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lukesvangelista · 8 months ago

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𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐒, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘ˡᵉ⁷⁷

in which luke witnesses your shot at the national championship.

warnings; none that i can think of (may upset some wisconsin fans, sorry if this is too soon)

If you could tell the hockey gods to go to hell at this moment, you would not hesitate.

March 24, 2024. Whittemore Center Arena, University of New Hampshire. The University of Wisconsin vs. The Ohio State University. 2 vs. 1. A little over eight minutes left in the game. The score? 0-0.

Despite outshooting Wisconsin throughout the entire game, you had not scored a single goal. You had had a few close chances, sliding in past Wisconsin’s defensemen a few times, but just couldn’t convert. At this point, you were thanking Raygan for her outstanding performance in goal. But most definitely not the hockey gods.

The voice of Coach Muzerall fluttered through your ears as she told you all to give it everything you got. You were sure Mark Johnson was giving the same speech to his girls at the opposing bench, but honestly, you were too nervous to care. Your eyes wandered around the arena in hopes of finding the only person who could offer any comfort at the moment — Luke.

Unfortunately, Luke had missed the past few games of the NCAA tournament — even your earlier Frozen Four game against Clarkson — because of his schedule with the Preds. Luckily for you, the team was rewarded with a complete off day after their win over Detroit last night. So Luke did the only he could think of. He bought a plane ticket to Durham as soon as he landed in Nashville, and ubered to the arena in order to see you play. You woke up to a text saying that he’d be there, and were beyond excited (and relieved).

As you skated onto the ice in preparation to resume the game, you were able to locate him about halfway up in the stands. He was on his feet, decked up in his scarlet and gray apparel, with a buckeye necklace hanging around his neck. In his hands was a sign that read ‘BUCKEYES > BUCKY’. A small smile crept its way onto your face, wondering where he would have even gotten the materials to make it, but you didn’t care. His support meant everything.

After moving your eyes off of Luke, you focused on Cayla Barnes, who was stationed off to the right of you. She gave you a quick nod, and you knew she meant business. Just as you focused your attention back on the ice, the puck had dropped, with the Badgers winning the draw.

You quickly moved into your own zone, parking yourself in front of the nearest Wisconsin player, which happened to be Britta Curl. The puck passed back and forth between a few of the players before Laila Edwards ended up taking a shot. Raygan managed to kick save it out of your zone as most of your teammates went to make a line change.

They weren’t quick enough, however. Wisconsin had managed to quickly pass the puck out of their zone to center ice, where Curl was waiting patiently with her stick. The puck fell into line perfectly as she entered your zone. You rushed back as fast as you could as you saw Raygan prepare for a wrist shot, and somehow managed to poke the puck away as you tangled up with her. This time, the puck landed right on Cayla’s stick.

Cayla quickly rushed up ice as you let out a small breath. You followed suit, backing her up in case a Wisconsin player managed to steal the puck back. It didn’t take long, however, for Cayla to find Hannah Bilka at center ice, with Joy Dunne on her tail.

You held your breath as the puck landed on Joy Dunne’s stick. If there was one person who wasn’t going to fail you, it was her. She was your team’s leading point scorer with 38 points on the year (23 of which were goals), the WCHA Rookie of the Year, and the NCAA Rookie of the Year. Almost immediately, she sent the puck flying right past McNaughton’s glove and into the goal.

Cheers erupted from the ice, bench, and stands as you were swallowed up into a team huddle by the glass. Joy excitedly made an “O-H” with her hands before embracing you all and making her way to the bench. You smiled softly and looked up at the clock — 7:13 left in the third. You skated off the ice and Stephanie Markowski took your place by center ice.

Locating Luke again, a bright smile was plastered wide across his face as he watched the replay. He had met Joy, who you embraced as a little sister, when he had come to campus to visit you earlier during the all star break. Needless to say, he was proud of her, as anyone should be. What you didn’t know, however, is just how proud he was of you. Your defensive poke-check set the scoring play into motion and here you were just over seven minutes away from winning the national championship.

Time couldn’t have passed more slowly for you as the clock wound down. Wisconsin had created many more scoring opportunities, but just couldn’t convert (you had to thank Raygan once again). You were back on the ice with two minutes to go, scrambling back into the defensive zone as the Badgers pulled McNaughton in order to gain an extra attacker. Your heart raced as you saw Casey O’Brien rush onto the ice, skating swiftly towards your goal.

You knew nothing good was going to happen if you couldn’t calm down. So, as the puck was passed to Ava Murphy, you took a deep breath and raced in front of her as she wound up for a slap shot. As she let go of the puck, you dove in front of it, the puck redirecting off of your ankle and into neutral territory.

Man, did that hurt like a motherfucker. The crowd simultaneously grimaced and cheered for you as you recollected yourself off of the ice. You swear you could hear Luke’s voice yelling your name out of the entire crowd, telling you to get up and kick ass.

The puck was quickly regathered by Caroline Harvey as she circled through neutral ice, waiting for her teammates to reenter the zone. Once completed, the puck was passed to Lacey Eden as Emma Peschel tried to poke it away, but in vain. Caroline passed it to Charla Edwards, who lined up to take a shot from the blue line. None of your teammates were guarding her, so you did what you had to do. You once again skated up and prepared your body to be hit with a hard piece of vulcanized rubber. When it did, you fell to the ground, but got right back up as cheers erupted once again.

“Let’s go, Y/N!” Quinn Kuntz yelled from the bench, and you struggled to skate, but the puck had bounced right back to Edwards. Instead of trying to move around you, she wound up for another slap shot, but that one didn’t get past you either. The puck once again hit your body as you blocked the shot, falling to the ice once again. Finally, Emma was able to clear the zone as the puck raced towards the other end of the ice.

At that moment, you used your stick to propel you towards the bench. You knew you weren’t seriously injured — you’d just have a few bad bruises here and there — but your body hurt like a bitch from taking all of those shots. You were greeted with pats on the back from all your teammates on the bench as Hannah jumped back on in your place. You smiled softly as a response, focusing on the jumbotron to see the time left in the game.

One minute. If you could hold off Wisconsin for one minute, you would be a national champion. You watched anxiously as your teammates tried to clear the zone towards the now empty net of Wisconsin, but to no avail. Finally, Joy had managed to send it down the length of the ice, which forced a quick line change. You hopped on the ice with around 30 seconds left and made your way into the defensive zone yet again.

Since McNaughton was pulled, the Badgers had an extra attacker, which made it harder to defend your goal than usual. You weren’t going to give up that easily, however. The puck was passed back in forth between the six Badgers on the ice, each one of them waiting for the perfect shot. The clock wound down as the puck finally landed on Sophie Hegleson’s stick.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion. You could hear nothing as you once again forced yourself to skate in front of her, knowing that this goal would change the trajectory of the game. Your teammates were counting on you, so you were going to give it your all. You braced yourself for impact as the puck hit your back, your body sacrificing itself for the win exactly as the buzzer went off.

The game was over. You were officially a national champion. The sounds of your teammates yelling filled your ears as you let your body collapse to the ice, both in pain and in shock. You took your helmet off to gather yourself as a small smile made its way across your face. You had done it.

Emma skated over to you and pulled you up off of the ice, and you both rushed over to join the dog pile of your teammates on top of Raygan. Although you couldn’t see him, Luke was smiling down at you, a look of immense pride present on his face. He fumbled with the buckeye necklace hanging around his neck as he couldn’t contain his excitement, knowing that you were a national champion.

After you all had settled down and received your medals (but not before shaking hands and congratulating Wisconsin on their tremendous effort), you were allowed to bring family members and friends onto the ice to take pictures. As Luke made his way onto the ice, you excitedly skated over to him, and his arms were wide open to catch you. You smiled widely, your eyes shining brightly, “I did it, Luke. I really did it.”

He cupped your face with his hands, nodding his head in agreement, “You did it, my love. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

You smiled brightly up at him again, your eyes swelling with tears. Luke pulled you into another hug, gently kissing the top of your head, “Go celebrate with your teammates. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re done.” He reassured, giving you a soft smile as he wiped away some stray tears that had fallen with the pads of his thumbs. You nodded, skating over and joining Joy. When you were finally given the trophy after she did, you hoisted it high up into the air, ready to show it off to the entire world.

After all, it’s always been Ohio against the world.

liked by lukevangelista, kentjohnson.13, and others

youruser: ohio against the world ❤️🩶

view top comments

ohiostatewhky: THAT’S OUR NATIONAL CHAMPION

lukevangelista: BUCK YEAH 🌰

lukevangelista: THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND

maxmccuee: gross

lukevangelista: my girlfriend just won a national championship, what did yours do?

maxmccuee: go fuck yourself evangelista

youruser: hey now let’s stop arguing (and max i’m the only one who gets to do that with my boyfriend ☺️)

luca.fantilli: OH MY GOD

user1: y/n’s iconic lmfao

user2: LUCA 😭😭

quinnkuntz: yeah, we did that

matthewknies: how are your shins

youruser: i’m not sure you wanna know

matthewknies: fair enough have a good day

colemcward: buckeyes > badgers

_alexturcotte: cole that’s not nice

colemcward: truth hurts buddy, but keep your head up! i’m sure it’ll get better soon 😚

joyv_dunne: HELL YEAH

emmapeschel: always been ohio against the world!!!

kentjohnson.13: check the record books

youruser: hey kj you might want to focus on your 24-50 record first!

kentjohnson.13: it’s actually 24-38-12, thank you very much

youruser: so we’re actually the only team bringing honor to cbus rn, but if you keep it up maybe you can too!!

lhughes_06: HOLY SHIT

adamfantilli: unfortunately can’t argue with that so pipe down kj

kentjohnson.13: okay i’m sorry

user3: pls y/n is so funny 💀

user4: SHE’S DATING LUKE?!

youruser: …surprise?

lukevangelista: something about our friendship being firm idrk

user5: i wanna be y/n when i grow up

ncaaicehockey: honestly same

user6: ncaa what are you doing here 💀

_connorbedard: congrats!!!

alex.vlasic: connor’s big social media debut folks! be nice to him he’s a little shy

adamfantilli: CONNOR CAME OUT OF HIDING

_willsmith2: DID SOMEONE SAY CONNOR BEDARD

youruser: okay let’s take bets, if connor sees his shadow (these comments) it’s six more weeks of his social media hiatus, but if he doesn’t then we’re all blessed by his presence

youruser: (thanks connor)

nickmoldenhaur: six more weeks of winter for sure 😔

user7: i didn’t realize how funny y/n actually is she’s hilarious

brandtclarke55: nah i’m hopeful for an early spring

_connorbedard: you guys are mean

brandtclarke55: …soooo does that count as an early spring or no?

a/n; hope you all enjoy!!! i had fun with this one (also not sure why two of my imagines have revolved around ohio state but this was convenient hahaha), thanks so much for reading!!

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endcant · 7 months ago

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save a bastion for queer culture in a famously hateful city

i’ll try to write a shorter and sweeter post about this later, but for now i will just beg at length.

there is a town near me called Murfreesboro where at various points they have banned or attempted to ban public homosexuality, drag, and pride flags. for a time their county’s youth incarceration rate was 48% (contrasted with the rest of the state at 5%) due to corruption in their local courts system. every juvenile case that made it to the wrong judge resulted in the child being sent to jail, because the county commissioner thought it’d be “cool” if the jail was a “profit center” (yes these are his actual words). these are just a few examples but suffice it to say, this is a very difficult place to grow up, especially for LGBT kids.

despite all of this difficulty, the area has a remarkable alternative music scene with a few small venues where queer people and young people who don’t fit in elsewhere can genuinely have fun and feel safe for the night. despite the city’s reputation, queer people in the broader area flock to the town for raves and DIY shows. in this area, music culture is intertwined with queer culture and leftist efforts to a much greater degree than i’m used to as somebody from the middle of california.

i really admire the venues and event organizers that cultivate a safe spaces like this in a place where it is decidedly unsafe for queer people, and where the youth are constantly in danger of having their lives ruined for totally arbitrary reasons.

this is why it breaks my heart that murfreesboro is trying to shut down a venue called The Graveyard Gallery. the graveyard gallery is a place where a ton of events are constantly held for lgbt, furry, and alternative communities. it is one of very few alternative places in the broader nashville area where i have felt really, truly safe and welcome as a person of color.

most recently, The Graveyard Gallery has come under attack for attempting to hold a Trans Day of Visibility punk show, with the apt title “Trans Day of Vengeance”. Conservative media, both local and national, directed the attention of their audiences towards this event, calling it “tone deaf” to have it on easter, and to have it sort-of-kind-of-close-to-but-not-quite-on the anniversary of the shooting in nashville. All of this, of course, ignoring that the date for TDoV was set in 2009, and that this was a small DIY punk show that really bore no threat to anybody. the show had to be canceled because of credible death threats, so it didn’t even happen, but that hasn’t appeased anybody.

in the wake of this, murfreesboro’s fire marshal has suddenly decided that the building is not acceptable for occupancy and it has to close immediately and for the forseeable future. people can claim it’s unrelated, but i’ve known people to have their businesses suddenly declined by fire marshals due to sheer bigotry before, and shitty towns will just use their fire marshal to bankrupt small business owners that they don’t like. i do not speak for the owners of the gallery on this front, but i personally believe that these things are related.

all this is to say, the graveyard gallery needs to raise money for their legal fees over this matter. this venue is very important to a lot of people, and may be even more important now that the city’s music scene is in the crosshairs of massive conservative media companies.

if you can donate please do, and if you can share this, please do that as well.

thank you for taking the time to read my post. i know there’s a lot going on in the world, but music venues are where people here gather, and music venues are often also a place where people organize to make meaningful change and promote causes that i know most of you would approve of. music is at the heart of this community, and the venues are where the music lives.

#mine

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hailthegodsong · 2 months ago

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LOVE IS OLD, LOVE IS NEW

Two-Shot Part 1 ~ Daniel Wagner / Female Reader 𓅪

AN: This is a comfort fic! Danny is not the cheater! This fic changed a lot from when I started writing it to when it ended, so I hope you enjoy wherever my mind went while I wrote this…

Word Count: + 10.6k

Content Warnings: Hurt/comfort heartbreak, crying, cheating, insecurity, nudity, deprecating thoughts, intense sadness, self-isolation, boner, mentions of sexual situations, lots of skin touching including breasts (but in a non-sexual way), love confessions, mentions of sex, considerate Danny.

𓅪

“You alright?” Danny asked, pausing the movement of his fingers and ripping his intense attention from the melodic chords he had been working on, letting his acoustic guitar falter in his hands.

You looked up from your phone, “What? Oh, yeah, fine.”

You weren’t really fine. It was your boyfriend, Otis’s birthday, and you hadn’t been able to get a hold of him all day. You swiped through your text chain, seeing that your message at 7am wishing him a happy birthday was followed by an embarrassing amount of messages almost once an hour asking what he was doing, how he was doing, and if he was okay.

You had grown unbelievably restless, your anxiety bordering between genuine concern for his well being, and fear that he was shutting you out for some reason.

Though, this wasn’t completely unusual for Otis. He had always been distant, emotionally elusive in a way that left you second guessing your every move. Sometimes, he would go an entire day without a word, shutting down for reasons you could never quite figure out. You attributed it to the way he must’ve been raised, but often, and without warning, he would go into a mood. You had tried to understand, tried to make excuses for it. Maybe he just needed space. Maybe you were overreacting.

It was terribly confusing, but you’d grown used to it, trying your hardest to take note of anything that may be a consistent trigger in his moods.

Danny, who was by far your closest friend, did not approve of his behaviour at all. In fact, he didn’t approve of Otis full stop. You had grown up together, graduated together, and were now splitting the rent of some small, shitty apartment in Nashville together, and it was hard for you to conceal the faults in your relationship when Danny seemed to always be there.

“You sure? You’ve been staring at that phone all afternoon,” he argued pointedly.

You huffed and ran a hand down the side of your face, “It’s just Otis…it’s his birthday but he hasn’t texted me back all day.” You paused, and Danny set his guitar down, its neck leaning against the arm of the couch you were both seated on. “I’m getting kinda worried,” you added.

Danny’s jaw tightened at the mention of Otis, a familiar tension brewing in his stance. You knew what he thought of your boyfriend, he had never been shy about it. As your best friend since childhood, Danny had always been protective of you, and he couldn’t stand how Otis treated you. To Danny, Otis was an undeserving ghost, always there, but never really present.

But it wasn’t as if Otis treated you poorly. No, you wouldn’t be dating him if he was. He just was a bit flaky sometimes- physically and emotionally.

Danny’s brows furrowed, “That is weird. Maybe he’s just busy with friends or something?” he suggested.

You shook your head, “No, he told me he was celebrating with them on the weekend. Told me he would see me today too,” you said anxiously, biting at the corners of your nails.

“Stop that,” Danny warned, pulling your hands away from your mouth.

It was a habit you seemed to have only picked up only recently, and Danny was always quick to stop it as soon as he saw you begin to nibble at the uneven edges of the nail.

“You’re right, ‘s a bit worrying. I would be pretty worried as well. Did he go out last night?” Danny asked.

“No.” You were beginning to feel more and more nervous, anxiety flooding through your body as you wondered what was going on.

You suddenly stood, “I think I’m gonna go over to his place. Maybe he’s just been sleeping all day.”

Danny glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw that it was 5pm. He refrained from telling you he highly doubted it, not wanting to worry you any further.

“Shit,” you cursed as you looked out the window and saw that it was absolutely pouring with rain. You hurried to your bedroom to find a raincoat.

“Let me drive you,” Danny suggested, his voice now coming from his own room as he grabbed himself a sweater. You both emerged from your rooms and met in the hallway, and before you could protest he added, “Please. I don’t feel good knowing you’re driving in this weather.”

You scoffed, “Underestimating my driving skills, Wagner?” You carried the gifts you had bought Otis, including the bouquet of flowers into the living room with you and placed them on the table next to your handbag.

“Maybe,” Danny teased and you rolled your eyes at him playfully.

It took less than five minutes to gather your things. The bouquet of flowers, a few small wrapped gifts, and your handbag. Once you had hastily gotten your things in order, Danny grabbed his car keys off the table and opened the front door for you.

“Need me to hold anything?” he asked, watching in amusement as you fumbled with the flowers, presents, your bag and your phone.

You laughed, “Yes please.”

He took the flowers and a few gifts from your arms and you both descended the long, winding stairs wordlessly until you were in the shared car park.

“I’m sure it’s all fine,” Danny assured he held the door open for you to get into the car.

“Yeah me too. Just really wanna see him, you know?” You immediately regretted saying it once the words left your mouth.

You usually tried to keep the Otis conversation minimal with Danny, knowing that he didn’t really like him. Danny hummed anyway, despite his disagreement, and started the car before reversing out of the garage. He handed you your favourite Beatles CD for you to put into the stereo while he drove, and you felt overwhelmingly appreciative of his attentiveness.

You wanted to believe that nothing was wrong, and that Otis just hadn't had a chance to look at his phone yet. But with each mile closer to Otis’s apartment, the pit in your stomach grew heavier, and the knot in your chest tighter. Each time you checked your phone, there was no new message. No missed calls. Nothing.

Throughout the drive, it was clear to you that Danny was trying his hardest to keep you from overthinking. You felt like he didn’t stop talking for the majority of the ride, telling you about the latest disagreement between Josh and Jake and how he, like usual, had to save the day with his mediation skills. He managed to make you laugh too, always knowing just what you needed when you weren’t feeling your absolute best.

You had to direct Danny the way there, which was quite difficult thanks to the bucketing rain that restricted visibility of anything twenty metres in front of you.

Eventually you made it to his apartment, and Danny pulled over on the side of the road to drop you off, seeing as there was no carpark for him to stop in.

“Alright, be safe please. Text if you need anything,” Danny recited, the words he told you each time you parted. It had been that way since you could remember.

“I will! Thanks for the lift!”

Balancing your things in your arms, you quickly jumped out of the car to not hold up and more traffic.

Danny drove off when one of the impatient cars behind him gave him a beep for taking so long. You rushed up to Otis’s apartment building front door, bullets of rain almost soaking you completely as you covered the short distance.

Your shoes splashed heavily on the street which had become one big puddle. You sighed when you finally reached the building, protected from the rain by the large overhang that wrapped around the large building.

As you made your way into the apartment and climbed the levels to his, you glanced at your phone once more to check if he had messaged you, and frowned when there was nothing. A little puffed, you finally reached his unit. Before you knocked, you peeked a glance at the crack at the bottom of the door where a light was beaming through. So he was home.

You bit back a shiver as you raised your hand and pressed the doorbell. You always liked the tune Otis’s doorbell made. It was quite unconventional, not the normal tune they made and not a jarring ring either, but a nice melody all the same.

You hugged yourself tightly in the cold as you awaited a response, and when you didn’t get one, you rang the doorbell again. Finally, the front door swung open, and you were met with Otis, his slim figure on full display as only a pair of white and blue striped boxers hung low on his hips.

You smiled brightly, despite his state of undress and the fact that he had neglected speaking to you all day. “Happy birthday!” you exclaimed.

He shot you a quick, tight smile, before his face turned serious, eyes scanning the scene behind you. “Thank you Baby, but uh… what are you doing here?” he asked.

You faltered, “What do you mean?”

He looked at you as if you had done something ridiculous, “Well we didn’t plan anything. I hadn’t exactly said you could come over.”

You took a step back into the hallway, “Oh, I just thought that…”

You were mortified. But you were also incredibly upset. It was his birthday, but you had still felt some kind of obligation that he at least see you on the special day. He was your boyfriend after all.

“I got worried. You weren’t responding,” you explained, feeling a deep set frown fall to your face.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, and you suddenly became very aware of his positioning. He was standing in the doorway, hands on either side of the frame and letting the door hang almost closed behind him while he stepped marginally closer in each moment and effectively backed you further away from the entrance.

“Yeah well, I just got caught up in something.”

Just as you were about to ask what, a slender hand, adorning deep red acrylic nails raked across his bare abdomen.

“Baby, what’s taking you so long?” a sultry voice asked, and you could see longer dark hair peeking behind his body.

Unable to believe your eyes, your mouth parted in silent shock, face dropping in realisation, and you peered over his shoulder to see the most beautiful woman you had ever seen, clad in only her underwear behind him.

Blinking, you watched as his face morphed into course red embarrassment, and his eyes widened in fear.

“Oh,” you stated.

“No Baby, it’s not what it-” he started, moving towards you to take your arm.

“Stop it. Don’t,” you shook his hands off you, “Don’t touch me.”

Tears instantly welled in your eyes and the lump in your throat felt like it was going to choke you.

“Wha- why?” you managed to choke out. He looked at you sympathetically, but before he could open his mouth, the woman behind him appeared at his side.

If you thought her face was gorgeous, her body was bound to make you pass out. Her breasts were full and round, and her slim, toned waist was a beautiful compliment. Her hips widened at just the right spot, and were void of dips or stretch marks, and it suddenly became glaringly obvious to you where everything had gone wrong.

She gave you a harsh look up and down, assessing your clothing and you could only assume your body. Your arms crossed over your front in insecurely, now regretting the old coat, faded jeans and casual shoes you had thrown on in your state of worry and anticipation.

You hiccuped a sob back when she placed a hand on his chest and leaned up to whisper something in his ear. Otis, to his credit, looked wildly uncomfortable by her actions and tried to shrug her off, looking at you pleadingly.

You couldn’t see any more. You couldn’t stand there for another second longer or you were going to explode.

You wished you were more angry. You should have been furious, yelling at him and ripping your keys out to key his car. But instead, you felt a deep pit of sadness in your belly. The type of pit that drags everything down with it. The type of pit that consumes all it can from its host just to continue its relentless torment.

You needed to get the fuck out of there.

Breathing turned shakey, you turned and walked so quickly down the hallway that you thought you were going to pull a hamstring.

Otis called your name from behind you, and you thanked the Gods that he was too naked to follow you. You descended the stairs in a daze, hot tears running down your cheeks, but you were too focused on getting out that you knew you needed to hold them back.

Once you made it to the building's exit, you realised that you were still cradling the birthday presents you had bought him. In an act of anger, you stormed out of the complex and threw them in a heap onto the grass beside the door, letting all the money you had wasted on him get destroyed under the unforgiving downpour of rain.

Then you realised you were also in the rain. And you were getting soaked. You quickly pulled your phone out and pulled up Danny’s contact to call him.

Restricted sobs began to shake your body, and you were having an incredibly hard time maintaining your composure, if you could even call it that anymore.

The phone only rang twice before Danny’s voice spoke through the speakers.

“Hey, what’s up,” he answered casually. You could hear his car keys hitting the little key bowl you had by the front door, indicating he had quite literally just gotten home, making you feel even worse about asking him to come and pick you up.

He called your name in question when you didn’t respond.

“Did you- did you just get home?” you asked, trying feebly to conceal the emotion in your voice, but the sobs and sharp inhales did close to nothing in helping.

“Fuck, are you okay? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he asked frantically, and you could hear the keys jingle again, accompanied by the front door slamming shut.

“I’m,” you tried to say through broken sobs, “I’m okay. I just need- can you come and pick me up? Ple- please?”

“I’m already on my way.” True to his word, you could hear the engine vibrating in the background of the call. “Please tell me what happened. Are you safe?” he asked frantically.

You nodded, before realising that he couldn’t actually see you, “I’m- I’m okay. Just cold,” you began scanning the area, looking for a spot you could stand that was concealed from the rain.

There was no way you were going back inside the complex building, and you quickly realised that your best bet was a tree nearby. You hastily made your way over, sneakers getting ruined in the dirt, each step accompanied by a squelch. The rain wasn’t as relentless under the cover in the tree, but thick drops still fell and coated your skin, hair and clothes. You were shivering violently now, wondering why on earth you hadn’t brought an umbrella.

"Where are you?" Danny's voice was soft but laced with concern.

"Same place you dropped me off," you muttered, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. It wasn't hard to guess that Danny probably knew something had gone wrong with Otis. But you could bet he'd never imagine the full extent of it.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you could sense Danny was biting his tongue, holding back from asking the questions swirling in his mind. He knew better than to press you when you were like this, though. Whatever had happened, it wasn't good. That much was obvious.

"Okay, honey, I’m nearly there. Can you try taking some deep breaths while you wait for me, please?" His voice was steady, trying to ground you through the phone. It was only then that you became aware of the sound of your own ragged, gasping sobs.

"Ye-yes... okay." You forced yourself to breathe deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, but each inhale felt heavy, the weight of your chest pressing down harder with every beat of your racing heart. You tried to follow Danny's request, but every time your pulse began to slow, your mind betrayed you. You couldn't stop the image from flashing in your head, those sharp red acrylic nails raking across his chest.

Your stomach churned, nausea rising as you cursed your vivid imagination. What would those hands look like wrapped around his neck, or worse, holding his hand? What would those nails look like tracing against his skin, trailing down his back in the heat of the moment as she whispered his name in his ear? The thought made your blood run cold, and tears welled up in your eyes once again.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the thoughts to vanish. But they clung to you, persistent and cruel, reminding you of everything you were afraid to face. It wasn’t just the physical imagery, either. It was the emotional betrayal of the way his eyes might soften when he looked at her, the way he might laugh at her jokes. She probably made him feel something you couldn’t. And he had probably been slipping away for quite some time.

A broken sob escaped your lips, and you clenched your fists at your sides, wishing you could stop thinking about it, wishing you could stop hurting. You knew Danny was close, but the minutes felt like hours. You hated how powerless you felt, sitting there, cold and waiting, suffocated by your own thoughts.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is it’s okay it’ll be okay. I’m nearly there, just hang on a little longer for me, okay?” Danny repeated, hearing your breathing pick up again.

You crouched on the dirt to hug some warmth into you, humming in response to his question. “Danny, can you- can you put the heat on in the car… please. I’m really cold,” you asked and you immediately heard him shuffle with the knobs on the dashboard.

“Are you- are you in the rain?” he asked with urgency.

“I was… I’m standing under a tree now.”

He sighed, “Okay I’m rounding the corner now, can you see me?” he asked and you looked up at the road. True to his word, you could see his black car nearing you as it sped down the road.

“Yes.” You got up and quickly walked to the edge of the street. The rain soaked you again, and you abandoned even attempting to cover your head from its assault.

He pulled up to you at record breaking speed, and breaked harshly beside you on the road. You swung the door open and practically fell into the passenger seat, being immediately engulfed by the warmth of the car.

You slammed the door shut, and muttered a small ‘sorry’ through your shudders as you did up your seat belt.

Being a busy street, Danny had to take off as soon as you were buckled up, and you looked down at the water dripping off your shoes into the car.

“Fuck, you’re soaked,” he commented, as you tried to take off your top jacket to avoid completely soaking his seats.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, trying to keep your back from the seat to not soak the interior of his car. He had already given you a lift to and from Otis’s house, and the least you could do was not ruin his car in the process. You were trying your hardest to withhold the sobs, but hot tears mixed with the wetness of your face as the lump in your throat began to burn.

“Honey…” Danny comforted when he saw your emotional state. He found the closest quiet street and pulled over on the side of the road.

As soon as the handbrake was on and the car was in neutral, Danny turned to you, clipping off his seatbelt to reach you better. He reached to unclip your seatbelt too, and without hesitation, he pulled you into his arms.

Though it had been steadily trickling since you left Otis’s house, the dam completely broke when you felt the familiar and comforting embrace of Danny. He rubbed soothing strokes up and down your soaked back with a soft flat palm, his hand shuddering against each shaky breath you took.

“Are you hurt? I need to know you’re okay, physically,” he asked, still keeping you tight in his arms.

“I’m not hurt. I’m okay,” you sobbed, clutching at his shirt behind his back.

“Shhh,” he cooed as your sobs continued, “What’s going on? What happened?”

You pulled away from him, slipping back into your seat and wiping furiously at your red and wet eyes. “There was,” you shuddered, “There was a woman,” you explained, eyes now trained on the window wipers that feebly tried to push away the waves of water that fell from the sky, “They were both naked.”

“What?” The volume of his voice was jarring in the otherwise silence of the car. You dared not speak, feeling embarrassed and ashamed. Danny had warned you that Otis wasn’t a good person, but you had ignored him, and you were now putting the weighted burden of your mistake on his shoulders.

Danny ran a frustrated hand through his hair and you kept your eyes before you, silent tears now running down your cheeks.

“She’s really pretty,” you added, and Danny eyed you carefully. He stared at you for a long time, as if trying to see through your skin and into your brain to read every thought that was running through your mind. When he couldn't find anything other than self-loathing and depreciation, he ran a hand through his hair.

“I- fuck I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

You shook in the cold as you stared out the window, unspeaking as silent tears rolled down your cheeks. When he realised you weren’t going to respond, he turned in his seat again and popped the car back into gear before he continued the drive home. He was watching your body shake violently from the cold and knew that as much as he wanted to hold you until you were better, you needed to get out of your wet clothes and into something warm and dry.

“Don't do that,” Danny said, pulling your thumb away from your mouth as you attacked the skin around it.

“‘M sorry,” you muttered with a sniffle, pulling your hands to your lap and fiddling with your fingers instead.

“Don’t need to apologise.”

You were quiet for the rest of the ride. You replayed the moment over and over in your mind, looking back on how he had blatantly told you that he didn't want you there, that you weren’t invited. All because there was another woman. Had she always been there? Was she just a one night stand or had he been cheating on you for longer?

Danny bit his cheek each time he heard you sniffle, every small sound cutting through him like a knife. He glanced over at you, watching as you hastily wiped your eyes, your fingers trembling with the effort of holding yourself together. The sight of you in pain made his chest ache, and every time your hand darted up to your face, he wished he could reach out, pull you close, and wipe your tears away for you. But he didn’t want to push, didn’t want to smother you when you were clearly teetering on the edge.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel as he navigated the darkening streets, the quiet hum of the car engine doing nothing to soothe the thick tension in the air. You sat next to him, staring out the window, barely moving, but he could see the steady stream of tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. They glistened in the streetlights as you passed them, and he wanted to say something, anything, but he knew no words could fix what you were feeling.

The ride home felt agonisingly long, each second dragging on as Danny tried to focus on the road and not the heart-wrenching sight of you unravelling beside him. He kept biting his cheek, hard enough to taste blood now, but he couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at you every few seconds, praying you’d somehow find a little bit of peace before they made it home.

When Danny finally rolled into the parking spot, the familiarity of your apartment complex looming ahead caused the tears that had slowed for a brief moment on the drive started to pour again, the sight of home making everything worse. The thought of being so close to your bed, to the space where you could collapse and let yourself fully break was overwhelming.

Your breath hitched, and you hugged your arms around yourself, trying to stop the shivering that had taken over your body. The cold had seeped into your bones, making you shake uncontrollably, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the freezing rain that had soaked through your clothes or the sadness that seemed to settle deep in your chest.

Danny killed the engine and turned to you, eyes soft and full of worry. “Let’s get you inside, okay?” His voice was gentle, but the concern was clear. He didn’t wait for you to respond, opening his door quickly and jogging around to your side, pulling open the passenger door.

“Come on, I’ve got you,” he murmured, offering his hand to help you out of the car. You hesitated for just a second, but the exhaustion in your body won out, and you took his hand, letting him guide you. As you stepped out, your legs wobbled beneath you, and without a second thought, Danny wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

You leaned against him, your sobs becoming louder now that you were out of the confined space of the car. His warmth was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the tidal wave of emotion that had hit you. As he helped you up the steps to the apartment, you clung to his sweater, your cold fingers digging into the fabric as if you could hold onto him and stop yourself from spiralling.

Each step felt heavy, the weight of your sadness pressing down on you like a physical force, and you stumbled a little as you climbed. Danny tightened his grip on you, steadying you with every step, whispering quiet reassurances even though he wasn’t sure you could hear them over the sound of your own sobbing.

You weren’t crying for any reason now, yet it felt like your emotional capacity was a heavy ball that had been pushed off a hill. Once it started rolling, you couldn't stop.

Once inside, the warmth of the apartment hit you, but it did nothing to thaw the ice in your bones. You barely registered Danny closing the door behind you, his arm still around your shoulders as he led you deeper into your apartment. Despite his support, your mind had already begun its familiar descent into destructive thoughts. If Otis didn’t want you, then who would? The rejection felt like a punch to the gut, and the more you thought about it, the more it hurt.

Without a word, you pulled away from Danny, feeling the loss of his warmth immediately but ignoring it as you left him standing in the middle of the living room alone. You made a beeline for your bedroom, your body moving on autopilot. The door clicked shut behind you, and even though there wasn’t a lock, you knew Danny wouldn’t come in. He respected your space, your boundaries, but that knowledge only made the ache in your chest deepen. The loneliness pressed in harder, suffocating.

Inside the sanctuary of your room, you didn’t care that you were drenched to the bone, or that your clothes clinging to your body uncomfortably. The cold had long since numbed your skin, and now it was creeping into your muscles, making your limbs ache with a dull, persistent throb. You shivered violently, your teeth chattering so hard they ached, but it was a distant sensation compared to the emotional storm raging inside you.

You toed off your soaked shoes, not even bothering to untie them properly. Normally, the thought of tracking dirt or water onto your bed would have horrified you as your bed was your sacred space, always spotless, always prepared for sleep in clean pyjamas after a long shower. But tonight, none of that mattered. Your mind was too far gone, too consumed by the thoughts that swirled around relentlessly.

You crawled onto the bed without a second thought, the damp sheets immediately sticking to your wet clothes. The fabric clung to your skin, cold and uncomfortable, but it didn’t register. All you could think about was curling into the tightest ball possible, as if making yourself small enough would somehow make the pain disappear.

The sobs wracked your body violently, each one more painful than the last. You pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the sound, but it didn’t stop the flood of tears from soaking the fabric. Your whole body trembled, not just from the cold, but from the anguish that had taken over.

And still, despite the physical discomfort, despite the relentless sobbing, your mind couldn’t stop fixating on Otis. You kept replaying every word he’d said, every look, every action that made you feel like you weren’t enough. You kept thinking about how he didn’t want you, how he didn’t choose you. That gut wrenching feeling of rejection echoed through you like a broken record, and no matter how much you tried to push it away, it lingered.

But it wasn't the loss of Otis that hurt you so much as the feeling of being left behind for someone better. Your self esteem had plummeted, all feelings of security and trust torn apart with no remorse.

Minutes passed, maybe longer, until you were dimly aware of the soft knock on your door, Danny’s voice drifting through the wood gently.

"Hey… I'm just gonna leave some dry clothes outside your door, okay?" he said, his voice calm but clearly worried. You didn’t respond, too lost in the flood of emotions, but you heard him shuffle around outside before retreating.

A little while later, Danny returned, seeing the pile of clothes left outside untouched. He called your name gently with a brush of his knuckles against the wood, “Can I come in?” he asked cautiously.

“No,” you called out, muffled in the pillows your face was buried in.

He hesitated in the silence. “I don’t— I think you need to get out of your wet clothes,” he commented, voice still quiet behind the door. “You might get sick.”

“Don’t tell me what to do. I’m an adult, I’ll do what I want,” you snapped.

You had no idea where that outburst had come from. You immediately felt guilty as you imagined how Danny would have recoiled at your words and tone of voice. It was glaringly obvious to both you and Danny that you were only acting hostile as a way to protect yourself. Protect the fragile feeling of trust you had so carefully maintained throughout your life.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that… you can come in,” you said so quietly, that Danny may not have even heard you.

Though with heavy caution, Danny reached down to twist the handle. He knew you didn't mean what you were saying. You were hurt, and had been betrayed in arguably the worst way someone could be. He knew you just needed someone to be in your corner.

You didn't dare look behind you at Danny as he entered your room, and instead kept your head buried in your pillows.

“Hey,” he whispered, and you felt the edge of your bed dip as he sat down. He reached out hesitantly, and put his warm palm on your bare arm. He flinched the feeling of your skin, chilled from your still soaked clothes. “Shit, you’re freezing,” he commented.

With your back still turned, you stared blankly into the plush pillows in front of you, your eyes fixated on the growing wet stain spreading across the fabric. You couldn’t distinguish if it was from your soaked hair or the relentless flow of tears that you had cried. Your pillowcase, usually soft and comforting, now felt cold and uninviting, just another reminder of the misery that clung to you like the dampness in your clothes.

Your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, each one laboured as you tried to suppress the sobs that threatened to rise again. The wet patch in front of you seemed to expand with every tear, but you couldn’t muster the energy to wipe your face or even shift positions.

Everything felt heavy. Your body, your heart, your thoughts. It was as though the weight of everything Otis had said, everything you felt, was sinking into that single spot on the pillow, and no matter how long you stared, it wouldn’t disappear.

“Hey,” he carefully pulled you away from your thoughts. Sniffling, you rolled over to face him, and his heart ached at the sight of you. Eyes and lips swollen, red and raw from your crying, and incessant rubbing.

“Will you please change into something warmer?” he asked, eyes soft and genuine as he stared at you, his thumb stroking against the cold skin of your arm, “I can help you if you need,” he added. You sighed, hard and long before pushing yourself up from your bed into a sitting position.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, letting your head fall into your hands as you groaned, “This is such a mess.”

You looked back up again, assessing the damage you had done to your bed, which carried the consequences of you collapsing in it while still wet. Danny got up quickly, taking the clothes he had left for you outside of your bedroom door and bringing them to you at the bed.

“I think a warm shower would do you good,” he suggested, “It’ll help you warm up quicker.” The thought of the warm water pouring over your tired and cold muscles seemed like heaven, but now that he was here, you didn't want Danny to leave.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, moving to get up from your bed. Danny rushed out of your bedroom and searched through your shared hallway cupboard for the softest towel he could find.

He watched as you slowly emerged from your bedroom, posture slumped and insecure, arms wrapped securely around your body. Your jeans and top clung to your body tightly from the slick, and your hair left a wet residue on your neck.

“I can put the towel in the dryer for you while you shower. That way when you get out it’ll be nice and warm,” he suggested. His attention to detail made you smile.

Though his offer was kind, you knew what you wanted more than a warm towel. The thought that came into your mind was absurd, and could very possibly make Danny uncomfortable by crossing the boundaries of your friendship that you had both treaded in all those years. But you didn’t want— you couldn’t be left alone, or you feared you would curl up onto the cold tile floors and cry until you died.

“What's up?” he asked, hand raising to the side of your face to thumb away the remaining tears left on your cheeks. You glanced up at him shyly, trying to reign the confidence to ask him the question.

He frowned at the look of conflict on your face as you debated with yourself, “Hey. Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can tell me anything, you know that,” he offered with a kind smile. That same smile that had dried your tears too many times over the years, “‘S only me.”

You took a deep breath, “I just… I don’t know how to say this. I don’t want you to leave me alone. I want— I’m scared of being left alone again,” you admitted though still skirting around the truth of your sudden discomfort.

“I won't ever leave you alone, you know that. I’m always here for you,” he comforted, stroking your wet hair away from your face in a way that felt so intimate, so domestic, that you nearly began to cry again.

“That’s not… that’s not what I mean.” You took a deep, steadying breath, “Will— um, will you come with me?” you added in a mumble, cheeks heating at your question.

He cocked his head in confusion, “Come with you where?”

You swallowed thickly in embarrassment, physically unable to say the words. You were ready to dismiss it, and tell him it didn't matter when realisation struck his face.

“You mean… come with you to shower?” he asked quietly, surprise reigning his features at your admittance.

You were a fool. You had just ruined the relationship you had with your boyfriend, and you were already on track to do the same with your best friend.

“I— I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I suggested that, seriously, just forget it, I—”

“No, no, stop. I… I’m happy to… if uh, if that’s what you need,” Danny answered, his heart thumping in his chest at your suggestion. This was a boundary that neither of you had ever crossed. Sure you had seen each other close to nakedness before, but only by pure accident or in the form of skimpy swimwear.

Both of you knew that doing this was different. Even suggesting it had changed something between the two of you, and it had brought to life the truth that you had both been hiding beneath platonic smiles for your whole lives.

You couldn't look at him, and instead looked at the towel he held tightly in his hands, “Are you sure?” you asked quietly.

Jaw tight and eyes cautious, he nodded silently. “You go and get started, and I’ll uh, join you in a minute, okay?” he suggested and you tucked a tuft of hair behind your ear.

“Okay,” you whispered. As you turned to walk away, nerves swelling in your stomach at your decision, Danny cleared his throat again.

"Are you... do you want me to keep my... um, boxers on?" Danny’s voice was as gentle as ever, like slow dripping honey that coated each word with the tenderness you had come to depend on. It was just Danny, always so considerate, always thinking of how to make you feel comfortable, especially in moments as vulnerable as this.

The question, though spoken with the utmost care, still startled you. Your heart skipped, and you felt a small flutter of uncertainty rise in your chest. You feared that whatever answer you gave might lead to discomfort, but there was a deep, aching need inside you to be close to him. Closer than you had ever been before. Something unspoken tugged at you, a silent yearning to connect with him in a way that transcended the physical.

"If you want. But I don't mind if you don't," you murmured, your voice softer than you intended, as if afraid the wrong words might break the fragile atmosphere.

Before he could respond, you turned and made your way down the hallway to the bathroom, the soft patter of your footsteps against the floor the only sound echoing in the quiet apartment. You gently swung the bathroom door shut, leaving it ajar just enough to let him know that he was welcome. You twisted the shower tap, letting the heavy stream of hot water fill the shower, the sound of it pounding against the tile, a soothing background hum that drowned out the noise in your mind.

Your clothes clung stubbornly to your body as you peeled them off, each article of fabric a reminder of the evening's cold and the emotions that had seeped into your bones. The chill in the air bit at your exposed skin, and a violent shiver wracked your body, leaving you trembling as you stood naked in the dim bathroom. You barely spared a glance in the mirror, catching only a fleeting, distorted reflection of yourself, a body that tonight, felt uglier than it ever had. The blotchy redness from your sobs clashed with the paleness of your cold skin, and you looked away quickly, unable to face the image.

Stepping into the shower, you sighed deeply as the hot water cascaded over your head, the sensation washing away the lingering chill. It was a simple pleasure, the heat sinking into your scalp, down your neck, and through your entire body. You tipped your head back, allowing the water to flow over your face, burning just enough to be distracting, before it slid down your shoulders and over the curve of your breasts. For a brief, blissful moment, you forgot about Otis, the heartbreak, the insecurity, everything.

Danny's soft footsteps padding into the bathroom snapped you back to reality, and your heart gave a nervous flutter as you saw his silhouette through the thin shower curtain. You turned your back to him, yet could still feel his presence as he shuffled with his things by the countertop, your senses heightened by the silence in the room. As he approached, the shower curtain shifted slightly, letting in a sliver of cool air that made you shiver again, but this time not entirely from the cold.

Wordlessly, you stepped forward, making room for him under the stream of water, and you heard his deep, contented exhale as the warmth enveloped him. You felt a shy smile tug at your lips, though you didn’t dare turn around. The thought of exposing yourself fully to him was daunting, even though you had never felt safer with anyone else.

Reaching up, you grabbed the bottle of vanilla shampoo, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggled to maintain your composure. But before you could open the bottle, you felt Danny’s warmth behind you, not close enough to touch, but enough for you to feel his steady, comforting force and hot, heavy breath by your ear. He reached over your shoulder, his hand brushing yours as he gently took the bottle from you. The touch was brief, but electric, sending a ripple of warmth through your chest.

"Let me," he offered, his breath tickling the skin beside your ear. The shampoo bottle clicked open, the scent of vanilla filling the air as Danny lathered up the shampoo by rubbing it between his large hands.

You stood still, your heart pounding in your chest as his hands moved to your head, slowly threading into your locks and pressing to your scalp. His fingers were strong but somehow gentle as ever, working the shampoo into your scalp in slow, deliberate motions, in a way that made your knees weak. You let out a whispered groan, the sound escaping before you could stop it as your body relaxed under his touch.

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as he continued to wash your hair. His fingers traced soothing patterns against your scalp, moving with such care that you felt your chest ache with emotion. This wasn’t just an act of kindness. It was love. Pure, unspoken, and unconditional.

This was no longer just about getting clean either, you realised; this was something else entirely. The both of you, stood there, completely exposed, completely vulnerable, and yet there was no awkwardness and no sense of pressure or expectation. It wasn’t sexual, but it wasn’t entirely platonic either. It was something deeper, something built on years of quiet affection, of love that had been waiting patiently for the right moment to reveal itself.

He soon rinsed his hands under the water, and touched your shoulder gently as he pulled you back under the stream. He aided with washing the shampoo out of your hair with his hands, running through your scalp and squeezing at your hair as the soapy suds travelled down your hair and down to his feet.

You had completely forgotten about Otis, you realised, as Danny reached up to grab the bottle of conditioner, doing the same as before but only raking the product through the ends of your hair.

Your breathing was heavy, and you suddenly felt the urge to cry again, but not out of sadness this time. You turned around to face him, feeling no insecurity over the exposure of your bare body when his burning gaze remained on your face.

“Danny…” you started, frowning at the overwhelming feeling of your new realisation. Your face told him everything he needed to know, eyebrows pinched in desperation, and tears brimming at your eyes.

To your lack of knowledge, Danny had always felt a way for you that he shouldn’t have, loving you silently in the shadows under platonic guise. After years of yearning, only now did he see that you could finally feel it too. Be it only an inkling of affection, it was enough to make his heart skip.

He reached up and cupped your cheek, “I know, sweet girl.” He nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek lovingly, and you leaned into his touch. When he let go, you dropped your head, hanging it low between your bodies, your eyes closed in exhaustion.

Danny stepped forward slowly, his feet splashing against the pool of water at your feet, and he engulfed you in the embrace of his long arms. Your head fell into the spot between his arm and chest, and that same arm came up to cradle your head. You could feel his other bare arm on your back, your breasts pressed against his chest and you flushed at the proximity.

You desperately tried to hold him too, arms wrapped around his abdomen and folded up to hook your hands over his shoulders. You didn't notice the tears that flowed from your eyes, as they became one with the water that flowed between you both.

“Danny,” you whispered. He nuzzled into your hair, a comforting gesture that made your heart race.

“Hmm?” he replied softly, encouraging you to continue. The moment hung heavy in the air, filled with unspoken feelings.

The feeling was so overwhelming, that you realised you could no longer pretend to be just friends, as the desire to love him loudly completely consumed you.

Finally, you spoke, your confession bursting forth like a long held secret, “I think I love you.” The words tumbled out, raw and unfiltered, a rush of emotion that felt both exhilarating and terrifying.

You felt his stomach tighten at your words, and he pulled back slightly to gaze down at you. You raised your head from his chest to meet his eyes to see them pleading in wonder. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. For so long, he had admired the beauty of your soul in silence, waited in suppressed agony, fearing that revealing his feelings would push you away. Your company was always enough for him to keep his feelings hidden, as just being near you to hear your laughter, your mind and your soul, had been more than enough.

But now, you were uttering the words he had dreamt of telling you for what felt like his whole life.

“Always,” he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. His sincerity washed over you like a warm embrace. He tucked your wet hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I always have.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, searching his for confirmation. “What?” you managed to ask, your voice breaking. Instead of answering, Danny leaned down, closing the distance between you, and held his face close to yours. He lingered for a moment, as if giving you time to pull away, before he brought his lips to yours in a gentle caress.

His lips were soft and slow against yours, hesitant and testing at the new sensation. Neither of you could believe what was happening, and you marvelled at the intimacy of the moment, the tenderness. Never would you have thought this would be how you ended up, and now that it was happening, there was no going back.

Danny's hands rested hesitantly beside you, ghosting your skin as he resisted the urge to touch you, as he was painfully aware of your state of undress and didn't want to cross any boundaries. You took them into your own hands, and pulled them to rest on the sides of your waist. He gripped the skin softly at the sensation.

Your mouths explored each other, and you reached your hands up to tangle in his hair as you revelled in the new feeling. It felt as if you had searched every corner of Danny, as your years of friendship had taught you things about him even his family didn't know, yet this was unexplored territory.

Danny pulled away with a deep inhale, and he took in the sight of your flushed face, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. A small smile crept onto his face at his realisation of what had just happened.

“You’re so beautiful, d’ you know that?” he whispered, hand gliding up and down the curve of your waist. You looked down shyly, at both the compliment and your own understanding of what had just happened.

“You are too,” you mumbled quietly, a blush tinting your cheeks. You could no longer look at Danny without your heart exploding, and when he smiled a bit wider at your words, you turned back around, reaching for the body wash and fiddling with the cap.

Danny was more hesitant to offer helping you clean your body than he was your hair, ever considerate of your boundaries. You had both taken huge steps in mere minutes, and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel rushed.

You of course knew this, and decided that your bold streak hadn’t ended yet. “Would you… help me with this one too?” you asked quietly, turning to look up at Danny through your lashes.

“Anything,” he answered with a nod, taking the bottle from your hands gently and pouring the soapy substance over his hands. You could tell he was still hesitant, the act of touching you was clearly daunting for him, and you tried your best to show him you were okay. You nodded at him to go ahead, and he gingerly reached his hands to your shoulders, massaging the product over them, pulling your arms out horizontally so that he could lather it across them too.

Avoiding the obvious, his hands dragged back up your arms and to your back. You turned for him, letting his strong fingers knead into your muscles, making you hum in approval, head dropping forward at the feeling. He tucked your hair over your right shoulder to move it out of his way. His hands travelled over the expanse of your back, fingers dipping into your dimples of venus, but not treading any further before he pulled them back up, running long stripes either side of your spine.

His hands travelled around your waist then, and you turned again for him as the warmth of his hands spread over your stomach, sides and ribs, hesitating just below your breasts.

Your stomach flipped as you became aware now that his gaze was not holding its respectful attachment to your face, and was now all over your chest, trying to touch you anywhere but there.

You bit your cheek, and slowly reached up to take his hand that was settled on your ribs into yours. His eyes zoned in on your own as you dragged his hand up your body and rested it on your breast.

“It’s okay,” you told him. To say that these moments were not entirely sexual anymore would be untrue. And you’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t caught glimpses of his situation down below, despite your efforts to keep your gaze above his waist.

Breath heavy, and feeling like he would pass out any moment, Danny tenderly ran his hands over your breasts, rounding at the swell and dipping in the valley as he lathered them in the soap. He wasn't hasty to move on, but he didn’t linger for too long, letting you know that he did not expect anything sexual from you. As he washed your upper half, you scrubbed at your bottom, running the soap in your hands over your legs and behind, to speed up the process.

Danny pulled you back under the stream, and quickly rejected your offer to wash him the same.

“You’re exhausted, and I’m worried if you spend another minute in the steam you’ll pass out,” he said with a teasing smile, half joking. You frowned at his words.

“I’m not exhausted, I can do it.”

“Honey…” he started, lifting your arm and showcasing your hands which were trembling without support.

You huffed at his consideration. “Okay, fine… if you’re sure.”

He smiled at you, his hand on your hip squeezing gently, “I am.” He dipped down and gave you a quick peck on the lips, the act startling you, as you had almost forgotten the events that just occurred between the two of you. As if you weren't just guiding his hand to your breasts. As if he weren’t standing before you in those moments, with an obviously painful erection.

You gave him one last smile before you pulled the shower curtain open and stepped out. The cold slapped you in the face and you were quick to shut the curtain behind you to keep Danny warm. Picking up your towel and wrapping it around your body was a beautiful reprieve from the biting cold, and when you looked out of the fogged glass of the bathroom window, you could tell that the rain outside was just as relentless as it was before.

You listened to foamy soap hit the floor as Danny washed through his own hair while you collected your hairbrush and other essentials, before you silently slipped out of the bathroom door, not bothering to close it all the way behind you.

Your mood now soaring at heights unimaginable, you padded to your bedroom, a small smile on your face as you thought back on the intimacy of the moments you had just shared. When you stepped into your bedroom though, you were reminded of the mess that was your life.

Your bed was soaked, sheets and pillows bore big wet patches and you were sure the moisture had soaked through to your mattress too. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath, before deciding what to do. You shuffled through your pyjama drawers and picked out some long plaid pants along with a white singlet and a hoodie. You changed quickly, not wanting the warmth of your body to succumb to the cold again, and once you were changed, you walked back out of your room and into the living room, where you set up camp on the couch.

Meanwhile, Danny was running his hands through his wet locks, the water cascading down his face as he replayed those moments over and over again in his mind. He had waited for you for so long. Loved you in silence for so long. And it was all worth it.

Once he left the shower he wrapped the last towel around his waist, squeezing the wetness out of his hair and leaving it otherwise to air dry.

As he left the bathroom, he could hear you humming softly in the living room, and he passed his room to see you again. Danny watched in admiration at you, dressed comfortably while you typed and scrolled on your phone, cross legged on the couch, Your wet hair hung down your back, but your sweater protected you from the cold this time.

He frowned when he saw the couch, set up in a way he could only assume was your attempt to sleep on it.

The sound of his arrival got your attention, “Hey, I’m ordering Thai delivery,” you said, eyes still trained on your phone as you typed in your card details.

Danny smiled warmly at you, “Great, thanks… um, what’s all this?” he asked, hands gesturing to the makeshift bed you had set up on the couch. Although just seeing him completely naked, and having that naked body pressed against your own, you stifled at the sight of him with only a towel around his waist.

You cleared your throat and averted your gaze, “Oh, my bed is really wet from… you know, lying on it earlier.”

He shook his head, “No, you aren’t sleeping on the couch. I have a double, you can sleep with me.” He immediately blushed at the alternate innuendo his words held, “Not like sleep together, just, you know, go to sleep,” he tripped over his words anxiously, making you force back a smile.

“Are you sure? I’m fine to—”

“Yes I’m sure. One hundred percent,” he assured quickly before he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, “I mean, we did just shower together.”

Now it was your turn to blush, and you looked back to your phone to hide your face, agreeing quietly.

Danny retreated to his room to get into his pyjamas, and quickly tidied the space up, feeling self conscious at the state his room was in, shoving his clothes into his drawers haphazardly, and others he took to the laundry basket. Once he was satisfied, he returned to the living room.

He sat down beside you, his thigh brushing yours and you suddenly became insecure of where you both stood. Usually, it would be normal to sit so close together, laughing and chatting through movies, but now, things were different. You didn't want to come across as pushy and rushed, but similarly didn't want to do the opposite, act cold or distant after the moments you had shared.

If Danny was having the same fears, he didn’t let it show, as he wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer to him while he leaned over to reach for the TV remote with a grunt.

“Watcha wanna watch?”

You and Danny settled on the first movie you could, only pausing to get your takeout delivery from the door, before you returned to your position, which seemed to be steadily moving closer to Danny with each reposition or shuffle.

By the time the film was over and your bellies were full, you were exhausted. You had been emotionally wrecked throughout the day, ranging from betrayal and heartbreak, to renewal and love.

Danny steadied you by your elbow as you stood, helping you gather your things to take to his room. You were too sleepy to feel nervous.

“Which side do you sleep on?” you asked as you stood by the doorway.

Danny scratched the back of his head, “Usually the right, but I don't mind. I move around a lot when I sleep anyway.” Truth be told, Danny rathered that you slept on his side, as he knew that his pillow would smell like you by morning.

It apparently didn't matter though, as when you slipped under the covers of the left side of the bed beside him, his senses were overwhelmed with you. Your smell, your energy and your heat. It also wasn’t long before the two of you closed the distance between you, arms and legs tangled in your attempts to be impossibly closer to one another, your fronts pressed together just like the moments you shared in the shower.

It all felt so normal. You attributed it to being friends for your whole lives, giving you the ability to close emotional distance without second thought, but it was still startling nonetheless.

“Thanks again for letting me sleep here, it’s definitely more comfortable than the couch,” you whispered, and he reached behind him to turn off the bedside lamp.

Now cloaked in darkness, you relied only on your hearing to navigate Danny beside you. The rain was still pouring outside the window, and in a way, it felt fitting as a reminder of your day. While a disastrous storm brewed outside, you were safe and warm with Danny at home.

“Maybe… maybe we could make it a regular thing?” Danny asked nervously. “You know, since you love me and all that,” he teased, trying to ease the tension of his suggestion. You groaned in embarrassment and buried your head into his chest, hearing his chuckles vibrate in his chest.

“I would like that very much, thank you.”

“Don't thank me. You have no idea how happy I am to have you with me like this.”

You sighed deeply, and decided it was your turn to tease. “And just how long have you felt this way for me, hm?”

Danny chuckled dryly but swallowed, hesitating to tell you in case it made things weird. He didn’t want you to feel that his friendship had ever been false, or as a ruse to gain your attention in that way.

His nose brushed against your forehead, “I’ve known for sure since eighth grade.” His statement was heavy, yet honest, and it hung in the air wearily as he waited for you to respond.

You pulled your head away from him, “Eighth grade?! Danny… what— why didn’t you say anything?”

He sighed, “I didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

You understood, but wished he had told you sooner, as though you hadn’t ever realised it was quite love, you knew that you never would have turned away the idea of being with Danny like that.

“We wasted so much time,” you sighed.

“What? You mean you felt the same?” he asked, shock lacing his words as his hand tightened around your frame.

You nodded, “You’ve always treated me better than any boy I ever went out with. I just didn't think that— I didn't think that this was a possibility. I thought you were too good for that. Too—”

“Too good for what?”

“You know, like with your band and stuff. I don't know, I guess I thought you had more important people to see than me. I didn’t ever think you would— could actually see me like that,” you tried to explain.

Danny groaned, “Oh God. I’m never gonna live this down.”

Your brow creased in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“Sammy knew I liked you before I even did, used to tease me about it all the time. The three of them have watched me act like an idiot around you for years. I can't believe you thought that I was ‘too cool’ for you.” He chuckled, though regret laced the dry laugh.

You felt mild embarrassment at the thought that the boys, who you’d become close with the years that you knew Danny, were keeping the secret from you that would ultimately change your life indefinitely.

He whispered your name, pulling you from your thoughts, “I have always loved you. Nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, the words feeling new and foreign on your lips, yet somehow just right. You clutched his shirt in your hands and shuffled incredibly closer to him. He smelt like Danny, the comfort you had grown to turn to after many years of safekeeping your heart.

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” You felt him kiss the top of your head, followed by the feeling of his nose nuzzling into your hair and sighing deeply.

“Goodnight Danny.”

As you welcomed the blankets of exhaustion over your spent body, Danny began to hum a familiar tune, his voice sounding distant in your haze of sleep. Soon, the song became unmistakably recognisable.

Because, by The Beatles. Your favourite song.

𓅪

Part 2

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intheclearyetgood-tv · 1 year ago

Text

A Way In

Triggers: not much, just reader being stabbed once but nothing graphical; making out (once); paparazzi at the end

Pairing: Taylor Swift X Singer!Female!Reader

—————————————————————

Being a singer-songwriter has always been one of your biggest dreams… and let’s be honest here, you never had many chances of making that dream come true. You were a dreamer… a huge one to say the least, and considering that you lived in Nashville - the city that according to people, makes everyone’s dreams come true - you should have been perfectly fine… buuut no, no can do.

You worked at Bluebird Cafe, yes, the place were Taylor Swift was discovered. Not that you’d ever met her. You were a huge fan of hers, and even if you were like 7 years younger than her and had lived in Nashville your whole life, you never met her, you never had such luck… and this lack of luck (sorry for the play on words) always persisted in your whole life.

As I was saying, you worked at The Bluebird Cafe, as a waitress. You were close with the owner of the shop, who let you give a small performance once a week for the night openings, mostly on Friday or Saturday nights, which was very convenient, considering those were the days when the cafe was most busy.

But were you ever lucky enough to meet some producers or some record label owner? Nah, that would require too much luck, you didn’t have it.

On a busy Saturday night like always, every table at the cafe had been served so you made your way up to the small stage, being comfortable about it as you had done it a thousand of times already. You sat on the stool and took the guitar, fixing the microphone to your height as you began speaking.

“Hey everyone! How’s your night going?” You started, and some of the usual clients replied happily, making you smile. “Well it’s nice to hear that you’re all doing well! Tonight I’ll be playing some original songs written and composed by me, and after that, I’m up for requests! Some of you already know me but for the ones who don’t, I’m Y/N L/N and I’ll keep you company during this lovely night!” You began singing a song you had written after that small presentation, and continued with some covers, singing Taylor Swift songs too, the small jar with a sign written ‘TIPS’ over it slowly being filled as the night went on.

You were completely unaware of the pair of blue eyes looking at you at some point during your performances.

As the bar slowly emptied, blue-eyed-girl included, you found yourself sitting at the same stool with the same guitar in hand, looking through your phone. You always did that, at the end of the night, silently hoping that someone would come up to you and offer you a record deal…

What a daydreamer.

“Still nothing?” Nancy, The bar owner asked, once the bar had definitely emptied and the doors were being locked. You sighed and put the guitar back on its stand. “Nope, nada” you stood up, taking a look at the tip jar. “At least I got some good tips tonight” you looked at her, she knew you well enough to recognize when you were sad. “Honey, don’t look at me like that,” she started, placing a hand on your shoulder. She was like s mother to you. “Eventually some producer will notice you, trust me.” You smiled sadly “I hope so” you said, and helped her with the final chores of the bar, before leaving through the back door.

It was about two in the morning, the neighborhood was pretty empty… you always found it scary. And the alleyway you got onto from exiting the backdoor, wasn’t less scary. You always speed-walked your way out of it… but today wasn’t a lucky day.

When is it ever?

You were almost onto the main street, when you felt someone sneaking up on you. You weren’t quick enough to react, the person trying to pull you somewhere but you applied resistance, pulling away. He managed to stab you through your stomach and you whined in pain through your covered mouth, the stranger’s hand covering it.

However you had a bit of luck, because your whines were loud enough to alert a certain someone’s body guard, who momentarily left his duty to have a look in the alley.. thank God he did.

The stranger, upon seeing the big men, let go of you and ran away. you slid down against the walk, not having taken notice of the man, too busy keeping your own hand on the wound on your stomach.

“Mrs. Swift, I think we’re gonna need to call an ambulance.”

You weren’t sure what happened next, as you were in shock, and not quite attentive to your surroundings. You just know that someone familiar was by your side, trying to keep you awake and all you remember is some blue eyes…

— ~ ~ —

You woke up the next morning to the sound of beeping, white walls surrounding you and the noise of people talking outside your door- probably nurses and doctors.

“Thank God you’re awake!” The voice startled you, and you turned to your left to see Nancy sitting on the chair next to your bed. “Did I faint onstage again?” You started, trying to sit up, “God, I had this weird ass dream-“ you winched in pain when you tried to sit up, “fuck-“ only then noticing that maybe it wasn’t all a dream. You lifted your shirt and saw the quite big bandage covering the left side of your stomach, some red stains on it. “Maybe it wasn’t a dream, fuck it hurts”

“We need to put a street lamp and a camera in that alleyway. I’m so sorry that happened hun,” Nancy started. “I shouldn’t have ever let you leave through the back door, I-“ you quickly interrupted her as you laid back down. “Nancy, don’t apologize, please, you couldn’t have known. No one could have” silence set between them after that, until you interrupted it with a laugh: “you know, I think I was hallucinating at some point, cause I thought I saw Taylor Swift” you laughed,

…but Nancy stayed serious.

“You weren’t hallucinating” Nancy said, her seriousness making you stop laughing. “What?” You said, looking at her with confusion written all over your face. “You weren’t hallucinating. That really was Taylor Swift. Her bodyguard saved you and She brought you here-“ you interrupted her. “Nance, seriously? Come on, don’t play with me, you know I care about that stuff-“

That’s when the door opened.

“Oh you’re awake!” The familiar voice had you immediately turning your head to where it came from. “W-what is happening- am I still high or.. on some kind of medicine?” The blonde laughed, noticing you trying to sit up but dropping her smile when she saw you wince in pain. “Woah there, lay back down,” she said and put a hand on your shoulder, fluffing your pillow as she helped you lay down.

“You’re Taylor Swift,”

“Yes”

“And you’re here,”

“Yes.”

“Am I dreaming?”

That had the blonde laugh again, looking at you. “No, Y/N you’re not dreaming. I’m actually here. And you’re actually talking to me” you were still looking at her with your jaw dropped. “How is that possible?” You said, making Taylor smile again. “Last night I was at the cafe, I come visit from time to time… and I saw you performing. I talked to Nancy about talking with you, but you were far from done so she suggested I waited for you to finish your shift, so that’s what I did, I didn’t expect… that,” she said, gesturing to your wound.

“I-I’m sorry you saw me perform last night!? And your songs too!?!? Oh my god that’s so embarrassing-“ Taylor was quick to interrupt you. “No no no don’t say that! I was actually about to say that you were amazing! That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” she looked at you hopefully, you were still wonderstruck about all the situation. “I-I’m sorry I might need some time to process all this” Taylor giggled again and nodded, letting you process what was happening.

A couple minutes later you looked back at Taylor and smiled slightly “okay, you can go ahead,” you said, and Taylor smiled. “Y/N, I will go straight to the point. I heard your original songs and Nancy told me that you write and compose your own songs. Would you like to write and sing a song with me?” That’s when your jaw dropped once again. You were quiet for a couple more minutes. “I’m sorry- you would like to write and- and sing a song, WITH ME?” You emphasized the last two words, you know, for good measure.

The blonde in front of you nodded, and you began talking again. “But- I’m no one- I mean I don’t have a producer, a label, a manager? I don’t even have an album?” The blue eyed woman shrugged. “That’s not a problem, I mean, Nancy here told me that you want a career as a singer, maybe we can make that happen, no? Plus, I’d be really happy and honored to write a song with you!”

You were freaking out, your favorite singer ever had just asked you to write a song with her. And who were you to say no to that!?

Within the next couple days, you were out of the hospital. Taylor had visited both days, just getting to know you. You still felt like you were dreaming, but it was all so true and real. The luck you never had came just at the right moment, when you needed it the most.

That day, as you were being discharged, you were shocked once again when you saw the blonde at the door. “Hey there, ready to go?” Wait, what? You thought you were gonna have to walk home alone, but here she was, picking you up and taking you home. “Uh-yeah sure” you said and slowly walked over to her, you still had some trouble walking, as it hurt your insides… literally, where you were stabbed. You could feel the pain even with all the painkillers.

“Do you need help?” Taylor asked when she heard you wince in pain. You shook your head, hand over the bandage as you kept walking over to her. She sighed and walked over to you, wrapping an arm around you to support you. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” You blushed a little at her comment, though appreciating the help and occasionally leaning onto her. You were both lucky that the hospital had an underground parking, no one actually saw Taylor and even if they did, Nashville’s a pretty chill town, they’re used to her.

“Where’s your bag?” She asked once you reached the car. You looked at her with confusion written all over your face. “My…bag?” Taylor took some time to reply, closing the car door before getting in from the other side. “Yeah, you’re supposed to come at my place…” you were even more confused now. “I am?” That made Taylor laugh, you looked so confused right now. “Yeah, but I’m guessing that Nancy didn’t tell you. Well it’s fine, I can just land you my clothes. I’m taller then you so they’ll be big for you, but I’m sure you’ll be just fine. Oh by the way, my mom’s waiting for us at home with pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, I hope you like them”

And here you were freaking out again. “Your mom as in- Mama Swift?” Taylor hadn’t stopped laughing one second. “Yeah, her. I didn’t realize you were a fan of mine” she smiled, gently nudging your shoulder. “Yeah- of course I am! When I was 10 you were like the talk of the town, i never once managed to come see you in concert and 17 years later I’m in your car, going to your place and getting to record a song with you? That’s like a dream come true, girl” Taylor laughed at that, god, you loved her laugh.

When you arrived at the Nashville house you were greeted by her mother. She asked you about the incident with that stranger, but then proceeded to make you feel at home, her dog, kitty, being a big help in that as she wanted to jump on you, but Taylor had to hold her back as you were still injured.

She gave you a quick tour of the house and ended it in the music room. “Oh wow this is amazing” you said as you walked in, different types of guitars hung on the wall, the huge piano in the middle of it, just wow. You looked at the guitars first, looking a bit longer at the blue koi fish guitar, your favorite.

“Wanna play it?” She said from behind you, you smiled a little but you had a tendency to break other people’s stuff, so you declined the offer, even though eventually your finger pressed on a piano key. You pressed that a couple times before getting a melody in mind and making a brief chord progression, then you took your phone and typed in the chord progression. Taylor looked at you in amusement.

“Is that how you get your ideas?” She asked and you nodded, feeling a bit tired so you sat down on the piano stool. “Yeah. Some times I press a random piano key, and I have perfect pitch so it doesn’t take me long to make a chord progression and arpeggios… then according to how the whole of it makes me feel, I write the lyrics. Or sometimes I get a tune in my mind and play around with it” you said, Taylor smiled and made you scoop over on the stool, making space for her.

“Play the chord progression, keep with it for a while” at that point you had figured out what she had in mind, so you began playing. At times emphasizing some notes more than the other, switching up the rhythm, and Eventually Taylor started coming up with lyrics.

It was your turn now to look at her in amusement, she was so focused and you could see how she felt the melody, how each word came running to her as if she was brainstorming a perfect combination of words.

“Hold on, hold on, lemme record this, this is so good already” she said and took out her phone, recording the whole process. You eventually began harmonizing with her and adding lyrics, both getting lost in the moment as you completed first and second verse.

“Woah,” you said after both of you had gone silent. “That was, I don’t know. I’ve never written something so fast. It’s coming out so good, Tay” you said, the nickname slipping easily from your lips as you scribbled down the last lyrics you had come up with. “This is gonna be one hell of a song Y/N, I can feel it. We wrote two verses in less than… what, 10 minutes?” You nodded and took a look at the scrapbook Taylor had brought. “Okay, we have two verses. We need choruses and pre-choruses and I’ll leave the bridge up to you because your bridges are like, the best thing to ever exist on earth”

It was her turn to laugh at your comment, and you soon joined her in laughter, unaware of her mother’s eyes on both of you, through the door.

Andrea had never seen her daughter this happy.

— ~ ~ —

It had been a month since the two started writing the song, and between going to the studios in NYC and LA, now it was nearly done.

Aside from writing the song, you started spending more time together. You were really close, and Taylor was kind enough to let you stay at her place whenever you traveled around to record the song.

“God, I’m so tired” Taylor said, getting back into the NYC TriBeCa house after a long day at the studio with you, the backing vocals needed to be added so that’s what you did. You nodded at her statement. “Yeah, I’m tired too and I don’t even do it yearly like you do” she nodded as well and went to get a quick shower. When she was done, it was your turn to get a shower and when you went back into the living room Taylor was watching a rerun of FRIENDS, and you joined Taylor on the couch like you always did: laying down on your side with your head on her lap.

It had become usual for the both of you, none of you minding the physical touch, as Taylor loved it and so did you, never having gotten it enough when you were a kid. She would play with your hair and/or trace her fingers on your arm, and god, you felt like home.

Oh, I’m falling in love…

When the episode finished and the post-credit scenes were being rolled, you turned to lay on your back and looked up at Taylor. She soon felt your eyes on her and looked at you.

There was silence for a couple seconds before both of you started laughing. “What?” Taylor said between giggles, you brought your hands up to your face to hide the red-ish color that had started to paint your cheeks. “No nothing I just…” you took a deep breath, and once your cheeks didn’t feel warm anymore, you removed your hands.

Thank god Taylor didn’t notice the blush.

“I was just thinking and… if you hadn’t come into the cafe that night, I wouldn’t have met you and we wouldn’t have recorded our first songs together… this could make me start my career, this could make my dreams come true… and all because of you, Tay” you smiled and sat up, looking at her. She smiled back. “Y/N…” she started, and you hummed, as to signal her to continue talking. “Instead of putting out the song on platforms, what do you say if we play it together at my next concert? So everyone can see you, hear it live… you know,” she shrugged and smiled, watching shock take over your features.

“Are you sure? I- I mean- that would be amazing, Tay! Oh my god, yes please!” You had a thousand thoughts going on in your pretty little mind, but one was better than all of them: you would be performing on stage with Taylor Swift. The older woman hugged you and you hugged her back tightly. Once the initial shock had worn off, you started watching another rerun of FRIENDS.

“I never asked, and now I’m curious so, what’s your type?” Taylor said out of the blue, when the episode had almost ended. You didn’t think much of it, and your reply came pretty quickly. “Well, definitely girls-“ you were about to continue, but Taylor interrupted you: “no shit sherlock” you stared at her wide eyed “you knew???” You asked, laughing at yourself. “Uh DUH? Your outfits basically scream “I’M GAY” even if you’re wearing my clothes which are like, the straightest clothes possible” she laughed again, making you blush. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment”

You punched her shoulder jokingly and continued with your explanation. “I don’t know, honestly. I Focus more on personality then appearance, even if I do have a thing for ocean blue eyes” Taylor didn’t seem to have caught the hint, and even if she did, she let it slide.

A couple weeks later you were standing backstage to Taylor’s concert, anxiously waiting for it to begin. It would take a while before she got to the Surprise Songs, and you already knew that you were gonna die. You were never good at handling anxiety.

“Hey, how are you doing?” You felt a hand on your shoulder, and turned around to see Taylor in her Lover outfit. You had to force yourself not to look at her legs or let your jaw drop. “I uh- I’m nervous. Really nervous” Taylor smiled and hugged you. “It’ll be okay, trust me alright? You’re talented, your voice is amazing… you- we rehearsed this song so many times, it’s going to be just fine.”

Her words of reassurance helped you stay calm, until she got to the acoustic set. “Welcome to the acoustic set!” Taylor said, cheers of crowd filling your ears. “So, the surprise songs for today are a bit more… surprising, as we’ll have not 2, but 3 surprise songs, and that’s because we have a surprise guest today!” The crowd cheered once again, and you started feeling insecure. They probably expected someone famous, not an unknown singer.

“Let me say a few things about her first. As you all know, I was discovered at Bluebird Cafe in Nashville… I went to visit, almost a couple months ago and there was this girl, playing a few of her original songs and also covers… and I really, really loved her voice, and the feelings she made me feel, I don’t know, I had to get to know her. So I did, and today we’re both here with a song that we wrote together, please welcome onstage Y/N L/N!”

The crowd cheered once more, and you made your way onstage, heart thumping in your chest as you reached the front stage, smiling brightly as you took a brief second to look around, before bringing the microphone up to your mouth “oh my God hi everyone! I’m so nervous, this is literally my first time on a stage, and I might start rambling so excuse me” you giggled, fans cheered and you tried to steady your shaky voice.

“Uhm okay. I don’t know what to say honestly, I grew up in Nashville and I grew up listening to Taylor’s songs so yeah, fellow Swiftie here” once again, the crowd cheered. “I grew up working and playing my music at bluebird cafe, hoping for someone to notice me and to offer me a record deal… no one ever did. I mean, I still don’t have a record deal but never in my craziest mind would I have imagined that at some point in my life I’d meet Taylor and she’d want to write a song with me. Tay, You’re the closest friend I have and I just want to thank you, thank you so much for trusting me, for giving me this opportunity,”

Taylor smiled and walked over to hug you tightly, bringing the microphone away from her mouth as she could feel your heart thumping, and said “You got this girl. I know you do. I love you.” You smiled brightly and pulled back from the hug. “Anyway, this is the song we came up with, it’s called ‘A Way In.’ We Really hope you’ll like it”

You sat down at the piano, starting with the melody of the song. Taylor started singing, and you had the harmonies for the most part of it, as well as the highest vocals, the belt and bridge. Even if it was Taylor’s concert, she wanted you to have your moment, she wanted you to start your career beautifully and this could be the right way to do so.

When the song finished, the cheers were louder then ever. You got a standing ovation, Taylor herself was looking at you with proud eyes and smile and clapping for you, you walked over and gave her another tight hug, before looking back at the crowd. Tears in your eyes, and you took your microphone again. “Thank you so so so so much guys. Hopefully we’ll cross paths again” you threw a kiss to Taylor and walked backstage, letting Taylor procede with the actual surprise songs.

When you got backstage, all the cheering was for you. You hugged and thanked everyone, before going to Taylor’s dressing room and changing back into your normal clothes.

When the concert finished, you didn’t expect Taylor to come straight to you and hug you tightly, kissing your cheeks. “Y/N that was amazing! Did you even hear yourself? I never had a crowd cheer that loud for me! They absolutely loved you!” She smiled brightly and took a water bottle that was handed to her, as well as a towel for her sweat. “Tay, you’re exaggerating” you giggled “no I’m definitely not! Wait and see the videos on tiktok later tonight”

Taylor went and got changed, as the stadium cleared out after the long concert. When she was finished, as you were walking out the stage through the back. You were talking with Andrea when Taylor grabbed your arm and pulled you back to her, not giving you time to react before she pressed her lips on yours.

The time felt like it was passing by in slow motion, Taylor was kissing you. She was kissing you and she seemed hesitant about it, and upon realizing what was happening, you brought your arms around her neck, deepening the kiss as Taylor squeezed her grip on your hips, smiling in the kiss as metaphorical fireworks exploded around you.

When Taylor pulled back, your foreheads stayed connected. She looked at you, eyes full of lust, and she brought a hand up to brush some hair away from your face.

“You said you were straight,” you whispered, hinting a laugh.

“Yeah, I might have lied”

You giggled and leaned in to kiss her once again.

You were completely unaware of the few hundreds of fans and paparazzi taking pictures and videos of the two of you making out.

#Taylor Swift #taylors version #eras tour #the eras tour #taylor swift x y/n #taylor swift x you #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x fem!reader #singer songwriter

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embercub · 4 months ago

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First meeting

(Franco Barbi x Fem!Reader)

*modern au!

Y/N wasn't told about the new prime asset.

Hell, she wasn't even told there was going to be a new prime asset at all.

The only way she found out was when a guard dropped a file onto her notebook while she was working on her paper for one of her classes.

Taking out her earbuds, she looked up at the guard with an irritated face.

"You guys could have at least told me about this before hand." She growled in irritation.

The guard only shrugged his shoulders before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Leaning back into her chair, she grabbed the file and began to read it as she heard the growl and struggling of restraints in the office area.

"Hmmm, Franco Barbi, son of a Louisiana mafia don and an unnamed woman. Committed his first murder at the age of twelve and later became a debt collector and hitman for the crime syndicate. Suffered abuse from his father... shit." Placing her pen on the page she was on, she closed the file for now, planning to read more later, then walked towards the door that separated the living quarters from the office.

Walking into the room, she was shocked to see the man's head being bloodied, his blonde hair covered in blood.

She also noted that his head was double the average size of a man, and the left side was heavily mutilated, deformed.

Most definitely from the abuse and birth defect from what the file mentioned.

His hazel colored eyes were bloodshot, hemorrhage, or brain damage from the abuse.

"What are you lookin' at, eh?!" He growled as he pulled at the restrains.

"Relax, I'm your doctor, I'm just gonna take a look at your head injury, then I'm gonna clean and bandage it, is that okay?" She asked as she walked to the cabinet to get some of her medical supplies.

"Fine, but no funny business suga'." He grumbled as Y/N opened the cabinet and grabbed some bandages, a needle and thread for stitching, and a cloth to use to clean the wound.

She brought the items over to the table next to the man before getting a bowl of water to use with the cloth.

Once she was all prepared, she grabbed the cloth, dipped it into the water, then gently began to dab the blood around the wound.

As she did this, Franco looked at the other side of the room where the woman came from.

A giant window that separates the lab from what he assumed was this woman's living quarters, the curtain was drawn back, revealing the room to him.

Posters of different bands and artists hanged on the wall, and a record player sat on a small table with a case full of records.

There was also a TV and next to it, a shelf filled with books and movies, all stuff that he assumed Y/N would read or watch when she wasn't working.

There was also a desk with some textbooks, some notebooks, and the file about him.

He barely took notice of Y/N finishing up stitching and wrapping the wound and began to clean up.

"There, all done, now that wasn't all that bad huh?" She asked as she took the bowl over to the sink and poured the bloody water out.

Looking back at the woman, he froze as he now took in her appearance.

She had h/l h/c hair, wore a t-shirt with a guitar with the words Nashville Tennessee and music city on it, a pair of jeans and sneakers.

"Well, aren't ya a pretty thing ain'tcha? What's your name sweetness?" He asked with a smirk.

This made her frown as she crossed her arms.

"You can call me Dr. L/N." She replied with a look of irritation, realizing that he is going to be all flirty with her from now on.

"What about your first name? I wanna know a bit about the gorgeous woman I'll be seein' from now on."

She was about to say something until the door opened, and the guards came in to retrieve Franco, and another doctor entered.

"Y/N, Eastermann wants to talk to you."

Y/N internally groaned as he said that infront of Franco, who grinned at hearing her first name.

"Y/N, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman." He said as the guards took him away.

Sighing, Y/N looked to her college with a small smile.

"Thanks. I'll head over in a moment." Y/N said before the other scientist left, leaving her alone in her office.

Walking back to her desk, she picked up the file and found a photo of a younger Franco inside.

The young man smiling as a man stood next to him with his hand on his shoulder.

"Franco Barbi... you're gonna be both interesting and a pain in the ass to work with." She said as she placed the file back down before leaving to see Eastermann.

●●●●●●●●●●●

Okay, first off, sorry if this isn't really good, it's the first time I'm writing for him, so if he is a bit out of character, I'm sorry. Second, so most of my writing for Franco will be female reader, if anyone requests for gender neutral versions as well, I'll be glad to post a gender neutral version of my modern au as well! Also, I just did it where the reader's room is also part of her lab, so basically, murkoff has her living at the facility, and she's basically does online school while she is there.

#outlast trials #outlast trials franco barbi #franco barbi #outlast trials franco barbi x reader #franco barbi x reader #modern au #the outlast trials x reader #the outlast trials franco barbi x reader #the outlast trials franco barbi

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didnt-hear-idsb-live-again · 8 months ago

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okay so I just saw a tiktok about this and it had like, 20 views, so I'd just like to post here and raise some awareness here about how UMG's greed has now extended from shitty merch, to the exciting new ~*fucking over indie record stores*~ as well!!!!

A record store in upstate NY just kind of whistle-blew about this, by announcing the fact that they were only just now able to take preorders for The Tortured Poets Department. In their post, they explained that they'd be able to take orders from March 14th, but couldn't openly post about it or share that info until March 18th - after opening weekend of The Eras Tour Movie on streaming (aka an added boost of attention to Taylor and therefore, preorder sales). In this post, they fully blamed UMG for this, and also noted that the prices in their store are going to look incredibly more expensive than buying directly from UMG and Taylor's online merch store (Taylor's online merch store, which, notably, people are losing trust in for preorders due to the fact that for most people, the albums are consistently not arriving until over a month after the album release day). Why are the indie store's prices going to be so much more expensive? Well, that's because, instead of selling the albums to record stores at wholesale (a lower price a manufacturer sells to retail stores at so that the sellers can make a profit, which how it works for literally any retail store selling anything in the history of all retail stores), UMG is charging record stores FULL RETAIL VALUE on Tortured Poets Department CD's and vinyls in order to sell them. This means in order to make ANY kind of profit, indie stores have to add on $10+ to the price as compared to what Taylor's merch store, aka UMG, is directly selling it at. Leaving a customer who discovers this to either feel scammed by the indie store, or just purchase it from Taylor's store / UMG directly online instead.

I do not think Taylor, miss free surprise shipments of signed folklore's sent out to indie record stores to make sure they stay afloat during the pandemic, miss donating hundreds of thousands of dollars to Nashville based indie record stores to keep them open during the pandemic, would be very happy about any of this. I also know it's going to get blamed on her, and lumped in with some "a million vinyl variants billionaire greed", rhetoric, and it makes me so damn sad when I know it's the exact opposite of what she'd want. I'm happy she gets to own her masters but holy shit am I sad that she has less control over the things that actually matter in terms of fan consumerism, and I hope she is too and I hate that she is effectively powerless to fix it because big corporation music industry greedy label capitalism.

Fuck UMG. Fuck UMG to hell and back. Fuck them for screwing over fans, fuck them for screwing over small businesses and the dying breed of brick and mortar locations just to line their multi-billion dollar corporation pockets more than they already are. Fuck the fact that they wouldn't even need to do this if they just provided quality products that they shipped on time, but they'd rather squeeze out every last penny and don't care who they screw over in the process.

#Taylor swift #taylor nation

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alwaysonthemend · 5 months ago

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Read Part I Here

Author's Note: The long awaited Part 2! Thanks to all those who sent asks about it - ya'll helped keep me motivated🤍 This turned out a lil' angstier than I had initially intended but it all works out in the end 😌

All I have left to add is justice for Jake's curly hair and for Waited All Your Life (it'll make sense once you read it)

Content Warnings: Jake x Fem!reader / Jake x Fem!OC (Lindsey) / Mature content / 18+ Only / angst / adult themes / unrequited love / feelings of inadequacy / miscommunication / break ups / graphic descriptions of sex / oral sex / fingering / I'm going to go ahead and tag this with emotional cheating as well because Jake is definitely emotionally cheating on Lindsey (emotional cheating is still cheating so it gets a warning)

Word Count: 9k (I don't wanna talk abt it)

My Taglist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

March, 2023 – Nashville International Airport – Y/n’s POV

The coffee you had downed earlier that morning does nothing to stop the way your eyelids fight to stay closed every time you blink. The airport isn’t too busy yet – a small victory, thanks to the early hour. You walk slowly, eyes focused up at the signs as you wheel your carry-on behind you.

There! You think to yourself, finally catching sight of C3. Exhaustedly, you dump your things on the floor next to a row of seats and you collapse heavily into one. You glance around again, then look over your shoulder. So far, it seems you’re the first to arrive.

Anxiety thrums through you, making your palms feel cold and clammy and the back of your neck feeling hot. You’re struck with the sudden desire to just turn tail and run for the hills. But unfortunately you can’t. Just like you couldn’t quit your job at your agency with such short notice. You’d told him you were done – that you were leaving and you’d fully intended to do so. But your boss hadn’t exactly been understanding when you told her you wanted to be transferred somewhere else. You can still hear her shocked voice through the phone, completely shattering any hopes you’d had of being able to escape this shit show with at least a little bit of dignity left.

So here you sit, waiting.

And of course, since the universe is intent on making your life as miserable as possible, he is the next person to arrive.

“Y/n.” Jake’s voice is the same as ever – but this time still just a little bit rough since it’s so early. “I… I thought you said-”

“My notice has been put in.” You interrupt him, wringing your hands together where they sit in your lap. “They just couldn’t find someone to fill in for me at such short notice.”

Jake’s eyes widen just a little at the sharpness of your tone. You wince internally but keep your face deliberately neutral. It’s not his fault, you remind yourself. How could he have known that I love him?

“Oh.” He answers, shuffling his feet a little and glancing down at the ground.

It’s silent for long enough that you almost start talking about the weather or the traffic but you refrain. You’re both going to have to get over this eventually if you’re going to be expected to work together for this last leg of the tour.

“May I sit?” He asks at last, gesturing to one of the seats next to yours after standing there awkwardly with his suitcase in one hand and his backpack slung over his shoulder in a way that can’t be comfortable.

“Sure.”

Jake sits and you bite your tongue. There’s so much you want to say – so much that you wish you had said, but the middle of an airport terminal at 6 in the morning isn’t exactly the place for it.

The silence is worse than the talking but you don’t want to be the one to break it. Just a few months and then I can forget he ever existed, you think – deliberately ignoring the fact that you know you could never forget what it feels like to be in love with Jake Kiskza. Even when he doesn’t love you back.

“How was the ride here?” He asks haltingly, lips instantly turning down in a wince at the stupid question. But at least it’s not silent anymore.

“Boring. Not much traffic, thankfully.” So much for not talking about the traffic.

Jake nods once, chewing on his bottom lip for a moment before answering.

“Same. Perks of an early flight. Beat the rush.”

You’re pretty sure this is the most excruciating thing you’ve ever had to experience and you can’t help but look around in a desperate hope that someone else has arrived to end this torture. No such luck.

“Right.” You answer him, pulling your phone out to check the time. It’s an hour to boarding and surely one of the others will be here soon.

Of course I’m the only tech who also lives in Nashville, you think bitterly, wishing that anyone other than a Kiszka or Wagner were here in order to rescue you. Jake looks just as uncomfortable as you do. He keeps shifting in his seat and fixing his hair when it doesn’t need to be fixed.

After a long moment of tense, uncomfortable silence, Jake opens his mouth – clearly about to say something that you don’t really want to hear, when a loud “Good morning, fellow travelers!” interrupts him.

Sam’s voice makes you jump and Jake’s mouth snaps shut. You whip around to see Sam – looking far too energetic for this early in the morning.

“Morning, Samuel.” Jake grumbles, looking not at all happy at his untimely interruption but you couldn’t be more grateful.

Sam, always good at being entirely unaware, plops himself down in the seat on the other side of you and leans on his knees to look past you and over at Jake.

“Glad to see you’re still a grumpy bastard in the morning.” Sam then looks at you. “And Y/n, it's always nice to see your bright, shining face this early.”

You don’t feel particularly bright or shiny but you smile at Sam despite the anxiety coursing through your veins.

“Morning, Sam. Glad to have the life of the party present at last.”

It doesn’t take long for Daniel to arrive next, a little less cheery and energetic as Sam but still in a great mood. You know they’re happy to be going back on the road. You would be too if… if things hadn’t happened the way they did.

The terminal fills and fills until finally passengers are allowed to board. You rise, grabbing your suitcase and you toss your empty coffee cup into the trash. Jake rises too, immediately grabbing his things and following you.

“Y.n…” He starts, fumbling in his pocket to pull out his boarding pass. “Can- can I sit next to you? I’m sure Josh wouldn’t mind if he and I switched.”

You pause. You really don’t know if this is the place for whatever conversation Jake is going to force you to have. You would much rather sit next to Josh, just as had been originally planned, but you can’t help the way Jake’s sincere, chocolate eyes make you melt.

“I mean, if you want to I guess you-”

Once again, the two of you are interrupted by a loud voice, this time coming from Josh as he practically sprints across the terminal.

“Made it!” He exclaims, making Sam roll his eyes and Daniel laugh a little.

“Always the dramatic entrance, Josh.” Danny mutters before walking up and scanning his boarding pass.

“Josh.” Jake nods at his twin, looking as if he’d like to throttle the man.

“Jake.” He answers and then smiles at you. “Y/n! Good morning!”

“Morning, Josh.” He instantly puts your nerves to rest a little, making that knot of anxiety loosen just enough for you to feel a little less miserable.

“No Lindsey?”

Your heart swoops down into your stomach as Jake widens his eyes a little at Josh’s question.

“Um.” He starts, swallowing thickly and darting his eyes towards you. “She’s uh.. She’s gonna meet us in Raleigh. I think she’s going to tag along until El Paso… Just depends on how much time she can get off from work.”

“Ah.” Josh shoves his phone into his pocket. “Gotcha. Well,” he glances at the dwindling line of people as they board the plane and then looks to you, “you ready, seat buddy?”

You glance at Jake and try to ignore the wounded look in his eyes. The stark reminder that not only does Jake not have feelings for you but that he’s also in a committed relationship to someone else… well. It’s enough to remind you why you asked Josh to get the seat next to yours in the first place.

“Of course!” You loop your free arm with Josh’s and give him and Jake the most convincing smile that you can muster. “Let's get this show on the road.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

March 12, 2023 - Greenville, SC

It had been entirely too easy for you to pretend as if Jake doesn’t exist – as if the two of you hadn’t been such good friends just months before. He’d taken the hint early on that you didn’t want to discuss whatever it was that he felt the two of you needed to discuss. You were mortified as it is that Lindsey knew the truth – and horrified by the knowledge that Jake knows how much you’d misread the situation with him. He’d been looking for a hookup and you were the unfortunate one who’d managed to catch feelings throughout it all. But so far, Jake has respected your wishes to keep your distance.

He’s never rude, treating you the same way he would treat any of the other tech people who he maybe didn’t know quite as well. And while the distance stings, you know it’s for the best. If the others had noticed the sudden change in your relationship, thankfully none of them had said anything to you – and hopefully not to Jake either. It really was as if none of it had ever happened and you definitely weren’t counting down the days until Lindsey’s supposed arrival.

You’d just spent the last 30 minutes doing Sam’s makeup – time which he’d spent cracking jokes and talking 90 to nothing the entire time. You’d just nodded along, smiling and adding commentary when you felt it was necessary. But really, you just enjoyed listening to him talk. He made you laugh – just like all the boys do, and talking with Sam had been a welcome distraction and way to fill your time since Josh’s partner had arrived… time that you once would have spent with Jake.

You bustle about in the makeup room, tidying things up and putting them in their places. You tuck each of the boys’ foundations in their designated bags, along with whatever eyeshadow palettes or rhinestones they prefer. Your brushes have been washed and now lay out to dry on a towel on the counter top. There’s nothing much left to do except pack away Josh’s ridiculous amount of hairstyling products and then you’ll be free to spend the rest of your time however you please.

The door opens but you don’t look up from your task of shoving hairspray bottles into your bag, fully expecting it to only be Josh or Danny coming back in for a last minute touch up. It’s only about an hour before they go on.

“Hey.”

You startle, whipping around at the sound of his voice. Jake stands in the doorway, waiting just on the threshold as if not daring to enter fully until you invite him to do so.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out surprisingly steady despite the way your heart is racing. This is the first time that you’ve been alone with him. “Something I can do for you?”

Jake nods, taking a single, hesitant step into the room and then stopping again.

“Just something small.” His eyes find yours in the mirror as you turn your back to him, trying to get your bearings a little bit. “Wanted to change my look up a little.”

You turn back around to face him and beckon him over to sit in your chair. Jake never does makeup – even before all this. Jake takes a seat and looks up at you, not saying a word.

“I’m guessing you don’t want rhinestones.” You say with a smile and Jake’s shoulders relax just a little.

“No. No rhinestones.” He affirms, clasping his hands in his lap. His words are soft yet deafening in the quiet of the room. Your heart races so fast you swear he must be able to hear it. “Maybe just some eyeliner? I’ve done it myself a few times but… I’m not as good at it as you are.”

You tilt your head and smile down at him.

“I should hope that I’m at least kinda good at it.” You grab an eyeliner pencil from Danny’s bag. “It is my job after all.”

Jake huffs a laugh but the sound quickly dies out as soon as you lower yourself to get closer to him. You haven’t seen him this close since… since that night in the bathroom. His eyes are like pools of hot cocoa as he watches you intently. Dark lashes, delicate, pink lips. His skin is smooth except for a light dusting of hair on his upper lip – only noticeable this close.

“Can you..?” You look down at his crossed legs and then back up at him.

“Oh. Yeah.” He spreads his legs so that you can step closer. “Sorry.”

You step between his thighs and lower yourself down. Keeping his head steady by holding his jaw with your free hand, you gently swipe the black eyeliner over his lash line. You tilt his head up and choose to ignore the way his eyes stay trained on you the whole time.

“Look up for me?” You ask softly and he obeys. You gently tug his eyelid down and swipe the black over his waterline as well before moving to do the same on the other side. You use the little brush on the other end of the pencil to blend the color out a little.

“Finished?” He asks as you step away, his eyes blinking rapidly for a moment as his eyes water a little.

You look at him for just a moment, trying to treat him just like any other client and not like the guy you’re hopelessly in love with who’s dating someone else.

“Almost.” You turn around and begin digging through Danny’s bag again, making a mental note that maybe you need to make one for Jake in case he decides that he likes the way he looks with this. You grab a tube of mascara and step back towards him. “Just a little bit of mascara.”

You swipe the mascara over his long lashes, making sure that they don’t clump and then you step back and admire the look. His eyes – deep set and thoughtful, look incredible in the eyeliner. It makes his features stand out just a little bit more and you know it will look great under the stage lights later tonight.

“Now I’m finished.”

Jake stands and takes a step towards the mirrors on the vanity. He tilts his head to the side as he admires himself in the reflection.

“I like it.” He says after a long moment, turning back to look at you. “Much better than when I do it.” He smiles a little. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

That tension that was present in the airport a few days ago is suddenly back with full force and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Jake clearly feels it too and he reaches a hand up and runs his fingers through his hair. He drops his hand, the once brushed through strands now a little messy.

“Here, wait.” You don’t know why you do it – it’s like your body just gravitates towards his without you even thinking about it, but you take a step towards him. Placing a hand on his chest, you push him back towards the chair until he sits back down. “Let me fix your hair a little.”

Jake watches in silence as you grab a comb and some styling mousse. You brush through his hair, admiring how some of it reflects auburn in the light. You set it back to its natural part with the comb and then spread some of the mousse on your palms. You rake your hands through his hair, depositing the product and then twirling the ends around your fingers a little, helping the natural waves to form better. They go easily – as if rebelling against the way he must have straightened it earlier.

“You’ve got wavy hair.” The words slip out without you meaning them to and even you can hear the slight awe in your voice – as if him having wavy hair is some novel, incredible thing. Heat rushes to your cheeks but Jake doesn't acknowledge it.

“I think it could be curly if I really wanted it to be.” He answers softly. “Not like Josh’s but… it’s really wavy when I let it air dry on its own.”

“I-I like it.” You answer him, voice equally quiet. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.”

You realize suddenly just how close you’ve gotten to him. You straighten and step back and Jake pulls back as well – he’d been leaning in close to you.

“Guess you should probably head out there.”

Jake nods and rises, hearing the dismissal in your tone and the shift in your body language.

“Right. Yeah. I uh. I should go.” Jake slides his palms over his thighs, eyes darting towards the door and then back to you. He hesitates, as if about to say something but then thinking better of it. “Thanks again.”

“You're welcome.”

You watch him go, chest aching. There’s a feeling in the pit of your stomach – the feeling that you’ve just made a mistake. You don’t know if it was allowing yourself to relax around him again or letting him walk away.

You shake your head and continue tidying up.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

March 20, 2023 - El Paso, TX

Lindsey’s arrival in Raleigh hadn’t been as humiliating as you’d been expecting it to be. In fact, since she spends all her time with Jake – who you’d already been basically avoiding at all costs, you hardly see her at all.

She’d only acknowledged your presence once that first day when she arrived. Just a nod and a terse smile, completely lacking the warmth and kindness from that first time you met and talked. You can’t blame her. She’d listened to you cry and hugged and comforted you – you, a virtual stranger, only to later find out that you’d been talking about her own boyfriend… it’s not exactly the best first impression you’ve ever made.

The El Paso show had gone on without a hitch – just as they usually do, and the boys had invited you and the rest of the tech and crew out for a meal, all expenses paid for. Ristorante Casanova was the place of choice; a little fancy for your tastes but the reviews had been great when you looked it up.

It had been Danny that had planned this – he’d reserved a section of the restaurant that was large enough for everyone to attend. He, Sam, and Josh (surprisingly on time) had been the ones to greet you. There were several other members of the crew already there as well and so you’d sat down at a table in the far corner where their stage manager – who you know pretty well, and some of the body guards had claimed.

Carter is the first to greet you - a sweet, older man who's in charge of security. He smiles widely at you as you take a seat next to him.

“Sunflower! Glad you joined us.”

Carter instantly brings you into the conversation, not allowing you to feel left out for one second. Everyone at your table is kind and fun to be around and they’re a welcome distraction. You hardly even notice when Jake and Lindsey arrive together arm and arm (and you don’t even notice the way Jake’s eyes keep straying to you from his table every chance he gets). Food and drink flows and conversation flows even better and everyone seems to be in good spirits. After you’ve eaten enough to feel like you need a nap, Josh stands and hits his spoon against his glass to get everyone’s attention.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” He says theatrically, eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy from alcohol as he looks around the room at everyone. His eyes linger on you and he winks, making you roll your eyes playfully. “I just wanted to give you all a thank you for making this shit show go so smoothly. At least, as smooth as it possibly could be with all the craziness.”

There are a few murmurs of agreement and light laughter from everyone at that.

“There have been far too many cancellations and reschedules,” Josh continues, his tongue clearly loosened even more than usual thanks to the wine that he’d been drinking, “and I just want you all to know how much we,” he gestures towards himself, Sam, Daniel, and Jake, “appreciate all the work that you guys have done! This Dreams and Gold circus wouldn’t be possible without each and every one of you.”

All of the crew smiles at that and you can’t help the warmth that swells in your chest for this band. Despite everything that’s happened, this has been one of the most wonderful experiences of your life. Not only is the crew full of incredible people, but the band is, too – most rock stars of their stature would never take the time or money to take their crew out for a dinner like this, let alone with a speech of gratitude on top of it all.

“So please, keep enjoying the food and the alcohol and be merry! You’ve all earned it.”

Josh finishes his speech and sits down, and everyone claps and whoops. One of the tech guys calls out a ‘We love you guys!’ to which everyone else shouts their agreement. The boys, all looking bashful but happy, call their love back out to them. Chatter starts up again, and you take the opportunity to slip away to the ladies' room.

After relieving yourself and washing your hands, you step back out into the little hallway outside the bathroom, smoothing your palms over your dress a little bit. You feel good. You’ve laughed more tonight than you have in days and everyone else is in a good mood, too.

You stop in your tracks when you look up to see Jake blocking you from the rest of the hallway.

“Jake.” You begin, thankful that for once, anxiety doesn’t shoot through you at the mere sight of him. You’re in far too good of a mood for that to happen now. “You okay?”

He’s got an odd look on his face as he stands there blocking your path but still your good mood lingers,

“I uh,” he clears his throat, “I don’t really know. I think I’m drunk.”

“Ah.” You walk a few paces forwards so that you can see him better in the dim light of the hallway. His cheeks are indeed flushed like they get when he’s had a little too much. “The men’s is right there.” You jerk your head towards the door for the men’s restroom and then start to push past him but he stops you, a hand darting out to grip your bicep. He doesn’t grab hard – light enough that you could easily pull away if you wanted to.

But you stay. Of course you stay.

“Wait.” His words are a little slurred and you wince a little. He’s clearly in a heightened emotional state right now and your mind races with ways to diffuse the situation.

“I think I made a mistake.” He continues on. “With you. We- we were good friends?” He phrases it as if it’s a question but you know the answer already and you know he does too. You two were great friends.

“We don’t have to go through this again.” You answer him, anger beginning to rise. Of course you couldn’t have just one night where you felt normal. And fuck him for making you feel like this. “You’ve already told me that that night was a mistake.Trust me, I’m well aware, Jake.”

It’s like being on an emotional roller coaster. The initial hope, then the crushing disappointment of unrequited feelings. Now it feels like everytime you start to get over things he appears to draw you back in. First in your makeup chair and now this… You’re entirely certain that if he would just leave you alone, if he would stop sending these cruel mixed signals, you know that this would be easier. You know you could finally move on from this.

Good mood completely soured with anger, you try to push past him again but this time he steps forward and backs you up into the wall, his hands grabbing your shoulders.

“No! That’s- that’s not what I meant, Sunflower.”

“Then what exactly do you mean, Jake?” He’s close enough now that you can smell the tequila on his breath. “Because I know how you feel about me. And I swear to god it’s starting to feel like you enjoy having me pining after you. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

Jake’s head falls, his hair falling down to frame his face.

“I don’t know. I tried too. But you keep pulling me back.” He frowns down at you before adding quietly, “I’m sorry.”

You can’t bring yourself to say ‘it’s okay.’ All you can do is stare at him, feeling suddenly as if every sense has been overtaken by him. The heat of his body, the smell of him, the way his hands are on your shoulders to keep you pressed against the wall…

His eyes drop and for a split second you swear his gaze lingers on your lips before flicking back upwards. Your heart races, chest burning as you basically hold your breath.

“Sunflower, I-”

“What. The. Fuck?”

Jake rears back and away from you as if he’d been burned at the sound of Lindsey’s voice.

Panic washes over you as you take in Lindsey’s face – there’s anger, of course. But mostly hurt. Fuck, you know that you and Jake both look guilty even though you technically haven’t done anything.

“Lindsey!” You begin, stepping away from the wall, “God, it’s not what it looks like. I swear. I’m so sorr-”

“Save it.” She interrupts you, turning her icy gaze towards Jake who’s backed himself up into the opposite wall and is looking at her with wide eyes. “You’re not the one I’m pissed at.”

Jake looks on the verge of either crying or passing out and you feel a bit like you might do either one of those as well. You don’t know what to do as the three of you stand there in a stalemate.

The air feels oppressive and you wrack your brains for something, anything, to say that might make this better. You can’t think of a single, god damned thing.

“You guys okay?” It’s Carter’s voice that breaks the silence as he enters the hallway, his eyebrows raising at the sight that greets him. “Ya’ll have been gone for a while.” Carter’s dart between the three of you before settling on you. “Y/n?”

“We- it’s fine. We’re fine, Carter.” It’s a big fat lie but you don’t really know what else to say. “I was just about to head home, actually.”

You know it’s a cowardly thing to do – to just run away and not deal with whatever blow out is about to happen. But you can’t think of anything better to do.

“Oookay.” Carter doesn’t look convinced that everything is fine but he seems to sense that this isn’t something to stick his nose in. “I’ll walk you out.”

It’s not a question. All you can do is nod and numbly follow Carter out of the hallway. Jake follows you with pleading eyes but Lindsey doesn’t look at you until you’re all the way past her. Finally, she watches you go, giving you a curt nod with her lips pressed together. You would almost feel better if she was pissed and screaming at you instead.

You cross your arms over your chest tightly as Carter waits on the curb outside with you for your Uber to arrive. You haven’t said anything to him but you can tell he’s itching to ask what the hell he just walked in on.

“I’m guessin’ it’s complicated and I don’t wanna know?” He finally asks and you nod.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Are you okay?” You hate the genuine concern in his voice. You don’t really feel like you deserve it.

“I will be.”

Carter kicks a rock and it goes skittering across the sidewalk.

“I’m not trying to stick my nose where it doesn’t belong but… whatever he did to hurt you,” he sighs a little, “I know you didn’t deserve it.”

Despite the millions of awful thoughts that are running through your mind, you smile just a little.

“Thank you.”

“And he’s a fool for not seeing what’s right in front of ‘im.”

To that, you have no idea what to say. So you don’t. The two of you wait in silence for your Uber, Carter’s body heat a comforting presence next to you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

March 26, 2023 - Reno, NV – Jake’s POV

The night at the restaurant has been haunting just about every waking moment since. And when you sleep, Y/n’s look of hurt and Lindsey’s face filled with disappointment and anger swirl around within your dreams and send you waking in a cold sweat.

You know this is all your fault. Y/n knows it. And fuck, now Lindsey knows it too.

She’d been so damned understanding that night when she’s asked about your relationship with Y/n. She’d nodded along as you told her about the drunken hook up in a bathroom. When you’d asked her if it upset her, she’d merely shrugged and said that she “can’t change the past.”

You’d told her you loved her that night and it had eased whatever worries she had… Now, you’re pretty sure that out of everything, that was the cruelest thing you ever did to her.

It had been like walking on eggshells since Ristorante Casanova. You’d explained to Lindsey over and over that nothing had actually happened that night and that you hadn’t been planning on anything happening… that you had just wanted to talk to Y/n. Begrudgingly, she’d accepted your words as truth and your countless apologies but deep down you both know that your relationship isn’t going to ever return to what it was. She’d stopped saying ‘I love you’ back.

You’d declined going out when Josh had asked the night before, claiming to be too tired after the show. It wasn’t a total lie. You were tired, but the show had nothing to do with it and everything to do with having Y/n’s body so close to yours again and the wounded looks Lindsey sends your way when she thinks you’re not looking. Lindsey hadn’t complained when you told her you wanted to stay in – in fact, she’d looked relieved. You’d both gone to bed without saying a word, the silence far more damning than anything else.

She’d been in the bathroom for almost an hour now. The water had been turned off a while ago but she’d yet to emerge. You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for her – feeling a bit like a guilty man waiting at the gallows.

At last, after what feels like an eternity, the door to the bathroom opens and she emerges, washed and makeup freshly done. Your heart aches at how beautiful she looks – and at the fact that it doesn’t affect you the way it used to.

“I’ve got a flight back home today.” She offers, eyes looking anywhere but you as she crosses the room to where her suitcase lays. It’s almost completely packed save for the bag of toiletries she carries with her from the bathroom.

“I thought you were going to try to get more time off work so you could be at the last show?” You can’t help the hurt that bleeds into your tone even though you know you have no right to be feeling that way.

Lindsey levels you with a hard look. It’s not anger. Just resignation… somehow, that’s even worse.

“I think we both know why I’m not staying, Jake.”

You shake your head even though you know she’s right. But things had once been perfect between the two of you and there’s this voice in the back of your head that’s telling you it can’t end like this; that things could go back to the way they were. You really thought you could love her. She’s everything you’ve ever looked for… at least, she used to be.

“I loved you.” You say wretchedly, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s a shitty thing to say as a last-ditch effort to try and fix something that shouldn’t be fixed.

“I loved you too” She tosses her toiletries bag into her suitcase and zips it up.

Her eyes close as she pauses for a brief moment and your hands itch to reach out and touch her – to comfort her. But you can’t. You lost that privilege.

“I did love you, Lindsey. I swear it. I just-” You cut yourself off, unable to put into words what changed.

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Jake.” She rounds the edge of the bed and comes to stand in front of you. You sit with your elbows on your knees, head down in defeat. Delicately, she reaches out and hooks her finger beneath your chin, forcing you to look at her – to see the hurt written all over her face. “I think we both deserve better than this. I deserve better than second place.”

“Yes. You do, Lindsey. I’m- I’m sorry.”

She steps away from you and goes back to her suitcase. She grabs her phone from the nightstand and walks towards the door of the hotel room. She looks back only once and your eyes meet.

“Don’t fuck it up with her, okay?” She tells you, eyes sparkling with just a little bit of warmth. She really did deserve better than this. Than you.

“I think I already did.”

“Then fix it.”

You're heart feels like it breaks into a million pieces as you watch her go – breaking with the guilt of realizing that you're not even upset.

But deep down, you know why you don't feel more.

It had taken you losing her completely for you to realize that Y/n was the one who holds your heart; Y/n's smile that can light up your world in a way that no one else's can.

You hadn't quite known it yet... that night at the bar. You didn't know how deep your feelings for her ran until you got to feel her wrapped around you, crying out your name and looking at you like you hung the stars. But of course you'd panicked – convinced yourself that she couldn't possibly feel the same. And then you'd let your insecurity speak for you and had hurt both you and her all the more as a result. And then hurt Lindsey too by going out with her. In your defense — if you could even call it that... You had convinced yourself that Y/n didn't feel the same and you were so sure that you could move on from her.

But then you'd learned the truth of Y/n's feelings – from Lindsey of all people, and your world had crumbled around you.

But you refuse to let it stay this way. Y/n... your sunflower... you won't let her go again.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

March 26, 2023 - Reno, NV – Y/n’s POV

So far, Reno has been your least favorite place you’ve been to for this job. The air outside is dry as the Sahara desert and you’re pretty sure that no amount of chapstick could help how dry your lips feel right now. Reno feels as if it’s merely trying to be Las Vegas – just without all the neon lights, restaurants, and fun activities that makes the smell of cigarette smoke and foot traffic worth it.

Usually after a show, everyone likes to go out for dinner or drinks somewhere or you like to go exploring a new city. Neither is an option tonight as it seems that everyone is in agreement that Reno isn’t the type of place that they want to have to spend extra time in. And besides, it’s an early flight tomorrow and you have no desire to be up later than you have to tonight.

At least there’s good water pressure, you think to yourself as you emerge from the bathroom, a threadbare bathrobe that the hotel had provided wrapped tightly around your waist. You shove your toiletries into your suitcase – ready for the early departure in the morning, and then collapse heavily onto the bed. Just one more show left.

You’d been feeling much better this past day, feeling less like your emotions were running all over the place and a little bit more centered with yourself. Apparently, being completely and utterly fed up about something does wonders for taking steps towards letting it go.

A gentle knock on the door draws you from your thoughts, along with confusion about who on earth would be knocking at your hotel door – you look at the clock on the nightstand, at 11pm the night before a 7am flight.

You look through the peephole and your stomach drops at the sight of Jake standing outside your door, his hands in his pockets. You undo the lock and open the door just enough so that you can see him fully. He looks freshly showered, his hair still slightly damp at the ends and curling a little bit – just like he said it did that day in your makeup chair.

“Jake?” You ask hesitantly, still not opening the door fully. “What are you doing here?”

You can’t quite get a read on his face. He looks… surprisingly normal as he stands there outside your door.

“I was wondering if we could talk.” He answers.

“Now?” You can’t help the sharpness in your tone but Jake takes it in stride, merely ducking his head a little and giving you a crooked smile.

“I mean… yeah? I just wanted to be able to catch you when we won’t get interrupted.”

A thousand reasons why you should say no race through your mind, the number one of which being that he has a girlfriend who he should probably be with instead. But logic and Jake rarely share the same space in your mind so you open the door wider and allow him to come inside. The smell of his cologne hits you as he brushes past you and you’re assaulted with the mental image of a freshly showered Jake in his bathroom taking the time to put it on before coming to see you. You clear your throat and lock the door behind you.

Jake stands in the middle of the room, hands still in his pockets, and finally that neutral expression on his face has melted away to something else. Is he… nervous?

“Did you catch the show tonight?” He asks, eyes following your every move as you take a seat on the edge of your bed.

“I caught the tail end, yeah.”

“Did you like it?”

You sigh a little.

“I always like them.” And it’s the truth. He’s good at what he does. “But I don’t think you came here to my room this late to talk about the show.”

Jake nods, shuffling his feet a little and then biting his lip.

“I guess I came to apologize.”

A small, vindictive little part of you rejoices and you speak before your mind can catch up.

“There are a lot of things for you to apologize for. Which one are you talking about tonight?”

Jake winces and looks suitably chastised as he stands there before you. It doesn’t make you feel better like you thought it would to see him so unsure of himself.

“There are a lot of things.” He agrees quietly, “but it’s what I was trying to say that night at the restaurant.”

You can clearly remember his words from a few nights ago – I think I made a mistake. With you. You raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate. You’re tired of playing the guessing game with him.

“It was a mistake to tell you that it meant nothing.” He continues on, eyes trained on the ground. “It was a mistake to call it a mistake. And I’ve spent every night since regretting what I said. And I regret that I didn’t see what I had until it was too late.”

Your mind goes completely blank as he speaks, brain unable or unwilling to decipher what he’s saying. You’re terrified of misreading this. Again.

“What- what are you saying, Jake?”

He smiles a little, more of a grimace than anything, but he finally meets your gaze with his own.

“I’m saying that- that I want you. For more than just sex, Sunflower. I want you.” He bites his lip, brows tipping downwards in a frown. “If- if you still want me, that is.”

“But Lindsey-” You begin, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Me and Lindsey are over. She’s on a plane going home as we speak. She doesn’t-” he cuts himself off with a wince. “I don’t love her anymore. I’m not sure I ever did. We’re done, Y/n. We should have been done a long time ago.”

You both stand there in tense silence. You want to scream and cry and hit him for everything that he’s put you through. But you also want to laugh and kiss his stupid, beautiful face. Words have failed you. You’ve spent so long dreaming that he would one day say these things and how you would respond but now that it’s happening… you can’t think of one single thing to say to him.

“I think I just need some time to think.” You finally say to him. Jake doesn’t look surprised by it either.

“That’s- that’s fair.”

“Once we get to Sacramento, after the show… come and find me. I’ll have an answer by then.”

Jake nods and turns to leave, looking a bit like a kicked puppy but you don’t allow yourself to reach out to him. Not yet. He can wait – just like you had to do.

“And Jake?” He turns back around quickly, looking as if he’s trying not to look hopeful. “Thank you for telling me.”

His shoulders drop just a little but he nods and smiles.

“Of course.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

March 28, 2023 - Sacramento, CA

Jake’s words play on repeat in your mind practically 24/7 in the days following his… his apology? Declaration ? You’re not entirely sure what to call it but by the night of the final show you’re pretty sure you have each word memorized.

Jake had given you space – time, just like you asked him for. And of course, your mind has tried to rationalize what he’d said a million different ways as you try to take them as anything other than what they came across as – a proclamation of wanting a relationship with you.

But surely that couldn’t be what he meant, right? He’d called that God-forsaken night in the bar bathroom a mistake from the moment it was over and he’d since been made more than aware of your feelings towards him thanks to your conversation with Lindsey that night back in Nashville.

I want you. For more than just sex. Those words have been haunting you, always in the back of your mind as you try to move about through your days like a normal person. There’s no way he meant anything other than wanting a relationship, right? What else could that possibly mean? He’d looked so unsure, so unlike himself as he’d stuttered out If you still want me, that is.

The words are still on replay in your mind as you move about your hotel room, anxiously packing and repacking everything that you own as you wait for Jake to come and find you after the show like you told him to. If he comes and finds you. The show ended hours ago and you know that there’s a big celebration going on – one that you’d been invited to but had chosen to stay home from. But it’s nearing 1AM… surely he’d prioritize coming to talk to you, right?

As if your thoughts have summoned him, there’s a knock on your hotel room door. This time, you don’t have to look through the peephole to know that Jake is waiting on the other side.

“Come on in.” You tell him, widening the door.

“Sunflower.” He breathes, eyes raking up your form for a moment before he steps into the room. “You answered.” He says it like he’s surprised.

“You came.” Is all you have to say in response and Jake nods.

You’d had this conversation with him at least a million times in your head by now and you’d had a solid idea of what you were going to say. But now, as you look at him with his sweet, chocolate eyes filled with hesitance and just a little bit of hope… it all flies out the window.

“Of course I still want you.”

Jake’s face softens in a way you’ve never seen it before and he smiles – small but genuine.

“You mean it?”

You nod. It feels a little anticlimactic as the words settle between the two of you and neither of you seem to know what to say. You tell him as much, earning yourself a small laugh.

“I don’t really know what to say now, either. But I do know that- that I would very much like to kiss you.”

It feels like the air in your lungs completely disappears as he says that. Unable to answer, you step forward and kiss him first. It’s soft– timid even. So unlike that first time in the bar all those months ago. He’s kissing you like he’s taking his time, memorizing how you taste and feel like he might never get to experience you again.

He walks you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the bed and then his mouth trails down to your throat and butterflies erupt in your stomach.

“Let me do it right.” He murmurs into your skin, his hands exploring every inch of you. “Like I should have done from the start.”

It feels like your veins are full of liquid fire as his lips trail down your throat and to your collarbone.

“Do whatever you want, Jake.” Is all your brain can come up with to say.

He takes your clothes off slowly, as if savoring each inch of skin bit by bit as it's revealed to him. When at last you’re completely bare and his clothes join yours on the floor, he settles his weight fully between your legs and his palms spread out across your thighs, kneading the flesh and working his way up your sides, feeling every bit of you as if he’s trying to commit it to memory.

His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips as you arch your back in a slow stretch. Jake’s eyes track every movement, every flicker and twitch of muscle beneath the skin as if truly seeing you for the very first time… as if he can’t believe it. His gaze lingers at last on your breasts, moving in tandem with your heavy breaths.

Then his gaze slides lower. Lower. And when at last it lingers at the apex of your thighs, and his eyes glaze over with lust, you say to him,

“Are you just going to sit there and stare?”

Jake’s lips part at the challenge, his breathing going shallow. Jake is tense above you, so tense you fear the muscles might snap. But his hands are gentle as they drift to your inner thighs, rough fingertips ghosting along the sensitive skin there.

With a stuttered breath he murmurs, “You are… so beautiful.”

You thread your fingers through his hair and use the grip to tug him upwards, instantly slotting your lips against his as soon as he’s in reach. You trace your tongue along the seam of his lips, fingers working to unbutton his pants. He groans into the kiss, tongue fighting desperately with yours. And, just to see what he’ll do, you palm him through his pants.

Jake cries out, mouth falling open, lips still just barely touching yours as he groans.

“You’re so hard.” You marvel, pressing down a bit more, feeling the heat and solidness of him beneath the fabric.

“All for you.” He manages to say, hips rocking forward to meet the feeling of your palm against him. “If you keep doing that this is gonna be over before we start.”

You exhale a laugh, removing your hand.

“You know what I regret the most?” He asks, moving his way back down your body. “From the last time?”

With a grin you answer, “Other than telling me it was a mistake afterwards?” He frowns a little in response to that, dark eyes staring up at you with a look in them that tells you that maybe it's a little too soon to joke about it. “Sorry.”

“No.” He shakes his head, hands splaying back out on your thighs and squeezing lightly. “I’m sorry.” His eyes drop back down to your dripping center. “And I regret not tasting this gorgeous pussy. Just so you know.”

The words set you on fire, starting at your toes and running all the way up to the top of your head. His grip on your thighs tighten and then his tongue is on you – flicking relentlessly. Your body arches into him helplessly as your mouth falls open with a loud moan. He grins into your heat at the sound and a moan of his own escapes him.

“Jesus.” You whine, your knees falling open even more.

“No. Just me.”

And God damn that voice. You didn't think it was possible for a voice to affect you like that but you're pretty sure that if it was possible you would want it to fuck you too. Deep and husky and smoother than whiskey.

This time, the vigor with which he attacks your aching pussy with his mouth should be illegal. He makes a show of it – shaking his head from side to side and growling deep in his chest. All you can do is lay there and feel it – body writhing beneath him as the heat in your belly begins to rise and rise.

You gasp as a rough fingertip prods your entrance, gathering your slick before slipping inside and curling deliciously, all the while he never lets up with his mouth.

“Come on,” he urges, his breath hot on your aching core, “wanna taste you. Let me taste you, princess.”

As if your body was merely waiting for his permission, the wave of white hot pleasure inside you hits its crest and you call out – a noise somewhere between animal and human that you might have been embarrassed about had you been more aware of yourself. And Jake just laps it up as your release spills into his mouth.

Jake doesn’t pull away from you until your orgasm is completely finished and you start to shiver in overstimulation. His lips – plump and swollen, are shiny with your release. Grinning, he moves up your body and kisses you, tongue slipping past your lips and allowing you to taste yourself on him. It’s the most erotic thing you’ve ever experienced. Those eyes of his drink you in as he pulls away and you feel as though you could get lost in them.

“What do you want?”

It takes your brain a moment to realize that he’s talking and a moment more to decipher what he’s just asked. But once it does, another wave of heat courses through your body and pools between your legs.

“I want you inside me.”

Jake groans in answer, as if your words alone give him the utmost pleasure.

“Whatever you want, princess.”

“Do you have-?”

Jake grins and nods his head, rising up from the bed. He steps over to the pile of his discarded clothes (giving you an incredible view of his exquisite ass) as he bends down to reach into a pocket of his pants.

“Would you think I’m an asshole if I said I came prepared?” He asks, turning around to face you again and raising a brow, the foil packet held aloft between his index and middle finger.

Your heart warms at the sight – Jake, confident and relaxed around you as he once was.

“Nah.” He steps back towards the bed, stopping there without climbing back in. “Just appreciative.” You tell him, but still he makes no move to get back in the bed, his eyes scanning over your naked form in a way that feels more like he’s looking through you. You almost want to cover yourself beneath his intense gaze. “What are you doing?”

“Just admiring the view.” He gives you a wolfish smirk and then climbs back into the bed, sitting himself on his knees between your thighs.

As he rips open the foil with his teeth, you take a moment to admire his cock – hard and red and just as beautiful as the rest of him, where it stands proudly against his stomach. He rolls the latex onto himself, biting his lip and groaning a little bit as he pumps himself a few times.

“You’re beautiful too, you know.” You murmur, glancing up at him. A pretty blush spreads across his face and down his chest and it makes you giggle. Even the tips of his ears turn pink. Jake Kiszka – rock god who plays on stage in front of thousands, is shy. “There’s no way that made you blush.”

Jake laughs and murmurs a playful “Hush” and then he’s sliding into you, silencing whatever retort you might have had. He plants his hands on either side of your body, face contorting in agonized pleasure.

The stretch of him is overwhelming and you grip his forearms, arching up into him.

“Hold on a sec.” You whisper and he does so without question, peeking down at you to make sure you’re okay. “Been a while.” You tell him with a blush of your own.

“That’s okay.” He answers, kissing you once – brief but sweet. “Just tell me when, princess.”

After a moment, you loosen your grip on his forearms and nod. He pushes into you fully, making both of you moan. He rocks his hips, still being gentle. His shoulders shake with the effort of holding himself back and that alone makes another rush of wetness rush down to your pussy.

“You feel like Heaven wrapped around me.” His words are rough, muffled by his clenched teeth.

“You can go harder, baby.”

Jake moans at that, upping his pace a little. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more to be with him like this – to have him panting and whining above you with each thrust of his hips.

He grips your hips in his rough hands, pulling you upwards.

“Legs around me, princess.” The words sound more like a plea and you’re quick to obey, your legs clamping down around his hips as he starts to move again.

“Oh, fuck!” At this angle, the velvety head of his cock brushes the spot inside of you that drives you wild and sends your muscles taut as a drum.

His pace is slow but his thrusts are powerful, driving into you in a way that makes you see stars.

“Shit.” His head drops down, his skin glistening with sweat in the warm light of the lamp. “I’m not gonna last like this, Sunflower.”

“I’m not either, Jake.” You manage to answer, your own words sounding far away.

“Been a while?” He jokes, referencing back to your words earlier.

“Partly.” You clench around him mercilessly, drawing a loud groan from him that makes you giggle at the power you have over him. “Mostly because it’s you.”

Jake’s body shudders and his cock throbs inside of you. He’s dangerously close but he’s desperate to get you there first. Your eyes roll back into your head when his thumb finds your swollen clit, rubbing in harsh circles in time to each thrust. Unable to hold on any longer, your orgasm crashes into you, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your muscles twitching and contorting as he keeps fucking you through it. Not a moment later Jake cums with a rough cry, burying his face in your neck as you both ride out your pleasure together.

“Please stay.” You ask him and he nods against you.

“As long as you want me to.”

The sun shining through the blinds is what wakes you up. You reach out beside you, expecting to feel the warmth of Jake’s body heat next to you but you’re met with an empty bed. Did he leave? Brows furrowing, you sit up and look around and your worries are instantly silenced at the sight of Jake – in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom and running your comb through his hair. You rise from the bed and Jake looks over at you and smiles.

His skin is still flushed from the hot water of the shower and you have to fight to stop staring at the way his biceps flex as he brushes his hair and at the bead of water that trails down the middle of his stomach and disappears into the towel.

“Morning.” His morning voice is like whiskey and you blush just a little.

“Good morning.” As you reach the bathroom your eyes are drawn to a bottle of styling mousse that Jake must have gotten from your suitcase. He sees you looking at it and smiles shyly.

“I was going to ask you to help me style it.” He tells you with a tiny smile and your heart melts.

“Of course.” You step over to the counter and grab the bottle and just like you did last time, you spread the mousse onto your palms and then run it through his damp hair and then twirl it in sections. As you work – maybe taking a little bit more time than is really necessary, Jake starts to hum a tune under his breath. You’ve heard him whistle or hum it before. “What’s that song?”

“Not sure yet.” Jake shakes his head a little, careful to not mess up his hair as you work on it. “I’ve had the tune in my head for a while. Just haven’t been able to think up any lyrics that fit.”

When you’re finished, his hair falls in loose waves that frame his face. Jake leans down and places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I could get used to this.” He murmurs, the words spoken against your lips as if he's unwilling to draw away for even a second.

“Me doing your hair?”

He shakes his head.

“Waking up with you.” You blush at his words, feeling like you might melt on the spot. “Is- is there any way you could still keep your job with us?” He asks hesitantly and shit you’d forgotten all about the fact that you��d put in your notice.

“I’m sure I could call and get things straightened out. There’s a chance they haven’t found anyone else yet.” You pray that you can stay. You'll beg on your hands and knees if you have to.

“Good.” Jake squeezes your arm once and then exits the bathroom, walking over to where his clothes from the night before still lay on the floor.

You watch him go, your heart feeling suddenly so full that it might burst. You and him still have many things to talk about – conversations that have to happen at some point. But right now? Nothing has ever felt easier than going about your morning routine with him. Jake turns to look over his shoulder at you, tilting his head.

“What?”

You just shake your head and laugh a little at yourself.

“Nothing. It’s just-” it sounds stupid to say out loud but you say it anyway. “Just feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this.”

His smile is like looking at the sun – bright and radiant. He abandons his clothes once again to come stand in front of you. He reaches out, his hands finding yours and interlocking your fingers together.

“You’re everything I’ve been looking for, Sunflower,” he tells you softly, “and I think I just got the perfect idea for some lyrics.”

Fin

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pricelessemotion · 1 year ago

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sweet dreams, tennessee

summary: [4.5k] Upon visiting your grandma for the summer, you're greeted by more than one familiar face.

pairing: cowboy!steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: references to alcohol and death of a parent, childhood friends to lovers, slow burn (?)

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Chapter One: Welcome home, Honeybee

An hour or so outside of Nashville is a town called Sweet Dreams, too small to show up on any map. The ones who want to make it out, bask in the irony. They say this town is exactly the place where dreams go to die.

Most people who have the privilege of leaving Sweet Dreams don’t come back. They watch the dust kick up in the rear-view mirror and say good riddance. But you’re not like most people.

You tip the taxi driver extra, even though he’s dropping you off at the edge of the property and you have to tug two suitcases and a backpack through a quarter mile of dusty road. The walk gives you time to think. Time to breathe. The air is different here, fresher. You can’t remember the last time you got to walk outside in the middle of the day and only have birdsong to keep your thoughts company. You’d thought that the vast emptiness would be a good change of scenery. You’d thought that the neverending din of the city was clogging up your brain, making your thoughts scramble like eggs in a hot skillet on Sunday. Now, they echo back to you, sung back in the form of mockingbirds. You don’t know if it's better. It’s just different.

By the time you make it to the paved driveway, your arms are aching and there’s a current of sweat making its way down your back. You’re barely twenty feet from the door when Nana appears in the open front doorway. Upon catching sight of you, she’s barreling down the porch steps, holding her sun hat to the top of her head so that it doesn’t fly off. Dropping the handles of your bags, you allow the woman who basically raised you to engulf you in the best hug this side of the Mississippi. She smells like fresh soil, powdery perfume, and everything that’s good about the world.

“You’re here! I told you that I’d pick you up at the airport! You didn’t have to call a cab,” She admonishes, before smacking kisses all over your face. “I missed you sweet pea.”

She looks older now, and the thought tugs at your chest. Her hair is more silver than anything and the lines around her eyes and mouth are deeper than in your memory. It’s only been a few years, but your grandmother wears an entire new lifetime lived without you on her face.

“I missed you too.” You let out a laugh but there’s a melancholy feeling to your words. You know that if you stir on them just a little bit more tears will start flowing out and never stop. You bury your face into the collar of her blouse, willing yourself not to cry.

“Well,” She says, taking a step back and putting her calloused hands on your shoulders. “Let me get a good look at you.”

You smile, doing a little spin for her amusement.

“Just like I thought. Even more gorgeous than the last time I saw you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks in response. You never quite knew how to take her constant compliments. Not only about your beauty, but your intelligence.

“How’s your daddy doin’?” Her words are casual but her tone is clipped. Her lips curl in and she busies herself with brushing imaginary dust off your bare shoulders, looking at you like she’s trying to commit the sight to memory.

You breathe out a sigh, “As good as he’s ever doing.” Which is usually not good, you think but don’t say.

Nana only purses her lips, nodding in agreement.

Both of you know that your dad hasn’t been the same since Mama died. Mama was a realist. That’s why she left Sweet Dreams in the first place. Your dad was a dreamer. Without your mom to anchor him to this world he was adrift. He was careless with what he had when he had it. Now, he doesn’t know what to do now that it’s gone.

You fiddle with the strap of your backpack, feeling the weight of everything you brought with you digging into your shoulders. You should probably call him to let him know that you got here safely.

“You must be exhausted after traveling,” Nana says, breaking you out of your reverie. “Let me just put my gardening stuff aside real quick, you can go ahead into the kitchen and I’ll fix you up something to eat.”

You nod and step inside the house, taking your baggage with you.

—

The fridge, or as Nana likes to call it the frigidaire, looks exactly the same as you remember it. Magnetic alphabet letters are used to hang up reminders and photos. She still has the same drawing that you gave her for Mother’s Day all those years ago, the crude crayon stick figures of the two of you standing side by side in a wide-open field. Now, there are signs of aging, the paper yellowed and curled at the edges.

Aside from your childhood art, there are wedding announcements and Christmas cards a plenty. You recognize one of the faces. James wasn’t related to you but that didn’t matter. In Sweet Dreams, everyone was family. He was getting married to a woman named Elizabeth at the end of the summer. You can’t help but smile at the picture of him, his future wife, and his daughter.

The last time you saw Winnie, James’ daughter, her mother had still been alive. The news of her untimely demise and James’ sudden status as not only a young widower but a single father had caused aftershocks that made their way all the way out to you in California. It was nice to see how happy the three of them looked together. You remind yourself to let Nana know that you want to see them soon.

“Miss Mellie? I’m done with the car. There was something wrong with the fuel tank.” A man comes into the kitchen through the back door, dressed in a white tank top and blue jeans, wiping the grease from his hands with a rag.

He stops, eyeing you curiously. “You’re not Miss Mellie.”

“I’m not,” You say, dropping your backpack onto one of the chairs at the kitchen table.

Just then the screen on the kitchen door bursts open. The bottom has been busted for years and never repaired, for the benefit of the four-legged basset hound that’s bounding towards you. You light up at the sight of him, but your joy is cut short by the comment of the strange man who has yet to introduce himself.

“Careful. Jackson gets nervous around strangers.”

Jackson only pants in response to the man’s statement, gleefully sniffing your shoes before licking the exposed skin of your calves.

“Well then, it’s a good thing I’m not a stranger.” You mutter leaning down to scratch the dog behind his ears. “You don’t have to tell me about my dog, I was there the day he was born.”

Jackson was the runt of the litter. You had picked him out, seeing how he was weaker and smaller, being trampled over by his brothers and sisters. Your father had given you a funny look when you pointed at the weak little thing and said that one! The look quickly went away once Nana gave him a look of her own.

“No shit.” The man leans back on the counter with all of the comforts of someone who knows this house like the back of his hand. He puts down the greasy rag, running a now clean hand along the sharp line of his jaw, his expression a mixture of disbelief and recognition.

“Now,” You huff, standing straight again much to the chagrin of the dog still panting at your feet. “Are you gonna tell me what you’re doing in my house?”

Your snippy attitude doesn’t seem to have the desired effect because he only looks right back at you with an easy smile.

“Y’know, I’m a little offended that you don’t remember me, Honeybee.”

Despite the heat of the Tennessee summer, you’re frozen. Only a handful of people have ever called you that. One of them bursts through the kitchen doors, holding a stack of mail in her hands.

“Steven!” Nana exclaims, confirming your suspicions. “You all done with the car?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh please Steven, you know you don’t need to call me that.” Her tone is lightly scolding but from the curl of her lips, you can tell that she likes it. Nana has always been a stickler for good manners. “I see you’ve found my grandbaby. Isn’t she a beauty?”

His smirk only grows deeper as he tips his head. “Must run in the family.”

She turns her attention to you. “You remember Steven, don’t you sweet pea? The truck was making a noise that was something awful. He offered to fix it up for me.”

Steve looks decidedly bashful, shaking his head and casting his gaze down to the floor. “It was nothing.”

Nana doesn’t even take into account his modesty, instead barreling through the rest of the conversation like she always does. It’s a wonder that she’s thrived in such a slow and peaceful town all her life when she constantly lives and talks at twice the speed of everyone around her. Everyone else is left trying desperately to keep up. “The two of you used to be thick as thieves, I swear. Could never find one without the other.”

“I remember,” You murmur, only chancing a glance at the boy across the room who seems to have turned into a man overnight. You guess that’s what six years apart will get you.

You remember Steve’s mother. She was a sweet woman when she wanted to be, if a little self-absorbed. Every summer they spent in Sweet Dreams her accent would fall into its natural rhythm and syncopation, annoying the hell out of Mr. Harrington. He always had a sneer on his face, screwed up like he had just taken a bite out of a lemon and was waiting for the sting to subside. He only showed up for the first and last week of the season, to usher his family in and out of his wife’s hometown.

Steve always acted a bit tougher with his father around, puffed out his chest, and forced his voice to go deeper. You once pointed this out to him and he gave you a nasty look and told you that he had no idea what you were talking about.

You apologized and Steve forgave you in the way that kids do, over brown lunch bag trading sessions, with plastic-wrapped treats being exchanged between sticky fingers. You never brought up his father again. For all of his father’s watchful eyes, his mother was the complete opposite. She was one of those people who believed that children shouldn’t be seen or heard. So, she pawned Steve off to the dusty streets of Sweet Dreams, knowing that whatever trouble he could possibly amount to was limited by the fact that the town was so small.

But Sweet Dreams didn’t always feel so small. In fact, when you were a kid the entire world seemed only to exist in a twenty-mile radius.

Steve clears his throat. “Well, if that’s everything I’ll go get cleaned up.”

“Oh! Actually, could you be a dear and take the luggage that’s by the front door into the guest room?” Nana asks.

Steve flashes an award-winning smile. “Anything for you, Miss Mellie.”

Nana shoos him out of the kitchen with promises of a good dinner and even more thanks. You’re still stuck on the fact that Steve Harrington is in Sweet Dreams and apparently has been for a while if the way your grandmother was interacting with him was any indication.

“He’s staying in the old shed.” She explains, sensing your confusion. She’s already opening the fridge, pulling out a pitcher of iced tea that immediately starts sweating in the Tennessee heat. Your mind is stuck on the soft thudding of heavy footsteps on the wooden staircase. The sixth step still creaks after all this time. “Fixed it up and everything. It already had a bathroom and a waterline, so all he had to do was make it livable.”

You can only think of offering a hum in response, grabbing one of the floral glasses from the cabinet, and pouring yourself a cup. It tastes like home.

“I’ve got you all set up in your Mama’s old room. Figured you’d like the sunlight. I pulled out the yellow bedspread, I remember that one being your favorite.”

Tears collect in your eyes. It’s been a while since anyone has paid attention to you long enough to remember anything insignificant about you. Nana collects every small detail like they’re precious, saving them for a rainy day so she can show you just how much you mean to her.

“Thank you, Nana.” You manage to choke out. You want to say more. You want to give her an explanation for why you dropped everything and showed up at her door. You’re not ready for any of that.

“Of course, darlin’.” She says simply, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “It’s good to have you home.”

“It’s good to be home.”

—

Nana tells you to go upstairs and unpack–she purposefully set today aside for you to relax and unwind, knowing that you would probably be exhausted after traveling for so long. The reprieve is temporary, though. She’s assured you that the entire town has been informed of your stay and that her birthday party will also serve as a welcome home party for you.

Despite your insistence that you don’t want to take away the spotlight from her, she only winked and told you no one can take the spotlight from me, sweetie. Everything’s been prepared for the party tomorrow night. You’re already dreading the questions that you don’t have the answers to.

You make your way upstairs, avoiding that creaky sixth step. The walk to the room is daunting. The bedroom door has been left slightly ajar, and rays of sun are peeking through the crack, the only source of light in the dark hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you push the door open. It looks exactly as you remember it. The curtains are drawn, allowing the north-facing windows to showcase the wide-open fields and dusty roads that you know and love.

The yellow bedspread is there, just like Nana said it would be. It’s sunbleached after so many years, but it still feels soft and comforting.

Your mother’s painting is still in the same spot. Looking at it, you can tell it’s never been moved the way the corners of the wallpaper around it give it away. Anyone with a keen eye can see how the pale sage green walls were once deep and rich, having faded away like so many other things in Sweet Dreams do. By sitting right where it always was.

Taking a deep breath, you move to unpack everything. The drawers in the vanity are all empty, except the one in the very center. It’s locked, and despite your best efforts, remains that way.

On the vanity, there’s an old picture frame. The photograph inside is of a memory you cannot believe you’d forgotten. You’re sitting cuddled up next to your mom. It was the day that you’d gotten Jackson, and he was so small you could still hold him in your little eight-year-old hands.

You’d refrained from smiling for weeks at that point, utterly mortified at the gaps in your mouth from losing your two front teeth at the same time. In that moment, though, you were smiling so wide. Jackson had gone from sitting quietly in your lap, to jumping up to lick you on the chin. The shock and subsequent squeal of laughter had been captured and kept.

You move the frame to the bedside table. It’s good to be home, you tell yourself. For the first time today, you’re not quite sure if you mean it.

—

“Is James coming tonight?” You ask in between bites of fresh strawberries and buttered toast.

The temperature in the kitchen is nothing less than sweltering. You’d been spoiled out in California, living near the bay and rarely having to worry about the weather climbing above seventy-five degrees. The room is in a state of organized chaos, with all of the food being prepared and cooked for the party. Nana stands at the back end of the kitchen, her back to you. She’s been up since the crack of dawn, placating your insistence to help her with food and conversation.

“Oh, I’m sorry honey. He called this morning. Winnie’s got a toothache and he and Betty decided to stay home with her. I know you were looking forward to seeing them.”

“It’s okay,” You assure her. “Just would’ve been nice to see a friendly face.”

She turns the dough on the counter before folding it over and kneading it. There’s flour all up and down her forearms and most likely butter under her fingernails. “Steven’s coming,” She reminds you as if that fact is supposed to be reassuring.

“Right, of course.” You try to keep the apprehension out of your voice. “Steven.”

The truth is that you don’t know where you stand with him. You’d heard his voice from the top of the stairs last night, all full of polite regret that something had come up and he couldn’t attend dinner. The next sight you caught of him was his back as he rode off into the distance.

“He’s single, y’know,” Nana says, punching circles into the dough and setting them onto a baking tray. “He’s been working on the farm for about a year now. Real helpful.”

You know the farm isn’t what it used to be. After the passing of your grandfather, a lot of the acreage was sliced up and sold off to neighboring farms. They give your Nana tiny cuts of the profit, something to do with southern hospitality and it being a widow’s homestead. She’s still gardening, though she probably shouldn’t given her old age. Trying to take gardening gloves from Nana Monroe is like trying to wrangle a wild horse. Still, Steve’s wage must be meager, all things considered. No wonder why he’s living in a shed.

“Nana, I didn’t come here to date.”

“Well, what did you come here for?” She says, turning around and crossing her arms. Then, realizing the harshness of her words, she sighs. Dusting flour off of her palms and onto her worn apron, she rubs her thumb across your cheekbone. You can’t help but revel in the gesture. “You know I love having you around darlin’, but I know you didn’t decide to come spend the summer with your grandma just for kicks.”

The truth of the matter wasn’t easy. It was hard to swallow and tasted a lot like failure.

“I haven’t figured it out just yet, but when I do I’ll let you know.”

—

Drinks have been poured, food has been served, and the birthday cake has been cut. It seems the entire population of Sweet Dreams has overtaken the living and dining rooms, and you wouldn’t be shocked if that ended up being the case. If you had to count the number of inane conversations where you repeated the same five facts about yourself to people who haven’t seen you since you were fifteen, you might combust.

Everyone assumes that just because you go to school in California, you must be living the high life. Beaches and parties and sunsets on the West Coast seemed like a dream to those who live and die in land-locked states, yearning for the smell of salt air and sand beneath their toes.

You know better. California does have all the glitz and glam and charm that they seem to think it does, but it also is an agricultural state. The cities that aren’t highly populated, with bustling nightlife and celebrity mansions, are mostly cow towns. You’ve seen these places while driving down the 5 highway. It doesn’t escape your notice that the exact places that remind you the most of home, are the same ones that people pass by in hopes of getting to somewhere better. They sit in their air-conditioned cars and breathe through their mouths, hoping to drown out the stench of cow manure.

Never mind the fact that the curtains for your dorm were too sheer to block out the city lights, leaving you up for all hours of the night. Or the fact that, while you loved the beach, sometimes you longed for freshwater and mud between your toes rather than salt and sand. You still brought back pictures from when you and your friends decided to take a weekend trip, forking over small amounts of gas money and bartering meal plans in lieu of cash. The pictures spin a different story. One of a girl who knows what she’s doing and living her best life. Never mind that the thread being spun felt more like you were coming unraveled.

The back porch has always been your refuge when parties get too loud and the temperature inside gets so hot that it seems like even the floral wallpaper has started wilting. You sneak out through the kitchen door, relieved that there’s no one there to catch you. Nana usually would have noticed your absence by now, but she’s distracted. Uncle Chuck brought out his acoustic guitar and your grandmother has never passed up an opportunity to perform for others.

You sigh, taking one last bite of rhubarb pie before setting the paper plate down on the ground next to you. Testing the porch swing, you’re delighted to find that it’s still just as sturdy as ever. It used to be that you’d have to sit at the very edge of the seat in order to get it to swing without help, the tips of your sneakers barely grazing the ground. Now, you lean back and your feet are planted steady on the wooden planks below.

You and Steve used to play pirates here, pretending that the sway of the swing was the rocking of the ocean against a mighty ship. You’ve never felt more unmoored.

The screen door creaks as it swings open, and you brace yourself for Nana’s lilting voice, telling you to come inside and entertain guests. It doesn’t come. Instead, a deep timbre casts itself out into the night air. Despite the lingering warmth of the day’s heat and the lack of a night breeze, you feel goosebumps rise up on your arms.

“Not having a good time?” Steve asks. His figure is backlit, bathed in the golden light of the kitchen.

“No, I am. Just–” You take a moment to think of an explanation that won’t give too much away. “Needed a breather, I guess.”

He hesitates. “Maybe I should go then.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been told I take people’s breath away.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can barely hide the smile that tugs at your lips. “You are insufferable, Steve Harrington.”

The smirk on his face grows into a full-blown grin. “It’s one of my better qualities.”

Steve sidles up next to you, hand wrapped around a beer. It’s amazing to think that the last time you saw him, the two of you would have to bend backward to sneak the bitter liquor out of the coolers without anyone noticing. Now, you’re both of age to where nobody blinks an eye. The thought makes your chest feel tight.

“So why are you out here?”

“Do you mean why am I in Tennessee? Or why am I on the porch?”

He shrugs. “Either one.”

You shrug your shoulders, sitting back and letting your feet swing and scrape across the wooden floorboards of the porch. “I just felt like I needed to come back. Remind myself of some things I felt like I was forgetting.”

Steve nods like he gets it, and opens his mouth as if to say something but decides against it. What instead comes out is an olive branch.

“I’m sorry if I offended you with the whole Jackson thing yesterday.” He offers sincerely. “And about missing dinner. I was so busy working on the car yesterday that I forgot I had to fix the Tillman’s chicken coop.”

You put on an air of faux contemplation. “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.”

“Thank god, I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.” He playfully puts his hand over his heart before letting it drop to his side, lingering in the limited space between you. “Took me a second to recognize you–you look so different.”

Steve looks different, too. Baby fat has melted away to reveal high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Once gangly limbs have filled out into broad shoulders and muscles that strain against the cotton of his t-shirt. He was always cute, you’d be remiss to pretend that he wasn’t. But the year in Sweet Dreams seems to have been treating him well because now he resides on this side of ruggedly handsome.

“Good different or bad different?” There’s an underlying current of something in your question, but you’re not sure what.

“Good different.” He casts a sidelong glance at you before looking out at the backyard, saying the next statement into the lip of his beer bottle. “Same bratty attitude though.”

“Hey!” You squeal in mock offense, lightly smacking the back of your hand against his chest. The movement comes like a second nature, remnants from childhood squabbles. In the microseconds it takes for you to draw your hand away, you take notice of the solid mass of muscles hidden underneath his white t-shirt.

He’s full-on smirking now. “Nice to know some things never change.”

“You’re one to talk,” You retort. He quirks a brow at you. “You’ve always been such a charmer. I’m pretty sure you’ve got the entire female population of Sweet Dreams wrapped around your finger.”

He gives you a meaningful look. “Not the entire female population.”

You have a sharp reply sitting at the tip of your tongue, pointing directly at Steve, when someone calls his name from inside. It’s Uncle Chuck, insisting that the man sitting next to you join him in a duet.

“Well,” He stands up, brushing his palms on his denim-clad legs. “I should probably head back inside.”

You hum in acknowledgment, only ever so slightly disappointed, but make no move to leave your spot on the porch swing. “Don’t let me keep you.”

Steve opens the screen door but props it open with his foot. The golden light from the kitchen is on his face now, and you can see the soft edges of the boy you once knew.

“Welcome home, honeybee,” He says simply, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

With that, he steps back inside and the screen door slams shut. You’re left alone on the back porch, breathless.

—

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