#'oh sorry I'm gonna blow off the plans with you so i can go do literally the exaxt same thing but with someone else'

[boowritess]

part 1 hehe

notsobaddasssoldier!reader that is so incredibly under prepared for everything. and the 141 really do forget that you're actually still very green - very new to this life.

especially with things like interrogation.

for once, price is putting you on the sideline BUT you have to interogate the person they have captive for valuable information.

they'll give you whatever things you need in order to pry out any sort of information from the captive. they don't even second guess you asking for a guitar. they get one then they continue on with the mission while you interrogate the person.

their expectation may have been very high. they were betting on all the little fun bloody pain you could potentially do to the captive. seriously,

"knife, they're a knife person" *ghost*

"definitely not. fire. they're definitely using a blowtorch on em as we speak." *soap*

"sod of the both of ya - waterboarding. for sure." *gaz*

"choking." *price shrugs*

obviously, they were excited to come back and see who was right...

it really humbled them to see they were all wrong.

"please make them stop. i'll tell you whatever you want"

*captive yelling that can be barely heard over reader.*

"AHHHHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH AHHHHHHH *strum strum* AHHHHHH-"

*reader who is loudly strumming the guitar out of tune, screaming in the captives' face over and over again.*

the guys don't know if they should be impressed or concerned. they were gone for nearly 5 hours.

5 hours you had been screaming in the captives' face 'playing' the guitar.

later on you get a lesson from ghost about what interrogations are supposed to be like - it ends with you vomiting and price patting your back and gaz holding a bucket to your mouth.

"what did you think was gonna happen when ghost showed ye what to do?" *soap*

"i don't know... go boo?" *scarred reader*

yeah... you're not allowed to do interrogations anymore or be involved in interrogations- you are also most definitely not allowed to talk to captives or guard them because -

"why're you doing this?" *captive*

"honest to god, i ain't got much goin' for me and i had hella stu-"

*reader's mouth suddenly gets covered, gaz looking at you like an idiot*

"hm? what is your little task force plan, huh? go on and blow the place?" *captive*

"well actually no. they plan too-" *your mouth gets covered just in time and you're getting dragged out the room by a very frustrated price*

you very much get ANOTHER lesson about what NOT TO DO when in the same room as a captive - it's pointless though because you're still not ever allowed in the same room alone with a captive.

HAHAHA

i can't stop thinking of reader who is watching a captive be interrogated for information by getting choked and reader just piping up like

"i don't think they can breathe..."

*ghost, long exhale, continues choking captive*

"that's the point, kid" *price*

"oh..."

*they continue choking the captive, waiting for them to crack-*

"if they can't breathe how are they going to talk-?"

"out." *ghost snaps pointing at the door.*

maybe they do give you a second shot at attempting to interrogate the captive. the 'correct' way this time, though. giving you ALL the necessary tools...

and you are ready, you're pumped. you can do it. you're not going to vomit - you're going to do it right.

you grab the pliers and walk towards the captive who is obviously panicked, very much expecting you to do your worse. which you are.

you grab their mouth and force their mouth open, ready to pull their teeth out - sucking a deep breath in as the captive starts to cry and beg.

but then you start to cry and beg.

"please just tell me the information i don't wanna do this"

"you don't have too!" *captive, crying and begging too*

"i do! i'm sorry..."

"no." *captive*

"yes."

"no" *captive starts screaming, making you start screaming as you pull on their tooth both of you staring at eachother and screaming your heads off.*

"I'M SORRY!"

"STOP!" *captive*

"I CAN'T!" *pulls tooth with pliers* "EW EW EW EW-"

you don't even do it right. you're pulling at their tooth with pliers and you're not strong enough so you're awkwardly just tugging the captives head. but the both of you are too busy screaming and begging to notice...

but you actually manage to successfully get the information - you're still not allowed to do interrogations... only being the very last option.

it does mean that you have to go on missions... even if you're useless omg idea?

*gasp* someone claims reader is a traitor - oop?

more parts, perhaps?

a/n: wrote this while trying to work through an anxiety/panic attack !! xx honestly tho these would be my genuine reaction. btw drink water and try sleep cause i can't xx

[chiumii]

bathroom ~ heeseung x reader

ଓ ⋆˙⊹ [ 희승 ] ☆ an argument sparked between you and your lover before a party. in anger, you told him you weren't going to be going anymore. an hour into the party, you show up looking unbelievable, making Heeseung go absolutely insane.

word count; 4k

dom Heeseung x sub reader. established relationship, jealousy, public sex, mentions of alcohol and weed, degrading, gagging, praise, oral, smacking. not proof read.

"what the fuck Heeseung?" you angrily curse at your boyfriend, feeling rage boil through your veins. he rolls his eyes at you, watching your figure pace across the room as he sits down on the couch, listening to your rambles.

"I asked you to help me clean the apartment while I was gone doing errands. you didn't even get up off your game once." you glare at him. this passed week, school was stressing you the fuck out. exam after exam was piling up on your plate on top of an essay you were supposed to be writing. it also didn't help that you had to go grocery shopping sometime during the week and help your best friend plan a get together for her birthday party. everything was stressing you out and all you wanted was a little help from your boyfriend. you had asked him to clean the small apartment the two of you shared before you went out for the day at 11 am. you had arrived back to the house with groceries and birthday gifts at 5 pm, expecting the house to be at least a little picked up.

"I was gone for six hours, Heeseung, and you couldnt even put the dishes away?" you scoff at him, seeing guilt and anger arise in his body language as he shifts on the couch, eyeballing you from across the room.

"y/n, im sorry, okay? I was doing homework and other shit that it completely spaced my mind, I'll clean it tomorrow" he says to you, making your jaw clench as you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest with a sigh.

"I wanted it done today so that we wouldn't have to do anything tomorrow, especially since were supposed to be going to Jay's party tonight." you take his silence as a queue to continue, staring into his eyes.

"im piled up to my neck with bullshit, all I wanted was your help and I can't even get that from you." you roll your eyes at him, beginning to walk into the kitchen. his eyes follow you, instantly standing up and following your figure.

"what are you doing? we're leaving soon?" he asks as you begin to put the dishes away, not even turning to face him.

"i'm not going to the stupid fucking party Heeseung, i'm cleaning the apartment since somebody can't" you snap at your boyfriend, turning around to put away a couple pots, completely ignoring his tall figure as he stands in the middle of the kitchen looking at you.

"so you're just gonna stay home and mope around because I didn't clean?" you turn around, glaring daggers at him at his words, your growing anger turning into rage.

"its not even that messy, y/n. I dont understand why you're so mad, lets just go-"

"if you can't understand why i'm upset, then you really need to check yourself, Heeseung. if its 'not that messy' then why didn't you clean it when I asked you to?"

"oh my god can you please stop nagging at me, I already told you its because I was doing homework so I just spaced it" you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you blow up at him.

"you can leave. i'll see you when you get home." is all you say before walking out of the kitchen and into your shared bedroom, leaving the conversation before one of you says something you might regret. Heeseung stares at the bedroom door, but decides to slip his shoes on. he knows that when the two of you get into arguments, that you often need space to cool down and to get distance away from each other so that you dont say anything you really don't mean.

Heeseung slips through the front door, locking it behind him as he heads to jays house, promising himself that he would stay sober.

you hear the front door close and you start to look around the room, your eyes landing on the clock by your bedside table. it read 5:45 pm, the party starts in fifteen minutes and you wonder to yourself how long Heeseung would be gone for.

you sigh out into nothingness, having an internal war with yourself before looking into the closet, your eyes landing on a deep purple dress. its short and made out of lace and satin. suddenly, an idea pops up in your mind and before you can think; you grab the dress and walk into the bathroom.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Heeseung, where is y/n?" sunghoon asks him, looking around the buzzing living room in search of your familiar figure. Heeseung takes another glance at his phone for the fifth time in three minutes, looking to see if you've texted him. sunghoon takes a seat next him, a red cup in his hands.

"she wasn't feeling good so she stayed home" Heeseung answers shortly, guilt starting to eat away at him from the argument that took place earlier.

"shit, that sucks, I hope she feels better" sunghoon says, taking a sip of his drink.

you walk into the house, music vibrating the floor as sweaty bodies stick to each other, the smell of alcohol and weed clouds your senses as you walk further into the house, making you way into the kitchen. you see one of your best girl friends, walking up to her. her eyes catch yours as she squeals, running up to you and attacking you in a hug. she smells like alcohol, and her sluggish actions give away the fact that she's drunk.

"hey beautiful, I didn't think that you were here" she says, slurring her words.

"I saw Heeseung earlier but you weren't with him so I just thought you weren't gonna show up" she rambles and you giggle. the mention of your boyfriends name makes you smile a little despite the argument you had before. you look around the kitchen and notice all the different varieties of alcohol organized on the counter. you walk over and look at all the different kinds.

you grab a red cup, walking back over to the alcohol and grabbing raspberry vodka and pouring it in your cup along. your best friend looks at you, questioning looks seep out of her eyes. she knows you hardly ever drink, so something must have happened. you smile at her reassuringly before throwing your head back, the alcohol burning your throat in the best way possible as your face scrunches up.

she walks over to you, pouring herself another shot as she giggles.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

your best friend and you are walking around as she checks out a few guys, talking to a few people she knows with you attached to her hip. she's a social butterfly, her wings flapping and her entanas buzzing whenever she's in a social setting such as this one. she's formed a small circle around herself, talking everybody's ear off.

you're standing next to her in silence, feeling someones eyes burning into you. you lift your eyes away from her talking mouth, finding one of heeseungs friends; Jake you think, staring at you. as a friendly gesture; you smile at him.

Jake returns your smile and makes his way up to you, deciding to perch himself next to you as he begins speaking.

"where's you boyfriend" he asks, you bite your lower lip, the feeling of anger and giddiness spreading through your body at the mention of him.

"don't know, don't care." is what you settle on, looking up at Jake as the group that your best friend formed begins to fade away, your back sinking into the wall as your conversation with Jake begins to flow.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"dude, Heeseung, I saw y/n just now" sunghoon says, sitting back on the couch next to him. heeseungs eyes snap onto sunghoon, not believing his words.

"what? that's impossible" Heeseung denies, checking his phone to see if you texted him: nothing. his jaw clicks as his eyes scan the area, not finding your figure anywhere.

"she was talking with Jake somewhere near the kitchen. her face was really red and Jake was standing super close to her" sunghoon warns, unknowingly fueling the fire in the pit of heeseungs stomach. Heeseung stands up off the couch, disappearing into the messy pile of bodies in search of one in particular.

"What?" you say to Jake, squinting your eyes, not quite hearing him over the loudness of the music blaring through the speakers.

"I said let's go outside" Jake leans down to your ear, his hair brushing against your cheek as he speaks. you turn your head to the side with a nod, walking in the direction of the sliding glass doors that lead outside by the pool.

Heeseung catches a glimpse of your hair and figure, but looses you just as quick as you came. his eyes dart around, looking for that familiar scent of the perfume you wear and your hair color. no matter how hard he tries, he just can't find you.

"I mean he is hardheaded sometimes, but I'll stick behind him no matter what" Jake tells you, taking another sip of whatever he has in his cup. you nod your head, finishing your drink as your nose scrunches up. the two of you are talking about Heeseung, and how hardheaded he can be sometimes, but you love him regardless. you wanted to show up to the party and surprise him, but a part of you is also hard headed, so you're not going out of your way to find him, when the timing is right, you'll find each other.

You catch Jake staring at you, his eyes slightly red. you look back, questioning him.

"what?" you ask, as he leans on the wall next to you, eyeballing you up and down. you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

"with all due respect for Heeseung, you are absolutely gorgeous, y/n" you knew Jake well enough that he wouldn't make any moves on you while in a relationship with his best friend, his brother, but that still didn't stop him from speaking the truth.

"Heeseung is one lucky man" speak of the devil, the man himself grips your wrist, flipping you around and clenching his jaw.

"h-hee!" you say in surprise. his grip on your wrist is tight and it has you looking down at your hand.

"I am one lucky man. lets go y/n" your boyfriend says to you, dragging you back in the hot house. your eyes don't leave the back of his head as he pulls you through the sea of bodies. your eyes catch glimpse of the front door, but before you are able to reach it, Heeseung pulls you down a hallway.

"what the hell Heeseung!" you say, but he doesn't respond or turn around. he opens a door and throws you inside. its a white bathroom with a big sink, a huge mirror complimenting the wall above it. Heeseung comes inside the room and locks the door behind him, spinning around to face you. your cheeks heat up at the expression on his face. his lips are tugged between his teeth as his eyes rack down your figure.

Heeseung's mind is going a million miles a minute. the god awful tiny dress you're wearing is driving him up the wall. it barely covers an inch of your body and it infuriates him that Jake saw just about every part of you that belonged to him.

"you shouldn't have came, y/n." he says under his breath as he stalks towards you, his hands coming down to unclip his belt. you shudder at the sound, arousal already pooling in your panties.

"why is that?" you question, already knowing the answer.

"come on sweetheart, you can't be that stupid, hm?" he throws his belt on the floor behind you. jealousy pricks at the tip of his tongue, your eyes looking directly into his.

"you didn't tell me you were showing up, but when I find out you do, you're standing two fucking inches away from my best friend as he basically confesses he wants to fuck you" his hand caresses your cheek as you look up at him through your eyelashes. his fingers move to entangle in your hair, feeling your silky locks as you shake your head.

"hee.. that's not-" his hands pull your hair back, your head arching as he pulls you into his body. he looks down at you, venom laced in his tone as he speaks.

"you think Jake can fuck you as good as be, huh? did he get your pussy wet as much as I do?" his other hand comes up and below your purple dress, moaning as heeseungs fingers come in contact with the flimsy fabric of your panties. he chuckles as he lowers his head so his breath fans your lips, his brushing over yours as he continues

"you're fucking filthy." he forces you down onto your knees, and the way your thighs clamp together tells him everything he needs to know. his hands pull down his pants, the tent in his boxers prominent and aching.

you look up, your mouth watering and your eyes begging. your hands find the waistband of his boxers and you breath out heavily, your head feeling light as Heeseung grips your chin inbetween his fingers.

"suck it." his command is cold and you obey; pulling down his boxers as his cock springs free, half hard and already fucking huge. you gulp, no matter how many times you suck his cock, you're never prepared for how badly your throat stings afterwards. you spit into your palm before taking his tip into your hand, your fingers playing with his slit before pumping him slightly. you feel him begin to grow in your palm as you kitten lick his tip, your hand coming down to massage his balls.

you hear your boyfriend his above you, you take this opportunity and take his head into your mouth, your warm tongue swirling around his tip as you hallow your cheeks, beginning to suck him off. your boyfriend moves his hand to the back of your head, his fingers entangling in your hair as he groans, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows.

you begin bobbing your head up and down his length faster, saliva spilling down your cheeks as you whine around his size, looking up at him through watery eyes as your feel your knees begin to sting.

he looks down into your glossy eyes, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"taking me so well, wanna take my cum, sweet angel?" you nod your head moaning out a choked yes please as he chuckles at your desperation. the hand on the back of your head pushes you down his shaft, forcing you to deep throat him. his swollen tip hits the back of your throat as he begins to thrust his hips in your face, but not too fast. you breathe in through your nose, trying your best to keep your cheeks sucked in and hallow as he begins to fuck your face. your hands come up to grip his thighs, keeping yourself stable.

his cock twitches in your mouth and you swallow around him, throwing Heeseung off the edge as his hips still in your face, his cock pressing up against the back of your throat as he shoots warm, sticky white ropes of cum down your throat. your eyes close as more tears fall freely down your pink cheeks.

Heeseung looks down at you as he pulls his cock out of your mouth. you swallow all his salty seed, a couple pearly drops fall down your chin and out of the corners of your mouth. your fucked out expression has him grabbing under your arms and forcing you to your feet. you wrap your arms around his neck as he lifts you onto the counter of the sink, your hands entangle in his hair as he pushes his body into your core.

"h-hee.. please. need- need you please" your begs are just above a whisper, his hands trailing up your thighs to the hem of your underwear. his face comes down to your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin as your heat grinds down on his still-hard dick, whimpering at the small amount of friction he's gifting you.

"you want it baby, yeah?" he teases, one of his hands coming to feel your damp panties. he hisses at your arousal, your folds unbelievably wet as he traces a finger up and down your clothed slit. Heeseung grabs your underwear, pulling it back and then releasing it as it smacks against your pussy. you jump in his hold, more whines spilling from your lips as he chuckles into your skin.

his fingers pull your panties to the side, his thumb pressing up against your clit as you moan at the feeling, finally getting the friction you so desperately craved. his fingers massage through your wet folds, collecting your slick before one of his long fingers prods at your fluttering hole, begging for your boyfriend to touch you.

"please" you plea, your face coming to bury itself in heeseungs next, your breath fanning your skin. his finger slides in with ease, stretching you slightly as your warm walls squeeze his digit. you shudder at the feeling, a small whimper leaving your mouth as your fingers dig into your lovers back. Heeseung kisses your temple before beginning to pump you, his long finger curling in and out of your sopping cunt in a squelching noise.

one of your hands moves to grip is hair as the other stays wrapped around his back. heeseungs free hand moves from your thigh, trailing upwards to the small of your back, caressing and rubbing you through your thin dress, holding you as close to his body as possible. your moans pick up volume as he adds a second finger, curling upwards and slightly grazing your sweet spot. your legs jolt and you inhale sharply. your mind feels fuzzy as Heeseung splits you apart on his fingers, his thumb rubbing slow, concentrated circles on your clit to help ease you up.

"h-hee.. hmm a-ah" you moan his name, your body beginning to shake. he brings his head down to your ear, his breath fanning you as he speaks

"tell me all about it beautiful" you whine in response, your fingers tugging at his locks harshly now, your orgasm approaching quickly. your hold around him tightens as your legs begin to shake. Heeseung looks at himself through the mirror, his eyes finding the back of your figure and he can't help but admire you, even without seeing your face. you turn your head, Heeseung mimicking your actions as you slam into each other, your lips meeting his in a sloppy, wet kiss.

heeseungs fingers curl inside you again, massaging your g-spot and you buck your hips forward, moans loud and needy as your orgasm snaps, cumming all over heeseungs fingers. you grind your hips into his hand, riding out your high. heeseungs mouth moves against yours hungrily, biting your bottom lip before he parts. you go to whine in protest but stop yourself when he quickly forces your panties down and below your ankles.

before you can say anything, he balls up your underwear and shoves them in your mouth. he hikes your dress up and over your hips, your dripping pussy on full desplay as he takes his cock in his hand and bullies his way inside your walls. your eyes widen as he does so, a choked moan attempting to escape your mouth. he can't wait anymore, remembering the way Jake was looking at you in your tiny little dress, your breasts on full display. his anger begins to rise again, his hips beginning to move against yours at a quick pace

"gonna fuck this pussy until you know who you belong to, understood?" he slaps your puffy cunt, earning a muffled squeal from you as your arms wrap around him again, holding his body close to yours. you curl into your boyfriend, your pussy fluttering around his cock as it kisses your g-spot repeatedly, tiny babbles and whines leaving your lips.

his fingers work at your clit as his hips snap against yours, your legs shaking in his hold as goosebumps trail from your thigh, up to your hip where Heeseung ghosts his fingertips, holding you in place.

your muffled cries eg him on further, an idea striking in his mind. he pulls out of you, dragging you off the sink and spinning you around, forcing you to bend over the counter.

"spread you legs for me, pretty" you happily listen, your soiled panties still gagging you. he pushes himself into your wet, swollen pussy, your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he begins to thrust into you from behind, hitting all your right places at a much deeper angle. your ass jiggles each time his hips meet your behind, your back arched in a perfect slope.

Heeseung slaps your ass, roughly, causing a squeal to erupt from the back of your throat, your walls clenching his dick as if you're trying to milk him.

"oh fuck-" your boyfriend says in a raspy tone. the way your ass bounces with each of his thrusts mixed with the way your muffled whimpers and moans sound, it starts driving Heeseung up the wall as he smacks the plush of your ass again. your head dips down, falling onto your forearms that rest on the counter.

Heeseung grips your hair, forcing your body up into an arch as your eyes fly open, looking at the scene unfolding in the mirror. Heeseung moves his face to your neck, sucking sweet purple marks into your skin that match the color of your dress.

"look at you baby, taking my cock so well, such a good girl hmm?" he slaps your ass again, your eyes closing slightly as you hiss. your look at yourself through half lidded, fucked out eyes. your legs are apart and your dress his hiked up, heeseungs dick splitting you open as he fucks you from behind, deep, purple hickeys litter your soft skin and one of your breasts fell out of your dress.

"pussy's mine... all. fucking. mine." he thrusts inbetween each word, your juices gushing out of your spazzaming hole and down your thighs onto the counter.

"he-hee please !" your panties fall out of your mouth, your loud moans echoing off the chambers of the bathroom and fill heeseungs ears.

"such a messy girl.. you think you deserve to be stuffed full of my cum, sweetheart? wanna take all of it like the fucking slut you are?" his hand detangles from your hair to grip your throat, giving it a light squeeze as a threat... or a promise? either one has your knees buckling below you.

"y-yes please, wan' u're cum please" you chant, the pit of your abdomen feeling unbelievably tight as you feel your orgasm about to wash over you.

"cum all over me sweetheart, make a fucking mess all over me, I've got you" he coaxes you to your orgasm, the rope in your stomach snapping as you arch your back into him, a loud squeal drips of your tongue as you cum all over him. heeseungs thrusts halt, his hips stilling against your ass as he buries his face in your neck, shooting white ropes of cum deep inside you.

it takes a minute for the both of you to calm down, your boyfriend pulling his cock out of you. your guys's mixed cum drips down your leg, running down your thighs. Heeseung laughs before grabbing some toilet paper, turning you around and hoisting you onto the counter to clean you off.

you wrap your arms around his frame, hugging him as you kiss every inch of his face

"I love you, hee" you say as he pulls away from you, throwing the cum-stained toilet paper in the trash. he looks at you, placing his veiny hands on your thighs, rubbing soft shapes into your skin.

"I love you, beautiful" he responds, cupping your face in his palm before leaning in to place a warm kiss on your lips. he helps you hop off the counter, unlocking the door.

"hey wait, my panties!" you laugh at him as he stuffs them in his pocket, smirking down at you. he opens the door and gestures for you to exit first. you huff at him and walk out, praying nobody sees anything. you gasp as Heeseung lands a smack to your ass as you walk in front of him out of the room.

"hee!" you smile as you look behind you and at your boyfriend.

"I love youuu"

[tpwk-formula1]

Can I order

Ollie Bearman- Thin crust,red sauce,roasted mushrooms,bacon,pineapple with sprite,truly and Diet Coke with no dessert please��

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

thin crust brother's best friend red sauce rough sex roasted mushroom “Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy” bacon "What would your brother think if he caught us" pineapple "Look so pretty wrapped around my cock" sprite size kink truly belly bulge diet coke recording kink dessert no served by Ollie Bearman

Ollie x Antonelli! reader

TW - squirting, pussy eating, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, filming the act, belly bulge, size kink

WC 1900+

Y/N POV

"Kimi, can I talk to you?" I ask after finally finding my twin brother hiding in the Mercedes garage getting away from all the media.

"What's up?" Kimi asks putting his phone down and giving me his full attention.

"So, you're probably gonna be mad but you cannot make a fucking scene," I tell Kimi making him sit up taller and stare at me with an unreadable face.

"Go on, I make zero promises," Kimi says making my pulse rise a bit.

"So, Ollie and I are dating," I say while giving Kimi a sarcastic smile knowing he wasn't happy the second the words left my mouth.

"Oh, I'm gonna fucking kill that giraffe," Kimi said while standing up and shoving past me.

"Kimi, we are in the fucking paddock keep it professional," I say while pulling his arm back slightly but he was on a mission that left me scrambling to follow him.

"Kimi, stop," I say again pulling him back a bit harder. This time Kimi stopped and looked at me with pure anger flashing in his eyes.

"Are you fucking serious right now? You planned this shit to tell me here in public so I couldn't blow up on either of you, but news flash, I dont care," Kimi said turning on his foot and marching towards the Ferrari garage.

We didn't even make it to the garage when we see Ollie pop out smiling and talking to one of the engineers when he spots both of the Antonelli twins approaching him. One radiating anger and the other radiating stress while still giving off a fake smile.

Ollie picked up on the signs and instantly popped back into the garage trying to get away before the much shorter boy reached him.

"No, Oliver Bearman get out here, I just want to talk," Kimi says. I'm shocked to find Ollie actually turning on his foot and coming back outside to stand in the middle of the pit area.

"How can I help you?" Ollie asks trying to mask his fear.

"Oh cut the shit, you and my fucking sister?" Kimi asks trying to keep his volume down but failing with how angry he is.

"Okay, before a full-out brawl occurs I think you guys need to take this into the garage," Fred says coming out of nowhere but quickly ushering the three of us into the Ferrari garage and into an unoccupied room before leaving the three of us to hash out our difference.

"Look Kimi, it's new, and I care a lot about your sister, I'm not in the business of hurting her," Ollie tells Kimi seriously. I can see a very perplexed look flash in Kimi's eyes before I watch his body physically relax.

"How long?" Is all Kimi asks sharply.

"Little over a month, it's new and we wanted to make sure it was gonna be more long term before telling anyone. You're the first person we are telling and I'm sorry if I did it in public I just knew you would flip shit... and I was right," I reply back softly. I can feel Ollie's hand brushing my back showing me that he is still there supporting me but keeping it respectful in front of my brother.

"Please, don't hurt her. I will run your ass off the track every single race if you do," Kimi finally speaks up making me smile and softly pull him in for a hug.

"It's gonna take time to get used to this shit, but I'm not gonna make you guys split or anything, but don't do weird shit in front of me," Kimi tells us making both Ollie and I smile.

"Deal, and thank you," I tell him softly.

We all leave the room and Kimi and I go back to the Mercedes garage where we spend the rest of the day talking and figuring out our plans for our upcoming vacation as well as sitting through boring Mercedes meetings.

"Hey, I'm gonna go see Ollie for a little bit and I should be back before dinner," I tell Kimi when we get back into our hotel happy to not have to be lying to him anymore.

Kimi just pulls a fake disgusted look before shooing me away.

When I get into Ollie's room I knock softly before I step in and pull him into my arms.

"Well that was interesting," I whisper making Ollie laugh and nod.

"He called you a giraffe," I tell Ollie making me laugh before looking down.

"He might be onto something," I joke when I realize how much I am having to strain my neck to look up at Ollie.

"I think you Antonelli's just don't know how to grow," Ollie said with a joking smirk written across his face.

"Oh shut up," I say not having anything to rebuttal him with.

I walk over to Ollie's bed noticing the the scattered clothes all around. Before climbing into his bed and making myself comfortable Ollie climbs onto the bed and into my space where he starts placing soft kisses across my jaw trailing to my lips where he pulls me in for a heated makeout session.

"I need you," Ollie whispers against my lips making me smirk slightly but agree anyway and pull Ollie in closer to keep the heated session going.

I can feel Ollie pulling off my tank top making me lift my arms and pull back to allow him to pull it off all the way and I make quick work of taking his shirt off leaving both of us bare from the top up given I wasn't wearing a bra.

"I love your pretty tits babe," Ollie mumbles against my neck before pulling in one of my hard nipples into his mouth making me gasp slightly.

"Not much there," I mumble which has Ollie lifting his hand and pinching my free nipple making me whimper slightly.

"Don't take about my favorite tits like that," he says while jokingly stroke them like they had feelings.

"Big apologies," I say with a joking eye roll. Ollie moves over to the nipple he had just pinched and starts sucking on it instantly making the sting go away and turn into pure pleasure.

"Fuck," I moan gripping into Ollie's hair pulling him closer needing him.

"Please," I beg wanting him inside me more than I want to continue the teasing. Even the begging doesn't cause Ollie just continues playing with my tits before finally unbottoning my shorts and pulling them down with my thong leaving me completely bare for Ollie to use.

"Fuck, so pretty baby," Ollie mumbles before he starts kissing down from my tits to where I needed him the most.

"Can we try something," I gasp when I feel a soft lick on my clit.

"Does it prevent me from eating this pussy right this moment?" Ollie questions clearly annoyed that I put a stop to his plans.

"No, I just wanna try filming ourselves," I tell him softly when I suddenly lose all of Ollie's warmth as he is across the room grabbing his phone and propping it up against the night stand to film our activites.

Once Ollie is back into the bed he makes quick work of pulling my clit into his mouth and sucking on it before he starts licking all around my pussy like a starved man.

"Fuck, best pussy ever," Ollie groans into my pulling makng me whine and moan when he sends a strong vibration through my clit just from him taking into my pussy.

"Ollie, so good!" I gasp when he slips two fingers into my pussy and searching for my G-spot which didn't take him long.

"What would your brother think if he caught us? Yo clenching around my fingers and my face burried in your soaked fold while you're begging for more," Ollie says with a smirk making me gasp at the mention of his best friend.

"He's fucking murder you in cold blood," I tell him which makes Ollie laugh lightly before he slaps my inner thigh making me jump slightly and gasp from the sting.

"Well then, be a good girl and don't get too loud, he's right next door," Ollie tells me before going right back into my pussy and teasing my clit with his tongue.

"Ollie, I'm so close," I moan while pushing his head deeper into my pussy and holding him there while he speeds up his fingers working on my G-spot helping bring me over the edge into a loud orgasm.

"Fuck, Ollie!" I scream out before covering my mouth and start cumming all over Ollie's face. Ollie's fingers leave my pussy wrapping both arms around my thigh and holding me in place while he helps ride my orgasm out. Once my orgasm has finished Ollie continues teasing my clit allowing for the overstimulation to sink in before he pulls away and instantly pulls his pants and boxers off before climbing between my thighs and sinking right into my cunt leaving no time for me to adjust.

"Look so pretty wrapped around my cock" Ollie mumbles while he starts thrusting his hips making me whine at how much he is stretching me out.

"Too big," I whine looking up at Ollie who has a proud smirk on his face while he concentrates on thrusting into my pussy at a consistent pace.

When I feel Ollie softly place his hand on my tummy and push down I scream out because he threw me into an unexpected squirting orgasm.

This doesn't stop Ollie from fucking into me but he does move his hand but continues staring at my tummy making me look down and notice the very noticeable bulge in my tummy.

I knew Ollie was big but seeing a bulge in my tummy that is clearly made by his dick was surprising.

“Fucking you so good you I can see myself in your tummy," Ollie says clearly loving it just as much as I loved it.

"Fuck, Ollie," I moan.

I feel Ollie reach his arm over to the nightstand where he picks up the phone and turns the camera towards me.

Ollie made sure to keep the camera focused on everything but makes sure to draw attention to his cock poking through my stomach where he softly pokes at his cock each time he thrust in making me whine.

"You gonna cum all over my cock again?" Ollie states more like a question before he pushes down on my tummy again while he makes sure to keep the camera focused.

"Fuck," I scream again while cumming all over Ollie's cock again making him pull out and cumming all over my tummy and cumming so hard some of it landed on my tits.

"Fuck," Ollie groans before ending the video and getting me a towel so he can clean his cum up.

When I hear my phone ring next to me I look at it and notice that it's Kimi calling.

"I think he might have caught us," I joke while showing Ollie who was calling. Ollie makes a fake oopsie smile truly not really caring. I ignore the call but quickly receive a text from Kimi that says "Hanging out my ass"

I just laugh and ignore him pulling Ollie in closer.

[loafysainz]

the parent trap (remake) | CS 55

cast: carlos sainz x fem!reader

warn: 100% fiction & remake

chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5, chap 6

PART 5 THE TWINS PLAN

"Matheo, if your dad is my dad, then my mom is your mom and we have same birthday…"

Matheo’s eyes widened. "No. Don’t...don’t say it!"

"We’re twins!" Mattia shouted, his voice breaking with disbelief.

The boys hugged so tightly it was like they’d missed years together.

In the distance, the dining bell rang, but neither cared.

Matheo stared at Mattia, trying to hold back tears. "I’m not hungry anymore…"

Mattia almost laughed. How could Matheo even think about food right now? It reminded him of their mom.

"Wait..." Mattia pulled back, grinning. "Is it Matheo Sainz? Or Matheo Y/LN?"

Matheo laughed through tears. "I don’t even know anymore!"

They both burst into laughter, wiping their faces as the reality of being brothers sank in.

*****

That night, their bunk beds were pushed together, and they stayed up talking.

"What’s Mom like?" Matheo whispered, clutching the edge of his blanket.

Mattia thought for a moment, glancing at the photo on his nightstand. "She’s… everything. Strong, kind, smart. Oh, and when she’s determined? Nothing can stop her."

Matheo’s face softened. "I can’t wait to meet her."

"Yeah, well, she’s gonna love you."

A pause.

"Mattia, do you think she ever… thought about getting married?"

Mattia squinted, offended. "No way! She says her whole heart belongs to me."

Matheo snickered. "You’re so spoiled."

Mattia shoved him. "Shut up!"

"Okay, but seriously, why’d they split up?" Matheo asked, thoughtful.

Mattia shrugged. "No idea. Probably something dramatic."

Matheo sat up suddenly, eyes lighting up. "I have an idea. A brilliant beyond brilliant idea. Don't freak out, okay?" Matheo's grin widened. "You want to know what Dad is like, right? And I'm dying to know Mom. So here's the plan: when camp is over, we switch places.

Mattia blinked, startled. “Switch places?”

“Exactly!” Matheo exclaimed. “I’ll go back to London as you, and you go back to Madrid as me.”

“What? Matheo, we’re completely different!” Mattia protested, shaking his head. “This is impossible!”

“We’re twins, aren’t we? I’ll teach you how to be me, and you’ll teach me how to be you,” Matheo said confidently. “It’s foolproof! Look, I can already do you.” He straightened his posture, tilting his head slightly as he mimicked Mattia’s calm demeanor.

Mattia raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “You want to know the difference between us? I have class, and you don’t.”

Mattia laughed, brushing off the jab. “Come on, Mattia, think about it. I get to meet Mom, and you get to meet Dad. And let’s face it, sooner or later, they’ll figure out we’ve switched. And when they do, they’ll have to meet again. Face-to-face. After all these years.”

A moment of silence stretched between them as Mattia considered the idea. The corners of his lips twitched upward. “You’re insane, you know that?”

Matheo grinned triumphantly. “Insanely brilliant.”

*****

The next morning, the plan was already in motion. Mattia pulled out family photos and started quizzing Matheo.

"That's Grandpa" Mattia explained, pointing at a smiling man with platinum hair.

"He is amazing! I can't wait to meet him," Matheo gushed.

"and this is Martin, our butler"

"You’d better remember his name, or you’ll blow everything."

Matheo nodded, determined, while Mattia went over everything from family traditions.

"Right. Now its my turn. OK living room first. Then over here is dining room."

"But we never eat there in there except for thankagiving, christmas, and of course December 15th"

Meanwhile, their camp friends watched from afar, whispering.

"Why are they… acting weird?" Dean muttered.

"They’re up to something," Nate added, sipping his soda.

*****

Matheo paced nervously, glancing at the scissors in his hand and then at Mattia, who sat on the stool with his longand light hair. "Okay, don't close your eyes!" Mattia blurted, fidgeting. "Oh, sorry! I just got a little nervous," Matheo replied, biting his lip.

"You're nervous? an nine year old is cutting my hair. Hey, isn't it just like me? Well, I'm supposed to, aren't I? Go on, just do it. Don't panic." Matheo huffed, shaking his head.

Mattia smirked. "Come on, isn't it just like me to do something like this? And aren’t you supposed to, you know, make me look like you? Just do it. You’ll be fine!"

Matheo sighed dramatically. "This is so scary. But okay. Looking good, looking great…

Oh my God, Mattia!"

"What?!" Mattia’s eyes widened, and he instinctively touched his hair.

"You hair is lightest than me!" Matheo exclaimed.

Mattia rolled his eyes. "No, no, no, and no. Not happening. Don’t even think about it. I refuse."

"Then cutting your hair is pointless! You can't go to camp with brunnete hair and come home without them—it’ll be obvious!" Matheo argued, waving the scissors for emphasis.

Mattia groaned but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, but you better know what you're doing. Do we need some prep or something before dyed my hair?"

"Relax," Matheo said with a grin. "I’ve done this with all my friends—well, in my head—but it’s easy. Just trust me. Close your eyes, and it’ll be over before you know it."

"Relax, Mattia. This isn’t a big deal. On the count of three, let’s dye this lighter mess to match my gorgeous brown hair. You’re welcome."

Mattia nodded.

"One... Two… Three!" Matheo made the swift motion, and Mattia yelped.

"See? Not bad!" Matheo said proudly, holding up the mirror.

Mattia gasped. "Oh my gosh! I look… just like you!"

"Exactly!" Matheo said smugly, brushing the remaining hair off Mattia’s shoulders.

[luvinghanni]

Fluffy Boyfriend!Rafayel headcanons <3

★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★ ★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★ ★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★ ★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ

Boyfriend!Rafayel who loves to flirt and tease you every chance he gets. Whether it's a grab of your waist to shift you oh so slightly to the side or pulling your face towards his, lips inches apart before gently pulling away as if nothing happened.

Boyfriend!Rafayel who can't help but get protective of you in public. One of your male coworkers who just has to be too friendly? You can guarantee Rafayel is pulling you into him or making an excuse for the two of you to leave the conversation.

Boyfriend!Rafayel who yearns so heavily for your physical touch when you're alone. Even if you've been cuddling for the past few hours he just can't get enough of you..your scent, your laugh, your pretty eyes he happens to adore so much; you intoxicate him and he really hopes you notice.

Boyfriend!Rafayel who can't think straight after you guys argue- trying to sleep? Can't. Trying to paint? Hopeless. Rafayel will pace back and forth blowing up your phone eventually resulting to just going straight to your apartment when you worry him by not answering. Words can't express how much his stomach sinks when you open the door, eyes puffy and bloodshot as you reach out for his comfort and believe me he's more than happy to oblige as you sit down to talk things out.

Boyfriend!Rafayel who takes anniversaries super seriously-like SUPER seriously. It doesn't have to be a major event but he likes to fully acknowledge those milestones in your relationship, even if you guys just do something small like a wine night with some painting he doesn't mind as long as he gets to spend every moment with you.

Boyfriend!Rafayel who nearly passes out when it's time to pop the big question. He's been planning this for months and now he's clamming up, what if you say no? What if things get really awkward? The flurry of anxious thoughts in his head are finally swept away when he hears that wonderful word from your lips, yes.

------------------------------------------------------------

Guess who's finally risen from the dead 🤧

Sorry I haven't been active lately I've been so busy with personal things I just totally spaced about writing and kinda fell off so I wanted to crank a lil something out for you guys tonight.

Trying my best to get back into things so I think for the time being I'm gonna keep writing this short and sweet (Sabrina Carpenter reference??) headcanons as that's what you all seem to love the most 🥳

thanks so much for all the support on my works it really does mean the world to me 🤍🤍

- Hanni

[juniperdugong]

How the JJK characters sleep!

With: Gojo, Geto, Toji, Choso, Ino, Shoko

Gojo Your eyes flutter open, the light heat of the sun peaking through the curtains warms your skin, and you turn over from your restful sleep to your perfect boyfriend...

NOT! You wake as you're nearly being pushed off the bed as this large ass man that you've (unfortunately) invited into YOUR home to sleep in YOUR bed is sprawled out like a goddamn starfish. Snoring like he's SpongeBob's alarm clock. His pajama shirt is riding up and you would be drooling over his abs if it weren't for the amount of drool he's currently letting fall onto the pillow. Any attempt to push him over enough to get back on the bed is futile, you have to slap him awake to get anywhere.

"Satoru. Satoru... GOJO!" BWAM you smack his face. "HUH?! WHAT'S HAPPENING?!?! WHAT'S GOING ON! Hollow-" "HOLY SHIT NO JUST FUCKING MOVE TO YOUR SIDE OF THE BED????" "Oh, my angel! What's up?" Feet in the air kicking and giggling like he didn't just try to blow up everything from Tokyo to Hokkaido "Do not play with me right now Toru..."

Geto This man sleeps like the dead and has the routine of a 50's housewife, truly casket-ready if you were to ask me. You always fall asleep before him as he has an arduous night-time routine that he insists on doing, Every. Single. Night. And you (almost) always wake up before him. Rising from a night of peaceful rest you look over to his side of the bed and it almost freaks you out how still he is.

No snoring, lying perfectly on his backside, night mask still on. It really is freaky. The blanket is tucked so neatly under his arms that are placed on his chest like he's some sort of corpse. You get used to this over time but in the beginning stages of your relationship, there is definitely an urge to check if he's breathing once in a while.

You poke at his face and put a finger under his nose to see if air comes out. "Babe? What are you doing?" His face is completely still as he says this. "No offense but you looked dead..." "Can I not practice good sleeping habits and hygiene without being questioned?" "Boy- I did not say you couldn't."

Toji Here we have another big boy who, in his sleep, has managed to leave no room for you. Except this time you're certain it's on purpose. The way you flop onto the floor and crawl back up to see a smirk on this dumbass's face. He's got this shit planned out!

Of course, Toji would never admit it but he likes it when you're cuddled up next to him, even on the hottest days. Doesn't matter if you both sweat like dogs as long as he can feel you in his hold.

His smirk grows as his ploy continues. He stretches his arms out and, not so subtly, wakes up because of "the racket that you're making".

"Woah, doll! How'd you end up on the floor?" He's full-on smiling now. "...I think you know how Toji..." "No clue what you're talking bout...but I do know this could all be prevented if you slept on top of me." You have to scoff at this. "It is too early to-" "No funny business! Promise baby, you're just my favorite blanket s'all"

Choso He's a bit of a hot-blooded man. Sweats super easy in his sleep is what I'm saying. He cuddles you to sleep every night, you swear he does. But somehow when you wake up he's on top of the blanket, stripped down to his underwear, fan turned on high.

He hates it though! Doesn't like how he doesn't get to hold you all night without feeling uncomfortable. On occasion he'd attempt to just push through but the heat eventually gets to him. He can't sleep well if you're not next to him but he also can't sleep well if he's overheated.

A string of a apologies come from him every time he wakes in the middle of the night to move you over and get into a more comfortable state, he knows you don't hear him but it's just for his own peace of mind.

"I'm sorry honey, just gonna move you a little-" Mind you he's whispering, basically just mouthing words so he won't wake you. You're in deep sleep but you moving even an inch sends him into panic. "No no no, don't wake up! Sorry, just got a little hot, I promise I'll stay right here!" You wake up to a freezing cold room but at least you're man is sporting the cutest and most peaceful smile as he rests.

Ino He's a sloppy sleeper too! So you should never be surprised when you wake up and find this man somehow with the upper half of his body on the floor and the rest of him sprawled out on his side of the bed.

Lowkey...lowkey, I think he's a bit of a sleepwalker. NOTHING DANGEROUS! But definitely talks to you in his sleep and is constantly sitting up and waving his hands around like he's in an imaginary argument.

You'll wake up sometimes and you hear him whispering sweet nothings about you, obviously his dreams get wild enough for him to be professing his undying love for you to dream rando's. He denies it heavy if you him about it when he wakes up though.

"Baby..." "Yes, sweetheart?" "You know you talk in your sleep sometimes?" "No, I don't." "You do though, just last night you were arguing with someone named Micheal about how he was looking at your, and I quote, "WIFE"" "I did no such thing... But seriously who does Micheal think he is anyways?? Trying to take you away from me like you aren't the air I breath..." The pout on his face is lethal!

Shoko Certified couch sleeper for real. (She's just like me, your honor!) You cannot tell me that after a long day of dealing with whatever the fuck she has to deal with on the daily she isn't totally passing out on the couch before even making it to the bedroom. And you can bet you're ass that she's dragging you with her!

You'd wake up completely entangled in each others arms in the wee hours of the morning, now it's your turn to drag her to the bed. She might be slightly whiny but once you hit those soft sheets she's completely K.O.'d again and moving to cuddle you back to sleep as well. No excuses. Showering and eating can some later, sleeping is the main priority.

"Shoko, we should move to the bedroom. We'll wake up sore if we sleep here all night." "Just a few more minutes..." Still sleepy she grabs your hand and presses a small kiss to your knuckles, "...I'm comfortable right now."

A/N: Some jjk headcanons because I've been doing a lot of SVT stuff! I PROMISE I'M MULTIFANDOM! Srsly though, I barely get requests so if you see this please feel free! On that note, do you guys think putting a prompt list in my guidelines would help gain requests? Also, if you want more characters please let me know!! Have a great day lovelies! And please reblog and comment if you liked it or have any thoughts.

JJK Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[chrispotatos]

beg - chris sturniolo

summary: chris, your ex came over to your house telling you how much he needed you so you made sure he told you just that.

warning: hand job, mommy kink, overstimulating, blow job.

a/n: i lowkey didn't fuck with that mommy shit but yall hoes got me gagged so i just had to im looking at you rose.

my ex chris had just came over uninvited, he always does this asking me for thing material things that is but this time he was asking for me. so i planned to be what he needed but he was going to have to ask way nicer than he did.

"c'mon chris i know you can ask way better than that" i teased pulling up a chair infront of his sat body on the bed. i was making him do this because when we were together he'd normally boss me around in the bedroom and now it's my turn, i just know he's dreading it too thats what makes this more fun for me.

"can you touch me" he asked i raised my brows and made a hand gesture for him to go on "please" he whined. "of course i can" i said with a sarcastic smile

i pulled his sweats down to see his aching hard dick spring free "no underwear? almost like you knew this was gonna happen" ,,no, but i sure was hoping" he said, eliciting a chuckle from me. i grab his cock and wrap my lips around his tip, "oh fuck-" he moaned loudly. his hand goes to my hair and pushed my head down more, i gag a bit and swat his hand away pulling off.

"you want me to stop?" he shakes his head rapidly "thought so" instead of putting my mouth on his dick again i stroke him with my hand. a strangled whimper leaves his mouth "gonna make me feel bad if you don't speak" i cooed "wanna hear that pretty voice"

"don't stop" his hip thrusted into my hand so i stopped "no- keep going. I'm sorry, I'll be good" he whined screwing his eyes shut.

"that's right" i put a firm grip on his erected cock pumping up and down at a faster pace then before. wet lewd sounds and his little whimpers and moans here and there was the all i heard besides us two talking.

"feels so good m-" he cut himself off biting his lip to keep himself from talking "go on finish your sentence" i said in a low tone encouraging him to finish his sentence. "I'm not saying that" just as i got at nice pace his cock twitched in my hand i threatened to stop "you do wanna be a good boy f'me right?" i said he nodded "yes, please- mommy" it was like he chocked up the words 'mommy' it did little to shock me and only turned me on more. "i wanna be your good boy" he mewled.

his orgasm soon washed over him. the warm, white sticky cum oozed onto my hand. i stroke him slowly, riding his orgasm out. "that wasn't good was it?" i pouted "wha-" he winces at the contact my hand made with his length. i lick all the cum that leaked on his dick, he was a moaning mess. "you came without my permission that wasn't very nice"

"give mommy another orgasm hm?" i kitten lick his tip before wrapping my mouth around his cock and bobbing my head up and down "mm- feels so good" he babbled. he laid back and let his elbows help prop himself up, he rutted his hips fucking my mouth, making me gag. i pull my mouth off him again to speak "you wanna come?"

"mhm please- can i come for you" i nod wrapping my hands around him running my finger over his tip i slowly but aggressively pump in an up and down motion "m' so close" he moaned out. i put my mouth at the head of his dick, it still glistening from his last orgasm. his warm load soon painted my throat, i swallow everything and wipe the mess around my mouth.

"you did such a good job for me" i praised "lemme go get a towel to clean you up" he just nodded and thats all i needed from him to know it was okay to go get a towel. i came back with the cloth to clean him up and he hissed at the touch and held my wrist "no- please" ,,im just trying to clean you baby" he let go of my wrist allowing me to finish. i went to go put the towel away and when i came back he had already pulled his pants back up and sat up

"can i stay" chris asked, i took a moment to think. he was my ex after all but it didn't end on real bad terms i just wasn't ready for anything serious yet so i broke up with him. "I'd be happy if you did" a smile spreaded across his face, he got under the blankets and left them open for me to get in too.

a/n: please tell me i did a good job 😣 i don't really right sub chris or matt

[gretavangroupie]

Still, Us

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 30.7k

Warnings: Cursing, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Begging, Heartbreak, Sadness, Crying, Talks of Marriage, Touching, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Masturbation, and More.

Listen to the Playlist: Apple Music | Spotify

A/N: Wow this has been a long time coming. Sorry that I have been a little bit MIA lately, it was never my intention, life got crazy! I hope you will accept this as an apology. I have poured into this for weeks and I truly couldn’t have done it without the constant support from @gretavanmoon and @jakeyt. They have given me the drive to keep going even when I felt like giving up. This story would not have happened without them. Period. Anyway, I hope you like it and will accept my apology for being away so long. I have so much more planned for you all and I cannot wait to deliver. As always thank you so much for every comment, like, and reblog. It means so much to me to know that you enjoy my writing. ❤️

Frankenmuth, Michigan 

May 2014

“Jake, can you please turn it down just a little bit?” you plead, your feet propped up on the dashboard, and your hand hanging leisurely out the car window. The warm air feels magical as it glides through your fingers. You’d both been waiting for the warmer weather to blow through town and it was finally here.

You turn to look at Jake, his brown shaggy hair finally growing out like he wanted, just barely dusting over the tops of his shoulders now as it blows around him in the wind. 

“Turn down ‘Shooting Star’? Bad Company? Come on Pops, you know that’s not gonna happen,” he smirks, looking at you over the tops of his wayfarers. “This is like the story of my life.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head as you smile, watching him dramatically mouth the words to you as you coast up 83 towards your house. Jake is your best friend, has been for ten years now, and as you readied yourself for college life, he continued to pursue the dream he’s had since you’d known him, but now bringing his brothers into it with him.

“It’s hardly the story of your life,” you quip, “Maybe the life you wish you had.” you tease, elbowing him in the arm over the center console. 

He laughs as he purses his lips, and pushes you away, “Yeah you say that now, but watch. We are getting that damn record deal, I don’t care what it takes.”

You turned to look at him again as the two of you pulled off the freeway and headed toward your exit. He believed it. He truly did, and you believed that he would do exactly as he said. He has always been that way. Some would say he is hard headed, but you would say he is just determined. 

“I know, I know,” you start, being quickly cut off.

“You’re still coming right?” he urges, looking at you before looking back at the now green stoplight.

“Of course I’m still coming!” you laugh, “I pledged twenty bucks to be there, remember?!”

“Damn right, and you better be in the front where I can see you,” he grins, “Or should I say, where you can see me.”

You roll your eyes at him again, watching the shit eating grin stretch across his face. “You're so full of yourself Jacob Thomas, it's gonna get you in trouble one of these days, and I'm not gonna be there to save you.”

He puts his hand over his heart and looks absolutely offended by your comment, “Save me? Baby doll, you know I don’t need saving. You need saving. From yourself.”

“Oh really? How so?” you ask, challenging him with a quirk of your brow. 

He smirks as he keeps his eyes on the road, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, “You’re headed to college to be some hot shot lawyer or something. You’re way too cool for that, Pops. You should stick with me and the guys.”

You groan as he pitches his grand idea to you for the hundredth time.

“Seriously. You can do so many other things. You can tour, party, see the world, instead of sitting in some bleak office building reading dusty law books all day.” he says matter of factly.

“Jake…” you whine, knowing this conversation always goes nowhere and leaves your mind a mess of emotions. 

He sighs as his car comes to a stop in the driveway of your parents house. He looks over to you, and his voice is stern, “I’m serious Poppy. You’re a freebird, you’re not cut out for that boring life. I know it.”

You cut your eyes at him as you twist in the seat to face him, “So instead I can be some groupie, waiting on you guys hand and foot, cleaning up beer cans, and holding your hair back when you puke in some nasty bar bathroom? No thanks.”

He huffs in annoyance, “You know damn well that you'd be more than that. You'd be like…an honorary member of the band. You're not really the groupie type. You're far too good for that.” he says, twisting a lock of your messy hair over your shoulder. You can't help but to feel heat start to creep up your chest from the simple gesture. 

“You think so?” You ask timidly, your eyes locked in on his tawny brown eyes. 

His demeanor softens, and his finger twirls around the same lock of hair, “Poppy you are, without a shadow of a doubt, the smartest, toughest and coolest chick I’ve ever met. You are so much more than just some groupie.”

The nickname he gave you sounds different somehow– sweeter, maybe, in this moment. In an effort to quickly break the mounting tension growing between the two of you,  you nudge him hard in the arm, “You going soft on me, Kiszka?”

He laughs in response, his fingers releasing the lock of your hair and running them through his own before bringing it to rest on the steering wheel, “I may be many things, P, but soft is not one of them.” he grins playfully. “Now get out, I’ve got practice in ten minutes.”

You scoff and toss the passenger door open, grabbing your tattered bookbag on the way. As you shut the door he leans over the center console to look at you through the open window, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head.

“You know it’s just because I’m gonna miss you, Pops. More than I care to admit.” he confesses. 

“I know, Jake.” you answer, tossing your bag over your shoulder. “I'll miss you too.”

“Good. Oh, don’t forget I can’t pick you up tomorrow morning. We’re heading straight to Groovebox after classes to set up.” he says, flipping his glasses back down. 

“I remember,” you say with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t be late, Y/N,” he says sternly, lifting a brow.

“Rich coming from you,” you taunt, beginning to walk to your front door. 

“M’never late, just running on my own time,” he winks. “Catch up with you later, P,” he says finally, pulling away as Bad Company begins blasting through the speakers once more. 

—

Jake 8:57 PM: which shirt should I wear tomorrow

You 8:58 PM: Um, maybe that denim button down you like? With the pearl buttons?

Jake 8:59 PM: it’s dirty

You 9:00 PM: Ok uhhhh, what about that colorful shirt with the aztec looking patterns on it

Jake 9:00 PM: do you think that will look good on camera

You 9:01 PM: Yes

Jake 9:02 PM: do you think I should like, iron it or whatever

You 9:03 PM: Do rockstars iron their clothes?

Jake 9:04 PM: see you tomorrow ;)

The air is a bit cooler now that the sun has set, the wind whipping right through your thin shirt as you reach for the door handle to Groovebox Studios. Tonight was the night, finally. This has been all Jake has talked about for weeks and weeks on end. Tonight they would record seven songs, live, in front of all of their friends and family, and anyone else that pledged enough money to be there. It had been grueling listening to Jake torture himself over what songs they would choose to record tonight, but they finally narrowed it down. At least, you hoped they did since everyone was here and waiting. 

As you entered into the lobby it was bustling with familiar faces, all waiting to step into the studio to watch the session. You could hear the guys warming up through the wall, the wail of Jake's guitar immediately sticking out to you. You could also hear the crashing of the cymbals as Danny tested his kit and the deep thrum of Sam’s bass. You nervously picked at your fingernails as you waited to be let inside, eager to see the guys, but mostly Jake. You needed him to know you were here, on time, at that. 

A few minutes later the large double doors opened and everyone filed into the small studio. You weren’t really sure what to expect but there were bright lights, and cameras everywhere, scattered between recording equipment and wires. Jake hadn’t noticed you were here just yet, but you saw him immediately in the shirt the two of you decided on last night. Something about that made you warm inside but you forced it back down where it came from. It was Jake. It wasn’t like that. Right?

The first song began, the guys seeming completely relaxed and not at all phased by the large equipment and people surrounding them, watching their every move. Josh’s voice was as strong and confident as Danny’s drums. Finally, Jake looked up from his guitar and let his eyes scan the crowd. A small and relieved smile filled his face as his eyes met yours. A small nod of his head said everything you knew he wanted to say, seeing you there supporting him in the front row of people. You knew that being there meant a lot to him, and gave him the extra boost of confidence he needed to make it through this set.

You were completely transfixed watching him play, giving everything he had for those seven songs. It seemed to fly by in a flash, the show ending with all four guys sweaty and a little winded. The crowd that showed up for them broke out into a round of cheers and applause as you all marveled at the budding talent in front of you. You watched as Jake placed his guitar in the stand and moved towards the producers of the show, thanking them profusely as he shook their hands. 

Immediately after that though, his eyes found you. He walked straight towards you, ignoring everyone else around, wrapping you in a sweaty hug.

“Well, P, you made it on time,” he grins, pulling you in tight against him, your head resting against his chest. He smelled of sweat, cologne and faintly of smoke and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your knees just a little bit weak.

“How was it?” he panted, “Sound alright?”

You laugh pulling away from his grip, “Jake, that was amazing! Of course it sounded alright.”  

He smiles as you pull away, fidgeting with the tip of his nose,  “Yeah? You’re not just saying that ‘cause you’re my best friend, right?” he says with his signature smirk.

“When have I ever sugar coated anything, Jacob?” you taunt. 

He laughs as he playfully runs his hand through his damp hair, “Valid point.” he smirks, looking around briefly, “Stay right here for a sec. Don’t go, just need to go say hi to some people. Wait, you’re comin’ to the house right?”

“Is this you inviting me?” you tease, knowing you never need an invitation at the Kiszka household. 

He rolls his eyes, not playing into your little game one bit, “Yes, I’m inviting you smartass. Like you even need an invite.”

You nod your head and shoo him away to go talk to the people who came out to support him, but you can't help but feel special that you were the first person he wanted to see after such a big night. 

You watch as he moves from person to person, saying his hellos, shaking hands and talking about the show with each one. He was his normal, charismatic self, except for the small glances over to where you were waiting. It was as if he didn’t want you to go anywhere without checking on you every so often. You’re able to find a quiet corner of the studio to relax for a moment, and you find yourself watching him like he’s the only thing in the room.

He is still surrounded by everyone, laughing and talking. He is so in his element, being the center of attention. You're happy for him, he deserves it, but you find it a little annoying how every girl's eyes were glued to him. No matter how many times you push these thoughts away, they keep resurfacing. It's all in your head, you keep telling yourself, trying to shake the idea of being anything more than friends with him, yet you can't help the fluttering in your chest.

Twenty minutes later he is walking back over to you, the crowd of people slowly beginning to filter out as the rest of the guys begin to tear down their equipment. 

He comes to stand next to you, and his face is a bit more solemn now, the adrenaline from the show now long gone. “So I’ll see you at the house?” he asks, looking over his shoulder. “Just gotta pack up real quick, then make a quick beer stop then we will be home.”

“Beer stop? Did you forget we are 18?” you laugh. 

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Did you forget I have a fake ID?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Plus, I heard Sara Matthews is working tonight, and she won’t question it.”

“Getting started on the whole bad boy rock and roll thing early, huh…”

He lets out a laugh as he gathers his guitar cables from the floor and slings them over his shoulder, “I’ll have you know that I’ve been a bad boy for a long time now, baby doll.”

An hour and a half later you’re finally back in Frankenmuth and turning onto his street. You can see a few cars parked outside the house but you don’t see their van just yet. You laugh to yourself wondering if Jake was busted for his fake ID yet, or if Sara still had that crush on him from fourth grade. When you see the familiar set of headlights behind you, you know it's the latter. 

The van comes screeching around the corner, sliding into the driveway and nearly taking out the mailbox. You laugh, recognizing Josh’s driving anywhere. He cuts the engine and jumps from the driver's seat with a grin. Jake slips out of the back door, pulling his guitar case from the backseat, his other hand holding a twelve-pack. Wordlessly, he trots up to your car, nodding at you to join him as he makes his way across the lawn and into the house, leaving the door wide open behind him.

You slowly walk up the steps, a weird feeling starting to settle in your stomach as you enter through the front door. Music is already blaring from the basement, and the loud hum of multiple people chatting is growing louder the further you walk. You take in a deep breath as you turn the corner into the living room. A giant group is already gathered around, sipping drinks and mingling in the dimly lit room. Your eyes scan the sea of people and you recognize some of the faces from the studio, and the rest are most likely here just to party.

Your eyes scan the room for Jake, wondering where he took off to, but then you see him come bounding down the stairs in a clean blue t-shirt and a smile. He makes a beeline straight for you, his eyes locked on yours as he navigates the crowd. He finally reaches you, his hand landing on your shoulder and ushering you away from the crowd of people. “Come here,” he murmurs under his breath as he drags you down the hall towards the kitchen.

You follow behind him as he makes his way into the kitchen, and you know he is dead set on enjoying his well deserved twelve-pack. As predicted he takes out two cans, popping the tabs and handing one to you.  “Well, let's toast.”

You take the silver can from him, cold in your hand, “Okay, let’s…”

He lifts his beer up towards you with a smirk, his eyes locked on yours, “I guess I just want to say thank you for putting up with all of this the last few years, I know it hasn’t been easy,” he grins, his eyes raking over you, “You put up with a lot of bullshit from me, but even after all of that you’re still here.”

You tap your can to his, “Where else would I be?” you breathe. 

He takes a moment to study your face, his eyes tracing over your cheeks, your nose, your chin as they land on your own eyes. The two of you silently stand next to each other, the sounds of the rest of the party still loud and present from the other room, and you can nearly feel his heart beating against his chest from where you’re standing. The unspoken feelings rushing between the two of you are almost palpable. He doesn’t answer your question, instead choosing to remain quiet as he keeps his eyes trained on you.

You pull the can to your lips, sipping at the bubbly beverage, only slightly wincing at the taste. 

He laughs watching you try to drink the beer, trying to hide the grimace as the hops tickle your taste-buds, “It’s an acquired taste, Pops.” he grins, “And you’re going to have to get used to it before you get to college.”

You sigh, “It's not like college is some big party. I doubt it's like the movies.”

He laughs, resting his can on the counter next to him, “Sure it is. Beer flows like waterfalls, parties happening every day, you’ll even have a couple different flings I bet–” he pauses for a moment, his expression growing serious, “Just have fun, Pops. Get the full college experience.”

“I'll try, but I have to take this seriously. Definitely no flings or beer waterfalls or whatever.” you answer, skirting around that subject the best you can. 

“Well yeah, take things seriously, but don’t count yourself out of a little fun, too.” he says, resting his palm behind his head. He’s quiet for a moment before he continues, “Maybe you’ll meet some fancy law student…fall in love and get married and all that.”

“I don’t know, Jake…” You say nervously. “That’s not why I’m going to college.” Why in the world were you two talking about this? You could feel your cheeks growing warm. Doesn’t he know that the only future you’ve ever planned is the one with him in it? 

He raises an eyebrow at your flushed expression, “What’s wrong Pops, planning out your dream life  as we speak?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, “No,  Jake.” you grit out. “Can we like…go party or are we gonna stand here and play twenty questions about my love life all night?”

He raises his hands in surrender, “Fine, fine, we can go join those losers.” he murmurs, pushing himself off the counter. He lifts his hand in the air, motioning to the living room, “After you.”

A few hours later you find yourself laying on the basement floor in a pile of blankets, your mind hazy and free as you bask in the feeling of the alcohol swirling through your veins. Jake is laying next to you in a similar state, staring up at the warm string lights strung across the walls. Josh, Sam, and Danny are already passed out on the other side of the room, their snoring turning into a symphony as usual. Your body feels warm and weightless as you turn your head to the side to look at Jake.

He notices your movement, turning to face you, a small smile on his face as he watches you, a long empty can of beer clutched lazily in his hand. His cheeks are flushed and rosy, and you’re pretty sure he isn’t entirely with it considering you’ve lost count of how many beers he’s had since the party started. He lets out a small laugh, the kind he’s only capable of making when he’s like this, “You know what I just remembered?” he slurs, his words coming out slowly.

“What?” you answer, pursing your lips.

He grins, “Remember when we were kids, we’d sit on the edge of Cass River and throw rocks into the water for hours…‘til the sun would go down…” he mumbles, his gaze trained on the blue blanket beneath him. “We’d talk for hours, and it was just…So peaceful. We were best friends–” he trails off, running his tongue over his lower lip.

You nod, his words causing a slight tingle in your stomach as your own mind begins to wander. He is still watching you, his eyes traveling over your face, over your hair before he speaks again, “And we’re still best friends now…right?”

“Yeah of course we are, Jake. Me going to college isn’t going to change that.” you answer softly, seeing the worry painted across his face. 

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on him, “I know. I know, I just…” he pauses, his thoughts coming a little slower now, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without you here. I’m used to you bein’ around, it’s gonna feel weird…different.”

“It’s not like I’ll never come home, and you can call me and text me whenever you want. You know that. Where is all of this coming from, Jake?”

He sighs, his eyes dropping from your face and looking instead at the ceiling, “I dunno, I just…I guess I’m realizing it a bit more now that it’s actually about to happen. You’re going to school hundreds of miles away, with other people…other guys, and I won’t be there to keep those idiots in check.”

You giggle a little, the thought of him fending off guys a little humorous. “I already told you, I’m not going to college looking for guys. I’m going to become a lawyer, and I have to focus on the LSAT and getting into law school and everything else. Guys are going to be the last thing on my mind.”

He lets out an exasperated breath, “I know, Pops. That wasn’t my point.” he mutters before rolling onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His eyebrows are furrowed together as he looks at you, “I’m just worried about you, okay? I don’t want some douchey frat guy to come up and ruin everything…”

“Ruin what?” you ask, furrowing your brows. 

His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he looks away for a brief moment, but his gaze immediately returns on yours. “This.” he mutters softly, motioning a hand between the two of you. “Us. Our friendship, our bond. You know what I mean so don’t pretend that you don’t.”

“Nothing is going to come between us, Jake. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

He nods, a small hint of a smile creeping across his face, the tension in his shoulders slowly releasing, “I know you wouldn’t…it’s just me being a dumbass, as usual.”

“Jake, you're not a dumbass. I get it. I have the same worries you know. For all I know you’ll meet some super cool girl when you guys inevitably go on tour, and next thing you know you’ve forgotten my name.”

He laughs, moving his hand to playfully swat at you, “Come on now…there’s no way I’m going to forget your name, you’re the only girl I ever think about.”

You feel your heart lurch into your chest at his confession. He may not mean it the way you’re taking it, but part of you wonders if maybe he does. 

“So it’s agreed, no douchey frat guys for me, and no rockstar girlfriends for you,” you tease.

He laughs again, his fingers lightly brushing against the skin of your arm, “If that makes you happy then yes…agreed.” he grins, watching as the motion of his hand leaves a trail of goosebumps down your arm. “Just promise me one thing…”

“What’s that…” you answer. 

“Just, tell me…if you do– if you start to fall in love. Just tell me first.” he breathes. 

You can see the sincerity in his face, and hear it in his words. He really thinks…

“Jake, guys don’t– they don’t see me like that,” you pause. “It’s never been like that for me.”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, a frown on his lips growing by the second. “Bullshit.” he mutters, “Guys don’t see you like what?”

You muster up the courage thanks to the alcohol in your system, and tell him what you really think. “I’m not the kind of girl that guys fall in love with. I am plain– average old, Y/N. I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

He scoffs and turns onto his stomach, propping himself up on his elbows, “Plain and average? Is that what you really think?” he asks with disbelief. “Y/N, you’re beautiful, and the guys around here are just too blind to see it. There are guys who would kill to be with you, for just one single chance.”

“I don’t know, Jake. Maybe. But like I said, I don’t care about that. Once I make it on at a firm, maybe I’ll consider it.” you say. 

He studies your face, the alcohol starting to dull his inhibitions, his thoughts coming out unfiltered at this point, “You’re thinking like, ten years in the future P! You’re about to go to college and you’re talking like you’re never gonna meet anyone or pay anyone any mind. For ten years!  You’ve got to live, Poppy! You’ve never even been kissed for Christ’s sake!”

“Wow,” you breathe, the hurt washing over you. 

​​He sighs, realizing that he might have gone too far, “I didn't-” he stops, looking away from you before he speaks up again, “I'm sorry, that was shitty. I didn't mean to say it like that.”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, you’re right.” you reply. 

He looks back at you, his fingers running over your arm again, “No, it’s not…I shouldn’t have said it like that. It’s just, you think so little of yourself sometimes and it drives me insane. You are like…the most amazing person ever, and I don’t–” he stops himself, biting down on his bottom lip, “I just don’t understand how guys don’t see it.”

You’re a little taken aback, this is the first time that his true feelings about you have really come out. You’re unsure what to even say. 

“Thanks, Jake.” you smile, “I’ll let you know how my love life is going ten years from now.” you giggle. 

He looks at you for a long minute, and you can see the wheels turning in his head. 

“I have a better idea,” he says, taking a deep breath. “We’re 18 now, right?”

“Right…” you answer hesitantly.

“If you’re sure that you are dead set on waiting until you’re done with school to be with someone…” he pauses. 

“I am…” you confirm.

“Alright, when we are thirty, if neither of us are married…” he pauses, “Let’s marry each other.”

Shock fills your features, and you can tell that he notices by the smile pulling across his lips. He laughs lightly when you finally muster out a few syllables, “Come on P…it’s the perfect plan. If we’re both still single by thirty, we’ll get hitched.”

“Married?! Jake, you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t want to marry me!?”

“Sure I do. You’ve always been my girl,” he murmurs, still smiling, “and we’ve already established that no other guy will ever know you better than me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids, been through every high and low, you’re the only one who’s stuck with me through it all…so,” his voice trails off, “if we’re both available at thirty, I see no reason why we shouldn’t marry each other. Plus, our parents would love it.”

“Jake, this is crazy,” you pause, “I can’t let you do this. You can’t make that kind of promise…”

He leans back against the pillow behind him, his expression growing serious as he turns and looks at you, “I think I can. And I wouldn’t be promising if I couldn’t keep it. You’re it for me, Poppy. You always have been...”

“I didn’t think– Do you– I didn’t think you felt that way about me…” 

He lets out a dry laugh, watching the realization starting to hit you, “How could you not know? We’ve spent our entire lives together…this is nothing new.” he sighs, pausing for a moment, “I should have probably said something before, but…I think a part of me was afraid that you didn’t feel the same way and I would end up ruining everything and lose you…” he pauses. “Why do you think I’m over here telling you not to fall in love with some stupid college guy? I want it to be me, P…I’m your guy. I always have been. The question is, do you feel the same?”

“Of course I do Jake. I– I just…” you stammer. “I’m sorry I don’t even know what to say, I–”

Your heart is racing and your eyes are glued to his every movement. You want to scream from the rooftops, but right here in the moment you can barely form a word. 

“Say you feel the same, that’s all you need to say.” He gently takes up your chin, his thumb running across your bottom lip, “Say you want it to be me.”

Your eyelids grow heavy as his warm thumb brushes your lip, “Yes,” you breathe, your eyes locked on his. “I feel the same.”

He lets out a low breath, the words that you’ve just spoken going straight to his gut, “You know I’ve wanted to kiss you for as long as I can remember.” he murmurs, his fingers still resting against your chin.

“Really…”

He nods his head, a small smile creeping up on the corner of his mouth, “Yeah. Since middle school, at the very least. Maybe even earlier…” he pauses, “It’s a shame you’re making me wait until we’re thirty.”

You smile at him playfully, “I mean...maybe we don't have to…”

A low grin slowly spreads across his face, “Don’t tease me, P.” he murmurs, his fingers still lingering on your chin and gently tugging at your bottom lip.

“Who says I am?” you whisper.

His breathing is becoming ragged as he gently runs his thumb over your bottom lip once more, “Poppy…say yes…” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

“To what?” you breathe. 

“To the pact. To kissing me. To all of it.” he mumbles, his thumb still stroking over your bottom lip, his free hand slowly traveling from your neck to the small of your back, gently pulling you towards him.

Your eyes flick to his, the string lights glowing in the reflection of his eyes. You can feel his body pressed against yours in the most delicious way, the closest you’ve ever been to  each other.  “Yes, Jake.”

And just like that, his lips are crashing into yours, his hand moving from your lower back to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, a low breathy moan leaving his lips as he pulls you into him even more. His kiss is slow and tender at first, the taste of beer still lingering on his lips as he moves them over yours in a languid back and forth, but it soon turns desperate and hungry as his tongue presses urgently against yours, a low growl leaving his chest, all of the feelings and emotions that he’s harbored for years releasing themselves in this one moment. But within seconds, it’s over. 

He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you breathing in and out heavily. The kiss has both of you in a daze, your mind struggling to focus on anything other than the fact that your best friend just kissed you. Your first kiss. A content smile stretches across your face before you let your head fall into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in the scent of his cologne as he wraps his arms around you. 

He holds you tightly against him, his chin resting at the top of your head as he runs his fingers across your bare arm. The feeling of your body pressed against his is one you’ve dreamed about for years and now experiencing it for the first time, you never want him to let you go.

“Thank you, Jake.” you say softly into his chest. 

He pulls you in even tighter, his heart rate finally starting to return to normal as he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “For what?” he hums softly.

“For being my first kiss. I always wanted it to be you.” you answer. 

A smile spreads across his face and he squeezes you a little tighter again. “Me too, Pops.” He pauses, his hand finding a loose strand of your hair and twisting it around his finger, “and for the record, I hope I’m your last.”

You laugh, but then an idea strikes you. “Oh yeah, about that. Don't we need to like, sign our names on the line or something?” you say playfully. 

He pauses for a moment, looking down at you but quickly realizing what you mean. A small smirk spreads across his face and he lets out a small laugh, “I don’t know if we’ve got a pen and paper down here…”

You shrug as you look at him, but then he quickly reaches his hand into his pocket, pulling out a crumpled gas station receipt from his beer run earlier in the night. “Will this work?”

“I don’t see why not?” you grin. 

He reaches up behind the two of you, digging around in the pocket  of Josh’s backpack that was left on the couch, pulling his hand out with a smile. “A pen.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes ironing out the fine print of your arrangement, before Jake takes the liberty of writing out the words on the back of the receipt paper. 

‘At age 30, if both parties are single they will enter into marriage with each other.’

You both sign your names beneath the words, the act feeling strangely good and you can tell you both are feeling it. “So it’s official…” you say, letting your eyes meet his.

He stares down at the receipt, the ink of your signatures drying on the back. A weird feeling of finality washes over you as he slowly nods his head, “Yeah, I guess we’re really doing this.”

“The pact.” you grin, leaning into his shoulder. 

He lets out a soft laugh as he looks down at you, his arm wrapping tighter around your shoulders, “The pact,” he repeats softly, before pressing another kiss to the top of your head and sealing your fate as you know it. 

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

2015 

“Yeah, fuck–” he groans, “keep doing that, baby…”

Your eyes flick up to meet his icy blue eyes, his tip nudging the back of your throat as you take as much of him as you can. You know it won’t be long now, you can feel the tightening of his abs as he fights off his release. You release him from your lips with a pop, dragging your tongue up the underside of his cock for dramatic effect. You can hear the bass line of ‘Starboy’ thundering through the walls of the fraternity house party still happening downstairs, momentarily pulling you from the moment you found yourself in. 

You feel Trevors hand as it lands on the back of your head, returning you to your task. Again you take him into your throat, never letting your eyes part from his as your hands cup his balls. 

“Fuck baby doll, you’re fuckin’ amazing,” he groans,  his cock starting to jerk with need. 

You wince as the pet name rolls off his tongue, taking you back to a place you’d rather not remember right now. Right back to Jake. 

Jake. Where was he right now? What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t at the back of some girl's throat. What were you doing?

Suddenly you feel him as his cum starts to paint the back of your throat, swallowing him down with every grunt that leaves his chest. You pull off of him quickly, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Your mind is suddenly a jumbled mess of thoughts, the single word sending you into a tailspin of guilt. 

“Felt good as fuck, baby,” Trevor says, pulling up his jeans. 

You give him a curt smile as you pull yourself up off of the dirty bathroom floor. “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“What?” he questions, grabbing his red cup from the bathroom counter. “Baby?”

“No.” you answer quickly. “Baby doll. Don’t call me that. I don’t like it.”

“Sorry, babe. My bad.” he says nonchalantly. “You good?” he asks, turning to open the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, “Yeah. I’m fine.” you answer, watching him spin the door knob to open the door. The music from the party hits you full force, and that combined with the alcohol in your system hits you hard. “Actually, I think I’m gonna head out.”

“Why, the party is just getting started, it's only two,” he says, ushering you down the stairs. “And I thought you were coming home with me tonight.”

“Eh, I need to be at the library tomorrow morning first thing. I have an exam tomorrow afternoon.” you say, “I’ll call you though, yeah?”

He shakes his head, “Whatever, babe. Later.”

Relief washes over you as you free yourself from Trevor, and make your way through the party and out into the fresh air of Fraternity row.

“Fuck. What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?” you grit out, making the short walk back to your dorm. The air is starting to chill as fall begins to wash over Chicago. You kick yourself the entire way to your door, immediate regret setting in as you let your mind wander back to Jake. 

It had been a few weeks since the two of you spoke, and you definitely hadn’t let him know about your little ongoing situation with Trevor. You didn’t even truly know if you needed to. It wasn’t serious, and that was the deal, right?

As you lock the door behind you, you toss your bag onto your desk, hearing the loud thud as your phone hits the wooden table. It reminds you that you haven’t looked at it in hours. Pulling it from your purse you see a few Instagram notifications but more importantly you see that you missed call and a missed text from Jake. You wonder if you were on his mind, too. 

Jake 1:46 AM: Pops, call me when you can, I have big news.

Your eyes flash to your clock seeing it read out 2:32 AM, and you wonder if he is still up. If he would answer your call. You decide to try, knowing he keeps late hours. The line rings out four times before you hear his raspy voice answering the call. 

“Hey Pops,” he says, and you can tell you’ve woken him. 

“Shit, sorry, I woke you up didn’t I?” 

“Yeah, but it’s okay. Nice to hear your voice instead of reading it on a screen,” he laughs, clearing his throat. “It’s late Poppy, where have you been all night? Are you just getting home?”

You feel hesitant to answer but decide on the truth, “Yeah, I– I was out. I was at a party with some friends.”

You hear a deep hum as he takes in your words and you already know what he’s thinking. “Did you have fun?”

“Um, yeah I guess so…” you lie. “But that's not why I’m calling, I saw your text. What’s up, is everything okay?”

He lets out a soft sigh, his voice still thick with sleep, “Yeah everything is fine. Everything is great actually. Sorry to just text you out of the blue like that, but I wanted to– I just wanted to tell you over the phone instead of texting.” He pauses for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts, “It took a while but, the deal went through. We were signed for an album and we’re  gonna tour it.”

“Oh my god, Jake!”

“We are releasing a fucking album, Pops.” he repeats. 

“I don’t even know what to say, I am so– I am so proud of you Jake! I can’t believe it! I mean, I can but, you know what I mean!” you gush. 

You hear his soft laugh from the other end of the phone, “You don’t really have to say anything. Or you can scream or do whatever. I just needed to tell you. I wanted you to be the first person to know.”

The words then hit you, “Wait, I’m the first person you’ve told?”

“Yeah, you’re the first.” he laughs, “You’re the one I need to tell everything to, first. Just how it's always been. How I want it to always be.”

“I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

You can hear his smile on the other end of the phone, “I’m proud too. God, I wish you were here, Pops. Wish you were here celebrating with me.”

A sigh leaves your lips, “I wish I was there too.”

“Pops, listen, it– It might be a while before we can see each other again. We– we’re going to be touring all through the spring. All over the place…”

“Oh, I–”

“No, no, don’t worry or anything, I just mean I will miss you, that’s all. But you’re doing your thing in Chicago and I’m doing mine out here. Just kinda the paths we are on right now.” he pauses, “But I’ve still got a couple of weeks at the end of the year before we go. We can see each other then, right?”

You bite your lips together as you try to stay positive, “Yeah. Yeah of course.”

“Good.” he answers, “Just keep on going, Poppy. We’ve got this.”

“Yeah. Yeah we do.” you answer quietly. 

“Alright, well, we should probably get some sleep, it’s late. But one more thing before you go…” he trails off. 

“What’s that…”

“Just…” he pauses hesitantly, “We’re still, us, right?”

“Yeah, Jake. We’re still us. Nothing has changed.” you confirm. 

“Okay. Well, goodnight, Pops,” he says, his voice growing sleepy again. 

“Goodnight, Jake.” you whisper, hitting the red button to end the call. 

As you collapse down onto your lumpy dorm room bed you run your hand over your face. You try to shake the hollow feeling in your stomach at the thought of everything being okay, but you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease washing over you as you pull the blankets over your head. 

December 8,  2015

Jake 4:27 PM: When do you come home for winter break?

You 5:09 PM: I’m not sure yet. Cramming for finals currently. 

Jake 5:20 PM: good luck pops

December 19, 2015

Jake 11:47AM: We are leaving for Detroit to get a van and trailer. I can’t believe we are really going on tour. Miss you. 

December 22, 2015

Jake 9:57 PM:  I saw your mom today and she said you won’t be home for Christmas. Would it be weird if I came to see you? Let me know. 

December 25, 2015

Jake 7:46 AM: Merry Christmas, Pops. 

You 9:04 AM: Merry Christmas, Jake. Miss you. I’ll call you soon. 

December 29, 2015

You 12:03 PM: sorry I haven’t called, I’ve been so busy. When do you leave for tour?

Jake 1:10 PM: January 8th. We’ll be in Chicago on the 24th, should I leave you a ticket?

You 1:27 PM: Can you leave two?

Jake 1:30 PM: Anything for you pops. Can’t wait to see you. 

January 23, 2016

Jake 8:46 PM: leaving the venue in Springfield heading towards Chicago. See you tomorrow?

You 9:23 PM: Yes ❤️

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

January 24, 2016

“So what’ve you got going today babe?” Trevor asks, rolling over to face you. 

“Honestly not a lot. I have a class at 1:00 then I guess I am just going to come back here and get ready to go to that show. You still want to come with me right?”

“Yeah for sure, sounds like a good time,” he says, kissing your  shoulder as you sit up on your elbows. The sheet now barely covers your naked bodies, the light sheen of sweat now dry.

A knock on your door startles both of you, your head snapping to the right to look at Trevor, “You think it’s the RA?” 

“Fucking hope not,” he whispers, quickly pulling himself up out of your bed. 

You jump up, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over your head as you rush to the door. You push back your hair and take a deep breath as you open the door, but much to your surprise, it’s not the RA.

“Jake?!” 

“Hey, Pops,” he grins, his smile lighting you on fire. His hands are in his pockets, and he seems almost nervous.

“Jake what– what are you doing here?” you rush out, taking in the sight of him for the first time in a long time. His hair is longer now, and he seems as if he's added a little bit of muscle tone.

“We got into town early, thought I’d surprise you,” he answers, his eyes flicking up and down your body as he takes in your current state.

Before you even have time to explain, Trevor walks up behind you, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“All good, babe?” he asks, his eyes locked on Jake. 

You see the exact moment that realization hits Jake and you swallow harshly, “Yeah, yeah, um everything is fine. This is my friend Jake. He’s in the band we’re seeing tonight.”

You watch as Jake lets out a small huff of air, anger washing over him. “Jake,” he nods, “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too.” Trevor answers. 

“I see you’re busy, Pops. I’ll uh– catch you later.” he says, looking at you before walking away. You don’t even have time to speak before you hear the elevator doors opening. You shut your dorm room door with tears welling in your eyes, doing your best to not let Trevor see, but a huge lump has formed in your throat, and you feel like you might be sick, so you quickly dart into the bathroom before Trevor can question you. 

Your blood is rushing around furiously as you pick up the two tickets at willcall under your name.  Trevor seems oblivious to your anxiety, though, you are doing your best to keep it under wraps. The energy in the small venue is buzzing around you and your excitement doubles once you step through the double doors and enter inside. There are a few people gathered at the front of the stage, and you and Trevor step up behind them. Your heart is pounding as your eyes catch on the drum kit, seeing the band's logo displayed proudly. It won't be too much longer until they go on stage, opening for the main act, and you know more people will begin to show up after they start. 

“So you’ve seen them before?” Trevor asks, turning to look at you. 

“Um, yeah kinda. But not like this. Not on a big stage with lights and real sound equipment,” you answer, doing your best to shut him up. 

Your eyes are focused on the side of the stage where you see a few familiar faces getting ready to go on stage. A smile stretches across your face and your heart starts to pound harder, knowing Jake will be in front of you in mere seconds. The house music starts to quiet down and you watch as Josh takes the stage. He is followed by Sam and Danny, and finally you see Jake step up with his red SG.

They immediately begin playing, and Josh starts talking to the crowd of people that have gathered around you. There are more people here than you would have thought, but you chalk it up to their successful shows in other surrounding states. But you’re more so shocked at the sheer presence of  them on the stage. In seconds Jake’s guitar is commanding the attention of the entire venue, all eyes on him. Part of you wants him to look at you, but the other part of you is still feeling guilty about this morning's earlier interaction. 

As your attention focuses on him, you notice that his attention seems to be focused on everything but the crowd of people in front of him, in fact he seems to be looking over the crowd as he strums out the chords to the first song. It’s then you realize that he seems to be intentionally not looking for you. You hate to admit that it  hurts. 

The performance begins, and Josh starts the opening lyrics to a song you've never heard before, but it's incredible. You can't help but notice that the lyrics seem almost as if they could be about you, and it sends chills up and down your spine. Surely not.

It's then that Jake's eyes meet yours, locking in on you as Josh continues to sing. Your breath is caught in your chest and as you struggle to blink you see Jake look over at Trevor. Your heart begins to race, your cheeks turning flushed. It seems as if time has stopped, like the two of you are the only people here, in the entire world. You hold his gaze again for a moment before he rips his eyes away, returning his focus back to the music. 

The show continues this way, the constant back and forth as the two of you look at each other, speaking silently as he plays guitar. It feels like an eternity before the show is finally over, their set is ending and the guys are walking offstage. The crowd erupts into applause and cheers, and you and Trevor begin to make your way towards the back of the venue, but not before Josh spots you and wraps his sweaty arms around you. 

He looks flushed and out of breath but still has a million dollar smile plastered across his face, “Y/N! I’m glad you made it out. Did you enjoy the show?” he says, but doesn’t let go of the hug despite him dripping sweat onto your shoulder.

“Of course I did! I always do, you guys were amazing!” you shout, hearing the headliner start their set. “It’s nice to see you on a real stage where you belong.”

He lets out a low laugh, finally letting go of you, “It’s still unreal. I can’t even pretend like I’m used to it. Thanks for being here.” he pauses. “I don’t know where Jake ran off to but I’ll find him and send him your way.”

“Thanks,” you smile, seeing him wave over his shoulder. 

You turn back around to see Trevor standing beside you, a small hint of confusion on his face. He looks like he has something he wants to say, and you know exactly what it is.

“Yes, I know the whole band, and yes Jake is a twin,” you smile. 

He shakes his head and looks down at the sticky bar floor before looking back at you. “No actually it's not that. I saw the way you look at him, Y/N, at Jake… Like you couldn’t take your eyes off of him for the entire show. And how he couldn’t take his eyes off you either. Not once.”

Panic begins to set in, your heart rate immediately spiking, “What? No. I– I watched everybody, Trev.”

He raises an eyebrow as he stares you down, “No, you didn’t. You watched him.” he replies, his face growing serious as he looks you over, “I’m not stupid, babe. You’ve been with me for a while now, and I have never once seen you look at me the way you were looking at him.”

“No, you’re imagining things,” you say dismissively, seeing Jake appear in the crowd, heading your direction at possibly the worst time. 

“No, I’m not imagining things,” he mutters, his words turning cold. “Just admit it. Say that you have feelings for him.”

Jake finally makes his way over to you, and by that point the tension between the three of you is as thick as molasses. Jake’s face changes the moment he sees the expression on your face.

“Hey Pops, what’s going on? Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes flickering between you and Trevor.

“Um–” you stammer, unsure what to say to diffuse the tension between you and Trevor.

Trevor looks at Jake, his eyes narrowing at your obvious discomfort, “Just settling an issue here, that’s all.”

Jake looks at him, obviously confused and concerned, “What issue is that?”

“Oh, so you’re going to play dumb, too?” Trevor quips, “Of course.”

Jake’s face turns serious as his eyes narrow, “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, man. You want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

“Not much to tell. I can just tell when a guy and a girl have feelings for each other. We’re working through the issue right now.” he answers nonchalantly, gesturing in your direction.

“Trevor!” you snap, your face burning with embarrassment. 

He shrugs his shoulders, “What? We are. Am I wrong? You’ve got feelings for this dude, right?”

Jake is standing stock still, his eyes wide and focused on you as Trevor mentions the feelings you’re not supposed to have.

The tension in the air is palpable, the realization of what he’s saying slowly settling in on him. “Right?” he asks again. You can’t bring yourself to look at either one of them, your gaze remaining locked on the ground.

“No. I don’t Trevor. You are my boyfriend. Jake is…just a friend…from back home. I'm here with you.” you answer, feeling your own heart break as the words pierce through Jake, too. 

He stands there, his face expressionless as your words sink in. He’s frozen, staring down at you, but your head is still glued to the ground and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

Trevor lets out a breath, “We’ll just have to agree to disagree then. All I’m saying is the way you were looking at him just now, and the way he was looking at you…there’s something between you two that isn’t just a regular thing, and I see it.”

“No man, she's right. We are just friends. Nothing more. Never have been, never will be. Isn’t that right, Pops.” Jake says, and you can feel the venom in his words. 

You dare glance up at him, but the moment your eyes meet you regret it. His face looks like stone, the light in his eyes now replaced with a dark, dull anger. You can’t remember the last time you’ve seen Jake like this, his gaze locked on yours, staring you down.

“Right, Pops? We’re just friends,” he repeats, but his voice lacks the comfort of the countless times he’s said those words before to you. There’s no reassurance in there this time, no hint of a smile. This is not the Jake you know. The Jake that you love.

“Right,” you breathe, wishing more than anything you could just disappear into thin air. 

He holds your gaze for just a moment longer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you, waiting for something more from you, but you just can’t say it, your voice having abandoned you.

“Okay, great, well uh– thanks for coming out. See ya ‘round, Pops.” You watch as he nods his head toward you dismissively, turning and disappearing into the crowd.

The feeling of him walking away from you, the anger in his face and in his words, it’s leaving you with an unbearable emptiness feeling in your chest. Your head is swimming with everything that has just transpired. You’re unable to move, but Trevor breaks you out of your trance with a hand on your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Part of you wants to stay, to leave Trevor and find Jake and make things right, but you know you can't. It's too late. The damage is done. You let him lead you out, your head down as you stumble out of the venue. The night sky is cold and black, the weight of the moment still fresh. You let Trevor lead you away from the venue. Away from Jake. 

You make the trip back to your dorm in silence, both of you just wanting to forget about the whole thing and curl up in bed and sleep. He doesn’t try to talk, but you can feel his tense energy radiating off of him next to you, and you aren’t totally sure if he’s angry with you or just the situation in general.

As you slide into your bed, your mind is still replaying the moments back in the venue. Jake’s face as you denied having any feelings for him. The way he used a nickname that once was special between you two and somehow made it sound so cold. The way he didn’t argue when you denied your feelings to Trevor. And the worst part of all, your inability to correct him.

The sheets feel heavy on top of your body, and you’ve never felt more lonely. The person who knows you best is a couple miles away from you, and at the same time he’s never felt more distant. You want to try and sleep, hoping the morning can bring you some reprieve but you instead end up staring at the ceiling and letting the tears quietly fall.

Northwestern University - Chicago, Illinois

November 10, 2016

“Miss Y/N?” the dorm attendant calls out as you walk through the entry doors.

“Yes?” you answer, stopping at the desk with a smile. 

“You had a delivery come this morning,” she smiles, “a big beautiful one.”

“Me?” you ask, not expecting any deliveries. 

“Yes, stay right here and I will get it,” she says, scampering off to the back office to retrieve your package.

However, when she steps out your heart nearly drops. It’s not a package at all. It's a giant bouquet of flowers, but not just any flowers. Your eyes instantly begin to fill with tears, and a familiar ache in your heart flares up. Poppies, at least two dozen of them in a bright pink vase. They are all blooming and vibrant and you don’t even need to read the card to know who they are from. 

You accept them from her with thanks, and rush back to your dorm room as fast as you can. The tears are beginning to stream  from the corners of your eyes as you kick the door shut behind you. You place the flowers on your desk, and with shaky hands you pull the tiny red card from the holder. 

The outside of the envelope reads ‘Happy Birthday’ in bold handwriting. You look at the envelope one more time before ripping open the seal and pulling the card out. The front of the card has a handwritten message. ‘Have a great birthday, Pops.’

There’s no signature, but you know who it’s from. You open the card and find the inside blank, except for one simple phrase written in the middle.

‘Still us, right?’

You feel like your heart has exploded in your chest, the tears falling faster now. You feel a knot in the pit of your stomach as you read those words again and again, your brain unable to wrap your head fully around what they mean. You know what he’s really asking, and the feeling of shame and guilt over the way that you left things is even stronger now.

“What did I do?” you whisper to yourself. You never wanted to hurt him, that was never your intention. You let your head sink, your eyes landing on the beautiful multicolored flowers on the desk. You let the tears continue to fall, the guilt and helplessness washing over you in a fresh wave. You let your head fall into your hands, trying to will yourself to do something, anything, but the feeling of despair and the memory of how Jake’s face looked that night in the venue is like a heavy weight on top of you.

Should you call him? Text him?

You look around your dorm, as if a sign would pop up and tell you exactly what to do. You turn and look at your phone, your hands shaking as you reach out toward it. You think about calling him, you think about texting, but what would you say?

You want to say how sorry you are, how much you’ve missed him, and how much better everything would be if you could both go back and do that night over again...but what good is saying those things now? It’s too late for regret, no matter how badly you want to go back and change the last few months.

You pick up the phone, your fingers shaking slightly as you dial his number. The phone rings for a few seconds until you hear his voice on the other line. “Poppy?”

“Jake,” you reply. 

“Hey,” his voice responds, a little bit of surprise and relief in it. He hesitates before continuing, “Guessing you got the flowers?”

“I did. Jake, they are so beautiful. I love them.” you answer. There’s an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, the elephant in the room growing larger by the second.

“Yeah, I’m really glad you like them,” he replies, his voice sounding less surprised and a little bit of normalcy starting to return to the conversation. He lets another pause linger between the two of you, the silence feeling strange after all the time you’ve gone without speaking to each other. Then he speaks again. “I wasn’t sure you were going to call.”

“I wasn’t sure you would answer,” you say sheepishly.

He lets out a gentle chuckle, the sound of his laugh somehow still warming your heart. “Yeah, to be honest I was a little hesitant to answer. But I’m glad you called.” he says quietly.

“I um– I got your…note.” you breathe. 

A pause fills the line before he speaks again, this time quieter. “Yeah, it’s just been kind of heavy having the distance between us lately. I just… needed you to know that the way things ended last time we saw each other, I never meant to…” he trails off, suddenly unsure of the proper words to say.

“Jake, I-” you start, but he interrupts you.

“No, you don’t have to say anything,” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice. “Please don’t feel bad, okay? I just needed you to know that we’re still…” he fades off again, that familiar feeling of helplessness filling the air. He takes a moment before continuing, “You’re still my best friend and you always will be. I don’t want us to lose that. I don’t want to lose you any more. You’re my girl, Pops. Always will be.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Jake,” you confess, your voice cracking with pain. 

“I know.” he replies, letting out a sigh, “And I understand.” Another moment passes between the two of you before he speaks again. “Listen, I’ve got to go, we are going on soon and Josh is breathing down my neck, but I’m glad you called. It means a lot to hear your voice. Let’s try and…I don’t know, talk more?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry to keep you, I just…” you pause, “Have a good show, Jake... a-and thank you for the flowers.”

“Of course, anything for my girl,” he answers, “and Happy Birthday.”

“Thank you…” you trail off. 

“Call soon?” he asks, the volume in the background starting to grow louder.

“I’d like that,” you breathe, feeling the distance from him even more than before. 

“Good. Okay, well have a good night, P.” he says softly, and right before you think he’s hung up you hear him whisper, “It’s still us, Poppy.”

“Still us,” you confirm, the call ending as the words leave your lips. 

January 4, 2017

Jake 8:12 AM: Just signed the contract for a headlining world tour. I can’t believe it, Pops.

You 7:58 PM: I’m so proud of you Jake

March 28, 2017

Jake 11:04 PM: Just walked past a street vendor selling red poppies. Apparently they are a big thing here. Thought of you. Miss you. 

You 11:24 PM: I miss you too. Where are you at these days?

Jake 11:30 PM: In Paris right now, England tomorrow, then Scotland. It’s beautiful here. 

You 11:32 PM: I can only imagine.

Jake 11:33 PM: One day, Pops.

June 7, 2017

You 12:25 PM: Did I just see that you guys are playing Lollapalooza?! Jake!

Jake 1:49 PM: You did, can you believe it? 

You 1:50 PM: We used to daydream about that

Jake 1:56 PM: No more dreaming. Can I save you an Artist wristband?

You 1:58 PM: You’d do that for me?

Jake 2:00 PM: Of course poppy, you’re my girl. 

August 3, 2017

Jake 8:09 AM: P, it’s show day and I haven't heard from you. You still coming? Your wristband is at will call.

You 10:23 AM: Jake, I am so so so sorry. I can’t find anyone to cover my shift tonight at work. I’ve been trying for weeks. I hate to miss this. I am so sorry. :(

Jake 10:40 AM: Ahh, it’s alright P,  there will be more. I’ll catch you at the next one. 

You 10:45 AM: I won’t miss the next one. I swear. 

Jake 10:46 AM: I’m holding you to it. Call soon. 

November 10, 2017

You 2:21 PM: Thank you for the poppies Jake. They are even more beautiful than last years bouquet. Miss you so much. 

Jake 3:04 PM: Anything for you, Y/N. Happy Birthday. 

February 18, 2018

Jake 7:34 PM:  *Open in Spotify*  - Bad Company - Call On Me

You 7:45 PM: I remember listening to this album in your car non stop senior year lol

Jake 7:48 PM: Still one of the very best. I always think of you when I hear that one though. 

You 7:50 PM: Even if I called on you I don’t think you could get here very quickly. Last I saw on Instagram you guys were in Belgium. 

Jake 7:54 PM: We are, but all you need to do is say the word, Pops. 

You 8:00 PM: Miss you. 

Jake 8:01 PM: Miss you more. 

April 4, 2019

Jake 7:48 PM: My mom said she got your graduation invitation in the mail today. So proud of you Y/N. 

You 8:21 PM: It feels like it went by so fast. I can’t believe it’s over. I actually just received my acceptance letter from the University of Michigan today. I’m officially going to Law School. 

Jake 8:30 PM: You continue to amaze me Poppy. I’m glad we both get to live our dreams. 

You 8:32 PM: ❤️

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

August 12, 2019

You 7:52 AM: I’m freaking out, what if I can’t do this Jake

Jake 8:00 AM: what?

You 8:01 AM: It’s my first day of classes at UofM

Jake 8:02 AM: Do you think I wasn’t petrified the first time I stepped onto a real stage? I know you can do this P. If I can do that, you can do this. You can do anything. 

You 8:03 AM: Thanks Jake

Jake 8:05 AM: Call me later and let me know how it went. We are on break for the next week so I’m free whenever. 

November 10, 2019

You 3:47 PM:  Jake! You’re so sweet. Gorgeous flowers, but I have to know how you got my new address?  

Jake 3:50 PM: Don’t worry about that, I have my ways. Happy Birthday my girl. I’ll call soon. 

University of Michigan Law School - Ann Arbor, Michigan

May 18, 2020

You can faintly hear a persistent buzzing, the sound pulling you from your sleep. You realize it’s your phone buzzing away on your nightstand with an incoming call. You roll over, reaching for it in the darkness of the room, noticing the time on your alarm clock says 2:47 AM. You wipe the sleep from your eyes as they adjust to the harsh light of your phone, but that's not what really wakes you. It’s the name on the screen that has you sitting up straight in your bed. 

“Jake?” you breathe, sliding your thumb against the glass. “Hello?” you answer groggily. 

“Poppy…” he replies, his voice deep and gravely. 

“Jake, what's wrong, is everything okay? It's like 2:30 in the morning?” you rush out, your heart starting to pound. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby doll,” he answers, “I just…I needed to hear your voice.”

You can hear the slurring in his words and you know he's had too much to drink. That, and he hasn’t called you that pet name in years, “What’s going on, Jake? You don’t sound okay.”

He’s silent for a moment, seemingly gathering the right words to say, “‘M fine, Pops. It’s just been a bad day. Hell, it’s been a bad week. A bad month. Everything is fucking exploding in our faces.”

“What do you mean?” you ask nervously, clutching your sheets in your fist.

He lets out a deep sigh, “God, everythings just falling apart. With the album, with tour–” he cuts himself off. There’s another pause before he speaks again. “It’s just all such a mess and I miss you, Pops. I miss you so damn much. I don’t know if I can do all of this.”

“What? What do you mean? Is it because of all this Covid stuff?” you ask.

“That, and so many other things. We had all these plans to release the new album and tour and then everything came to a screeching halt. We’re essentially in lockdown now, and I don't know when we will start up again. I can’t just sit, Pops, you know that. I just can’t,” he sighs heavily. “But it’s not just that,” he pauses for a moment, his words becoming a little more slurred, “There’s a million things, and I know I sound so whiny, but–”

“No, go ahead, get it all out. Tell me. I'm here. I'm listening.”

“I don't even know how to put it all into words. There’s just so much. The pressure, the uncertainty, the loneliness of it all, the shit with the label, my parents calling all the time asking what's going on, Josh bitching everytime something doesn’t go his way. Nothing is going right,” he pauses, “and you're not here.”

“I know. I know I'm not, but I think I understand a little bit at least. All my classes are virtual right now, finals and everything. It’s not how I ever imagined Law School going.  I don't think I have left my apartment in weeks. I haven’t talked to a real person in a while. It's scary and everything is uncertain right now. I get it Jake. I do, and I miss you. I miss you so much.” you answer.

“Yeah, exactly,” he sighs, “I just feel like– everything is going wrong and falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it. I just want…I want you,” he pauses, “I want you here. Things would be better if you were here. You would know what to do.”

“Well, where are you? Are you…at home or–”

“I’m locked in this fucking house in Nashville. Feel like a fuckin’ prisoner. All I can do is play guitar and write and drink,  and– I just need out.” he groans. 

“Nashville...You–You live in Nashville now? In a house? I had no idea you guys left Michigan.”  you say a little despondently.

“See, this is exactly what I mean. I want you to know these things. You deserve to know. I– I should’ve called. But, yeah, we got a place last year. Me and Josh. It made sense with us starting to record and touring, being centrally located and all that. But it’s not my permanent home. This is not what I want.” he adds hastily.

“Yeah, I understand, that makes sense, I just didn't know,” you pause, “I wish- I mean, how far are you from Ann Arbor? You know you can always come visit for a while. I’ll be busy with school work but at least we could…” you trail off. 

“I’d say maybe…six hours, give or take,” he answers, and his mind starts to wander a little. “I wish I could just hop in the car and come to you. I miss your face. Just you, in general,” he says, the drunken honesty coming through. “But the label has us on fucking lockdown. Can’t leave the city even if we wanted to.”

“Oh. Okay. I understand.” you answer, pain coloring your tone. 

He picks up on your change in tone, his voice growing a bit more sober, “Shit, no, P. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t want you to feel like I wouldn’t just drop everything and come to you right now, you gotta believe me. I wish I could. I’d  leave now and be there by morning.”

“No, Jake it’s fine, I get it. I was just daydreaming.” you answer, swallowing thickly.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I feel like everything has just been too much and I just wanted to hear your voice. But I shouldn’t have called you like this, I know you’ve got a lot of stuff going on with school right now. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my bullshit.” he says, his voice sounding just as pained as yours. 

“Never apologize for that Jake. That’s what I’m here for. I want to know, and I know you would do the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

“I’d do anything for you, Y/N. You know that I would,” he responds, his words almost a whisper now. You can still hear the buzz of alcohol in his voice, but now it’s only a slight slur instead of drunken rambling. “You were always my person. My safe place.”

“And you’re mine,” you whisper. 

You can hear him sigh heavily on the other line, and the two of you let a comfortable silence fall over the line. You’re both lost in your thoughts, just content to hear the other breathe. He finally breaks the silence, his voice quiet and hoarse, “When I get out of this hell hole, I’m coming to find you. I need to see you again. It can’t be another year without you.”

“You know where to find me,” you grin. 

“Yeah, I do,” he says. He’s silent for a moment, just listening to you breathe. “I should let you get some sleep. You got school and work and… life to deal with tomorrow, huh?”

“Sadly, yes. But, I– enjoyed this. I’ve missed your voice. It’s nice to lay here with my eyes closed and pretend like it's old times.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, “This was good. I feel better now, I really do. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. We’ve got a lot to catch up on…and I’m sorry I had to be drunk to find the balls to call you.” he giggles. “Can I call you again sometime soon? Preferably when I’m a little more sober?”

“Please do,” you answer with a laugh. 

He laughs softly along with you, the sound of his laugh is familiar yet different after all this time, “Okay, I’ll call you soon then. I promise. Goodnight, my  Pops.”

“Goodnight, Jake.”

Detroit, Michigan

March 13, 2022

 

“And send,” you whisper to yourself, finally leaning back in your office chair as the email flies into the ether. You let out a deep exhale, checking the time. Only one more hour before you leave for the day. You take in your surroundings, seeing your colleagues still busy and working away on case files and reports. It wasn’t easy landing this job and it has been taxing to say the least, but in a few years you would be up for partner and you would do anything to make your dream a reality. Today though, you were leaving a little earlier than usual. You had plans tonight, plans you weren’t one hundred percent sure you should follow through with, but it had been years after all, and part of you is dying to see him. Jake. 

You’d been following along with the band's success for years now, watching them grow to crazy levels of fame in such a short amount of time. You think back to the night Jake called you, so worried about the new album, and now it was their most successful release to date. It truly was incredible and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see them play it live. And tonight, you would. 

When you saw that they had plans to play in Saginaw you knew you had to make the drive. You requested the time off and now today was the day. Your heart has been in your throat all day waiting for it to drop to your stomach the moment you see him on stage tonight. It only took a few messages with Karen to find out that you had standing tickets waiting for you. Stating that ‘Jake wouldn’t have it any other way’. You could tell she missed him, missed all her boys actually, and you knew the pain all too well.

You knew he would look different, from the pictures you’d seen you could tell his hair was longer, and his boyish figure was now that of a man. But he wasn't the only one, all of the guys' looks had changed dramatically, and part of you felt like you hardly knew them anymore. You had no plans of telling Jake that you would be there tonight, you wanted to see him play a good show without the burden of knowing you were out in the crowd watching. You have your outfit picked out and waiting for you on your bed, knowing you only had a few quick minutes to change and get on the road when you clocked out at the office for the day. Now, all there was left to do was wait. 

The traffic couldn’t have been worse. The freeway was congested with an accident and roadwork, and as your hands gripped the steering wheel  you began to feel nervous that you might not make it in time. You pushed away the nervous feeling, turning up the volume of the music playing through your car speakers. You’d done your research, listening to the new album a hundred times over, and tonight you’d put that knowledge to the test as you tried your best to sing along with every song they would play. As you sang along now, you let go of your stress and relaxed into the music, watching as miraculously the road cleared in front of you and you continued on your way to Saginaw. 

With your ticket in hand you searched for your seat in the crowd, finding yourself surrounded by familiar faces. Faces you hadn’t seen since you left home. It felt like a big reunion in section 102, and you couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face if you tried. When you finally found your seat you looked up to see Karen sitting a seat away, turning to face you as you sat down next to her. 

“Oh honey, you made it,” she cooed, pulling you in for a hug. 

“Yeah, yeah I did! Got stuck in some terrible traffic leaving Detroit, I didn’t know if I was going to make it on time.” you answer, waving hello to a few other friendly faces around you. 

“I am so glad you’re here, I haven’t seen you in years! You really should come home and see everyone soon. We all miss you!” she says, with a soft smile, “I’m glad he sat you with us. Right where you should be.”

You give her a confused look and she laughs. 

“Look around, you’re in the family section,” she pauses, and suddenly you realize shes right. “I can’t wait to see them play tonight, it’s been a year or so.”

“Well I guess I should confess that I haven't seen them since their first little tour. I think they were openers. It was back in college.”

“Oh well, you’re in for a surprise then. They are just fantastic now, they’ve really stepped it up since then. Oh, Jake is going to be so happy to see you.” she gushes. 

“I actually didn’t tell him I was coming,” you pause, “we haven’t talked in a little while. He’s been busy touring and I’m working at a firm now. Life hasn’t been the best to our friendship.” you confess. 

“Oh honey I hate to hear that. You’ll have to come with me after the show to see everybody. I’m sure they would all love to say hello.” she offers. 

“Like backstage? I don’t know. Maybe. I–”

“No excuses, we’re going.” she smiles, just as the lights dim and music begins to play through the arena. 

Your heart is positively thumping in your chest as you hear what you believe to be Josh’s voice as he talks over a piece of music. You feel your insides grow warm as he talks, your eyes filling with tears as you listen to the beautiful words he's crafted. The crowd explodes in cheers full of anticipation as the arena goes black and the curtain covering the stage begins to flash with red lights. 

You’re scared of what you will see when the curtain drops. Scared of the changes you’ll see in their faces, the changes you’ll notice in their playing, but mostly you’re scared that he may not recognize you if he does see you, because that would crush you. 

Suddenly the curtain falls down to the ground as loud music begins to fill the arena. Your eyes are immediately on Jake, his long dark hair and his two piece suit. He looks so amazing you feel like you could fall to your knees right here in the stands. But then, he spots you, and for that few seconds it’s just the two of you there in that arena. 

 A wave of shock sets in as soon as his eyes land on you. For a brief moment you can hardly believe that it’s real, that you’re  seeing him  in person and not just in the memories that haunt you during the dark hours of night. But there he is, living his dream right in front of your very eyes. 

He stands in front of the crowd, guitar in hand. The bright spotlight is so white it almost hurts your eyes, but once your vision adjusts you’re struck by the sight of him. He’s slightly sweaty and disheveled, his jacket open  and hair already sweaty and messy. He’s never looked more handsome than he does standing on that stage. He stands still for a moment, the shock of seeing you here has shaken him to the core, that is obvious to you. But he quickly shakes it off, and continues with the show, playing for the crowd that is screaming his name.

By the third song you are having to pick your jaw up off the floor. The way he is working the crowd is a vast difference from the last time you watched him play, still shy and unsure of himself on stage. He’s got a presence to him now, a confidence that you don’t remember seeing when you first watched him play years before. It shows in the way he moves on the stage, in the way he plays to the crowd, and in the way he works the guitar like it’s an extension of himself. He plays his heart out for the next hour, his movements smooth and precise. Jake is in his element just like he always knew he would be. 

The encore is upon you, and you can’t wait for him to be back on stage. Finally, he bounds up to the stage again, his energy and excitement at an all time high. You can tell he’s having the time of his life, the lights and cheers making him feel like he could fly. Josh is right behind him, grabbing the microphone and beginning to speak. “Thank you all for an incredible night,” he yells to the crowd, “But we’re not done yet. How about another one?” The room fills with loud cheers again. Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest as Jake turns his body to look at you, pointing his guitar in your direction as he acknowledges you. Your cheeks are on fire as he sends you a smile, Karen grabbing your arm as she watches the interaction. 

“Told you he’d be happy to see you,” she shouts over the music. 

You feel overwhelmed with emotion and excitement; not just by the fact that he spotted you in this giant crowd, but also by the fact that he is so clearly expressing a level of happiness because you’re here right now. The connection you feel to him is unlike anything you’ve felt in a long time.

He finishes the show with his heart on his sleeve. It ends on an incredibly high note, and he takes one last bow to the crowd as they start to leave. He starts walking off the stage, Josh in tow and you realize that now, you will go backstage with Karen and you’ll  have to face him. 

“Alright honey, you up for saying hello?” she asks, both of you making your way out of the aisle and towards the floor. 

Your body is shaking with nerves as you answer her, “Yeah, I should. It’s been too long.”

You and Karen make your way to the back where the band is waiting, still a little winded from the show. A few roadies are already packing up the stage equipment, and the crew is helping to dismantle the set. There is so much going on behind the scenes that you had no clue about. So many moving parts and pieces. 

Karen ushers you back towards the dressing rooms, each of the guys having their own space to dress and prepare. When did they get so fancy?

“Okay, Jake should be right through there, I’m going to go find Josh. Come find me if you need anything.” she says, leaving you at his dressing room door. 

Your hands are shaking, you’re unsure if you’ll even be able to raise your hand to knock. You smooth out your skirt and take a deep breath, fixing your hair a little as you try to calm your nerves. It’s Jake. It’s just Jake. 

Finally getting over the shock and nervousness, you knock softly on the door. You hear shuffling behind the door and your heart starts to pound in your ears. You hear him call out through the door, “Just a minute.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as you hear his voice through the door. It sounds like he’s just getting out of the shower, and with a towel wrapped around his waist he opens the door. The shock on his face is undeniable as he sees you standing there. He was expecting anything but you. “Pops,” he whispers, saying your name as if he were trying to convince himself that you were real.

“H-hi Jake,” you stammer, your nerves making themselves known. 

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at you in disbelief. He’s still dripping wet from the shower, beads of water running down his bare chest. His face relaxes and a familiar softness sets in, a soft smile crossing his face. “You’re really here.” His gaze roams over your body, drinking in every inch.  

“Yeah, I'm here. You were–you were so amazing, I–”

It’s as if the sound of your voice brings a wave of peace over him, and before you know it he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his body still damp from the shower. He pulls you against him, your body pressed to his bare chest. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath on  your skin as he holds you. “I’m so fucking happy to see you,” he murmurs. 

You hug him back, feeling all the guilt and nerves melt away from you, in a way that only he can manage. You can feel the water starting to seep through your clothes, and you pull away, looking between you with a smile. “You're wet, and naked,” you laugh. 

He blushes at your words, suddenly remembering that he’s still just wrapped in a towel. “Shit,” he says, feeling an unusual shyness that he usually doesn’t feel around you. He steps back to the side of the door, holding it open for you to enter as he gives you a nervous smile. “Come in, just give me a sec and I'll change.”

“I can wait out here if you want, I know that we–”

“No, come in Pops. Please,” he says firmly, the towel still wrapped around him. It’s still hard to take your eyes off of his bare chest, but you walk into the room, trying to keep your focus on anything but him, not wanting to stare too long. 

You watch as he saunters across the room, his long brown hair down to the middle of his back now, and dripping with water. You swallow harshly as your eyes travel over the curve of his ass in the towel, but you pull your eyes away before he turns around. He grabs a bag and slips into the bathroom, pushing the door shut behind him. You can hear a nasty cough come from behind the door and you furrow your brows. Is he sick?

You stand there by the couch, suddenly noticing the small bottle of cough syrup sitting at the edge of the side table. A few moments later, he emerges from the bathroom, dressed in worn jeans and a clean white t-shirt. He sits down on the couch and he lets out another few coughs, trying to clear his throat as he looks up at you. “Sit down,” he says, gesturing towards the spot next to him on the couch. 

You take a seat next to him, and let out a soft breath. “Are you feeling okay?” you ask. 

The cough is still in his throat, but he nods. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have this damn cough that I can’t seem to shake.” He looks you up and down, finally being able to observe you as closely as he wants to since you showed up at the venue. “You look great,” he says, a warm smile on his lips. 

You blush at his words, your eyes meeting his. The one thing about him that’s stayed the same over the years. “Thank you,” you say shyly. 

His smile turns into a grin, the same boyish smile that you’ve always loved. “Of course.” He lets his gaze linger on your face, drinking you in as if he’s trying to memorize every little detail. He’s unable to keep his hands to himself, and before you know it he’s reached towards you. His fingers wrap around your wrist, and he gently pulls your arm towards him.

The feeling of his skin against yours causes the dam to break, “Jake, I–”

He doesn’t let go as he lets both of your hands rest in his lap. That same electricity that used to pass between you is there, and you can tell that the connection you’ve always had is as strong as ever despite the distance. He speaks softly, knowing how heavy the air between you two is. “I know.”

“No, please I–” you start, but you’re quickly cut off as the dressing room door flies open and a blonde woman, around the same age as you steps inside. 

The sudden intrusion is like a bucket of ice water, and you pull your hands away from him as if you’ve been caught doing something wrong. He looks back at you, his expression soft and apologetic before he looks up at the new presence in the room. You look over at Jake, expecting to see some kind of reaction from him, but he actually just looks mildly annoyed.

“Hey, Viv,” he answers, turning his body to face her. She looks between the two of you, an expression on her face you can’t quite decipher.

She gives him a small smile, and she doesn’t even glance in your direction as she walks into the room. You try to stay as small as possible, as if trying not to be seen. She crosses her arms as she stands on the other side of the room. “How did the show go?” she asks, her voice is casual and unbothered. You suddenly feel like you shouldn’t be here. 

“Was fine, got a little winded and lightheaded by encore,” he answers and she nods her head. 

“Well, the crowd was big tonight and it got hot, plus all the lights. That'd make anybody winded,” she says, still keeping her focus on him. You sit there, feeling slightly uncomfortable, wondering why she seems so comfortable in his space. She starts to dig around in the bag on her shoulder and you turn to look at Jake. 

The whole situation feels weird, and you don't understand why she is just standing there, going through her purse, while you and Jake sit there. His eyes flick over to you and you can see slight annoyance in them as he looks back at her.

Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. She’s not just some stranger. She’s here with Jake. For Jake. Oh god how could you be so stupid. Of course he’s seeing someone. You quickly shoot up, grabbing your bag and tossing it over your shoulder as quickly as you can, feeling so stupid to think tonight would be the night you’d work things out. She’s waiting for you to leave. 

Jake’s eyes go wide as he sees what you’re doing, “Wait, no, Pops, where are you going?” He stands up from the couch, reaching his hand out to grab your arm but you pull away from him.

“I’m sorry– I didn’t know. I– You were amazing tonight, I’m sorry I–I didn’t know you— I’ll go–” you stammer, making your way to the door.  

Jake practically lunges across the room, reaching the door at the same time you do. He turns you around to face him, the panic in his eyes apparent. “No, don’t go, let me explain–”

“No, no, you don’t have to. I understand. I shouldn’t have come back here. I don’t belong back here. I’m sorry,” you mumble pushing your way through the heavy wooden door.

“Poppy!” you hear him shout, his voice echoing through the busy hallway as you search for the nearest exit. You don’t turn around. You refuse to look back and let him see you like this. Your heart is absolutely more crushed than it ever has been, but you should have expected it. He is a rockstar and you’re…just Y/N.

He moved on, he found someone else to confide in. Someone that matches him. Someone else to trust with his secrets. Someone else to think of day and night, and finally you understand how he felt that night so long ago. Replaced. 

You hear his voice fade as you walk out of the venue, leaving your heart behind you in a single, devastating moment. The warm night is replaced by a cold breeze as you step out, the tears falling down your face as you realize the past was just that. The past.

Frankenmuth, Michigan

December 31, 2022

The air is frigid outside, you’re sure this is the coldest winter you’ve ever experienced, even growing up here. There aren’t enough layers in the world, let alone in your suitcase. Thankfully in just two days you will be back home in Detroit where it's not too much warmer, but definitely not as cold as Frankenmuth. You’ve been home for the last two weeks visiting your parents, not seeing them nearly enough since you started at the law firm after graduation. It’s been nice to be home, but something about it feels different now. You are riddled with nostalgia and the memories seem to come back with a vengeance the longer you’re here. Memories you have all but pushed away lately, not letting them into your heart as you once did. Currently you and your parents are sitting in front of the fireplace sipping on wine as you watch the Rockin’ New Year’s Eve special on TV. The wine is warming you up a bit, but not nearly enough. 

You’ve now brushed off dozens of invites from co-workers and even some old friends who are out on the town tonight, celebrating ringing in the new year. You know you should go, but something is telling you not to. Even your parents asked why you’re spending the evening at home instead of seeing old friends. You wish you had a good answer for them, but you don't.

“You really should go, honey,” your mom continues, finishing off her glass of red. “You’re only young once.”

“I know, but I just…I feel so disconnected from this place. I haven’t talked to these people since highschool,” you pause, “I just feel like I’m better off here.”

“I agree with your mother, hon,” your dad adds, “It will be good for you to get out. All you do is work these days. You deserve a night off.”

You let their words sink in as you look at your phone, seeing the ignored text from your old friend Isabelle begging you to meet her at Tiffany’s for a drink. Honestly, the thought of stepping into that bar again rattles you. 

“Just one drink hon, ring in the new year,” your dad says, sending you an encouraging wink. 

You look at her text again and let out a sigh, “Alright, fine. Maybe you’re right. It would be okay to let loose just a little. Tonight of all nights.”

“Thatta girl,” he says, nodding his head. 

With the decision made you text Isabelle back, letting her know you will meet her there in thirty as you rush upstairs to change into something that isn't sweatpants and a hoodie.

 It’s an eerie feeling walking into this bar, a place you used to frequent so often, so long ago. It’s been years since you've been back but it's exactly the same as you left it. The dining patrons are long gone, making way for the locals that use the bartop as their own personal therapy space, but tonight it’s a little different. It’s New Year's Eve and the bar is filled with unfamiliar faces. Of course, there are a few you recognize from high school, that much you expected. The air in the bar is much warmer than the air outside, thanks to the large group of people filling the small space. The lights are dim and music is playing from the old jukebox in the corner. The floor is already sticky from spilled drinks, and the air smells faintly of cigarettes. 

“I’m gonna grab a drink, what do you want?” Isabelle asks, snaking her way through a group of people. 

“Whatever you’re having is fine,” you answer, knowing it doesn't really matter. 

She disappears into the crowd and you look around in search of a table you can ditch your jacket at. Most are taken, but you spot one in a corner with no occupants. You walk briskly towards it, throwing your jacket down onto the inevitably sticky table top as you sit and wait for Isabelle. You let your eyes wander through the bar picking out familiar faces, and even taking in some new ones, but you can’t seem to shake the feeling of uneasiness you’ve had since you walked through the door. Something is different, you just don’t know what. 

A few minutes later a drink is placed in front of you that looks to be a whiskey and coke, and you secretly cheer that it's not something overly sweet. 

“Made them a double cause the lines’ a bitch,” she says, taking her first gulp.

“Good call,” you smile, taking your own sip and letting the bubbles burn the back of your throat. Maybe your dad was right. You did need this. You and Isabelle sit and talk for a little while, letting the alcohol seep into your system and cast away your cares. But then you hear something. Something you haven’t heard in a long time. A song from long ago that has made a permanent home in your memories. 

Through the crappy speakers you hear the opening notes to “Good Lovin’ Gone Bad” by Bad Company. You smile to yourself, thinking back on just how many times Jake played that album that summer. You both had practically every single lyric memorized by the time you left for college. A pang shoots through your chest as you picture him in your mind, and your mood suddenly sours. 

“Hey, I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick,” you pause, “Save our table?”

“Duh, see you in a few,” she says, taking another gulp of her drink. 

You begin to make your way to the bathroom, needing a minute to yourself to freshen up and get Jake out of your head. You finally make your way to the opposite side of the bar, the bathrooms in your sight. But much to your surprise, something else oddly familiar catches your eye and your heart lurches up to your throat. No. It can’t be. 

His back is towards you, but you would recognize his shoulders and hair anywhere. You spot him with a group of guys, all drinking and having a good time. A wave of nostalgia hits hard, remembering how things were back in the day before you both went your separate ways and he shot to stardom. The way you could walk up to him without second guessing it. Now you’re not so sure you can. 

You try to turn around and walk away, knowing it's best to just go, but something has you frozen to the floor. You can see the way he holds the crowd at the bar, telling stories and cracking jokes in the same way he did at parties back in high school. He's a star in every sense of the word, but when the laughter fades for a second, you can almost see the sadness underneath it all. 

He doesn’t notice you, at least you think he doesn’t, as you push forward and rush into the bathroom. Your heart is pumping harder than it has in months and you feel like you might be sick. There is no way you are going to be able to get out of this bar without talking to him, so you decide you need to pull it together and pretend like he isn’t even here. 

You fix your make up, and smooth down your hair, taking a good long look in the mirror. You’ve got this. It’s just Jake. You take a few deep breaths and square your shoulders, preparing to face him and any uncomfortable conversation that may follow. You open the door and walk out into the bar, looking around as you do. You don't see him at the bar he was at before and for a split second your brain doesn't register that fact at all, but as you make your way out to the dance floor you look a few tables over and realize he is standing there, with his hands in his pockets watching you with the same intensity you’ve always seen from him.  

He looks so handsome and he doesn’t even know it. His long brown hair hanging over his shoulders, his corduroy shirt hanging open and messy over his t-shirt. He is exactly the Jake you’ve always known. The Jake you always wanted. There’s a mustache, too, you notice. The accent of hair, complimenting his upper lip in a way that has your entire chest heating. It’s the perfect touch to his pretty face, adding a masculine touch that you hadn’t known was necessary for his overall aura until this moment. 

Because god did he look impossibly more alluring with that addition. 

You know it’s only a matter of time before you two speak, and you have no idea what he is thinking. But for once, Jake doesn’t hide his feelings from you, his eyes are glued to you, refusing to look away. Willing you to come to him, and your body listens. 

You walk towards him, each step feeling heavier than the last, as if you're walking through quicksand. Your eyes stay locked on his face despite the nervousness running through your veins, and you can feel the electricity pouring off of him. He looks like he wants to say something, but he just stares at you. You can feel the memories of you together crashing through your head like a wave. You get closer and closer, the world around you fading away, until you’re standing right in front of him.

“It was you, wasn’t it. The song,” you ask, putting the pieces together immediately. “You knew I was here. You knew I would recognize it.”

His jaw clenches in response, and he lets a sad smile touch his lips before he says anything. “Yeah, it was. I saw you walk in. I knew it’d work,” he replies, the familiar rasp in his voice is softer than you remember, but still as deep and soothing as ever.

“Guess you were right,”  you smirk, watching as his body language starts to soften.

He lets a soft chuckle escape, and he relaxes a little bit. You can see the tension melting away from his shoulders. “Some things never change, huh?” he says, his eyes roaming over your face and body briefly, taking in every detail he can. 

“I didn’t know you were home,” you confess.

“I didn’t know you were home.” he says gently, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He looks down for a moment, as if he’s trying to find the right words. “I should’ve told you.”

You nod your head, “I could’ve called you too,” you pause, biting your lip, “It’s just ever since that night–”

“That night was not what you think. I wish you would’ve let me explain, Pops.” he urges, his hand reaching out to rest on your arm. 

“It's- It's the past now Jake, you don't owe me anything,” you answer, the nickname searing a sore spot in your heart. 

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You know exactly what I owe you. But I’m not going to talk to you about this in a bar, surrounded by all these people,” he drops his hand from your arm, running it through his hair instead. “Come with me, please.”

You look around for Isabelle, but of course she is nowhere to be found, “Okay.”

He leads you out the back door of the bar, into the cool winter air. He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and grabs one, placing it between his teeth before lighting it just as quickly. He looks over at you for a moment, watching as you rub your arms to keep warm. “You’re cold,” he observes, noticing the goosebumps on your exposed skin.

“My jacket is inside,” you answer.

He shrugs off his corduroy shirt, draping it over your shoulders, before pulling you in a bit closer to him. The smell of tobacco and his cologne overwhelm your senses as he presses against your side. The heat radiating off of him is warm, and you instinctively bring the shirt closer around you, breathing in the familiar smell of him.

“Listen, Pops,” he pauses, taking another drag of his cigarette, “I’ve wanted to call you a hundred times since that night, explain what you think you saw…” 

It hurts you to know he's thought about it too. “So why didn't you?”

“I was scared,” he admits bluntly, a cloud of smoke escaping his lips as he does. “You are the last person that I ever wanted to hurt, believe me. But you didn’t even let me get a word in. You left and just…” he sighs. “I didn’t know what the hell to do with myself. Still don’t. I think we are here right now in this shitty ass bar because the universe decided it was time for us to figure this shit out.”

“Maybe it is,” you agree. 

He lets out a long exhale of smoke, his breath visible in the cold air. “You’ve always been smarter than me,” he says, throwing his cigarette to the ground and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know where to start, but I need you to hear me out here.”

“I'm listening,” you answer. 

He paces to the edge of the sidewalk, running a nervous hand through his hair as he tries to compose himself. He takes a deep breath before he speaks again. “I know you think you know what you saw that night, but it wasn’t… That woman, Viv– Vivienne, she is our Tour Medic. Like our travel doctor. A few days before that show…I’d been sick. I didn’t want to admit it then, but I will now. I was sick, too sick. I shouldn’t have been performing. We needed to cancel those shows. I hid it the best I could, and I shouldn’t have and it made it all worse,” he pauses. “That night she came in to check on me after the show. I’d avoided her as long as I could and I think she just knew. She was coming to tell me that she was taking me to the hospital for my cough. She and I both knew it wasn’t normal and my time was up.”

“I– Yeah, I remember…I asked you…”

“I know. I know you did. Even you knew. I was going to tell you… But then, you– I don’t know you just freaked on me, and left. I wanted to explain but I wasn’t ready to admit what was going on.” he pauses, his lips trembling from the cold. “I went to the hospital that night and found out I had pneumonia. Bad. I– I was there for three days. I laid in that hospital bed and replayed you running out over and over again, Poppy. I wanted to call you and tell you but I just couldn’t. I was drained mentally and physically.”

“Jake, oh my god– I– I feel so stupid– I’m so sorry–”

“No, Pops, it’s not your fault. I know how it looked. I was just being too selfish to tell the truth.” he admits. “But now, you know.”

“You were in the hospital, Jake. I had no idea, I–We used to tell each other everything…What if something happened to you and I–” you trail off. 

His body tenses at your words, and his expression morphs into a mixture of guilt and regret. “No, you’re right,” he says, defeated. “I was just…ashamed, I guess, that my body was failing me. It was such a low point…But I shouldn’t have let you walk out like that. I should have chased after you.” He looks back over at you, your face illuminated by the glowing neon bar signs and slowly he brings his hand to cup your cheek. “I can’t believe I let you go.”

Suddenly you hear the inside of the bar erupt with cheering and the loud countdown starting. “It’s almost midnight,” you whisper. 

He looks back at the bar, then back at you, “I guess it is. I didn’t even realize it.” He says, his eyes glued to your face. The countdown gets closer and closer, and you can tell he is nervous. He looks almost afraid as he continues to talk. “I’ve really missed you, Y/N. I’ve thought about you so many times over these past few years, and it feels like no time has passed, but everything has changed,” he pauses, “I wish things could go back to the way it was.”

The world feels so still in this moment, even with all the ruckus inside the bar. “Ten seconds,” you note, eyes glued to his face as his warm hand rests on your cheek. He steps forward, his body so close to yours that you feel as though you’ll become one in this moment. The cold forgotten, his body almost feverish beside you. He runs his thumb across your cheek, his eyes glued to yours as the countdown gets lower and lower.

“Jake,” you whisper, your voice trembling with want. 

He takes another step closer, his body inches apart from yours, and his lips only a breath away from yours “Poppy,” he whispers, his hot, shaky breath caressing your skin as he does. “I need you.”

“Three, two, one…”

Everyone in the bar cheers all around you. He’s so close now, you can hear the sharp inhales that are escaping his lips, and in the moments after the chaos of the New Year erupts, he closes the distance between the two of you. His lips are on yours in seconds, his hand pulling you in, his touch soft and needy.

The kiss is slow, it’s as if time has frozen in this sweet, tender moment. His hands slide into your hair, bringing your face to his, wanting all of you. The kiss is quickly growing desperate and needy. He pushes you against the brick wall of the building, his body pressing into yours, your heart racing as his hand moves from your hair to your waist. He gently lifts your leg pulling it around his waist as this kiss of reunion deepens even more. It’s  filled with emotion and years of wanting, and your body is filled with an overwhelming sense of electricity.

He kisses you with everything he's got. His body craving your touch for so long. He pulls your body against his, wanting to feel every inch of you that he can. He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth effortlessly, as if he’s memorized every curve, every crevice. You feel your stomach churning with need for him. The need for more.

You bring your hands up to wrap around his shoulders, the kiss getting deeper and more desperate with each passing moment. His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you tighter against his body, as if he can’t stand to have you away from him for even a second. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and he lets out a low moan, his need for you stronger than ever. It’s as if no time has passed at all. Suddenly you’re right back in his basement kissing him for the first time. 

You break the kiss, his name falling from your lips as your eyes open to meet his. “Jake...”

“P-Pops,” he stutters, struggling to find the words through his ragged breaths. “Fuck, I never should’ve let you go. It’s you, it’s always been you.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his grip on you just as tight, if not tighter. “You– You just light a fire in me that everyone else seems to put out.”

You let your lips press a soft kiss to the side of his jaw before moving to his ear, “I’ll always be the one with a match to bring you back.”

“Goddamnit, Poppy,” His eyes flutter shut, and you can see that the sensation of your lips on his skin has driven him towards a bliss he hadn't experienced in a long, long time. The way your body fits against his is as natural now as it's ever been. It's as if you were molded to fit in his arms– as if nothing else in the world could ever feel as perfect as this. “I never want to let you go. I'm so goddamn sick of letting you go,” he whispers.

The desire is growing between your legs, and you can feel the evidence of his pressed against your stomach. Instinctively you rub against him, causing a growl to leave his chest. You’re no longer eighteen in the basement. You’re adults who need more. 

He moves his body against yours, a low moan rising from his throat as he does. It’s as if he can feel the fire he’s lit up inside of you, and he’s desperate to fan the flames of the inferno that has always been there. “I’ve missed you so damn much,” he gasps, his hands starting to roam over your body. “Say you feel this. Say you feel it too.”

“I've always felt it Jake. Always.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses, before sinking his teeth in gently. His hands are everywhere, as if he can't decide where he wants to touch first. He presses himself against you, his body flushed with need. “I want you,” he whispers, his words hot against your skin.

“I want you.” you pant, arching your neck to give him more. 

He takes full advantage, his lips and teeth working their way up and down your neck, leaving a trail of marks in their wake. He can feel your need growing, and he responds to it with his own. He presses his body against yours with a primal force, his hand moving  to cup your face, bringing your lips back to his. The kiss is hungry and needy, his tongue slipping into your mouth, searching for what he has been missing as his free hand  finds the waistband of your jeans. 

His hand begins to make a slow descent into your jeans, his rough fingertips sliding against your soft delicate skin. They brush the hem of your panties as his tongue continues to memorize yours. Your heart is pounding, your body aching for his touch where you need it most as the sound of “Auld Lang Syne” and distant fireworks boom around you. 

A soft sound of need escapes from the back of your throat, the anticipation of his touch building an excruciating ache between your thighs. He uses his thumb to brush against the front of your panties, teasing you, as he breaks the kiss to whisper against your skin. “Do you know how badly I want you?” he asks, his voice low and rough, before returning to your neck and biting down softly. 

You nod against him, still breathing harder than ever. He takes his time, his fingers running a lazy path against your skin, and you feel the heat growing between your legs as his touch gets closer.

He lets his fingers graze over the thin lace material of your underwear, gently tracing up and down in an agonizingly careful manner. His lips break away from your neck and move instead to your ear, his teeth taking the lobe gently. “I’ve dreamed about you like this, every night since the last time we touched,” he whispers, his voice raspy and low. “I’ve ached to feel your skin on mine, your body trembling under my touch.”

You feel his fingers move lower and lower until the heat of his touch is coated in your desire for him. “Jake,” you whine, totally lost in this moment with him. 

His breath catches in his throat when he feels just how much you want him, and he lets out a low moan that makes your whole body tremble. “Fuck,” he whispers, his fingers tracing slow circles over your warm sensitive flesh. His lips find their way back to your neck, his hot breath fanning over your skin, making your spine tingle as you whine.

“Shhh,” he coo’s, silencing your whimpers with a soft kiss. He slips his fingers past the fabric, his touch growing more intense as he finally finds what he’s been craving this whole time. “So soft. So beautiful,” he gasps. He moves his hand in a gentle rhythm, his fingers slipping between your folds, finding your sweet spot effortlessly. You feel euphoric, and at complete mercy to his touch. “Can you feel me? Can you feel what you do to me?”

“Yes,” you whine, “I feel everything.”

His fingers move faster as they dip inside, trying to get as deep inside of you as he can, desperate to feel every inch of you. “I dreamed up a hundred different ways to make you fall apart in my arms,” he whispers, his eyes locking on yours, “and nothing comes close to reality. Come home with me, Pops. Stay with me.”

Just as you start to feel your release creeping closer, the bar door slams next to you, pulling you both from the moment. Your eyes snap to Jake’s and his to yours as he quickly realizes the compromising position you’re in, removing his hand from your jeans. 

He quickly steps back, straightening his shirt as you desperately try to regain your composure. You look around, hoping that whoever walked out of the bar doesn't look your way and catch you two in the state you were in. You're both panting, breaths ragged and desperate, and forced to ignore the needy ache that lingers between your legs.

It's as if a bucket of water has been dumped over your head, making you see clearly. Your eyes meet Jake's, his expression still waiting for you to answer his question. But as this rush of clarity takes hold of you, you realize exactly what you've done. 

Your eyes are glued to each other, but this now feels different. Everything feels different. It’s as if the air around you is suddenly thick with unspoken words, the gravity of the situation crashing down around you both. He’s just staring at you, his chest still heaving as he tries to slow his own breathing. He clears his throat, breaking the silence that hangs in the air. “Poppy…”

Your head begins shaking, “No, Jake, we– we can’t do this– we…”

You're at battle with your own mind, fighting for what you want versus what you know is right. 

His whole body goes rigid, the disappointment in your words written all over his face. He lets out a shaky breath, as if it physically pains him, “No– Don’t say that, we can, Poppy, please,” he begs softly.

“Jake we– we’re strangers. We know nothing about each other anymore. We– You’re a rockstar, you live in Nashville. I live in Detroit, I finally work for a firm. This is what we wanted. Isn’t it? This was our dream right? We can’t– You can’t…”

He swallows hard, trying to process what you’re telling him. You know you’re right, this is what you both wanted. He runs a nervous hand through his hair, his eyes looking for something to distract him from the crushing reality you just threw out in front of him.

“I know,” he whispers. He takes a deep breath, his mind and body still screaming to hold you. But the reality of it all is hitting you both like a train, and he’s trying desperately to keep his mind present in the moment. “I know all of that…I just–I don’t give a damn that I’m a rockstar, or that you live in Detroit,” he mutters, a defensive tone to his voice, “It’s you that’s missing, Pops. All day. All night. It’s you that’s in my head day in and day out. I want you. I always will. That is never going to change. We will never be strangers.”

Tears start to form in your eyes at his confession. You want to go with him. Run away and pretend nothing else matters. But it does, and you can’t. It can never be, no matter how badly you both want it.

His voice cracks, and he can feel the walls around his heart starting to crumble as he looks at you. He reaches out, taking your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “It’s always been you, Poppy. It will always be you,” he whispers, his hand continuing to graze over your skin as if he was trying to memorize every tiny detail. “So please, just– forget it all. Come home with me.”

Your lips begin to tremble, knowing that you’re about to break his heart. Again. “Jake… I can’t.” you say, letting a tear slip from your eye. 

You see the moment the weight of your words hits him, like a slow motion car crash that feels unavoidable. The look of complete defeat on his face makes you want to take it all back, tell him that you’re just as desperate as he is to throw everything aside. But you can’t. It’s just not possible. He lets his hands fall slowly from your face, and the space between your two bodies growing feels like your heart shattering all over again. “Okay.”

For some reason, that breaks you, your tears falling faster now as you see the pain in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” you breathe, leaning in to kiss him softly one last time. 

He returns your kiss with his own, gently taking your face in his palms. It’s as if he’s committing the feel of you to memory, the way he’s holding you, the way your lips fit so perfectly together. He doesn’t want to let go, and he holds the kiss as long as he can, until breathing becomes a desperate fight for air. When he finally does break the kiss, he whispers against your lips just loud enough for you to hear, “It’s still us, Pops.” and with that, he lets you go, leaving him there as small snow flurries begin to fall to the ground. 

With a heavy heart you finally make your way inside your childhood home, tossing your coat onto the couch. You collapse into your bed, letting the tears fall now that you’re alone in your solitude again. You can hear the snow falling harder now, tapping against your bedroom window.  You can still feel the faint remnants of his touch on your skin, his warmth lingering in your heart as you remember the taste of his lips. Jake. Your Jake. Yours for only minutes before you pushed him away. But you know it's for the best. 

You drag yourself up from the bed and change into your cozy pajamas, realizing you are still wearing Jake’s shirt. You bring it to your nose and breathe in his smell, sending you into a new round of tears. You put the shirt back on and crawl back into bed, needing to feel his presence close to you. You bring the neck of the shirt up, enveloping yourself in it like a blanket, your body still trembling with need.

It feels like it's been hours. You're exhausted, but your mind still won't put Jake to rest. There’s no escaping the fact that you're still just as hopelessly in love with him as you were the first time you met. As if he is thinking of you too, your phone buzzes next to your head, his name illuminating the screen with a text. 

Jake 1:42 AM: I keep thinking about what happened. I can still taste you on my lips. I know what you said, and I understand but I can’t let it be over, Pops. I just can’t.

Your heart shatters reading his message. You know how he feels because you feel the exact same way. You don’t even know what to say to him, so you just don’t. You lock your phone and put it back on your nightstand, turning off the lamp and attempting to sleep this terrible, beautiful night away. There is, however, an unbelievable thrum between your legs that you can’t seem to ignore. 

You toss and turn, trying so hard to sleep, but it’s pointless. The only thought going through your brain is of Jake. That deep need for him is building in intensity, your body wanting his touch desperately, your mind remembering every detail of the time you spent wrapped together against the building just an hour ago. You let your hand wander down beneath the sheets, your fingers pushing beneath the waistband of your pants.

He’s all you can think of. It’s as if the flood gates are now wide open, and you’re finally allowing yourself to let Jake occupy every space in your mind and body, and there is nothing else you need. You close your eyes, but all you can see is Jake’s face. His strong, handsome features, the way his lips form as he speaks…

With your eyes shut tight, you picture his body hovering over yours. The scent of him, his touch, the way his body felt against yours as he leaned into you. You let yourself fantasize about him being here with you, wanting you and only you. You imagine the way his lips felt all over your skin, the way he let his teeth graze over your neck and collarbone. The memory of it makes you shiver and your fingers work faster and faster, seeking the release you’ve craved for so long.

You feel like you’re right at the peak of surrendering to this imaginary version of him, when you hear your phone start to ring. Your eyes shoot open as you pull your hand from under your sheets. You reach for your phone but this time your brain is too hazy to think clearly. You see his name on the screen, along with a picture of him you set as his photo years ago. Against your better judgement you slide your thumb across the screen, needing to hear his voice. 

“Hello?” you breathe, your voice coming out as a breathy pant. 

His voice sounds soft and vulnerable, “Hey…” he breathes, sighing on the other end of the line, “I didn’t think you’d answer…I was just laying here, can’t sleep. I don’t know why I called, I just, I saw you read my text earlier and you didn’t answer– I don’t want this to be us. I never want that.”

“I know,” you pause, trying to even your breathing, “I'm sorry.”

“How can this be it?” his voice sounds strained now, the emotion in it pulling at your heart, “How is this the end? I can't make sense of it, all I can think about is you.”

Hearing his deep, gravely voice has your hand slipping back under the sheets, resuming its previous work. “I– I never said it was the end…”

“The way you walked away sure made it seem that way,” he says, and it breaks you in two. 

“It took everything I had Jake, you have to know that,” you say, your voice even more breathy than before and you know that you need to calm down before he takes notice, but the sound of his voice has your hand continuing to move. 

He notices the slight change in your tone, picking up on the way your breathing gets more shallow and more uneven, “Are…Are you okay? You sound…different. Where are you? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“I'm at home now. In my bed,” you pause, breathing into the phone, “Where are you?”

He lets out a shaky sigh into the phone. You know he’s figured it out, and if you know him like you think you do he isn’t going to change the subject. 

He wants nothing more than to be there, to hear every noise he could pull out of you, to feel every shiver and tremble as he worships every inch of your body. “I’m…I’m in my bed too. But I haven’t turned the light off yet.”

“Turn it off, Jake,” you breathe. 

Your self control is gone. You want this. No, you need this.

You can hear him inhale a sharp, stuttering breath, a quiet, breathy moan escaping him as he takes in your words. He knows what you’re asking for. He’s wanted it in some form for years. The phone jostles a few times before he says, “Done.”

You hum in response, continuing to run your fingers through your soaking wet folds. Something about the sound of his voice and the smell of his cologne wrapped around you has you soaking in this moment and throwing your cares to the wind. 

“Let me send an Uber, Poppy, please,” he manages to breathe, the desperation in his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Come to my hotel. I fucking hate not finishing what I start.”

“So finish it,” you tease. 

“God damn. Get in the Uber, Y/N.”

“No, no Uber. Just this. Just...talk to me Jake,” you whine.

His breath catches in his throat and he lets out a groan, the sound going straight to your core. You can hear him moving around in his bed, shifting to a more comfortable position, the sheets rustling as he does. You know he wants to touch himself, but he’s trying to resist. “I don’t know if I can just talk. Not knowing you’re…like that.” 

“For what it’s worth, you felt better,” you confess in an airy breath. 

“Fuck, Pops,” he groans, “You don’t even know how many times I’ve thought about you like that. I’d die to have you on my fingers again.”

“I want you,” you breathe, “But I know this is the only way I can have you.”

He is quiet for a bit, the only sounds you can hear from him are the heavy breaths he’s trying so hard to control. You’re picturing it all, imagining exactly what he looks like on the other end of the line.“You can have me,” he whispers, his voice low and rough, “I’m all yours, baby.”

“You've never been mine, Jake…”

“I’ve always been yours,” his words are spoken quickly, his voice almost a pleading whine. “I’ve always been yours. You’ve always been mine. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

His words sear through you, your fingers circling your clit faster now, causing a whine of pleasure to leave your chest. 

“Fucking hell, Poppy.” His voice comes through the phone, raw and ragged. “Are you…Is there a way…Can I see you at least?”

You think about it for a second, and you know the sight of him will send you straight to that sweet release you've been chasing all night. “Only if you join me…” you counter. 

“Do you think my hand isn’t already wrapped around my cock, listening to you whimper like that? Thinking about you touching yourself in all the ways I’ve dreamed of?”

“Show me, Jake.” you breathe. 

You quickly switch your phone to Facetime, your thumb hesitating over the call button. You know that there’s no coming back from this, but you can’t help yourself. You need to see him, and you’re not going to let your fear stop either of you from taking what you both want. “Answer the call.”

You press the button and watch as his face fills your screen, his chest heaving with each ragged breath he takes, his silver necklace laying against his body. He’s propped up against the headboard, his skin flushed with a light sheen of sweat that makes your body heat up even more. “You…” he whispers, “God, look at you. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Jake…” you moan his name, your hand moving faster and faster.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty. I can’t….I need…” he stops, unable to find the right words.

You stop suddenly, realizing that he can’t see that much of you. “Hold on,” you say, dropping your phone to the bed as you peel your shirt over your head, leaving your chest exposed. This will be the first time he’s seen you like this, but you feel more confident than ever. You prop your phone up on a pillow, allowing him the full visual of you. 

He sucks in a sharp breath as your shirt comes off, his eyes going wide as he stares at your bare chest, completely mesmerized by you. “Jesus Christ,” he whispers, his eyes glued to your body, “You are so perfect. It’s not even possible that someone is this perfect,” You watch his hand move, disappearing under the sheets and moving slowly down his body until he starts to move the sheets so you can watch. “I want you to see me, too.”

It’s dark but you watch as he props his phone up the same way, giving you the exact same view. His cock is hard and throbbing in his hand, bigger than you ever dreamed of, but exactly what you felt beneath his pants at the bar tonight. “Jake, I wish–”

“Say it,” he responds quickly, unable to wait another second to hear your words. He’s almost painfully hard right now, but he needs to hear it all. “Please say it, baby. Talk to me.”

The new pet name sends you spiraling, admitting things you would never admit in the light of day. “I want to feel you. I need to know how you would feel inside of me. I need you, Jake. All of you,” you whine, watching his hand stroke his cock a little faster. 

“Fuck, I’ve never wanted anything like I want that. I need you, too. I need to feel every single inch of your body. I need to do all the things I’ve dreamed about. You have no idea how many times I’ve laid here thinking of you. Wishing that I had you in my bed.” He stops his hand, trying to keep his mind together. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Anything,” you answer. 

He pauses for a moment, as if he’s afraid to give in to the moment completely. But his need for you is stronger than his common sense. “Take your panties off, but don't touch yourself again. Not until I tell you to. I want you to listen, I want you to feel this.”

You comply, sliding your panties over your legs and tossing them to the floor. He can see all of you now, your wetness glowing in the dim light of the phone. 

“You’re everything,” he moans softly, his hand moving again. “You are as perfect now as you’ve ever been. I can’t believe I’m seeing you like this.”

“Tell me what to do, Jake,” you plead.

The control he’s desperately trying to keep is starting to crack. Every part of him is wanting to rip that phone from his hand and be there with you. “Touch your inner thighs,” he requests, his voice sounding low and strained. “Just your thighs, don’t touch anywhere else.”

You comply, running your fingers over your thighs as the sound of his voice gives you goosebumps.

He watches you, his eyes glued to the way your fingers move over your skin. His hand slowly working over himself, his need to touch you growing. “Good girl…Does it feel good to touch your skin?” he asks, his hand moving faster. 

“Yes, but I wish it was you,” you admit, your legs starting to shake with anticipation. 

​​“I know,” he whispers, “I know, babydoll. You have no idea how desperately I need it to be my hands.” He bites the inside of his cheek, fighting back the words he wants to say.

“Jake,” you practically moan his name, your back arching as the need for him consumes you from the inside out. You let your eyes flutter closed as you let your hands roam over that most sensitive part of you. “It feels so good but it’s not enough. I need to…I need…” you plead, your whimpers filling the void between you.

He can’t take it anymore. Your desperate whimper has shattered the last bit of his resolve, leaving only pure desire in its place. As much as he wants to watch, to see every bit of you come unraveled, he can’t stand it anymore. He has to see you. “Look at me, baby.”

Your eyes flick to his, seeing them dark and blown out with lust. 

“Spread your legs, let me see you,” he growls, and slowly you do as he says, placing the phone back down against the pillow. 

Watching you spread your legs is the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. The way you’re trembling underneath your own touch makes him let out a soft moan, his hand starting to work faster. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, completely entranced by you. “Touch your clit for me, baby.”

Your hand moves without hesitation as his words ignite something inside of you. He gasps, completely hypnotized by everything he’s seeing. “Slowly, baby,” he whispers, drinking every moment in. “Don’t rush it.”

Your fingers move  in soft, slow circles over your clit as you do what he requests, desperate to obey him. You’re already so close to that edge, his voice is sending you flying. “That’s it, just like that,” he’s praising you, and the look in his eyes says he’s as close as you are. “Keep doing it, baby. Don’t stop.”

“Are you touching yourself, Jake? Are you hard for me?” you ask, knowing he needs this release as much as you do. 

He groans, his head dropping back as your voice fills his ears. “God, yes. You have no idea how hard I am right now. All I want….No, all I need is to bury myself inside of you. I need to feel you, all of you, every warm inch… I need it more than air. I need you, baby. I need you so badly.” he says, flipping his phone around to show you his beautiful cock as he works it with his hand. Precum has started to gather on the tip and you wonder how he tastes. 

“I want to taste you, Jake. I want to feel you in my throat. I want to swallow down every last inch of you. So fucking bad,” you whine. 

“Jesus…” his words come out as a strangled gasp. “I want that, too. I’ve dreamed of having your mouth wrapped around me, of seeing you on your knees, swallowing my cum. I want it so badly, baby. I’d give you everything.” he says. “Put two fingers in baby, move your thumb to your clit.”

You sink two fingers into yourself, the camera positioned perfectly for him to watch how your body takes the digits. “Oh god, Jake,” you cry, wishing more than anything it was him. 

“Oh fuck, look at you. I’m never going to forget this. I’m never going to be the same after seeing you like this.” He takes a moment to just watch your body, his hand still moving furiously on his length. “I need you to keep going, just like that, but start with a third one. I want to see how much you can take, because that’s how much I’m going to give you. As soon as I get my hands on you, I’m going to wreck you, Poppy.”

“Please Jake, I’m so close,” you whine, adding a third finger. 

His chest is heaving, his hand moving at a rapid pace. His eyes watch your every movement, drinking it all in. “I know, baby,” he responds, his voice ragged. “I can see you getting tight around those fingers. I need to hear you Poppy, I need to see your face as you come for me.”

“Come with me, Jake. Please,” you beg. 

“Together, then, ” he breathes. “I’m fucking close. Come for me, baby. Right now.” He’s on the edge, and watching you is going to take him over. “I’m right there, you have no idea. Just come, baby. Look at me, let me see my girl fall apart for me.”

Your eyes lock on his as you fall apart against your own fingers. Your mind tricks you into thinking it's him, letting loose the most powerful release you’ve felt in years as his name falls from your lips. 

He sees the wave hit you, and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Hearing his name in that moment does it, it’s all he needs. He gasps as he watches you and lets go, “Fuuuuck,” he whimpers, shuddering as release begins to wash over him. “Y/N…Poppy...” he grunts, “I’m coming, I’m fucking coming,” he grunts, his body tensing as his cum lands on his bare chest in several hot spurts.  

It’s like a freight train, the way it builds and then comes crashing down. And then it’s over. All that’s left besides the ragged breathing is the blissful silence. And as it clears, you find him there staring at you like it’s the first time he’s seen you. He looks so vulnerable, so open. His body is still, but his chest is rising and falling as the last hints of what you did are still visible on his chest in the dim light. The words hang between you, heavy with the impact of everything you just did.

“Poppy,” he whispers, still catching his breath. 

That word breaks your heart, and you find yourself unable to speak for a minute. The weight of all of this is taking over your chest and you have to swallow to find your voice. “Jake,” is all you can manage to say.

He just stares at you. It’s like a dream. You’ve been here, in this moment a million times, but it’s never been real until tonight. All of this feels so impossible, and you’re still trying to make sense of it. 

“I…” he tries to speak, but his voice is barely a whisper. “I don’t know what to say.”

Your guilt overtakes you, “I'm sorry...That I ran from you again. I didn’t want to. I just–”

He shakes his head, the pain of it all visible in his eyes. “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I get it. We both know why you did. I just wish…” he trails off, the words caught in his throat.

“I wish things were different,” you finish. 

“Yeah,” he sighs heavily, the weight of it all hitting him. “We’ve been wishing that since the day we met,” It hangs in the air for a bittersweet moment before he speaks again. “Maybe in another life.”

“Yeah, maybe so,” you whisper. “But Jake?”

“Yeah, P?” The way he says it, the way he says your name, it feels so intimate.

“We’re still us, right?” you ask, your eyes welling with tears. You hope he doesn’t notice.

He stares at you for a moment, taking everything in. “Yeah, we’re still us.” He responds quietly. There’s a long pause before he speaks again, but his face is filled with so many different emotions. “We’ll always be us.”

A single tear falls down your cheek, “You promise? Forever?”

His heart is breaking, watching that tear fall. He’s desperate to brush it away, but he can’t. He can’t touch you. He can’t hold you. He can’t tell you that it’ll be okay. He just has to watch from afar, wishing for more. “Yes, baby. Forever. I promise.”

You nod your head and swallow down the lump in your throat, finally meeting his eyes again, “Happy New Year, Jake.”

You can tell he is shattered just the same as you are, but he is doing everything he can to keep it together. “Happy New Year, Poppy,” he responds quietly, trying his absolute hardest to steady his voice. “I’m glad you were my midnight kiss.”

“Me too, Jake…” you trail off. 

He forces a soft smile, trying desperately to hold on. “I should let you get some rest,” he says quietly, the words making his chin tremble.

You nod, “Yeah, it’s late…”

“Okay,” he whispers, hating every second of this. “You get some sleep.”

“You too,” you murmur.

“I’ll try,” he says, his voice so weak. “Goodnight, my beautiful Poppy.”

 Your voice comes out cracked and thick with emotion, “Goodnight, Jake.”

You want so badly to say more. But the lump in your throat is too strong. You stare at him through the screen, trying to memorize every tiny detail in this moment, knowing that this is how things are going to be. 

“Bye, love,” he breathes, desperately hoping that you don’t hear the word that slipped out, but you do. The screen goes dark, the call ending as you drop your phone to the bed. 

For a minute, you just lie there, staring into the darkness. It just feels so empty without him. The loneliness is almost oppressive, and you need…something. You’re desperate for his touch, for his smell, for anything. You finally sit up, grabbing his shirt that you had pulled off earlier and putting it back on. You crawl under the covers, pulling the shirt over your head. 

You curl up to his shirt, pulling it up over your nose and closing your eyes. It feels like if you could just will it hard enough, maybe you’d feel him here, in your bed, holding you. But you can’t, and you know you have to live with the memories of how he felt pressed up against you at the bar, instead. He’s just a few miles away, on the other side of town, in his bed, probably thinking the same goddamn thoughts. And here you are, separated from him, but no less in love with him than you ever were. Your arm is draped over your pillow, your eyes fixed on the wall across from the bed. You’re trying desperately not to cry, but the tears start anyway. You pull his shirt over your eyes, trying to just disappear in it, hoping it will give you just a bit of comfort. But it doesn’t. 

You know you have to live with the decision you made, even though it's not what either of you wants. You let yourself cry until you can’t anymore and then you just lie there, in the darkness of your childhood bedroom, holding his shirt like a goddamn lifeline. You’re fighting the sobs that are trying to tear out of your chest. 

It just doesn’t make sense. You’ve always been so sure of yourself, and of your life. But right now, the only thing you can be sure of is that you love this man more than you ever thought possible, and you’re going to have to spend the rest of your life knowing that you will never be able to tell him how you really feel about him. How you’ve always felt about him, because though it may be true, it doesn’t change anything. You can’t be together, and that's what hurts the most. 

November 10, 2026

Detroit, Michigan

You drop your car keys into the ceramic dish by your front door, the metallic clang echoing through the house. Your coat is dripping with rain, the weather not giving you a single ray of sun the entire day, in fact the forecast even calls for snow. As you hang it on the coat rack you’re sure to fish your phone out of your pocket, still receiving a few sporadic birthday texts here and there. 

There’s a text from your parents congratulating you on your milestone birthday, a few messages from friends and of course the obligatory ones from random old classmates you haven’t seen since high school. You’re almost at the bottom of the messages when you’re suddenly hit with a wave of disappointment. You don’t know if you were expecting him to reach out today, but it doesn’t make you feel any less deflated that he hasn’t. Not a call, not a text, no flowers, nothing. Part of you wonders if he’s finally moved on from your friendship, or whatever it was. 

Today was a busy day like any other, maybe even busier than usual. You spent most of the day preparing your client in the office for trial next week. It’s everything you’ve ever worked for. You were finally living the life you always dreamed of, but for some reason, you knew something was missing. It felt incomplete.

You drop onto the couch, the heavy November rain against the windows is the only noise in the house. Now that you are finally home, your exhaustion is starting to hit you, and your thirty minute commute  in the rain and traffic didn’t help. You reach for the remote on the coffee table and flick the T.V. on. Nothing is really jumping out at you as you browse through the channels so you just leave it on the news, not really bothering to pay attention. 

You can’t help but dwell on the fact that you haven’t heard from Jake today. Today of all days is the one you count on each year. Big beautiful poppies always show up at your door when you least expect it, but now at 6:30 with no delivery trucks in sight, you let your heart fall. You lean your head back against your couch, letting your eyes close as you think of all the years you took it for granted. You can’t help but smile when you think about it. How thoughtful he was to send poppies specifically. They always were significant to you, a special moment between you and Jake all those years ago. 

You can remember it clear as day. Jake was the first to get his license having a birthday in April, his beat up old sedan now his pride and joy. He insisted he drive you everywhere, to school, to work, everywhere. He just loved the freedom. It was about a month after he got his license when you got a text from him, telling you he wanted to take you somewhere. This wasn’t strange because again, he insisted on driving you everywhere. But this was different, it was early in the morning, and he told you it was a bit of a drive. He gave you no other details, but told you to be ready for him to pick you up in an hour. It was a warm day, dressing yourself in a pair of cut off shorts and a tank top, fastening your hair into a braid as you waited to hear his car pull into your driveway. 

The engine of the car was loud, the windows rolled down. Music was blasting from the stereo as you opened the passenger door to the car. He was already turned to face you, a wide grin on his face, “You ready?” he asks, looking you up and down, with a nod you reach for the door handle as he speaks again.“Well, get in, we’ve got a drive ahead of us.”

You spent two whole hours on the road, him not giving you a single clue to where you were going the entire time. You’d never been with him in the car for this long, but there wasn’t a single nerve coursing through you. You were completely at ease, you remember that perfectly. He sang along to every song that came on and you couldn’t help but to stare at him, even then you were totally and utterly in love with him. 

When the car started to slow, you saw it. Right there through the passenger side window you saw the biggest field of flowers you’d ever seen. You didn’t even know the place existed. It was stunning, as far as the eye could see, flowers. Thousands of them. Red, yellow, orange, pink, every color you could imagine. Your eyes were filled with wonder, and you looked over at him, his eyes still on the road, but his smile was present. 

“I knew you would love this,” he said as he pulled off the main road. He brought the car to a stop and turned to look at you, studying the awestruck look on your face. “Come on,” he said simply, climbing out of the car and walking around to your side to open the door for you.

As you got out you walked along the overgrown pathway towards the field of flowers, the sun shining down harshly on your shoulders as bees buzzed around overhead. “Where are we?” you asked, letting him lead you. 

“Fennville,” he smirks, flipping his sunglasses down to his nose. 

“How did you know this was here, we are in the middle of nowhere?” you question. 

“Heard some people talking about it at Kroger, thought of you.” he answers, rubbing his hand over his mouth. 

“Do you know what kind of flowers these are? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Yeah, they’re poppies.” he smiles, snatching one up from the ground and tucking it behind your ear. Your heart swelled at the act and it was right then you had a new favorite flower. 

He led you deep into the field, the two of you spending hours exploring and picking the beautiful flowers. He eventually sat down in the middle of the field, lying down to watch the sky, patting the ground next to him for you to join him. You laid next to him, your heads turned to look at one another. You remember exactly how the sun cast his face in the most incredible glow, the flecks of gold in his eyes stood out more than ever, and the freckles that dotted his nose were almost shimmering. Your mind drifts back to how effortlessly you two could just be together. You couldn’t get enough of his attention, and he was never scared to give it to you. You just existed together, comfortably, calmly.

He twirled a beautiful red petaled stem between his fingers as he looked up to the sky, listening to the nature that surrounded the two of you. “You know, these kind of remind me of you.” he says, softly. 

“Really?” you breathe, feeling sleepiness take you over as you lounge in the warm sun. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles, staring at the flower between his fingers. “They’re not afraid to stand out, to be bold. They grow wild and free and they are just so full of joy. You can’t help but smile when you see them. The rest of the field is so plain, but they fight to get their share of the sun. Just like you.” He looks over at you when you don’t respond. You’re almost asleep, the heat of the sun and the beautiful afternoon sending you into a blissful trance.

You turn to look over at him, he is staring up at the sky, his profile completely visible. You’d never been around anyone who paid such close attention to the little details about you, the thought alone made your heart skip a beat. 

“So soft and beautiful,” he continues, letting the stem fall from his fingers and reaching over to lightly lay the flower between the two of you, “and you’re just as unique as these are. They don’t grow everywhere, they’re rare.”

You let his words sink into you, and unbeknownst to him you felt exactly the same way about him. You looked to the field, the poppies dancing hypnotically in the breeze around you, and the colors on their petals almost sparkled in the sunlight. You were surrounded by hundreds of thousands of them, and every single one of them was beautiful.

That was the day your nickname was born, Jake refusing to call you anything else after that. You loved it, it was special, and no one else knew why. They didn’t need to. There was no hiding the flush from your cheeks that day, or the flutter in your heart each time he let it slip out. You couldn’t deny its significance, you were completely lost to the boy that was lying next to you in the field of poppies, and you didn’t know it then, but you always would be. 

As beautiful and special as the memory was to you, it also hurt, knowing that today was the first time since that day that he hasn’t sent them to you on your birthday. The memory now feels tainted and forgotten. You pull yourself up from the couch and make your way into the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine to try and ease the pain that has suddenly crept up upon you. 

You feel the cold air from the open fridge as you pull out a bottle of Pinot Grigio, the neck of the bottle clinks against the edge of the glass as you fill it up more than you should. You move to the counter and lean against it, staring blankly out the kitchen window into your backyard. Darkness has settled in, and you're reminded once again that you are entirely alone with these thoughts. No one to pull you out of your head, no one to whisper sweet nothings to you. 

You even tried to make plans with friends tonight, hoping to share a few drinks and laughs to ring in your thirtieth, but each person you asked had plans, or perfectly valid reasons they couldn’t. Families to tend to, and partner work events. If you didn’t feel alone then, you certainly do now. It’s not like the weather was the best either, all around this day was a bust.

You stand in the empty kitchen, surrounded by all the silence and feeling so utterly alone. You lift the glass to your lips and take a heavy swig. You try to shake off the feeling that this might just be the most miserable birthday you've ever had. Unable to stand the silence a moment longer you wander over to your album collection, your fingers searching through the shelf for the one album you know will help soothe the ache inside you. You smile when you see the familiar cover, pulling the vinyl from the sleeve and placing it gently on the turntable. The unmistakable sound of Bad Company begins to play through the speakers as you sit on your couch and drink your wine, wondering where Jake is tonight and if he feels this too.

You stare out the window, watching the rain and now snow fall together, your head starting to feel fuzzy. You drink your wine as you listen to “Weep No More”, wishing that it would numb you in ways that would make the ache disappear, but it doesn’t. It just reminds you of how lonely you are, how lonely you have been for so long. As the guitar solo sounds through the speakers, you lean your head back against the couch and close your eyes.

Next thing you know you find yourself waking on your couch, the record begging to be flipped and your wine glass empty on your coffee table. The rain is still pouring and the clock now reads 8:43. You decide to call it a night, placing your glass in the sink and closing the turntable until next time. You drag yourself upstairs, changing into a pair of pajamas and pulling your hair into a knot at the top of your head. You crawl into your bed, ready for this day to be over and as you turn off the light, the last thought on your mind is Jake. Just like always. 

It's hard to fall asleep, your brain just won't shut off. Your mind is still working overtime, memories playing in double time. It's a vicious cycle, and a cycle that you get stuck in every year on your birthday. Each year, one year older but no less sad. You close your eyes tightly, doing the only thing you can do right now which is force yourself to fall asleep. Or try to, at least.

As you start to drift off thunder clatters in the distance and though it’s soothing, it wakes you, causing you to toss and turn. Just as your eyes begin to close, you hear it again, but it sounds strange. A few seconds later you hear it again, and your brain fully wakes as you sit up in your bed. You listen again for the sound, and as you hear it you realize it's not thunder at all, but the sound of someone knocking on your front door. 

A bolt of panic runs through you. Who the hell would be at your door at this time of night? You look at your phone, it's almost ten-thirty. No one you know would be stopping by unannounced, and at this hour? You get up, quietly walking from your room, down the stairs and toward the front door. As you get closer, the rain and the knocking both get louder, causing you to grow even more confused as nerves start to gather in your stomach.

You take a deep breath as you gather your courage, twisting the lock and opening the door. The second the door opens, a gust of cool, wet air blows through the house. The rain, now seemingly heavier than before pours onto your front porch step, the sound almost drowning out the sound of your thumping heart. You peer through the dark, rain drenched night and you swear your heart stops at the sight. Your mind can hardly comprehend what you’re seeing. 

In the dark, with rain pouring down around him, you see Jake. In jeans, a t-shirt and a very drenched leather jacket, holding the largest bouquet of multi-colored poppies you’ve ever seen, petals heavy with rain. 

“Poppy?” he says. He's breathing hard and he looks incredibly panicked. You again notice the bouquet in his trembling hand and your brain starts to piece the situation together.

“Jake? What’re you–”

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I was supposed to be here hours ago, but there was a wreck once I hit 75, and then the traffic–” he says, water dripping from the end of his nose as he talks. 

A wave of shock washes over you at the fact he's really here. Right here at your doorstep no less. “Oh my god– Come inside!” you urge, seeing his cold, wet body start to shake. 

He nods his head and starts to shake the water off of himself like a dog as he steps into your house. His hair is sopping wet, and the way his shirt clings to his chest…well, you’re trying to push down that thought. He looks like he’s barely holding it together. As soon as you shut the door behind him he holds out the bouquet, wanting you to grab it.  “Happy Birthday, Pops, sorry they’re late.”

Your heart shatters. Of course he didn't forget. “Jake...Thank you...But– You're here, in Detroit, what are you–”

“It’s your birthday, Pops,” His voice is shaky and his body is shivering slightly. He's soaking wet and he's going to get sick if he stands here in those wet clothes any longer. So, you reach out and take his hand, tugging him with you as you walk toward your living room. He follows you in and stands awkwardly next to the couch as you turn to face him. You can’t take your eyes off of him, and you notice the look in his eyes is off, like your presence has him hypnotized. You notice his eyes move up and down your body, taking in your pajamas.

You quickly look down at yourself, feeling slightly self conscious and he instantly notices. He shakes his head as if reading your mind. “No, don’t. You look perfect to me.”

You feel bashful, and unsure of what to say, so instead you rush to the bathroom to grab a towel for him to start drying himself off.

“Thank you.” he mumbles and takes the towel from you, trying to dry his face and hair. You watch as he rubs the towel over his head, his shirt comes off his body and you're almost knocked backward. There were a few times throughout the years you'd see him shirtless but, my god, did he look good now. You're trying to take little glances, hoping he's too busy drying off to notice.

“Jake, don’t think that I don’t want you here, but…Normally you just…send the flowers. I can’t believe you drove eight hours to deliver them, in this weather no less…” you question, crossing your arms across your braless chest. 

He stops drying his hair and stares at you. You can see the look in his eyes. It’s  intense, and it’s not just because he’s freezing. He’s trying to read you, he’s searching for something. He stands there, in his wet jeans, with only a towel thrown over his shoulders. He is looking at you intensely, and your heart starts to pound in your chest.

He bites his lip, and his eyes dart down your body for a split second. He swallows and continues to dry his hair, the air around you suddenly feeling much heavier. He looks you in your eyes. “The flowers didn’t feel like enough this year.”

“Jake, they are always enough. They are more than enough,” you whine. 

He drops the towel to his side, the damp strands of hair clinging to his face. You see his chest rising and falling, trying to steady his breathing, but he seems to be failing. He walks towards you and you back up until you are pressed against the wall. He gets in so close you can feel his body heat, and he gently reaches up to take your chin into his hand. His fingers are still cold, and the feeling of them on your skin almost burns. His voice is rough as he looks at you deeply, he’s searching every inch of your face. “No. I couldn’t let you be alone, to sit there all night long with a glass of wine in your hand, just staring at the flowers. Not this year, Pops. This year is different.”

“Different?” you breathe.  

“It's your thirtieth birthday, Poppy.” he smirks.

“Yeah?” you answer, still not on the same train of thought he seems to be on. 

He takes a deep breath, and you can see the nervous look come over his face again. His eyes flick down to the floor, his cheeks start to get red. He can’t look at you. This entire thing is so incredibly intense, and you can feel the anticipation in the air. He takes a deep breath and then lets his eyes meet yours. 

“You know, I have traveled all over the world. I have seen people and places so beautiful your mind can hardly comprehend it. I’ve seen waterfalls and caverns, and cliffs and fields so big and vast you feel small compared to them. What I’m saying is that, I’ve been to so many places and seen so many beautiful things, but none of them, nothing, compares to you.” 

You blink at him, awestruck by his words. “Jake…”

He doesn’t give you a second to speak. He’s nervous and he’s scared, and all of this is coming out unfiltered. “I mean it, I’ve been to so many gorgeous places, I’ve met so many people and nothing has captivated me the way you do. I have searched the whole damn world, and everywhere I looked, I was looking for you. Always looking for you, thinking about you.”

You don’t even know what to say. Just two hours ago you were laying in your bed missing him, and now hes here, in front of you spilling his soul. 

“I could go to the edge of the ocean and see the beauty of the sunrise, but it’s nothing compared to the way your eyes light up when you laugh. No matter where I go, or how many new things I see, I can tell you that there isn’t another you. You’re rare. You’re my one in a million, wild and free Poppy. I’d give up every single thing I have to wake up next to you in that poppy field again, just to be next to my girl. Just me and you.”

Your lips part to speak but he’s not done.

“It's been twelve years since that night in my basement. Twelve years that I have thought of you day in and day out. I know that at the time you probably didn't mean it. Who really means anything they say when they're eighteen?” he laughs. “The thing is, I did. I did mean it Pops. You're all I’ve ever wanted, so much so that I signed the back of a gas station receipt to prove it.” he says, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He reaches inside and pulls out a well worn, tattered and wrinkled receipt, barely hanging on to life. Signed on the back with both of your names. Your heart lurches in your chest as your fingers grab the delicate paper from him. 

He rubs his hand over his mouth, trying to find the courage to keep going. “And I still mean it today, Poppy. Twelve years later, and I still feel it, I still feel everything…for you.” His eyes don’t break from yours, and you can feel all the walls he’s put up starting to come crumbling down. You can see that he’s terrified, but he’s fighting to keep those emotions tucked away. “I’m ready to make good on that pact, Y/N. I never forgot. Not for a second.”

You look at the receipt in your hands, seeing the words scribbled down so carelessly, promising yourselves to each other at age thirty. Your names are still there, though the pen is faded. You hadn’t thought about that night since it happened, and seeing this has flooded your mind with the memory. The night you kissed him for the first time. “I can’t believe you still have this.”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice shaking. “It’s the only thing that has kept me going. How do you think I got through all these years?” His eyes are still locked on yours, he is trying so goddamn hard to keep everything inside him. He’s fighting the tears that are attempting to come, “Every time I thought time was up, every time it looked like we wouldn’t make it, that this thing we have was hopeless…I’ve had that piece of paper. It was something to hold on to...” his voice drifts off, his eyes are watering now. “A piece of you when I couldn’t have the real thing.”

You see his eyes fill with tears, and you can’t take it anymore. You reach out to him, your hand touches his stubbly cheek. You wipe his tears away with your thumb. You’re not even sure what to say right now or what to do, just that you need to touch him. He reaches up and grabs your hand, holding it against his face, desperate for your touch. 

The walls are coming down, he can no longer hold back. “God…you have no idea, no idea at all the hold you’ve had on me, Poppy. You don’t understand how much I’ve loved you for so long. You know how much I still do. Even if I never said it, even if I didn’t fight for it…I still kept loving you, more and more with every single day. You were always there, in my heart, in my mind. For twelve years, shit, longer than that, you’ve been my everything.”

Love. He loves you. He’s always loved you. 

“Jake, I lo–”

He pulls your hand from his cheek, resting your fingers on his mouth as he slides them across his lips, taking in the feeling of you. Then, his eyes meet yours again. “And listen, I don’t even know if you have a boyfriend, or– or if you’re seeing anyone…I never let myself look, but I’m here, I have time, and I want this Poppy. I want you. I want to do this. It’s finally time for us.”

This feels like you’re in a dream. You’re watching some fantasy of yours unfold right in front of you. You would be convinced that this isn’t really happening, if it weren’t for your hand still against his lips. Your heart aches, and you feel like maybe it’s too good to be true. The man you’ve been in love with since you were young, the man who keeps you awake at night, is telling you what you’ve dreamed of. 

“Jake, you– you want to be… with me? Like…that?”

“Of course I do,” he says, his voice cracking, “I’ve wanted it forever. I wish I could go back and change things all those years ago….I wish we could have just been together the whole time. But right now…I just need you to hear me when I say that I want you, I’ve always wanted you. I’ve only held on and I’ve only pushed through for you. Everything I’m doing is for you. For us. You’re my girl, Pops. I’m ready to make it official.”

You feel your own eyes starting to well with tears, the words coming from his lips are everything you’ve ever wanted. The part of your life that has felt so incomplete has suddenly vanished from the second you opened your front door. It’s him, it’s always been him, and now he’s here, asking you to be with him in the way you planned all those years ago. 

“I won’t promise you that it’ll be easy. This isn’t going to be pretty. We’re not kids anymore. We’re not those two dumb teenagers who made a promise on a piece of paper not knowing what life had in store for them. We’re in the real world now, and it’s messy. It's hard. We both have demanding jobs and work long, tiring hours, but I know we can do this. I want to do this. With you. No one else.” he whispers as he rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, his knuckles dragging along your skin like he’s trying to absorb the feeling of you.

“But– Married? That seems like a big leap,” you breathe. 

His mind drifts for a moment as he tries to put together the words. “Is it a big leap? I don't think it is. If you think about how long I've loved you, the idea of us being together, it's not too soon. I've waited twelve years to be here with you. I've taken every single step just to get to this moment, and now I know, even through all the bullshit, there's no one else for me. I want to be married to you.”

“It just– it seems scary,” you whisper, feeling his hand wrap around your waist. 

He steps even closer, his hand wrapping around you and pulling you against him. His damp chest pressed to your thin tank top. You can hear the sound of his breathing, and feel his hands as they roam gently over your body. “It is scary, it’s terrifying. Being without you is scary, and the idea of me losing you completely scares me the most. But, what if we just try? What if we stop running and just try?”

Your eyes meet his as his thumb rubs small circles on your lower back. 

He leans forward ever so slightly, closing the distance even more between your bodies, like he’s pulled into your gravity. A faint noise escapes his lips as he breathes against your mouth. “Sometimes you just have to jump and trust that the net will appear.”

It’s as if your breath has been stolen from your lungs, “I–”

He’s so close, all you can see is the gold flecks in his eyes. His lips skim across your cheek, your skin is on fire. You can feel the air from his nose brush against your face, his hand around your waist is holding you so close. His touch is lighting you up inside like fire, you’re completely hypnotized by him. 

“I want to do this, Y/N. I have a long time off, and I want to spend it with you, making this work. I love you Poppy. I’ve loved you forever. We can do this. Say yes. Say yes to this, Poppy.”

“You’re sure about this?” you breathe, letting your lips brush his. 

“Every nerve in my body is telling me this is right. I know in my soul that this is it. It’s you, it’s only ever been you….” he whispers, his hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pulling your body into him as his mouth ghosts over yours. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me like I want you, P.”

“I want you, Jake. I always have.” you confess, cupping his cheek with your hand. His face falls into your touch as he groans with relief. 

“Do you love me?” he asks, his tone vulnerable and pleading. 

“Yes. I do. You know I do. I’ve loved you since the day I met you,” you answer, brushing your thumb under his eye.

He breathes against your palm, your name murmured out in a soft whimper. “Say yes, Poppy. Be mine. Marry me.”

There’s no hesitation, no second guessing. You know this isn’t some fairytale that you’re going to wake from. The only man you’ve ever loved, the one man you’ve dreamed of for years is standing in front of you asking you to marry him.

“Yes.” The word falls from your mouth so easily, it's as if you haven’t even thought it through. This could be the most dangerous thing you’ve ever done. 

Your heart is pounding, the word feeling so final on your tongue. 

And as you look at him, you have no idea what the future will hold, but what you do know is that he’ll be in it, and that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

But… this was Jake. You needed to be fully honest with him. 

Your present, real life wasn’t going away. There was a crafted reality that didn’t involve him, in ways you didn’t care to address at this moment. 

Though, you couldn’t lie to him. You had to tell him. There was one issue. It wasn’t so drastic that it could get in the way of this for you two, per se. It just seemed wrong to go through with what you felt was about to happen, without informing him of your current situation. 

But, logic was escaping you quickly. 

As soon as he was leaning in to kiss you, his lips so full and soft, you lost the ability to rationally think. Any thought besides Jake Kiszka himself was far and fleeting from your mind. 

Tonight was meant for you two.

Right now, this could be it. All you had to worry about was right now. At this moment, you could venture into a universe where things seamlessly fall into place. Just like you always wanted.

A little secret kept from him in this moment was the least important thing to you as you felt his lips finally brush against yours, his mustache tickling your upper lip. 

The harsh beating of your heart calmed as soon as you felt his lips touch yours. 

Tonight was tonight. 

Tomorrow’s reality could set in just as soon as you felt him like this, the way you've always dreamed of— even if only this once. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

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Taglist: @wetkleenex-gvf @joshym @farfromthehomelands @sacredstarcatcher @britney-gvf @stardustjake @jakesmustache @starshine-wagner @mweasley19 @emsfallingsky @joopsenthusiast @ageofbajabule @ladywhimsymoon @vanfleeter @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @ageoflou @freefallthoughts @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @literal-dead-leaf @welllauragvf @writingcold @bizzielisteningtogreta @neptune2324 @itsafullmoon @violet-hayes @gvfmarge @demonrat444 @mybussyinchrist @cl0ver-j4de @earthgrlsreasy @what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama @mama-likes72 @lenagvf @laurngvf @racheljuneeee @farfromthehomelands @cat3rpillarbaby @cassiesgreta @jarmonicasweat@ghostly--photography @josh-iamyour-mama @raviolilegs @gvfmarge @milkgemini @jaketlove @watchingover-hypegirl @ageoflou @cl0ver-j4de @takenbythemadness @lightmyloverry

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[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

buff guy

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Part 13 ɞ

❥ CW: chubby fem reader x buff guy, smut, hints of noncon coming from Y/N, Y/N is a vegetarian sorry not sorry

❥ A/N: the smut bug bit me and i had to write this shit sksksk please enjoy 💕

"I had a date idea," you tell Guy before taking a sip of your coffee.

"Oh yeah? Tell me."

"I was thinking," you start, swirling your coffee, "that we could go to this painting and wine tasting place. You like pay for a session and they teach you to paint a landscape or something and then you drink wine while you do it."

"That sounds nice. Do you wanna go?"

"Yeah, it would be fun! I thought you might wanna go too so that's why I brought it up."

"I would love to go with you."

"Cool, because I already bought tickets to go." He frowns.

"Why'd you buy the tickets? I could've bought them. You should've told me."

"Because I wanted to! I can do whatever I want; you can't stop me."

He pouts, huffing.

"I'm supposed to take care of you."

"Says who? I'm a grown woman; I can take care of myself." He rolls his eyes.

"Alright, alright. But I don't like it."

"Well, you're just gonna have to deal with it, mister!"

"Yeah," Liz interrupts, putting a hand on your shoulder, "just like how you're just gonna have to deal with Y/N coming back to work."

Guy rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever." He stands up from his seat. "You know, I could just buy this coffee shop and put it in Y/N's job description to sit with me for as long as I want and—"

"Don't you dare!" you shout, bolting to your feet. "You will not jeopardize my job!" He laughs, holding up his hands.

"Calm down, I was kidding! I would never do anything to make you mad like that."

"You better not! I'll break up with you in a heartbeat!"

"Nooo, don't do that, I love you." You blow a raspberry at him, circling the table to give him a hug. He squeezes you tight, kissing the crown of your head. "What time should I pick you up?" You hum in thought.

"Pick me up on Friday around... five thirty. It starts at six."

"Sounds good. You don't want to eat beforehand?"

"Nah, we can eat after. Do you like Indian?"

"Yeah."

"Then we'll pick up some Indian food and go back to my place."

He grunts, resting his chin on your head.

"That sounds good." You hum.

"Good. Now, you gotta let me go." He pouts.

"But I don't wanna."

"You gotta." He moans unhappily.

"But I don't wanna." You squirm in his hold.

"Unhand me, foul beast!" He snorts, releasing you.

"I am not a beast."

"You are. You're my beast." He hums, pressing his forehead to yours.

"And you're my beauty."

"And I'm Mrs. Potts!" Liz grabs you, pushing you back to the coffee bar. "C'mon, Belle, we got work to do."

You laugh, waving at Mohammed.

"Bye, Mo!"

"Bye, beautiful."

"This place is cute!" you declare as you walk up to the storefront with Mohammed, holding his hand.

"Have you ever been here before?" he asks.

"No, I haven't. Haven't had the time, or anyone to go with."

"Not even your friends?" he inquires. You shrug.

"We're never free on the same nights. Last Friday was planned for a while."

"I get it." His hand squeezes yours. "I'm glad we have time together."

"Me too," you smile, bumping into him before he gets to the door, opening it for you.

The establishment is small, but nice, homey. It's comfortable here, casual. There's already a crowd formed in the front room. You stand there awkwardly, only relaxing when Mohammed puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his side.

"It's crowded," he whispers.

"They had limited seats available when I bought the tickets," you mumble back, looking around. The rest of the room was filled with women chatting with each other, glancing your way before leaning in together and giggling. "You seem to be popular."

"You say that like I care." There's lips pressed against your temple. "I'm here with you."

"I know, I know. I just..." Your voice drifts off as you see a woman eyeing your boyfriend, looking him up and down hungrily.

"Don't get insecure on me." His hand moves to your waist, squeezing the fat there. "If you do, I'll have to get rid of those thoughts later."

You look up at him.

"What do you mean?"

"Alright, everyone!" a woman at the front claps, raising her hands for everyone's attention. "It's time to start! Please follow me into the next room."

"You'll see," he mutters, winking at you before grabbing your hand, pulling you along. You contemplate his words as he guides you into the next room.

There's dozens of easels with canvases and stools, paints and brushes beside them. At the end of each aisle are buckets filled with ice and wine bottles. You're prompted to take a seat anywhere, so you find some place in the middle of the room, not immediately at the front but also not too far away from it. You and Mohammed take a seat. He adjusts his easel so it's closer to yours, his seat following him so that you're right beside each other. The action makes you smile.

"Alrighty! Good evening, everyone! Thank you for coming to 'On Cloud Wine'. We're going to start so grab your brushes and get yourself a glass!"

Some of the women cheer happily, and you stifle a giggle. Guy grabs the wine bottles beside him, holding them up for you to look.

"Do you want red or white?"

"White," you reply. "I prefer the sweeter stuff." He grunts, putting the red wine back in the bucket. You grab your glass as he opens the bottle. He takes it from you, filling your glass half way before handing it back to you. You bring the glass to your lips, taking a sip. You hum.

"Not as sweet as I like it, but I guess it'll work."

"I'll get you better wine later," he leans in to whisper, making you chuckle. He returns the white wine before grabbing the red, opening it and filling his own glass. You hear soft music before you look to the front of the class, seeing something projected on the wall.

"Oh my god," you mumble, realization hitting you. You lean close to Guy and whisper, "oh my god!"

"What? What am I missing?" he asks, glancing around the room. You grab his shirt and tug him closer.

"Is this seriously it?" you ask, motioning to the projection at the front of the room.

"Who's that?" he asks as a gentle voice is cast throughout the room.

"It's Bob Ross! You don't know who Bob Ross is?"

"I don't know a lot about art." You roll your eyes, leaning ever closer.

"He used to do art tutorials on TV way back when. I think this is it: this is the whole class. It's just wine and Bob Ross."

"Oh..." He glances at you. "Is that bad?"

"It's a rip off!" you hiss. "We could've done this on our own!"

Someone shushes you and you shush them back out of spite, making Guy chuckle.

"Do you want to leave?" You sigh.

"No. I spent money on this and they don't give refunds. God damn it, I should've read the terms and conditions better."

"Hey," his hand finds your thigh and gives a gentle squeeze. "Don't beat yourself up. It's fine. We'll make the most of it."

You pout, huffing before chugging your glass of wine. You swallow, making a soft gagging sound.

"This is not what I thought it would be."

"Do you want more?"

"Yes."

You paint unhappily, following the tutorial on the wall; well, barely following it. You take your creativity and project it onto your canvas, using different colors than directed, making more trees and less bushes around your lake. You don't bother with mountains, keeping your forest level, a sunset in the distance. Or sunrise, however you looked at it.

"Are you at least having fun?" you ask Mohammed halfway through.

"Yeah," he says with a smile. "I don't think I've ever painted like this except for in school."

"Really? But it's so fun."

"I can see that now. We should do this at home some time."

"At home?" you ask, tilting your head. He glances at you sheepishly before going back to his painting.

"At... I meant your place."

"Oh..." You swallow, glancing between him and your painting. "Do... you see my apartment as a home?"

"It's... well, it's certainly more homey than my place."

"I've never been to your place..."

He stops, looking at you.

"Do you want to come to my place?"

"I... I mean, eventually. I just... I don't know. I've never thought about going to your place. Is it far?" He shrugs, moving his brush again.

"Not really. It's pretty much in the center of the city." You hum, adding a cloud to your scenery.

"We should go there some time."

"We can. Just... not tonight."

"Why not?"

"It's not clean. My cleaning lady comes tomorrow. It's dusty."

"You don't dust yourself?" He shrugs.

"I'm always too busy or too tired to clean."

"Do you at least do your own laundry?"

"Yes, Y/N. I'm not lazy, I just don't do the little stuff like dusting or vacuuming."

"Alright…" You decide to add a star off into the distance. "You better not expect me to clean for you in the future."

"No. That's why I have a cleaning lady. I'm not gonna make you do that stuff. Don't want your pretty hands to get dirty."

You bark out a laugh and get shushed again. You roll your eyes.

The video finishes just as soon as it began. You're somewhat satisfied with your painting. Perhaps you'd be more satisfied if you had followed the tutorial properly.

"Yours is nice," Guy says, leaning over to get a better look at your painting.

"Thanks." You look over at his. It's a bit messy and rough, but it's so him. "I like the house you added. And the little people."

"Oh, yeah." He points at the stick figures smiling. "That's you and me. And that's our summer home by the lake." You giggle.

"Oh my god, that's so cute. That's so sweet, Mo, I love it." He grunts.

"Yours looks better. It's like a professional's."

"It is not!"

"It is! I'd buy that at an art show."

"You would not."

"I would. I'd love to have that." You glance at the painting, then back at him.

"You can have it if you want."

His eyes dart to you, stunned.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't like it enough to keep it, but you can have it."

He huffs, his lips curling as he looks back at your painting.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

When you arrive back at your apartment, you leave your painting in his car. He carries dinner up to your apartment and you hold the door open for him. He kisses your cheek as ‘thanks’.

You put on a movie as you eat, chatting.

“What’d you get?”

“Vegetable Biryani, and some naan. What about you?”

“Butter Chicken. Do you want some?”

“No offense, but no.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t eat chicken.”

“Why not?” You shrug.

“I don’t eat meat.”

“What?” He puts down his food, looking at you. “You don’t eat meat? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wasn’t important.”

“It’s very important! I’ve been eating meat around you nonstop. I feel like an asshole.”

“Why?”

“Because you don’t eat meat and I do and that’s, like, half of the stuff I eat!”

“Oh my gosh, Mo, it’s okay. I can’t control you; you can make your own choices. This is just my choice.”

“Oh my god. That’s why you don’t eat a lot of protein. It makes so much sense.”

“Excuse you! I get plenty of protein!”

“I wasn’t saying that; please don’t take it like that. I meant, like, you just eat beans and stuff. That’s why you eat mostly appetizers and side dishes when there’s a lot of meat on the menu. Oh my god, I’m such an asshole.”

“Guy,” you put your hand on his arm, making him look at you. “It’s fine. I prefer being vegetarian, but I don’t expect you to do it too. You gotta live your own life.” He looks at you, taking a deep breath.

“I’m gonna eat less meat.”

“What?”

“For you. Once this meal is gone, I’ll stop eating meat around you.”

“Guy, you don’t have to do that—”

“I want to. I’m going to. You can’t stop me.” You roll your eyes, taking a bite of your food.

“You can do whatever you want, I guess.”

When dinner is done, you snuggle close to him, but he moves away.

“What’s wrong?” you pout.

“I should wash my hands. And brush my teeth. I got meat mouth,” he says as he gets up off the couch.

“Oh my god, Guy, this is excessive.”

“Do you have a spare toothbrush?”

“Guy, it’s fine. You don’t need to brush you teeth for me. Plus, I don't have a spare, do you can't."

He stands there, clenching his fists.

“Do you at least have mouthwash?” You groan, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, it’s on the bathroom sink.”

“Thank you.”

When he leaves, you flop down on the couch, barely watching the movie. You hear the sink run for a bit, as well as some gargling sounds. Everything is turned off and he comes back out with a smile.

“All clean for my girl.”

“Are you happy?” you ask.

“Yes, very.”

“At least there’s that.”

“Aw, don’t pout. C’mere.” He reaches for you when he gets to the couch, helping you sit back up as he sits beside you. “Did my pretty girl have a nice day?”

You shrug.

“Yeah, I guess.” He frowns.

“You didn’t have fun today?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just… well, the wine thing was a bust and then you freaked out about me being vegetarian and you eating meat. And then you insist on brushing your teeth, like, good god man, just chill.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. I just don’t want it to bother you.”

“It’s never bothered me before.”

“Not that you’ve told me.”

“Because it hasn’t! Look, Guy, it’s just not my choice. Would it be cool if you were vegetarian too? Or course it would, because then we could bond over that, but I still love you even if you eat meat. It’s just not the choice I want to make.” He grunts, rubbing his thumbs over the back of your hands.

“I still don’t want to eat meat around you now. And that’s my choice.”

“Okay, okay.”

He twists his mouth, looking up at you.

“Can we… maybe… fool around a little?” You scoff.

“Is that why you’re making a big deal about the meat thing? Because you wanted to kiss and touch me?”

“Obviously. Been thinking about it all day, but I don’t want to touch you with my dirty meat hands or mouth. That’s why I wanted to get clean for you, before we started anything.” You huff, rolling your eyes.

“You’re such a dweeb.”

“Is that a ‘no’ then?”

“It’s a ‘come here and kiss me before I kick you out for being a nerd’ thing.”

He nods, scooting closer so he can plant his lips on yours. It’s soft, and sweet. His lips are minty, leaving a cool sensation against you. It’s tingly. It makes you want to taste the inside of his mouth.

When your lips mold together, you lick over his bottom lip. He opens for you, naturally, letting you move inside. You can taste the mouth wash he just used. It tastes a bit odd with the curry flavor still in your mouth. You pull away.

“I should clean my teeth too.”

“What? No, no, you taste amazing, come back here.” His hands find your cheeks, holding you tenderly as he brings your mouths back together. You moan softly as he glides his tongue over yours, trailing along your teeth. You snake your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His hands find your waist, holding firm, squeezing. It makes you moan into his mouth. You pull away again.

“Should I take the dress off?” you ask, and his face lights up.

“Oh my god, yes, please.”

You giggle, pulling back so you can shimmy the dress over your head, dropping it to the floor, leaving you in just panties. Guy stares, his eyes trailing over you.

“You get prettier every time I see you.” You scoff.

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not, I’m really not.” He balls his hands into fists. “I wanna touch you. Can I touch you?”

“Of course.”

He rushes to put his hands on you, firm and strong against your waist before sliding up to your breasts, giving them a hearty squeeze. His touch is so rough that it pushes you back on the couch. It doesn’t faze him: he simply crawls over you, still touching, still palming your flesh and digging his fingers into you.

“Guy, s-slow down! We’ve got all night!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You can feel his pace slow just a bit, but then it speeds up again, his hands kneading your breasts rabidly. You’re moaning, voice hitching and squeaking as he pinches your nipples roughly.

“Mo, Mo,” you grab his hands and peel them off of you.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I pushed you too hard, didn’t I?”

“Mo, calm down. Breathe.” He stares at you, taking a deep breath before letting it go. “What’s gotten into you? You were so cool and collected last time, what happened?”

“I’m sorry, I…” He huffs, running a hand over his face. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since last time.”

“Like…?”

“Like, I’ve jerked off every day since then.” Your eyes widen.

“You have?” He nods. “Do… you think about me or—”

“Of course I think about you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I think about your body and your moans and the fucking adorable face you made when you came and then I get hard and I have to jerk off.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah…”

You sit in silence, curling your legs towards you as you sit up.

“How many times have you jerked off?”

“Like… at least twice a day every day since I fingered you.”

That’s hot. That’s really hot. You squeeze your legs together, feeling yourself leak at the thought of him jacking off to the thought of you.

“Can you… tell me what you think of?”

“What do I not think of?” He slumps against the couch. “I think about that day a lot, obviously, but then I think of these silly fantasies and—”

“What kind of fantasies?”

“Well… I think about our first time together, what that’ll be like. How you’ll feel around my cock. The way you’ll moan.”

“What else?”

“I… well, one fantasy I had was us going on a trip together somewhere romantic, like Italy or France or something, and taking you on a bunch of tours. And you’re wearing the cutest outfits and you just look so pretty the whole time. And then we get back to our hotel and you just want me so bad that you can’t stop touching me and kissing me—what are you doing?”

You stop, realizing what you had done, snatching your hand from your underwear.

“Oh my god—”

“Were you—”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry—”

“Were you touching yourself?”

“I’m so sorry, Guy, I didn’t even realize it! I’m so sorry, please, let’s just forget it ever happened and—”

He grabs your hand, the one that had been shoved into your panties, staring at you intensely.

“Can… Can you do it again? Can I watch?”

You’re shocked, blinking owlishly.

“What?”

“Can I watch you touch your pussy?”

“You… you want to see me do that?”

“Yes, I—oh my god, I can’t believe I’m telling you this—it’s a fantasy I’ve had before and I—”

You put a finger to his lips, silencing him. Your hand moves to touch his cheek.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain.”

You scoot back on the couch, shimmying out of your panties and dropping them to the ground with your dress, spreading your legs for him. He watches with wide eyes as you suck on your middle finger for a moment before bringing it down to your cunt, moving in between your lips to touch your clit.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, leaning forward to get a better look. “Oh my god.”

Having him watch you turns you on as you touch yourself. You move your finger down to your entrance, collecting your slick and going back to your clit.

“Can…” He swallows hard. “Can you spread yourself open so I can see?”

You silently do as he asks, bringing your opposite hand to your cunt and pulling your lips open, holding them there as your finger goes back to your clit. You hear him groan, glance down to see him palm at his crotch.

“Are you hard?”

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You move your finger faster, staring at him. “Can I see it?” He blinks, gulping.

“I… I don’t know, I—”

“You don’t have to,” you rush out, readjusting your position. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I just… I’d really like to see it, if you want to show me.”

His hand fidgets; he won’t look at you.

“I… I’m worried you’ll be disappointed.”

Oh. He must be small; that’s why he was so insecure about it.

“I don’t care what it looks like, Mo. I’ll like it because it’s you.” He looks up at you.

“I’m worried you won’t want anything to do with me once you see me.”

You stop touching yourself, sitting up and touching his hand gently.

“Mohammed, it’s okay. You don’t have to show me if you don’t want to, but just know that I’ll be happy no matter what you look like because I like you as a person.”

He glances at you, then back at his crotch, sighing.

“Just… please don’t freak out or break up with me.”

“I won’t, I swear on my life.”

He sucks in his bottom lip, letting it go with a loud sigh. He reaches down to undo his belt, unzipping himself. You steel your nerves, forcing your face to be neutral, just in case he really was as small as you were imagining.

It’s fine, you thought. You’ve dated guys who were smaller than average before! He can make you cum regardless if he’s big or not; he loves you and will do whatever it takes to make you feel good. Just don’t freak out if he’s little. Don’t freak out, don’t freak out, don’t—

You blink when he releases himself.

“Oh my—”

You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to stay calm. He slumps a bit, trying to tuck himself away.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve never shown you. I’ll go, I—”

“Mo, wait!” He stops, looking up at you, defeated. “Can… can you take it out again?”

He sighs, doing as you ask, leaning back on his hands so you could see. You stare awkwardly, zipping your lips together, squeezing your legs shut.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he says glumly. “I know it’s unrealistic to think that sex would be good with this size.”

“Mo, are you—”

“I’ve heard it before. My exes have complained. I know it’s annoying to deal with, so we don’t have to go forward if you don’t want to. I understand if you want to break up and just be friends, I just—”

“H-Hold on! Lemme think!”

He shuts his mouth, his hands grabbing his jeans anxiously. You swallow, bringing your hands to your chest as you stare at his cock.

“Are… are you hard?”

“No. How can I be hard when I’m nervous about my girlfriend hating my size?”

“I… I don’t hate it, I just…”

“Just what?”

“It’s…” You gulp, biting your lip. “Mo, it’s… it’s so big.”

“I know. That’s the problem.”

You hesitantly kneel closer, getting a better look. God, he was huge. You’d only ever seen dicks like this in the form of dildos or in pornos with skinny actresses being fucked stupid. You didn’t ever think you would see one of this size in real life.

And it was turning you on.

Just looking at his cock was making you leak like a faucet. Fuck, your cunt was squeezing around nothing, aching to be filled, to be filled by him. His cock was a bit darker than his skin, the head uncut. His balls were massive; you couldn’t imagine how heavy they were. His dick must’ve been bigger than the circumference your fingers could make. Was he as thick as a soda can? You didn’t know, couldn’t tell when your horny brain only had one thing on its mind.

“Mo, it… I’ve never seen a dick this big before.”

“I didn’t think so…” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “Look, if you want to break up, can you please just say it? I don’t know how long I can handle this torture…”

“Guy.” He glances at you. “I don’t want to break up.” You lean closer, putting your hand on his clothed thigh. “I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do right now.”

His eyes go wide.

“You… what?”

“I said, I’ve never wanted to—”

“I-I heard you, but… but why? Aren’t you freaked out? Aren’t you intimidated?”

“I mean, sure, it’s jarring at first but… I mean, I have a big dildo. It’s not like I couldn’t take you.”

“Wha—”

“Wait, I wonder how your sizes compare. Hold on, let me—”

“Wait!” He grabs your arm, keeping you planted on the couch. “You… you don’t want to break up with me? You’re not scared it’ll hurt? You’re not gonna call it an ‘elephant trunk’ or a ‘third leg’ or—”

“What? No! Are you kidding? Who talks like that?”

“I… I mean… I’ve been with girls in the past and most of them were too scared and even the ones who did try didn’t always like it and—”

“Stop.” You grab his hand with both of yours, holding it tenderly. “Do you care more about those past girls’ opinions, or do you care more about mine?”

“Y-Yours.”

“Good. Well, I’m telling you that I like it. I love it, in fact. I mean, god, I’m so excited right now that I wanna deep throat you but I know my mouth would barely be able to fit the head—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” He holds up his hands, breathing deep. “I—shit, I didn’t expect you to react like this—I still want to go slow, I—”

“Wait, did you want to go slow because you thought I wouldn’t like how big you are?” He pauses, looking over your face.

“Um… yeah…”

“Oh my god, get over here!”

You grab his face, smashing your lips against his. He gasps, giving you the opportunity to slide your tongue into his mouth. You start crawling into his lap, straddling his thighs, your hips plopping down on his cock. He inhales sharply, pulling away.

“Wait, no, I don’t—mmph!” Your lips are on his again, silencing him. He grunts, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you back. “Hold on!”

“Mo, please, I’m so horny for you right now.”

“I get that but—” He groans when you dart for his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses there. The sensation makes him moan, his hips bucking. Your hands travel over his chest, down his abs, towards—

“Wait!”

Suddenly, you’re flung onto your back, wrists pinned to the couch, his body looming over you. He’s panting, your chest is heaving, and he can’t stop himself from glancing at your tits.

“You—Jesus—you gotta calm down.”

“I can’t!” you whine, struggling under his hold. “I wanna fuck, like, now!”

“Y/N, this is ridiculous, why are you acting so—”

He stops when your hips lift and hit his cock, his voice breaking. He swallows, glancing up at you, seeing you stare right back at him, eyes wide, lips pouting.

“Mo, please, I’m so horny—”

“You’re acting crazy—”

“Well, how would you act if you saw the best pussy ever and wanted it?!”

“Like I am now!”

You’re taken aback. He sighs, hanging his head in defeat.

“I don’t want our first time together to be on a couch.”

“I…” You inhale, sighing. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for acting crazy, I just… Jesus Christ, Mo, do you have any idea how badly I want to have sex with you?” He glances at you and you see his cock twitch out of the corner of your eye. You swallow. “I… I mean, you’re so attractive, and you made me cum so easily once already and… god, I just know it’s gonna feel good and I want it now.”

“Y/N…” He sighs, hanging his head again. “I’m not gonna fuck you here.”

“I… I know…”

“But…” He looks up at you slow, anxious. “But I don’t want to leave you like this.”

You furrow your brow as he brings your hands together in front of your chest, holding them together with one of his large hands. His now free hand moves between you, grabbing his cock. Your eyes widen as he moves his hips closer, bringing his cock to your pussy and resting the underside against your pussy lips. You inhale sharply, looking back up at him. He’s not looking at you, his lips tight as he focusing on moving his hips between your legs, rubbing his dick against your pussy.

“I’ll… give you this… but you gotta wait for the rest… okay?”

“O-Okay,” you reply, your voice small. You look back down in between the two of you, spreading your legs as wide as you can so he has better access to you. He grunts, licking over his lips, focused. “Can… can I touch you?” He glances up at you, unsure.

“Do you promise not to go crazy again?”

“I-I promise. Please, I just—I just wanna touch you.”

He sighs but nods, releasing your hands slowly. You move your hands to his biceps, holding on as his hips pick up in pace.

“Does… Does it feel good?” he asks, sounding unsure.

“I…” You bite your lip, looking up at him. “C-Can you spread me open, so it can touch my clit?”

“Oh! Y-Yeah, sure.”

He moves his hands over your thighs, inhaling deep when he reaches your pussy. He tucks his thumbs over your pussy lips, pulling them apart, letting his cock sink down to your soaked labia.

“O-Oh…” he mutters.

“N-Now you can move.” He nods, pulling back slightly before pushing forward, the head of his cock brushing your clit, making you keen. “Good, that’s it. That feels good.”

“Yeah? You like it?”

“Mm-hm. Want more.”

“I’m not fucking you.”

“I know that, but you can move a little faster, can’t you?”

He scoffs, shaking his head, but doing as you ask. His hips move forward faster, a little harder, putting more pressure on your clit. You moan softly, moving your hands to his shoulders.

“It feels good, Mo.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You squeeze his shoulders, massaging his neck.

“Can… Can you cum like this?”

“Mm-hm. I think so.”

“Fuck,” he hangs his head, hands moving to your thighs, pushing them back. “Look, I know it’s not ideal, but I promise I’ll get that hotel for next weekend and book a nice restaurant that has food you’ll like. I’ll treat you like a princess in and out of bed all night, okay?”

“Okay.” You sigh when he moves faster. “Can I have a kiss?”

“Of course, baby, of course.”

He leans down to kiss you, letting your lips mold languidly. You hold his head with both hands, opening your mouth to capture his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging on it when you pull yourself back. He moans, blinking when you release him and stare up at him with innocent doe eyes.

“You… you…” He huffs, moving his hips faster, making you gasp. He grabs the back of your knees, pushing your legs towards your chest, making you squeak as he thrusts faster. “You do this shit on purpose, don’t you?”

“Mo—”

“You’re just trying to rile me up so I’ll fuck you, but I won’t. Not on your fucking couch. Gonna get you the best bed and the best champagne and fuck you so good you won’t ever doubt yourself ever again.”

“Mo!”

“I’m gonna make you cum over and over, all night long, until you’re begging me to stop. But in the morning, I’m gonna do it all over again, and then I’m gonna do it in the shower, and on the balcony, and maybe even my car. And then I’ll fuck you on this stupid couch.”

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum on your cock!”

He chokes, his hips thrusting wildly until you squeal, nails digging into his shirt. At the same time, hot liquid sprays over your stomach, all the way up to your chest. His hips slow, still rubbing against your sensitive clit, making you whimper until he stops. He’s panting, clutching the couch, arms straight so as not to fall on you.

“Shit,” he curses, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”

You look down at the cum covering you, pooling in your belly button and the fold of your stomach.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Fuck, it’s not. Do you have a towel or something?”

“I—”

“Never mind, I’ll just use my shirt.”

He sits up, grabbing his shirt behind his neck and pulling it off his head, revealing his chiseled physique. You stare at his body as he wipes the cum off of you, his face sour as he finishes.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, sitting up. He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, dragging it down as he looks away.

“This isn’t how I imagined tonight going.”

“Well, how’d you imagine it?”

“I imagined seducing you properly and eating you out. I wanted you to cum on my face. I didn’t want to hump your pussy like some fucking teenager.”

“I mean, we could always still do that.” He scoffs, smiling at you.

“Don’t be greedy.” He sighs again, sitting back against the couch, holding a hand out to you. You take it and he helps you up to sit beside him. You crawl closer, kissing his cheek.

“I had fun.”

“Don’t say things just to try and make me feel better.”

“I’m not! That was really fun. And sexy. You felt how wet I was.” He grunts.

“I did. It was hard not to go further.”

“Well, we’ll do it next week, once you have everything prepared like you want. And then it’ll be perfect.” He looks at you, hopeful.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. It’ll be great, I just know it.” You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss. You give each other a few pecks before pulling away. He looks down at his shirt, huffing.

“I need to wash this.”

“You could always wash it here and just sleep over.” He arches his brow.

“You wouldn’t mind?"

“You’ve done it already. Plus, I like to cuddle properly after sexy stuff. You’d be doing me a favor.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he smiles and wraps an arm around your waist, bringing you closer.

“Well, if you insist, how can I say no?”

[moonlit-imagines]

Screw Dumb Boys

Dustin Henderson x reader

warnings:

a/n: sowwy this took so long i hope u like it cuz i did actually enjoy writing it!!

prompt: @littlegaaby: “Hello! I would like to request a one-shot for Dustin Henderson from Stranger Things with a reader (gn or fem) who is very jealous of Dustin with Suzie, as if they were friends in love before Dustin went to camp and the reader is jealous of the way Dustin tries to talk to Suzie using his brain and the reader vents this to Max over the walkie talkie and Dustin ends up listening, it could end very cute with him and the reader confessing! I'm not sure if I explained it correctly haha, feel free to delete if you're confused and I'm sorry for the bad English, have a nice day!”

When Dustin came back from camp, you were ecstatic. The whole day, you couldn’t stop rambling about all you could do together to make up for lost time over the summer. Seriously, it was driving everyone crazy. “Y/N, we’re all excited to see Dustin again, not just you.” Mike finally interrupted and you looked to Max in your anger, the only person who understood your feelings here. She shook her head, trying to communicate it wasn’t worth the trouble and you’d soon see Dustin later today.

Well, when Dustin got home, things changed. He couldn’t wait to tell the Party about Suzie—his girlfriend from camp. Your soul practically left your body at the news, despite the skepticism of your friends.

“He’s probably lying, y/n.” Max tried to comfort you after you abruptly split from the group. “He’s a boy, he’s clueless. The rest of us have all had boyfriends and girlfriends, he’s just trying to catch up or something and had time to make up a story while he was bored at camp.” She was reallt convincing, but you didn’t think Dustin was lying. Especially to you. He was really your best friend and once you were calm enough to rejoin the group, he gushed to you about her.

“She’s super smart. Genius, actually. And she’s funny in a really mature, intelligent way. Very refreshing. And she’s pretty—long hair, dark eyes, nice smile.” Dustin was getting increasingly annoying by the second and it looked like you were about to burst a blood vessel.

“You notice anything wrong with y/n?” Lucas asked from across the room. You were staring off into space and boucing a leg while Dustin continued his ramblings. “They seem…off.”

“Yeah, they were like, super excited for Dustin to come home and now they’re just sitting there. Where did all those plans they were talking about go?” Mike added, looking to Max for an answer.

“What? I don’t know anything…” She defensively replied, but Lucas knew better.

“Wait…no way…” Lucas started laughing and tapped Mike on the shoulder. “Y/N likes Dustin. That’s why they look so pissed, he’s talking about his fake girlfriend and they’re getting jealous.” Mike continued observing and his jaw dropped. “I’m right, aren’t I?” The boys started cackling at the idea and Max was quick to hit both of them to quiet them down before you noticed. But she knew you needed a quick save.

“Shit, y/n!” Max yelled, looking at Lucas’s watch. “We gotta go, we’re gonna be late!” You looked confused a moment before it clicked that she was attempting a rescue.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, guys, I’ll call you later.” You grabbed all your stuff and ran out the door fast as possible without explanation with Max to follow, laughing as soon as you two got out of earshot, but you were still very upset. “I don’t think he’s kidding.”

“Oh, come on! Even if he isn’t, apparently she lives in Utah. Like that’ll last.” She tried her best to support you, but you were still coming down from the excitement of seeing him. This was a huge letdown and a devastating blow. “We can do something to get your mind off of it. Who cares about boys anyway? I’ll even break up with Lucas again and we can be single together. Screw dumb boys!”

“You’re a good friend, Max.” She finally got a chuckle out of you and she gave you a hug. “Can we get McDonald’s?”

—————

In all the turmoil of the Mind Flayer, you couldn’t get over your failed romance with Dustin. You thought the stress was honestly making it worse, and you were really getting tired of fighting for your life.

“He’s so stupid!” You shouted from the backseat with Max and Steve in attendance. “You seriously didn’t tell Dustin I liked him?” You started taking it out on Steve as he drove.

“No, no!” He defended, trying to focus on the road and saving, you know, all of Hawkins. “Y/N, don’t you think if I knew, I would have told him? I didn’t even think the girl was real, if I’m being honest.”

“It’s fine, y/n. He’s not the only guy in Hawkins.” Max tried to comfort you with the same old story.

“How many people in Hawkins are going to understand what we’ve been through. We have a connection, and I’m not gonna just give up because he’s got a girlfriend, you know?” You bit your tongue and took a breath. “Is that messed up?”

“I think it’s romantic.” Steve answered. “I mean, you guys go way back. You shouldn’t stop fighting for him.”

“Hey, we haven’t heard anything from the others in a while?” Max changed the subject, you’d been waiting for an update on the other teams for a while now. “Where’s the radio?”

“I have it.” You moved and heard it beep, meaning you’d just released the button. You were sitting on it. The blood drained from your face as you realized that you just broadcasted your very private conversation to everyone you knew. “Shit!”

“Hey, don’t worry. Maybe you just pressed it!” Steve said, going pale since Dustin might have just heard him gunning for a breakup of his very new and first relationship.

“Is that true, y/n?” You heard Dustin call over the radio. “Over.”

“Maybe. Over.” You nervously responded and Max grabbed the radio from your hand.

“Mind your business, Henderson!” Max yelled into the radio.

“You didn’t say over. Over.” Said Dustin.

“Over!” She yelled and tossed the radio on the front passenger seat. Your face was buried in your hands and you were already crying, Max did her best to console you since you did the most embarrassing thing anyone could ever do. “We’re almost at the spot. What do you want me to do?”

“Hide me from him.” You told her.

“I can help with that.” Steve added.

Once you’d reached the meeting spot. Dustin was waiting for you. Steve and Max were basically forming a wall to hide you, which was even more humiliating. You could hear the boys giggling over your pain, but Dustin pushed through Steve and Max and gave you a hug.

“I’m sorry.” He told you. “I am stupid.”

“It’s okay.” You responded, bursting into tears iver all the stress. Loss, embarrassment, and fear all catching up to you at once. “I’m glad you’re happy, Dustin.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @ripoffadora // @mrs-steve-harrington // @captainshazamerica // @imaginesbymk // @randomawesomeperson102 // @augustvandyne // @summersimmerus // @azazel-nyx // @simp-legend // @prettysbliss // @sapphireplums // @beth-gallagher22 // @ravenstrueluv // @you-bloody-shank //

[ronearoundblindly]

Your days were short, but packed full of work, which was strategic. Because by the time you got home, you were exhausted and ready to go straight to bed. And the sooner you got to bed, the sooner you could see Jake, your fiancé, in your dreams. That was the only place, these days, since he’d been away for weeks on a mission that popped up out of the blue. No contact, as per usual. Longer sleeps meant longer dreams with him, but when you walked through the door, tossing your keys down on the entryway table, you weren’t sure if you had somehow already drifted off when you heard the shower running. It was paired with two combat boots kicked off at the end of the hall, and a light humming drifting through the living room you were walking through quickly to verify your suspicions. He was really home.

I'm ready. Let's do this!!! (There is no shirtless-Jake gif and I am SAD.)

Warnings for oral (m receiving), because Lexi is thirsty for shower sex apparently, and some dirty talk (petname of 'babe'). MINORS DNI. There is plenty of all-ages content on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for everyone! WC 805

A high-pitched scream whistles over the fssst of running shower. It’s so subtle Jake doesn’t notice until the thud of front door hits a low note.

“Oh shit,” he mutters, racing to rinse shampoo from his hair and suds off his face.

He grabs the safety bar with a washcloth slung over it and then juts his hand past the curtain to clasp the towel rack, barely in time to brace for the onslaught.

“JAKIE!!!!!”

The plastic shower curtain and its castors are yanked aside, and you squeal in delight, hopping over the lip of the tub—fully-clothed,—throwing your arms around his neck.

One of his feet slips under the weight.

“Hey, babe,” he says into your shoulder of still-dry cotton.

You pull back and smile. At least, he’s fairly certain you’re smiling. You’re blurry, and he’s a bit blind without his glasses.

He can hear you whine just fine though. “Too long, Jake. Way too long.”

Your hands are petting down his naked body, so Jake keeps holding onto the bars for dear life, trying not to eat shit on the slick floor. You continue anyway, fingertips tracing his abs, the cut of his hip, the happy trail he trimmed less than ten minutes ago.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m sorry for—“ he giggles when you pinch at the tender spot on his side “—got, I mean, we got waylaid. The team…hi."

You wiggle closer, soaked through now, leaning into him and peering up through your lashes.

A goofy grin stretches across his face. "Hi there, cutie.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, waiting for his nod. “I love you, but I don’t care. No team talk. No tech talk. Just be home, okay?”

Jake groans obscenely when your hand wraps around his length.

You maintain glassy eye contact. “Been dreaming about this. You miss me, too, big guy? Huh? Ready to come home?”

“Ah fuuuck,” he grunts. “Yes. So ready. Shit…”

It has been too long. Jake climbs so high so fast, he’s dizzy, watching you sink to your knees and take his rapidly hardening cock into your mouth.

“Babe, not gonna—uhnn, Jesus—not gonna last.”

And that was before your other hand started gently rolling his balls!

You can’t judge him for this, right? It’s reasonable he blows his load in three minutes flat when he’s been waiting to fuck you for weeks, isn't it? He even planned to rub one out in the shower to prepare, but here you are, eager and sucking him so perfectly.

You pop off of the head of his dick only for a moment.

“Show me how much you missed me.”

The words are a fierce challenge he’s all-too-willing to accept, so he all but begs for your touch again, one hand finally leaving the towel rack to cup the back of your neck.

“Close,” he gasps. “Just like that.”

Jake’s had his share of dreams, too. None of them hold a candle to the real thing. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers, the tap of your nose to his pubes as you take him as deep as you can, the vibration of a pleasured hums from behind your tongue while you lick patterns along the underside of his cock; he’s done for.

He manages only ascending “oh Oh OH”s in lieu of a coherent warning, but to his sweet lady, it’s obvious. His hips fuck forward that tiny bit more, and Jake curls his torso in ecstasy, clenching his grip into your hair for a split-second before relaxing.

His long, devastating moan starts just as the first spurt of cum hits your lips.

His thighs shake while Jake babbles how much he loves you. He can’t help but get sappy when you make him feel so amazing, giving him this attention and devotion and, yeah, being a horny gremlin like he is.

“You’re so perfect,” he breathes, finished at last, home at last.

You turn in the stream of water, spitting down the drain.

Jake helps you stand and hurries to get your wet clothes off only to haul you flush to his body and kiss you.

He’s soft with these, lazy and unhurried, nuzzling your cheek, capturing you over and over for kisses that say ‘I missed you,’ ‘I love you,’ and ‘I need you.’ He hums happily when your hands stop roaming his back and begin playing with his hair.

You’re imitating how he spikes it with product, gently tugging at the frosted tips.

He lets you go to stand under the water he fears might go cold soon.

“Am I beautiful?” Jake preens, his own hands notching at your waist and squeezing instinctively.

He knows how to make you laugh just as much as you know how to make him laugh. Equally, he knows how to make you come, too.

“Alright, dirty girl, how am I repaying the favor?”

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: no clue whether this is any good. might be stunted. might come back to edit it. maybe. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[opalcicle]

In the Woods Somewhere

Ch. 2 Rainy Morning

trans male reader x Slimecicle, one bed trope, horror themes

Waking up to the smell of a fire already going, I turn to see that Charlie's already up and out of the tent. I'm feeling cold, and a little stiff. I check my phone and remove it from the portable charger we have set up, 8 am. It's early. With a big stretch and a yawn I find my shoes near the entrance of the tent and slip out to see a cloudy sky.

Charlie's tending the fire, and looks at me with a big genuine smile, "Hey, good morning!"

"Morning," I reply, stretching again. "Fuck it's early, how long have you been up?"

"Maybe like an hour,"

"Damn dude," there's a morning grumpiness in my voice that I try my best to shake off, "you eat yet?"

"Just some snacks," he admits, "thought it might be nice to wait for everyone."

"Snacks sound good," I yawn as I finish the words, walking over to the truck to fish out a bag of chips and a bottled ice coffee before settling in a chair next to Charlie.

Thankfully he allows me to sit in silence and finish waking up. Charlie's crashed at mine enough times to know I'm not a morning person. Time moves, but the clouds don't, painting everything in a light gray. The wind blows a cool breeze, and Charlie adds a couple more logs to the fire before I'm finally ready to be a whole person and interact.

"I was really hoping to spend some time at the beach today," I say, looking at the sky.

"I mean we can, but like, it might rain," Charlie frowns at the clouds. "Maybe we should set a tarp up over the picnic table,"

I groan out a complaint at the concept of getting up to do something.

"C'mon man, it'll take like 10 minutes," he says, standing.

"Fiine," comes out of my mouth in annoyance, and I join Charlie at the truck, collecting the tarp while he collects rope. He does most of the work, I just have to stand and hold things in place while he ties knots around trees and adjusts the tarp to cover the table. In my groggy state I can't help but imagine him tying me up instead. Just as we get seated back at the fire, Charlie adding another log, Ted joins us from his tent.

"Mmm-morning," he greets through a yawn, grabbing himself a coffee before sitting down. Somehow Ted is his usually chatty self right off the bat, and keeps Charlie entertained.

I sink down into the chair and pull my hood up to keep out the cold, tuning out the other two and closing my eyes for a quick rest.

When I open my eyes again after what feels like minutes, Ted's cooking pancakes on a frying pan over the fire, Schlatt's up, bottle in hand, and the three of them are laughing.

"Oh shit," I say, sitting up.

"Eyy! There he is!" Schlatt says, sounding condescending to my waking ears, "Good morning, sleepyhead,"

"Fuck how long was I out," I grumble.

"Like 30 minutes," Charlie responds, "you looked so cozy we didn't want to wake you,"

"Thanks man," I say, stretching out my now very stiff back, "Ah, sorry Ted I was gonna make breakfast,"

"No worries dude," he responds, eyes focused on the pancake he's attempting to flip. Glancing down into the fire, it looks like he's tipped a few in already.

By the time everyone's got their pancakes I feel a heavy drop of rain hit my head. We move quickly to get our chairs and the hammock under tarps, and eat while the rain comes down faster and puts out the fire.

"Good timing," says Ted, through a mouthful of pancake, "at least we got to have breakfast,"

Schlatt makes a noise that sounds like agreement as he chews. Then he asks, "Well, what's the plan today, boys?"

"I dunno man, it wasn't supposed to rain at all this week," there's a disappointment in Charlie's voice.

"We could always drive into town, it seemed nice," Ted suggested, refering to the small down with a grocery store, a bar, and absolutely nothing else. I silently thank myself that I'd recently changed my ID marker. A small town bar does not sound like a fun place to be noticeably trans.

"Yeah, I could go for a drink," Schlatt replies, deadpan, before taking a sip of his open beer.

Ted shoots him a disapproving look.

"I guess, I was hoping to spend sometime outside," Charlie says.

"Be my guest," Ted jests, motioning towards the water falling from the sky.

"I'm down to head into town, it's like 20 minutes out, we can always come back if it clears up quick," I say after finishing my pancakes.

"Yeah, let's check it out," Charlie shrugs. My lips curl in amusement at how easily he agrees with me.

From the backseat of the vehicle I peer our into the other campsites. Expecting to see the campgrounds empty and deserted, I'm shocked when I see two kids in rain boots running through the rain. A disgruntled looking mom with an umbrella is trailing behind them. There's a man in a portable gazebo reading a book. There's a couple walking a weiner dog that tries to get in every puddle. In the seat opposite of me Charlie's people watching too.

"How'd you find this place, anyways, Ted?" Charlie pipes up. From the slight furrow of his brows I assume he's got similar suspicions as me. Maybe we shouldn't have joked about it being haunted, maybe we both scared ourselves.

"I booked it online! It had great reviews and decent prices, the beach looked good. There weren't many spaces for RVs and I think most people camp that way now." Ted brags about his find.

Charlie and I exchange a look, uncertainty in both of our eyes.

"I still can't believe you guys convinced me to come out here," Schlatt grumbles. The high maintenance man had brought a lot of luxuries, and we'd all bought him a lot of booze.

"Yeah, you love it out here," Ted says.

"Yeah, whatever," Schlatt pouts. He does love it though. We all know he loves being away from city noise and people, the fresh air, and the ability to just relax. He'd been pretending to complain about it for weeks.

It's an old town. The bar is almost saloon style and the little grocery store has yellow cracking bricks.

Schlatt, of course wants to head right to the bar. I accompany him there while the other two check out the rest of the town. They give me a sympathetic look, but Charlie knows my snacks and Ted'll make sure we get anything we need and more. I shrug when they drop us off.

It's still early enough in the day that the only other patrons are a group of elderly men sipping coffee in a corner. Schlatt stops at the bar and I find us a seat in a booth by a window. The cold wooden bench and rain on glass makes me feel like I'm in a music video for a sad country song.

"So what's up with you and Charlie?" Schlatt questions, sliding me my bottle.

"Hmm?" I'm broken from my daydream with a start.

"You know what I mean," he takes a swing, "out till after dark, the looks you give eachother, the way he dotes on you,"

I look at his smirking face and roll my eyes, "I don't think it's like that,"

"Yeah, yeah, I saw you fuckers holding hands,"

"No, I mean, I was just scared," I mumble the end of the sentence.

"What'd you say?"

"I said I was scared," I turn my face away from him, back to the window.

"Oh no, I'm so scared, I need big strong Charlie to hold my hand," he mocks.

"Dude, serious shut up, it was freaky out there," I weakly defend myself.

Just then, a bird lands in the window beside us, directly in front of my face. It's small and yellow with deep black eyes that stare straight through me.

"Awe look at the little guy," Schlatt touches his fingertips to the window pane. The bird hops over to the spot Schlatt's finger is touching, tapping from its side of the glass. "He likes me!"

Tap tap. Tap tap. We both watch the bird. Tap tap. Tap tap tap tap taptaptaptap. The feathery ball of sunshine ruffles itself up and stretching its wings before hopping farther down the sill. Another one lands where the first one did. It's the same bright yellow with black eyes. Thunk. It raps on the window hard, shaking it's head. Taptaptaptap thunk.

"Oh shit, maybe the windows not good for them," Schlatt stands to pull the curtain across the window just after a third joins the others.

"Weird little guys," I murmur, missing the grey light of the cloudy sky immediately.

"You should make a move," he returns to our prior conversation. "I bet Ted ten bucks you would first,"

"Oh my god. Drop it," I try to seem stern but the red in my cheeks is making it hard. "It's not happening,"

"Sure, sure," he says, pretending to back off. I know it's gonna come up again.

"He's only dated girls, were just friends," I mutter.

"Dude, seriously," Schlatt takes a sip, "I don't think he's straight,"

A flicker of hope wells up and dies quick. We're just friends. I repeat it in my head.

From behind me the sound of tapping grows in crescendo and I flick my head around to see the birds at the window next to us. There's maybe six now, all crowded up as close to me as they can get, pushing eachother to get closer. A chill passes over me as their eyes and beaks all point in my direction. Taptaptaptap, another lands, knocking one of its kin away from the sill. TAPTAPTAPTAP, then another, and another, and - SLAM! The sound of the bartender hitting a broom against the glass rings through my ears. I jump, making it most of the way out of my skin when she turns to me.

She's older, maybe mid-40s, with a look about her like she's been tending this place for years. She's comfortable, or maybe just oblivious; enough so to slam a broom against a glass behind someone's head. With a sour tone she says aloud, "Little fuckers!" When she catches the obvious fear on my face she sweetens herself, "Sorry love, gotta scare 'em off before they bring a whole flock 'round." With a sympathetic smile she returns to the bar.

As I turn back to Schlatt I catch the eyes of one of the men here for coffee. The whole group of them is looking my way. When they see I've noticed they all turn back to their table. Schlatt, on the other hand, is staring at me with a shit-eating grin.

"Scared of some birds?" he quips.

"Of a woman wielding a big stick near my head!" I defend myself.

"Thought you'd like a big stick near your head." he takes a sip, "or is it just Charlie's?"

"Oh my god!" groan in exasperation, kicking at his ankle under the table.

"Watch it!" He doesn't drop the smile.

"I know where you're sleeping," I threaten, pressing fingers into my temples.

By the time the other two meet us we're both three beers in and I'm about ready to strangle Schlatt.

"Hey!" Ted calls excitedly when he sees us. "You should have seen the store- it's got all these old timey display cases-" he slides in beside Schlatt to show him pictures.

Schlatt takes a glance at the screen, but not before giving me a side-eye as Charlie takes the spot next to me. "Yeah man, that's cool,"

While Ted goes through the pictures with Schlatt, Charlie raises an eyebrow at the empty bottles next to us. I silently convey my exasperation through a look that lets him know I'm maybe 10 minutes out from strangling our friend.

"They got anything to eat by here?" Ted's head turns towards the bar. The bartender is leaned on the back counter, going through her phone. "Should we stay for lunch?"

Shifting beside me, Charlie speaks up, "It look's like the sun was breaking, I don't wanna miss beach time." He tries to hide the slight whine in his voice but it's peaks through on the wanna.

An involuntary giggle leaves my lips and I cut it off with a hand slapped over my mouth. The look Ted and Schlatt exchange in response makes me physically cringe.

"Yeah, fine, let's go back," Schlatt agrees in his huffy half-annoyed tone.

While Schlatt pays for his drinks and I wait for my turn with what seems like an old and unreliable machine, I overhear the old men.

"Don't forget to lock your cows up this year, Bill," one of them says with a laugh.

"I fuckin' locked 'em up, the damn things knocked right through the old wall," another, presumably Bill, grumbles.

"Stupid things scared the shit out of us!" a third one joins the laughter.

"Trampled themselves too," Bill rubs a tremble, "no fuckin' cows getting out this year,"

Their conversation drifted on to new topics, but my mind hovered over the words this year. Trepidation makes space for itself in my gut as I mull over what I heard.

I'm brought back to the present by Schlatt's hand patting my shoulder, "Your turn, man,"

"Oh uh, yeah," I step up to the debit machine and absentmindedly make the payment.

We join the guys at Ted's truck and take off back to the campgrounds. The drive back is filled with music and singing and the weirdness at the bar fades out behind us.

After a lazy few hours the sun eventually catches up with the day, and it's not long before it's warm enough to warrant a trip down to the beach. I've managed to put back a few more drinks with Schlatt and a game of cards when Charlie comes bursting out of our tent with board shorts on.

"Beach?" He announces the question.

When my eyes find him I can't seem to peel them away. Fuck, is all I can think to myself until I get kicked under the picnic table.

"Ouch, what the fuck?" I swing my legs out to rub the shin Schlatt just booted.

"Yeah man, gimme like ten minutes," Ted answers from the hammock.

"I need a nap," Schlatt stretches, getting up to take Ted's spot.

"I'll get ready," I shoot daggers at Schlatt. His eyes are closed as he settles but his big goofy grin lets me know he heard the spite in my voice.

In the tent I dig through my bag for swimwear. I hold the shirt I usually wear at the pool in my hands, kneeled on the mattress, deciding. No one knows me here, could I just go without? Scars showing. I absently trace a finger over one of the surgery scars on my chest, then touch the little bit of stubble on my face.

Just outside the tent, Charlie grabs the zipper, "Hope your dick's away, I'm coming in!"

"Yeah, man," I respond, hearing the anxiety in my own voice.

He clocks it immediately, climbing in beside me and zipping us in, "Hey, what's up?"

"I-" don't know how to respond. I clutch the shirt in my hands and just hold it up.

I see his eyes look at the piece of clothing, the one he'd seen me in when we swim laps. It takes him a moment to understand but I see it click in his eyes when he does.

"Oh, uh, okay," he settles himself down next to me. He places a hand on my back in a way that I know is supposed the be comforting, but his touch on my bare skin makes it prickle.

I fight the moan trying to escape my throat and it thankfully comes out as a cough. Fuck, am I hard? Charlie rubs my shoulder and for a second I think I'm going to fall over.

"You don't have to wear it," he says softly.

"I know," is the only reply I can give.

"Here, let me see," Charlie moves to sit across from me and gently tugs the shirt away. My hands drop and my face goes red as his eyes fall over my chest. We're so close, and when he looks back up at my face and sees the blush he turns away fast. "You, uh, you look good man. I mean like, like a dude, no one's gonna say anything."

"Thanks!" I blurt out, sitting there stunned.

Charlie digs turns away to dig through his own bag. Awkward tension hangs between us. "Sorry dude I didn't mean to, like I wasn't trying to-"

"It's fine," I cut him off, turning to pretend to be busy with my own bag.

When he finds whatever he came in her for he leans forward to unzip the tent before leaning back, "Are you alright though?" the softness in his voice has returned.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good." I nod, tucking my shirt away, "I'm gonna go without,"

"Good!" He responds excitedly before correcting himself, "I mean like, good for you!"

I laugh, and push my luck to poke fun, "Sure dude,"

"I mean if anyone's a dick, we're already at a beach, they could totally accidentally drown," he attempts to dodge the gentle teasing.

I push it a little farther, leaning in, "Oh so you're gonna protect me?"

"Ah- that's not- uh fuck," he fumbles for something to say.

Laughter escapes me and I let him off the hook, turning back to my bag, "thanks man,"

"Yeah, no problem,"

Charlie makes his escape from the tent and I sit there for another minute. The buzz of booze his my head makes itself known in the silence. I slide a hand down my shorts and sure enough, my dick is at attention and there's wetness building between my legs. Fuck, Charlie. With my eyes closed I can only see his face as he looked over my chest. I finally let a quiet whine leave my lips. Maybe he does want me. Maybe it's the beers I've been putting back all day. With every inch of self control I have left I remove my hand from my shorts and leave the tent to join the others.

Ted drives us down to the beach, and we enjoy the sunshine, water, and sand for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. On the way back, we've got the windows down, singing some old country song along with the radio. In any other circumstance I'd groan at the twang, but something about being out in the woods makes it feel like it fits.

The rest of the evening and into the night we eat snacks, roast more hot dogs, play more cards, and drink around the cozy fire. Before it gets too dark each of us take turns heading down to the public showers. With the privacy and space of the stall I try my best to rub one out. The water is cold and I have to wear my flipflops on the slimey floors. I don't even get close before giving up.

When it's well into the night and everyone's heading to bed, I'm wide awake, drunk and hornier than I need to be. When I'm getting ready for bed I fumble out of my clothes and right on top of the blankets. Charlie's inside moments after me with his flashlight on, catching an eyeful of me in my boxers.

"Fuck man, I kinda tipped over changing," I laugh.

"Dude!" Charlie complains, "Put some pants on at least,"

I try my best to sit up, but fall right back on my face, giggling.

"Here, let me fucking help," Charlie sighs, looking through my bag for pjs, "Roll over."

"You're gonna put my pants on?" I say, unable to control the flirty teasing in my own tipsy voice, "Nice,"

"Fuck you're really drunk," he chirps right back. I can hear his smile through the exasperation.

I do roll over and manage to sit up, "You caught up to me not bad though,"

"Not even close the what you had," he tosses the pants at me.

I stand to try to put them on a flop back onto the air mattress before I even make it all the way up.

"Hopeless," he mutters, taking my pjs and trying to get my foot in through a leg.

"Charliiieee," I whine, resisting the help.

"Dude, seriously," he gets one legs through and starts on the other foot.

In the process of trying to dress me, Charlie ends up hovered over me between my legs. The whole thing has my dick throbbing and I just watch his mild frustration with awe. When he directs me to lift myself and pulls my pants the rest of the way up his hands slide up over my hips, stopping to rest on them. The squeak that leaves me sounds pathetic and I slap my hand over my mouth. One of my feet rests flat on the mattress, my knee up in the air. His body slides against my thigh when he does eventually sit up. Thankfully my hand over my mouth hides me biting into my bottom lip hard, suppressing more sounds.

"Dude, chill out," he laughs as he attempts to stand. The wobbly surface of the mattress takes him out and he falls forward, catching himself with hands on either side of my head.

I'm wide eyed as the sudden pressure on the inflatable bed bounces me up towards him. Our faces on inches from eachother. So of course, my dumb ass cracks a joke, "Damn, man, you didn't have to get me drunk to get me under you,"

"Fuck you," he grumbles, but I can hear the smile in his face in the dark.

"I mean, if you want to," I joke right back.

There's a pause from him before he pulls away again, this time rolling to the side to avoid falling. "Man, you are really wasted,"

"Guilty," I wait till he's off the mattress before climbing to my pillow and finding my way under the cozy blankets.

I hear him changing with my face turned away and my thoughts flutter over our day. Schlatt's words, Charlie in his swim shorts, his eyes on my chest, and that pause just now when I told him he could fuck me. God, there's something really wrong with me. I chastise myself. Then, after another thought, no there's not, he fucking wants me.

When Charlie settled into his spot, I consider briefly trying to hold his hand again before drifting off to sleep.

In the early hours I'm ripped from my dreams by a shaking. My hazy consciousness notices it's a hand on my shoulder jostling me awake.

"Dude, what the-?" I start, but Charlie's hand quickly covers my mouth. He's sweating.

"Shh! Listen," he whispers, letting go of my face.

I rub my temples with a hand, still a little drunk and in the early stages of a developing hangover. Then, there it is, in the distance. A barking. It's just a dog? In the dark, I shoot him daggers with my eyes for waking me. Suddenly there's another dog yapping much closer. Likely the weiner dog from a few campsites down. Then another from a different direction. Coyotes join in, yipping in chorus. The sound grows as canines from all over the woods join in.

"It's dogs, Charlie," I grumble under my breath. It's quite erie, but nothing unexpected for the middle of the forest.

"Wait," he whispers. The terror in his breath alerts me, and I also start to feel on edge.

Before long, the surrounding barking is cut off by a long howl. A wolf, but definately nowhere close to us. The dogs pause, the wolf bellows again, and the rest of the yapping group joins it. The howling comes from every direction in synch. I feel the hairs on my arms raise.

"Wait," Charlie says again. His hand never left my shoulder and it starts to squeeze, warning me that this isn't the worst of it.

When the howl dies I hold my breath in anticipation. The lone wolf starts, and when the dogs join in the don't howl, they don't bark. The sound they make is choppy, sporadic.

"Oh my god, they're laughing," I whisper. It's not a sound that should come from a dog's throat. The noise is unnatural, unnerving, but unmistakable.

Beside me Charlie is shaking. "They just keep doing this," there are tears in his voice.

"Hey, hey, it's gonna be okay," I say in an attempt to sooth him.

The shaking gets worse, and I take his hand off my shoulder. Working hard to move my body, I turn to him, sliding one arm under his head and wrapping the other around him. It's not hard to get him closer, he practically rushes into my arms. He settles his head on my chest and I stroke his hair as I hold him tight. Tears run down my bare skin, and I can hear Charlie sniffling.

"Shh, shhhh, I've got you, we're safe," I whisper as he curls up as close as he can get.

"I'm sorry," he whispers back.

"No worries, I've got you," I whisper back.

We lay like that for awhile, and eventually he falls asleep. My eyes are open, staring up into the pitch black of the tent. As I think about the days events I think instead of the birds on the window, the men talking about cows breaking down a wall, and the strange laughter of the dogs in the woods somewhere. I fall asleep too, but not easily, and my dreams are filled with little yellow birds with black beady eyes.

[graves4girls]

Johnny x celeb reader n there’s a party for other celebs etc. and there’s a bunch of paparazzi, a day or two before Johnny n reader had a quarrel and reader shows up to the party in a revenge dress. basically giving a show for all the paparazzi while avoiding johnny

up to u on how it ends! (sorry if my request didn’t make sense😭😭)

☆ paparazzi | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.3k ⚠︎ warning(s): fem!reader

lowkey wanna do a nsfw part 2 but idk i'll think abt it ⟡ be sure to check out my work on ao3 → gravesforgirls !!

He'd been pissing you off all afternoon, whining about how you shouldn't have even taken the role because your co-star was way too friendly with you. He'd spam his socials with selfies of the two of you, you'd get swarmed by paparazzi for grabbing a coffee together in between scenes, and there were even rumors floating about that you'd dropped Johnny for him. Of course, all of it was utter bullshit to stir up drama and get clicks, but you didn't think it'd get to Johnny the way it did.

"Oh, c'mon. He was all over you the whole goddamn interview!"

You roll your eyes, pressing a manicured finger to your temple. "Jesus Christ, Johnny, I'm not in the mood for this right now. You know there's nothing going on."

He huffs as you plop down on the edge of the bed to pull off your heels. 

"Do I? Cause the more shit that leaks, the more it looks like there is something going on. He's always touching you and shit."

"C'mon Johnny, do you really think I'd cheat on you with some guy I met five months ago?"

He sucks his teeth, staring down at you with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Y'know, I don't really know what to think right now."

You gape at him for a moment, scoffing as you stand from the bed.

"Are you seriously accusing me of cheating on you? Oh my God, you are such an asshole." You move to walk out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"The guest bedroom. Come talk to me when you're done being a dick."

He's still out of the house by the time you're stepping out of the bedroom, the satin of your mini dress hugging every curve perfectly, heels clicking against the shiny tiled floor as you make your way out of the house. You knew he'd be blowing up your phone the minute he gets home and realizes you're gone, but you're too worried about getting to the party on-time to think about it too much, slipping into the sleek black limo parked in front of the house.

You walk down the moonlit street, arm locked around your co-star's as the cameras flash behind the barrier, snapping any and every angle as you wave to the crowd. You stop for a minute to scribble a couple signatures and pose for some selfies before you're escorted into the venue, giggling to the girl clinging to you as you make a bee-line for the bar. You part ways as you lean against the varnished counter, tapping your nails against the wood as you order a drink. 

"Hey! I didn't know you were gonna be here!"

You turn to the voice, grinning at him as you pull him into a short hug.

"I wasn't planning on it actually, but there was a little trouble in paradise so…"

He hums softly, giving you a sympathetic nod. "You're still with Johnny?"

You swipe your drink from the counter, taking a sip as you nod. "Yeah, despite what the media thinks. God, I can't believe people actually think I'd ever cheat on him. It really pisses me off."

"Yeah, it's shit. But you're here to have a good time. C'mon."

You roll your eyes with a small laugh as he pulls you away from the bar, letting him drag you into the crowd.

You're posed for a photo op when your phone buzzes in your clutch, and you can already guess who it is as you step away to check the notification.

where are you   8:05 p.m.

You close the message with a sigh, tucking your phone away to join your friends back in the booth. 

You hadn't noticed the constant buzzing of your phone as you go about the rest of the night, too busy dancing to pay attention to the device. It's only when you step away to touch up your makeup in the bathroom that you pull out your phone, sighing at the onslaught of messages that cover your lock screen.

where are you   8:35 p.m. where are you   9:03 p.m. are you still mad at me   9:42 p.m. missed call   10:01 p.m. call me   10:04 p.m. missed call   10:16 p.m. missed call   10:36 p.m. please call me   10:53 p.m. missed call   11:04 p.m. are you okay?   11:05 p.m.

You're about to turn your phone off when it buzzes again, and you huff out a small sigh as you answer the call, eyeing your nails as his voice cuts through the phone.

"Jesus Christ, why don't you answer your goddamn phone? I've been texting you all night. Where are you?"

You lean over the sink to prod at your makeup in the mirror. "Relax, babe. I was busy."

You can hear him grumble something under his breath. "Relax? My girlfriend disappears and doesn't answer the phone for four hours and I'm not supposed to get worried?" He pauses for a second. "Is that music? Where the hell are you?"

You roll your eyes, fixing your hair.

"I'm at a party, Johnny. Am I not allowed to go out alone?"

"No, I just would've liked a heads-up that you were gonna be out so I didn't freak out. Are you coming home soon?"

You hum as you think for a moment.

"Probably not, so don't wait up for me. I gotta go."

"Wait, are you–"

You hang up before he can finish his sentence, grinning at your friends as you emerge from the bathroom. 

You're sat on one of the uncomfortable bar stools when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and your expression tightens as you turn around.

"What are you doing here?"

He gives you a look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Can we talk for a second?"

You glance between your friends and his cute little frown, sighing as you slip off the stool.

"Make it quick."

He ushers you away from the crowd and out one of the back entrances, eyeing your outfit for a moment before he speaks.

"Since when do you go to these kinds of parties?"

"Since tonight. Why do you care so much that I'm here? It's not like you never go to parties." You lean back against the cool brick of the building, mirroring his posture.

"Look, if this is about last night, I'm sorry. Those stupid rumors got to me and I was being an asshole. I was planning on going out to dinner tonight actually, but obviously that fell through..." He steps closer to wrap a hand around your waist, the other tucking some hair back. "Can we just go home and go to sleep? I really don't want you to be mad at me."

You push his hand down with a small scoff, but you lean into his chest as you stare up at him. "You're so stupid. C'mere."

Your hands come up to cup the sides of his face, pressing a short kiss to his lips that he chases, pressing you against the wall as his other hand settles over your hip. Your arms curl around his neck to pull him impossibly closer, fingers combing through his short hair as he hums against your lips. He draws back for a second to run his eyes all over your figure, raising an eyebrow as you let a small grin pull at your lips.

"Where'd this pretty little thing come from?"

He leans in to drop a couple kisses to your throat, hands slipping over your hips to grab at your ass through the silky satin.

"I was saving it for a special occasion." 

You tug at his hair to pull him away, sticking a quick kiss to his lips as you push a hand against his chest. "Let's get out of here before we get caught."

[msmk11]

I saw that you wanted some tangerine requests. I'd say I'm pretty good at requesting those🤓☝️.

OK, so I really like this concept.

Tangerine and reader have met before. Maybe it was at a gala. Maybe it was on a mission, I'm just gonna leave that open to you. But the point is, they have had multiple meetings before. Maybe they flirted on the mission or maybe they just got into a fight, again leaving that for you.

Basically, Lemon Tangerine and Reader have all been assigned to do a mission. And before that mission happens, they're planning at a dinner ( They don't really have the worry about blowing their cover because the diners kind of like in assassin's diner where assassins can meet up)

And a scene like this happens (ripping off of pulp fiction) And instead of talking about the pilot, he brings up her career as an assassin.

https://youtu.be/O3tGImqhrMo?si=1FVe6VFQSvZC7UfR

They flirt, they plan, Lemon feels awkward

And they both leave thinking about each other. I love this concept so much!!!!

Sorry for any grammar mistakes

I’m Sorry, Thank You, I’ll Always Protect You

Tangerine x fem!reader

WC: 3.5k

CW: lots of cursing, mention of weapons and blood, mentions of food, mention of alcohol, smoking (just cigarettes), mentions of death/fighting (it’s a Tan fic for goodness sake)

Author’s Note: Thanks for requesting lovely! Hope you enjoy! (This fic is also proof that I can’t write briefly for the life of me.) (also, side note, for the sake of the fic, your codename is viper)

The charming classical music playing softly in the background hardly matches your agitated mood. Your handler had just given you a new mission. One that, to your dismay, was not a one-man job, but rather, required you to work with partners. You always preferred to work alone because having a partner could get messy fast. Whether it was because they were too gutsy, not gutsy enough, or they were a cocky, arrogant asshole, you’d been thrust into one too many less-than-desirable situations because of the interference of a partner. Therefore, going into this mission, you are, rightfully, hesitant, and you pray that you haven’t been partnered with a total fucking idiot.

You anxiously check your watch for the umpteenth time, drumming your fingers on the dark, wooden table. Your new partners are not late, yet, but the dread pooling in your stomach makes you anxious to get this meeting over with as soon as possible.

“Viper?” A deep, heavily British voice declares.

“That’s me,” you say, looking up. And then your voice dies in your throat.

“Oh, bloody fucking hell,” the man in front of you curses.

It’s him. That arrogant bastard you’ve had the unfortunate luck of working with before. His twin is here too, of course, and you’re thankful for the slightly more pleasant company.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite twins, Peanut Butter and Jelly,” you drawl.

Peanut Butter and Jelly- your own personal nicknames for the twins. Ones that, to your delight, really pissed off the brunette.

“Told you not to fucking call us that,” the mustached man grumbles, sliding into the booth across from you.

His brother follows after him, and you notice the smirk he is trying to hide, “You’re just mad that you’ve been dubbed Jelly.”

“Yeah, ‘cos everyone bloody knows that peanut butter is the better part of the fucking sandwich. And I’m the better twin, obviously, so I should be peanut butter” he growls.

“The masses would disagree, Jelly, you fucking prick,” you retort.

His jaw tenses and you can’t help but revel in the feeling of getting him all worked up.

“Well aren’t you still a fucking daisy,” he replies.

“And as charming as always,” his brother adds, winking.

“Always a pleasure to see you PB. Though I suppose I can’t call you that on the job. What’ll your code name be this time?”

“I’m Lemon,” he responds, “and my brother here is going by Tangerine.”

You snort, “like the fucking fruits?”

Tangerine glares at you, “Yes, like the fucking fruits. What’s so funny about it?”

You hum and sigh dramatically, “I don’t know, Tan, it just seems a little silly, don’t you think? I mean, I can see Lemon being intimidating, because you never know what you’re gonna get with one. But Tangerine sounds pathetic, really. It’s the snack of grubby-handed children.”

You’re pretty sure his mustache twitches, and his hands certainly close into fists, “It’s sophisticated, yeah? Classic. No one likes fucking lemons.”

You feign mock offense, “I do. I like lemons a lot, actually. Tangerines, not so much.”

“Well sorry if I don’t really value your fucking opinion,” he spits out.

“I like lemons too, mate,” Lemon tells him.

“Well fuck me then.”

In your most teasing, seductive voice you reply, “Later baby, we have work to do first.”

Tangerine chokes on his spit and you hide your smirk as you pick up the menu.

Lemon coughs uncomfortably as he follows suit, “so what’ll it be tonight? We’re paying.”

“Like fucking hell we’re paying for her,” Tangerine protests.

Though you can’t see it, the grimace that flickers across the brunette’s face tells you that Lemon has kicked him in the shin, “Be fucking polite will ya, brotha’? Can’t go around dressed like that and then not pay for people.”

Lemon isn’t wrong. Every time you’ve seen Tangerine, he’s been dressed to the nines, fitted in the finest of suits and decked out in gold bling. It’s a wonder to you that he ever dresses nicely at all, considering all the blood that ends up on him by the end of a mission.

The brother with frosted tips, you think, has always had more swagger and appropriate mission-clothing. He is usually dressed more casually in a jean jacket and semi-formal shirt. Tonight, it’s a blue button-up with a Thomas the Tank Engine tie.

Before Tangerine can make some nasty reply, the waitress appears at the table asking if you’re ready to order. It’s a sight to behold, watching the cocky douche switch from his true, unpleasant self to a polite British gentleman.

“Yes, darling. I’ll take the steak, medium rare, and a whiskey f’me, please.”

You’re not surprised he orders a fucking steak, and, for some reason, it really pisses you off. While Lemon orders a burger and fries, you scan the menu looking to order whatever will tick him off the most.

“And what’ll it be for you, ma’am,” she says to you.

“I’ll have the most expensive thing on the menu, please,” you tell her sweetly. And then, you motion to your counterpart, “Tangerine here is paying tonight, and said to treat myself. Quite the doll, isn’t he?”

Tangerine masks his grimace with a charming smile, one that makes the waitress blush a little.

“Only the best for you, love” he says through gritted teeth.

You ignore the way your heart flutters the teeniest bit at the nickname.

When the waitress walks away with your menus, the brunette merely glares at you.

You only give him a sickeningly sweet smile, “Thank you, Tan. You’re awfully generous.”

He inhales sharply, trying to stay calm.

“If ya didn’t have such a pretty face, I think I’d punch ya right now. Lucky for you, darling.”

“Lucky for you too, I guess. Wouldn’t want my blood to ruin your shiny, new bling,” you retort, judgmental eyes trailing down to his adorned fingers.

“Right well,” Lemon interrupts, “can we get down to business? Please. You two’s bickering is making my hair whiter than it already is.”

Tangerine bites his tongue and nods while you just smirk.

Lemon turns to you, “Viper, I’m sure you got the briefing?”

You nod.

“I can tell this job is gonna be a lot more fucking difficult than our last one. We gotta save one person from a whole ass gang. It’s gonna be bloody.”

You lean back casually in your seat and cross your arms, “Won’t be a problem for me, Lemon. These sorts of jobs are my speciality.”

You dig through your bag beside you and pull out a pack of cigarettes. You put one to your lips and then curse, “Bollocks, forgot my lighter. Either of you happen to have one on you?”

Lemon shakes his head, “Nah, don’t smoke. Already put my life at risk everyday for my job. Not about to tease fate with those killers.”

The cigarette hangs loosely between your lips and you smile lazily at him, “to each their own, I guess. Tangerine?”

He shrugs nonchalantly and smirks, “Might, if you give me a cig.”

You roll your eyes at him and sigh. You pull out another cigarette and give it to him. He pops it in his mouth and then pulls out a silver lighter from his suit pocket. He flicks it on with one try and holds the lighter to the tip. It lights and smoke pours out. You watch the way his pink lips blow out a ring of smoke, and it’s for much longer than you’d ever admit. He takes another long, slow drag and you know that he’s testing your patience. As much as you want to nag him to hurry up, you don’t, knowing that if you did, he’d only purposely take longer. Finally, he holds out the lighter towards you. You go to take it from him and he swiftly pulls it back.

“Like fucking hell you’ll take this, love. This here is my nicest lighter, and I’m not going to let you fucking break it.”

You huff, “Fine, fine. Do whatever the hell you want.” And under your breath you mutter, “Asshat.”

You lean across the table, cigarette between your lips, and he reaches out to light it. The tiny flame pops up, and his hand gets so close to your mouth that if you moved forward just a little bit, your lips would connect with his skin. It isn’t an unpleasant thought, and that’s what disturbs you the most. Once it’s lit, you quickly pull away and take a long drag. You close your eyes and let the smoke work its way into your lungs, calming you.

“So for the mission,” you sigh, taking another inhale of smoke, “I think one of you two needs to be in charge of getting the hostage, so I can help take out the mob.”

“Yeah bloody right,” Tangerine argues, “Lemon and I are a team. You’re not fucking spliting us up.”

You lean forward and narrow your eyes at him, “For the sake of this mission, we’re a team. And if you have a fucking problem with that, Tangerine, I’m going to have a fucking problem with you.”

Tangerine is about to spit something else at you when Lemon interferes.

“That’s enough bickering from you two. We all have to work together, whether you like it or not. So you two best sort yourselves out now, because I swear to god, if I die ‘cos you two can’t get your shit together, I’m going to come back and kill you both.”

You turn and look at Lemon seriously, “Last I recall, I was the one that almost fucking died last time because of your shithead brother.”

(flashback)

Though it had been nearly three years since your last mission together, you could remember that night clear as day. It’d been a double-profit job- you three were assigned to attend a charity gala and steal a diamond necklace being auctioned off while also partaking in a little shill bidding to hike up the price of the necklace. A heist/scam job, in your opinion, was an easy cash-grab in comparison to your usual missions as an assassin. Tangerine and Lemon had thought so too. The plan had been simple: you and Tangerine would appear at the auction as a wealthy couple interested in buying the necklace, and drive the bidding price way up. The highest bidder would pay a hell of a lot more than the necklace was worth, and that chunk of money would go straight into the pockets of your employer.

Lemon, on the other hand, had gotten hired to be a part of the auction staff, which gave him the chance to switch out the diamonds for a fake.

You’d shown up that night in a sleek, midnight blue dress that hugged your curves and shimmered slightly like the night sky. Tangerine had worn a suit that matched in color, though it was adorned with white stripes. He’d looked really bloody good that evening and you’d hated him for it. It’d left you feeling just a little flustered and distracted- a dangerous mindset to be in on a job. The early half of the night should’ve been easy. All you’d had to do was lay on the charm thick with the wealthy folks and spread the word that the shiny, new couple was interested in the diamond necklace. Greedy as that lot was, you and Tangerine had known that you two’s feigned interest in the necklace would get it a lot of bidders.

As it turned out, the job hadn’t been so easy, not because the objective had been hard, but because Tangerine’s hands had been all over you all night. Deep down, you’d known it was all part of the appearance you were putting on, but after a while, his touching had started to get to you. The horny part of you had been delighted to have his big, calloused hands on your back and bare shoulders. But the other, more serious side of you had been uncomfortable with his touch. As a woman in the field, you’d rarely been taken seriously and were often only seen as a piece of meat. In that moment you had begun to feel the same. It’d felt like Tangerine was showing you off saying, “look how sexy and wonderful my (fake) wife is”. And as the night had progressed, those two conflicting emotions had come crashing together, leaving you angry and overwhelmed.

The auction had set off without a hitch, and the two of you had braced yourself when the diamond necklace was brought out. Once the bidding war had started, all eyes were on you two, and Tangerine’s hand had casually made its way to your thigh. That, for some reason, had been your breaking point, and you’d hissed under your breath, “Get your hand off my fucking thigh, now.”

Tangerine had only been half paying attention, too focused on the bidding going on, and so he’d only mumbled, “quiet, darling.”

That had really pissed you off and you’d begun to curse at him under your breath. You’d gone to force his hand off your thigh, and that’s when shit had hit the fan. You’d looked down for one second, and then you were on the floor, Tangerine on top of you. There’s been shouts and screams and the loud bangs of gunshots. Bewildered, you’d tried to sit up, but had instantly hissed in pain. Everything had happened so fast, you hadn't noticed the bullet that had grazed your side. The one that, you would later learn, had been aimed right at your chest until Tangerine saved you. It seemed your mission had been leaked, and people had been sent to take you three out. Though you’d only been grazed, your counterpart had forced you to stay in hiding while he’d run off to take care of the last of the men.

When the job had been finished, Tangerine had hauled you up and out to the side of the building where Lemon had been waiting with the car. It was only when you’d driven a few miles away that the shock had finally settled and was replaced with fear, anger, shame, and embarrassment. And instead of dealing with your emotions healthily, you’d lashed out at Tangerine. You and him had gotten into a screaming match- you’d blamed him for invading your space and treating you like a wounded animal and he’d called you negligent and over-emotional. The night hadn’t ended in any reconciliation, and he’d been a thorn in your side ever since.

It seemed like he always popped up at the most inconvenient times, often messing with your missions or just plain pissing you off.

Those past three years of tension culminated into your hatred for him today, and the fact that he’d somehow gotten more handsome since the last time you’d seen him didn’t help either.

(Back to present)

“Oh bloody ‘ell, here we go again,” Lemon curses.

But then, the unexpected happened.

You’re tense, biting words already at the tip of your tongue, ready to argue whatever point Tangerine makes.

Instead, he quietly says, “I wasn’t ever gonna let you die, love.”

Your heart literally stops beating in your chest for a moment, and you swear that his gaze softens a little.

“I was aware of our surroundings the whole time, and also knew you were off your game that night. Your death was never an option. I wasn’t going to allow it.”

You begin to butt in, trying to defend why you were off your game

Tangerine only interrupts you, “And you don’t need to explain to me or anyone why you were off your game. You just gotta trust that we also know what we’re doing. And you gotta trust that I- we- got your back. It’s also why I think you should be in charge of the hostage. It’s safest if Lemon and I work together to protect you while you go for ‘em. Anyhow, you yourself have said that ya work best alone .”

He turns to you and Lemon with a slightly vulnerable look on his face, “No one’s dying on this mission, I swear by it.”

If Tangerine couldn’t already tell that you and Lemon are slightly shocked by his emotional outburst, the silence that follows certainly does. You hold Tangerine’s gaze, his blue eyes piercing into yours, and a series of words seem to be exchanged:

I’m sorry.

No, I'm sorry.

Thank you.

I’ll always protect you.

In your peripheral you see Lemon shift uncomfortably in his seat and you cough, finally breaking eye contact with Tangerine and taking another drag of your cigarette.

Tangerine inhales deeply through his nose and takes a drag too.

Then he says, “Although I know you could take those men out quickly, Viper, I think we’ll work better as a team if Lemon and I can simultaneously take the guards out while you move ahead. We basically have twin telepathy and work like a well-oiled machine. Plus, you can most easily hold your own if you run into anyone on your way to the hostage.”

You wave him off, “No need to flatter me, Tangerine. You two could hold your own just as well.”

“Not from what I’ve heard,” he tells you, “Everyone’s been talking about your job in Peru.”

“Ah my moment of glory,” you say with a smirk and a roll of your eyes, “pretty sure I peaked then.”

Tangerine smiles at you a little, an actual, genuine smile, “What was it actually like, that mission? People tend to always fucking throw things out of proportion.”

“It was a solo mission where I was just supposed to take out the CEO of my client’s rival company and her guards. But it ended up being an ambush. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, of course, but Christ, it was bloody.”

“And how’d you do it all by yourself?”

“With a knife and a gun. See, im pretty good with knives. Can throw ‘em, stab, slice, the likes. I even tried something new with a knife on that mission, out of necessity.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you impatiently as he blows out another puff of smoke, “What was it?”

“Nah, too gory,” you say calmly, taking another drag of your cig.

“Love, I’m a fucking assassin too, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Using a knife, it’s different from a gun, Tangerine. It’s a lot more cruel and I’d rather not tell it to you,” you reply somewhat shyly.

“A hundred other people already know though,” he counters, “and it might change what I think of you.”

You pause, thinking over your next words carefully, “that’s what I’m afraid of. I know we’re in a nasty business, but I’d rather not have my partners think I’m a monster.”

Tangerine puts his cigarette out on the windowsill and looks at you softly, “that’s not what I meant and you know it. It’d only make me respect you more, not less.”

And then, he adds, with a teasing smirk, “not that I could respect you any less than I already do.”

You roll your eyes and suppress a giggle. A fucking giggle.

“Well I’d rather not risk it. And anyways, there’s too much pressure, now that I’ve built it all up.”

“Fucking tease,” he whispers playfully, and kicks your leg lightly under the table.

You hide your blush under the guise of looking down to put out your cigarette. When you look up, you catch Tangerine’s gaze again, and the tension is palpable.

When the waitress suddenly arrives with the food, Lemon vocalizes exactly what you’re thinking, “oh thank god. Jesus Christ.”

You dig-in to whatever the fuck you ordered, using it as a distraction from Tangerine.

*****

The rest of the dinner is quiet and, as promised, Tangerine pays. Lemon leads the way out, and you’re acutely aware of every movement of your body as Tangerine walks behind you. When you get to the door, he grabs it from Lemon before you can, and he’s so close to you his cologne makes you woozy.

When you make it out to the parking lot, Tangerine sends Lemon off to find the car while he escorts you to yours. Though you unlock your car, he opens the door for you. As you get settled, he leans against the roof, and it makes his muscles bulge deliciously.

“You be safe tonight, Viper, and I’ll see you in a few days.”

You nod, “goodnight, Jelly, don’t miss me too much.”

He winks at you, “I won’t, cos I’ll see you in my dreams tonight.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, but internally your stomach does flips.

Tangerine watches as you pull away, a sort of ache in his chest. Lemon pulls up in the car and he gets in, still thinking about you. Before he has a moment to process anything, Lemon smacks him upside the head.

“Ow, fucking shit,” he curses, “what the bloody hell was that for?”

“For being fucking whipped for The Viper, you dumb shit.”

[ornii]

|| My Kind of Crazy: 2 ||

(Sorry for taking so long for Part 2!)

Part 2: Tension (mostly Sexual, Totally diagnosed by a Real licensed Therapist.)

The Squad mount up in the Helicopter and all are strapped down and in, Red Sits between Harley and Boomerang and Flag waits. Someone else finally arrives as well, a woman. Dawning a mask and a mysterious katana.

“You're late. This is Katana. She's got my back. She can cut all of you in half with one sword stroke, just like mowing the lawn. I would advise not getting killed by her. Her sword traps the souls of its victims.” He explains, Red Hood eyes the woman, Harley extends her hand.

“Harley Quinn. Nice to meet ya. Love your perfume. What is that? The stench of death?” She smiled, Katana turned to Flag and sat next to him.

“She seems nice. Harley whispers to Red Hood, who tries to ignore Harley. Harley turns around and looks out the window.

“Ooh. Look at the pretty lights! Are you guys seeing this?” She said, Red Hood decides why not and also looks, it was black clouds, gathering nearby a square and lighting surging through it, this was bad.. very bad.

“What happened?” Deadshot turned to Flag.

“Terror attack. Dirty bombs, bad guys shooting up the place with AKs. You know, usual shit.” He said, but Flint can see though the lie, and they argue.

“Right. Yeah, you're a bad liar. I don't know if they told you, but I'm a hitman. I'm not a fireman. I don't save people.” Flint shrugs and Flag calls him out.

“Anything for a dollar, right?”

“You know the dark places, too. Don't act like you don't.”

“I'm a soldier! And you're a serial killer who takes credit cards. When the shooting starts, and it will, you'll cut and run.” Flag glares at Deadshot, Red Hood turned back to his seat. “That isn’t a terrorist attack.. you’re probably a good soldier, terrible liar.”

Bullets tear though their hull, someone down on the ground fires at them, killing the pilot and forcing the helicopter to spiral.

“Six-one is going down. Six-one is going down hard!” The vehicle crashes and begins to flip, Red Grips the seat and holds himself tight. The helicopter finally halts down and the second carrier lands and soldier flood put to assist the living crew. The S.S and Flag somehow survive with minimal damage. Red Dusts himself off and looks around, city’s evacuated. This definitely isn’t a terrorist attack, something much darker is happening.

They begin to walk though the empty street, Red taking long looks around to figure out what’s going on, before he can, he hears shouting from behind. Turning around he gripped his pistols and watched as Katana Held Boomerang by her sword, Slipknot trying to grapple and rappel away. Flag shook his head and tapped the device on his wrist, and Slips head went splat, exploding. His corpse hangs on one of his grappling hooks. A grim reminder of just how quickly his life can end.

“You wanna keep playing the Hollywood Squares version of "I'll Blow Your Fuckin Head Off"?” Flag looks at the other inmates, all silent. “You next, Deadshot?” Flags attention turns to Deadshot, who points at him. “You just threatened me? Oh, yeah. He just threatened me.”

They all continue to walk. Deadshot, Red Hood and Harley in a trio.

“All right, I'm gonna kill him.” Deadshot grumbled.

“Well, you better make it quick 'cause he's gonna kill all of us one by one.” Harley adds in.

“I'm gonna drop him, the sword lady, five or seven of these SEALs. After that, I'm gonna need some help. You down?” He asked, and Red cuts him off. “Ain’t gonna work.”

“Why not?” Deadshot replies, Red Rubs the chin of his mask Coyly. “Well.. if only had to guess, Waller isn’t the type to leave well enough alone. You kill Flag and make a break for it, she’ll probably pop your head before you reach a block. She probably has a detonator too. Watching our every move. Red Hood explained, and Deadshot stopped him from walking further.

“You seem real calm, like you already got a plan..”

“I do.. If the HVT is who I think it is, we just have to bide our time. Keep your head on your shoulders and you’ll be fine. But I can’t say that for everyone.” Red picks up the pace and walks, they cut to another block and down a collapsed street. Flag and his men move forward and take a firing line behind a police vehicle, The Squad post up behind them a few feet back, watching. Flag gives an order and a large portion of soldier split off into the alley nearby, leaving him and a few men.

“Hey. I like these odds, mate. You just say the word.” Boomerang eyes Deadshot

“Yeah, uh... Hold that thought.” Red Walks forward to see what they’re focusing on, using his helmet he activates detective mode, standing against Flags men was a soldier who looked, not human. His body oozing black liquid and his head now nothing but eyes, glaring.

“Hm.. Terrorists, right?” Red sarcastically asked Flag, who didn’t say anything. Deadshot approaches too, looking and whatever this was.

“The hell are they?”

“You cut and run, I'll blow your head off.” With a scream a chunk of the charge at the soldiers and squad and the red hood attacked, his duel pistols tearing through the stone like heads of the former soldiers. A trained soldier by Batman made easy work crushing them.

After pinning one down with a judo throw and planting a slug in their face, Red Looks up to see Flag being dragged off by four of the stone monsters, he aimed his handgun and was cut off by one dropping down onto him, his chest clams against the hard asphalt, before Red can counter, a pair of sneakers was near his face, all he heard was a grunt, swing and stone hitting the ground. He pushed the dead soldier off him to Harley toying with her bat, she turns to Flag.

“Good riddance. Am I right?” She smirks at Red, who shook his head and loaded his pistol.

“He dies, we die!” He screamed, she rolls her eyes and the two storm over, laying fire and death on the stone soldiers. Flag looked up as they help him.

“Thanks—“ He starts

“Go Fuck yourself.” Red walks off, ready to lay more fire down. But he didn’t need to, he and many others watched Deadshot mow down soldier after soldier with pin point precision. Dropping the one at a time until they all lie there full of bullets. Deadshot drops down back to the crew, walking past Flag.

“That's how I cut and run.” Deadshot catches up to Harley and Red, as he leans against a car with his arms folded, watching Harley bash in the skull of whatever these monster soldiers were.

“Having fun?” He asked Sarcastically.

“Yeah.. good stress relief.. you should try it..” Harley smashes another head.

“No im good, trying to not be a full blown psychopath id rather just watch you go crazy.” He replies, Harley stoped mid swing and turned to him with a smile.

“Oh, you don’t want to smash heads in.. but there is something I know you can~” she mocked him, which had a flirtatious tone. She stopped her swinging and approached, leaning into his helmet slightly.

“Let me guess, you wear the mask as some type of symbol against the world that’s wronged you, and you do that… by killing bad guys?” She asked.

“I kill because heroes are too weak willed to put the dogs down.”

“But if you kill like they do, makes you just as bad.” Harley finds the perfect flaw in his logic.

“It makes the world a better place.” He retorts and Harley giggled, “A Sociopath with a Savior Complex, original.”

“I am nothing like any of you..” he thought, Harley can see the gears turning in his head. She smirked, and leaned in past his helmet. “Well.. if you want we can sneak away and you can show me just how different you are—“

“E-E-Excuse me?” He stammered slightly, Harley shrugged. “It seems like you have a lot of repressed sexual tension that you need to release, and I.. also might have ulterior motives but, a wins a win right?” Harley poked his chest, and she bats her psychotic eyes, she’s crazy, his type of crazy.

“Hey. Hey, come on.” Deadshot frowns, Harley moves away from (Y/n), who was trying to play it cool under his helmet. Harley kicks the corpse.

“What? I saw it move. See? It flinched. I think. Red agrees with me, right?” Harley kicks the corpse again, Red looked at the corpse in more detail and saw something that began to set more in motion, a dog tag. He shook his head and Approached Flag. “What are they?” He said, in a slight growl.

“I don't know.”

“Bullshit. We’re shooting soldiers, your soldiers.. aren’t we?” Red said, Flag for in the face of red who wasn’t backing down. And he heard Croc’s growl. Flag backs up and walks, “We got a job to do. We're moving.” Flag walks off and leaves Red to think, He shook off the cobwebs and follows, entering the building Red Made his way to the small desk, and checks the CCTV recordings to see nothing there. Boomerang laughs

“Whoo! Looks like we have a spot of luck, eh? Be a walk in the park. Easy peasy.”

“Stop talking” Red Grumbled, he looked up to the sound of dinging, as Harley takes the one working elevator. “Son of a…” they rush up the stairs, they await at the end for Harley, the door opens to her just fine, with dead stone soldiers at her feet. She smiled, and stepped out without a scratch. They kick open the door to the office and from the ceiling soldiers drop though it, another firefight breaks out, and Red begins to notice a pattern. Specifically flag.

Their focus on him makes this story more and more complicated. As the bullets settle, the group make their way up via a flight of stars, Red followed behind slowly, and Harley looks over the railing her eyes hazy, lost, devoid of love. Red Approached from behind.

“Harley?” He asked confused, she turned and drew her handgun, the magnum aimed right at his head. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t feel fear

“… Have you ever been in love?” She asked, sad, the question actually caught him off guard. Red saw flashes of someone in his life, just for a moment.

“I did.. once, not anymore..I don’t think I can love.” He admits.

“Bullshit.. it, has to still be in there, somewhere. What changed?” And asked, and a single manic laugh ringed in his ear.

“Joker..” he said with such scorn and evil, he gripped his gun. “That’s what changed… I don’t have the innocence to love anymore. Do you?” He walked past Harley.

“I wish I do.” She replies. Red turned around and looked at her, “You really love him.. don’t you? You’re a victim.” He turned back and went up the stairs, with, pity on his heart. They go to a large floor and a door beyond it. Before they can go in, Flag turns to them.

“Wait here, Please. I don’t want to give this dude a heart attack, okay?” Flag walks to the door and with caution, enters.

“Aww he’s embarrassed of us.” Harley jokes, but Red Hood turned to Deadshot.

“Remember when I said about the HVT? You want a chance to escape, it’s through that door.” Red Points to the door, and Deadshot approaches, as if to expect some evil monster, what he got.. was much worse.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

can you do kendall roy fluff + only one bed? ☺️

Forced Proximity.

i. Only One Bed

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. oh my GOD i love this man. i am a kendall roy defender until i die. i am a kendall girly first and a human being second. (okay so admittedly I wrote this before watching episode 8... ken, me and you are gonna have words.)

Pairing - Kendall Roy x Assistant!Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - cursing

Word Count - 881

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

Another day, another business meeting.

You're in London, this time around. You and Kendall jumped on a flight at the drop of a hat, jetting across the world to appease yet another rich white man. It was part of your job description, after all. Wherever Ken goes, you go. Just him and his best assistant against the world.

You've been awake for what feels like an eternity when you finally arrive at your hotel. You'd made sure to book two conjoining rooms, as always - Kendall likes to have you close. Just in case, he says.

You practically run to the front desk, desperate to shower and jump into a fluffy white bed. The universe, apparently, has other plans.

"So that's room 414 all ready for you, ma'am."

Her English accent doesn't soften the blow of the shock as much as you expected it to.

"Wait... what? Sorry, I'm sleep deprived. I booked two conjoining rooms."

"It says here you only booked one."

"Please," you beg. "I definitely booked two. Do you at least have another room available? I'll just book it now."

She clicks away at the keyboard, acrylic nails hitting the plastic rhythmically.

"I'm really sorry. There's an event happening, it's this huge wedding and the bride is some sort of celebrity and literally every room is full."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was, ma'am."

And that's how you found yourself apologising profusely to Kendall while dragging your luggage down a never ending hotel hallway.

"God, could this day get any worse? I'm so fucking sorry, Ken."

He stops walking and turns to face you directly.

"It's fine. Stop stressing, please. You're making me fuckin' nervous."

You sigh with relief, and join him in his laughter. You can survive one night, surely.

You swing open your door, to be met with the sight of the biggest hotel bed you've ever seen. Bed. One bed.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

Kendall stays silent, slight smirk on his face. He always thinks you're at your cutest when you're mad.

"God, Ken, again, I'm so sorry. I think the universe hates us."

"You've only figured that out today?"

He chuckles, and the sound calms you down ever so slightly.

"Look, honey, we can sleep top to tail, or I'll sleep on the floor, or in the fucking bathtub. But we're both exhausted, and standing and staring at the bed isn't helping."

He's right. Fatigue is plaguing your bones, practically seeping out of your pores. You need to lie down.

"I'm not gonna make you sleep on the floor, Ken. That's the biggest bed I've ever seen. There's room for the both of us."

He can't argue with that.

You both get ready for bed, taking your respective turns. You never realised how intimate a nighttime routine can be. You feel like you're seeing a side of your boss that's reserved only for him.

You both slide into a side of the bed, making sure to put an adequate distance between you. You roll so your backs are facing each other, to save any awkwardness. Kendall turns off the light, and settles down.

"Goodnight, Ken."

"Goodnight, sweetheart."

You fall asleep the minute your head hits the pillow.

You're awoken by breathing. Not the steady, rhythmic breathing of someone asleep. No, the half panicked, willing-himself-to-sleep kind of breathing.

"Ken?" you whisper. "Are you awake? What's wrong?"

You turn to face him, and make out the shape of him lying on his back in the dark.

"Fuck, did I wake you? Sorry, honey. Just can't sleep."

"You're exhausted. Thought you'd be out like a light."

"Can I tell you something?" he questions quietly.

"Anything."

"I haven't been sleeping."

"For how long?"

"Months. Maybe like a year? I don't know. I go through phases."

"Have you talked to someone?"

"I, uh, tried to. But they wanted to give me pills. I didn't wanna take them, so."

You roll onto your back, mirroring his position. In the dark, you reach out and grab his hand that rests on the bed between you.

"Proud of you," you whisper. "Can't have been easy to say no."

He doesn't know what to say, so he simply laces his fingers with yours, and squeezes a little tighter.

"Do you think it's because you sleep alone?" you ask quietly after a while.

"Honestly? Maybe. I got used to having Rava for so long. Then Naomi. I always sleep better with someone else."

You inch closer to him, using your interlocked hands as leverage. You move so your arms are pressed against each other, your head resting on his shoulder.

"So do I," you whisper. "Don't know if it's the breathing, or the body heat, or just not being lonely. Whatever it is... you have me."

"Yeah?" he asks breathily.

"Yeah."

With that, he pulls you in to him, arms wrapping around you. You rest your head on his chest and exhale.

You settle into the comfort of the warmth of his chest. The smell of your shampoo slowly calms Kendall, his heart slowing and evening out. Within minutes, his breathing becomes steady and rhythmic, body fully relaxed. You join him in slumber almost instantly.

When you wake in the morning, Kendall tells you to only ever book one room from now on.