held its own kind of power and he shuddered at the sensation. You took his hidden smile and the light nip at your skin to be his answer. Yes. I’ll dance with you. A confirmation that had you soaring and nearly ready to go again, but the shallow thrust he made had you shaking from the aftershocks.

    “So beautiful,” he whispered against your skin. “You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

    Heat rushed to your face at his compliments and you smiled into his shoulder. “I could say the same about you Romeo.”

    He laughed. “I’m definitely not the prettiest thing here.”

    “So, you admit that you’re pretty.” You had him there and you knew it when he paused, before nipping at your neck in retaliation. 

    “Always keeping me on my toes sweetheart.”

    “Mm someone has to.” You pressed a kiss to his jaw, before settling further against his shoulder, your eyes fluttering shut again. “Don’t want you killing yourself on accident while I’m not here.”

    Din’s breath stuttered. When you’re not here. Those words brought out the ache in his heart he pushed down to survive the days. After what happened tonight, after having to watch you nearly get hurt, he couldn’t bear that thought for a moment. They were the same words he never wanted you to say again, because he’d done the one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t do. Din Djarin had allowed himself to care. He’d opened his heart to you and made space, because you forced him to without knowing. And the thought of you no longer being here, in his bar, with his arms wrapped around you, terrified him to his core.

    Din Djarin had done the one thing he wouldn’t allow himself to do. Something even more terrifying than watching you hold a gun. More terrifying than being helpless as you fought to help him.

    He fell in love. He just had yet to realize it yet.

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[matchamorphosis]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 | ღ | 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || what seems to be a normal rich summer morning with the women who lives across the honeysuckle boulevard from his cottage lies something else. a buttery rich feeling that spreads deep within Bucky’s heart as he takes his neighbor, alongside Alpine to the farmers market for coffee.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || fluffy fluff! ➳ part one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || retired!bucky barnes × neighbor![black//woc]reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 3K ➳ 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 || @firefly-graphics

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || if you think long walks with bucky and alpine in the sunny countryside are warnings then so be it but there is lots of food mentioned. ღ also reader owns a flower shop, not a warning thought just some info!

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || this version of cherry wine by hozier ღ this version of mystery of love by sufjan stevens ღ

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || eeeeep!!! so this is my first bucky with alpine fluff and i’m very glad to have it be the first for my fluffy mini series that i’m doing for this month! ღ I don’t describe reader too much throughout the story but what is clear is that I don’t specify on skin tone but yes the person in the moodboard is a woc! ღ anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy reading! ღ

+ p.s || do not repost, republish or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or steal my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

it was a lavish affair when Bucky found himself tangled with you in the bed of a million perennial petals.

clothing falling and bodies twisting themselves against each other in not lust but emotional apprehension. the soft petals of rose, carnation and violet keep pouring like blissful rain, entangling in his hair and in the crooks of your body.

enough to suffocate but enough to make him feel enveloped in the fantasy- the divination of you you you and only you.

for you are butterscotch benevolence that he will let pool like ambrosial nectar in the cavernous hollows of his collarbones. your tears of seventh heaven euphoria trickling onto his skin forming constellations- like the paint speckles on the forlonged artists canvas of his naked soul.

you are honey sunlight oozing from the basin of the candy floss sky, lacing with the shedding petals that continue to powder in their divine scent and morality. his fine pink sheets soft and silky as the rose petals of Heliogabalus, he’d sigh in heavenly pleasure to be buried alive in petals if she was drunk of the love he has for her.

he sees her playing, singing, dancing and bringing her virtuous spring song deep within the glossy shine of her honey hive eyes. love seeping in the melancholy streams leaking through the old creeky floorboards of his home and straight into the chambers of his heart.

so promising yet so grandeur as he feels his chest warm with her very touch, the ivory bow encased in the virtuous flowers of her emblem garden in his hands- he’d think that he was Cupid but oh how he’s been struck by his own arrow in great surprise. straight into the once extravagant chamber of his heart.

the spiraling golden arrow destined to pierce and rip through the tender muscle of breast to the beating vessel that writes a tragic tale of eternal ravishment in the movements of lyrical beats. muttering with languor-glazed lips, he’d keep her love like a an old locket against his chest for it’s what reminds him of home whenever he feels the cold element on his skin.

there are pieces of you scattered in the wonderous arteries of his heart.

nestled in the folds of the beating muscle, take heed.

for that is his home.

y/n is his perennial feelings left unsaid, exquisite pain yet ethereal serenity. his soft bed of roses and his deadly golden arrow, all meant to give his heart hope.

that he was- however it seems the bed of roses and all the lovely elements it holds have come to a staggering pause.

now as the sun hits the past super soldiers eyelids that dream of flower petals and the heavenly vision of you disappear. they flutter open to meet the single stream of sunlight that has slipped past the slit of the sheer bedroom curtains. brightening up the somewhat clustered space of the room with its single golden string.

Bucky sighs in defeat, this is the fifth dream he’s had of you in a month and he was barely pushing past the second week of May. before he didn’t mind the dreams, they calmed his mind while he layed in slumber during the thunderstorms of April but now they were resilient. it wasn’t no regular thing to dream about the women across the boulevard in the haven of flower fields and maple trees.

Bucky knew this but he couldn’t help but not treat these dreams sweetly. they were the definition of sweet torture, you never hurt him in those dreams as he did to himself but it was a pain to know that you probably don’t think of him the same way. for goodness sake ever since he and Alpine moved the only interactions he had with the maiden were just acknowledgments as they passed each other on their daily errands.

he shouldn't be this infatuated with someone who he's only met.

the soft hum of a purr finally awakens Bucky, his cats paw brushing against the half covered skin of his fleshed bicep. it takes a pat or two to make Bucky open his eyes to find Alpines blue hues staring back at his and he gives his furry friend a crooked smile. a chorus of meows welcoming him to another sunny morning in the peaceful and harmonious countryside.

“morning pal, ya slept well?” Bucky smiles as he lazily lifts his hand to scratch the right spot behind Alpines ear.

stretching out of bed till his feet touch the cool wood flooring, following the simple path from the bedroom to the kitchen he pours Alpine his dish of cream and gets started on his own breakfast. whisking hen eggs his neighbors from afar gifted him the day before and toasting the freshly baked loaves of bread he bought specially from the market yesterday.

Bucky normally didn’t take any gifts from anyone, he wasn’t that type of person to feel comfortable with those sort of things but as the days gone by the cheerfulness of the communities welcoming energy towards him has soften his doubt.

eating his simple breakfast paired with coffee, Bucky bites into his buttery egg toast whilst quickly scribbling down his to-do list for the day. of course there isn’t any tasks that the hundred and ten year old man has to get done but there were things that Bucky did look forward to ever since he settled in a month ago. the country was a lovely peacefulness he had forgotten about ever since he was a boy.

traveling to his grandparents farm away from the city for memorable childhood summers in the sun and fields. turning his head to meet the white linen sheets that draped over the kitchen panels, Bucky can see the herd of brown and black spotted cows from the distance. tapping the pencil against the shiny polish of the kitchen table he bites his lip on what else to add on.

his head lifts up to see through the other window that casts its lovely light against his paper. blue eyes meeting the toffee cobblestone path that led to her cottage, hidden amongst the shrubbery of acorn trees and flower budded bushes. hearing from lots of locals in the cobblestone village near the sparkling sea that she owns a little orchard of peach and cherry trees, a few strawberry patches amongst the vegetation.

it made sense why he sometimes finds a large wooden basket of those ruby fruits at his doorstep from time to time. a card inviting him over for some tea that he would agree to yet he would always call you the next day a stuttering mess canceling it over some important errands. nonetheless it made Bucky's heart swell how understanding you were, sweet just like the ripe fruits you pluck for him on Sundays.

Bucky would make copplers and sometimes pies out of them and if he wasn't so scared of the possibility of being too attracted to you he'd head over to your place so he and him would eat them in your gazebo. but of course he can't do everything his heart implores him to do. was it bad to want to get to know you and imagine what it would be like to befriend you?

maybe do lots more than just befriend you...

sometimes he would find a glimpse of your form in the distance as he headed for the lake neat the lavender fields up north to fish something for dinner. humming while you cared for your flowers, singing to them as you danced along the vintage radio. Bucky could see himself singing and dancing alongside you. caring for your precious tulips, primroses and other beautiful flowers that you sold.

those pretty flowers sweet and divine just as her lips and voice when the two first met, when he arrived in the too expensive car that stood out amongst the scenery. arms occupied with bouquets upon bouquets of trimmed flowers that practically shielded her face, his body ran straight into yours when he got out of his car. flower petals falling with the impact and him apologizing one thing led to another and he helped her with her bouquets all while being stricken when he got a clear look at her.

a clear look at you.

lovely in your sundress that flowed beautifully against your bodies soft planes, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that made him start to stutter. something about you that made his heart bloom in a recherché flower he still can’t understand because he can still hear the velvety tone of your voice speaking your own name when giving each other’s your introduction.

from there on out a glowing ember of clustered stars burned in the pit of his belly when you spoke his name and he spoke yours. it was soft and innocent as the flowers in your arms but the introduction was cut off far too short for Bucky's liking but he promised you a coffee when he was completely settled in. having to do something so he could see you again cause oh how he wishes to hear you speak his name again and again and again till the flowers sprout, bloom and decay with each coming season.

maybe he should pay you a visit and bring up that coffee...

the music from the radio filling the bright cottage kitchen sweetly alongside the birds singing their song outside. Alpine takes his seat across from him, yawning over the new day that brings nothing but lazy laps and baked fish treats. forking a few honey drizzled raspberries in his mouth, Bucky walks to the front door and just in time the daily paper plops down on his feet from the passing paper boy whipping through the grassy roads on the shiny steel of a ringing bicycle.

bending down to retrieve the newspaper, he passes through the sidewalk of petunias and violets till he reaches his mailbox. the wood creaky and the metal rusty but the daisies that sprinted around the opening was a pretty site to see before Bucky grimaced at people from the outside world wanting to invade his privacy. grabbing the letters before smelling the sweet daisies, Bucky looks through the letters one by one. ripping some that had no use for to be used as fire food for his fireplace, grunting that even though he’s away from the tabloids and cameras there are still people eager enough to want something from him.

a soft voice from the distance pulls him out of his annoyance, it makes his eyes lift from his dreaded mail to the women a mile away singing her song as she reaches her mailbox. Bucky can’t help but look at her from afar; and maybe Alpine knows this to as he watch his lovesick owner admire the maiden from the kitchen windowsill.

with some obscene fortune he notices you checking your mailbox as well. heart pacing in his chest, he wishes he didn’t go outside before showering and at least brushing his hair for your waving to him from the distance.

“hello hello Bucky!” your sweet voice exclaims and it just adds onto the heaven that is the morning it makes his cheek hurt from how much he’s smiling.

“hello hello to you y/n. how is the shop coming along?” Bucky shouts and his heart sinks when you wave him over to you.

despite his mind telling him to not pursue closer his heart makes him walk his way to you standing next to your Valentine shaped mailbox. his worries slipping away when there's a underlying comfort in your posture and aura, alluring like the bees are to the flowers. welcoming and warm and he can't help but feel that way every time he's near you.

speaking of you, its reassuring to also know he wasn't the only one to wear pajama's out since your still in your blue silk nightgown. matching silk slippers adorning your feet, you sip from your tea cup as you read what he believes to be a Cosmopolitan.

“it’s coming along great, thank you! a bit slow the first week but that’s how any business starts but I just received my tenth loyal customer and i’m more than certain i’ll be selling lots of flowers today.” you spoke as you smiled to yourself then up at him.

checking your mail, Bucky’s surprised that you have quite a handful of letters and boxes. all written in lovely cursive and packaged nicely, almost like love letters and gifts. it makes Bucky’s heat sink, knowing that he might not be the only one who’s fallen head over heels for you. by all means you probably have the whole village under a spell with just the way you smile alone but he wants to see that smile the most.

he wants to be the reason for that smile.

“that’s sounds wonderful y/n, maybe I could stop by and pick a pretty bouquet or two," you only smile wider upon those words and much to his excitement you even brush your hand against his.

"oh really? have a special someone in your life who needs some loving?" you perk as you open an envelop but the question makes Bucky's throat dry on how he should answer.

you seem like the type of maiden who loves an honest man- yes, he should be honest.

"well... there is this one special lady." Bucky lingers and that makes you snap your attention away from the letters in your hands. voice dying in your throat at those words and heart beat hitting pause.

"I always thought Alpine was gonna be the only one to get to my soft spot- we sleep in the same bed together," he stops to laugh a bit, rubbing the back of neck with his metal arm and you laugh along with him.

"how is Alpine? i'm noticing he's getting into a routine with sleeping in my chamomile beds in the afternoon," you smile and bring your tiny tea cup to your lips. "would you care for a cup Bucky? this just so happens to be chamomile,"

"Alpine is doing good and thank you for bringing that up I was beginning to wonder where that rascal has been leaving for. will have an important talk to him once I get home and- I was going to ask you something," Bucky speaks while admiring how your thick lashes curtain your honey hive hues as you sip the steaming golden liquid.

no one should look that beautiful just drinking tea yet here he is, breathless on the simple action. if he truly wanted a cup he'd wish to drink from your tiny cup, to press his lips upon the porcelain rim where yours once brushed against. drink the sweet sunshine to experience the closest thing to your honey kiss...

"don't worry it's alright! I love looking over at him when I have tea at the back patio, he's quite a lovely guest. very well mannered, and yes Bucky is there anything I can help you with?" you cannot deny that your heart is practically skipping beats in your chest, fast and lively like the flutter of a butterfly wing.

Bucky runs his fingers through his hair, for someone who has done the simple thing of asking someone out for couple hundreds of times a hundred years ago from now it’s a disappointment that he’s lost his touch. however you don’t seem to notice or care but that doesn't mean he should give up. not when you're right here glowing in your morning dew radiance, anticipating the next words to slip past those lips.

it's now or never.

"h-how do you feel about that coffee I promised? today? I have a few errands to run in town and I was wondering if you would accompany me- on my errands... if that doesn't bother you,” Bucky rambles to a stop and he's thankful you're still smiling that closed lip grin against the porcelain of the cup.

"yes Bucky I would love that! there's a coffee cart near the shop I work at but what about your lady? she wouldn't mind us going out for coffee, would she?" you speak as you gather your letters in your arms. glancing up at Bucky to receive some conformation and Bucky bites his lips.

"I don't think she'll mind. in fact... I think she would love me to go out once in a while. I have a habit of only going out when necessary, coffee with you wouldn't hurt,"

"that's perfect, i'll see you at twelve then Bucky. you can help me open shop to," you smiled and Bucky returned an even warmer one back.

filling your heart with a rush of liason, like a tea cup filling with tea. something meant to be full and warm, embraced with someone's touch and lips as they drank each fluttering honey glazed sensation they have for one other.

something that seems to be happening right now before they break their strong eye contact, wiry- crooked smiles still embellishing their sun-freckled faces.

you wish you could kisses each one off his clean shaven cheeks right now, slightly rosy but oh how it would feel like peach skin against your lips.

Bucky wishes to kiss yours, the shine of your lips the form of heart shaped clouds and he just can't seem to get his head out of the amorous blue you cast him into.

"i'll be seeing you in an hour Bucky," you draw before walking away with a cheeky wink, your eyes still locking with his before you get to the rosy sunflower porch.

"and i'll be waiting for you doll,"

♡♡♡ thank you for reading part one! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this join my taglist to be notified of my future works! ♡♡♡

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[katieraven]

SOMEBODY TO DIE FOR

Summary: Elizabeth Jones is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent frequently on missions with the Avengers. When one mission backfires, she is left to deal with the resulting trauma and some unresolved affections for a certain Sergeant ...

Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes/OC

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+ smut, language, graphic depictions of violence and torture, implication of non-con elements (on the antagonist's side), self-destructive behaviour, so much angst and trauma, eventual fluff and happy ending

Word count: 14638

Notes: Hello there, fellow Bucky simps, it is wonderful to see you.

I started writing this thing shortly after watching episodes 1-3 of The Falcon And The Winter Soldier, although this fic has nothing to do with the series at all, it simply served as inspiration. The story got a little out of hand and was originally meant to be a short, self-indulgent, silly little thing, but well, here we are. I do hope you enjoy it. If you want, you will find this fic on AO3 here.

Love,

Katie

P.S.: @sventeen-daybreak, in case you were wondering, this is the fic I was talking about that I couldn't shut up with.

P.P.S.: Also I am apparently overly motivated, I made a playlist for this, and there is a second moodboard.

~~~

The room is pitch dark. I hate the dark, hate when I can’t see. I can hear Steve in my earpiece, trying to coordinate this mess of a mission.

Boy, did it go wrong. So quickly, too. Civilians cry and scream above me in the upper levels. I hope they get them out before it’s too late.

“Steve, civilians on the second floor, western wing”, Bucky’s voice crackles over comms. I release the air I’ve been holding. They will get them out. I know they will.

“Got it”, Steve answers.

“Top floor’s clear”, Sam notes.

Carefully, I take a step forward. All my senses are heightened in the darkness. Gun out in front of me, I advance further into the room. Back against the wall. Slowly, my eyes are getting used to the dark, dusty room. It smells like old plastic and metal and reminds me of the copy rooms in the library I used to go to as a kid.

I start to make out the shapes of old computers around me. Lines of shelves full of old folders and crates. Jackpot.

“I found something in the basement. Looks like they used the hostages as a distraction, there’s all kinds of data down here.”

Steve’s answer crackles into my earpiece seconds later, “Anything of value?”

I step up to one of the hulking grey computers on the nearest table. My eyes are adjusting more and more to the darkness surrounding me. As dusty and unused the rest of the room looks, the computers are surprisingly clean.

“They’ve been used recently.”

“You alone down there, Jones?”, Bucky asks.

“Seem to be. Can’t hear anything other than the scuffle upstairs.”

“Be careful”, he just huffs, then I hear gunshots cracking in the distance.

It feels wrong. If the hostages really are a distraction, why would the basement be deserted?

“I don’t like this, Steve. It’s too quiet.” I murmur.

“Can you get in there, Jones? Find what they’ve been hiding?”

I hesitate. It’s not that I think I wouldn’t get in, but I’d have to let my guard down. The bad feeling in my stomach builds.

“Sam, can you have Redwing scan the basement for heat signatures? Make sure I really am alone down here?”

“Sure thing, J. Gimme one sec”, I hear him grunt.

I wait, gun in both hands. Then, “All clear.”

The gun placed next to me on the table, I gently lower my fingers on the keyboard. Clean, too. Not unused, though, the letters are fading. I reach into my pocket to pull out a flash drive and shove it into the PC's slot. The machine begins to whizz, then the screen lights up. Within a few seconds, I have a scanner running. Nothing.

“Seems they prepared for this kinda situation; I need more time if I’m to get something outta these things.”

“You have three minutes, then we have to get out of here. Take what you can get. Anything else we’ll have Tony have a look at later at the –“

An explosion shakes the building around me. I instinctually grab the gun. Dust falls around me like snow.

Then everything happens at once.

“This is a distraction, they’ve set the place to blow, Steve!”, Bucky shouts over comms. I curse, sticking the flash drive into my pocket.

“Get out of there, Buck! Jones, you too!”

Gun drawn, I make my way over to the door.

“Shit, Jones, you’ve got company!”, Sam shouts and I freeze.

Down the hall, I can hear the shuffling of boots. Three. Maybe four.

“How many”, I murmur into the earpiece.

“Four, more coming from the other side!”

I’m surrounded. This was a trap the entire time.

“Stay low, I’m coming.” I can hear the strain in Bucky’s voice, a grunt as he fights his way down to me.

“They blew the stairs, Bucky, we will have to find another way-“

“Five more from the east, Jones! Get out of there!”

I flatten my back against the wall. Breathe. You’re not going down like this. This is not the end I tell myself, feeling my pulse quicken. This is a trap. I am trapped.

Comms are silent. The first HYDRA agent steps through the door and I shoot him in the neck. He goes down and the next one follows. Shouting words in a language I only know broken pieces of, he dodges my bullet, going for my legs. One shot misses, I react only on reflex as I kick his legs out from under him and lock him between my thighs, firing at the next one.

“I’m coming, Jones.” Bucky huffs over comms.

“Busy”, I growl as the next guy pulls out a knife and swipes at my arm, narrowly missing the skin.

The door on the other side of the room bursts open and gunfire erupts around me, Bucky, I think, but I am only greeted by more Russian. Scrambling, I duck behind one of the office chairs for any kind of cover, bullets coming from both sides. One of them just misses by mere millimetres and punches a hole through the soft backrest of the chair.

It is then that I pick up what the agents are saying. It’s only bits and pieces, broken sentences, but I hear hostage and leverage and take her alive and then I hear winter soldier. And I understand.

“I can’t get to her, Steve, I can’t – I don’t know how –“ I hear him over comms. I can’t allow him to get down here. They can’t get him.

“We’re gonna get her out of there, Buck, just –“

“Listen to me!”, I grunt as an agent slams me to the ground and I barely roll out of the way of his fist coming down.

“They’re here for Barnes, you can’t come down here, they are only here for you, you need to leave –“

“I am not. Leaving you, Jones.” Bucky growls.

“It’s a fucking trap, Barnes! Quit playing hero and get out of –“ A bullet catches me in the abdomen and all the air leaves my lungs in a pained yelp.

“There’s too many of ‘em, Steve, she can’t take ‘em all!”, I hear Sam’s voice in my ear.

They’re closing in now. I scramble for my gun, but someone kicks it away against the wall. I curse and grab the knife from my belt, slashing at the arms that try to grab me. I lost track of the entire situation, I don’t know how many are in the room with me and the low, thrumming feeling of despair in my stomach tells me what I already know. I am not escaping this. I can’t get out.

“Leave,” I croak over comms again, trying desperately to at least have him not run into this trap like I did.

“Please, you need to leave –“ a second bullet pierces my shoulder and I hiss at the sharp pain erupting in my upper body.

��No fucking way, Jones.”

“Buck she’s right, this is exactly what they want, we have to find another way!”

A fist meets my jaw, my head snaps back against the wall and I taste blood from where I bit my tongue. I try to deflect the next blow but the knife in my hand swings wide, then someone twists it out of my grasp. I look up into cold, green eyes.

“Jones? Jones, do you copy?”, Bucky’s desperate voice shouts into my ear and I pray to anyone who will listen that he stays far away from these people, that Steve has some common sense. He can’t allow them to take him.

Another fist throws my head against the wall and I feel a light, warm trickle of blood tingling in my hairline. My vision is blurry. The faces before me swim and merge into one, then break apart into a million.

“Please”, I whisper.

“Jones? Tell me you’re still there. Please, Jones, I –“

“You need to leave, Bucky, please –“

I feel myself being lifted up from the ground, hands under my arms, my feet dragging on the ground. The wound makes my shoulders scream in pain. I think I’m crying.

“Promise he’ll be safe”, I manage to get out. A slap against my bruised cheek. “Stop talking”, one of the agents commands in broken English.

“Nobody will hurt him, Jones.” Steve answers calmly, but I can hear the fear below.

“No, Jones, no, please, Steve we have to help her –“

Muffled voices around me. Pain shooting through my shoulder and abdomen, my head pounding.

“Jones, please, answer me.”

My throat refuses to work. The agents keep dragging me down the hall. My eyes flutter closed.

“Jones?” Bucky’s desperate voice pierces my heart. But he will be safe. I know Steve will make sure of it.

“Jones, please. Lizzie. Tell me you’re still there.” Tears push past my eyelids. He will be safe, I keep telling myself.

“Baby, please, I’m begging you –“, a muffled sob shoots through comms and my heart breaks for him. There is so much I want to tell him, but I can’t bring my mouth to obey me. The air around me changes, the stuffiness of the basement gives way to something cleaner, more polished. They will take me and hold me hostage for the others to come save me. This is all part of their plan; it must have been from the beginning. I can’t allow them to use me to get to Bucky. He has worked so hard to be free from HYDRA, it can’t all have been for nothing.

I feel myself being placed on the bottom of a van, the motor rumbling through the metal beneath me. My eyes blink open. I can’t let them use me. The man next to me has his gun leisurely dangling from his hand. With all the strength left in me, I push myself up into a kneeling position and grab the weapon.

I repeat the words in my head like a mantra, I can’t let them use me, fear rushes over me as I put the gun against my temple and try to pull the trigger, but my fingers slip, the last bit of strength I had leaving me when I need it the most. The men around start to shout, the nearest one kicks the gun out of my hand. Another one pushes me to the ground. I know they will use me. And I can’t stop them.

“I’m sorry, Bucky”, I whisper before they rip the earpiece out. My last link to him gone. I sink down to the ground and something heavy hits my head, sending me into oblivion.

*

The first thing I feel is the light. It sticks pinpricks through my lids, no matter how hard I clench them shut. Artificial light piercing my brain.

The second thing I feel is the pain. My whole body aches as if I’ve been run over by a truck. I can feel the place my head hit the wall, the blood now crusty and tugging on single hairs in my neck. I feel the gunshot wounds on my shoulder and my abdomen, searing pain creeping through my body.

The third thing is the cold. They stripped me down to my underwear. I shiver against the freezing metal chair beneath me. Drawing a slow, wheezing breath I dare to open my eyes.

More sharp, artificial light. A tiled room. Someone standing over in the corner across from me, casually leaning against the wall in stark contrast to the environment. Glancing to the left and right, sensing the empty space behind me, I seem to be sitting in the middle of the chamber. I breathe in and out again, coughing as the air hitches in my dry throat.

“Oh, you have awoken”, a voice rasps in broken English and it takes me a few seconds to realise it belongs to the person across from me. The man saunters over to my chair and stops just short of touching my knees. I have to look up at him. He wears a lazy smile and his green eyes glint in the harsh lighting. My mind flashes back to earlier in the basement. The same cold, green eyes. His tac suit has been exchanged for something more put together, a collared shirt and suit pants. He feels overdressed.

He curls a calloused finger around my chin and lifts my face higher until my neck hurts from the unnatural angle. The muscles in my shoulder twitch and a pained whine escapes my lips. It only broadens his smile. I hate myself for it. I want to scream at him, claw his eyes out, punch him, anything. But my body won’t obey me, and I’m strapped to a chair.

His fingers stroke my chin and I turn my head away to somehow try and escape his touch. “Now now, don’t get all pouty on me.”

I keep my eyes locked onto a chipped tile in the wall. It has the tiniest piece broken out of it, in the top right corner.

“Pretty thing”, the agent whispers above me and a chill runs down my spine. I don’t want to know what comes next.

His hand slides over to the back of my head where my hair is still caked in blood.

The crack in the tile almost has the shape of a star if you look at it the right way. Like the star that used to be on Bucky’s arm, my delirious brain thinks. God, I hope he stays as far away from these people as possible.

“They will come get you, pretty girl, and then he will be ours again.” Please god, make him stay away from them.

“Maybe we can have him kill you. Just for fun.”

He told me what they did to him, once. On a balcony at Stark Tower, at three a.m.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” Bucky’s metal fingers clink onto the railing as he steps out to the balcony.

I shake my head. “Nah.”

The sounds of New York at night-time are rushing below us like a river, dampened only by the height we are standing at.

“Tough mission?”, he asks, and I nod absentmindedly. Too much death. Too many casualties. It was supposed to be a stealth mission in an empty warehouse and then suddenly it was outside. Crowded. The screams and looks of terror are still burnt into my brain.

I sigh and turn around, elbows propped up on the railing. I look over to him on my left.

“And you? Tough mission?”, I repeat his question.

He shakes his head. “Nightmare.”

His eyes are underlined in dark purple, his hair a mess, he is standing out here in a pair of sweatpants and a dark shirt. Must have just gotten up. He notices me studying him and looks over. I lift an eyebrow.

“Wanna talk about it?”

I can see him hesitate. His eyes dart over my face. “Intense stuff. Wouldn’t wanna keep you awake with it, too.”

I snort. “Not like I can sleep anyways.”

My eyes fall to the scratch on my arm. “I just …” Sometimes I feel like I don’t suffer enough for all the lives I fail to save. I don’t dare tell him.

“I heard what happened today.” His low rumbling voice smoothes over a rough patch on my heart, and suddenly the lump in my throat is just the tiniest bit smaller.

“There weren’t supposed to be civilians.”

I close my fists and feel the familiar sting of the nails pressing into the soft skin of my palm.

“It was supposed to be a quick mission. In, out. Just the files. No death. And especially no civilians.”

He extends a hand to my left fist and carefully pries it open. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

I look at the red crescent moons my nails left in my skin and can’t help but remember the red hole in a young woman’s forehead. My stomach lurches and I press my hand over my mouth, biting my tongue. Tasting blood.

“It’s not your fault.”

I want to believe him so, so bad.

“How do you know?” My eyes search his face for something, anything to reassure me in the fact that I couldn’t have saved them.

“How do you know I couldn’t have done better?”

His fingers still cradle mine and rub calming circles over my hand.

“Because I know you by now, Jones. And I know you always give your all.”

But it’s not enough.

“You can’t do more than that, Jones. None of us can. All we can do is do our best and save as many people as possible.”

The screams still won’t leave my brain, though.

“I see them when I close my eyes, Barnes. I see their scared faces, their still faces, empty eyes turned upwards and I can’t –“ A violent sob breaks out from my body and I curl my arms around my chest, trying to keep myself from falling apart.

Bucky slowly walks over until he’s standing in front of me, gently placing his hands on my arms.

“Jones. Hey.”

But all I hear is screams of innocent people, all I see is lives cut short. My knees give.

He catches me as I fall and then we’re sitting across from each other on the metal floor.

“Sometimes I wonder if I deserve to have this, Barnes, to live, while all their lives ended before their time”, I manage to push out. I never told anyone this before. But I feel like he would understand.

“Hey, look at me, J.”

I try to steady my breathing and look up into his slate grey eyes, cool and soothing. For a few seconds, we just sit there silently, no words, as the hiccup sobs die down slowly.

“This is our job, Jones, we try to save as many people as we can. Think about how many more had died if you hadn’t been there.”

“None, Barnes. If I hadn’t been there, if there had been no mission, they would have just continued living their lives.”

He sighs.

We don’t talk for a while. Above us the dark night sky of New York, below us the bustling nightlife.

“You still wanna know about my nightmare?”

I look up at him, pulling my arms tightly around myself. And nod.

With a sharp twinge of pain, I get pulled out of my memories.

“You listen when I talk to you, bitch.”

Three other men have moved into the cell, one of them stepping close to the agent in front of me and quietly talking to him. I can’t make out the words, but as the agent steps back, the man before me is smiling a violent smile. I can see a chipped front tooth.

“They will come get you, darling, they just need a little motivation.”

I feel the punch coming. It still hits me unprepared, head flying backwards as pain blooms from my jaw. My ears are ringing.

The agent pushes back his sleeves and pulls a phone out from his pockets.

“Look alive”, he trills as the sharp light of a camera flash hits me. I squint too late, shapes dancing over my closed lids. A second punch hits me, the eye this time. Suit-guy chuckles gleefully as he slowly stalks around me. When he crouches down next to the chair, I shiver, his lips against my ear.

“You know what we will do now, darling?”

I couldn’t answer if I wanted to. Flashes of torture ghost through my head and sickening fear crawls up the walls of my stomach.

“We’re gonna call your friends and see if that doesn’t quicken their pace. I don’t wanna sit around here waiting for Mr. Barnes to show up. We got work to do.”

My stomach lurches. “No”, I cry, and “Please”, but he just grins down at me menacingly, holding the phone out in front of him.

The room is silent except for the beeping of the call. He put the phone on speaker.

“Who is this”, Bucky’s voice shoots out after not more than three seconds and I have to bite my tongue to not cry out.

“I’m sure you figured that out by yourself, Sergeant. We have something you want. Come and get it.”

Biting my lip, I shake my head. Please don’t come. Please.

“Where the fuck is she”, Bucky growls through the speaker, and I can almost see him clench his teeth.

“Oh, don’t worry, she is right here. Darling, won’t you say hello to your friends?”

I press my lips together and glare at him. In the background, I can hear low voices, Steve, and Tony too.

“I’m not going anywhere until I know she is alive.”

One of the agents steps behind me and places both hands on my shoulders, thumb pressing into the wound. I feel the bullet under my skin, wedged deep into the flesh. White-hot pain shoots through my body and I wince, desperately trying to be quiet. I can’t give them what they want.

“Listen to me, Barnes. Here’s what is gonna happen. You will come to a location I will send you shortly, and you will come alone. You won’t put up a fight and then, maybe, we will let her go.”

The cold, thin blade of a knife is placed against my throat and my breath hitches. My nails push into my palms as I try to stay quiet, refusing to make this any easier for them.

But then the agent pushes his thumb back into my shoulder. And I can’t move away because of the blade at my throat, and I try, I try so hard not to make a sound, but the pain is blinding, and I cry out.

“See, she is here. Stubborn though, I see why you like her –“

“I will kill each and every one of you. I will make you suffer until you wish you never set foot on this godforsaken continent.“

“Fine by me. As long as you come alone. We can take you, Barnes. You’re not invincible.”

And with that, he ends the call.

The knife is removed from my throat. The thumb from my shoulder. And I hate myself. I should have pushed against the blade. They would’ve stopped, they need me alive. Instead, I caved. Made him hear me.

Because I know he will come. But I also know he will be blind with fury, and they will take him, and make him their Soldier again. All because of me.

“See, darling, that wasn’t too hard, now, was it?”

Slow, hot tears roll over my cheeks. He has the audacity to wipe them away.

“It’s amazing what love can do to people. Almost too easy to break him, now.”

I scoff. Love. “The fuck do you know about love”, I snarl at him, and he smiles, as he crouches down again.

“Enough to see it in people. Enough to use it to my advantage.”

“He doesn’t love me.”

He downright wheezes with laughter, and I hear the others chuckle underneath their breath.

“Sure he doesn’t. And here I was, thinking you were smart …”

He doesn’t love me. I’m his partner, part of the team, he’d do this for anyone. We stick our heads out for one another, it’s just how this works.

“I guess I should thank you, darling”, he muses as he gets up and saunters off to the door. “You made this almost too easy for us. He’s gonna walk right into our trap, the fool. All heart-eyes and blind.”

He stops before leaving and turns around in the doorway. “The best part of all this is that he thinks he’s saving you.”

I look at him, head pounding.

“He thinks we’ll let you go when he’s here. I don’t see why we should. Two flies with one stone, you know. No, we’re gonna bring the Soldier out, and then he will kill you. Slowly, and painfully. See, that’s the best part. He knows what he’s doing, deep down. He’ll know. He just won’t be able to do anything against it.”

With that, he turns to leave.

“Hey, Viper”, one of the agents calls after him as they begin to leave the room.

“Lemme play with her a bit?”

The “Viper” seems to contemplate, before shrugging.

“Sure, why not. Just don’t break her. We don’t want her dead too early now, do we?”

A shuddering fear runs up my spine. The others leave the room, save the one who asked. As he closes the door behind him, a wicked smile on his face, for the first time I truly understand what HYDRA does to hostages.

*

My throat is hoarse and dry from screaming. Every single muscle in my body is aching, the sharp pain of the gunshots burnt down to a dull, rolling pain. I can barely keep my eyes open, drifting in and out of consciousness.

The agent before me grins violently, teeth bared. He opens his mouth, but I can’t hear, it feels like my head is wrapped in cotton. He drags a knife along my shoulder, my arms, down to my wrist, just enough to make me feel it. The cut is shallow, a burning line along my body. It barely registers. I feel like I am floating above myself, looking at the scene from a stranger’s perspective. Out of touch. Aloof.

He slaps me. I know my head flies to the side, I know blood spatters onto the ground. I know all this. But I don’t feel it. My wrists are still bound. They’ve gone numb by now.

After the first hour, I couldn’t cry anymore. After the second hour, I couldn’t scream anymore.

He left me then, for a while, leaving me to drift into merciful, dreamless unconsciousness. Then he was back. He looks like a shark in bloodied water, frenzied, thirsty for the pain he greedily drinks out of my voice, my eyes, the way my body reacts without me having any say in it.

I lose track of time. The windowless room, tiled top to bottom, claws at my sense of orientation and slowly pulls the ground from under my feet. It feels like days since I last saw daylight.

This was not how the mission was supposed to go. It was supposed to be a small thing. Minor hostage situation, yes, high stakes, sure, but nothing the four of us couldn’t handle. Nothing HYDRA, just a drug cartel. We went in fully prepared. But then it went tits up, too many opponents, more than there were supposed to be.

My nose registers a sharp smell, something wet touches my nose. My conscience is being dragged back to earth, to this broken room, this broken body. My eyes flutter open.

“Don’t you fall asleep on me, pretty.” He is back. His shark grin broadens as he sees my eyes register him.

“Can’t blame the Soldier for wanting a piece of this.” His fingers slide along my face, curl around my chin to lift it up so I look him in the eyes.

“You know, I been thinkin’, why should we let him kill a pretty thing like you right away? It’s not like we get girls this easy ‘round here often. Gotta use the opportunity.”

My stomach roils and I can taste bile in the back of my throat. Please, no. Not this. Please.

His hands let go of my jaw and glide lower, over the sweat-and-blood-soaked underwear they graciously left me, and he pushes my legs apart. I am shaking, I realise, I can’t even stop myself. Cold terror washes over me at the sight of his hungry eyes. He reaches out to grab my hips.

And then everything happens all at once.

A metal arm wraps around his throat, lifting him up away from me and sending his hands scrambling to free himself.

“Touch her again and I will rip you limb from limb.”

The arm sends him flying against the wall, a sickeningly wet thud as his head impacts.

And then he’s there. I must be hallucinating. He is there, and he is alive, and he is himself. He is there. Bucky’s there.

“Fuck, Lizzie, please tell me you’re still in there. Please.” He sinks to his knees and cups my face gently, so gently. It can’t be real. I can only stare at him, drink him in, some kind of fever dream.

“Baby”, he whispers. His hands reach behind me to cut the rope they bound me with, and the lack of suspense sends me falling. But he catches me. I can feel his hands keep me from crashing to the floor and a tiny piece of me returns. He is real. He is here, Bucky is here, and they didn’t make him the Soldier again and he came. He came to save me.

“We need to hurry, this place will be crawling with agents in a few.” I recognise Steve’s voice and as my eyes blink into focus, I see him guarding the door.

They came for me. I’m still shaking, I realise, as I feel my teeth chatter against each other. Bucky’s eyes look heartbroken.

“Can you stand, Lizzie?”

I don’t trust my knees. I don’t trust my voice, either. Bucky takes that as a no.

“I will have to carry you, baby. Is that okay? We have to get you out of here.”

“Buck”, Steve’s voice is cold with warning.

I nod. I can do that, so I nod, the tiniest movement. But he understands.

Slowly, he stands back up, hands still holding me so I don’t double over, and he ever so carefully picks me up, cradling me against his chest. I feel his steady heartbeat through is tac suit. It feels like it slowly drums the life back into my body, pushing the numbness further and further away. God, my feet are cold. My whole body is cold. No wonder I’m shaking.

He carries me out of the room with Steve walking ahead. I curl up against him, closing my eyes against the bright neon lights above. I am safe now, right?

Right?

Shots echo in front of us. Bucky pulls me against him further.

“It’s okay, Lizzie. Everything will be okay. I got you now.”

“All clear”, Steve comments, catching his shield, and we continue. My head is thrumming. The feeling slowly returns to my body but with it returns the pain.

We round a corner and Bucky curses, ducking back around it and shielding me from the gunfire ahead. His metal arm pushes against my wounded shoulder and I cry out, cold sweat coating my forehead. Then it’s quiet again. Inside, my head feels like it’s about to burst.

We round another corner. Fast footfalls follow, then an impact. We tumble and he pulls me against his chest as we fall, but my head meets the ground with an angry thud. Black dots dance over my cloudy vision and Bucky snarls on top of me. The sounds of fighting ensue. I can only lay there, breathing shallow, feeling warm blood trickle down my head, wound newly torn open.

Then he is above me again, hands cradling my face.

“No, Lizzie, stay with me”, he whispers as my eyes flutter shut.

“You have to stay with me, please. Baby, please. Look at me.”

But the warm darkness is so welcoming, if I could just let myself fall …

“Lizzie, baby … please, I need you to stay with me.”

His hands pick me up so carefully, pulling me close against his chest again.

“I need you to stay awake, Lizzie. Please.”

I want to, so bad. But I can’t will my eyes to open. The darkness is all over me now. And I let go.

*

Dark, thick boots in front of me, barking voices, a hand grabbing me by the throat and pulling me up, up, up, until I look into a shark-toothed smile again.

“When I’m done with you, pretty, you’re gonna wish we’d let him kill you.”

Tears roll over my cheeks as he grabs my shoulders, knees giving out from under me as I crash onto the ground, the pain, god the pain, I can’t take it anymore, it’s too much, please let it end, please –

I startle awake, hands frantically pushing up until I’m sitting. Breathing heavy, fists curled up into something soft. The room is warm, welcoming even. There’s no sound apart from my breaths. I am alone. That’s good. Nobody can hurt me if I’m alone.

Then the pain registers and my upper body implodes. I gasp and my arms give out from under me, having me fall back down to the bed.

There’s a knock at the door. It startles me, and immediately I am on high alerts again.

But HYDRA wouldn’t knock.

“Yes?”, I try to say, and wince at how quietly and croaky it comes out.

Nevertheless, the door opens, revealing a tousled head of red hair. Natasha.

“Hey, Jones.” She’s quiet as if trying not to spook me. Like a wounded animal. “How are you?”

I look around the room. This must be Stark Tower. The peace is in such harsh contrast to the last … hours? Days? I don’t know. It doesn’t feel real. How am I supposed to know if this is happening? If it’s really, truly happening, or if I’m just hallucinating? But Bucky saved me. Right?

“Is this real?”, I rasp out. Natasha studies me carefully.

“Will you believe me if I say yes?”

I don’t know, will I? But would it be so bad if it was a dream? It’s so quiet.

“Where are the others?”, I ask. Where is Bucky?, I mean.

“Safe.” She understands. “Strewn all over Stark Tower, working to shut that base down they kept you at.” She slowly approaches me, studying my face.

I try and carefully sit up, much to the dismay of my ruined muscles.

“How did – why were – what happened?”, I try to form a coherent sentence.

“Well, for starters, going in alone anywhere in this kind of situation is a no-go, so fuck that.” She wears a half-smile, pulling a chair over so she can sit, far enough from the bed to give me my space.

“I’m not gonna bore you with the details here, but long story short, someone kidnapped our friend, and we kicked their asses.”

I attempt a smile. Not sure if it works, if it doesn’t, Natasha doesn’t let on.

My throat is dry. I can’t remember the last time I drank something, I realise, right before my lungs explode into a coughing fit. The gunshot wounds pulse red-hot pain through my body and I collapse onto the bed again.

“It’s okay, Liz, here. You’ll be okay.” She reaches over and grabs a glass of water from the nightstand, before handing it to me and carefully stabilising my upper body. The cool water runs through my parched mouth and somehow it calms my panicked nerves.

Right as she places the glass back on the nightstand, the door opens again, gently, and a small whimper leaves my throat as I see him. He’s safe. He’s here with me and he is safe.

His eyes widen. “Thank god you’re awake”, he breathes and rushes over, falling to his knees next to the bed.

“I thought I’d lost you.”

My hands reach out to him and he grabs my fingers, carefully pulling them close. Something inside me shatters.

“You’re safe, you’re okay, thank god you’re okay, I –“, my words fail me as I break into sobs, “I failed you, Bucky, it was all my fault, I –“

He looks up into my eyes. “Shh. Don’t say that. I’m just glad you’re here. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

*

It’s better, now. I don’t question my sanity anymore, my reality. When I wake up at night, drenched in cold sweat, asking FRIDAY who is on my floor and she tells me it’s Steve, or Natasha, or Bucky, I believe her. I know they can’t get to me anymore.

But I have gotten wary. Paranoid, even. Sometimes I ask FRIDAY to list the people in the tower over, and over, and over again. She does. An AI’s patience, I guess. I still wake up in the middle of the night, throat screamed hoarse, seeing monsters in the shadows. Or in the too-bright lights. Feel phantom fingers press into my shoulder and force my legs apart.

The gunshots have healed well, thanks to the skilled hands of the Stark Tower’s med bay. They still hurt, sometimes. It’ll be a wrong movement and a twinge of pain will shoot through my shoulder or my stomach. I’ll grimace and pull through.

There’s new rules, too. Nobody goes in alone. Anywhere. Ever.

And I’ve been avoiding Bucky. He spent the first days keeping vigilant watch, at my bedside or outside the door. His absence hurts somewhere deep inside of me, a deeper pain than the gunshots, something the pain killers can’t reach. But I can’t look him in the eyes. If I hadn’t gone into the basement alone, none of this would have happened. I wouldn’t have endangered him.

There is an empty feeling in my chest that I will start to notice whenever it gets too quiet, whenever my brain has time to roam. I miss him. I miss our late night balcony talks when we both can’t sleep. I miss the bickering at the start and end of successful missions. But I can’t go back on missions yet. And worse than missing him is the guilt.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, told me it wasn’t my fault. Steve got all emotional. Fury short and to the point. Natasha with a sharp look in her eye. She understood. To Sam I almost spilled my heart out, he has that effect on people. And of course, Bucky. Again, and again. In the first days, when he didn’t leave me for longer than two hours, and later on, too. The few times we do meet in a hallway, when my eyes look anywhere but into his. I know he says it to ease my mind. I know that he probably even believes it, but I can’t.

He told me, once, that he remembers every single person he killed while under HYDRA’s influence. Every target, every civilian that got into the crossfire. He told me of the torture they put him through. The cryo. And because of me, he almost fell back into their grasp. And I just can’t make myself not feel guilty about it.

Some days I wordlessly stand on Sam’s doorstep, running shoes in hand, hair in a ponytail. I think he understands the need to run from my thoughts, from my brain writhing and clawing at itself. I know he wants to talk about it. He knows I don’t. And he won’t push.

The gym is empty as I step into it quietly, pulling the door closed behind my back. My eyes roam around the room.

“FRIDAY, anyone in here with me?”

A short pause, then: “You are currently the only person on this floor, Agent Jones.”

I breathe out the air I held in anticipation. I go look for a place slightly out of sight from the door, that still allows me to quickly observe the entire room. Waiting for another few seconds, I ask FRIDAY again. Still alone. Just me.

Mechanically, I go through stretches. Lunges. Sit-ups. I don’t listen to music while working out anymore, too distracting. Too easy to be surprised. Instead, I concentrate on the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Still, my mind wanders. The last couple of missions have not been great. Mostly successful, yes, but too many casualties. Not to mention the last one. I was clumsy. Careless. Not quick enough, not strong enough. Not good enough.

I find a punching bag and let loose on it. Throwing punch after punch, blow after blow, until I’m panting and sweat is dripping off my forehead, plastering strands of hair onto my skin.

Next punch.

Crying hostages.

My fist flies into the bag again.

A young woman running in front of me, staggering in her panic, then a stray bullet hits her in the head. Her vacant eyes come to rest on me as she falls.

My knuckles curl and I punch the bad again.

Bucky’s voice over my earpiece, pleading, begging.

“Jones, please. Lizzie. Tell me you’re still there.”

Skin connecting with fabric.

A green-eyed agent, sneering down at me.

“You made this almost too easy for us. He’s gonna walk right into our trap, the fool.”

I grit my teeth and my fists meet the bag again.

And again.

And again.

Dark spots dancing before my eyes.

I continue. It’s all my fault. It wouldn’t have happened if I had been stronger.

One more punch.

If I had been faster.

I feel myself swaying.

I’m not good enough.

*

I’m not out for long. My first thought when I come to results in a frantic question to FRIDAY.

The AI answers patiently. “You are currently the only person on this floor, Agent Jones.”

Same answer as always. It’s soothing, a sense of normality. Of routine. I take a look at the clock. Nine p.m. Time to take a shower and go to bed, I suppose. Not that I expect to be able to sleep. Walking to the elevator, I contemplate having Natasha knock me out cold so that I can for once experience the benevolent veil of unconsciousness.

Halfway up to my floor, the elevator stops and the doors open. Immediately I step into a defensive stance before I realise it’s just Steve. Just sweet, kind Steve, whose heart I can see break in slow motion when he sees my reaction.

“Hey, Liz.”

I sigh and my shoulders drop.

“You okay?”

I’m not sure if I will ever be the same. I’m not sure if I will ever not flinch anymore when someone I didn’t spot moves too quickly. I’m not sure if I can ever look Bucky in the eyes again. I’m not sure –

“Yeah.” I attempt a smile, but it crumbles before it can become convincing.

The elevator picks up speed and Steve leans against the wall.

“I feel like things between you and Buck have been … strained, lately.”

Putting on my best façade, I throw an innocent look his way.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, lifting his eyebrows at me, but indulging my little act.

“The two of you were different, before. Partners. Joking around, and I do understand it’s hard to fall back into it after what you went through, but Bucky …”

My eyes snap towards him.

“… I don’t know. It’s not my place to say anything.”

Whatever the hell that is supposed to mean.

“Everything is fine between Barnes and me, Steve. Same as before. I just don’t go on missions yet, so we don’t see each other as often. Right?”

He studies me for a moment, arms crossed.

“Right.” I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

When the elevator stops again, we’re on my floor, and I make my way out of the doors. Just before they slide closed again, Steve puts his foot between them.

“Liz, wait.”

I turn around, back against the wall.

“I just …” He struggles with what to say and what to keep to himself.

“Don’t let this ruin something good. Don’t let them break you, still.”

There is an ache in my chest. Deep-rooted, a few inches below my left shoulder.

“Yeah”, I manage. He studies me for a few more seconds, then he steps back and lets the elevator close between us. As soon as he is out of sight, my shoulders slump forward. Don’t let them break you, he says. They already did.

*

I wake up with a gasp. Silent terror behind my eyes. My brain making up scenarios.

Bucky came alone in this one. Unarmed. Prepared to offer himself up for me to be let go, but I know they won’t. They told me.

So they take him, and break him, and then they let him loose on me. I don’t have enough strength to run, to fight. Not like I could.

He is upon me quickly, metal arm around my throat, squeezing until there are tears escaping from my eyes.

But his eyes are his own. Tortured look behind the cold façade, eyes wide in terror. I can see he knows what he is doing. The panic of not being able to stop his body from complying.

I shake my head. Brush my hair off my sweaty face. The usual question to FRIDAY. The usual answer.

My gym clothes are still lying in a pile on the ground next to my bed and I slip into them. Need to get the images out of my head. Try to, at least.

The gym is empty. No surprise, if I am honest, it’s the middle of the night. The same time Bucky and I used to meet on a balcony, each fighting our own ghosts.

I find the punching bag again. It feels good to have an impact on something, an ounce of control over something that can’t hurt me. My muscles still burn from the last time I was down here. The bag gets pushed to the left, to the right, and I feel the skin on my knuckles heat up. Then crack open. The sharp pain crawling over my hands feels good, too. It is nothing, compared to the pain I put innocent people through. To the pain I almost put Bucky through.

The familiar dark, dancing spots creep into my vision. They beckon me with honeyed lips to give in, and I grit my teeth through the oncoming dizziness.

Behind me, a door falls shut, and I flinch and whirl around, staggering at the too-quick movement. Dark hair, slate eyes, underlined in violet. Bucky, my brain registers, before my vision blacks out for a second and I feel my knees connect with the mat below me.

He’s there in an instant, hands steadying my shoulders. The touch sends shivers down my arms. My vision clears again, and I attempt a carefree expression. The look on his face tells me he is not convinced.

“It’s fine. I’m fine”, I try to tell him with a reassuring smile.

He is on his knees before me, reluctantly letting my shoulders go. Eyes still studying my face, he huffs out a breath of air.

“So are you gonna tell me what you’re doing down here in the middle of the night?” He sits back onto his heels, still kneeling on the ground. I want to reach for him, touch him, pull him so close to me that nobody will ever get to him. Instead,, I just curl my hands into fists and cock an eyebrow at him.

“What about you?”

“Can’t sleep”, he explains, and I shrug.

“Well, there you have it.”

I can’t look directly into his eyes. He is too good at reading people, something born from trauma and survival instinct.

His hands are resting on his folded legs, metal fingers calm on top of his right hand. He’s wearing his “I woke up in the middle of the night and can’t sleep” outfit, sweatpants and a black shirt. Reminds me of the nights spent talking on the balcony. It’s like HYDRA took this from me, too, this small refuge after a day spent trying and failing to save people. The time he spent putting all the pieces of myself back together.

“So you go down here and punch a bag until you collapse?”

I shrug again, trying to keep the raging storm that is my mind inside for nobody else to see. His shoulders sag a little and he angles his head so that he can look me in the eyes.

“Can you at least look at me, Lizzie?”

Something compels me to do so. Maybe it’s the pet name. He is the only one who ever calls me Lizzie, everyone else says Liz, or J, or Agent Jones. Bucky usually only uses it when we’re alone. My mind races back to a few weeks ago.

“Jones, please. Lizzie. Tell me you’re still there.”

His broken voice replays in my head.

“Baby, please, I’m begging you –“

I only just now realise. He never called me baby before, either. I feel like I’m missing something, like the pieces are there, just out of my reach. It frustrates me.

“You’re not fine, are you?”, his smooth voice is the last straw, gently pushing into the walls I put around my heart in the last few weeks until they burst. There’s a lump the size of a tennis ball in my throat as my breath hitches and my shoulders sag and then hot tears spill out of my eyes and I can’t stop it from happening.

“Lizzie, no, hey, come here.” He holds his arms wide open and waits for me to give him permission to touch me. No pressure, just an offer. I feel my hands reach out and he wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer to his chest. My fists clench into the soft fabric of his shirt and I curl up tighter around my aching chest. He just holds me. Gentle hands stroking soothingly over my back, up, down, up again, down again. And fuck, he feels like home.

The sobs die down into quiet hitching breaths, dull stitches in my sides. Bucky remains where he is, not saying a word, just holding me.

“I feel like they broke me”, I finally gather the air to whisper into his chest. He presses his lips against my hairline, silently waiting for me to continue.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

He stirs, then.

“What for?”

“I let you down.”

It’s the first time I am saying this to anyone. I don’t know what it is that makes me tell him, of all people. But it feels right.

“No, Lizzie, you didn’t.”

I look up, blinking the tears away until I can see his eyes.

“I put you in danger. They almost got to you because of me.”

Bucky sighs. “They almost got to me through you. Not because. None of this was your fault, you know?”

I roll my eyes. “Everyone keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault and yet I let them take me, and I was the reason you came to them and for some reason, you got fucking lucky enough to not fall right back into their hands!”

His face is calm, collected, even, but I see the pain in his eyes.

“None of that happened because of you. It happened to you. What were you supposed to do, fight ten of them and get out unscathed? Nobody does that, Lizzie. It was a damn trap.”

I fist my hands into his shirt. “And I walked right fucking into it, didn’t I?”

“We all did. I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

“You don’t get it, do you? It was my fault. I knew something was wrong and I stayed down there in that goddamn basement!”

“What did you do wrong?”

I pause. He looks directly at me, eyes locked onto mine. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

Something inside me cracks.

“I let them take me even though I knew they would use me to get to you.”

My fingers are still closed into his shirt. “I tried to fight them off, I even tried to –“ My voice breaks and I swallow against the lump in my throat.

“I knew they needed me alive, so I …”

His eyes are studying me carefully and I can see the slow realisation of what I am about to tell him dawn in the back of his mind.

“One of them was careless with his gun. I tried to put a bullet through my head”, I whisper, not daring to look at him.

He inhales sharply. “Lizzie, no …”

“I was too slow.”

“Baby …”, he whispers, in a voice I have never heard from him before. He sounds small. Broken.

His arms wrap around me carefully, as if scared I might shatter if he pushes too hard. His scent envelops me, pines and leather and metal, underlined by clean linen and sweat. It’s strangely soothing.

“Please promise me you won’t do that again. I can’t – I wouldn’t even know what to do without you.”

My hand flattens against his chest, heart pounding underneath.

“It wasn’t your fault”, I whisper against him.

“No, it was. They were there for me. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

I want to grab him by the shirt and shake him, remind him it’s not his fault, it’s them, that he never did anything wrong. Instead, I just shake my head.

“We weren’t careful enough, Lizzie. We should all have expected it to be a trap. Me, Steve, Sam, too.”

“Don’t say that”, I mutter into his shirt.

“Can I tell you something?”

I nod.

“Can you look at me while I do? Please?”

I sigh, but look up at him, skin itchy from the drying tears.

“You can’t keep putting the blame on yourself whenever something goes wrong.”

My shoulders slump.

“It doesn’t make anything better, you hear me? It doesn’t help anyone. It just makes you sink deeper and deeper into your guilt. And trust me, I know what that’s like.”

He pries my fingers from his shirt and gently folds them open. His thumbs smooth over my palms, circling around the crescent scars in the soft skin.

“There is enough pain in this world, Lizzie. And you’re putting yourself through enough already. Don’t blame yourself for what happens to me, too. It’s not your fault.”

When I fall into bed later, it’s the first time in weeks that I sleep through. Probably just the exhaustion.

*

I lie awake again, the next day. This time I never even fell asleep. There’s too many faces when I close my eyes. Too many screams. The voice of a green-eyed viper.

A noise outside my room spooks me into sitting up. Slow, sluggish steps on the corridor. They stop right in front of my door, then it’s silent.

“FRIDAY, who else is on this floor?”

The AI answers dutifully. “Currently, you and Sergeant Barnes are on this floor, Agent Jones.”

Bucky? It must be Bucky outside, then, anything else security would have picked up on.

A few seconds later, there is a quiet knock. I rub my eyes and fully sit up in the sheets before I answer. The door opens, just far enough for him to stick his head through.

“Heard that you’re awake. Can I come in?” His eyes look haunted.

“Sure.”

I pull the blanket closer to my body as he kneels down next to the bed.

“You can sit on the bed, you know?”

His chin resting on his left arm, he slightly cocks one eyebrow. “I did not.”

But he doesn’t move. He just looks at me and I at him, until his intense gaze gets too much to hold. My eyes roam over his face, the stubble on his chin, the curve of his jaw, the worried lines on his forehead.

“I’m so glad you’re safe”, he whispers, and my eyes return to his.

Something compels me to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, along his temple. His eyelids flutter closed. My palm comes to rest along his cheek, and he melts into the touch, my thumb caressing his cheekbone.

We just stay like this for a few minutes, for once not battling our inner demons. Savouring the peace we have in this moment, knowing the other is safe here.

It’s me who breaks the silence.

“Why’d you sit outside my door?”

He blinks a few times, adjusting to the soft lighting in my room, too bright after the darkness behind closed eyelids.

“Had a bad dream. Wanted to make sure nobody would hurt you”, he mumbles against my wrist. He lifts his right hand and I reach for it, fingers intertwining.

“I’m okay”, I whisper and he squeezes my hand.

“Sometimes I ask FRIDAY if you’re safe”, he admits and I smile. Seems we both use the AI as a support system. Although that’s what she’s there for, I guess.

He’s still kneeling before me and I shake my head.

“Come on, the ground’s a little cold, don’t you think?” I pat the blanket next to me.

“You sure?”, he mumbles and I nod. He sits up, still holding my hand. “I wouldn’t want to – “

I roll my eyes, “I offered, Bucky”, and shoot him a small smile. He shrugs and smiles back, standing up and crawling across the blanket to where I’m leaning against the headboard. The warmth he emits slowly engulfs me and it feels so safe, so much like home, that I move closer to him almost subconsciously.

“C’mere”, he mumbles and tentatively puts his right arm around my shoulders. He pulls me closer until my head lies on his chest. Intuitively, I inhale his scent, so undeniably Bucky, and sigh. Slowly, we both sink deeper and deeper into the bedding until we’re both lying down, and I curl one leg over his, foot threading between his shins. My arm comes to rest over his stomach and I feel his slow, steady breathing. It feels so right, my body against his. Like we’re made for each other.

I feel tempted to shake my head at myself for that thought. I’m tired. No idea how late it is but considering he had woken up, it has to be at least midnight. Probably past that.

“Can you promise me something?” His low voice rumbles in his ribcage, amplified by my ear pressed against his chest.

“Hm?”, I answer, half asleep.

“Next time you wanna punch a bag until your legs give out, tell me?”

I huff against his shirt. There’s a part of me that wants to scream I’m not worth his time, his concern, but the other part just misses him so fucking bad. And I’m just glad to have him back, so I nod.

“Good. Thank you. Now try and sleep, you need it.”

His steady breathing gently lulls me in.

*

The bed next to me is empty when I wake up. Immediately, I jump, heart pounding, but then I hear the shower running. He’s still here. I try to calm myself down again. The shower is turned off, and a few moments later Bucky walks through the door, hair still wet, wearing only his sweatpants. He pauses, towel in hand. A few stray droplets of water catch the light, glistening across his bare chest. I can’t help but follow the trail of muscles down, down, until my eyes get caught on the waistband of his sweatpants. I blink.

“’morning”, I rasp, clearing my throat.

A grin ghosts over his face, and I swear there is a smug glint in his eyes. “Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”

A blush creeps up my cheeks and I avert my eyes, stretching to cover up my embarrassment. “Yup.” Had to get caught ogling my team partner, didn’t I.

“For once”, I add.

His smile turns softer then, and he sits down on the edge of the bed. “I’m glad.”

We just sit there for a while, stealing glances at each other’s faces. After what feels like an eternity, he clears his throat. “Breakfast?”

*

My fists fly into the punching bag. This time, it’s not being pushed around. Bucky is standing behind it, holding it firmly in his grasp, watching me closely and giving advice when he sees fit. It’s not the first session we share. Over the last few days, we have developed some sort of a routine, one of us showing up at the other’s room wordlessly, silent terrors behind tired eyes.

My time in the gym has become less self-destructive since, with him there to keep a close watch so I don’t push myself until I black out. Instead, he eases me off my adrenaline high, pulls me back out of my spiralling brain into reality. The time spent with him slowly fills the hole left by our nightly meetings on the balcony. It helps me tire myself out, I get to sleep through most of the times I go to bed afterwards.

“I just remembered something", I start one time we take the elevator back up to our respective floors.

He’s leaning against the wall across from me, elbows propped up on the railing. Sweat still glistening on his forehead, his hair a tousled mess, despite its shortness.

His eyes flicker over to mine. “Hm?”

I clear my throat. “When I was … held hostage by HYDRA, their commander said something, I never quite understood why.”

It feels … unsettling, to talk about that day. Bucky just looks at me patiently, without pressure.

“He said it was amazing what love could do to people.”

Bucky cocks an eyebrow.

“He was talking about you. Us. He said that it was easier to get to you because they had me.”

There is something in his eyes that I can’t quite put my finger on. He looks taken aback, almost. He flexes his right hand, still looking right at me.

“And I told him he was wrong. They thought they had you all figured out, you know? Thought they could convince you to come alone just because they had me, of all people. I mean, I guess Steve would’ve been harder to catch, but you know …”

He still hasn’t said a word. I start to squirm under his gaze, slate eyes intently watching me, a muscle in his jaw twitching. It dawns on me, then, that bringing up HYDRA playing mind games is probably not the best thing. Sure, he knows, but did I have to remind him of that? I want to punch myself at the pained expression on his face.

“I’m sorry I brought it up”, I murmur, not daring to meet his eyes. He slowly exhales, and part of the tension seems to leave him.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He attempts a smile. It fails so miserably it almost hurts.

The elevator doors open with a quiet ring. As if being startled awake, Bucky suddenly straightens up and walks through the door, muttering a “Goodnight” under his breath.

I look after him confused, doors sliding closed. It feels like I lost some small part of him. The elevator picks up speed again and I make for the door as it opens on my floor.

*

That night, my dreams are haunted by the pained expression on Bucky’s face, mixed with what my brain pieced together from the few things he told me about his time with HYDRA. I wake up shaking and sit up, sweat plastering my hair to my forehead.

“FRIDAY, can you check in with Sergeant Barnes? If he’s safe?”

“Sergeant Barnes shows no sign of physical distress, Agent Jones.”

Seconds later, there is a knock. I get out of bed and walk over, opening the door. Bucky looks at me with tortured eyes that widen with worry as he takes me in. “You okay?”, he asks softly, lifting a hand to brush my hair out of my face. I nod and take a step back, allowing him into the room. He closes the door behind him and I wrap my arms around my torso, still feeling guilty for the conversation we had earlier.

He’s standing in the middle of the room, as if he doesn’t know where to sit – or if to sit at all. I sit down on the bed and study him for a while. We both start talking at the same time.

“I’m sorry that – “

“I shouldn’t have – “

We stop, sheepish smiles ghosting over both our faces. Something flutters in my chest. It’s quiet then, for a while, until he opens his mouth again.

“I’m sorry that I just left like that. Earlier.”

I shake my head. “No, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

He runs a hand through his hair and takes a step towards me, gesturing over at the bed. “May I?”

I nod, making room for him on the blanket next to me and he sits down, his weight shifting the mattress. He looks like he’s debating something in his mind, torn between one thing and another. I gently touch his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

He stills. Then he sighs. It breaks my heart seeing him this way, tense shoulders, eyes lined violet. He draws a slow and deep breath until he looks over at me. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

I blink, startled. He takes my surprise as hesitation and makes to get up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you – ” Before he can get up entirely, I wrap my hand around his wrist. He pauses, eyes flying to my hand and then to my eyes.

“Bucky.” He slowly breathes out. “Of course you can stay.”

I let go of his wrist and crawl up to the headboard, leaning back against it.

“C’mere.”

He follows, but instead of sitting next to me, he lies down, curling up with his head on the pillow. I extend my left leg and he inches closer, left hand coming to rest on my thigh. My left hand finds its way to his shoulder, tracing soothing circles over it and slowly up his neck until my fingertips are tousling his dark hair. I can’t help but muse over its softness. He sighs against my leg and I can almost see the tension leaving him, shoulders slowly slumping.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, barely audible.

“Any time, Bucky.”

*

I wake up later, barely, to his hands stroking my shoulders.

“Lizzie, hey.”

I squint and try to open my eyes further.

“Everything is fine, I just … your back is gonna hurt if you stay like that the whole night.”

I’m still leaning against the headboard.

“Mkay”, I mumble, eyes fluttering closed again. I think I hear him chuckle, then he gently picks me up and places me down on the mattress so that I’m in a proper sleeping position. My eyes blink open again when he comes to rest next to me, face inches from mine. “Thank you”, I whisper, and without thinking about it, I place a kiss on his cheek. The surprised look on his face barely registers with me, before I sink back into unconsciousness.

*

When I wake up again, it’s morning. Bucky has assumed the position I was in last night, leaning against the headboard, a hand softly placed on my shoulder. I look up at him and smile, eyes not yet fully open. He smiles back, the softest look in his eyes.

“Morning, Lizzie.”

I yawn and rub my eyes, rolling onto my back.

“You know, Bucky, I always seem to sleep better when you’re next to me.” My cheeks heat up as soon as the last words leave my mouth and I scramble to say something less embarrassing, I shouldn’t be allowed to talk until I’ve been awake for at least ten minutes, for fucks sake, but then he smiles.

“I do, too.”

The soft morning light makes him look ethereal, his eyes almost silver in the direct sun. He squints down at me, eyes roaming over my face, before settling somewhere below my eye line.

“You’re beautiful”, he says softly and I pause, before I sit up, his eyes following every movement. I can’t help but stare at him, painted in golden light, and yet he tells me I’m beautiful.

I move towards him until my knees almost touch his legs. His right hand slowly reaches out, carefully, as if to not startle me, and tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. He cups my cheek, thumb smoothing over my cheekbone and my eyes flutter closed. He moves closer, bedsheets rustling beneath his knees, and then I feel soft lips on mine. The ghost of a kiss pressing against me. My eyes fly open and immediately, he pulls back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – I just – I can’t –“

His hand leaves my cheek and it feels strangely cold. Before he can pull back further, I grab his hand. Gathering all the courage I have, I look him in the eyes.

“Kiss me, Bucky.”

He draws a shaky breath and then he is there, lips pressed against mine. I close my eyes, curling my arms around his neck, and he grabs my hips, pulling me closer, closer, onto his lap. His hands slide over my thighs to the small of my back, and then upwards, until they flatten against my shoulder blades, holding me like he needs me to live. Maybe he does. Maybe I need him, too, I wonder, as my hands find their way into his hair, pulling gently.

He pulls me closer, rocking me against his abdomen and a small, breathless sound escapes my throat. Bucky moans in response, teeth nipping at my lower lip. His tongue follows and I melt into him, hands pulling him closer towards me. Almost on instinct, I roll my hips against him again. His fingers curl into my shirt as he groans, sending a rush of blood down into my core.

We pull apart then, panting, dizzy from the lack of oxygen. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide. I shudder when his gaze meets mine. We’re still so close to each other, noses almost touching, breaths mingling between us.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to do this”, he whispers against my lips, and goosebumps trickle down my spine.

“You have?”

He nods, tongue wetting his lips. His right hand slides up around my neck, thumb smoothing over the sensitive spot right below my ear, following the curve of my jaw. I let my head fall to the side, baring my neck, eyes closing. He places a barely-there kiss against the skin, then another, tracing a line down to my collar bone.

“I’m a simple man, Lizzie. Give me a beautiful woman in a tac suit, and I’m done for.”

I chuckle and open my eyes, facing him as he lifts his head to look at me. “Really that easy, hm?”

He nods earnestly, corners of the mouth twitching up. “If she can also handle a gun? Man …” He sighs. “I suppose I’ve been in the military for too long.”

I shrug. “Well, me too, then.”

One eyebrow shoots up, then he grins, “How long you been here, Lizzie?”

I roll my eyes at him. “You know what I mean, Bucky.”

He acts as if contemplating whether or not he needs me to elaborate, then he gets a smug look on his face. “Yeah, I’ve seen how you look at me sometimes.”

I groan, hiding my face in his shoulder. His low chuckle turns into a hum when my lips meet his throat and I work my way up the same way he just did. My hands on both sides of his face. His fingers curl around my wrists and I look into his eyes.

“It’s not like I do much to hide … anything, really.”

“Anything?” He kisses the palms of my hands, holding them against his face.

“You just look good in black, Buck. Don’t tell me you don’t know it.”

He cracks a crooked grin, looking up at me through his lashes and I draw a shaky breath.

“No, I know. I’m old enough to see when a woman looks at me and likes what she sees.”

I roll my eyes at him and he chuckles.

“I’m kidding, Lizzie.”

He pulls me towards him and gently places his lips on mine. I sigh and can’t help but smile into the kiss, fingers playing with his hair. His tongue caresses my lips and I open my mouth to let him in. His hands drop to grab my hips, rocking me against him again and heat shoots through my body, lips suddenly become sloppy and desperate, my hands trying to get a hold of as much of him as possible.

He tips us to the side, keeping me close with his right arm and holding himself up with his left. Then he carefully places me onto the bed, lips never leaving mine. His fingers toy with the hem of my shirt, leaving butterfly touches on the skin below it. His mouth wanders, pressing kisses to the corners of my mouth, the underside of my jaw, underneath my ear, down the curve of my neck.

I bite my lip and my hands curl into his hair, following his movements slowly down my upper body. All the while his hands slowly push up my shirt, exposing the tender skin of my stomach. His fingertips ghost along the underside of my breasts. My breath hitches.

“That okay?”, he mutters into my ear, lips fluttering against my ear. I have to bite back a moan and can only nod. “Talk to me”, he adds.

“Fucking hell, Buck, just take my shirt off.”

He chuckles against my ear and pulls the fabric up, up, over my head. I open my eyes and catch his, roaming over the stretch of skin now exposed to him. He dips his head low to place a kiss on my chest, and then his hands are on my sides, tracing upwards. His thumb rubs over my nipple, cold metal in stark contrast to the fire inside me that he keeps feeding with each touch.

My hands pull on his hair and he moves up to me, lips pressing down and fingers caressing the soft skin. The clash of his cold hands on my chest and his warm lips against mine send a rush of blood into my lower body and I sigh into his mouth, before he leaves again. I complain until his mouth is where his fingers were just seconds before, closing around my hardened nipple, tongue rolling against it. A twinge of pleasure lets the muscles in my stomach contract and I gasp, my back arching up into him, reacting on reflex only.

His hand pushes me back against the bed, his mouth still kissing and nipping on reddened skin. Then he looks up at me and parts my legs with a knee, pushing upwards, gaze fixed on my face. He pushes further and my mouth falls open, making an effort to keep eye contact with him while he moves against me, coaxing a slow moan from deep within me. Still, I am looking directly at him. His lips part. I prop myself up on my elbows and only when my mouth meets his, I close my eyes.

“You’re gonna drive me insane, one day”, he mumbles between kisses and I smile lazily, lowering myself back down.

“Am I, now?”

I like the feeling of having him wrapped around my little finger and he knows it, sees it in the glint in my eyes and the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Hands placed on both sides of my body, he moves his knee against me again and I gasp.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, Lizzie.”

Then he dips down, kissing a trail down my stomach until he hits the hem of my sweatpants. He sits back onto his heels and hooks his finger into the waistband, cocking one eyebrow. I nod again, and he pulls them down, off my feet, leaving them to fall somewhere next to the bed. His hands slide up my legs until they meet the line of my panties and my breath hitches when his rough fingers touch the soft skin of my thighs. His lips follow his hands and now I am panting, head falling back when he follows the outline of the fabric against my skin. His hands placed on my thighs, his mouth placing lazy kisses against my stomach, and suddenly his thumbs stroke down my core, my back arching off the bedsheets.

He takes his hands off me, then, and I groan, propping myself up onto my elbows again.

“Quit teasing.”

He hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and cocks an eyebrow, waiting for my reaction.

“Talk to me, Lizzie. What do you want?”

I draw in a shaky breath, looking down at him with heavy eyelids. “Take them off.”

He obeys, pulling the fabric off along my legs and discarding it as well. He looks at me again and I groan, head falling back. He just waits until I’m squirming under him, and even then he doesn’t touch me. I lift my head again and he brings his head down to my thighs, peppering them with small kisses, just enough to make me breathe heavily but not where I actually want him.

“Bucky …”, I whine, and he hums against my skin.

“What do you want, Lizzie?”

“For you to use that snarky tongue of yours.” I get a chuckle from him for that.

“You’re bossy”, he mutters between kisses and I huff, hands closing into the blanket below me. “I like when you’re bossy.”

Before I can complain, he dips his tongue between my legs and licks upwards in one long stroke. I moan loudly before I can bite my tongue, hands flying into his hair. His tongue laps over my clit in a steady rhythm and all the air leaves my lungs, hands scrambling to hold onto something, anything, and clenching into the sheets.

“Bucky …”, I moan his name and he hums against me in response, sending goosebumps down my legs.

“Happy now?”, he teases, before going back to kissing and licking and I chuckle breathlessly.

“Almost.”

This time I don’t have to explain. He understands anyways and slowly slides a finger into me. I almost see stars for a second. Then he curls his finger upwards and I do see stars, the knot inside me coiling tighter and tighter with every lap of his tongue. I press myself against him, relishing in the white-hot pleasure shooting through my body. My back arches off the bed, thighs pressing against his cheeks. His left hand holds me in place and he adds a second finger, following the rhythm set by his tongue. I whisper his name over, and over, and over, like a prayer, and he responds with a hum, tingling against my overly sensitive skin.

He slightly changes the angle of his fingers and I gasp, the rising feeling inside me almost at its peak.

“Bucky, wait –“, I pant, and he stops immediately, lifting his head, concerned eyes meeting mine.

“If you go on like this I can’t promise to keep it together much longer.”

He licks his lips, the sight of him between my legs alone almost enough to send me spiralling. “I don’t mind.” He dips down again and I moan loudly and pull at his hair to get him to look at me again. He looks up at me, continuing to move his fingers and I swear I’m going crazy.

“But I do”, I pant, and he stops. I tug at his hair again and he pulls his fingers out of me, before crawling up to meet me. I sigh into the kiss, butterflies in my stomach at the taste of his tongue. I pull back just enough.

“I do, because I want you, Bucky.” He blinks, inhaling sharply.

“You sure?”

I kiss him in return, not bothering with a vocal answer. He takes it as a yes, kiss deepening as my fingers fumble along the hemline of his black shirt. He leans back, takes it off, and comes back to me again.

“You got a condom?”

I nod and roll over to reach for the nightstand while Bucky takes off his pants, before leaning down and pressing soft feathery kisses along my spine. I allow myself to savour the feeling of his lips against my skin, then I turn back around. He rips the condom open with his teeth. I sit up when he lies down, his hand reaching out.

Our fingers interlace with each other, he tugs and I follow until I feel him hard against my core. I suck in a breath and he places his hands on my hips, pulling me towards him. I lean forward and reach for him, and then he is there, slowly pushing into me. His fingertips press into my skin as I slowly lower myself down. His brows are furrowed and his eyes are watching me intently. I can’t seem to look away, he’s holding me in his gaze and we both moan at the same time.

Then I place my hands on his chest and roll against him, my hair falling into my face. His hands leave my hips and reach for my breasts, pinching and thumbing over my nipples, sending sweet jolts of pleasure down to where our bodies meet. My breath comes heavy, and when he starts moving with me, my mouth falls open. He grabs my hips again and holds me in place, before he suddenly flips us so that I’m below him. My hands fly up to the headboard, trying to find something to hold on to and he grabs them, pinning them above my head. My back arches of the bed and the angle changes slightly, I can almost feel it, he almost hits the spot, just –

His metal hand reaches for my knee and pulls my leg up against his hips, pushing my thigh back against me. It’s the exact change I needed. He hits the spot again, and again, and my head falls back, a string of nonsensical words leaving my mouth. He curses underneath his breath.

“Look at me, baby, please”, he whispers and I can’t help but obey him.

He thrusts into me and my hips roll against him, meeting him halfway.

“Fuck, Bucky, I –“

He groans in response, brows furrowed, sweat on his forehead. Every muscle in my body is tense in anticipation, I feel myself tighten around him. He moves his hand from my thigh to where we’re connected, thumb smoothing over my clit, jaw set as he adjusts the angle of his hips again. He hits the spot. Once. Twice. My hands strain against his grasp and my back arches and then I feel myself explode. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes snap closed.

“Dammit, Lizzie …”, he growls as I contract around him and then he follows me down, hand gripping my waist. His breath leaves him shuddering and his hips buck. One last swipe of his thumb that has me trembling underneath him, before he removes his hand and lets go of my wrists. My hands snake down and I grab both sides of his face. He lowers himself onto his elbows, one on each side of my head, and eases into a long, satisfied kiss. His hands curl into my hair that’s sprawled around my head on the pillow and I melt against him. Then he pulls back. Opens his mouth.

“I love you.”

I pause. Did he really – my eyes open, slowly, to not break the moment. Suddenly I’m staring directly into his eyes, noses mere inches apart. I open my mouth. Close it. He sighs, pulling away to better look at me.

“I’m sorry if that was a bit … forward. But I’m tired of hiding it. And I wanted you to know that this”, he nods his head down at our entwined bodies, “means something to me.”

He loves me. All the small moments I have been repressing for the last weeks come crashing over me like a tidal wave. “I am not. Leaving you, Jones.” Suddenly I understand why he reacted the way he did when I told him about HYDRA’s comment. “It’s amazing what love can do to people.” And I really didn’t see it. Hell, even HYDRA knew. His reaction when I told him I tried to end it. “I can’t – I wouldn’t even know what to do without you.” The times he spent in the gym with me, at night. On the balcony before that. The times he sat outside my room, just keeping watch. “Had a bad dream. Wanted to make sure nobody would hurt you.”

“Can you … say something?”

I blink. Maybe I should react. That would be appropriate, I guess.

“That’s –“, my voice is rough and I clear my throat, “unexpected.” Bullshit, fucking hell, Jones.

He pulls away, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have … goddammit I had to ruin it, didn’t I?” No, you didn’t ruin anything, I just don’t know –

“I’m sorry, Lizzie, I –“

I sit up and grab his arm, pull his hand away from his face. I take his other hand, too.

“I was wondering when you had started calling me ‘baby'.”

He huffs out a breath of air and closes his fingers around my hands.

“It just … slips. I don’t even do it on purpose, I just …”, he shrugs, a pained expression on his face, and I realise what this must be like for him. He sleeps with the woman he loves, tells her, and she freezes. I take a deep breath. Fucking hell, I’m an idiot.

“I love you, too, Bucky.”

The moment I say it, I realise its truth. Its utter, crystal clear truth. His eyes go wide.

“I’m just bad with my emotions. I’m sorry”, I try to salvage some of it.

He lifts a hand up to my cheek, staring at me in utter disbelief. His thumb smoothes over my cheekbone and I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. Of course I fucking love him. I would’ve died for him. Didn’t even hesitate.

The softest of kisses brings me back down to earth. To where I am sitting naked on the bed with the man I love. I melt into it, arms curling around his neck, pulling him towards me.

“Don’t apologise for things like that”, he mumbles against my lips and touches his forehead against mine.

Then he squeezes my hand, “Be right back”, and with a peck on the lips, he gets up in the direction of the bathroom. I sigh and let myself fall back onto the sheets. There is a slight, sweet burn between my legs, a gentle reminder. I yawn, stretching in the sun like a cat that just woke up. When I open my eyes again, there’s a shadow in front of me. I blink up at him as he’s just standing there, watching, a soft smile on his face.

The sun is behind him now, lighting up bits of his hair like a halo. Sunshine suits his eyes, I realise.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking beautiful, Bucky?”, I mutter and he comes crawling over to me. There’s a slight heat to my cheeks but hell, I’m naked in front of him, and after what just happened it’s not like I can’t call him beautiful. He doesn’t seem to mind, at least.

“You’re cute, Lizzie", he responds, kissing my nose. I smile at that and pull him back down to me. We roll over onto our sides and he grabs the blanket, tucking me in and planting a kiss on my forehead. And finally, I feel like I can maybe, someday, be whole again.

[quantumlocked310]

In the Bed of Love - Chapter 2

Moodboard by the incredible @flowers-in-your-hayr!!

It’s Chapter 2! This one switches POV to Hvitty’s favorite Gorgon.

Summary: Our intrepid Hero Hvitserk, burdened with glorious purpose to prove his godhood, takes the epic journey to slaughter the Gorgons, but stumbles in love along the way.

Warnings (so far): greek mythology inaccuracies, slow burn 

Ratings + Word Count: [General - 1,765w]

Series Masterlist (contains extra notes about Greek words and some of the Gods mentioned) Now with more Gods!

Extra Relevant Note: Malakas means Asshole in Greek (according to Google Translate)

++++++++++++

The early dawn is quiet, with dew glistening off the statues in the garden, and you’re the first awake in the house. As usual you walk quietly to the dresser where you get the silk robe gifted to you from Dionysus. Enrobed you walk down to the kitchen where you take a small cup of wine and yesterday’s bread out to the garden for breakfast.

There are a few stumps scattered amongst the statues, and you sit on the one closest to one of your favorite statues. Malakas the goose, who thought himself brave one day as he bit the ankles of your sister, Sten. You and Marmor had collapsed together laughing at the swiftest of you being chased at length by the ornery goose. Sten had yelled and screamed at it, to no avail, before finally giving in and glaring it to stone, and proclaiming his name Malakas.

“Good morning, friend.” You greet the goose and pat it on the head, but notice there’s something different about him today. Inside its mouth is a piece of paper, slightly crumpled, with ink on it. You look at it puzzled, then look around the garden a little, but see no one. After dipping your bread in the wine and taking a bite, you put the cup on the stump and grab the paper. Only to immediately start coughing.

It’s a crude drawing of you standing in offense with your shield. Clearly, the artist has no skill, but it’s obvious the figure is yours both in size and you’re the only one of your sisters who can carry a shield as big as this one. You’re a little flattered, and a little suspicious. The gorgons train together every evening, but this paper wasn’t in the goose’s mouth yesterday.

After finishing the bread and wine, while staring at the drawing, a million thoughts run through your head. Foremost concern for your security, and who could be watching. The gorgons were fearsome creatures, and that attracted idiots who wished to prove themselves against a mighty foe. Hence the many armored statues around you. Then curiosity, and why this person would focus on you. Once your foes reached your gates, they usually focussed on the muscular strength of Marmor, or the svelt speed of Sten, not the chunky bulk of your body made for sturdy defence. It was useful in battle, being underestimated. But it was never an advantage for love.

Sten didn’t care about copulation or partnership, and Marmor had a sometimes-something going on with Haphaestus. You loved your sisters, and you loved your life in the Oikos, but there were days when you wanted what Aphrodite and Eros talked about or what you saw at gatherings with Dionysus. Pleasures within and beyond your dreams were always just out of reach, because you were a gorgon, a monster. The risk of loving you was too great.

Why would anyone find you beautiful enough to put on paper?

The feelings well up inside you, and burst. You crumple the drawing in your fist, a few tears escaping your eyes, and immediately regret what you’ve done. Slowly you stand and smooth the paper back out, then go back inside to place it in the drawer of your bedside table.

You put on your clothes for the day, then put on a chestplate and greaves. It’s decided, you will check the perimeter and see if you can find whoever is spying on the Oikos. On the way out you run into Sten who is weaving in the inner garden.

“I’m doing a perimeter check.”

“Would you like company?” Sten responds absentmindedly.

“I’ll be okay. Keep half an ear out in case another one of Philoctetes’ useless heroes is lurking about.”

“I dunno. The last one was cute. Maybe it’s time we had a mortal as a pet.”

You roll your eyes and counter, “I’ll be sure to mention that if I find one. I’m sure they would be willing to live under threat of getting chopped into tiny bits and fed to our snakes.”

Sten turns her head and raises an eyebrow, “You might be surprised.”

You scoff and turn to go, “I’m never surprised anymore.”

As you walk through the garden to the north side of the Oikos, you try to shake off this strange mood that the drawing has put you in. The edge of the cliff is your first stop, and you center yourself listening to the rushing waters of the Styx below. You see Charon in his ferry and raise a hand. As usual you get the most minute nod in return, and you make your way east along the forest border, taking light steps as Artemis taught you, and tuning into your snakes scenting the air.

Over halfway done, and you haven’t found anything of note. A few of the traps Sten maintains have caught small game, and you cut some of the excess string to tie them together and drape the catch over your shoulders before resetting the traps.

On the last leg of your check your snakes perk up. They sway further West and you follow, keeping your light hunting step, and making sure to draw your sword. You go further into the forest until you can no longer see the bright signal of the Oikos, and then you find it. There is a patch of disturbed leaves and earth where a small fire had been. The ashes are almost completely brushed away, and the leaves spread over to make it blend into the ground. If you did not have your snakes to guide you to the scent you would not have found it. Whoever had camped here knew how to cover their tracks.

Unfortunately, your snakes couldn’t help you track any further. They knew if something was prey, or different, but they didn’t have the skills of hunting dogs. Once you found the spot they had scented, they would not know where to track from there, and your meticulous circles around the ashes yielded no more results.

You huff to yourself and when you finally stop, your stomach gives a mighty growel and you observe the sky. You’ve missed the mid-day meal, and it was past time to start daily training. Marmor is going to be insufferable. In your haste to sate your hunger and get to training you neglect the last leg of the perimeter, much to the luck of the prowling Hvitserk who had no idea how close he came to being discovered.

When you reach the edge of the forest there’s a twang and a zing, and you twist behind the nearest tree, shield on your back, pressed against the bark. You watch the arrow dig into the wood of the tree in front of you.

“What the fuck, Sten?” You shout.

“You’re late!” Replies Marmor.

You groan to yourself then shrug the shield off your back and use its shiny metal to see where your sisters are. Slowly, you pull off your catch for dinner from around your neck, and get ready to throw them at your sisters. Raising your shield in front of your body to deflect Sten’s arrows, you launch the strung together animals over your barrier, then shove forward to put your whole weight behind your shield, in hopes that you will shock Marmor and throw her off her feet.

It works. Marmor’s annoyance has her getting thrown off briefly, and the training session really begins. You block and parry, attacking when you can, but mainly trying to cover your open spots when Sten shoots arrows toward you. You’re late, so they’re both going harder on only you.

But your head isn’t in it. The moves are harder to come into your mind than usual, your footwork not as instinctive as yesterday. An off day all because of some faceless enemy stalking in the trees. Who are you kidding, it could just be a traveller. But the way the ashes were buried has you nervous.

And the drawing. Marmor’s sword clangs against your shield just in time. How could you forget? Were they connected? Could you get away with telling your sisters about the perimeter check but not the drawing? You didn’t think so. Your gut is screaming that they’re connected.

But now your gut is screaming, because Marmor kicked you.

“Fuck you!”

“Focus up! What if an idiot hero comes here? You’re not going to win fighting them like this.”

“Oh. My. God. I know!” Your snakes start hissing as they pick up on your anger, and you keep hacking and slashing toward your sister, trying to disarm her even though you know it won’t get you anywhere.

All you want to do is stop and think for a few minutes. Plan your next moves. Figure out who is watching you and why. And why would they draw you? That’s the part that’s gnawing at you the most. There’s a weird fluttery feeling in your chest and you absolutely hate it.

You use your anger to back up your power. Attacking furiously where you would usually stay back and block. You’re reckless and Marmor gets in a few close calls with her sword. You’re trying to block a particularly vicious swing of the sword when you hear Sten call your name, the duck seems to happen in slow motion where you watch the arrow fly just past your brow, and feel the sting of a sword on your thigh. Marmor has pulled her sword down across the top of your shield and you hadn’t pulled your leg back in time.

“First blood!” Sten yells, and Marmor pulls up and stops, only looking a little apologetic.

The wound is just a scratch for you. It stings, and will heal in a few days, but first blood stops the fight.

You rest the edge of your shield on the ground and lean on it just slightly, staring at your sisters. “We have to talk. Inside. It’s not safe out here in sight of the woods.”

“You found something.” Sten remarks. You glare at her. If you’re being watched, you definitely don’t want to be heard.

“Then let’s go eat. You must be hungry, Y/N. You’ve been out all day.” Marmor says, her eyes narrowing and trying to covertly scan the treeline. She walks over and grabs the game you had thrown as a distraction earlier.

Together, you walk back to the Oikos. Quiet and a little sullen. Your sisters don’t like off days any more than you do, and they are anxious to hear what you’ve found.

++++++++++++

If you want to read other stuff I write here’s my masterlist

Taglist: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @punkrocknpearls @solinarimoon @artemiseamoon @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @southernbe @vikingstrash @ritual-unions-gotme @pomegranates-and-blood @mrsalwayswrite @jadelynlace​

[taylorswifthongkong]

Taylor Swift broke all her rules with Folklore — and gave herself a much-needed escape The pop star, one of EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year, delves deep into her surprise eighth album, Rebekah Harkness, and a Joe Biden presidency. By Alex Suskind

“He is my co-writer on ‛Betty’ and ‛Exile,’” replies Taylor Swift with deadpan precision. The question Who is William Bowery? was, at the time we spoke, one of 2020’s great mysteries, right up there with the existence of Joe Exotic and the sudden arrival of murder hornets. An unknown writer credited on the year’s biggest album? It must be an alias.

Is he your brother?

“He’s William Bowery,” says Swift with a smile.

It's early November, after Election Day but before Swift eventually revealed Bowery's true identity to the world (the leading theory, that he was boyfriend Joe Alwyn, proved prescient). But, like all Swiftian riddles, it was fun to puzzle over for months, particularly in this hot mess of a year, when brief distractions are as comforting as a well-worn cardigan. Thankfully, the Bowery... erhm, Alwyn-assisted Folklore — a Swift project filled with muted pianos and whisper-quiet snares, recorded in secret with Jack Antonoff and the National’s Aaron Dessner — delivered.

“The only people who knew were the people I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and a small management team,” Swift, 30, tells EW of the album's hush-hush recording sessions. That gave the intimate Folklore a mystique all its own: the first surprise Taylor Swift album, one that prioritized fantastical tales over personal confessions.

“Early in quarantine, I started watching lots of films,” she explains. “Consuming other people’s storytelling opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines?” That’s how she ended up with three songs about an imagined love triangle (“Cardigan,” “Betty,” “August”), one about a clandestine romance (“Illicit Affairs”), and another chronicling a doomed relationship (“Exile”). Others tell of sumptuous real-life figures like Rebekah Harkness, a divorcee who married the heir to Standard Oil — and whose home Swift purchased 31 years after her death. The result, “The Last Great American Dynasty,” hones in on Harkness’ story, until Swift cleverly injects herself.

And yet, it wouldn’t be a Swift album without a few barbed postmortems over her own history. Notably, “My Tears Ricochet” and “Mad Woman," which touch on her former label head Scott Borchetta selling the masters to Swift’s catalog to her known nemesis Scooter Braun. Mere hours after our interview, the lyrics’ real-life origins took a surprising twist, when news broke that Swift’s music had once again been sold, to another private equity firm, for a reported $300 million. Though Swift ignored repeated requests for comment on the transaction, she did tweet a statement, hitting back at Braun while noting that she had begun re-recording her old albums — something she first promised in 2019 as a way of retaining agency over her creative legacy. (Later, she would tease a snippet of that reimagined work, with a new version of her hit 2008 single "Love Story.")

Like surprise-dropping Folklore, like pissing off the president by endorsing his opponents, like shooing away haters, Swift does what suits her. “I don’t think we often hear about women who did whatever the hell they wanted,” she says of Harkness — something Swift is clearly intent on changing. For her, that means basking in the world of, and favorable response to, Folklore. As she says in our interview, “I have this weird thing where, in order to create the next thing, I attack the previous thing. I don’t love that I do that, but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I still love it.”

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: We’ve spent the year quarantined in our houses, trying to stay healthy and avoiding friends and family. Were you surprised by your ability to create and release a full album in the middle of a pandemic?

TAYLOR SWIFT: I was. I wasn't expecting to make an album. Early on in quarantine, I started watching lots of films. We would watch a different movie every night. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't seen Pan's Labyrinth before. One night I'd watch that, then I'd watch L.A. Confidential, then we'd watch Rear Window, then we'd watch Jane Eyre. I feel like consuming other people's art and storytelling sort of opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, "Well, why have I never done this before? Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines? And why haven't I ever sort of freed myself up to do that from a narrative standpoint?" There is something a little heavy about knowing when you put out an album, people are going to take it so literally that everything you say could be clickbait. It was really, really freeing to be able to just be inspired by worlds created by the films you watch or books you've read or places you've dreamed of or people that you've wondered about, not just being inspired by your own experience.

In that vain, what's it like to sit down and write something like “Betty,” which is told from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy?

That was huge for me. And I think it came from the fact that my co-writer, William Bowery [Joe Alwyn], is male — and he was the one who originally thought of the chorus melody. And hearing him sing it, I thought, "That sounds really cool." Obviously, I don't have a male voice, but I thought, "I could have a male perspective." Patty Griffin wrote this song, “Top of the World.” It's one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's from the perspective of this older man who has lived a life full of regret, and he's kind of taking stock of that regret. So, I thought, "This is something that people I am a huge fan of have done. This would be fun to kind of take this for a spin."

What are your favorite William Bowery conspiracies?

I love them all individually and equally. I love all the conspiracy theories around this album. [With] "Betty," Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that's exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people's. It's been really fun to watch.

One of the other unique things about Folklore — the parameters around it were completely different from anything you'd done. There was no long roll out, no stadium-sized pop anthems, no aiming for the radio-friendly single. How fearful were you in avoiding what had worked in the past?

I didn't think about any of that for the very first time. And a lot of this album was kind of distilled down to the purest version of what the story is. Songwriting on this album is exactly the way that I would write if I considered nothing else other than, "What words do I want to write? What stories do I want to tell? What melodies do I want to sing? What production is essential to tell those stories?" It was a very do-it-yourself experience. My management team, we created absolutely everything in advance — every lyric video, every individual album package. And then we called our label a week in advance and said, "Here's what we have.” The photo shoot was me and the photographer walking out into a field. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.

Did you find it freeing?

I did. Every project involves different levels of collaboration, because on other albums there are things that my stylist will think of that I never would've thought of. But if I had all those people on the photo shoot, I would've had to have them quarantine away from their families for weeks on end, and I would've had to ask things of them that I didn't think were fair if I could figure out a way to do it [myself]. I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a moodboard and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast.

Folklore includes plenty of intimate acoustic echoes to what you've done in the past. But there are also a lot of new sonics here, too — these quiet, powerful, intricately layered harmonics. What was it like to receive the music from Aaron and try to write lyrics on top of it? 

Well, Aaron is one of the most effortlessly prolific creators I've ever worked with. It's really mind-blowing. And every time I've spoken to an artist since this whole process [began], I said, "You need to work with him. It'll change the way you create." He would send me these — he calls them sketches, but it's basically an instrumental track. the second day — the day after I texted him and said, "Hey, would you ever want to work together?" — he sent me this file of probably 30 of these instrumentals and every single one of them was one of the most interesting, exciting things I had ever heard. Music can be beautiful, but it can be lacking that evocative nature. There was something about everything he created that is an immediate image in my head or melody that I came up with. So much so that I'd start writing as soon as I heard a new one. And oftentimes what I would send back would inspire him to make more instrumentals and then send me that one. And then I wrote the song and it started to shape the project, form-fitted and customized to what we wanted to do.

It was weird because I had never made an album and not played it for my girlfriends or told my friends. The only people who knew were the people that I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and then my management team. So that's the smallest number of people I've ever had know about something. I'm usually playing it for everyone that I'm friends with. So I had a lot of friends texting me things like, "Why didn't you say on our everyday FaceTimes you were making a record?"

Was it nice to be able to keep it a secret?

Well, it felt like it was only my thing. It felt like such an inner world I was escaping to every day that it almost didn't feel like an album. Because I wasn't making a song and finishing it and going, "Oh my God, that is catchy.” I wasn't making these things with any purpose in mind. And so it was almost like having it just be mine was this really sweet, nice, pure part of the world as everything else in the world was burning and crashing and feeling this sickness and sadness. I almost didn't process it as an album. This was just my daydream space.

Does it still feel like that?

Yeah, because I love it so much. I have this weird thing that I do when I create something where in order to create the next thing I kind of, in my head, attack the previous thing. I don't love that I do that but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I just still love it. I'm so proud of it. And so that feels very foreign to me. That doesn't feel like a normal experience that I've had with releasing albums.

When did you first learn about Rebekah Harkness?

Oh, I learned about her as soon as I was being walked through [her former Rhode Island] home. I got the house when I was in my early twenties as a place for my family to congregate and be together. I was told about her, I think, by the real estate agent who was walking us through the property. And as soon as I found out about her, I wanted to know everything I could. So I started reading. I found her so interesting. And then as more parallels began to develop between our two lives — being the lady that lives in that house on the hill that everybody gets to gossip about — I was always looking for an opportunity to write about her. And I finally found it.

I love that you break the fourth wall in the song. Did you go in thinking you’d include yourself in the story?

I think that in my head, I always wanted to do a country music, standard narrative device, which is: the first verse you sing about someone else, the second verse you sing about someone else who's even closer to you, and then in the third verse, you go, "Surprise! It was me.” You bring it personal for the last verse. And I'd always thought that if I were to tell that story, I would want to include the similarities — our lives or our reputations or our scandals.

How often did you regale friends about the history of Rebekah and Holiday House while hanging out at Holiday House? 

Anyone who's been there before knows that I do “The Tour,” in quotes, where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.

There are a handful of songs on Folklore that feel like pretty clear nods to your personal life over the last year, including your relationships with Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun. How long did it take to crystallize the feelings you had around both of them into “My Tears Ricochet” or “Mad Woman”?

I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There’s no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote “My Tears Ricochet” and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both.

How did it feel to drop an F-bomb on "Mad Woman"?

F---ing fantastic.

And that’s the first time you ever recorded one on a record, right?

Yeah. Every rule book was thrown out. I always had these rules in my head and one of them was, You haven't done this before, so you can't ever do this. “Well, you've never had an explicit sticker, so you can't ever have an explicit sticker.” But that was one of the times where I felt like you need to follow the language and you need to follow the storyline. And if the storyline and the language match up and you end up saying the F-word, just go for it. I wasn't adhering to any of the guidelines that I had placed on myself. I decided to just make what I wanted to make. And I'm really happy that the fans were stoked about that because I think they could feel that. I'm not blaming anyone else for me restricting myself in the past. That was all, I guess, making what I want to make. I think my fans could feel that I opened the gate and ran out of the pasture for the first time, which I'm glad they picked up on because they're very intuitive.

Let’s talk about “Epiphany.” The first verse is a nod to your grandfather, Dean, who fought in World War II. What does his story mean to you personally? 

I wanted to write about him for awhile. He died when I was very young, but my dad would always tell this story that the only thing that his dad would ever say about the war was when somebody would ask him, "Why do you have such a positive outlook on life?" My grandfather would reply, "Well, I'm not supposed to be here. I shouldn't be here." My dad and his brothers always kind of imagined that what he had experienced was really awful and traumatic and that he'd seen a lot of terrible things. So when they did research, they learned that he had fought at the Battles of Guadalcanal, at Cape Gloucester, at Talasea, at Okinawa. He had seen a lot of heavy fire and casualties — all of the things that nightmares are made of. He was one of the first people to sign up for the war. But you know, these are things that you can only imagine that a lot of people in that generation didn't speak about because, a) they didn't want people that they came home to to worry about them, and b) it just was so bad that it was the actual definition of unspeakable.

That theme continues in the next verse, which is a pretty overt nod to what’s been happening during COVID. As someone who lives in Nashville, how difficult has it been to see folks on Lower Broadway crowding the bars without masks?

I mean, you just immediately think of the health workers who are putting their lives on the line — and oftentimes losing their lives. If they make it out of this, if they see the other side of it, there's going to be a lot of trauma that comes with that; there's going to be things that they witnessed that they will never be able to un-see. And that was the connection that I drew. I did a lot of research on my grandfather in the beginning of quarantine, and it hit me very quickly that we've got a version of that trauma happening right now in our hospitals. God, you hope people would respect it and would understand that going out for a night isn't worth the ripple effect that it causes. But obviously we're seeing that a lot of people don't seem to have their eyes open to that — or if they do, a lot of people don't care, which is upsetting.

You had the Lover Fest East and West scheduled this year. How hard has it been to both not perform for your fans this year, and see the music industry at large go through such a brutal change?

It's confusing. It's hard to watch. I think that maybe me wanting to make as much music as possible during this time was a way for me to feel like I could reach out my hand and touch my fans, even if I couldn't physically reach out or take a picture with them. We've had a lot of different, amazing, fun, sort of underground traditions we've built over the years that involve a lot of human interaction, and so I have no idea what's going to happen with touring; none of us do. And that's a scary thing. You can't look to somebody in the music industry who's been around a long time, or an expert touring manager or promoter and [ask] what's going to happen and have them give you an answer. I think we're all just trying to keep our eyes on the horizon and see what it looks like. So we're just kind of sitting tight and trying to take care of whatever creative spark might exist and trying to figure out how to reach our fans in other ways, because we just can't do that right now.

When you are able to perform again, do you have plans on resurfacing a Lover Fest-type event?

I don't know what incarnation it'll take and I really would need to sit down and think about it for a good solid couple of months before I figured out the answer. Because whatever we do, I want it to be something that is thoughtful and will make the fans happy and I hope I can achieve that. I'm going to try really hard to.

In addition to recording an album, you spent this year supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in the election. Where were you when it was called in their favor? 

Well, when the results were coming in, I was actually at the property where we shot the Entertainment Weekly cover. I was hanging out with my photographer friend, Beth, and the wonderful couple that owned the farm where we [were]. And we realized really early into the night that we weren't going to get an accurate picture of the results. Then, a couple of days later, I was on a video shoot, but I was directing, and I was standing there with my face shield and mask on next to my director of photography, Rodrigo Prieto. And I just remember a news alert coming up on my phone that said, "Biden is our next president. He's won the election." And I showed it to Rodrigo and he said, "I'm always going to remember the moment that we learned this." And I looked around, and people's face shields were starting to fog up because a lot of people were really misty-eyed and emotional, and it was not loud. It wasn't popping bottles of champagne. It was this moment of quiet, cautious elation and relief.

Do you ever think about what Folklore would have sounded like if you, Aaron, and Jack had been in the same room?

I think about it all the time. I think that a lot of what has happened with the album has to do with us all being in a collective emotional place. Obviously everybody's lives have different complexities and whatnot, but I think most of us were feeling really shaken up and really out of place and confused and in need of something comforting all at the same time. And for me, that thing that was comforting was making music that felt sort of like I was trying to hug my fans through the speakers. That was truly my intent. Just trying to hug them when I can't hug them.

I wanted to talk about some of the lyrics on Folklore. One of my favorite pieces of wordplay is in “August”: that flip of "sipped away like a bottle of wine/slipped away like a moment in time.” Was there an "aha moment" for you while writing that?

I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective.

Yeah, I assumed you wrote "Cardigan" first.

It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

"I almost didn't process it as an album," says Taylor Swift of making Folklore. "And it's still hard for me to process as an entity or a commodity, because [it] was just my daydream space."

On the flip side, "Peace" is bit more defined in terms of how one approaches a relationship. There's this really striking line, "The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me/Would it be enough if I can never give you peace?" How did that line come to you?

I'm really proud of that one too. I heard the track immediately. Aaron sent it to me, and it had this immediate sense of serenity running through it. The first word that popped into my head was peace, but I thought that it would be too on-the-nose to sing about being calm, or to sing about serenity, or to sing about finding peace with someone. Because you have this very conflicted, very dramatic conflict-written lyric paired with this very, very calming sound of the instrumental. But, "The devil's in the details," is one of those phrases that I've written down over the years. That's a common phrase that is used in the English language every day. And I just thought it sounded really cool because of the D, D sound. And I thought, "I'll hang onto those in a list, and then, I'll finally find the right place for them in a story." I think that's how a lot of people feel where it's like, "Yeah, the devil's in the details. Everybody's complex when you look under the hood of the car." But basically saying, "I'm there for you if you want that, if this complexity is what you want."

There's another clever turn-of-phrase on "This is Me Trying." "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/I have a lot of regrets about that." That feels like a nod toward your fans, and some of the feelings you had about retreating from the public sphere.

Absolutely. I think I was writing from three different characters' perspectives, one who's going through that; I was channeling the emotions I was feeling in 2016, 2017, where I just felt like I was worth absolutely nothing. And then, the second verse is about dealing with addiction and issues with struggling every day. And every second of the day, you're trying not to fall into old patterns, and nobody around you can see that, and no one gives you credit for it. And then, the third verse, I was thinking, what would the National do? What lyric would Matt Berninger write? What chords would the National play? And it's funny because I've since played this song for Aaron, and he's like, "That's not what we would've done at all." He's like, "I love that song, but that's totally different than what we would've done with it."

When we last spoke, in April 2019, we were talking about albums we were listening to at the time and you professed your love for the National and I Am Easy to Find. Two months later, you met up with Aaron at their concert, and now, we're here talking about the National again.

Yeah, I was at the show where they were playing through I Am Easy to Find. What I loved about [that album] was they had female vocalists singing from female perspectives, and that triggered and fired something in me where I thought, "I've got to play with different perspectives because that is so intriguing when you hear a female perspective come in from a band where you're used to only hearing a male perspective." It just sparked something in me. And obviously, you mentioning the National is the reason why Folklore came to be. So, thank you for that, Alex.

I'm here for all of your songwriting muse needs in the future.

I can't wait to see what comes out of this interview.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

For more on our Entertainers of the Year and Best & Worst of 2020, order the January issue of Entertainment Weekly or find it on newsstands beginning Dec. 18. (You can also pick up the full set of six covers here.) Don’t forget to subscribe for more exclusive interviews and photos, only in EW.

[this-is-ally-and-im-confused]

ok i'm gonna try to be as detailed as possible fidkf any boy is fine! so: i'm 22, 5'10, red curly hair, green eyes, blue glasses, plus-size. i'm nonbinary so i use they/them pronouns but i don't mind being called someone's girl or boy :blush: usually i'm in just a long-sleeve shirt, a zip-up and jeans but i do really like to wear cute knee-length dresses with leggings. i also love hats and flowers in my hair, i never got over the flower crown thing. oh and pretty much everything i wear is blue!!

as for personality, i'm really shy when u first get to know me fhkjf bc i've been hurt a lot before. but if you ask me about one of my interests (disney, theater, superheroes, hockey, dolls) i'll literally ramble about it until someone makes me stop. i apologize and put myself down way too much according to my friends... i also try really hard to be a kind person and to make everyone around me happy even if i'm not. i also love physical affection like holding hands and hugs and such, it's my dream to be kissed someday... i'm very much just a disney princess lol.

perfect date... i honestly don't know! i don't love the idea of something like a movie where we don't talk the whole time... maybe like a museum or a bookstore or something? or a zoo or the aquarium! something where you can always focus on learning something if the date doesn't work out. also i would love if they bought or won me a stuffed animal, and maybe something sweet at the end (i have a huge sweet tooth!). or maybe something involving music? not a concert - again, that's way too loud and too much focusing on something other than each other. but if a song that we both like comes on, and we dance... i'd melt into a million pieces.

so, all that said: my favorite teams are the islanders, hurricanes, avalanche n bruins, but i also quite enjoy the devils, stars, and umich! tbh tho whoever u think would work is good with me. thank u sm my dear <3

Hi hi love! Sorry for the delay!

I ship you with….Sebastian Aho.

He’s a sweetheart, puppy dog, and I know he would take good care of you. He loves that you are always dressing comfy because it makes you look so soft. He is also pretty shy at first. So the two of you bond over how quiet you can be when meeting new people. Sepe never minds you rambles or your tangents. And he would never let you feel bad at him. He’s just happy that his person is so fun, create, and interesting.

*woooOo first date time*

It was going to be your first “real” date with Sepe. He had decided after months of debating his feelings–it was time to take you out and make you his. So the two of you geared up to go and see the art exhibit you had waited to see.

The two of you had gotten to the large, art-filled building about 20 minutes early. You waited in line with his hand locked in yours.

Quickly, the two of you were shuffled to the register where you proceeded to grab you admittance tickets. Sepe insisted that he pay. You obliged as long as you got to pay for the “coffee”after the museum.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to make it to the light filled room. Stunning pieces laid out around you. And you looked at Sebastian in awe. The room was mostly empty apart from a few stray couples and people. It was perfect.

As the two of you walked into the museum, sepe brought his arm around your waist (respectfully). He made little comments about the art into your ear, and almost made you cry out of laughter.

“What is with old times artists and painting penises. That can’t be normal.” He whispered as you looked at a particular piece.

Jokes and laughter spilled out of the two of you, and the museum was a bit boring at times–but none of that mattered. You were having fun with Sepe.

After the art exhibit, the two of you went for a long walk and got drinks. Jazz music flooded the streets and Sebastian took it as an opportunity to spin you around like a bad rom-com scene. Overall, it was a great 10/10 first date.

*mini moodboard*

[shaynawrites23]

Pianissimo 27.12 - Initials carved into a tree

Pairing: adult!Remus Lupin x reader

Word count: 2126

Prompt: Initials carved into a tree

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, but happy ending

Written for @darlingdelacour’s 12 Days of Angst challenge!

Moodboard is by my amazing bestie @ghosts-of-hogwarts! If you think this was good, check out her fics 😉 you won’t be disappointed!

Christmas. Usually a time of joy; of unbridled happiness inside that made you feel giddy, so much joy that you felt like you’d overflow at any moment. Yet here you were, a deep, melancholy pit having replaced the warm pot of happiness.

Christmas. A time to be with friends and family; to share the love and joy that came pouring from a seemingly endless supply in your heart. Yet here you stood, alone in the snow, with not a living soul to be seen.

Christmas. A time of warmth, a time to be carefree as a bird, to let the stress and worries of your daily life melt away like the snow falling from your boots upon entering. A time to enjoy the pleasures of life without a single vexing thought nagging at you in the back of your mind. And yet, as the first tear trickled down your cheek and you fought to keep the cracking dam holding them at bay intact, you wondered if you’d ever get to have that again.

Snowflakes floated down on the icy wind, some getting caught in your hair while the rest fell at your feet. You shivered, pulling your – or actually, your fiancé’s – beige shawl tighter around your neck, but made no move to leave, to go to a warmer place. Your eyes remained fixed upon the thick trunk of the tree before you, one of many trees standing scattered hither and thither on the snowy carpet.

The tree looked almost identical to all the rest of them, but it was only this tree which held one of your most treasured memories.

Your hand reached out to touch the wood, fingertips tracing the heart carved into the bark. The heart symbolizing your love and the promise of forever, of a life together, further reinforced by the initials carved inside it. Yours and his; Remus Lupin and (y/n) (y/l/n).

Your touch lingered over his initials. You came here daily since he passed, in an attempt to hold on to everything you had. When you stood here, even though the branches of the tree were bare, even though the landscape resembled little more than a barren wasteland, it felt as if Remus were still here, standing beside you with one arm slung over your shoulders.

You still remembered the exact day you made these markings together. The memory of that wonderful summer day in the little forest near your parents’ house was something you’d cherish forever.

Remus pulled you along, both your hands held tightly in his warm ones. You were both laughing, the happiness rolling off of you in waves.

You knew exactly where he was taking you; you went there every chance you got. It was quiet and secluded, and beautiful too. It was your peaceful shelter, your little woodland kingdom, your escape from the world. It was your spot, something only the two of you knew about.

His beautiful honey brown eyes held you captive, captive in a prison you never wanted to escape from.

You had forgotten all the little unimportant things you talked about that day. Deemed irrelevant by your brain, they had been discarded in favor of setting the most beautiful moments in stone so you’d never forget.

At one point, you were sitting between his legs as he leant against the tree, wrapping you in his warm embrace.

“Remus?” you asked tentatively.

He hummed, a signal for you to continue.

“Will- will we still be together in ten years? Like, long after we’ve left Hogwarts?”

“Always, (y/n),” his soft voice murmured in your ear. He knew about your fears, that someday he’d get bored of you or you’d fall out of love, and he was always very patient in reassuring you. “I promise that I’ll always love you. I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.”

Why did he have to be so sweet? The surge of love you felt for him made you want to laugh and cry at the same time. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest so you could offer it to him on a silver platter. You knew he wouldn’t drop it.

Instead, you settled for kissing his jaw, as it was the only part you could reach. You felt his blush before you saw it, his skin becoming even warmer than usual beneath your touch.

“You’re adorable,” you giggled, patting his burning cheek. A whine was all you received in reply as he hid his face in your neck.

“Yep, adorable.”

Perhaps you should have suspected something when he didn’t respond, but you were blissfully unaware of his intentions. Suddenly, he dug his fingers into your sides, grinning mischievously.

“Remus!” you squealed, squirming in his hold as you tried to shove him off.

He moved with you as you struggled to your feet, all the while trying to pry his hands off of your waist. Your merry laughter rang through the air, frightening away some birds, but that was the least of your worries.

At last he relented, letting you shove him back against the tree. You took a moment to admire him as you caught your breath; his grin was so bright it could rival the sun, the moon, and all the stars put together. His eyes caught the light and for a split second, they looked the exact color of spun gold. If only you could take a picture of him in that fleeting moment, cut it out and put it into a locket, and never take it off.

His face lit up even more if that was possible; lit up with an idea.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, fishing his pocket knife out of his pants pocket. “Watch this.”

And that was when he carved your love into the tree trunk; a declaration of the intense feelings you harbored for one another. A promise, a wish, a plea for a lifetime like this, a lifetime to love each other.

When he turned back towards you, stuffing the knife back into his pocket, you wasted no time jumping into his arms. He caught you, and you proceeded to press kisses to every part of his face you could reach, in the hopes that it could at least convey a fraction of your love for him.

A warm kiss on the lips spoke all the words you needed.

‘I love you too.’

Warmth. Remus meant warmth. From his natural body temperature to his smiles; from the way he looked at you with those mesmerizing honey brown eyes to the warmth of his embrace; from his favorite sweaters to the way he made tea and hot cocoa; from his love for you to all the memories you had together, everything about Remus Lupin meant warmth.

Where was the warmth now? Ever since you had received news of Remus’s passing, the warmth had disappeared. It died together with your fiancé, the love of your life. Now, everywhere you looked, everywhere you turned, you were met with nothing but bitter cold.

“(y/n)?”

You froze. That voice…

“Love?”

There it was again. You couldn’t have imagined it; there was no way you’d torture yourself like that.

You turned around then, slowly, almost afraid of what you might see. There, not even ten steps away from you, stood the spitting image of Remus Lupin.

How was this possible? He was dead, had been for the past half year. It was no figment of your imagination either; he looked real enough to touch.

“Remus…” you whispered, and he felt his heart soar.

Six months. It had been six long, trying months since he had last seen you. You looked every bit as beautiful as he remembered you. All he could hope for now was that you didn’t hate him.

After the mission, the circumstances didn’t allow him to come home, or to contact you. It was nearly torture for him to be away from you for so long. He longed to have you in his arms once more, praying to whatever deity would listen to let him return home. He endured all of it patiently, for you.

He took a couple steps closer to you, arms reaching for you tentatively. As if shaken from a trance, your entire demeanor changed and you shield away from him.

You saw the confusion and hurt in his eyes, and you hated yourself for causing it. ‘It’s not him,’ you reminded yourself. ‘It’s not him.”

“(y/n)-”

“Stay away from me.” Drawing your wand, you took a deep, shaky breath and pointed it at him. “Don’t touch me.”

He expected this, expected you to be angry with him. How could you not be, after he disappeared for so long without a trace? It stung; it felt like someone had decided to use his heart as a pincushion, but if he had to earn your forgiveness, so be it. He was determined to do anything for it.

Remus dropped to his knees, his honey brown eyes pleading for a chance. A chance to explain, a chance to love you again, a chance for… anything, anything at all.

“I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be, but please hear me out.” His hand slowly rose to push your wand aside, his eyes not leaving yours. “If I had the chance, I would have come back, or at least sent you an owl. But it was too dangerous. I couldn’t risk you getting hurt.”

“Don’t pretend to care about me,” you snarled, swatting his hands away and aligning the tip of your wand with his throat once more. “Now leave. Get out of my sight or I’ll hex you.”

You were perfectly capable of that. Your voice might be trembling but you could hex him in the blink of an eye, and both you and Remus knew this.

Neither of you moved for several moments, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

And he did.

Catching you off guard, he lunged forward, prying your wand out of your hand. You tried to pull your wrist out of his grip, but he was too strong, easily succeeding in wrestling you down to the snowy ground.

“(y/n), it’s me,” he pleaded, his own voice cracking. “It’s me, Remus.”

“No!” you cried, tears welling up in your eyes, and Remus felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “Remus is gone; he’s dead, he’s never coming back and you’re just here as a cruel prank!”

For one vital moment, Remus froze in shock, allowing you to flip him onto his back and hover over him as he had previously done to you. You had snatched up your wand from the snow as well, knowing full well you’d otherwise be no match for his strength.

Was that what they’d told you? No wonder you were so hostile towards him. Remus stared at you, speechless. You believed he was dead; that he had perished on the mission. How much grief that must have caused you… it was unimaginable.

“(y/n), love, it’s really me. Who told you I died?”

“Prove it,” you snapped. “Prove that you’re really my lover and not and apparition or some shapeshifter. Prove it.”

“Remember… remember the first time I tried to ask you out? I scribbled a note in the corner of the first page of the textbook I borrowed from you and you just missed it completely. That’s when I learned you never look at the table of contents.”

You lowered your wand, and he took it as a sign to continue.

“And the first time our times of the month aligned. Sirius and James were so scared they waited on your every command. If I remember correctly, you also ate almost all of my chocolate stash.”

He noticed you were starting to believe him, and he took the opportunity to flip you over again so he was on top.

“When you invited me over to meet your parents and I was ready to cry because of how nervous I was and how accepting they were. The time we decided to buy this house together and you told me you’d always dreamed of a house in the middle of nowhere. When I left on the mission, and you begged me not to go… but I went anyway. I’m sorry, love, I’m so, so sorry.”

Your tears finally flowed freely down your cheeks. It was him, really, truly him. He was alive, and back, and… You couldn’t form words or thoughts, you just clung onto him as you sobbed.

He wrapped his arms around you protectively, whispering soothing words in your ear.

“I’m here, my love. I’m here.”

[moonofthenight]

Everything must come to an end

Umm okay, so here is the fic posted the moodboard to a few days ago. This is two thousand words of pure angst, like really really angsty so if you decide to read it, please be aware of that. Also, I kind of want to leave it like it is, I don’t really want to write a part two to it.

Oh and this is probably not the most realistic scenario but I loved to explore it anyways.

*

I’m sorry @lumosinlove but thank you for letting me use your amazing characters

*

CW for mentions of food, lots of crying, bad mental health for some time and a general very sad atmosphere

A happy ending is never a promise, it’s a wish and ever since Leo was little, he wished for it more than anything.

The rain softly pattered against the window, waking the blonde one up, who let out a content sigh. Contrary to popular believe, Leo loved rainy days. There was nothing better than waking up in the warmth of the bed with his boys next to him, holding them safely in his arms. He already could imagine today, Finn sitting on the couch with his glasses and the nose in a book, Logan cuddling Finn to oblivion, while he made them something to eat. But if he only knew…

He felt Finn’s hand moving in his, a sign that he was waking up too. Leo pushed himself up with one arm, careful not to wake Logan up, reaching over to brush Finn’s hair from his forehead.

“Good morning sweetheart.”

“Mhh good morning Le.”

Finn stretched his back, his head sleepily falling down onto the pillow, making Leo chuckle.

“Wake Lo up, would you love? I will go down and make some breakfast for us.”, Leo said while getting up.

Finn nodded in response, blowing Leo a kiss, to which he leaned down and planted a real kiss on his lips in return. Finn made a soft sound, his hand finding the back of Leo’s head, pulling him closer. They parted eventually and Leo gave Finn a last kiss on the cheek before he made his way into the kitchen.

He started to prepare the bowls, humming softly while he mixed everything together. Leo flinched at the loud ringtone of his phone. It laid on the kitchen counter, exactly where he left it last night after their weekly date night.

Coach is calling…

“Good morning coach, what’s up?”

“Leo…”

His heart dropped at the tone of Arthur’s voice.

“Leo, I am so sorry but you have been traded. Come over soon so we can talk about the paperwork please.”

Leo didn’t remember what he said, he ended the call and starred at the phone in his hands. He felt… numb, as if he was stuck in one of those horrid dreams where you keep running and running and running but you never reach any end. He managed to put the phone back down but when he looked up, all he could do was to stare blankly at the wall. He didn’t cry, it still felt too surreal.

Leo could faintly discern Logan and Finn moving towards the kitchen, their laughter echoing from the walls right into his heart. The happy sound stopped the moment the two entered the kitchen, seeing Leo standing there. Both of them knew something was wrong.

“I got traded.”

It was simple as that and now it was finally sinking in. He got traded, he got-

“No please tell me this is some sick joke", a bitter laugh escaped Logan’s mouth, both him and Finn stopping dead in their tracks.

“It’s not”, his voice broke and he looked towards them, the tears already running down his face.

Logan immediately started sobbing, his eyes filled with fear and helplessness. At the same time, Finn moved to pull Leo into a hug, his wet cheek pressing against Leo’s collarbone. All of them were crying by now, it was an ugly picture but so was the situation.  

“This doesn’t make any sense. You haven’t even been playing long with us”, Finn muttered against Leo’s skin.

“We can’t let them take you away from us. What are we without you by our side?”

“We can do it. We have to”, Logan said through his tears, his hand reaching out to wipe away Leo’s tears.

Leo didn’t answer.

Can we?

“I think I need some time for myself, okay?”, he said and leaned into Logan’s touch for a second before removing himself out of the hug.

He walked out of the kitchen but as he turned around again, Logan and Finn were already in each other’s arms, rocking from side to side. He could hear a faint “It’s going to be alright.” But it cut off with his door falling shut.

He walked towards his bed, falling down face first and just laid there. He gave himself a few minutes to breathe, his mind was blank. He was so so scared. He couldn’t do anything. He didn’t know how and if this was going to work out, hearts are going to break either way.

He lifted his head a bit, reaching out for the phone he carelessly threw onto the bed.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up

“Lupin?”

“Cap? Did I call the wrong number?”

“No, you didn’t. Is everything alright? You sound a bit off.”

“No, yes. Can you just pass the phone to Remus please?”, his voice sounded so small but he heard shuffling and some swearing before the other Lupin was on the phone.

“Knutty, what’s up?”

“Re…”, Leo let out a shaky breath. Remus didn’t say anything else, he just waited, which is why he called him in the first place. Remus always knew what’s best.

“If- let’s say for some reason you need to move to another city on the other end of the country and Sirius is in no way able to come with you, what would you do?”

“Leo, what is going on?”

“You’ll probably find out soon enough, just answer my question please.”

“I mean. I would try to do a long distance but it’s a tough decision to make. Long distances aren’t easy. Leo, whatever is going on, try to do what you think will be best for you and listen to you heart. Love you.”

“Love you too, Re. Thank you.”

He threw his phone back into the pillows and thought about what his teammate said. The problem was, Leo’s heart was broken and what use was it to listen to a broken heart?

Maybe it would be better to call it quit. I can’t manage a long-distance relationship. I can’t.

He pushed himself off the bed, finding his way to the living room, trying not to think too much about what he was going to do to them, what he was going to do to himself. Logan and Finn were curled up together on the sofa, not crying anymore but not talking either. Leo cleared his throat, both boys looked up to him, slowly sitting up properly.

“We need to talk.”

Leo rounded the couch, sitting down between them, his heart heavy. He didn’t say anything right away but breathed, trying to stop the tears from falling again but he was failing.

“I think- I know I won’t be able to keep a long-distance relationship up. I think I need to cut myself out of this. I’m sorry.”

Leo didn’t talk around it or tried to talk it better because it wouldn’t make a thing better. This was the most painful experience and he knew he was the reason for it.

Said two froze, the comforting hand that was on his back a second ago fell down on the couch. It was dead silent. Then Logan started sobbing, his body shaking uncontrollably.

“What?”

Finn’s voice was nothing but a whisper, his eyes red and shiny.

“Leo no. No please, don’t do this to us. You can’t- we are a team, we are supposed to stay together, we-we are supposed to marry in the future, Leo-“, Logan broke down into sobs again, his face in his hands. It broke Leo’s heart into a million pieces.

Leo looked over to Finn, tears silently rushing down over his beautiful freckles, his eyes were filled with pain but also understanding.

“I’m sorry,” said Leo, his voice breaking “but I made my decision.”

He stood up, not being able to stay another second longer in the mess he made, walking into his bedroom, the lump in his throat growing.

Fuck

----

The farewell party was spot on terrible. The team gathered together at Dumo’s, trying to make the best out of the situation but there wasn’t a single thing that cheered Leo up. He was on the verge of tears the moment he stepped into the house because it just reminded him of the things, he won’t be able to see on a daily basis anymore.

Now, a few hours later, his bags were packed, the taxi was waiting downstairs. Logan and Finn stood there, right in front of him, tears in their beautiful eyes.

He gave them a small, tight smile.

“I love you,” Leo said through his tears before he looked at them one last time and closed the door behind him. The moment the door clicked shut he broke down sobbing.

Little did he know that on the other side of the door, Finn was sliding down against it, his mind trying to wrap around the things that happened, pulling Logan against his chest, trying to ease the pain they were feeling.

---

They were falling apart, slowly but surely.

The first week was okay, given the circumstances, they tried to comfort each other and there was a lot of crying. But eventually, Logan couldn’t sleep in Finn’s bed anymore, it didn’t feel right and there were too many memories connected to it. The dark spots under their eyes grew from day to day.

The team was worried but they brushed it off every time someone tied to talk to them or to get them to open up.

The problem was, it’s human nature to search for anything to blame something on. But there was no one. It wasn’t Logan’s fault, it wasn’t Finn’s, it wasn’t Leo’s, it wasn’t Arthur’s.

By the end of week two, Finn and Logan barley talked to each other and the flat was a real mess. Pizza boxes over pizza boxes, the dishes still in the sink, the windows weren’t opened for days but neither had the strength to do something about it. How could they? Everyday was a fight, going on the ice wasn’t what it was before.

But the season moved on and they had to function. Logan getting more and more aggressive on the ice, searching for something to deal with his emotions.

A few hundred miles away, Leo was watching the game in his hotel room, starring at the screen.

It had been three weeks by now and he hadn’t really talked to anyone yet.

The new team was amazing honestly, they were trying to include him and welcoming him into their circle but he couldn’t bring himself to engage with them, his walls were up again.

This wasn’t family dinner at Dumo’s, this wasn’t being chirped by Pot’s at morning practice, this wasn’t Cap threatening him with drills if he didn’t concentrate, this wasn’t screaming to Taylor Swift songs with Kasey, this wasn’t waking up with Finn and Logan next to him. He was a fucking Lion and this was not right.

So, he made a decision, maybe this time, the right one.

---

Finn was currently sitting on the couch, searching for something to watch when he heard the doorbell. He debated if it was worth it to stand up but he managed to drag himself towards the door. He nearly fainted when he saw who was standing there. He starred dumbly at his face, blue eyes starring right back at him.

“We need to talk and sort this shit out.”

[jamespotterthefirst]

I literally got so happy when I read it was Lilac's birthday. Honestly, she needs to be celebrated every single day of the year but today is a very special day and I wish nothing but the happiest of birthdays to Miss Lilac Allende.

Girl, you already know that I love and admire her more than anything and anyone in this world. I would literally die for her. She could run me over with a truck, break my heart into a million pieces, ruin my entire life and I'd still thank her. I'm literally so in love with her and it genuinely pains me that she's not real. She's so freaking pretty (you did an excellent job at choosing her FC. ADA is stunning), smart, kind, funny, charismatic, she's just so perfect. I love her so so much, you'll never understand the amount of love I have for her.

Thank you so much for creating her. She gives me so much comfort and I adore her so so so much, more than any words can say and I adore you as well for making her character so incredible, so well-thought-out and so interesting.

This is a little something I made. I know it's not that great but it's all my time and abilities allowed me to do because I am horrible at this kind of stuff lol

I hope you have the most wonderful day, darling Bree(and also, happy early birthday to you). Love you so much<3333

MAURINE!

Firstly, you have no idea how happy I am to see you and hear from you. I know things have been super busy for you. I was thinking of you and hoping things calmed down for you so you could have a much needed break.

Second, you have no idea how incredibly fortunate I feel that you connected with Lilac and that you love her as much as I do. She brought you into my life and for that, I will always cherish her.

I love you so much, my dearest! Thank you so much for all that you do. Words will never be enough to tell you how lucky I feel and how grateful I am to you 💕

This moodboard is gorgeous! It captures her spirit and aesthetic perfectly. You know her so well. And then the pièce de résistance! That P&P quote! Ma'am, you can't miss sdflkldf;ldlks;f

Thank you so much, Maurine!

[ofmermaidstories]

Hello!!!

Ahh I recently read the first chapter of 'The Sun God's Bride' and omgg I'm so sooooo excited!!!!! It looks like it's going to a fun and emotional journey!!!

I love your world building!! Its so realistic but fantastical?? Idk like it just seems sooo lovely, pls I wanna live there 😫🤲💖

I'm curious! When building a world what's your process?? Do you use references such as art and photography to build the world along with your own imagination?? I've noticed that you like to draw, do you draw concept art???

Also!! Pls I'm so in love with how you reference 'flower girl' in your work! Its such a cute and fun little nod to surrender!

Ahh I look forward to going along this journey with you!!! Super excited for the next chapter!!! 💖💖💖

Hello Anima!!!!!!

I want us to live in the Sun God world too. 😩 We could be temple brats, surely it’d be easy… swimming in pools and idk…. eating fruit, LOL. (Oh my gosh though LOL i’m…. so glad you like the florist references :’) IM SORRY GUYS, but that little joke/thread makes me way too happy so i’m just going to include it in everything LOL. like a multiverse theory — somewhere out there, a flower girl version of us is just living their best life, over and over again, falling in love a hundred different ways :’)))) )

But okay, to the crux of your ask — I like to make moodboards when starting a story!!!! I do this for everything, literally, not just fanfics (I made a moodboard for my friend’s and I’s summer trip last year LMAO no chill :’) ). But I have a weheartit account that’s like a million years old, so I use that to collect inspo. Basically, like, if I’ve decided to write something I generally know the feel of it, if that makes sense? So I use my moodboards as a way to pinpoint key visuals/feelings I wanna convey (or just for extra inspo!). Like, for instance, this is just some of the images I have saved under my Sun God board:

Not everything will make it into the final product that is the fic — but this is generally a good way to remind myself what I was trying to achieve LOL. They also have the added bonus of being the images I’ll use when I post about the chapter updates, here on tumbles!!! But as I continue to work on a story, I’ll keep adding to each board as needed — weeding out pictures that don’t work anymore, adding new ones. These are some of the latest ones for something (just like this):

My process for any kind of world building, whether it’s trying to create a fantasy world, or just expanding on a canon one is pretty much just to give myself visual keys!!! Like, I’ll make a few written notes of things in my initial outlining of stuff, but generally, I’ll know a story is sticking if I’ve driven to scribbling for it, or doing this collecting of inspo. Like, with the Todoroki x Reader fic I wanna do, after Deku’s, I’m currently in the “throw everything at the wall and see what sticks” stage:

So what I have currently is just…. flat-out inspo, Idea collecting. The earlier images I have for it are very ocean/sea based, because I started musing about this before I wrote The Widening Sky — so a lot of my oceany-inspo can be seen here, LOL, I dunno if the final product will be as…….. dependant, on the sea, for all that it starts off on a beach.

Doodling for the fics isn’t as common as it is when I’m working on something original — what I’ll draw instead, if I need to, are like, key details. So for example, this one here is — a rough idea of like, how I visualised the cove in The Widening Sky. A priestess/temple Sister sketch for a ceremony in The Sun God’s Bride. And some details from the outfits I’m going to force Y/N to wear in Chapter Four of something (just like this)! LOL

What I really like to draw is how I imagine the characters to look like — with fanfiction I don’t really need to do that, lmao, since most of our cast already exists, but I have drawn what I personally see the Readers as?? I’d never share those sketches though lmao, because I wouldn’t want anyone to like…. see that, instead of what they want. And it’s fun seeing other people’s interpretations!!!!

Saying all that, I guess the “world-building” process kind of looks like this, all together:

this is something I’ve compiled for the manuscript I currently have collecting dust lmao. Doodles, moodboard, mock covers because i’m vain LMAOOO dslkfjsdlkfjkldsfjkldsfj. I’ll have all these bits and pieces in their own folder!! they make me happy to look at ldfkjksdlfjkdlsj. I like having things in front of me, LOL.

whew this was longer than i intended dslkfjsdkljsdkljfkdlsfj i hope it was somehow enlightening??? basically — i just think of something, and then collect a bunch of pictures LOL. and if that fails, i’ll draw some. :’) Thank-you for asking me LOL, i had fun talking about my little visual aids — I’m excited for The Sun God’s Bride, too, and excited we’re starting out on it together. 💖🌷 Here’s to the adventure ahead. 🌅

[path-of-my-childhood]

Taylor Swift Broke All Her Rules With Folklore - And Gave Herself A Much-Needed Escape

By: Alex Suskind for Entertainment Weekly Date: December 8th 2020 (EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year cover)

The pop star, one of EW's 2020 Entertainers of the Year, delves deep into her surprise eighth album, Rebekah Harkness, and a Joe Biden presidency.

“He is my co-writer on ‛Betty’ and ‛Exile,’” replies Taylor Swift with deadpan precision. The question Who is William Bowery? was, at the time we spoke, one of 2020’s great mysteries, right up there with the existence of Joe Exotic and the sudden arrival of murder hornets. An unknown writer credited on the year’s biggest album? It must be an alias.

Is he your brother?

“He’s William Bowery,” says Swift with a smile.

It's early November, after Election Day but before Swift eventually revealed Bowery's true identity to the world (the leading theory, that he was boyfriend Joe Alwyn, proved prescient). But, like all Swiftian riddles, it was fun to puzzle over for months, particularly in this hot mess of a year, when brief distractions are as comforting as a well-worn cardigan. Thankfully, the Bowery... erhm, Alwyn-assisted Folklore - a Swift project filled with muted pianos and whisper-quiet snares, recorded in secret with Jack Antonoff and the National’s Aaron Dessner - delivered.

“The only people who knew were the people I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and a small management team,” Swift, 30, tells EW of the album's hush-hush recording sessions. That gave the intimate Folklore a mystique all its own: the first surprise Taylor Swift album, one that prioritized fantastical tales over personal confessions.

“Early in quarantine, I started watching lots of films,” she explains. “Consuming other people’s storytelling opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines?” That’s how she ended up with three songs about an imagined love triangle (“Cardigan,” “Betty,” “August”), one about a clandestine romance (“Illicit Affairs”), and another chronicling a doomed relationship (“Exile”). Others tell of sumptuous real-life figures like Rebekah Harkness, a divorcee who married the heir to Standard Oil - and whose home Swift purchased 31 years after her death. The result, “The Last Great American Dynasty,” hones in on Harkness’ story, until Swift cleverly injects herself.

And yet, it wouldn’t be a Swift album without a few barbed postmortems over her own history. Notably, “My Tears Ricochet” and “Mad Woman," which touch on her former label head Scott Borchetta selling the masters to Swift’s catalog to her known nemesis Scooter Braun. Mere hours after our interview, the lyrics’ real-life origins took a surprising twist, when news broke that Swift’s music had once again been sold, to another private equity firm, for a reported $300 million. Though Swift ignored repeated requests for comment on the transaction, she did tweet a statement, hitting back at Braun while noting that she had begun re-recording her old albums - something she first promised in 2019 as a way of retaining agency over her creative legacy. (Later, she would tease a snippet of that reimagined work, with a new version of her hit 2008 single "Love Story.")

Like surprise-dropping Folklore, like pissing off the president by endorsing his opponents, like shooing away haters, Swift does what suits her. “I don’t think we often hear about women who did whatever the hell they wanted,” she says of Harkness - something Swift is clearly intent on changing. For her, that means basking in the world of, and favorable response to, Folklore. As she says in our interview, “I have this weird thing where, in order to create the next thing, I attack the previous thing. I don’t love that I do that, but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I still love it.”

ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: We’ve spent the year quarantined in our houses, trying to stay healthy and avoiding friends and family. Were you surprised by your ability to create and release a full album in the middle of a pandemic? TAYLOR SWIFT: I was. I wasn't expecting to make an album. Early on in quarantine, I started watching lots of films. We would watch a different movie every night. I'm ashamed to say I hadn't seen Pan's Labyrinth before. One night I'd watch that, then I'd watch L.A. Confidential, then we'd watch Rear Window, then we'd watch Jane Eyre. I feel like consuming other people's art and storytelling sort of opened this portal in my imagination and made me feel like, "Well, why have I never done this before? Why have I never created characters and intersecting storylines? And why haven't I ever sort of freed myself up to do that from a narrative standpoint?" There is something a little heavy about knowing when you put out an album, people are going to take it so literally that everything you say could be clickbait. It was really, really freeing to be able to just be inspired by worlds created by the films you watch or books you've read or places you've dreamed of or people that you've wondered about, not just being inspired by your own experience.

In that vein, what's it like to sit down and write something like “Betty,” which is told from the perspective of a 17-year-old boy? That was huge for me. And I think it came from the fact that my co-writer, William Bowery [Joe Alwyn], is male — and he was the one who originally thought of the chorus melody. And hearing him sing it, I thought, "That sounds really cool." Obviously, I don't have a male voice, but I thought, "I could have a male perspective." Patty Griffin wrote this song, “Top of the World.” It's one of my favorite songs of all time, and it's from the perspective of this older man who has lived a life full of regret, and he's kind of taking stock of that regret. So, I thought, "This is something that people I am a huge fan of have done. This would be fun to kind of take this for a spin."

What are your favorite William Bowery conspiracies? I love them all individually and equally. I love all the conspiracy theories around this album. [With] "Betty," Jack Antonoff would text me these articles and think pieces and in-depth Tumblr posts on what this love triangle meant to the person who had listened to it. And that's exactly what I was hoping would happen with this album. I wrote these stories for a specific reason and from a specific place about specific people that I imagined, but I wanted that to all change given who was listening to it. And I wanted it to start out as mine and become other people's. It's been really fun to watch.

One of the other unique things about Folklore — the parameters around it were completely different from anything you'd done. There was no long roll out, no stadium-sized pop anthems, no aiming for the radio-friendly single. How fearful were you in avoiding what had worked in the past? I didn't think about any of that for the very first time. And a lot of this album was kind of distilled down to the purest version of what the story is. Songwriting on this album is exactly the way that I would write if I considered nothing else other than, "What words do I want to write? What stories do I want to tell? What melodies do I want to sing? What production is essential to tell those stories?" It was a very do-it-yourself experience. My management team, we created absolutely everything in advance — every lyric video, every individual album package. And then we called our label a week in advance and said, "Here's what we have.” The photo shoot was me and the photographer walking out into a field. I'd done my hair and makeup and brought some nightgowns. These experiences I was used to having with 100 people on set, commanding alongside other people in a very committee fashion — all of a sudden it was me and a photographer, or me and my DP. It was a new challenge, because I love collaboration. But there's something really fun about knowing what you can do if it's just you doing it.

Did you find it freeing? I did. Every project involves different levels of collaboration, because on other albums there are things that my stylist will think of that I never would've thought of. But if I had all those people on the photo shoot, I would've had to have them quarantine away from their families for weeks on end, and I would've had to ask things of them that I didn't think were fair if I could figure out a way to do it [myself]. I had this idea for the [Folklore album cover] that it would be this girl sleepwalking through the forest in a nightgown in 1830 [laughs]. Very specific. A pioneer woman sleepwalking at night. I made a moodboard and sent it to Beth [Garrabrant], who I had never worked with before, who shoots only on film. We were just carrying bags across a field and putting the bags of film down, and then taking pictures. It was a blast.

Folklore includes plenty of intimate acoustic echoes to what you've done in the past. But there are also a lot of new sonics here, too — these quiet, powerful, intricately layered harmonics. What was it like to receive the music from Aaron and try to write lyrics on top of it? Well, Aaron is one of the most effortlessly prolific creators I've ever worked with. It's really mind-blowing. And every time I've spoken to an artist since this whole process [began], I said, "You need to work with him. It'll change the way you create." He would send me these — he calls them sketches, but it's basically an instrumental track. the second day — the day after I texted him and said, "Hey, would you ever want to work together?" — he sent me this file of probably 30 of these instrumentals and every single one of them was one of the most interesting, exciting things I had ever heard. Music can be beautiful, but it can be lacking that evocative nature. There was something about everything he created that is an immediate image in my head or melody that I came up with. So much so that I'd start writing as soon as I heard a new one. And oftentimes what I would send back would inspire him to make more instrumentals and then send me that one. And then I wrote the song and it started to shape the project, form-fitted and customized to what we wanted to do.

It was weird because I had never made an album and not played it for my girlfriends or told my friends. The only people who knew were the people that I was making it with, my boyfriend, my family, and then my management team. So that's the smallest number of people I've ever had know about something. I'm usually playing it for everyone that I'm friends with. So I had a lot of friends texting me things like, "Why didn't you say on our everyday FaceTimes you were making a record?"

Was it nice to be able to keep it a secret? Well, it felt like it was only my thing. It felt like such an inner world I was escaping to every day that it almost didn't feel like an album. Because I wasn't making a song and finishing it and going, "Oh my God, that is catchy.” I wasn't making these things with any purpose in mind. And so it was almost like having it just be mine was this really sweet, nice, pure part of the world as everything else in the world was burning and crashing and feeling this sickness and sadness. I almost didn't process it as an album. This was just my daydream space.

Does it still feel like that? Yeah, because I love it so much. I have this weird thing that I do when I create something where in order to create the next thing I kind of, in my head, attack the previous thing. I don't love that I do that but it is the thing that has kept me pivoting to another world every time I make an album. But with this one, I just still love it. I'm so proud of it. And so that feels very foreign to me. That doesn't feel like a normal experience that I've had with releasing albums.

When did you first learn about Rebekah Harkness? Oh, I learned about her as soon as I was being walked through [her former Rhode Island] home. I got the house when I was in my early twenties as a place for my family to congregate and be together. I was told about her, I think, by the real estate agent who was walking us through the property. And as soon as I found out about her, I wanted to know everything I could. So I started reading. I found her so interesting. And then as more parallels began to develop between our two lives — being the lady that lives in that house on the hill that everybody gets to gossip about — I was always looking for an opportunity to write about her. And I finally found it.

I love that you break the fourth wall in the song. Did you go in thinking you’d include yourself in the story? I think that in my head, I always wanted to do a country music, standard narrative device, which is: the first verse you sing about someone else, the second verse you sing about someone else who's even closer to you, and then in the third verse, you go, "Surprise! It was me.” You bring it personal for the last verse. And I'd always thought that if I were to tell that story, I would want to include the similarities — our lives or our reputations or our scandals.

How often did you regale friends about the history of Rebekah and Holiday House while hanging out at Holiday House? Anyone who's been there before knows that I do “The Tour,” in quotes, where I show everyone through the house. And I tell them different anecdotes about each room, because I've done that much research on this house and this woman. So in every single room, there's a different anecdote about Rebekah Harkness. If you have a mixed group of people who've been there before and people who haven't, [the people who’ve been there] are like, "Oh, she's going to do the tour. She's got to tell you the story about how the ballerinas used to practice on the lawn.” And they'll go get a drink and skip it because it's the same every time. But for me, I'm telling the story with the same electric enthusiasm, because it's just endlessly entertaining to me that this fabulous woman lived there. She just did whatever she wanted.

There are a handful of songs on Folklore that feel like pretty clear nods to your personal life over the last year, including your relationships with Scott Borchetta and Scooter Braun. How long did it take to crystallize the feelings you had around both of them into “My Tears Ricochet” or “Mad Woman”? I found myself being very triggered by any stories, movies, or narratives revolving around divorce, which felt weird because I haven't experienced it directly. There’s no reason it should cause me so much pain, but all of a sudden it felt like something I had been through. I think that happens any time you've been in a 15-year relationship and it ends in a messy, upsetting way. So I wrote “My Tears Ricochet” and I was using a lot of imagery that I had conjured up while comparing a relationship ending to when people end an actual marriage. All of a sudden this person that you trusted more than anyone in the world is the person that can hurt you the worst. Then all of a sudden the things that you have been through together, hurt. All of a sudden, the person who was your best friend is now your biggest nemesis, etc. etc. etc. I think I wrote some of the first lyrics to that song after watching Marriage Story and hearing about when marriages go wrong and end in such a catastrophic way. So these songs are in some ways imaginary, in some ways not, and in some ways both.

How did it feel to drop an F-bomb on "Mad Woman"? F---ing fantastic.

And that’s the first time you ever recorded one on a record, right? Yeah. Every rule book was thrown out. I always had these rules in my head and one of them was, You haven't done this before, so you can't ever do this. “Well, you've never had an explicit sticker, so you can't ever have an explicit sticker.” But that was one of the times where I felt like you need to follow the language and you need to follow the storyline. And if the storyline and the language match up and you end up saying the F-word, just go for it. I wasn't adhering to any of the guidelines that I had placed on myself. I decided to just make what I wanted to make. And I'm really happy that the fans were stoked about that because I think they could feel that. I'm not blaming anyone else for me restricting myself in the past. That was all, I guess, making what I want to make. I think my fans could feel that I opened the gate and ran out of the pasture for the first time, which I'm glad they picked up on because they're very intuitive.

Let’s talk about “Epiphany.” The first verse is a nod to your grandfather, Dean, who fought in World War II. What does his story mean to you personally? I wanted to write about him for awhile. He died when I was very young, but my dad would always tell this story that the only thing that his dad would ever say about the war was when somebody would ask him, "Why do you have such a positive outlook on life?" My grandfather would reply, "Well, I'm not supposed to be here. I shouldn't be here." My dad and his brothers always kind of imagined that what he had experienced was really awful and traumatic and that he'd seen a lot of terrible things. So when they did research, they learned that he had fought at the Battles of Guadalcanal, at Cape Gloucester, at Talasea, at Okinawa. He had seen a lot of heavy fire and casualties — all of the things that nightmares are made of. He was one of the first people to sign up for the war. But you know, these are things that you can only imagine that a lot of people in that generation didn't speak about because, a) they didn't want people that they came home to to worry about them, and b) it just was so bad that it was the actual definition of unspeakable.

That theme continues in the next verse, which is a pretty overt nod to what’s been happening during COVID. As someone who lives in Nashville, how difficult has it been to see folks on Lower Broadway crowding the bars without masks? I mean, you just immediately think of the health workers who are putting their lives on the line — and oftentimes losing their lives. If they make it out of this, if they see the other side of it, there's going to be a lot of trauma that comes with that; there's going to be things that they witnessed that they will never be able to un-see. And that was the connection that I drew. I did a lot of research on my grandfather in the beginning of quarantine, and it hit me very quickly that we've got a version of that trauma happening right now in our hospitals. God, you hope people would respect it and would understand that going out for a night isn't worth the ripple effect that it causes. But obviously we're seeing that a lot of people don't seem to have their eyes open to that — or if they do, a lot of people don't care, which is upsetting.

You had the Lover Fest East and West scheduled this year. How hard has it been to both not perform for your fans this year, and see the music industry at large go through such a brutal change? It's confusing. It's hard to watch. I think that maybe me wanting to make as much music as possible during this time was a way for me to feel like I could reach out my hand and touch my fans, even if I couldn't physically reach out or take a picture with them. We've had a lot of different, amazing, fun, sort of underground traditions we've built over the years that involve a lot of human interaction, and so I have no idea what's going to happen with touring; none of us do. And that's a scary thing. You can't look to somebody in the music industry who's been around a long time, or an expert touring manager or promoter and [ask] what's going to happen and have them give you an answer. I think we're all just trying to keep our eyes on the horizon and see what it looks like. So we're just kind of sitting tight and trying to take care of whatever creative spark might exist and trying to figure out how to reach our fans in other ways, because we just can't do that right now.

When you are able to perform again, do you have plans on resurfacing a Lover Fest-type event? I don't know what incarnation it'll take and I really would need to sit down and think about it for a good solid couple of months before I figured out the answer. Because whatever we do, I want it to be something that is thoughtful and will make the fans happy and I hope I can achieve that. I'm going to try really hard to.

In addition to recording an album, you spent this year supporting Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in the election. Where were you when it was called in their favor? Well, when the results were coming in, I was actually at the property where we shot the Entertainment Weekly cover. I was hanging out with my photographer friend, Beth, and the wonderful couple that owned the farm where we [were]. And we realized really early into the night that we weren't going to get an accurate picture of the results. Then, a couple of days later, I was on a video shoot, but I was directing, and I was standing there with my face shield and mask on next to my director of photography, Rodrigo Prieto. And I just remember a news alert coming up on my phone that said, "Biden is our next president. He's won the election." And I showed it to Rodrigo and he said, "I'm always going to remember the moment that we learned this." And I looked around, and people's face shields were starting to fog up because a lot of people were really misty-eyed and emotional, and it was not loud. It wasn't popping bottles of champagne. It was this moment of quiet, cautious elation and relief.

Do you ever think about what Folklore would have sounded like if you, Aaron, and Jack had been in the same room? I think about it all the time. I think that a lot of what has happened with the album has to do with us all being in a collective emotional place. Obviously everybody's lives have different complexities and whatnot, but I think most of us were feeling really shaken up and really out of place and confused and in need of something comforting all at the same time. And for me, that thing that was comforting was making music that felt sort of like I was trying to hug my fans through the speakers. That was truly my intent. Just trying to hug them when I can't hug them.

I wanted to talk about some of the lyrics on Folklore. One of my favorite pieces of wordplay is in “August”: that flip of "sipped away like a bottle of wine/slipped away like a moment in time.” Was there an "aha moment" for you while writing that? I was really excited about "August slipped away into a moment of time/August sipped away like a bottle of wine." That was a song where Jack sent me the instrumental and I wrote the song pretty much on the spot; it just was an intuitive thing. And that was actually the first song that I wrote of the "Betty" triangle. So the Betty songs are "August," "Cardigan," and "Betty." "August" was actually the first one, which is strange because it's the song from the other girl's perspective.

Yeah, I assumed you wrote "Cardigan" first. It would be safe to assume that "Cardigan" would be first, but it wasn't. It was very strange how it happened, but it kind of pieced together one song at a time, starting with "August," where I kind of wanted to explore the element of This is from the perspective of a girl who was having her first brush with love. And then all of a sudden she's treated like she's the other girl, because there was another situation that had already been in place, but "August" girl thought she was really falling in love. It kind of explores the idea of the undefined relationship. As humans, we're all encouraged to just be cool and just let it happen, and don't ask what the relationship is — Are we exclusive? But if you are chill about it, especially when you're young, you learn the very hard lesson that if you don't define something, oftentimes they can gaslight you into thinking it was nothing at all, and that it never happened. And how do you mourn the loss of something once it ends, if you're being made to believe that it never happened at all?

On the flip side, "Peace" is bit more defined in terms of how one approaches a relationship. There's this really striking line, "The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me/Would it be enough if I can never give you peace?" How did that line come to you? I'm really proud of that one too. I heard the track immediately. Aaron sent it to me, and it had this immediate sense of serenity running through it. The first word that popped into my head was peace, but I thought that it would be too on-the-nose to sing about being calm, or to sing about serenity, or to sing about finding peace with someone. Because you have this very conflicted, very dramatic conflict-written lyric paired with this very, very calming sound of the instrumental. But, "The devil's in the details," is one of those phrases that I've written down over the years. That's a common phrase that is used in the English language every day. And I just thought it sounded really cool because of the D, D sound. And I thought, "I'll hang onto those in a list, and then, I'll finally find the right place for them in a story." I think that's how a lot of people feel where it's like, "Yeah, the devil's in the details. Everybody's complex when you look under the hood of the car." But basically saying, "I'm there for you if you want that, if this complexity is what you want."

There's another clever turn of phrase on "This is Me Trying." "I didn't know if you'd care if I came back/I have a lot of regrets about that." That feels like a nod toward your fans, and some of the feelings you had about retreating from the public sphere. Absolutely. I think I was writing from three different characters' perspectives, one who's going through that; I was channeling the emotions I was feeling in 2016, 2017, where I just felt like I was worth absolutely nothing. And then, the second verse is about dealing with addiction and issues with struggling every day. And every second of the day, you're trying not to fall into old patterns, and nobody around you can see that, and no one gives you credit for it. And then, the third verse, I was thinking, what would the National do? What lyric would Matt Berninger write? What chords would the National play? And it's funny because I've since played this song for Aaron, and he's like, "That's not what we would've done at all." He's like, "I love that song, but that's totally different than what we would've done with it."

When we last spoke, in April 2019, we were talking about albums we were listening to at the time and you professed your love for the National and I Am Easy to Find. Two months later, you met up with Aaron at their concert, and now, we're here talking about the National again. Yeah, I was at the show where they were playing through I Am Easy to Find. What I loved about [that album] was they had female vocalists singing from female perspectives, and that triggered and fired something in me where I thought, "I've got to play with different perspectives because that is so intriguing when you hear a female perspective come in from a band where you're used to only hearing a male perspective." It just sparked something in me. And obviously, you mentioning the National is the reason why Folklore came to be. So, thank you for that, Alex.

I'm here for all of your songwriting muse needs in the future. I can't wait to see what comes out of this interview.

*** For more on our Entertainers of the Year and Best & Worst of 2020, order the January issue of Entertainment Weekly or find it on newsstands beginning Dec. 18. (You can also pick up the full set of six covers here.) Don’t forget to subscribe for more exclusive interviews and photos, only in EW.

[highfivecalum]

Currents {Surfer!CH}

a/n: ok so this was supposed to be like surfer!calum but uhhh i kind of forgot that whole plot as i was writing it lmao? there’s some, like beachy themes and mentions of surfing, and i didn’t want to change the moodboard because it’s kind of relevant, but it’s not like, all about surfing. but i still hope y’all enjoy this 17k random cute calum content hehehe happy reading :)!!! (also if this flops let’s pretend it didn’t happen because i haven’ written in like months) ~~~

***

***

Currents: A body of water or air moving in a definite direction. 

Summary: Needing a change and needing to get away from her over-controlling mother, Joey moves across the world to live with her cousin in Australia, where she meets mysterious surfer boy, Calum.

***

“Joey!” Her head snapped up from her phone, a smile making its way onto her tired face at the sight of her cousin that she hadn’t seen in way too many years. Elise, Joey’s cousin who was only four years older than her, was nice enough to let her escape her life in Seattle, and stay with her in Australia for however long she pleased. “You look exhausted.”

“Yeah.” Joey laughed, pulling away from their hug, smiling down at her shorter, but older and gorgeous, cousin. She missed having her cousin around. Elise having left the city to move to Australia after meeting and falling in love with a man who was from there, Joey rarely got to see her her favorite, and only cousin on her mother’s side. “Fifteen hour flight will do that to you.”

“Right, right.” Elise hummed, picking up the three bags that Joey brought, and nodded her head in the direction of where her car was parked, still on with her hazard lights flashing. She knew they couldn’t stand there any longer and chat due to the crazy traffic that the busy airport brought. “Let’s getcha home!”

The drive from the airport to Elise’s house in the small city just outside of Sydney was only twenty minutes away, and for that Joey was thankful. All she wanted to do was take a shower to wash off the airplane smell and grime, put on her favorite t-shirt, and crawl into bed. She knew that getting used to the time difference, and sleeping off the jet lag, would take more time than she wanted it to, but, she had all the time in the world to sleep and adapt to her new, temporary home.

“So,” Elise tapped on the steering wheel and glanced at her cousin, smiling at the way she was looking at her surroundings in awe. She had never been to Australia before, and Elise remembered her reaction was the exact same the first time she visited. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Joey puffed out a breath of air and readjusted herself, turning to lean against the window of the bright yellow Jeep that Elise was driving, and pulled her legs to her chest. She twisted her lips from side to side, not knowing the answer to give Elise, since she didn’t even know herself. “No clue. Not forever, obviously, but just long enough for my mom to realize that what she’s pushing me to do is what she wants, not me.”

“Still pushing the whole lawyer thing, huh?”

“She won’t give it up.” Joey rolled her eyes. Even the mere thought of her mother pissed her the hell off. She loved her mother dearly, she really did, but she couldn’t stand the pressure and all the pushing her mother was doing. “I mean, I’m twenty-two years old, for God’s sake. I think it’s a little too late to go to law school.”

Elise giggled, nodding her head in agreement. “How is your mom? I haven’t talked to her in months.”

“Fine, I guess. Just the same neurotic, control freak, mother Jill.”

“Well, now you got me; fun, laid back, favorite cousin, Elise.”

Joey laughed, shaking her head in amusement, but still smiling at the thought of being in a new city, with her favorite cousin who lived two minutes away from the beach, thousands and thousands away from her mother.

***

The Australian sun shining through Joey’s curtain-less windows was a pleasant change from the gloomy and rainy Seattle sky that she was used to. Letting out a high pitched squeal as she stretched her tired and sore body, Joey stared up at her ceiling in complete happiness. She had been sleeping on and off for nearly a week, trying to get used to the time change and rid herself of jet lag. It seemed to be working, considering Joey felt much better that morning than all of the others.

“She’s alive!” Elise clapped her hands at the sight of a tired looking, bed-headed Joey in nothing but her oversized t-shirt that stopped mid thigh. “I was just about to go upstairs and make sure you were still breathing.”

“Not to worry. I’m all rested up now.” Joey assured her, sliding into one of the wooden chairs at the dining table, crossing her arms on the table and resting her head on them. She hummed happily, contently, at the feeling of the sun beaming down on her and the smell of bacon cooking and coffee brewing. “So,” Joey got up to pour herself a cup of coffee. “What are we doing today?”

Elise laughed, flipping the bacon over and spun around, resting her back against the counter to look at Joey. “Whatever you wanna do,” Elise winked. “We could grab some lunch and go to the beach?” Joey nodded her head in agreement, wanting nothing more than to explore her new town. “But, do you mind if my boyfriend comes with? He’s been out of town teaching surfing lessons and I told him we could hang out.”

Joey’s ears perked up at the sound of meeting Elise’s boyfriend she had heard so much about. “That’s fine.” Joey finished her coffee and put the cup in the sink. “I’ll go get ready then!” 

Joey skipped up the stairs and happily pranced to her bedroom that she loved so much. Seafoam green walls with yellow, pink, and blue objects and accent pieces to match it, a huge window taking up a whole wall, and her own small, but personal, bathroom. 

After her much needed shower, Joey let her dirty blonde hair air dry, keeping it natural in loose waves, applied her daily light amount of makeup, and dressed herself in a yellow bikini with a white, flowing cover up on top. 

She felt a bit exposed, with her bikini showing through her coverup, but Elise assured her that nobody would be staring, it was normal for people to walk around in just swimwear. That was one thing, out of many, that Joey would have to get used to. 

***

“Are we day drinking?” Joey asked as her eyes looked through the menu that Elise had already memorized, having been there a million times. The menu was endless and Joey really wasn’t sure what she was in the mood to eat. 

Elise scoffed out a laugh, Ashton’s high pitched giggle following after hers. On both of their days off they enjoyed drinking and spending time at the beach. “Is that even a question? Of course we are.” 

They ordered their respective drinks and food and made small talk while they waited for their food to be served. Clearing his throat, Ashton leaned forward and laced his fingers together. “So, Joey, tell me about yourself.” 

“Erm, what do you want to know?” Joey laughed nervously. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous, really, it was just her cousin’s boyfriend, after all. But that question always put her on edge.

“The basics.” Ashton shrugged. Joey went on to tell Ashton about herself; why she moved away, how long she was planning on staying, and so forth. 

“I’m currently job hunting,” Joey puffed out her cheeks. Job hunting was one of her least favorite things, ever. It took way too long and was way too stressful and was never promising. “El said she isn’t charging me rent, but I feel bad, so I want to pitch in and help out.”

“Oh, really? Well, I own the surf shop down the street and I’m looking for some new people to work. I have a few guys workin’ for me, but they’re more focused on the surf instructor side of the shop, so I’m in need of a cashier.” Ashton told her and Joey quirked an eyebrow. “If you’re interested, you have the job.”

“Seriously? You’ll give me a job? Just like that?”

“Why not?” Ashton shrugged. “You’re Elise’s cousin, I trust my judgement, and you.”

Joey grinned happily, clinking her glass against Ashton’s, her new boss, and felt a weight lifted off of her shoulders. She finally had a job, after a week of living there, and all she could think about was how things were finally starting to look up. 

***

Joey was nervous, to say the least, as she walked into Ashton’s shop, Surf and Co. A basic name, she thought, but that’s exactly what it was - surfing equipment, swimwear, towels, and everything else that is a beach essential. 

“Joey, hey!” Ashton waved her over to the counter where the cash register and another guy were standing. Another very attractive guy. “This is Luke,” Joey looked at him, taking in his bright blue eyes, blonde curly hair, and tanned skin. “He’ll be training you. He’s a great friend and a good teacher.”

Oh, God. Joey thought. She was already nervous for her first day and now this ridiculously attractive surfer was training her? Her body felt like it was on fire and it wasn’t just from the sun that was shining through the large window to her left. 

“Nice to meet ya, Joey,” Luke extended his hand for her to shake and she did so politely, and nervously. His smile was bright and pretty and it had Joey smiling back easily.

“Yeah, you too, Luke.”

Ashton excused himself, going to his office in the back of the store to finish some paperwork and payroll, leaving Luke to show Joey the ropes of the store. 

Joey had worked in retail before in Seattle, so she learned quite quickly how to work the register which Luke was thankful for, since it gave them time to chill out and get to know each other better, since it was a slow Monday afternoon. The store didn’t usually pick up until after three when people were starting to get off work.

“Have you made any friends yet?” Luke asked, spinning around in the wooden stool that was behind the counter. 

“Erm, not really.” Joey laughed sadly, with a small shrug. “I mean I haven’t really had time, you know? With trying to get adjusted to everything, unpacking, and trying to find a job, I’ve been a bit busy.”

Luke modded his head in understanding. “Well, at least you have Elise, right?” Joey hummed in agreement, a small smile pulling at her lips at the thought of her cousin. “She has a lot of friends, including me and the rest of the guys, so I’m sure you’ll be meeting new people soon. But, in the meantime, you can hang out with me.” Luke flashed her a beautifully blinding smile, showing off his pearly whites. 

Joey smiled at how nice and thoughtful Luke was being, even though she didn’t know who the hell the ‘rest of the guys’ were, but she was sure she would find out soon enough. 

***

The party that Elise had talked Joey into going to was in full swing. Ashton’s house was packed full of people, only three of them that Joey knew, but the alcohol was helping her let loose and her anxiety dissipated with each sip she took, even though the liquor burned her throat. 

A sudden elbow to her back had Joey spinning around to see who was behind her, though she was sure it wasn’t anybody she knew, but was surprised to see Luke. “Oh, hey.” Joey laughed. 

“Joey, hi!” Luke pulled her into a side hug, slinging his arm over her shoulder, Joey happily reciprocating the hug. He smelled like booze, which was to be expected, and she sure she did, too. “Havin’ fun?”

“I guess so,” Joey shrugged. “Don’t really know anybody here, though. And I’m not sure where Elise ran off to.”

“Well,” Luke dropped his arm, taking Joey’s hand in his, pulling her along with him. “Let’s go change that!” Joey really appreciated how friendly and welcoming Luke was being, considering she was the new girl in a town where everybody knew everybody, and he could be spending his time doing anything else. “Guys, this is Joey!”

Two guys, sitting around the fire, looked up at the sound of Luke’s voice, one of them smiling up at the girl that Luke was introducing, the other’s face stoic, never changing. 

“Nice t’meet you, Joey! I’m Michael.” He stood up, shaking her hand happily, Michael grinned at her. He, too, like every other male in Australia, it seemed, was also quite cute with a contagious smile. “You’re Elise’s cousin, right?”

“That’s right.” Joey smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, too.”

“This is Calum,” Luke pointed in the other guys' direction, Joey’s eyes following his long finger, gaze landing on the most gorgeous looking man she had ever seen, even in the darkness, she could see his face just fine from the flames from the bonfire. “You’ll be seein’ a lot of them.”

“Nice to meet you,” Joey extended her hand out to Calum as he approached her and Luke, but much to her surprise, and disappointment, all he offered her was a purse of his lips and a head nod, walking directly past her and inside the sliding doors. 

“Um,” Joey frowned. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Nah,” Luke sighed sadly. “That’s just Calum, distant and non-approachable. He’s a bit closed off around new people, but you’ll get used to him in due time, no worries.”

Luke was reassuring, kind of, but Joey still didn’t like the feeling of being brushed off by a guy who she didn’t know, and who didn’t know her. 

***

Calum couldn’t stop staring at her from across the kitchen. And he hated himself for it. “I thought you said that Joey is Elise’s cousin?” Calum asked Luke as the two of them leaned against Ashton’s kitchen counter. 

“She is.” Luke confirmed with the nod of his head. 

“So, Joey is a she?” Calum frowned, his eyes never leaving Joey, who was standing in the living room laughing at something Ashton and Michael were saying. 

“You sound disappointed.” Luke said, his voice full of amusement. 

“I just thought we would be gettin’ another dude around here to hang out with. Not-“

“A pretty girl?” Luke smirked, bumping Calum’s shoulder with his own, receiving an elbow to the ribs. Pretty was an understatement, Calum thought.

But, Calum knew that Luke was right. Joey was attractive, gorgeous even, with already slightly tanned skin, light colored, but not blonde hair, and a few tattoos scattered on her body. Even in the dim lighting, Calum could so clearly see how bright and pretty her green eyes were. 

“What’s your deal with her? You didn’t even say hi to her, you totally stiffed her, dude.” Luke frowned down at his barely shorter friend. Luke liked Joey so far, only knowing her for a few days, but he liked her vibe and her personality. He didn’t understand why, without Calum even knowing her, didn’t. 

Calum simply shrugged, pushing himself off the counter to walk away from Luke and busy himself with the other people he knew in the house, those people not being his friends, who were surrounding Joey and listening to her animatedly tell a story, with Elise joining in every so often. 

Calum was going to stay far away from her. Or at least try to. 

***

“That’s so amazing,” Joey sighed in amazement as she watched the dozens of people effortlessly surfing the waves, Elise and her friends included. She never thought she would be living on a beach, but she loved every second of it, even if it was only the second and a half week of her being there. “I wish I could be that good at something.”

“Why can’t you be?” Michael asked, looking at her behind his shaded eyes. The two of them, the only two in the group of friends that didn’t know how to surf, were sitting on the huge beach towel laid out on the sand, listening to music, and sipping Corona. 

“I have no skills,” Joey admitted with a laugh. “I especially have no skills when it comes to being in the water, you know, like, water sports.”

“You and me both.” Michael snorted. “I’ve lived here my whole life and all my friends can surf or wakeboard, and here I am, talentless and jealous.” Michael didn’t really mind, he would rather sit and do nothing and watch his talented friends, than put the time and energy into learning something new. Laziness was something he and Joey had in common.

“We should take lessons,” Joey suggested with a cheeky smile. She bumped his shoulder with his, prompting him to look at her and crack a smile. “I’ll do it if you do it.”

“Seriously?” Michael laughed, not even being able to picture himself sitting, let alone standing and riding, on a surfboard. And, really, Michael was just too lazy. He wasn’t ashamed to admit it. “I would probably break my neck, so I’m gonna have to pass on that, Joey.”

“Pass on what?” Elise panted as she jogged up to the pair, shoving her board into the sand and collapsing down on the towel with Ashton, Luke, and Calum following her shortly after. 

“Surfing lessons,” Joey hummed happily, her head thrown back, her hair brushing the towel below her, letting the sun bake her skin. 

“You totally should!” Luke exclaimed excitedly. He would have offered to teach her, but he didn’t have enough time on his hands. “I’d give you lessons, but I’m booked for a few months, so is Ash.”

“It’s oka-“

“Calum’s not,” Ashton interrupted her quickly, kicking Calum’s foot with his own, a smirk on his face. 

“I’m not what?” Calum looked up from his phone, with furrowed eyebrows, clearly confused and clearly paying no attention to the conversation at hand. Joey wasn’t surprised, really, the two times she had been around him he had totally ignored her.  

“Booked for surfing lessons.”

“Oh,” Calum nodded. “Yeah, ‘m always open to taking new clients. Who are we talkin’ about?” 

“Joey,” Luke smiled knowingly. He wanted the two of them to get to know each other better, wanted Calum to befriend her like he and the rest of the guys did so easily, and he knew that Calum was trying to keep his distance. But why? Luke didn’t know. And he was determined to change that.

Calum let out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with Joey who was directly across from him, biting his lower lip at the nervous expression on her face. “Fine.” Calum knew he couldn’t get out of it, and neither could Joey. 

***

“Hey,” Joey stood up, wiping the sand off of her bikini bottom clad butt, smiling nervously at Calum. He didn’t look too pleased to be there and Joey knew that he was doing this against his will. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Whatever.” Calum rolled his eyes, dropping his board to the sand and pulling the wax out of the pocket of his swim trunks to wax his board. “Let’s just get this over with, yeah?”

Joey frowned, but mumbled a quiet okay and followed Calum’s lead and started waxing the board that Elise had lent to her for the day. She knew that once she got the hang of it, if she ever did, she would go out and buy her own board, but the spare one that Elise had would do for now. 

After learning the basics of how to stand, where to stand, and how to work the board, Calum stretched his gorgeous body, that Joey couldn’t keep her eyes off of, and looked at her expectantly. He looked bored.

“You wanna get in the water today or wait until next time?”

“Um,” Joey bit her lip. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but she was going to pull the trigger, and she was burning hot under the blazing sun.  “Today?”

“You’re going to surf in that?” Calum nodded to her body and the black string bikini she had on. He had his wetsuit in the trunk of his car, always being prepared, but he figured that Joey, who had never surfed before, didn’t own one yet. But she could easily go to the store and pick one up for herself.

Joey looked down at herself, frowned, and looked back up at Calum. Tilting her head in confusion, Joey asked him, “What’s wrong with this?”

Calum laughed, though there wasn’t a hint of humor in it, and shook his head. Jesus, Ashton, Calum thought. “Leave it to Ashton to hire a clueless girl, who knows absolutely nothing about surfing, to work at a surf shop.” 

Narrowing her eyes at him, Joey crossed her arms across her chest and tilted her head to the side, glaring at him, though he was paying no attention to her. “Why don’t you like me?”

“I don’t know you, Joey.” 

“Yeah and you won’t ever get to know me if you avoid me every time we hang out.”

“Alright, let’s get one thing straight,” Calum stood up straight, eyeing her down. “We don’t hang out,” he motioned between the two of them. “You hang out with your cousin, who is dating my best friend, who I hang out with all the time. If it were up to me, we wouldn’t ever be hanging out and I would not be giving you lessons today. For free.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because Ashton and Elise would be pissed at me if I didn’t. Understand?”

“Yeah, I understand,” Joey shook her head angrily. Picking up her purse, she fished a few twenties out of her wallet and threw them in Calum’s direction, paying him for the lessons and the time wasted, even though she didn’t have to. “I understand that you’re a dick. Thanks for the lesson.”

“I don’t need your money! It’s free!” Calum yelled after her, cupping his hands around his face, as she stormed away as best as she could in her flip flops in the sand, forgetting about and leaving Elise’s spare board behind. Calum could handle getting that home to her. 

Turning around, Joey continued to walk, backwards this time, and yelled back at him, with her middle fingers up in the air. “I don’t want to owe you any favors, asshole!”

***

The Australian heat is something that Joey will never get used to. After living in Seattle for over ten years, and rarely ever going on vacations, sun was a rare thing in her life. And she loved it. 

The loud splashing into the pool had her peeling her eyes open to see Michael on Luke’s shoulders and Elise on Ashton’s, playing a game of chicken in the in ground pool in the backyard of Elise and Joey’s house. 

The lazy, but content smile on Joey’s diminished when she saw Calum walk out of the sliding doors that led out to the backyard and pool. He was invited, of course he was, but Elise was unsure if he was actually going to come, and Joey really hoped he wouldn’t. But, of course, he showed up. Two hours late. 

“Cal! You’re finally here!” Michael shouted, paying more attention to Calum than to the game, and Elise took it as her chance to push his shoulders as hard as she could and knock him into the pool. “Fuck!” Michael’s cursing was the last thing to be heard before he fell backwards into the pool. 

Ashton and Elise cheered in victory about their win as Calum made himself comfortable on one of the vacant pool chairs. Joey got up to throw away her empty beer bottle, opening her mouth to offer to get anyone a drink, when Luke came barreling toward her, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. “Luke!” Joey squealed. “Put me down!”

She pounded her small fists against his butt, making him giggle, and he returned the favor, smacking his very large hand, against her scantily bikini bottom clad butt. Not too hard, but enough to make it jiggle slightly and enough for Calum not to be able to tear his eyes off of them.

Calum watched as Luke spun Joey around, playfully smacking her butt every few seconds, causing a feeling that Calum didn’t like in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t anger, it wasn’t annoyance, he knew that, and he really hoped it wasn’t unwarranted jealousy. 

“You ready, Joey?” Joey could almost hear the mischief in Luke’s voice.

“Ready for what?” She exclaimed, not getting an answer from Luke, as he was already running and jumping into the water, submerging them both. “Luke!” Her voice rang throughout the backyard as she wiped her face clean of pool water. “You’re such a dick!”

Splashing her in the face, Luke smirked deviously, mumbling a quiet, “not as dick of a dick as Calum,” into Joey’s ear before swimming away from her. 

She almost regretted running her mouth about Calum to Luke, Ashton, and Elise while they were all at the shop, but she needed to get it off her chest before she exploded. She just didn’t understand why he hated her so much without even knowing her. 

Joey rolled her eyes but silently agreed before pushing herself out of the water. Calum’s eyes were on Joey as she wrung her hair out, her half naked body due to her very small bikini, glistening with a combination of water, sweat, and tanning oil. He had to force himself to look away from her once their eyes met. He didn’t want to stop looking at her. 

He may not have liked her, but he had to admit that she was surely a sight to be seen. Even a blind person could see that.

***

It pissed Joey off to no end how attractive she thought Calum was. His looks mixed with his accent and his tough, don’t give a shit, demeanor, was something that she found way too attractive. But his attitude towards her? A complete turn off. 

“You’re staring,” Luke leaned over to whisper into Joey’s ear. Although it wasn’t quite whispering considering they were in a loud, crowded bar with music thumping. “Again.”

“Shut up,” Joey grumbled and sipped her Jack and Coke, practically having to tear her eyes away from Calum. “It’s just not fair,” she sighed dramatically. Luke raised his eyebrows, prompting Joey to continue. “He’s so attractive but he’s such a dickhead to me for no Goddamn reason!”

Luke snorted, finishing his drink that he had been nursing, since he was voted to be the designated driver of the night. “He’ll get past it, trust me.” Luke stood up, leaving a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “How could he not like you? You’re great, Joe.”

The corners of her lips turned up and she nodded as a thank you as she now finished her drink. She, too, got up to get another drink, but Luke stopped her since he was on his way to the bathroom, he offered to get her her next drink, which she appreciated. She wasn’t in the mood to stand and wait for ten minutes to get a drink. 

Looking away from Luke, Joey and Calum’s eyes met, and she pursed her lips, and unsurprisingly, his face held no reaction. What else could she have expected? She didn’t think he would ever warm up to her. And she hated that feeling. 

***

“Why is that your name?” Calum asked, finally breaking the silence between them for the first time since they got on their boards and paddled into the water, which had been almost over an hour.

“I’m sorry?” Joey furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Your name - it’s a dude’s name.”

Joey scoffed out a laugh and shook her head, running her fingers through the still water. There hadn’t been many good waves that day, so Calum and Joey floated on their boards in silence while they waited. “It’s actually Josephine. I’ve hated it since I could say it, so I’ve always gone by Joey.”

“Why did you move here?” She looked over at Calum again, looking so perfect and natural on his surfboard, and sighed. Was he really trying to make small talk? 

“Are you asking because you’re genuinely curious or you’re just bored of the silence?”

Calum shrugged. “Little bit of both, I guess.”

That surprised Joey. Calum had never taken an interest in her life and she really didn’t think he ever would, but she didn’t mind. She appreciated it, really. And she was deathly bored of sitting in the water without speaking. 

“My mother is an overbearing control freak who tries to plan my every move,” Joey spit out without hesitation, shaking her head distastefully at the thought of her mother. “She’s been pushing me to go to law school since I was thirteen and never gave up. Finally, a few months ago, I told her I didn’t want to and I told her I needed to get away from her and from the city. A twenty minute phone call with Elise later and now I’m here.”

Calum opted to stay quiet and simply nod his head. He couldn’t imagine how stressful it was for Joey to grow up with so much pressure on her. His upbringing was much different with his parents letting him choose his own career path, letting him choose to do whatever it was he wanted to do, with their support. 

“Sounds like shit.” Was all Calum had to say. Joey couldn’t help but laugh and nod her head in agreement. Calum watched her look out at the water, the sun glistening down on her and the ocean. As his eyes trailed down her body, they caught sight of a tattoo he hadn’t noticed before. It was a date of some sort in Roman numerals. “What’s that tattoo mean?”

Joey looked down at her ribs, tracing the date lightly, a sad smile on her face that Calum could clearly see. “The date my father died.”

Calum’s lips made an O shape and he suddenly felt bad for asking and prying into her personal life. He hadn’t ever asked her personal questions before, so he really didn’t know anything about her. It was weird, for Calum, to hear Joey open up to him. 

“Hey,” Joey looked up at the sound of his voice and followed the nod of his head, looking in front of them to finally see a wave forming. “That’s all you.”

Joey swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, but pushed her anxiety to the side and paddled forward. She did everything Calum had taught her in the three lessons they’ve had, not many, but enough for her to grasp the concept of how to catch and ride a wave. Maybe not well, but she could get the job done.

The lessons paid off as Joey successfully caught and rode the wave, her excited squeals of excitement and clapping had Calum smiling at her smile and happiness against his will. He watched as she dropped into the water, popping back up just seconds later, and swam over to where Calum was sitting on his own board. Their smiles mirrored each other’s. 

“Hell yeah!” Calum held his hand up for a high-five which Joey happily gave him and she tried to paddle away, but couldn’t get any further as Calum wrapped his hand around hers and pulled her closer to him. “That was amazing, really. For your first time catching a wave - I’m impressed.”

“Thanks, Calum.” Joey blushed, but couldn’t help but smile widely, showing off her pretty and perfect teeth. “All thanks to you.”

“Please,” Calum scoffed. “You’ve got natural talent.”

Joey rolled her eyes but smiled at the man in front of her, who, for once, was being nice to her. It was a weird, one-eighty, change for the two of them to be talking and laughing together, but they both welcomed it.

The moment was perfect, really. With Joey and Calum’s faces only inches away, the sound of waves crashing, and the sight of the sun setting behind Joey and in front of Calum, it was the perfect moment, Calum thought. And he didn’t want it to slip away. 

Before he could process it, Calum’s lips were on Joey’s and before Joey could think about what she was doing, she was kissing him back. Calum couldn’t find it in himself to stop kissing her, not until he felt her hands in his hair, prompting him to pull away. 

Their breaths were heavy and their chests panting. “We, uh,” Calum’s breath fanned over Joey’s lips and her eyes fluttered shut, hoping he would press his against hers one more time. “We should get going before it gets dark out.”

With that, Calum pulled away, paddling towards the shore, leaving Joey more confused than ever. 

***

“Dude,” Elise snapped in Joey’s face, knocking her out of her daydream. Joey looked up from her nails and the chipped polish she had absentmindedly been picking at and raised her eyebrows at her cousin in question. “What is with you? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

“Ugh,” Joey threw her head back in exasperation. She had debated telling Elise about her and Calum’s weird kiss in the ocean, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to spill the beans when it really wasn’t that big of a deal. “Calum, um,” Joey cleared her throat anxiously. “I- Calum kissed me.”

“What?” Elise nearly spit her coffee out on the concrete below them. The two of them were sitting outside at the small table in the corner of their backyard, in the shade but could still feel like the sun on them, and it was nice, but the conversation about to take place was not nice. “I’m sorry - he what?”

“After I caught a wave, he seemed so happy and proud of me and I guess we got caught up in the moment and he kissed me.” Joey explained more in depth. “And then he swam away and acted like nothing happened!”

“Well, have you talked to him about it?”

Joey made a bored face. As if she had talked to him. Even if she did try to speak to him about it, she was sure he wouldn’t give her the time of day. “Yeah, right. I haven’t seen him since and I don’t have his phone number, so,” Joey trailed off in annoyance. 

“Want me to talk to him?”

“God no,” Joey shook her head quickly. She didn’t want anybody else to get involved. It was her and Calum’s mess, so they had to sort it out themselves, as civil adults. “I’ll deal with it. Eventually.”

Which was going to be hard, because Joey really didn’t think Calum could act like an adult, let alone a civil one. 

***

After the bar, Calum walked back to Elise’s with her and Ashton, and stayed for another drink, chatting and laughing with them in the kitchen. They all had a good buzz from being out, and Calum was in an even better mood since Joey was too tired to go out, so she was glued to Elise’s side like she always was. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since their weird kiss, that he, regretfully, initiated, and he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her. 

“Alright,” Calum chugged down the rest of his beer and stood up from the stool that was at the marble island, and shrugged his jacket back on. It was getting late and he didn’t want to be walking home too late, even though his house was only a ten minute walk away. “I’m outta here. See you guys later.”

“Get home safe! Love you!” Elise and Ashton yelled as he let himself out through the sliding doors that led to the backyard and a walkway directly to his own house.

He stopped in his tracks, unlit cigarette between his lips and lighter in hand, when he saw Joey, curled up under a blanket, a hoodie that he was pretty sure was his that Elise stole from him, with the hood up and weed leaf socks on her feet. Why she was outside? He had no clue. It was nice out, sure, but she had a perfectly fine bed inside just a few feet away. 

He saw the empty glass of wine on the ground next to her, as he slowly and quietly approached her sleeping body. She looked peaceful, and adorable, as she slept, which Calum hated to admit, and he didn’t want to wake her up, but it was half past one in the morning, and he didn’t want to leave her out there in the dark and with the mosquitos. 

“Hey,” Calum, crouched down to lightly shake Joey’s body, watching her stir and open her eyes, looking around in confusion. She clearly wasn’t planning on sleeping outside for the night. “Why’re you asleep out here?”

“Hmm,” Joey hummed tiredly and closed her eyes again, cuddling into herself more with her knees pulled up to her chest. Even though she was outside on a lawn chair, she was too comfy to get up. “Spider in my room. Couldn’t find it to kill it.”

Calum snorted. Typical, he thought. “C’mon, let‘s get you inside, yeah?” 

“Can’t get up.” 

“Jesus,” Calum huffed and pocketed his long forgotten, and much needed, cigarette, and stood up to his full height, taking the blanket off of her and draping it over his shoulder, effortlessly picking her up bridal style, and made his way inside. Joey was quite small, barely over one hundred and ten pounds and shorter than Calum, most people were, so carrying her was easy and effortless for him. 

Toeing her bedroom door open, Calum flicked the light switch on causing Joey to groan and hide her face in his chest. He fucking hated now nice and natural it felt. 

He had never been in her room before, didn’t have a reason to, so he looked around as he settled Joey in her bed. He had been in the room before, of course, but not since Joey made it her own. Fairy lights were hung above her bed and candles were scattered everywhere, and her bed sheets were bright white with flowers on them, unlike the boring gray ones Elise used to have on the bed. 

It seemed to fit her, Calum thought, and he caught himself smiling at the picture on her nightstand, of her and Elise when they were younger. “Wait,” Calum was stopped from walking any further, his plans on leaving Joey to sleep long forgotten as the grip she had on his wrist loosened. “Stay. Please.”

Calum was hesitant, one because Joey was nearly in a full slumber, and two because he was a little bit more than tipsy and the offer sounded way too appealing. Going against his better judgment, Calum sighed heavily and took a seat on the other side of her bed, his shoes on the floor next to him, and his body above the blankets, not under like Joey was. 

He couldn’t fall asleep, with her right next to him and her perfume in his nose, that was for damn sure. So he sat there, wide awake, staring at the ceiling. And before Joey could wake up, Calum was gone. He wasn’t sure what he regretted more; staying the night or leaving before she woke up.

***

The little bell above the door rang throughout the shop, and Joey locked and put her phone in the drawer to her left, wanting to look professional while she greeted the new customer. “Welcome to Surf and C-“ Joey’s words died on her tongue as she made eye contact with her mother, who she hadn’t seen in over a month. “Mom?”

“Josephine.” Jill smiled, though it was clearly fake, and looked around the shop. Her nose scrunched up at the sight of her daughter behind the counter, wearing a bathing suit with a see thru shirt and jean shorts on, her flip flops on the floor below her as she sat criss cross applesauce on the stool. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” Joey was shocked, to say the least. The last time she saw or spoke to her mother, they were screaming at each other and saying things neither of them meant, and would soon regret. 

“I came to see how you were doing, sweetie.” Jill rested her arms on the counter across from Joey. Joey swallowed nervously, knowing full well that her mother would have nothing good to say. “Seems like you’re doing worse than you were in Seattle.”

“Mom-“

“You could have had it all, Josephine! A good, stable, job in a law firm, not a beach shop, and a nice man in your life. What do you have here?” Jill held her arms up, motioning to the empty store she was working in. “You have nothing going for you here. Have you even met anyone you can foresee a future with?”

“Did you really travel eight thousand miles to come lecture me?” Joey asked, completely ignoring the questions her mother was asking her and the disapproval in her voice. Joey wasn’t having it. 

“I came to bring you home.”

“I’m not coming home, mom.”

“Josephine-“

“No! I’m not leaving here. Not yet.” Joey stood her ground, standing up to her mother for only the second, or third, time in her life. “You want me to leave, you want me to go to law school, you want me to find a husband. You. It has always been about you! I’m a grown woman, I’m done listening to you and your bullshit.”

Joey’s voice cracked and her eyes and nose stung and she knew she was about to start crying. Not tears of sadness, but of anger and frustration. She couldn’t stand her mother and the need for her to be perfect. Joey would never be perfect. 

“You want me to be this perfect daughter and guess what? I’m not! I’m not the daughter you want me to be and I never will be. Not as long as I’m around you.”

“Fine,” Jill rubbed her gloss covered lips together and picked up her purse from the chair next to her. Joey’s eyes were filled with unshed tears. “I just want you to know that if you do change your mind and come back to Seattle, you don’t have a place in my home anymore.”

The tears finally fell. “I don’t want one.” With that, Jill turned on her heel and stormed out of the shop, no goodbyes, no I love you’s, nothing, and Joey couldn’t find it in her to care, really. 

Once the door was shut, Joey hid her face in her hands and let the tears fall. She wasn’t sobbing, her shoulders weren’t shaking and there weren’t any loud sobs leaving her mouth, just a few tears that she shouldn’t have even been shedding over her mother. 

“Uh, hey.” At the sound of Calum’s voice, Joey’s head snapped up. Of course he was there - the last person she wanted to see. She hastily wiped at her cheeks and avoided all eye contact with him. “You okay?”

“How long have you been here?”

“Long enough.” Calum smiled innocently. “That sounded rough.”

Joey scoffed. “No shit.”

Joey wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Maybe a half ass “I’m sorry” from Calum that he didn’t entirely mean, or total silence, but sure as hell not a hug from him. It was foreign, hugging him. They had never been so close together, despite their kiss and him laying in her bed with her - both of which they acted like didn’t happen. 

“I know I don’t know the situation, but you shouldn’t let her get to you like that, yeah?” Calum mumbled, his cheek pressed against the top of Joey’s head. This is the closest, and longest, they had ever been touching each other. “I know I obviously didn’t know you in Seattle, but you seem happy here, from what I can tell. You shouldn’t let her show up here out of nowhere and fuck up your mood.”

Joey sniffled and nodded her head, her hair rubbing against Calum’s bare chest due to his wetsuit being unzipped and only hanging around his hips. “You’re right,” Joey’s voice was quiet and she figured that the goosebumps that rose on Calum’s skin were from the cold air, not her breath. “Thanks, Calum.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Luke appeared out of nowhere with a smirk on his face, and Calum, quickly and sadly, pulled away from their hug. It was too short for Calum’s liking and he found himself wanting to hold her for longer, to make her feel better after getting berated from her mother. He had no clue where these unexpected feelings came from and he didn’t want anyone to know about them. Not Luke, not Michael, not Ashton, and especially not Joey or Elise.

“Just tryin’ to cheer your friend up so she stops complaining.” Calum brushed him off, trying to act like he didn’t actually care about Joey or her feelings, which wasn’t true. Clapping him on the shoulder, Calum grabbed his surfboard and exited the shop, leaving Luke confused and Joey with an even bigger frown on her face. 

Why the fuck was he so confusing?

***

“Oh, fuck.” Calum cursed under his breath as he watched another, cocky and selfish, surfer swim up on Joey and take her wave right out from under her. There were some competitive surfers in their town, it wasn’t a secret, but Calum was hoping to avoid them while he and Joey were in the water. Calum knew that Joey wasn’t really ready to go up against any other surfers, wasn’t as strong, and he was worried about what would happen. 

It was unexpected and Joey hadn’t even seen the much bigger and better surfer swimming up next to her, too focused on trying to surf the wave she knew she could catch. Caught off guard, a guttural scream left her lips, catching the attention of Calum and the rest of the few surfers scattered around the beach. Calum was instantly alert, ignoring everything else around him as he watched Joey’s body fly through the air.

Her body hit the water, hard, her head smacking against her board and the impact from the huge wave and the pressure of the water splitting her board in half. “Fuck,” Calum cursed again as he paddled towards her, trying to see if he could spot her, but could only see one half of her board, the waves too hard and too big to be able to see her just yet. “C’mon, Joey.” Calum nervously cracked his knuckles.

The waves kept coming at her, the cord of her board still attached to her ankle and stuck in the coral that cut her leg up, and as the seconds passed, Calum grew more and more anxious. She had been under water far too long for his liking, so, ripping off his own cord, Calum dove into the water to find her. 

The salt water stung his eyes, but that was the least of his worries, all he could think about was Joey and making sure she was okay, and it wasn’t too late. He found her seconds later, eyes closed and her body floating in her own blood, and he was beyond thankful that sharks in the water they were in were rare. 

The next few seconds were a blur to Calum. He didn’t even remember pulling her out of the water and putting her on his board, quickly but safely paddling them out of the water and to the sand and screaming at the lifeguard to call an ambulance. He checked her pulse on her wrist and neck and panicked. He thanked God that Ashton made him take a CPR class in order for him to be a surf instructor, and went to work on Joey right away, trying to get her back to consciousness. 

“Come on, Joe. Don’t fuckin’ die on me.” Calum grunted, pressing his lips to hers and pushing on her chest. His panic and anxiety and worry dissipated, just the smallest amount, as Joey’s eyes fluttered open and she was sputtering water out of her mouth as she slowly sat up, coughing up all the salt water that invaded her lungs. “Oh, thank God.” Calum wrapped his arms around her, holding her head in his hands as it rested against his chest to steady her weak body. 

She was panting, tears in her burning eyes, her mouth dry, and her throat raw. She couldn’t speak, it seemed she didn’t know how. All she could focus on was Calum’s warm, bare chest against her cheek, his hands running up and down her back, and the sounds of sirens getting closer and closer. 

“Come on,” Calum helped her weak body to her feet and wrapped his arm around her waist. Her legs were wobbly and her left ankle had a deep, bleeding cut, so Calum tried to be as gentle as possible, “Let’s get you checked out, yeah?”

She sat on the edge of the ambulance, shivering, teeth chattering, and her usually pretty pink lips turning blue. The medic asked a series of questions and Joey simply shook her head yes or no, not being able to find her voice just yet, too in shock from everything that had just happened. 

“We’re going to take you to the hospital to get you checked out for a concussion and to stitch up your leg, miss. Is that okay?”

“Um, y-yeah.” Joey nodded her head, finally opening her mouth to talk, taking a deep breath from the oxygen mask that was covering her mouth and nose before removing it from her face. “That’s fine.”

“Do you have an emergency contact?” Joey shook her head no. “Is there anyone you want me to call?”

Ashton and Elise were out of town for the week for their anniversary and really, Joey couldn’t think of anyone else to call. Her mind was completely blank. It felt like it was full of sand and saltwater. “I’ll follow you there, yeah?”

Her gaze snapped up from her shaky hands to Calum, who was draping a light flannel over her half naked body, subsiding her shaking just a tiny bit. Joey almost forgot that Calum was even there, but how could she? He had just saved her life. 

“O-okay.” Joey rasped and Calum left a quick kiss on her forehead before the medics shut the doors behind them and took off to the hospital. 

Calum looked over his shoulder, seeing Colton, the guy who so carelessly knocked over and nearly killed Joey, laughing with his friends in the water, acting as if he didn’t almost just take a girl's life. Calum debated on paddling back out in the water to confront him about it, which would no doubt lead to a fight of some sort, but he figured that Joey and her wellbeing was more important, and he would leave talking to Colton for a different day. 

***

Joey hated hospitals. The last time she was in one she lost her father and she hadn’t been back to one since - a whole four years. She avoided them at all costs, but with a huge gash on her leg and a possible concussion, she knew she had to go with the medics. She would have rather driven there with Calum, but the medics told her that going with them was the best and most safe option, so she didn’t argue. She didn’t have the energy to argue.

“Hey,” Calum’a voice was quiet, knowing that Joey’s head was in pain and she still hadn’t fully recovered from the scary accident. Calum rubbed her bare thigh comfortingly, although he wasn’t sure how comforting it was, and lightly squeezed it. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Joey smiled tiredly. She was exhausted and her whole entire body felt heavy and weak, apparently almost dying takes a lot out of you. She played with the much longer sleeves of Calum’s flannel she still had on, opting to not wear the ugly hospital gown and sighed tiredly. “Thanks for saving my life.”

Calum couldn’t help but laugh as he scuffed his shoes against the linoleum floor. A small, careless shrug pulled at his shoulders. “Course.”

“Ma’am?” Joey and Calum both looked to their to see the doctor approaching them with a clipboard consisting of medical instructions to follow and her discharge papers. “You’re good to go now, but I recommend having someone stay with you for the first night just to make sure you’re okay and monitored. Is there anyone you can call to stay with you? Do you live alone?”

“I, uh, I-I live with my cousin but she’s out of town until Monday night.” Joey cleared her scratchy throat. “And I-I don’t know who else-“ 

“I can,” Calum interrupted. He figured he was going to have to drive her home anyway, and he definitely didn’t want her to be alone after what happened, and he had no other plans for his day, so he wanted to help as much as he could. “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you, Calum.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Calum chuckled incredulously. If this had happened a month ago, Calum wouldn’t hesitate to just drop her off and leave her to fend for herself, but Calum, even though he didn’t want to admit it, cared about Joey. “You almost just died, Joe, I want to help you. It’s the least I can do.”

“You just saved my life, Calum. You’ve helped enough.”

“You’re not gonna win this argument, love.” Calum smiled sweetly at her. “Sign the papers so we can get you home, yeah?” The unexpected pet name had Joey’s very pale cheeks heating up and Calum mentally shaking his head at himself. Love? Where the hell did that come from? 

Joey nodded her head and scribbled her signature on the papers before handing them back to the doctor and hopped down from the hospital bed. They offered her a wheelchair to take out to the car, but Calum waved them off and patted his back for Joey to jump onto, which she did so easily. 

The drive was silent, until Joey nervously spoke up as she applied chapstick to her now pink, no longer blue, but chapped lips. “Can we, uh, can we not tell Elise about this yet?”

“What? You don’t want to tell her?”

“Just - just not today, okay? It’s her and Ashton’s anniversary and I don’t wanna ruin it, you know? I’ll call her and tell her tomorrow.”

“Alright, yeah.” Calum nodded in agreement. “We’ll wait.”

Joey sighed in relief and smiled in Calum’s direction, the car falling silent one more until they arrived at Joey’s house. She walked in easily, not needing Calum’s help any longer, but he kept his hand on her lower back just in case. 

“I’m gonna go shower and wash the salt water, near death, and hospital off of me.” Joey said, making her way to her room to shower. She was exhausted and all she wanted to do was lay down, but Joey knew that taking a shower would make her feel somewhat better. “Make yourself at home.”

***

“Can I tell you something?” Calum spoke, interrupting the content silence that lingered between them. They had been sitting on the couch in Joey’s living room after she had taken her much needed shower, binge watching Schitt’s Creek on Netflix. Joey and Calum were on either side of the couch, Joey with her back against the arm and her feet resting on Calum’s lap across the couch. 

“Mhmm.” Joey mumbled tiredly. The medicine she had taken and all the events of the day had taken a major toll on her and her eyelids were feeling way too heavy. 

“I was so scared I was gonna lose you today.” Joey’s eyes slowly went from the TV to Calum, who avoided eye contact with her, only looking at his hands that were resting on her ankles, his fingers lightly tapping them. “I-I really thought you were gonna die on me.” Calum chuckled sadly. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t hate me enough to let me die.” Joey grinned at him lazily and he finally met her eyes. They both had small blushes on their cheeks, admitting it was hard for Calum, and it was even weirder for Joey to hear. 

“I don’t hate you.” Calum furrowed his eyebrows. 

Joey scoffed, rolling her eyes at him. “Right. I’m sure.”

“I don’t!” Calum exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. He hated that Joey thought he hated her. “I’m serious, I don’t hate you. I’m warming up to you more and more everyday.”

“You really have an ass backwards way of showing it, Calum.” Joey joked, but there was a sad smile on her face that Calum didn’t miss. 

He knew he was a dick to her when they first met, and for a while after that, and he knew that she didn’t deserve it. Hell, she had done nothing wrong, he had no reason to treat her like such shit. It was hard for him to admit it to himself, but he found himself liking her the more he was around her. 

“C’mere,” Calum patted the cushion next to him and Joey slowly crawled over to him, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them. The longer he looked at her the bigger his smile was. Before he could stop himself, he found himself, after thinking it for so long, blurting out and telling her, “You’re gorgeous.”

Licking her lips, Joey pulled them between her teeth to hide her smile. “So are you.” Joey wasn’t embarrassed to admit it. 

“Oh, yeah?” Calum’s eyes lit up.

Joey rolled her eyes and shoved his shoulder lightly, her body leaning into his closer than she intended to, but neither of them minded. “Don’t act like you don’t know you’re attractive, Calum.”

Their lips were close, so fucking close, and Calum couldn’t take it any longer. He was consumed by her. “‘M gonna kiss you now.”

Joey couldn’t help but smile. “Okay.” 

And that’s all it took for Calum to smash his lips against hers, gripping her hips and pulling her onto his lap. Without warning, Calum stood up, making an unexpected squeal leave Joey’s lips and he blindly walked them to her bedroom. His lips found her jaw and neck and Joey moaned quietly and Calum swore it was his new favorite sound, but he wanted to hear them louder. 

Their clothes were off in a split second, leaving Joey laying on her bed in just her cheeky panties and Calum in his tight boxers. He leaned up from her lips, biting down on his lower one hard at the sight of her almost completely bare for him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty.” Calum’s fingers ghosted over Joey’s skin, goosebumps covering her skin and he smirked, he already loved the way she reacted to his touch. His hands found the band of her panties, tugging them down without a second thought and threw them behind him carelessly. “Fuck,” Calum ran his fingers up and down her heat. “So wet for me.”

“Calum,” Joey whined, bucking her hips into his touch. “Do something.”

She was breathless, chest heaving and sweat already coating her skin, and Calum knew he couldn’t tease her, couldn’t deny her, so he dove right in, connecting his lips to her clit, sucking and licking, moaning against her. 

Joey’s fingers tangled in his curly hair, pulling and tugging, moaning loudly as she threw her head back into her pillows. It had been long, way too long, since she had been sexually intimate with anyone, so she was embarrassed when she was coming undone against Calum’s mouth so quickly as his fingers worked inside of her.

“Need t’feel you.” Calum mumbled against her lips as he worked on taking his boxers off. He hadn’t thought about a condom, that was honestly the last thing on his mind, and he prayed that Joey, or Elise, had them somewhere in their house. “Condom.”

Joey shook her head, their lips parting for just a second as she panted. “Birth control.”

Calum swore she was going to be the death of him.

***

“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Elise said, frustratingly running her hands down her face. She and Joey were in the kitchen, sitting at the island, discussing Joey’s accident and Joey felt like a child getting reprimanded by her mother. 

“I’m sorry, El! I just didn’t want you to- wait,” Joey narrowed her eyes at Elise, noticing the new, huge, diamond ring that adorned her ring finger. “What,” Joey took Elise’s hand in hers. “The hell is that?”

“Oh, uh,” Elise laughed nervously and took her hand back, twisting the ring around her finger, smiling at the memory of Ashton getting down on one knee just three nights prior and asking her to marry him. It didn’t feel real. “Ash - he proposed.”

“What?” Joey exclaimed happily, the smile taking over her face, completing forgetting about their small argument about Joey not telling Elise about her near death experience. Joey jumped on her cousin, giving her a bone crushing hug filled with happiness. “How could you not tell me this?!”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Elise shrugged, acting nonchalant, but inside she felt like her body was going to erupt from butterflies and happiness. It had been five years since they met and she knew they would end up getting married, but she didn’t expect it so soon. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night here and we’re inviting everyone, we wanted to tell everyone at the same time.”

“Ah! This is so exciting!” Joey was unbelievably happy for Elise and Ashton, she knew how in love they were, and she couldn’t wait for them to make their love official. 

“Thank you,” Elise giggled, squeezing Joey’s body lightly before releasing her from their long hug. “But we’re still not done talking about your accident. And about you and Calum.” Joey sighed, but knew she was not getting out of either conversation. 

***

“What’s this dinner all about?” Michael asked as everyone sat around the long outdoor table on their porch. It was the perfect night out, with it being around eighty degrees with a light breeze, it was the perfect night for a nice, friendly dinner. 

“Maybe they just wanted to do something nice,” Luke shrugged as he sipped his beer. They all were instructed to bring their bathing suits, too, if they wanted to swim after dinner, and almost everyone did, minus Michael’s girlfriend who could only stay for dinner. “We haven’t gotten together in a while. I think it’s nice.”

“Okay, guys!” Elise clapped her hands together, gaining everybody’s attention, with Ashton by her side with his arm draped around her shoulders. She had her hand hidden behind her so nobody would notice the sparkling diamond on her finger. “I know you guys are wondering why we invited you over, and we want to-”

“We’re getting married!” Ashton interrupted her, not wanting to wait any longer. He held up Elise’s hand to show off the impressive ring he had saved up for for so long purchased, and nearly everybody shot up from their seats to gush about it and admire the ring. 

“You don’t seem all that surprised,” Calum mumbled into her ear, causing involuntary goosebumps to rise on her skin. Calum wanted to give the couple their space as everybody else crowded them to give them hugs and congratulations. 

“I already knew,” Joey shrugged innocently with a small smirk on her face. She wanted to tell Calum, or anybody, she really did, since she was awful at keeping big surprises and news like that a secret, but she knew she couldn’t. Neither Elise or Ashton wanted anybody else to know. “I saw the ring when she got home.” 

“Hm,” Calum hummed, pressing his lips to her exposed shoulder, due to her spaghetti strapped dress she had on. Calum couldn’t keep his eyes off of her since he walked inside of her and Elise’s house. The white, silk dress she wore that exposed all of her legs, back, and arms, made her look incredibly sexy. “Love is just in the air tonight, huh?”

“I suppose it is.” 

Nobody really knew what was going on with Calum and Joey, they didn’t even really know what was going on with them, all they knew was that they were immensely attracted to each other, and they knew there were some feelings there, but they didn’t know the extent of it, and everybody knew better than to ask. 

Their lips met and the kiss was light and quick, but everybody saw it, and the smirk that took over Luke’s face was hard to miss. He knew that something would eventually happen between them, he could just feel it in his bones, but he didn’t want to push anything between them. Luke knew, in due time, that they would realize the attraction and the feelings they had for one another was undeniable. 

***

“So,” Luke nudged Joey’s shoulder with his own as they sat next to each other by the side of the pool. Joey didn’t want to get into the pool, so she opted for sitting with her legs dangling in them with Luke next to her, his jeans pushed up to his knees since he didn’t bring anything to swim in. “You and Cal, huh?” Joey just simply shrugged, a smile taking over his face as she sipped her Sangria that she and Elise made through her straw. Luke rolled his eyes, not happy with the lack of words from Joey. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Honestly?” Joey looked at Luke. “I’ve got no clue, Luke.” 

“He likes you,” Luke stated simply. “I can tell by the way he looks at you. He hasn’t looked at anyone like that since his first girlfriend broke his heart.”

Joey furrowed her eyebrows, not having a clue about Calum’s past relationships, or past anything, really. She was interested, of course she was, but she wasn’t going to pry and she wasn’t going to force Luke to tell her. If Calum wanted her to know, he would tell her, simple as that.

Calum swam up to them, shaking his wet hair in their direction, splashing little bits of water over Joey and Luke. His hands found her calves under the water and gave them a light squeeze. “Watcha two talkin’ about?”

“Just how sexy you look swimming,” Luke winked at him, causing Joey to giggle into her drink and shake her head at the two best friends. Calum rolled his eyes, but ignored Luke, turning his attention to Joey. 

“You gettin’ in?” Joey shook her head no, not quite in the mood to get her freshly washed hair and perfectly done makeup messed up. And she didn’t feel like walking all the way up to her bedroom to change into a bathing suit. “Hm,” Calum hummed, pressing his lips to her thigh. “Think I’m gonna change that.”

“What do you-”

Joey squealed as Calum gripped her hips and pulled her from the side of the pool, fully into the pool with him. Her dress rode up above her hips, exposing the fact that she was wearing no underwear, thankful that it was dark and the water was covering them. “Calum, what the hell!” Joey wrapped her legs around his waist.

“You’re not wearin’ any underwear, are you?” He could feel the skin on skin and felt himself hardening at the thought of Joey being completely bare under her dress. She never failed to surprise him.

“Why don’t you find out?” Joey tilted her head challengingly and Calum bit his lip, sexually and in frustration at how easily Joey turned him on. It was driving him insane. Ever since the night they had mind-blowing sex, all Calum could think about was Joey.

“Hm, I think I just might.” In a matter of seconds, Calum had them out of the pool, he still holding Joey and her legs still wrapped around Calum’s waist, thankful that her ass wasn’t exposed to all of her friends that were in her backyard. “See you guys later!” Calum shouted to his friends, ignoring the hoops and hollers they received. 

Neither Joey nor Calum cared that their friends knew exactly what they were going upstairs to do.

***

“Why couldn’t you have asked Elise to come with you?” Calum complained to Joey as the two of them looked through dresses in a higher end boutique shop in the middle of town.

They were, or Joey was, shopping for a dress for Elise and Ashton’s engagement party that was coming up in just a little over a week. It had been a month since Ashton and Elise announced their engagement and it’s been crazy ever since. 

“She’s too busy planning the party.” Joey hummed as she sifted through the dresses, not finding any she liked, and if she did like them, they didn’t have her size or were way overpriced. She was almost close to giving up. 

“How ‘bout this one?” Calum picked a random one off the rack, holding it up by the hanger to show Joey. 

It was a pink, mid thigh, flowing, backless dress with a halter top that tied behind the neck. Joey’s eyes lit up at the dress that she had failed to see and took it from Calum’s hand. It was her size, surprisingly, and it wasn’t too costly. 

“I love it.” Joey grinned at him. 

“Well, go try it on!” Calum turned her around by her shoulders and ushered her to the fitting rooms where she happily stripped down and tried to the dress on. 

She came out shortly after, holding the top to her chest, spinning around, asking Calum, “Tie me up?”

“Gladly,” Calum smirked, thinking of all the other ways he could tie her up, as he moved her hair to one side of her neck and carefully and securely tied it. Spinning around, Joey looked at Calum expectantly, who was looking at her with wide eyes and a goofy smile on his face. “Gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” Joey blushed. 

“Always,” Calum held his hand out for her to take and raised it above both of their heads. “Spin for me.” Joey did so happily, a quiet giggle leaving her lips as Calum twirled her around a few times before pulling her into his chest. “It’s a winner.” He mumbled against their connected lips. 

“You sure? Because I can always try-“

Their cute moment was interrupted by a familiar voice that Calum hoped he wouldn’t ever have to hear again. “Calum?” They pulled apart just a tiny bit, with Joey’s hands still around his neck and Calum’s around her waist. 

Stood before them was the devil herself, also known as Calum’s first and only, ex-girlfriend. His grip tightened on Joey’s hips, only slightly, but she felt it. “Ava, hey.” He was unhappy and uncomfortable, Joey could tell instantly. 

“Uh, how are you?”

Calum had to repress his scoff. “Fine. You?”

“Good, good.” She nodded her head and looked between the couple in front of her. Calum’s arm was now slung over Joey’s shoulders and her arms were awkwardly crossed against her chest. She could feel the girl judging her. “Who’s this?”

“My girlfriend - Joey.” 

Joey’s head snapped up to look at Calum in surprise. It was the first time he had ever called her his girlfriend before, so she was extremely caught off guard, but not disappointed. She had been waiting to hear those words leave his lips for weeks now. She couldn’t hide the smile on her face. “Hi,” she waved awkwardly. 

“Joe, this is Ava, my ex.”

Joey had heard only one thing about Calum’s ex-girlfriend, and that was from Luke, and she didn’t push Calum to tell her, and she didn’t mind the thought of him having an ex-girlfriend, she had ex-boyfriend’s herself. But standing in front of her, a gorgeous model looking girl, Joey was feeling just a little bit insecure. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” Joey said sweetly, even though it wasn’t nice, not in the slightest. 

“Likewise,” Ava’s smile was fake and Calum could tell, but he wasn’t going to start something pointless by mentioning it. “So, what are you two out shopping for?”

Seriously? Calum wanted to scream. She really couldn’t have just left it at that? She had to try and spark up a pointless and meaningless conversation? Calum wanted to run away the moment he saw her.

“Ash and Elise are getting married. Shopping for engagement party dresses for Joey.”

“Oh?” Ava’s eyes widened in surprise at the news of her old friends getting engaged, and soon married. “You know Elise and Ashton?” She turned her attention to Joey. 

“Elise is my cousin,” Joey nodded her head, and told her condescendingly, “So, yeah, I know them.” 

Calum bit back his laugh and smiled at Joey’s attitude, but silently applauded her for it. He knew she didn’t want to be standing there talking to his ex-girlfriend just as much as he didn’t. “Well,” Joey cleared her throat. “I’m gonna go change back into my clothes and then we can go, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Calum smiled, pressing a quick kiss to her lips as she retreated into the fitting room, leaving Calum and Ava to catch up, or whatever it was that Ava wanted from Calum. 

“She’s pretty.” Ava nodded her head in Joey’s direction. 

“She is, innit she?” Calum smiled. “And nice. And honest. A lot of things you weren’t.”

“Calum,” Ava shook her head sadly. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

He pursed his lips, clearly not believing any of the words that came out of her mouth. Ever since she broke his heart, he hadn’t believed anything. “Sure you are.”

The curtain swung open and Joey stepped out, dressed in her normal street wear, her purse hanging on her shoulder, and the hanger dangling on her finger. “Ready to go?” Joey smiled up at Calum. 

“Here,” Calum fished his credit card out of his wallet and handed it to Joey. “You go pay. I’ll catch up.”

“What? Cal, no.” Joey shook her head, not accepting the card that Calum was holding out for her. The dress wasn’t too expensive, really, just a little over fifty dollars and she could afford it. She appreciated Calum’s offer, but didn’t want to take it. “You’re not paying for this.”

Rolling his eyes, Calum easily shoved his card into the front pocket of Joey’s jean shorts, looped his fingers through her belt loops, and pecked her lips. “Don’t argue, baby. I’m payin’.” Joey rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless and made her way to the counter. Calum’s eyes followed his non-official-official girlfriend as she made her way to the cash register and smiled, but it turned into a scowl when he remembered Ava was standing in front of him, watching him watch Joey. “You have anything else to say before I walk away from you? For the last time?”

Ava shook her head sadly. “You look really happy, Calum.”

“I am.” Calum didn’t hesitate to confirm. 

“Well, I’m glad.” Ava rested a hand on his shoulder, making Calum almost flinch. Joey saw out of the corner of her eye and even though she could tell that Calum was uncomfortable, she felt uneasy, jealous. She hated it. “Give Elise and Ashton my love.”

“Yeah,” Calum exhaled a humorless laugh. As if. “I won’t be doing that.”

With that, Calum walked away from his ex-girlfriend who broke his heart, and over to his new girlfriend, who mended it back together. 

***

“So, ex-girlfriend, eh?” Joey finally brought up the dreaded conversation. She spun around in the small stool behind the front desk at Surf and Co., working the slow night shift that Ashton scheduled her with Calum keeping her company. 

“Canada, eh?” Calum smiled innocently, receiving an unamused look from Joey, who had finally stopped spinning. It had been five hours since they ran into Ava at the store and Joey was itching to say something and Calum knew it. “Right, sorry.” Calum knew they had to discuss it. “Yeah, Ava, ex-girlfriend.”

“What, uh, what happened?” Calum sighed heavily, twisting the rings on his fingers nervously, trying to figure out a way to start the story he was dreading on telling. “Luke mentioned something about her-”

“Luke told you?” Calum’s head snapped up.

“N-no! He just mentioned an ex-girlfriend that hurt you, but that’s all.” Joey assured him. She didn’t want Calum to be mad at Luke for mentioning anything to her about it, she just thought it might make things easier. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Cal.”

“No, no. I should. You deserve to know.” Calum rounded the register, leaning against the counter next to Joey, spinning her around so she was facing him now. He smiled down at her, just the sight of her pretty face making his light up. “She was new in town a few years ago and I kind of, like took her in, much like you and Luke. But, instead of becoming just friends like the two of you, we-”

“Fell in love?” Joey mumbled.

“Yeah.” Calum scoffed. “I introduced her to everyone; all my friends, Elise, everyone. And she and one of my friends, Peter, hit it off well. A little too well. But I was happy about it, you know? Thought they were just friends. Until I found them in bed together. My bed.”

“Calum-”

“Instead of growing a pair of balls and breaking up with me, she took the cowards way out and cheated on me, so I broke up with her.” Calum frowned at the memory, but it didn’t make him as sad as it once did. He was completely over it, but the memory still stung. “She broke my heart.” He laughed sadly. 

“I’m sorry, Cal.” Taking his hands in hers, Joey gave them a reassuring squeeze, and bent down to kiss them. “Is that why you didn’t like me at first?” Joey hesitantly asked. “Because I was another new girl in town?”

Calum hadn’t ever even thought that could be a reason he disliked her so much, but thinking about it now, it all made sense. He didn’t want another new girl to come into his town and his life and turn it upside again just like Ava did. But he knew, with everything in his heart, that Joey would never do anything like that to him.

***

The annoying, incessant, vibrating of Calum’s phone had Joey putting her curling iron down and crossing his room to silence it. “Cal,” Joey shouted his hearing, receiving a mumbled ‘yeah’, from his bedroom. “Your phone is blowing up.”

“Who is it?”

“Uh,” Joey furrowed her eyebrows. “Number Isn't saved, but it says, ‘it was so nice to see you last night, Calum. I’m sorry about the kiss.’” Joey’s confusion could be heard through her tone of voice as she continued to read the text. “Kiss? What the hell, Calum?”

“Shit,” Calum cursed, hopping on one foot as he tried to put his dress shoe on the other. They were getting ready for the engagement party and Calum couldn’t have picked a worse time for Joey to find out what happened the night before. “I was going to-”

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Uh,” Calum nervously scratched his growing stubble. “It’s- it’s Ava.”

Spinning around, Joey held Calum’s phone in her hands with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. She could not believe what she was hearing. And she couldn’t believe how fucking casual Calum was acting about it. “I’m sorry, what? When were you with Ava? I thought you were with the guys last night.”

“I-I was, I swear I was!” Calum approached her, resting his hands on her shoulders to give them a reassuring squeeze, but Joey wasn’t reassured, not at all. “I bumped into her at the bar and she wanted to buy me a drink as an I’m sorry sort of thing, I guess? So then I bought her one to make it even and we talked for a few minutes and-and then she kissed me.”

Inhaling a deep breath, Joey took a step back from Calum, watching as his arms fell to his sides, and licked her teeth angrily. She was going to try to keep her cool and not explode, since it was Ava who kissed Calum, and not the other way around, but still, seriously? This couldn’t have happened on a worse day.

“Were you planning on telling me this?”

“Yes! Course I was, Joey.” Calum ran a hand through his perfectly done hair that Joey worked so hard on, fucking it up in the process, and nervously licked his lips. He didn’t want her to think he was a liar. “I just wanted to wait until after the party. I didn’t want to ruin tonight for you. For us.”

“Well, you should have thought that plan through,” Joey laughed sadly, shoving Calum’s phone in his hands as she picked her small clutch up from his bedside table. “I’m gonna go. I’ll see you at the party.”

Calum let her leave without another word, knowing that fighting her or trying to make her stay would just make matters worse, and although this wasn’t how the night was supposed to start, although they were supposed to arrive to the party together, Calum knew that wasn’t going to happen. 

***

“Now, a speech from the maid of honor!” Elise spoke happily into the mic, prompting Joey to stand up on wobbly legs and smile as she took the microphone from her cousin. She looked beautiful, but she always did, Joey thought. 

Calum watched his girlfriend with a small smile on his face as Joey nervously licked her lips and cleared her throat before giving her speech that she had barely prepared beforehand. “Elise,” Joey smiled down at her cousin. “Ashton,” Joey smiled at her soon to be cousin-in-law. “I’m so happy for the two of you. I never thought that I would be here, living in the prettiest town I could ever dream of living in, with the two of you and the new friends you’ve introduced me to, but I’m so happy to be celebrating this with you guys. I’m gonna keep this short, because if I keep talking I know I’ll start crying,” Joey laughed awkwardly. “But I just want to say I’m so, incredibly, happy for you two and I hope to, one day, find love like yours.” Joey sniffled quietly. “I love you, both.”

Joey finished her speech with a cheers and everyone held their glasses up, cheering along, and gulped down their drinks. Joey sat back down in her seat that was next to Calum, and felt his hand on her thigh, and as much as she wanted to shake it off, she couldn’t find it in herself to. She was still mad at him, but he looked so handsome, she couldn’t stand it.

“Can we dance, please?” Calum’s voice was full of desperation and when Joey finally looked at him, his beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes and pouty lips, her resolve crumbled. “Please, baby?” Calum whispered.

Joey stood up abruptly, looking down at Calum expectantly. “Well? Are you coming?” 

Calum wasted no time standing up and following Joey to the makeshift dance floor that wasn’t there when they first arrived, but Michael and Crystal transformed it into one. A slow song started playing and they swayed back and forth silently, but Calum’s hands on her waist were practically burning her skin. 

“I’m sorry, Joey.” Calum mumbled. He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he wasn’t sure if he would get her one on one the rest of the night. He needed to explain how sorry he was. He knew what it felt like to be lied to and he never wanted Joey to feel that way. “I-I didn’t wanna lie to you, but I didn’t know how to tell you what happened.”

“Up front would have been nice.” 

“I know, Joey. But I just didn’t know how to-”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Joey interrupted Calum, scoffing out a humorless laugh at the person who just walked into the venue where the party was being held. There stood Ava, in all her pretty glory, looking way better than Joey did. “Your girlfriend is here.”

With that, Joey spun on her heeled shoes and stormed through the crowd to where the private bathrooms were. She gripped the sides of the sink until her knuckles turned white. The tears that pricked Joey’s eyes were unwarranted and she wanted to kick herself for letting this bother her so much.

The soft knock at the door a few minutes later had no effect on Joey. She kept her stance, kept her hands on the sink, and kept the tears falling out of her stinging eyes. “Joey?” Calum’s voice was heard through the door. “I know you’re in there.”

Joey failed to lock the door behind her, so Calum let himself in, hoping that it actually was Joey in the bathroom and not somebody else. He was relieved when he saw that it indeed was her, but his worry came back tenfold when he saw her glossy and red eyes through the bathroom mirror.

“How’s your girlfriend?” Joey stood straight and spun around to lean against the sink, crossing her arms across her chest, tilting her head to the side. She was trying to use her sarcasm and sass to cover the fact that she was upset, even though she knew she was being immature. It was her defense mechanism. 

“She’s right in front of me,” Calum took cautious steps towards her and rested his hands on her hips. He frowned down at her sad face and wanted to put a smile on it. She was too pretty to frown, Calum thought. “And she’s obviously upset with me.”

“You’re right,” Joey nodded her head in confirmation. “She is.”

“I told her to fuck off.” 

“Why the hell was she here in the first place, Calum?”

“It doesn’t matter why, Joe. She’s gone. She’s out of the picture, for good, I promise.” Calum’s hands ran up her hips to her sides, cupping her face to tilt it up so he could meet her eyes. They were less red and less glossy now, which he was thankful for. “And even if she keeps comin’ around,” Joey raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “Which she won’t. I’ve only got eyes for you. Only want you.”

“I just-” Joey shook her head sadly. “I hate feeling like I have to compete with her, Calum. She’s-she’s so pretty and you loved her and-”

“Alright, no.” Calum shut her up before she could finish. “I’m gonna stop you right there. She doesn’t even compare to you, Joe. You’re gorgeous and beautiful and she doesn’t even compare to you, okay?”

“Okay,” Joey mumbled, but Calum could hear the underlying uncertainty and the insecurity laced in her voice. 

“I’ll show you just how much.” 

A squeal left Joey’s mouth as Calum hoisted her up onto the sink, parting her legs so he could stand between them and attached his lips to hers in a heated kiss. Their hands blindly worked on each other - Joey undoing Calum’s pants and shoving them down his legs and Calum’s pushing Joey’s thin and lace panties to the side. She was already wet, which wasn’t unexpected, and Calum was already semi-hard, so there wasn’t much more to take care of before Calum was slipping his length inside of Joey. 

“Oh, fuck.” Joey moaned against Calum’s lips as he rocked in and out of her. They tried to be as quiet as they could, considering there were people not even twenty feet away from them, but it was nearly impossible with how good they were making each other feel. 

They swallowed each others moans, panting and groaning into each other’s mouths and skin and Calum worked relentlessly until he felt Joey clench around him, prompting both his and her orgasm. Their moans and breaths were in sync as they came down from their highs and caught their breaths.

“That prove to you just how much I want you?” Calum mumbled against Joey’s bare shoulder due to the halter top of her dress and she laughed, with only little humor in it. 

Pushing Calum away from her, Joey adjusted her thong and jumped down from the sink. “You’re gonna have to work a lot harder than that, Hood.” With one pat to the chest, Joey rounded him and left him lonely in the bathroom with his pants around his ankles.

Calum stood there stunned with an unbelieving chuckle leaving his mouth. Joey left him speechless, more than once, but he was going to do whatever he could, work as hard as he could to prove to her that she was the only one for him.

***

“I can’t believe you’re moving out,” Joey pouted as she helped Elise pack the last of her stuff. She knew that with Elise and Ashton being engaged now that she would be moving out, but Joey wasn’t ready to live by herself, she never had before. “I’m gonna be so lonely.”

“Please,” Elise scoffed at her cousin’s dramatics. “I’ll be less than fifteen minutes away,” Elise reminded her, but it didn’t ease her sadness. Joey had never lived alone before. She always lived with her mother or a friend or boyfriend, never by herself. “And you can always call Calum and he’ll come over in a second.”

“Yeah.” Joey mumbled, unsurely as she taped the last box shut and rested her arms on it. The thought of Calum made her feel uneasy, considering they hadn’t really seen much of each other since the engagement party. They would hang out with friends as a group, but hadn’t one on one. “I think he’s mad at me.” Joey furrowed her eyebrows.

“Why would he be mad at you? He’s the one who kissed his ex-girlfriend.”

“She kissed him,” Joey reminded Elise. “But he’s just been avoiding me I think,” Joey frowned. “Like, he hasn’t wanted to hang out just us two, you know? And he’s barely been responding to my texts. I know he’s busy with surf lessons and has been with the guys, I just-” she shook her head, confusion written all over her face. “I think ever since seeing Ava, he’s changed his mind and he doesn’t actually want to be with me.”

“You’re being paranoid. Calum is crazy about you,” Elise assured her with a light squeeze to her hand. Elise knew Calum and she knew that he felt more for Joey than he ever did for Ava. It was obvious. “Just talk to him, yeah?”

***

The emptiness and the quiet of the house made Joey a bit uneasy. Sure, she had spent the night multiple times in her house by herself, but knowing that Elise was gone and not living with her anymore made it feel different and she didn’t enjoy it. 

Joey: Can you come over?

Joey sent the text to Calum after much debate, almost asking Luke to come over and keep her company over her own boyfriend. She wasn’t sure why she was so nervous to ask Calum to come over.

Calum: Course, love. Everything okay?

Joey: Just lonely

Calum read the text and didn’t bother changing out of his sweatpants and sweatshirt, just slipping a pair of shoes on and grabbing his car keys. He could have easily walked the ten minutes, but he was feeling lazy and wanted to get to Joey as quickly as he could. He didn’t want her to feel lonely, especially since she had him.

Joey had told Calum that the front door was unlocked, so he let himself in without bothering to knock or ring the doorbell, and his heart swelled at the sight of Joey curled up on the couch, tucked under a blanket in his hoodie, looking as cute as cozy as ever. 

“Hey, Joe.” Calum’s voice was quiet, not wanting to disturb her little bubble of peace, but when she heard his voice, her tired looking face lit up and she was holding her arms out to him, making grabby hands as she continued to lay down. He laughed at how childish, but cute, she looked and collapsed on top of her lightly. 

Joey’s arms wrapped around his neck and his slid under her back to squeeze her close to him. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, why she seemed upset and off, and he wasn’t going to push her to tell him, but he was still going to ask.

“What’s wrong, baby?” 

Sighing heavily, Joey ran her fingers through Calum’s messy curls and debated on telling him. It was stupid, childish, she thought. “It’s stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound stupid,” Calum lifted his head up from where it was hiding in the crook of Joey’s neck and placed a light kiss on her lips. “If something is upsetting you, no matter how small, ‘s not stupid.”

“I just,” Joey pushed herself up on her elbows so she was leaning against the arm of her couch and Calum rested himself above her on his elbows, his chin just barely resting on her stomach as he looked up at her. “I feel like ever since you saw Ava, and since she kissed you, you-you haven’t wanted to be with me as much.”

Joey avoided all eye contact with Calum as she picked her nail polish nervously. She didn’t want to see Calum’s reaction to her embarrassing confession and really didn’t want him to see the insecurity on her face, so she missed the deep frown that was on his. He hated that she felt that way.

“Baby,” Calum mumbled sadly and took her hands in his so she would stop picking at her nails, knowing it was her nervous habit, and kissed the tops of her hands lightly. “I don’t want you thinkin’ that.” 

Sitting up completely, Calum pulled Joey onto his lap and grunted as he adjusted the two of them more comfortably. Her head was held in Calum’s hands, with him tucking her hair behind her ears and watching her watch him.

“Seeing Ava just brought back bad memories, you know? And I just - the feeling of her hurting me so badly came back full force and I didn’t - I don’t ever want to feel that way again,” Calum shook his head. “I don’t want to get my heartbroken by somebody I love again.”

“Calum, I-” Joey spoke up before she processed all of his words, stopping short, and leaning back just slightly with wide eyes. “Wait,” Joey reached up to grip Calum’s wrist. “Somebody you love?” 

“Shit, I-” Calum ran a nervous hand through his hair. “I-I didn’t mean,” Calum stumbled over his words and Joey patiently waited for him to finish. She wanted to hear what he was trying to say. “I didn’t want to tell you like that.”

Joey’s voice was barely over a whisper, but she couldn’t help the smile that covered her face. “You love me?”

Calum loved that she was smiling. He was a nervous fucking wreck, honestly. He wasn’t sure if he loved her loved her, but he knew he liked her a whole fucking lot, and he could definitely see himself loving her. “I think so, yeah.” Calum finally smiled. “How’s that make you feel?”

“Makes me feel pretty damn special.”

***

“You comin’?” Calum asked Joey as he finished waxing his board, preparing it for the water. Elise, Ashton, and Luke were all already in the water waiting for Calum and Joey to join them. 

“Um,” Joey looked out at the big waves that were forming and felt nerves prick her. She hadn’t been on a surfboard since the day she nearly died. She had been in the ocean and the pool, but was too afraid to get on a board. “I’m gonna sit this one out. I’m tired.”

Calum could sense her nervousness and frowned as he bent down again to be face to face and level with her. Everyone else was already in the water, meaning if he was to join them, Joey would be let on the sand by herself, since Michael told Ashton he would pick up a shift at Surf and Co, and Calum didn’t want to leave his girlfriend on the beach by herself.

“You sure, Joe?” Calum moved her baby hairs that didn’t fit in her bun out of her face and smiled at how pretty her eyes looked with the sun shining down. “You just tired or are you scared to get in again?”

“Calum, I-” Joey licked her lips and shook her head in embarrassment. She didn’t want to admit that she was, indeed, terrified to get back on a board after what happened. It had been nearly a month since it happened, but she could still feel an anxious pit in the bottom of her stomach at the thought of standing on a board again. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but yeah,” Joey nodded her head in confirmation. “I’m terrified.”

“Baby, no,” Calum rested himself on his knees in between her legs and ducked his head down to make eyes with her. “It’s not embarrassing. You almost died, Joe, that’s some scary shit. I would be scared if I were you, too.” Calum placed a reassuring kiss to her lips and felt her smile against his. “I’ll sit here with you so you’re not alone, yeah?”

“No, no. Go out with them.” Joey shooed him away and he grinned, kissing her one last time, before standing up and picking up his board to race into the water with the rest of the group.

Honestly, Joey didn’t mind sitting on the sand by herself. She enjoyed watching her cousin and their friends surf and do their thing, she almost preferred to sit and watch over actually surfing, since she wasn’t the best at it, and she was convinced she would be scarred for life ever since she almost died. But she was content. 

She was knocked out of her daydream when a volleyball rolled onto her towel and hit her foot lightly. She looked around, seeing a volleyball net nearly twenty feet away from her, and a guy jogging over to her. She picked it up and held it out for the guy to take, not bothering to stand up.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he panted and crouched down, bending his knees to retrieve the ball from Joey’s hands. She just smiled and simply shook her head, not bothering with a conversation with the guy. “You new around here? I don’t recognize you.”

“Uh, yeah, kind of.” Joey furrowed her eyebrows. “I’ve lived here for a few months.” 

“I’m surprised I haven’t noticed you before,” he looked her up and down, even though she was sitting down and leaning against a cooler, and shamelessly checked her out, not even trying to be discrete. “A gorgeous girl like you shouldn’t go unnoticed by anyone.”

Joey rolled her lips into her mouth, trying to suppress her laugh at the shitty attempt as a pick-up line. “Well, thank you.”

“Anytime,” he winked at her and she nearly groaned out loud. She saw the guys and Elise approaching them from the water and hoped that Calum, or any of them, would nicely tell him to get lost. “I never got your name.”

“That’s because she didn’t give it to you, Colton.” Calum grunted as he shoved his board into the sand next to the guy, Colton, that was shamelessly hitting on Joey. He stood up to his full height, still a few inches shorter than Calum, and dropped the volleyball on the sand next to his feet. “What are you doing bothering her?”

“I’m just having a conversation with her, Hood.” Colton shrugged and smirked at him cockily. Colton looked down at Joey, who was only paying attention to Calum and how angry, but sexy, he looked. “Seemed like she was enjoying it.”

“Seems like she wasn’t,” Calum took another step closer. “So, leave my girlfriend alone and fuck off.” Another step. Joey could tell that the guys behind him would pounce and back him up if a fight ensued. “And while you’re at it, apologize to her for almost killing her.”

Colton scoffed. “Fuck are you talking about?”

“The girl you knocked off her board last month when you were being a cocky asshole and surfed up on her wave?” Calum tilted his head to the side, watching it click in Colton’s brain that Joey was the girl he nearly killed. “Yeah, that girl? My girlfriend. So I suggest you apologize or walk the fuck away, Colton.”

Colton bent down and picked the volleyball up, not bothering to look at Joey or apologize to her before he stalked away, leaving Calum staring at him with his hands clenched into fists. Joey knew the only way he would calm down is if she told him to. 

Standing up, Joey pulled her bikini bottom out of her butt to rid herself of her wedgie from sitting down for so long, and stood in front of Calum, running her hands up his stomach to rest on his shoulders, and his eyes instantly went from Colton down to Joey.

“You good, Cal?” Calum looked back up to see Colton standing there staring at the couple, and Calum smirked, gripping the back of her thighs to lift her up and wrap her legs around his waist. “Cal!” Joey squealed at the sudden movement and laughed against his mouth as he pressed their lips together.

“I’m fuckin’ great, sugar.” Calum grinned against her lips and spun her around, the loud giggle leaving her lips made his grin widen. 

How Joey could turn Calum’s mood from complete and absolute shit and anger from seeming like the happiest person in the world was beyond him. It was crazy, really, but he welcomed it with open arms, and with her in his.

***

“What’s got you so happy?” Luke nudged Calum’s shoulder with his own, holding his near empty beer by the neck as they sat in the semi-crowded bar. The group hadn’t been out to a bar in a while, since before Ashton and Elise announced their engagement, so they were enjoying their night out. “You’re grinnin’ like a damn fool.”

“How could I not be happy when I have a girlfriend that looks like her?” Calum pointed his beer bottle in the direction where Joey and Elise were playing a game of pool, not taking it seriously at all, and laughing and messing around with each other. “Don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“I can tell,” Luke nodded his head with a smile. He was extremely happy for his best friend and as he watched Calum watch Joey lose against Elise in pool, he couldn’t help but shake his head in disbelief, never having seen Calum so happy around somebody before. “You got lucky.”

“Luckiest guy in here,” Calum clinked his bottle against Luke’s and made eyes with Joey, who grinned widely and waved him over across the bar. Forgetting all about his half empty beer and Luke, Calum got up and crossed the bar, wrapping his arms around Joey’s waist from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “You wanna get outta here?”

“I thought you would never ask,” Joey sighed dramatically, hanging her pool stick up, and the two of them left without bothering saying goodbye to their friends. They walked hand in hand down the street, Calum twirling his tipsy girlfriend as they walked and grinning at her infectious smile. “Let’s go swimming!” Joey skipped backwards down the sand with her heels in her hand and her arms out as she spun around and ran towards the water.

“It’s dark out, baby.” Calum laughed, but toed his shoes off and shed his shirt and pants, watching as Joey did the same thing. “Gonna be weird creatures in there.”

“You scared, Hood?” Joey challenged, reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, leaving her completely naked in front of Calum underneath the moonlight. Calum’s mouth watered at the sight of her and watched her teeth clamp down on her lower lip as he, too, was now naked in front of her. 

They swam around, splashing each other and giggling against each others lips, and Calum finally pulled her body into his, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and her arms around his neck. “I think I just realized something,” Joey hummed against his shoulder.

“What’s that?” Calum squeezed her hips.

There was no nervousness or hesitance in her voice while she spoke, her words were confident and full of sureness when she told Calum, “I love you.” She spoke as if it was the most casual thing, but instead her heart was pounding and she was scared, only for a minute, that Calum wasn’t going to say it back.

“I love you a whole fuckin’ lot, Joey.”

Their smiles were so big, so genuine, that their faces hurt and they knew, right there in that moment, that they couldn’t be any happier even if they tried. 

Just as they looked up at the night sky, a shooting star flew by and they didn’t have to wish for anything because they both had what they wanted - each other.

***

Taglist: @singt0mecalum @lockthisheartinchains @babyurart @cheyenne-in-wonderland @youmaycallmemrshemmings @cantbehandled-ever​ @gosh-im-short​ @cakesunflower​ @novacanecalum​ @cosmocalum​ @emma070900​ @asht0ns-world​ @blahehblah​ @inlovehoodx​ @softboycal​ @ashtoniwir​

[darlinglissa]

here’s my fic for this year’s @batfam-big-bang​!! on god it’s been a ride with this, but i am so so so grateful that the bang went so well. i’ve met such amazing and talented people that have made my little world so much brighter.

(credit for the title edit to cai!!)

you’re under fire (i’ll cover you)

When Tim is injured on patrol, he's ordered to bedrest. Instead he finds himself running straight to the doorstep of a man who tried to kill him--the Red Hood.

or: how tim drake finds common ground with jason todd--the ground of a warehouse, that is--and bonds over it.

word count: 5,993

here’s a link to my fic on ao3!

and here’s a link to my fic here on tumblr!

a million and one thanks to my stellar team:

artists:

auri - @battoad​ - her art is always so amazing, i’m always left in awe so i can’t wait for y’all to see her piece for my fic

cai - @bisexualoftheblade​ - they have such an eye for aesthetics, as you can see from the title edit, and their moodboard is no different. it fits so well

reese - @reese-haleth​ - reese is so talented, and i can’t wait to see the pieces she’s put together for my fic because i just know it’ll be astounding

betas:

cess - @wiitts​ - god, cess, thank you so much for putting up with my wordy ass and fixing up my (not very) long sentences and helping my flow, i don’t think it’d be as nice as it is now without you

ren - @dont-taunt-the-octopus​ - oh my father i swear that even though you don’t go here, your comments were always so helpful and uplifting that they helped me push through every bit of block i had, so thank you so much

september - @schweeeppess​ - sep!!!! you’ve been so constructive and respectful throughout every part of my fic and i couldn’t be more thankful for the critique and positive comments you made, i appreciate you, babe

i really couldn’t have made it this far without all y’all, so thank you for everything you guys did throughout these past few months

special shoutout to my mod team, my second family, jay @wisdom-walks-alone​, shelby @shelbychild​, and lucy @lostinmyfictionaluniverses​. y’all are my dream team, and i’m so happy that i had the chance to run this event with you. all the love!!