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pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months ago

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Dave Lizewski x best friend fem!reader

Summary: Dave is devastated by your supposed crush on his alter-ego, Kick-Ass.

Genre: hurt and comfort, fluff

Warnings: jealous!Dave, swearing, not explicitly consensual kissing (both of them are okay with it however!), blood

~ thank you for requesting, anon!! this was a very cute idea!~

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

The comic store was more crowded than usual that afternoon. You, Todd, Marty, and Dave had squeezed into your usual booth, with you and Dave squished shoulder to shoulder as he rambles on and on as you stare at the small TV in the corner which is playing more news coverage about Kick-Ass. Your cheeks feel significantly warmer.

"She's drooling again," Marty quips, and all three boys turn and look at you with interest.

"Who knew girls were so horny," Todd comments with a smirk and sucks his milkshake obnoxiously.

Dave, unlike the other two, looks positively flustered as he watches you. His eyes land on the screen and then on yours.

"Hm, doesn't the suit look good on him," you hum and sigh, turning to your friends with a serious expression. "Do'you think he's young? He looks young."

"Looks around our age, so I suppose that means you're free to bone him, Y/n." Todd shrugs.

That makes Dave blush crimson.

You slap Todd's arm from across the table. "Shut up."

"We all know you want to," Marty adds and sips his milkshake like he knows something. You chew on your lip, subconsciously leaning into Dave as you turn back to look at the TV and let out an amused sigh as your eyes stay glued onto the screen.

This isn't the first time you're pining over Kick-Ass. You've been doing it for a while now and it makes Dave blush every damn time. Some part of him feels like an asshole for feeling that way about you considering you aren't drooling over him. Not over Dave, your best friend.

No, you're drooling over a superhero who is completely different from himself. His alter-ego, someone who is undeniably so much better than him.

How can Dave Lizes ever compete with Kick-Ass?

Todd kicks him in the shin but you're too entranced to sense the tension.

"What?" Dave mouths and his cheeks flame crimson when Todd points between you and him and makes obnoxious kissing noises. Dave sends his friends a frown and shushes them with a shake of his head. Luckily for him, you aren't paying any attention as you watch the screen, your mind focused on only one thing.

How does Kick-Ass look so damn good in that stupid costume?

* * *

Sirens go off as Dave limps away, blood staining his lip. He's not badly hurt, just a little shaken up. It isn't like he could feel much of the pain anyway. He sniffs and wipes a hand under his lip, groaning. The air is cold and the night is cloudy. He's been so preoccupied by you that he's been shit at his job—or worse than usual.

Dave prepares to walk home when he hears a small sniffle from behind a tree in the park he's walking by. He frowns,something stirring in his chest as if pulling him toward the sound.

Someone could be hurt.

He forces some bravado as he rounds the park gate and approaches the tree, the sniffling becoming louder.

His body stiffens when he sees you huddled behind a dress, wearing that dress you'd shown him a thousand pictures of. Realization dawns on him. Corey Addams. You did have a date with him tonight.

That dickhead.

"What are you doing here?" The question comes out weirdly interrogating as Dave's voice lowers in an attempt to have him be unrecognizable to you and you jump, looking up as you frantically paw at your teary cheeks.

Dave feels like a jerk as he watches your face morph into one of panic and he kneels down, now panicked in his own way. "Hey, hey, it's okay. M' not gonna hurt you. Are you okay?"

He's fumbling with his words, unsure if he's even doing the right thing. You blink at him, your eyes still watery. Dave knows you have a crush on Kick-Ass so this must be extra embarrassing and in his panic, he looks you up and down and fakes a much too insightful educated guess as a way to make you comfortable.

"Did you just get dumped?"

You scrunch up your nose in confusion and shake your head. Your crying has ceased and you huddle your arms around your legs, resting your chin on your knee. You sigh and look around at the mostly empty park.

"I'm hopeless," you say, not looking at Kick-Ass in particular.

Dave swallows and fully sits down now, unsure what else he can do. As a superhero he wants to make sure you're safe, and as your best friend, he has a burning desire to stay with you. You turn to him and chuckle out a laugh, sniffling.

"What's so funny?" he asks, confused.

"Me. I'm a fucking joke," you whisper, laughing as you try not to cry again. "I'm so stupid."

"Why do you say that?" Dave asks in a rush, his voice high again. You're too busy self-loathing to hear the change.

"Because I spend all my fucking time pretending that the one boy I am in love with, I am not actually in love with him! A-and then I go around trying to forget him with any boy that smiles my way or simply walks by and they're never good enough."

Dave thinks you're talking about Kick-Ass and he panics even more. "I-"

"Like how fucking stupid am I? Rambling on and on about you when all I want is him?"

Dave's heart sinks. Shit, he thinks, so you must be talking about Corey then.

After a beat of silence, he says, "I'm sure your date likes you back." He assumes you're most likely overwhelmed since you had said Corey didn't dump you and it's late and—

"My date?" you laugh, "What are you talking about? No. Not my date. My best friend," you ramble on, tears still falling. "I love him and I've messed it up too many times pretending like I don't. I- and Corey told me David's in love with Katie and I just feel so stupid."

You're too distraught to catch on to how weird it is that Kick-Ass has more information about your date than he should as you ramble on and on to him as if he understands who everyone is. Dave can tell you're mostly just speaking out your frustrations.

"D-David?"

You nod, sniffling. "Dave. My best friend, the guy I'm in love with," you tell him and look at Kick-Ass, groaning immediately and then holding your face in your hands like you'd just done something shameful. "Fuck, I'm sorry, this is inappropriate. I'm so sorry I am wasting your time—"

You lower your hands and then he's kissing you before you can finish the sentence. His hands cup around your cheeks as he leans in and continues to kiss you.

You lose yourself in the moment for a bit, your very real yet superficial attraction to Kick-Ass kicking in as you kiss him back until reality finally snaps in and you push him away, scrambling up.

"What the fuck?!" you scream, feeling violated as you wipe your lips with your hand.

Dave panics now fumbles with his costume. "W-Wait, let me explain," he mutters as he frantically pulls at the zipper behind his neck and throws his mask onto the dirt. He looks up, brown curls falling in front of his eyes. Your eyes widenand you blink at him.

"Hi," Dave mumbles, his blue eyes shining as the tips of his ears burn.

"Fuck!" you shriek and lean forward, kneeling again as you now cover his face with your hands, all kinds of emotions overcoming you. "What is wrong with you?!" You grab his mask, shoving it in his hands. Your heart is pounding as he stumbles, falling over from the roughness of the way you're tackling him.

He grunts and holds your waist with one hand as he pushes your hands away to pull his mask back on. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!" he mutters as he attempts to zip it up. You mumble curses and take over, adjust the fabric as you sit back on your heels and simply watch him.

Dave.

Kick-Ass is Dave?!

You swat his arm repeatedly. "You fucker!!"

"O-ow!" Dave winces as he shields himself from the blows.

You continue to hit him, your mind unable to process anything anymore— "I can't believe you hide this from me! And that you kissed me?! You fucking perv!" you shout, with no real bite behind your words as your palm rests on his toned chest.

Fuck.

Dave sits back as your assaults calm down and groans. "I'm sorry."

"Bullshit," you clap back, staring at him. "You aren't sorry. You did that on purpose because I–" you cover your mouth with your hands, "I admitted I have a crush on you."

Dave grins widely, some confidence coming back as he nods his head.

"Kill me," you mutter.

"Kiss you?" he asks. He's looking at you with his striking blue eyes, chewing on his lower lip. You look at him in his costume and now it all makes sense. Duh, Dave Lizewski is Kick-Ass! It's all in the eyes. How could you have missed them?

"What?"

"You just asked me to kiss you."

You pause for a moment but then you break out into laughter.

"I didn't," you say.

Dave leans away, hurt written across his features. "But you want it," he tries. "Y/n I have loved you for years. How could you not know?"

He looks completely serious. You know him. You've known him for years. You know that look behind his eyes. Your expression softens and warmth fills your chest.

"You can't go around kissing girls without their permission," you whisper, inching forward as your eyes drift to his lip. Dave's lips.

Dave leans in, almost entranced as he senses your movements. You've always been connected but this feels like a magnetic pull. "I don't plan on kissing any other girls, just you," he says honestly, not even trying to make a move, "but I should have asked you. I'm sorry. I should have—"

It's your turn to pull him in, crashing your lips against his. It isn't smart, kissing Kick-Ass out in the open like this but neither you nor Dave seem to care. Your lips move rhythmically with his and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer.

Dave's gloved hands tighten around your hips, pulling you in even closer as he loses himself in you. You feel so at ease as he deepens the kiss, only pulling away to catch your breath. Dave's looking at you from behind his mask, his chest heaving.

You lean in and hug him, holding him close. "Why didn't you tell me you liked me?" you whisper.

Dave wraps his arms around your middle. "Why didn't you?" he counters.

You grin against his shoulder. "Smartass."

Once you pull away again, Dave stands and holds out his hand. He pulls you up and looks around. Thankfully no one is around. "Let me walk you home?"

You nod and nudge his shoulder as you walk. He laughs and pushes you away a little—just like always. A comfortable silence falls upon you both and you itch to hold his hand. Instead, you ask softly.

"You're careful, right?" You look at his costume.

It's barely audible but Dave hears you anyways. He nods.

"Yeah. I always am."

Your hand grazes his and your chest fills with warmth.

"Good. Can't lose you when I've only just gotten you."

tags: @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

#dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski x fem!reader #dave lizewski x y/n #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski blurb #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski fanfiction #dave lizewski fanfic #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski kick ass #aaron taylor johnson fic #aaron taylor johnson fanfiction #aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson kick ass

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fluentmoviequoter · 8 months ago

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Celebrity Crush

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You have what some might consider to be an odd celebrity crush. Until you meet him in real life, that is. | 1.1k+ words of fluff!

Part 2: Celebrity Crush, Table for Two >

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

As you twirl your straw in your drink, you tune out the conversation of your friends. The message to get ready had come last minute, with only a few minutes to prepare for an outing before your best friend arrived to pick you up. You had been watching a true-crime documentary when the message came through, and rather than listen to your friends discuss their weekend plans, you think about the case in the show. Or, more specifically, one of the officers who worked the case.

“Hello,” one of your friends calls.

She draws the word out and waves a hand in front of your face, which you bat away when your attention returns to the restaurant and the people around you.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “What are we talking about?”

“Celebrity crushes!” she cheers. “Mine is Tom Cruise.”

“Gross! He’s old enough to be your dad,” another girl comments.

“And he can pay for everything like my dad, too.”

“Can we move on?” someone interrupts. “Who’s yours?”

“Mine?” you clarify, pointing at yourself. “Oh, uh, you probably haven’t heard of him.”

“C’mon, spill!” they encourage.

You shake your head, and the friend closest to you repeats, “Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Tim Bradford,” you answer softly.

“Who?”

“He’s a cop, and he’s been in some documentaries. Like the ones with Corey Harris and Aaron Thorsen. Plus, a new one with doppelgangers,” you explain.

“So, he’s a cop, not a celebrity,” your best friend argues.

“He’s been on TV! More than once,” you point out.

“Girl, you know I love you, but that’s more of a ‘hear me out’ than a celebrity crush.”

You shake your head and sit back in your seat. The sooner you get home to finish the documentary, the better.

The next day, after you’ve finished the newest documentary and your crush on Tim Bradford has strengthened, you find yourself out shopping with your friends. Thankfully, they’ve moved on from the celebrity crush comment. While you’re in the third store of the day, you wait in the dressing rooms to rate your best friends’ choices while the other girls shop.

An employee approaches you with a nervous smile and asks if anyone else is in the fitting area.

“Yes, one of my friends is trying something on. Is everything okay?” you answer.

“Oh, of course. I don’t want to alarm you, but we’ve locked the doors because there are some suspicious characters in the area. The police are on the way, so everything will be under control soon.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” you say.

She sighs in relief that you were kind about the ordeal, then walks away to alert other customers. You look toward the large windows on the storefront but don’t see anything happening in the parking lot.

A few minutes later, after your friends have purchased their items and are waiting to leave, two police officers walk to the locked door and knock on it. The employee you spoke to earlier rushes to let them in and obeys when the male officer instructs her to lock the door again.

“Ladies, we’re with the LAPD,” the shorter man says. “Our colleagues are outside handling the situation as we speak. However, we need your help; if you’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary today, please meet me at the counter and we’ll fill out a report.”

The employees follow him to the counter, and you realize that he is in the documentaries you’ve been watching. As you turn to look outside again, you see the other officer.

“Are you Sergeant Tim Bradford?” you ask.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers. “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, I just watched the documentaries you were in and thought it was you. Your insight was informative; I liked listening to your side of the case.”

He smiles kindly and says, “I’m glad.”

You nod, then step back and look around the store. Unsure how much longer you’ll have to wait, you take a moment to look at the merchandise. You usually tag along on shopping trips but don’t buy anything. Your friends have different tastes than you, and an easier time buying things for themselves. One item catches your eye, and you run your finger over it. They have your preferred size, and you tap it a few times before you look away again.

Unknown to you, Tim watches you. He’s seen people come up to Aaron, Lucy, and even Nolan, and claim to have seen them on television. Those encounters usually end with someone asking for a picture, an autograph, and, once, to get their cousin released early. This is the first time he’s heard a genuine compliment, and he’s happy to have been the one you chose to give it to.

“Officer Bradford?” his partner calls. “A word?”

You smile at Tim when you look toward him, and with his eyes already on you, he notices immediately. He dips his chin as he walks past you, and you walk across the room to your friends.

“Wait, is that your celebrity crush?” your best friend whispers. “You didn’t say he was like… Abercrombie model hot!”

You shrug, and she turns to your other friends to talk about how attractive the officers are. Your gaze wanders back to the only thing in the store you’d ever consider buying, but you shake your head and look at Tim Bradford instead.

“The situation has been handled and the area is safe now. You’re free to go,” he announces. “Thank you for your help.”

Your friends rush out, eager to get to another store, but you walk toward the door at a normal pace. Tim and his partner are walking out too, and you hold the door for them.

“Go ahead,” Tim tells his partner. “Thanks,” he says to you.

He stops beside you, and you let the door close. After a glance over his shoulder, Tim passes you a bag.

“What is this?” you inquire.

“A thank you.”

“For?”

“Being nice. Plus, you didn’t ogle me like your friends.”

You chuckle and smile as you argue, “You’ve got to be used to that.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

You peek in the bag and see the item you were looking at. “I can’t accept this.”

“The ladies inside told me I had to take something for keeping them safe.”

“And you got me something?” Tim smiles, and you shake your head. “Thank you.”

“If you’d really like to thank me or hear more about those cases you seem to like so much, maybe we could meet for dinner sometime.”

“I would love that.”

“Great. I have to go, but… give me a call.”

You watch him leave, then realize that he didn’t give you his number. As you walk away, you pull the receipt from the bag. But it isn’t a receipt. It’s a piece of paper with his name and number. Under that, he wrote, I never wanted to be a celebrity crush before today.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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v6quewrlds · 23 days ago

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Joe Burrow + Fluff/Angst ❤️‍🔥

imagine being joe's gf at ohio state.

In the dimly lit living room of a cramped college apartment, your laughter filled the air as you watched Joe and his friends engage in a heated round of Madden. The laughter of the girls contrasted with the cackling of the guys as they trashed talked each other's virtual football skills. You leaned back into Joe's warmth, your head resting comfortably on his broad shoulder. His arms wrapped around your waist, locking you in place against him as he held his controller tightly, eyes glued to the TV screen.

One of the girls handed you the dwindling blunt and you took a slow drag. You could feel the tension building in Joe's shoulders as you balanced the blunt between your thumb and index finger, you knew he was getting ready to make a big play. The boys went quiet, anticipating the outcome, and then erupted in cheers and disappointed complaints as Joe scored a touchdown. He leaned back, smugly grinning, and kissed your cheek before turning his attention back to the game.

You smiled to yourself as you held the blunt up to Joe's mouth for him to take a hit. His eyes remained on the game, but his expression grew serious as he took it from you. He inhaled deeply, the tip glowing brightly before he released it from his mouth. The smoke curled around your friends, adding a layer of comfort to the already cozy atmosphere. You felt his shoulders relax slightly as his jaw unclenched, the smoke escaping through his lips like second nature.

“You want more?” you asked softly, turning a bit to look at Joe.

“Nah, I’m good for now.” He turned down another hit, his gaze still on the game. You handed the blunt off to the next eager participant and turned your attention back to Joe. His eyes flickered over to yours, and you saw the flicker of lowered inhibitions as his high began to set in.

The conversation grew louder as the game continued, and the topic of football inevitably shifted toward Joe's future at Ohio State. One of the guys, Shawn, a high-school friend of Joe's, brought the topic up with a nonchalance that drew a silent frown out of you. “Joe, you really think you're gonna stay?” he asked, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

Joe simply shrugged, his thumbs never faltering on the controller. “I don't know, man,” he replied, his voice thick with the smoke he'd just inhaled. “It's kind of up in the air right now.”

You sat up straighter. This was news to you. You thought the two of you had put the transfer talk to rest after his spring game last week. The last time you talked about it, Joe mentioned that it wasn't super realistic for him to start over at a new program with only two more years of eligibility left. But here he was, casually talking about it with his friends like it was something he was still seriously considering.

You held back the urge to press him on the matter right there. Instead, you reached for your phone to pretend you were scrolling through social media while your mind raced with questions. The others around you kept talking about it, asking Joe questions about the rumors, but you tried your best to keep your cool.

“What schools you lookin' at?” one of the other guys, Corey, asked, leaning back into the couch cushions.

Joe took a sip of his drink before answering. “Couple of options. Maybe UC or LSU. Gettin' a visit from Coach O soon, so we'll see what that's all about.”

You felt your stomach drop. The University of Cincinnati was still in Ohio, but LSU? That was a whole different world, a place where you would be a fourteen-hour drive away from him. You tried to keep your face neutral, not wanting to make a scene, but your body grew rigid against Joe's chest involuntarily. The conversation around you grew more animated as the guys threw out more names of schools with storied football programs. Your mind was racing, trying to understand what had changed since your last talk about his future.

As the conversation switched to a different topic, you couldn't help but feel a growing knot in your stomach. The room's chatter became a distant buzz as you processed the potential reality of Joe leaving Ohio State, and with it, the comfort of your relationship. You stared at the TV screen, watching the players run across the digital field, but your thoughts were a million miles away.

You released a breath before turning to whisper in Joe's ear, “Transferring is still on the table?” Your voice held a hint of accusation, but Joe's eyes remained on the game.

“Yeah, I know I said it wasn’t realistic, but things have changed a little,” Joe murmured, his eyes flicking to yours briefly before returning to the game. “My spring game put other schools on notice, and it’s not like Urban’s made a decision yet. Dwayne and J.T. are still in the mix, and I can’t just sit here and wait around, you know?”

You nodded, your throat tight. You knew Joe was a talented player who wanted - and deserved - more than just riding the bench, waiting in the wings for his big break. But you hadn't anticipated it would happen this way. Your heart was racing, and you took a sip of your drink to calm yourself. You didn’t want to argue in front of his friends, so you leaned back into his embrace, trying to keep your feelings in check. As if extending an olive branch, Joe's arms tightened around you, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head.

#&. joey b.#joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black!reader #joe burrow angst #joe burrow imagine #x black!reader #x black reader #black!reader #black fem reader

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kendrysaneela · 2 months ago

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Character Guide to the Throuple Boat Show (aka Doctor Odyssey)

I figured I would make a character guide for anyone new to the boat throuple show (AKA Doctor Odyssey) or people who are thinking about watching.

Let’s start with the throuple (ship name Ody3)

Avery Morgan:

Sexuality: Unconfirmed but fandom headcanon as bisexual

Only one in the throuple in custody of the brain cell 24/7

Is an NP on ship she has 8 years of schooling

Initiated their first threesome

First one to bring up being a throuple to the boys

Made out with both boys in the first two episodes

Has worked with Tristan for three years

Had an ex husband who she knew since kindergarten who cheated on her with her best friend and the best friend and the ex husband have triplets now. She says she’s over the fact that this happened and that marriage leads to nothing but agony

Had to have her appendix removed by Max and Tristan in the middle of a hurricane on the cruise ship while it was rocking back and forth severely at one point Max had to brace himself with his feet on the wall.

Wants to perform because she wants to feel joy and be bold

Has two best friends she’s had since third grade who come to visit her on the ship (different from the one who is with her ex husband)

Has been to the Eras Tour three times with said friends

Queer lingo she identifies as during Gay Week: Femme

(Yes Gay Week is literally one of the themes of the week and they all do a queer lingo quiz beforehand to ensure they are all up to date and all state what they are yes this was a real scene)

Tristan Silva:

Sexuality: Unconfirmed but fandom headcanon as bisexual

Shares custody of the brain cell with Max

Is a Nurse on the ship

Mommy issues

First one to bring up the idea of wanting to have a threesome. Not with the three of them just in general.

Is the first one to accept Avery’s invitation to have a threesome when she initiates

Has been in love with Avery for years

Sunshine personified

Has worked on other cruise ships before the Odyssey

Favorite food is chicken tikka masala crisps (this is significant I promise)

Enjoys the male attention from all the gay men during Gay Week

Part of the weekly boys,butches and bis poker game

(Yes there is a canon weekly poker game named boys,butches and bis)

Queer lingo he identifies as during Gay Week: Twunk

Max Bankman:

Sexuality: Unconfirmed but fandom headcanon as bisexual

Ship’s doctor

Shared custody of the brain cell with Tristan. Tristan has the brain cell more often

Incredibly repressed

Third to join threesome

The Ody3 threesome is the second threesome he has had in his life

Was patient zero for COVID in Connecticut in 2020 (yes really that is actually his backstory)

Is sunshine in human form

Makes out with Avery in the pilot right in front of Tristan right after Tristan tells him he’s in love with her.

Watches from afar as Tristan and Avery kiss literally the next episode

Obsessed with rubber ducky pollution

In the pilot while they were operating on a man’s broken penis Max, unprompted, told Tristan and Avery he has a big dick that he broke sophomore year of college

Part of the weekly butches,boys and bis poker game

Queer Lingo he Identifies as during Gay Week: Everyone calls him Daddy but he says he’s a jock. Everybody tells him that’s not a thing and he is indeed a Daddy.

Captain Robert Massey:

Sexuality: Straight but a big queer ally always willing to learn

Captain of the ship

Has a gay polyamorous younger brother (played by John Stamos)

Knows lots of gay lingo willing to be quizzed on it

Seemingly an Ody3 shipper

Queer Lingo he Identifies as during Gay Week: Silver Fox

Rosie:

Sexuality: Lesbian

Chief Engineer of the ship

Doesn’t understand climate change

Lesbian/Bisexual solidarity with Corey

Is part of the weekly Boys,Butches and Bis Poker Game

Queer Lingo she Identifies as during Gay Week: Masc

Corey:

Sexuality: Bisexual

Head of Housekeeping

Always down for partying

Lesbian/Bisexual solidarity with Rosie

Is part of the weekly Boys,Butches and Bis Poker Game

Queer Lingo he Identifies as during Gay Week: Twink

Spencer Monroe:

Sexuality: Unknown

First Officer of the ship

Accidentally ate saltwater taffy with psilocybin in the middle of a hurricane once (not his fault he thought it was just normal saltwater taffy)

Part of the weekly boys,butches and bis poker game

Vivian Montgomery:

Sexuality: Unknown

Chef on the ship

First came on during a Wellness episode where her whole thing was making raw food

She said she didn’t actually like making raw food so the ship hired her to make food she could actually cook

Has also kissed Tristan. Avery is jealous about it. (I would not be disappointed if she made Ody3 Ody4 instead.)

#doctor odyssey #Ody3 #avery morgan #Tristan Silva #max bankman #captain robert Massey #long Doctor odyssey posts

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fallstaticexit · 5 months ago

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Prev / Next / Beginning

TW: Blood (from nosebleed) Transcript / AN under the cut

AN: Please enjoy this sound effect in my head when Geoffrey got the daylights knocked out of him . / also, thought I’d have MM episode ready , but not quite! So here’s another Nancy update ✨

Transcript:

Nancy Narrating: [I fell asleep thinking about Vanessa. I woke up thinking about Vanessa. When I would see her again. What we would do that day. What new little thing I’d learn about her]

Cassie: Did you want to sit with me and Bobby and watch the match tonight? Bobby is bringing the snacks; he can bring your favorites too.

Nancy: No thanks. I’m going to go with Vanessa.

Nancy: What?

Cassie: You know my old roommate, Angela? She was pretty close to VV. She’s kind of the reason she left the school.

Nancy: So?

Cassie: Vanessa started being really mean to her. She made the other girls call her names; it was awful. I just don’t want that to happen to you. VV always seems sweet at first, but when she doesn’t get her way...

Nancy: [scoffs] You clearly don’t know her like I do. She’s my best friend. It may have been that way with other girls, but she cares about me.

Cassie: ...just be careful. If not for her, then definitely for Dina and Nina. I think they’re worst.

Nancy Narrating: [I didn’t expect anyone to understand the connection we shared. There wasn’t a single person in the world that loved Vanessa as much as I did]

Nancy: [panting] Where’s Vanessa? She wasn’t in class this morning and I’ve looked everywhere for her.

Dina: Damn. Hello to you too.

Nancy: Sorry- it’s just, we always walk to class together. I feel like I haven’t seen her all morning. I’ve probably been all over campus looking for her.

Dina: Uh-huh...

Nina: [mutters to Dina] See? [to Nancy] They did a room check and found her Playboys. Guess she sucks at hiding them. She’s getting chewed out for it. This is her like, third strike, they might call her dad.

Nancy Narrating: [Vanessa was constantly monitored by the teachers and church nuns, who were quick to report back to her father]

[Their most effective tool for discipline was shame]

Sister Agnes: How vile! Pornography? This is prohibited! Your father will surely not be pleased to hear about your actions, young lady.

Nancy Narrating: [Maybe that’s why she craved freedom as much as I did]

Sister Agnes: Is that what it will take for you to behave and carry yourself like a proper young lady? Will your father have to come pay you a visit?

Vanessa: [mutters] No, Sister Agnes. I will never do anything like this again. Please. Don’t call my father.

Dina: So, is your ass grass or what?

Nina: Yeah, did they bar you from going to the game?

Vanessa: Nope! Your girl is off the hook! I just have council with Father Mayhew for the next week but they’re not going to call my dad.

Nina: If anyone can weasel out of trouble, it’s you, VV.

Nancy: [sighs happily] That’s a relief.

Vanessa: Nothing will stop me from hanging out with my girls, right, Nance? Come on, let’s skip last period so we can get good seats for the game.

Vanessa: Don’t look, but is Corey Howard checking me out?

Nancy: Yeah. He can’t take his eyes off you.

Vanessa: Oh yeah? How’s my hair?

Nancy: It’s perfect. You’re perfect.

Vanessa: Nancee [giggles] don’t make me blush! Cheer with me, okay?

Corey: Look alive, Osteer. The ladies are always watching.

Don: OSTEER! Look out!!

Corey: I’d die of embarrassment if it were me.

Don: [tsks] Nap time is over, princess. Hit the bench.

Nancy: You’re still so clumsy.

Geoffrey: Huh?

Nancy: Your dad threw a party once and you split your head open on the mantel. It was really disgusting.

Geoffrey: You... remember me?

Nancy: That was only 7 years ago. If either of us had amnesia, it would be you. Hold still.

Geoffrey: Well… I remember you used to cry when you got dirt in your sandals.

Nancy: What? [laughs] Did I really?

Geoffrey: [chuckles nervously] Yeah, it was kinda adorable. I mean-

Geoffrey: ...Y-you know, in a way…I guess.... um...

Vanessa: [sighs] This game is so boring, Nance. Want to get out of here?

Nancy: Of course. Wherever, whenever.

Vanessa: That’s my girl! Sorry about your face, Jeffrey.

Geoffrey: Actually, it’s Geoffrey! [sighs] ....nevermind..

Nina: I have an idea.

#the art of being seen #tw blood #the landgraabs #sims 4 simblr #sims 4 stories #ts4 simblr #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 #sims 4 community #ts4 story #nancy landgraab

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batri-jopa · 7 months ago

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"Currently"

Since I've already been tagged by both @figuringthengsout and @notasapleasure I should finally do something about it🫡

favorite color: recently it's yellow💛💛💛 Juicy mango type of yellow the most. Often combined with black and white because I enjoy looking like an oriole:

last song: Tina Turner - GoldenEye

last movie: Mask (1994) (and maaan how I never suspected I would look at Stanley Ipkiss as a relateable character when I grow older...😅)

currently reading: Romans na receptę - another one of few books by Monika Szwaja that my mum borrowed in our local library. I like her style and it breaks my heart that she died being only 65🥺 There's always so much hope and friendliness and support in the world that she's depicting. And, fascinating enough, there's usually AroAllo woman representation somewhere and depicted in the positive way! Of course it is not called "aromantic" by a polish writer born in 1949, more likely for the main male character to call that "AroAllo" woman character a "robot" who "uses him as as a sex toy"🤭 - BUT nevertheless even the male protagonist really likes her, appreciates her skills as loyal assistant, treats her as good friend to confess his problems to and genuinely wishes her all the luck!👍 In other books you can expect other queers occasionally too (like a teenage son who turns out to have a boyfriend), but it's always in sympathetic and realistic yet bringing-back-faith-in-humanity kind of way🫠

currently watching: umm... nothing actually (I feel like a weirdo😑 Like maybe I should start watching sth finally just so I could fill in the meme next time around? I do have a lot of series on my "to watch list")

currently craving: MANAGE TO GET SHIT DONE!💪 seriously I need either only 2 working days a week instead of 3 or... better time organisation😩 (so what that I have 4 "free" days a week now when there are emails to answer and books to read, and my pictures to make into album, and family members to visit, and all the new pictures' ideas to draw, and new tumblr posts to create, and those fic-WIPs waiting for so long already, and... I wonder if scheduling everything in precize days and hours would help me to feel more organised somehow?🤔 or only feel more remourse for not being able to follow the schedule?😑)

tea or coffee: Oh, so glad you asked! Tea please, black, strong, no sugar, no milk. Lemon appreciated but not necessarily. Thank you!🫖☕️

Tagging: @zorilleerrant , @chrisoels , @swordoftheseeker , @kaiaprax , @imaginatorofthings , @parttimereptile , @corey-m13 - some of you won't play probably so I'm just saying a friendly "hi"👋

#just me #ask meme

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slvtforfiction · 1 year ago

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Who is most likely to? ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Colby X reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Established relationship

☆ Ignore how disgustingly horrible this is written I’m so sorry 🙏

☆ Suggestive (no smut)

☆ A like reblog and comment is always appreciated:) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post

Colby 🖤:

Do you wanna be in a video with Corey,Sam,Me and Jake?

You:

Yeah sure what is it?

Colby 🖤:

Who is most likely to,it’s for Sam’s channel x

You:

Okay cool I’ll come to the living room now I’m just doing my makeup give me like 10 minutes x

Colby 🖤:

Okay cool nw see you in a min x

I walked downstairs after finishing my eyeliner and walked to the kitchen next to the living room and grabbed a drink of water.

Colby came up behind me whilst I turned the tap on,he rested his head on my shoulder,his hands wrapped around my waist. “Hey baby.” I said smiling and turning around,his hands cornering me against the sink.

“You okay?” I asked as he kissed my neck. “Mhm.” He smiled as he kissed me cheek.

I smiled walking over to sofa,holding his fingers in my hand after he had stopped cornering me and we sat down next to each other as Sam began the intro.

“Might be weird,might be a little sexual,who knows?” Sam said and I laughed along with everyone else as Colby watched me with a soft gaze as he laughed along,his gaze lasting a bit too long for viewers to think were just friends.

I grabbed a card first because I was at the end of the sofa and read it aloud, “Who is most likely to be the hottest dilf.” And I burst out laughing hiding my face and pointing at Colby.

“Definitely Colby I could see him with a kid on his arm.” I said confidently sipping on my water.

“Nah it’s gotta be Corey.” Sam stated as everyone else pointed at Corey,I felt embarrassed,being the odd one out but everyone knew about our relationship and wouldn’t hold it against me let alone make fun of me.

Colby soon after picked up a card and read aloud, “Most likely to fall in love with someone much older?” And immediately hands were pointed at me.

“Just because I like fictional dilfs,this is discrimination.” I gasped jokingly,holding in a laugh “That’s exactly why we pointed at you.” Corey said laughing.

“Bully.” I said under my breathe in fake rage.We swiftly moved on after I fought back for a while.

Corey then picked up a card and burst out laughing trying to read out his card in a fit of laughter.

“Most likely to admit their darkest secret when drunk?” He finally got out and my head flew into my lap as everyone pointed at me.

I thought back to the day people found out me and Colby were sleeping together,how did this happen? Well exactly that I told everyone whilst I was drunk.

I didn’t mean to and Colby quickly dragged me away and back to Colby’s apartment where I slept and then woke up with memories I didn’t want,texts I didn’t want to reply to,a hangover that made me feel like death was upon me and a not so happy boyfriend.

“Okay so this is unfair.” I said calmly lifting my face up and feeling the obvious blush present on my face.

It soon circled back to my go and I picked up a card,when Sam said it was mostly weird and a little bit sexual he was lying.

It was heavily sexual with much less weird things than probably intended. I picked up my card praying for it to be funny and I sighed.

“Most likely to have a secret sex tape?” I said before I accepted defeat that I was never going to get a vanilla card…and then I pointed to Colby.

“Why me?!” Colby shouted and I giggled to myself “Colby have you made a secret tape?” I asked calmly and he laughed shaking his head accepting defeat himself.

It was only me who pointed at him,Colby pointed at Corey whilst everyone else pointed at Colby.

At this point Colby had accepted defeat and so I had,however for different reasons.

“Most likely to have kids?” Corey asked and I replied “Oh definitely you.” I said without hesitation.

Corey seemed like the person to have kids and most people knew that he did want kids at some point.

He said he hates kids but in actuality he’s a huge softie <3.

After the video was over me and Colby went back to his apartment and laid on the sofa together whilst he edited and I watched love hard on Netflix.

“You really think I’d be a dilf?” Colby asked me out of nowhere. “Definitely,I can see it already.” I said honestly laughing a little to myself.

“Sure love.”

#Spotify #spotify #smut #song #romance #cute #fluff #sam and colby fluff #colby smut #colby x reader #colby brock x reader #colby brock smut #colby brock #sam and colby #sam and kat #sam golbach #arctic monkeys

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year ago

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Mav’s daughter and Bradley trying to keep quiet in the room next door to him😳

THIS ONE IS SO LONG SHIT

Mav having all of his buddies over for a football night, it’s a big group of guys all hanging out in the living room, talking about guy stuff. When you get back from drinks with your friends early, you usually would’ve walked right past them and headed to your room. But, your eyes lock with Bradley Bradshaw’s — and seeing as he has already been screwing your brains out every chance that he has gotten for the past few months, your mind is swiftly changed.

He’s already looking over the short dress you had worn out as he lowers his beer away from his lips, his face growing serious as you drop your keys into the bowl by the door and stride confidently over.

“Hi, boys.” You smile, dropping down onto the couch between Bradley and a much older aviator — you can’t remember all of their call signs, that’s too much work. Maverick looks up from the screen and offers you a smile.

“Hey. How was Corrine’s birthday?” Maverick asks, his attention back on the game before he’s even done speaking. Bradley stares at the screen as the smell of your perfume fills his senses and makes his jeans just a smidge less comfortable.

“Corey’s. She got shitfaced and we had to take her home and put her to bed. Lucy’s staying with her.” You explain calmly, reaching out and curling your fingers around Bradley’s beer bottle. He releases it into your hand without protest, not able to stand the thought of your dad seeing you touching him.

You bring the bottle to your mouth and take a drink, humming contentedly as you pass the bottle back to him.

“That sounds like a good time.” Maverick mumbles, brows knitting together as yet another pass is fumbled by his team. Bradley glances down at you. You’re glaring across at Maverick. He knows you hate it when Mav pretends he’s listening to you.

You push yourself up from the couch and Bradley realises just how short your dress is as you have to adjust it.

“Alright, well, I’m just going to hit the hay,” You decide, knowing that Bradley’s the only person in this room listening to you. You lift your arms and stretch them up over your head. “Night, everybody.”

“G’night, kiddo.” Maverick waves you off absently. Bradley feels his throat tighten as he cranes his neck to watch you head towards the stairs. It’s been exactly six days since he was inside you last, and god, it feels like it’s been an eternity.

His eyes are trained in on you as you walk over to a purse that you had discarded on the stairs and bend down to dig through it. The dress does exactly what you want it to do, riding up just slightly and giving him the perfect view of the black panties between your legs.

And then, you disappear up the stairs. Bradley lifts the beer to his mouth and gulps down a quick drink. He knows you want him to follow you. He wants to. But there are like twelve guys in this house, all of whom are his coworkers and one of whom is your dad. He does his best to sit and focus on the game.

But he knows you’re up there waiting for him and he knows exactly which pair of panties you’re wearing, and it turns out that he’s a weaker man than he thought he was. Well, when it comes to you anyway.

He doesn’t even have to excuse himself, they’re all so focused on the score. He walks silently upstairs, crossing the hall and wrapping his fingers around your door handle. He already knows which room is yours, he has been here before.

He twists the handle and opens it, exhaling softly as he finds you out of the dress already and wearing his t-shirt. You’re laying back on your bed with your fingers dipped between your legs, your lip between your teeth.

Smiling, you take a second just to look him over. Just as handsome as when you had first seen him. Wearing a fitted black tee with his dog tags just visible under the collar, and a pair of faded blue jeans, his curls fixed. You press your thighs together and withdraw your hand from your underwear.

He steps inside and shuts the door behind him, crossing the room to press one knee down onto your bed and cover your body with his. He kisses your mouth deeply, fingers plucking softly at his t-shirt as it sits loosely over your body. “I thought I told you not to wear this around here.”

It’s got his squadron on it. Mav would know who’s it is in a heartbeat.

“Are you scared of my dad seeing it?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to be up here right now.” He tells you calmly, between deeper and deeper kisses. His big hands grab at your knees and part them easily, letting him settle between your thighs.

No, he’s not afraid of your father. He’s afraid of not seeing you again if Mav does find out. He’s afraid of the way that he feels about you now. He’s afraid of the fact that he couldn��t even make himself stay downstairs and just watch the game.

Bradley’s thick hands shove at the t-shirt, pulling it up and over your head. Downstairs, there’s a roar of cheers. Using the sudden volume to his advantage, he nudges your panties to the side and presses a finger into you, curling it expertly and making you jolt.

“Fuck.” You pant out against his lips. He groans softly as you push your hand between your grinding bodies and palm him over his jeans. “More.”

“You’ll take what I give you.” Rooster tells you firmly, feeling you clench around his finger response. He pulls back to look you in the eye. “Cute dress that you wore out tonight. I’ll bet the guys loved it.”

“They did.” You tease him, gasping as he pumps a second finger into you, curling them routinely and making your stomach tighten. “But I just want you. Only you, Rooster.”

He groans softly, lowering his mouth to adorn your chest with filthy, open-mouthed kisses. He knows that. He knows how badly you want him. He’s got the nudes on his phone, and your clothes at his place to prove it. But he loves how desperate you are for him. The way you stare at him across the room, or dangle off of his arm when he’s not paying you enough attention.

The way you’re looking up at him now.

Fuck, he adores it. It’s right as you’re about to cum on his fingers that he slaps a hand over your mouth. He knows by now that you couldn’t keep quiet if your life depended on it. Even with his thick palm covering your jaw, your sound is muffled but desperate as you push your heels into your sheets.

He checks his watch as you’re unbuckling his belt and shoving his jeans down. “Fuck,” He pants out as you’re taking him into your mouth. “Baby, it’s almost half-time. We’ve gotta — shit — we’ve gotta be quiet.”

You hum around him compliantly, but both of you know that it’s quite simply not going to be that easy. Plus, you’ve had to hide from Mav for long enough now that you really couldn’t care less by this point.

Bradley plants you on your back, both of you sighing in relief as he finally presses into you until your hips are flush to his. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours, his dog tags resting against your chin.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby girl.” Bradley whispers, his brown eyes looking just so endless when he’s up this close. You take your bottom lip between your teeth, trailing your fingertips along the muscles in his back. Bradley swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he looks down between your body and his. “I missed you. So much.”

You hum eagerly, lifting your mouth to pepper kisses along this thick throat. “Missed you too. Can’t believe you made me wait so long.”

“I know,” He groans softly as he starts to rock his hips, his bicep flexing as his fist balls into the soft florals adorning the pillow behind your head. “You were so good, waiting for me. We’ve gotta be quiet now, but I’m gonna make it up to you. Alright, baby? — How’s that sound?”

You giggle softly as he kisses your temple, the sound interrupted by a sharp moan as his cock hits something sensitive deep inside you.

“Shit.” Bradley pants out, brows drawing together as he pulls back to shake his head, still fucking into you slowly. “Shh, shh, shh. Here.”

He presses two digits into your mouth at once, his eyes practically rolling back in his head at the feeling of your tight pussy and warm mouth around him at once. His digits press at the back of your throat as he starts to pick up the pace, your moans muffled around them.

Then, when he’s got your knees pinned back against your chest and needs his hands free again, you turn your face into the crook of his neck, grabbing onto his broad shoulders desperately as you try to quiet yourself to the point that tears are brimming in your eyes.

“That’s it. Cum for me. I’m so fucking close, baby, I want you to do it for me.” He growls into your ear, feeling your nails digging into his shoulder blades in response. He snaps his hips forwards sharply as his thumb works circles on your clit. It’s got to be half-time by now, and as much as Mav irritates you — the last thing you want is for him to see you crying because of how hard you’re about to cum.

Turning your face away from his neck, you press your nails into his tanned skin, pressing your lips flush to his shoulder and grazing your teeth along the flesh. Bradley grunts, his hips stuttering as you quieten yourself by biting hard at the muscle there.

Your walls clenching around him as you ride out your own high sets him off, his hands white knuckling around the backs of your thighs as he spills inside of you.

And then he’s walking downstairs again, fully aware of your nail marks trailing in scorching red lines down his back. Not to mention the distinct bite mark on the swell of his shoulder. He settles back down onto the couch and picks up his beer, not making eye contact with a single person in the room. Not even the one who went upstairs to use the bathroom ten minutes ago and heard Mav’s daughter whimpering Rooster’s name.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #jake seresin #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #thots night (:#top gun smut

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pothame · 1 year ago

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marks boba eyes are making me feel extra bad for nick

#corey.txt #corey watches only friends #poor guy just wants a boyfriend

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thefanficmonster · 10 months ago

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Piss off your parents pt.2

PART 1

PART 3

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Drinking, Swearing

Genre: Angst, Friends to Lovers, Fake Dating, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Turns out, LA is packing way more surprises than you were prepared for.

He's still nursing the same drink he started the night with. Not by choice - he just knows that he might make some serious mistake if he indulges in anything more or stronger. The beer is treating him well.

Then again, if he sees Nate and Y/N making out one more fucking time he might steer to the whiskey.

He feels like a terrible friend, unsure of who he's being more unfair toward of the two. He should be happy for them. Like Sam. He can't take a page from his book, though. He can't be openly supportive and encouraging of the blooming romance between his friends. The most he can do is plaster on a strained fake smile and try to enjoy his night, keeping himself away from them. If he can't be a proper friend, the least he can do is not let his displeasure - and borderline selfishness - swim up to the surface.

Although his features are definitely giving a clear glimpse into the warzone that is his mind. Hard glare, set jaw, gritted teeth, furrowed brows. If Sam wasn't already several rounds deep he'd probably pick up on it instantly.

Thing is, he already has picked up on it. The avoidance, the cold shoulder, short-spokenness. He's been picking up on the clues for months but dared not bring it up. In his head, it makes no sense. To him, it always seemed like Colby and Y/N were the rom-com waiting to happen. Stolen glances, gentle touches, subtle affection, their own love language. All trademark Colby-Y/N stuff. Where Nate came into the equation is unclear to him.

Truthfully, nothing is clear to him right now. Which is why Colby is currently helping him off the table he can't remember climbing onto.

"Come on, dude. You're gonna break something important." He says, steadying his best friend when he hops down too enthusiastically for someone in his state.

Sam slurs a response but is grinning from ear to ear so he can only assume he's enjoying himself enough to not mind Colby gentle-parenting him. But also enjoying himself too much to be trusted and left to his own devices.

Scoping out the hotel club with a quick glance, Colby's gaze thankfully finds Corey. Who it doesn't find is the main culprits responsible for his deteriorating mental state. Where's a shot of whiskey when you need it?

"Mind watching over him for a bit? Imma go get a drink." He yells over the music directly into Corey's ear, nodding to the inebriated blonde who's swaying to the beat of the music without a care in the word. Colby aspires to be him in an hour, the risks of it be damned.

Corey accepts the duty, earning himself a grateful pat on the back from Colby who disappears into the crowd the same instant. He's heading toward the bar, eyeing the bottles lining the wall behind it greedily. He's sees the amber liquids as a sea he's about to drown his worries in.

That is if he can shake them, though.

And, try as he might, he can't.

Surveying the venue a couple more times, he feels a sickening pit settle into his gut at the absence of his two best friends. He can't remember when he lost sight of them nor how, especially since his eyes were glued to her the whole night.

Others would be a lot less concerned with this predicament. I mean, when two people like each other veryyy much, have had several drinks throughout the night and have disappeared from the party, it's pretty clear where they might be and what they might be doing. But Colby doesn't even wanna let his train of thought travel that way. Neither his heart nor his liver can handle that.

But that's when he spots Nate with Sam and Corey. Yet still no Y/N in sight.

Colby decides this calls for a search party.

He checks each and every corner of the club with upmost diligence. She's wearing a little black dress that is for sure to help her blend into the blur of the party with the minimal lighting and packed crowd. It's not a problem for him though, he could spot her from a plane. Which makes his lack of findings all the more concerning.

He eventually takes his search outside the club and into the hotel lobby. Then out on the sidewalk, then in the parking lot. He has soon scoped out the entire perimeter around the hotel without finding a trace of her. He's all out of places to search and chock-full of sickening worry. It's as if she's disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Speaking of smoke...

As he's making his way back to the hotel entrance, he catches something out of the corner of his eye. A small plume of smoke emanating from the cracked open window of one of the club bathrooms. That's when the idea pops up in his head.

He never checked the ladies' room. For obvious reasons, of course.

But his rationality and reasonability were checked clear from his system ten minutes ago when his body entered full panic mode. So...

Still he tries to reason with himself: Play the drunk card. Just accidentally stumbled into the wrong bathroom, that's all. 'I'm not a creep I swear, I just mixed up the doors'. That could work, yeah....

And so, with a quicker pace to his step, he steps out of the humid LA air and into the chillier and more pleasant hotel lobby. He stops for a second under the cold AC breeze to take a breath. Collect himself.

What if it's not her? What then?

That depressing train of thought is interrupted by a slight ping coming from his back pocket. He nearly drops his phone he takes it out so damn fast. He'd sent Y/N a string of messages and even tried calling her a few times, all attempts with no success. Therefore, for a split second, he's hopeful that maybe she's finally replied.

Much to his dismay, it ends up being wishful thinking.

Much more to his dismay....

"Hello Cole. How is Y/N?"

...it's her mom.

It's been eight months since the incident, six since they moved to LA. In that time, Y/N's mom has come around approximately half an inch closer to tolerating him. Mostly because he's her only intel on her daughter since she's so adamant on being stubborn and not talking to her. And Colby is more than happy to be of service, he just wishes....

What exactly?

Wishes they could mend their bridges? Wishes he didn't have to lie on both his and Y/N's behalf? Wishes he didn't feel s fucking guilty?

Wishes it wasn't all a ruse?

Mrs. Y/L/N checks in once every couple of days, often with texts at odd hours like this. She has a lot of night shifts to handle at the hospital so, when she gets downtime is when she stops to reach out with a message to Colby - who she believes is her daughter's boyfriend, mind you - to ask about Y/N.

And he's always been instant with the replies. 2AM, 4AM, 7AM, you name it. Never once has he taken more than a couple minutes to reply. He can't remember sleeping more than two to three hours a night if any since they moved here. He'd blame it on the weather change. Then again, he knows better.

His correspondent noticed this too...

"Why are you never asleep? Is something wrong?" She'd asked him at one point, showing genuine concern which truly warmed his heart. And then broke it right afterwards when he remembered he can't tell her what's wrong. He wishes he could tell her for whatever reason. He has a feeling she'd understand, maybe even like him better because of it. But how could he tell her? The charade needs to be upkept, the show must go on, and he'll just...well, suffer, really.

With a quick confirmation of Y/N's well-being, he continues his venture back into the club, making a quick beeline for the dark hall leading to the bathrooms. And yes, he feels like a creep but no, he can't turn back now.

So, he pushes the door to the women's restroom open.

Thank the heavens, he thinks to himself. For two reasons.

Firstly, because it's a single stall bathroom.

Secondly, because on the sink counter outside the stall sits Y/N and suddenly he's getting deja vu.

Mascara is staining her cheeks, a cigarette is hanging between her lips, her hair is a mess. But she still gives him a smile when she sees him come in. "Hey." She greets him, voice barely above a whisper, "You're not supposed to be here."

Colby quickly locks the door behind him, approaching her with a newfound shake in his knees. Given her state, he's quick to assume the worst. "Jesus Y/N, what's wrong? Did something happen? Talk to me."

She shakes her head, a few more strands of her disheveled hair going awry, "Nothing happened, nothing's wrong. I'm just...having fun." She sounds bitter. Not sad, not angry. Just bitter, regretful almost.

For some reason he chucks up to human nature, he feels anger start boiling in that lingering pit in his gut, "Where have you been?"

She motions to the counter below her nonchalantly, slurring a little "Here" in response.

"Where'd you get that?" He asks, nodding at the cigarette between her fingers.

She laughs, whether drunkenly or genuinely he's unsure. "Some girl gave it to me when she heard me crying in the bathroom."

Alarms start goin off once again. She's unaware she's playing him and his sanity like a yo-yo with each spoken word, "Why the fuck were you crying? What happened?!"

Y/N finds the audacity to roll her eyes at him, "Nothing! For fuck's sake, Colby, nothing happened!"

"How can you say that and expect me to believe it? Look at yourself! You're a mess!" He tries subduing his anger but it's impossible. He doesn't know where it's stemming from. Maybe it's all that pent up adrenaline from twenty minutes ago coming loose. Maybe his worry is mixing with the relief and melting into frustration. Maybe he's taking out his bitterness - piled on for months, mind you - on her. Even though she doesn't deserve it. And he knows that.

She deserves the world.

He just doesn't deserve her. And he's yet to come to terms with that.

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you." She sasses him, taking the last puff of her cigarette before tossing it out the window.

"You're mascara is running down your face, your hair is all over the place, your lipstick is smeared as fuck. There's a party going on out there but you prefer sitting on cold marble and smoking in a bathroom. You can't tell me there's nothing odd about that." He's losing it, he can feel his sanity slipping from his grip and he can't get a better grasp on it. All he can do is watch as it leaves him.

Y/N, in her usual fashion, is quick to clap back, "You're the odd one! You're fully sober at your own party, angry for whatever reason. You're standing here lecturing me instead of being out there having fun. Oh, and need I remind you, you're in the ladies' room."

He laughs humorlessly. Exhaustedly. "I haven't been on a wild goose chase the whole night for you to...."

"He doesn't want me."

Her words cut him off and cut him deep. The confusion is brief but the pieces fall into place almost immediately.

Nate

"There's no fucking way. You've been all over each other..." He stops himself when he realizes how upset he sounds recollecting all the instances he caught the two in their own world. The pit rattles, a sickening feeling climbing up his throat.

She scoffs, "Yeah, well that's all there is to it. It's all physical. And always prompted by alcohol." A long sigh escapes her lips, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I'm just disappointed I didn't notice it sooner."

Colby Brock, for once in his life, has been rendered speechless. But he's aware staying quiet isn't an option. So he makes a weak attempt at a consolation, "Y/N, I-"

"Did you know?" She thankfully cuts him off before he can continue word vomiting.

He quickly shakes his head, "No. I swear I didn't. I would've told you."

"Yeah, I know. I know you would've. I just don't know why he told you he liked me when you asked him..." She sighs, picking at the hem of her dress, thankfully oblivious to the sudden paleness of Colby's face.

The sickness gets worse as he remembers his huge mistake. A lie he told months ago.

Y/N had asked him to fight this one battle for her and he still didn't do it, for utterly selfish reasons. She'd asked him for something so simple - ask Nate about his feelings for her, if there were any. And what did he do? He kept his tongue behind his teeth and quietly hoped she'd forget about it. Such a foolish thing to expect from someone completely head over heels in love.

So, when she inevitably checked in to find out the response, he had to lie. Lie and give her false hope he didn't even know was false at the time. There was a devil on his shoulder telling him to tell her the complete opposite but he could never be that evil.

He'd rather drink and sleep his way into coping through it all than watch his best friend be brokenhearted.

In the end it seems he somehow swerved the situation into hitting both those nails on the head. And he completely and utterly hates himself for having done that to Y/N.

The least he can do is come clean.

"I never asked him."

Silence. Fucking crickets. They can hear each other's heartbeats. And he can't bring himself to look up at her, let alone meet her eyes.

It feels like forever before words are spoken between them. She's the one to break the silence with one simple word: "Why?"

He can't tell her why. He doesn't know why.

Actually, you know what, fuck that. He knows exactly why and that's the reason he can't tell her.

"I don't know." He feels like such a coward. But the consequences of the truth terrify him.

"Why did you lie to me?" She doesn't sound angry. He wishes she did. Because the hurt he can hear in her voice is far worse than any furious wrath she could unleash upon him.

"I don't know."

"Fuck that, Colby. You're my best friend, for fuck's sake. You're the last person I'd expect to lie to me and you-"

"You don't wanna know why, Y/N." His restraint is growing weaker. He regrets the words as soon as he says them. He's aware she most definitely not leave it alone now. They're both stubborn, so fucking stubborn. Mules, if you will. Legends say they still reference something they bickered about a decade ago today.

"Yes I fucking do, Colby."

"It could ruin a lot of things."

"It won't."

"I don't wanna lose you."

"You won't."

"You promise?" He feels horrible asking for a promise from her after having revealed the biggest lie he's ever told her.

Well, second biggest anyway.

But she doesn't second his opinion because her response comes out faster than a bullet, "I promise."

In this moment of honesty, raw and bare honesty, how could he lie? How can he look her in the eyes and not tell her the truth? How can he even look at her? He owes her that much but doesn't know if he has it in himself to do it.

Forcing himself to look up, Colby swears he can feel a sharp pain in his chest. Her eyes are dry of tears by now but the shine remains, accentuated further by the fluorescent lighting. He swears he can feel himself fall for her all over again, even deeper.

"Because I'm in love with you, Y/N."

The crickets are back. The silence is eating away at him. He can feel her slipping through his fingers. Their decade long friendship flashes before his eyes. It feels like he's saying goodbye. To the memories, to the friendship. To the love of his life that never was.

The weight of the realness knocks his head back down, his gaze fixated on the black tiles beneath his feet. Shame, pain, dread and fear are all battling for first place, causing a whirlwind in his brain that nearly knocks him off his balance.

It's astonishing how much it hurts losing something you new you didn't deserve all along.

Tagging: @benbarnesprettygurl @beanredacted

#sam and colby #colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock x you #colby brock fanfic #colby brock smut #colby x reader #sam golbach #nate hardy #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #enemies to lovers #fake dating #x reader

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jakessbtch · 1 year ago

Text

☆ party | j.g

masterlist | requests

TW ✿ ° : mentions of drugs/alcohol, swearing, drinking, arguing/angst, mentions of drunken sex, sexual implications.

pairing ✿ ° : johnnie guilbert x plus-sized reader [s/h]

summary of fic ✿ ° : After getting home from a party, where everything went wrong, she brings up an event.

requested by ✿ ° : no-one

word count ✿ ° : 7k

a/n ✿ ° : its finally here! after weeks! x

Parties were probably the worst thing known to mankind. They were so horribly messy, forcing a bunch of horny and carefree young adults, barely over 21, into a 2-bedroom house, with barely any room to walk. Typically, it was so full that the countless people who decided to waste their time and attend, would spill helplessly into the front and backyard, where they’d either find someone vulnerable to grind on or a bush to throw their guts up in. There would be loud rave music, and discarded items of food, just waiting for the unfortunate to slip on, and did I have to add the common issue of no room to breathe? I mean sure, there were a few bare sofas, and dining room chairs in which were free for rest, but they were for the losers who couldn’t speak to other people. For the losers who showed up to the event alone, or had their companions desert them earlier that night, right? right. And that was where I was sat, in the kitchen which was filled with discarded cups, and few people seeking for more alcohol.

Anxiety crippled through my chest as I observed all those around me, laughing, and having fun. There were so many people, and not one face I could recognize. I deemed that this whole night had been a waste. My friends had left me to stand alone in a crowded room, and my best friend, Johnnie, left me to fight against the cruel world of drunken slurs and catcalls I couldn’t prevent. I was so scared, what if someone tried to do something, hurt me, fight me? So many prying and disgusted eyes. No matter where I glanced, someone was watching me, with awkward smiles, and looks that poked at my appearance. My big and foul appearance. This wasn’t my crowd, these weren’t my people, just look at me. I was wearing baggy grey jeans and some jacket I grabbed off the floor, which probably hadn’t been washed in a week. While every other girl I saw, wore skims and crop tops, showing off their little waists, while I tried to hide my big one.

My hand cautiously grabbed a hold of my phone, the grip tight and very much laced with hidden fear. Being on my phone was the best scenario, it would be a silent sign to passers, that I was busy in a text conversation. When I brought up the familiar note’s app, I prayed no one saw the screen. Not only would I be at a party alone, but being so much of a loser that I couldn’t even involve myself with a text interaction? All I could think of in that moment was, if it was somewhat believable. Would someone still want to speak with me? Was I shaking? I was sure I was shaking, but could other people see it? I closed my e/c eyes for a moment, trying to regulate my anxious breaths. The thick scent of weed and cigarettes filled my lungs, still not seemingly putting my mind at rest. Wasn’t that the whole point of smoking and weed? It was all so stupid now, I had always been told to ease up at events, but why not now? Why was it so difficult now that I was sitting by myself?

“You’re sitting alone. Are you alright, y/n?”

I flinched at the sudden voice, someone wanted to speak to me. my eyes instantly flashed up, them laced with all the pent-up fear I had experienced, but for the first time that night, I was relieved. Sam Golbach, someone I barely knew, someone I hardly spoke to. Though, someone to finally accompany me. Sam used to live in the same house as my friend, Jake Webber, who I used to work for at the time, with editing. Jake and I are really close, I thought of him as a brother, which meant that at some point, I’d meet his other friends, Sam, Colby Brock, and Corey Shearer. Jake always took me to small gatherings and social groups the group would shamelessly create on Friday nights. Though, during those late nights, I never stayed long, I never stayed long enough to become close with all his friends. Yet, I did stay long enough to enjoy Sam’s generous company. I offered Sam and gentle smile at his wanted concern, pulling my h/c hair out of my eyes.

“I’m fine Sam, I just want to go home. That’s all.”

Sam nodded gently at my sweet confession, his blue eyes swiftly washing over the multiple sexual interactions displayed by passing people. They had a lot of bravery displaying such intimate actions in front of so many people, in front of so many judgmental eyes like my own. However, Sam’s caring eyes diverted back to me, giving me his sole attention and a reassuring smile. His face was full of concern, and I genuinely felt that he cared for me. It seemed that he understood my fear and discomfort in a way, as if he had been in my unfortunate situation before. Sam’s company kept me grounded, the company of someone I knew made me relax. Friendly, small gatherings gave me the feeling I felt during that moment, as I knew mostly everyone who would attend, though here, it was different. I knew very little people, and I was sure everyone here was in the same boat as me. They didn’t know anyone, which made tonight the perfect ‘one-night stand’ breeding ground. A night to live and forget.

“Here, might help?”

I gently took the time in looking down at Sam’s outstretched hand, a singular red polo cup aimed in my direction, filled with a liquid I could only assume was alcohol. I never really drank at parties, because eventually I’d get too carried away, and I’d do regrettable shit that I’d find out the next day, things that would haunt me. As well as the fact, I never took drinks from other people. I didn’t know what would be in them, I’ve heard plenty of spiking stories in my life. Yet, Sam wasn’t just anyone, everyone I knew trusted him. Jake trusted him, Tara, Jake’s ex, trusted him, and Johnnie did too. They were all smart people, knowing right from wrong, and if Johnnie could trust him, a small piece inside of me claimed that I could as well. My hand graciously accepted his offering, deciding that I should just take a single drink for the night, nothing more. Afterall, I would find myself driving someone, if not all my friends, home.

“Thanks. Enough about me, are you having fun?”

My voice was hoarse as I asked him the question, deciding to divert the conversations away from my wellbeing. Who cared if I was having a rough night? Sam should be focusing on the events of his night. My lips graciously sipped the sour alcohol, the soda it was mixed with bubbling in my stomach. Sam spoke with such ease, despite the loudspeakers that sent shockwaves of sound throughout my body, and likely his own. We spoke about a few things; Colby, Creating Content, and parties. However, the conversation drew out, occupying multiple minutes of our time. How late was it? Should I find Johnnie or Tara? Jake would be drunk so he would be no help. When the plaguing thought of leaving Sam filled my mind, he beat me to the quick goodbye we shared, claiming that he had to find Colby. I was grateful for that, as the red polo cup had been emptied, and I was sick of the constant rave music radiating off the walls.

“Sorry.” “Excuse me.”

Walking through that huge and messy crowd might as well had been the worst decision I could have possibly made. No one cared that I was there, as I was being tossed around like a dog’s used chew toy. Thrown into wooden furniture as if I was nothing. All I wanted to do was turn around and yell at the rude obnoxious assholes who made my search longer, and slightly more painful. As a final resort, to get out of the sweaty and foul crowd, my hands had traced along the wall, trying to find an empty hall, or vacant room, where I could catch a breath. Where I could have a moment alone. While I was searching for the said unoccupied room, and my missing friends, I was quickly starting to tire, still regretting this whole night. I wanted to leave, and sooner than ever, why was it so hard? Suddenly, after what felt like forever, I felt a door slip from underneath my fingers, and I had never been quicker to realize that it was an unlocked room, praying that it was empty.

The minute I was blessed with the muffled music, and the loss of sweaty bodies, I had slammed the white wooden door. The silence accepted me so easily and fondly, and for the first time that night I felt relieved. I turned around with closed and relaxed eyes, not taking note of the pair who were comfortably sat on the sofa, seemingly a while before I got there. Though when a dainty and polite cough reached my aching ears, I practically jumped out of my skin. I had no idea what to expect walking into that room, a blow job, boobs? No, none of those. What I was faced with was a really pretty girl, and the last person I’d expect her with. Johnnie Guilbert. Though I didn’t care about him, what I cared about was how pretty that girl was. She had long dyed pink hair, piercing blue eyes you couldn’t forget. She was so slim as well, the complete opposite of me. when I looked at her, the hatred for myself grew. The hatred for my weight, for my skin, it just seeped into my chest, like venom. I wanted to cry, to throw up, to get rid of this suffocating feeling. I wanted to be the girl Johnnie was so clearly interested in.

A small part of me had been crushed that moment, my heart. Everyone around me knew I liked Johnnie, God, even he probably knew. I was so obvious with my feelings, complimenting him when I could, giggling whenever someone said Johnnie and I looked cute together, but he was so insufferable and awkward to say anything about it. He avoided every question about us, so I took the hint that he hated the thought of a relationship with me. That feeling wasn’t foreign, it happened a lot when you looked like me. Boys gushed about having a ‘bigger girlfriend’, but when they had the chance, they were so quick to shut it down. They didn’t care about us, they cared about a good social image. With that image came feelings, the feeling of hate, and a feeling I felt that johnnie had. I wasn’t over my own opposite feelings, and with Johnnie abandoning me during the first 5 minutes to likely speak to this girl, if felt like a sucker punch to the stomach.

I felt sick looking at the two, the serotonin radiating off of them like a heater, though, I suppressed those gut-wrenching feelings. I had to come to the realization that Johnnie wasn’t the one for me. He was the one for her, her face was red under the dim lights, her smile stretched across the room, and his face reciprocated hers. He was happy with her, and I was happy for him, even if that meant the own destruction of myself. The destruction of my romantic interest, I’d have to destroy it, for him. I waved to the two awkwardly, my e/c eyes cautiously flickering back and forth between the two. Then, silence fell on the three of us, awkwardness. I tried to speak, but nothing came out, why couldn’t I speak? Where was Jake and Tara? I wanted Tara so desperately, I wanted to tell her to drive me home, to get me out of here, to get me home. Johnnie coughed awkwardly when he noticed my trance, and I breathed out, in one shaky break, I whispered.

“I’m going home.”

I had to get out of there, I had to leave the two be. I didn’t realize I was so rude, and I intruded in on something I regretted. Without another word, I left the pair sitting on the white sofa, while I shoved my way back through the messy, carefree crowd. There were no apologies this time, I didn’t care for anyone but myself. I didn’t care about the rude comments about my weight and ignorance, them drowned out by the loud music. Did the music get louder while I was dying emotionally in that room? Was the heater on, why was it warmer? The one thing I knew, was that I needed air. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, there were so many people, so little air. After what felt like forever, I found the front door. When the cool LA air kissed my face, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. The air accepted me openly, putting my nerves at rest, and opening my mind, forgetting the previous events momentarily.

“Hey y/n/n! you alright?”

When the slurred, yet delicate voice was made known to my ears, I immediately knew who it was. Tara, just the person I needed, just the person I wanted. I was going to gush to her about what happened, about how it felt like everything leading to this moment was pointless. I always informed her about my feelings, about everything when it came to relationships. She called it ‘girl-talk’, however, by the tall and giggly man behind her, I held onto my tongue. In such a crowded place, with ears seeking for nothing but drama, someone would tell Johnnie, or that girl. It was all so complicated, and I already had enough of tonight, I didn’t need more. I looked back to the shorter girl, nodding shyly at her generous concern. I wouldn’t tell her about this, sometimes silence would beat the lying, the lying of my wellbeing. Truth was, I wasn’t fine in that moment, though I didn’t have to rudely affect others with my faults.

“I’m going home, tired, are you two driving with someone else?”

Jake started to loudly sing the 2000’s pop-rock song blaring from the confinements in the crowded, messy home, as if he had no care in the world. As if this was his last night alive. My eyes gently down casted to the two, how they seemed to fit right in with this crowd, and the comparison with the fact that I didn’t. I felt so out of place, like a sore thumb. While Tara was one of the most gorgeous women I had ever met, she was the definition of perfect. She looked amazing all the time, wearing cute little outfits, and being so precise with her make up. She was always so confident and kind to her friends and family, she knew how to control her jealousy and all her feelings. And Jake wore skimpy clothes without a worry, wearing crop tops, and styled skinny jeans with fingerless gloves. I envied the both of them, in silence. Tara shrugged nonchalantly, gaining my short attention once more.

“We’ll get someone to drive us, what about Johnnie?”

“What about me?”

I flinched at his sudden introduction, of course he had to appear now, out of all times. Why couldn’t he appear when I was sulking miserably in the kitchen, when I was alone? However, like most times, my bitter attitude was painfully obvious. The sudden distasteful expression I acquired, put Tara off drastically. Her dark brown eyes flickering between the two of us knowingly, as if she somehow knew what had happened minutes before in that room. As if she saw the interaction between the girl, Johnnie and me. When I looked up at Johnnie, I ignored his messy dark hair he hadn’t styled for hours, and the smudged blue eyeshadow spread amongst his eyes. What I did notice was that the girl he was talking to, was now gone. She wasn’t lurking behind him, like a lost dog, she wasn’t at his side. He left her alone like he did me. I bitterly ignored his presence, turning to Tara and clarifying.

“He can come if he wants, but I’m tired. See you two later.”

Biding my goodbyes felt different now, or was that the sinking feeling I had in my stomach? However, besides that uncomfortable feeling, I begged for Tara or Jake to stop me. Yet, with each passing step, and each crunch on the gravel, my hopes drowned out. Though, a new hope sparked, a hope that Johnnie wanted to stay. It was obviously selfish for me to not want him to accompany me, but my night was already ruined, I didn’t need it to get worse. Distracting myself soon occupied my thoughts, my eyes wandering to the various groups of tired people. Their hushed murmurs, and the small giggles that admitted from the social circles, distracted my mind from Johnnie. My hand gripped the car door handle, listening to the bright conversations around me for a few more seconds. Then, I decided it was enough, I decided it was alright for my thoughts to corrupt my mind, and I got into the driver’s seat. The slam of the door never put me at ease, and Johnnie's approaching figure made it worse.

As Johnnie got into the car, and the engine started, my questions started to shamelessly dart around the air. The questions that made grow to hate myself, more and more, with every passing minute. Why did Johnnie leave me to stand there, in a crowd of unknown people, like an idiot? Why did he suddenly become so interested in talking to new people? However, I wasn’t a seeker for the answers I needed, and I remained silent. I continued to ask myself those questions, from the minute I was sitting in that kitchen, to now, driving home in my car. With each passing minute, which felt like hours, the air grew thicker, and my mind ran faster. What were I to do now? How could I get over something so dear to me, how could I get over Johnnie? Did I try dating apps, but who wanted me? Men liked girls who could be picked up, who could wear their clothes as a dress, they didn’t want me. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, my stomach dropping lower than my feet.

When watching the bright street signs flash past the moving car, I simply recalled the fact that Johnnie hated parties like me. That’s actually how we came to be friends, best friends. Every single party, every single gathering, we were attached by the hip. Never apart. We were always together, but that didn’t stop the thought, the thought of; what had changed now? Had I not given Johnnie the validation he needed, did he seek that validation from someone else? Why hadn’t I been enough for him? The feeling of insecurity suffocated my chest again, every time I noticed that the feeling was gone, it resurrected stronger. Why was I feeling like this, why was I so defensive over someone who wasn’t even mine to begin with? Johnnie wasn’t my boyfriend. I had to realize that. He had his own life, and I needed to start living mine, and stop worrying about my looks, and my weight, and how I acted. I had to stop being such a push-over.

When the house rolled into view, I was sure to park on the edge of the road. In a safe area in which I knew I wouldn’t have to pay for insurance. I didn’t share a house with Jake and Johnnie, but I did live around 15 minutes away, not far. Though, I was gravely unsure if I’d stay awake the whole drive back, the settling fear of a collision pictured in my mind. I was sure Jake wouldn’t mind me staying, I’d probably sleep in their unused spare room, and at some ungodly hour of the morning, Tara would join me. My eyes drooped as we made our way to the front of the door, the walk remained silent, and chilling. The only thing making noise were our steps echoing around us. Then, before long, I found myself looking at Johnnie, no, admiring him, but no longer with love, with question. I never questioned our relationship, though now, it was the only thing I could possibly think about.

Johnnie took the honors in locking the front door once the two of us were safely situated inside, while I took my time in wandering to the cleansed kitchen. I didn’t notice the darkened man enter after me at first, though he made himself known when he gently pushed his way past me, looking for something dry to eat. It was a recognized habit johnnie had adapted to after parties, after he drank. If he ate dry foods, he wouldn’t throw up, it was smart. While Johnnie searched the pantry, I remained silent. The silence was thick in the air, only growing with each second, in which I was observing his turned figure. How could he just ignore me? Did he not care, or was it rather that I had to say something to him? Did I ask why he left me to wallow in my own social fear? Ask him what type of confidence had overcome him in those meek few hours we had been apart? I dropped the car keys on the marble countertop, an overwhelming sense of unconscious mind coming over myself.

“Why did you leave me Johnnie?”

“What?”

The gentle slam of the cabinet made fear lurch within my stomach, regret climbing its way into my throat. In that moment, I regretted ever talking, I should have just shut up. When his ice blue eyes rested on my slightly shorter figure, I felt so vulnerable, so afraid. I had a quick tongue, always biting back against strangers, so why was it so different if it was my best friend? Why was I so afraid of being mean to him? At the realization that I was afraid of losing him, I shrugged slowly. This all felt stupid; did I even know what I was meaning anymore? I felt as if I was spitting gibberish. Johnnie’s face was obviously laced with some sort of confusion, and something clicked inside of me during that moment. Something bubbled, a small tinge of anger, clear frustration. I was frustrated with the fact he didn’t seem to understand what I was saying, no one did. I was suddenly glad I had brought up my issue, because now I really saw if he cared or not. It really made me question; did he not care about me anymore? What had changed?

“What do you mean ‘what’? You left me alone at the party, for 2 fucking hours. I didn’t know anyone there!”

My once small and timid voice had now raised higher than it ever had, the anger extremely prominent in my tone. I never got angry at others often, every time I was close to ruining my mood, I would attempt to reason. However, I couldn’t reason now, I wanted answers. There were so many unsaid feelings, that were starting to overload my voice box, begging for release. Though, I never wanted them shown to the world, never wanted to show them to Johnnie. I vowed to keep these feelings to myself, until the time was right, though, was there even a time anymore? Had that time happened long ago, me to oblivious and insecure to realize it? The time had passed for me, and now Johnnie was invested in finding love, him never even waiting for me.

“Whoa, y/n... look- “

“No! Do you know how embarrassed I was? Sitting alone!? I was petrified!”

Johnnie’s right hand made no attempt to silence the loud slam from the closing cupboard door, his frustration and annoyance radiating alongside my own feelings and emotions. However, I didn’t care how he felt anymore, because he didn’t care about me. My feelings weren’t relevant to him tonight. Johnnie’s large black boots made a loud thump on the cold tiles, him not hesitating to step in my direction. The contortion of his once calm face gave me a silent sign that he was trying to control the anger that was begging to be shown to the world, but that made me the slightest bit more frustrated. Why was he angry at my reaction, why was he mad? He had spent his night laughing along with one of the prettiest girls I had ever seen, he should be ecstatic about tonight, he should be happy, right? I rolled my e/c at his attitude, I wanted to drop the situation, ignore it, though I wanted answers more. I wanted to know why.

“It had always been you and I together at parties, and now you run off! What about me Johnnie!? Fucking say something!”

“I… I don’t know what you want me to say.”

An apology would be amazing, though I didn’t say that. What did happen at his response was the expected rage burning through me at his nonchalant attitude, why couldn’t he just say sorry? Before I could think, my body reacted with my hands throwing my car keys into the walls. With the sudden adrenaline, and the lack of realization to what I had just done, I ignored Johnnie’s hard flinch at my actions. I didn’t care. I was sick of being overlooked, sick of being called the ‘fat friend’, sick of being that friend that had no other emotion apart from humor and platonic love for others. Ultimately, I was sick and tired of being hurt. I had anger, and sadness, and jealousy, and I was sick of hiding it away. So, I wouldn’t be a push over anymore, and within a few silent and short moments, and little hurried words, all those emotions spilled out, along with wet, fat tears and stuttering. With a big shaky breath in, I dryly whispered to the boy.

“Do… do you know how many people pointed and laughed at me? yeah, ‘let’s laugh at the bigger girl, who looks as if she’s never been to a party before’...”

“y/n... come on, you- “

“Sam had to sit with me! Ou-out of pity too! You should’ve been there Johnnie! But you were talking... with some girl… and leaving me behind…”

My once confident voice noticeably cracked towards the end of my sentence, the pain in my tightening chest making itself obvious to Johnnie. The only thing I could think about was how embarrassing this was, being jealous over something out of my control. I wanted to run away and hide, forget this conversation ever happened, maybe even leave the country if I was lucky enough? But I couldn’t just do that, I had to face this at some point, especially since I brought up this whole situation. I would never tell Johnnie how jealous I was, how jealous I was of that unnamed girl, I wouldn’t even tell Tara, one of my closest friends, I vowed take my feelings to the grave with me. Until death. In the sudden silence, I never looked at Johnnie, afraid of what his expression was. Was he disgusted? Humiliated? I was, with myself. My left hand hastily brought itself up to caress my pudgy wet cheeks, trying to hide the mascara filled tear stains that had blossomed in the midst’s of my outburst.

“So, you’re jealous?”

Johnnie’s voice was clearly tired, however, by his groggy and annoyed voice, I simply got the overwhelming feeling of butterflies. Though the feeling of being flustered soon was overcome with anger, and sudden disbelief. Out of everything I said, he came up with the thing I already knew. My jealousy, I wouldn’t tell him that I was of course, it was only fuel for the ego that was taller than he was. The ego that I seemed to hate so much. I wanted to rip all my hair out, asking myself; why couldn’t he just understand me for once? I wanted to slap his pretty little face, I wanted to explode with anger, I wanted to tell him how I’d leave him here to rot alone, though when I opened my mouth, jaw slack, nothing seemed to come out. Nothing but silence. Nothing but heavy breaths, for a long unwanted moment. Then, once again before thinking, a small anger-filled whisper managed to roll itself off my tongue.

“I am not jealous.”

“Then why are you acting like this?!”

His voice sounded desperate for answers, answers I didn’t know if he wanted to hear. He sounded like me, so pained, and upset, but I wondered; Did he want to hear about how scared I am of his feelings, of my own feelings? Did he want to hear that I have loved him for months on end, picturing a future where we stood in front of a suburban home with two kids and a dog? Did he want to hear that I am convinced I am in love with him? Because I believed no one has been in love with him for as long as I have, I believed that my feelings weren’t just a crush. I cried most nights, wondering why I didn’t make a move when we hung out, or why he didn’t compliment me one night when I looked my best, I believed these feelings were not normal. Johnnie needed an explanation to my actions, an explanation to why I had yelled at him, why I was so suddenly aggressive. My e/c eyes cautiously rose to look at his saddened blue ones, and the silence settled once more. With another shaky breath, I explained everything to him.

“Because I’m scared Johnnie. I’m scared of you loving someone else, I’m scared of being hurt, and being forgotten.”

And for the first time that night, I finally felt heard. Johnnie sheepishly nodded at what I said, eyes down casting to the floor and sucking in his lips, deep in thought. This situation had been dragged out for months, years if you looked close enough, and it was so clearly affecting everyone around me, around us. When I told Tara my feelings, she had made a huge effort to pair the two of us together, while Jake would band along with her, contributing to her actions. Though, when Johnnie would decline any offer, I’d get disappointed, I’d be upset, and thoughts would plague my mind. My drowned moods would suffocate everyone else too, them getting a fowl taste in their mouths over the two of us, and our attitudes. Tara would express her concern, and Jake would ask to make it all better for us. And I would decline or ignore them, because it was my issue, not theirs. Now, after months, I was finally addressing it, because I was tired, so tired, tired of running a race that Johnnie never showed up for, tired of putting my all into something I wasn’t benefiting off of.

“So that’s why I’ve been acting like a ‘jealous’ and ‘lonely’ bitch.”

“What if I’m scared too?”

My stomach simply lurched at Johnnie’s hoarse voice speaking above my own. The newer question was brought to my attention. Why was he scared? He didn’t harbor such feelings for me, right? I racked my brain for reasons, reasons for why he would like me, and it slowly started to make sense, slowly started to make itself known to my consciousness. I would remember the way his hand would linger around my own, afraid of touch, or the way he would be ghastly concerned if I drank more than 3 drinks at a party or gathering. The way he would care for me. I always brushed it off as something friends did, I had seen plenty of friends upset over drinking habits, and holding hands, so was it really different for us? I wanted to cry again, cry at the intruding thoughts, though I felt numb now, like I had drained every feeling I once had before. How did I ignore all of this, and was it too late? Too late to apologize and erase all this from my mind? I covered my reddening face with my hands, too embarrassed to face my simple realization, and all the tiredness I was unaware of crashing into my mind like a wild tsunami wave.

“What if I’m scared of dating again? What if I’m scared, I’m going to hurt you?”

Hurt me? Didn’t he already do that enough by making a stupid effort to avoid me? Leaving me confused for the whole night? I didn’t know how to respond to his words, his question, everything I thought of, came off as stand-offish and rude, so all I could do was shake my head bitterly. Obviously, it was fair enough, he could be scared of this, so was I, but by the way he had avoided me tonight, during one of the times I needed him the most, I knew it wasn’t a responsible way to act, it never was. He had hurt me, and gravely, making me rethink everything leading up to this moment. I painfully looked down to the fallen silver car keys, them resting silently on the white floor tiles. While I still tried to cascade my brain and mind for how I could respond to him, in the nicest way possible. Though, the only feeling I could succumb to and notice, was the suffocating feeling of anxiety, and giddiness.

“What if we aren’t meant to be with one another, y/n…?”

“How would you know we aren’t meant to be together, if we haven’t even dated before? There’s only one way to know for sure.”

I muttered out, pinching the bridge of my nose with my pointer and thumb. It didn’t shock me how tired and weak my voice sounded, as yelling and sobs ripped my throat raw, it was very expected. However, due to my attention being diverted on my sore and sickened throat, I didn’t notice Johnnie making his way over to me. I didn’t notice him, until he was standing right in front of me, hands balled at his sides, messy hair, and blue eyes wide with an unrecognizable expression. With a surge of confidence, his right hand softly rested on my shoulder, it wrapping around to the back of my neck and resting there. His fingers gently dug into my skin, strands of h/c hair wrapping around them subconsciously. My eyes instantly flashed up at his touch, anxiety rushing throughout my body. It was so obvious that he was nervous as well, with the sight of his hands shaking, and the adrenaline seemingly pumping through him.

That was when I realized that this was my moment, my moment to show his how much he meant to me. An action, that I would shamefully perform, one kiss. one kiss couldn’t ruin a friendship, right? If it did ruin this, then so be it, because if Johnnie and I were meant to happen, then we would. We would find a way back to one another. So, without a second thought, I took that chance, I took that moment. My hands instantly latched onto his thin tattooed neck, gently forcing his head down and giving him all my emotion through the touching of lips. I had never kissed someone like I did Johnnie that night, I had never kissed someone with so much passion, so much want. I didn’t take the time to hyper-fixate on his body language, barely noticing his shock. I just desperately tried focusing on the continuous buzzing that radiated in my head. What I did notice was how Johnnie reciprocated the kiss, his hand moving from the back of my neck to the side of my face, his fingers so soft. He held me so delicately, as if a porcelain doll, skin so fragile and brittle, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like an art piece, I felt like I was finally someone's muse.

“Woah.”

I didn’t quite know when the pair of us became a trio, or rather a group, though when the familiar and feminine voice of the Tara Tompson filtered into the enclosed area, I had never been so quick to push Johnnie away from myself. Regret settled in my veins, should I had let him go like that, so soon? I could have held him just a little longer, I swore I could, though I didn’t. Behind the short girl, barely shorter than myself, was the tall and stumbling figure of a clearly intoxicated, Jake Webber. His thick scent was laced with weed, cigarette stench, and hard alcohol, giving me the sense that he had only gotten worse due to Johnnie and I’s departure. Though his attention wasn’t focused on me, he was far more interested in Johnnie, with a big, wide, slurred smile, and a lot of emotion in his body language and features. While Tara’s dark gaze was placed on me, and my stiff and uncomfortable posture. Bewilderment. That’s the word I’d use to describe her face, her expression. Was my surge of commitment and bravery really so shocking? I guess I wasn’t exactly outgoing, but I wasn’t that introverted either, I was a loud person, I challenged those who did wrong, so why was this different too?

“See... d-dude! I told you to ju-... ugh- just kiss her!”

Tara hissed frustratedly at Jake’s hiccups, muttering something inaudible from my stance. Though I didn’t care for the words that spilled from her maw, I was to interested in what Jake had said just moments before. ‘I told you,’ So Johnnie had been thinking about this moment, thinking about kissing me before? The knowledge of this had my stomach and chest twisting and fluttering, an uncomfortable, yet giddy, feeling arising more and more within a few short moments. Tara then grumbled at Jake, a loud and aggravated groan leaving her throat when he didn’t seem to be cooperating. After a few sharp whispers, Tara simply apologized to Johnnie and I, and they hastily stumbled away from the two of us, likely to Jake’s room so he could sober up and sleep. The interaction left Johnnie and I standing there alone and slightly stunned, the awkward aroma filling the air. My eyes drifted away from the doorframe to look at Johnnie, but he had beaten me to gaining to others attention. His eyes were already placed on my own, breath heavy and eyes clouded with the little alcohol he had drunk prior. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I whispered an apology.

“’M sorry…”

“I didn’t like her.”

I nodded subconsciously and silently, Johnnie’s strained and quiet words giving me knowledge that he was aware of the other two in the home. Though I didn’t bother acknowledging them, I was far too focused on how horse and rough his voice was, and shamelessly it had complimented his messy and unkept appearance well, or well enough to make my knees weak. His messy dark hair, jarred out wildly, while skimpy blonde roots carefully crept up the strands, barely noticeable. His dark blue make up had been smeared across his face, etched around his bright blue eyes, making them more noticeable than ever. Dark Tattoos writhing their way around his neck, the large black spider mark settling on his throat as if it was a mark since his birth, built to be there. I was staring at him for too long, too quietly. Once I had taken the effort to draw my attention from Johnnie’s attractive personality and expression, I looked down to the cleansed tiled floor. Was that it? After this would we go to bed and forget everything? Did I even want that?

“I like you. Your humor, your appearance, your kindness. I like you… more than a friend.”

“Then quit treating me like I’m less of one.”

Every single word, every single syllable that seeped from his mouth, set off a tiny firework inside of me. Fireworks in my chest, my feelings were the embodiment of the fourth of July. I had never felt so seen as a person, so honored for how I felt, and looked, and only moments prior, I felt invisible to the world. I was so vulnerable, my feelings were overlooked, ignored, and now they were noticed and appreciated more than ever. Overwhelmed, that’s what I was during that moment. Overwhelmed with my own feelings, and Johnnie’s pure ones. How was I to react now? Did I go to bed, or make the effort to hug or kiss him? Before I could make the decision in what I was to do, Johnnie had started to shake his head. His eyes moved away from my own, to the items on the kitchen countertop, him deep in thought and consideration. He opened his jaw to speak again, hand gripping tightly on his skinny jeans as he spoke confidently.

“I’m sorry y/n/n.” I love you.

“I know. I love you too.”

And for the first time in my life, I hadn’t felt like the ‘fat girl’, I felt noticed for more then my humor and weight. Johnnie made me feel wanted and seen. Since that moment, I had taken everything seriously. I took my problems, my life, my achievements, seriously. They all suddenly had purpose to me. I had commitments now, a commitment to Johnnie, a commitment to a lifelong promise that I vowed to never break. Johnnie made promises of his own, promises to never ignore my struggles, to hold me when needed, and the promise that I would always be his. From now until death do us part; And I wouldn't have it any other way.

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