#genuinely laughed out loud when i saw the lyrics at the end of this message

[tojiscrack]

the way malakai would enjoy the threats people are giving him because the weirdo loves being “consumed by the darkness”. like this boy would have a REASON to start spazzing, talking about how he has enemies left, right and centre 😭😭

“SO WHY DO GOOOOOOOD GIRLS LIKE BAAAAAAAD GUYS, OI HAD THIS QUESTION FOR A REAAALLY LOONG TOIIIME 😡😝🤙🏻🫨🤘🏻🖤⛓️⛓️‍💥🐺”

oh absolutely 😀

like this would be his villain origin story (he was never an evil guy, he just needed a reason 😭)

everyone attacking him just gave him a reason to tweak out even more. and i’m mainly feeling bad for the teachers who’d have to deal with it in their classes (he’s a little more tame in gojo’s classes cuz he’s allowed to sit under the table, same with shoko’s classes cuz her blinds are always down).

[lovely-ateez]

Broken Strings~

ꕥPosted: 7/20/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, College!au, Rockstar!au

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Rockstar!Yunho

ꕥWord Count: 10k+

ꕥWarnings (please read all!!): Yunho’s ex is an absolute asshat, death threats towards both Yunho and reader, mention of knives used as weapons, San is a bisexual king (happy late pride month), unprotected pool sex/public sex (no one is around but I guess it still counts), masturbation (f), foul language, mentions of alcohol intake, reader is mentioned to have dark brown eyes several times which you can just ignore if you have different colored eyes ofc, mentions of a restraining order against an ex, please let me know if I missed something!!

ꕥTag List: @cappujinho @bobateastay @nevieatiny 

ꕥA/N: The song lyrics are ones that I wrote myself specifically for this au and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous about posting it. I know there isn’t any tune or anything, but hopefully it sounds like a real song someone might sing. Also I’m not writing angst for a while after this holy shit I’ve been crying too much over this I’m emotional okay

“Date night! Date night! Date night!” I grabbed my boyfriend’s arm, bouncing on my toes.

Yunho raised a hand to cover his ear, scrunching his face, “Babe, I love you, but I think you’ve deafened me.”

I pouted at his tone and crossed my arms, “You’re such a grump.”

“Oh whatever.” He smiled, “You ready?”

I smiled at him and nodded.

Ever since his band, Sidekick Heart, began to pick up traction, he had less free time and our full-day dates once a week soon became date nights every few weeks. Most of his time was spent writing songs, producing them, and practicing endlessly. The fact that he had a tour coming up soon just meant he had even less spare time. I was happy for him, of course, but I couldn’t hide my disappointment that he was leaving.

In middle school, he and three of his friends formed a band for fun, which they kept with all throughout high school. They got good, really good and almost right after they graduated they were signed by a label. Now, three years later, they’d already released two albums and one EP and earned enough money to make a living, which was why Yunho dropped out of college a month ago. Since he had steady career path, he saw no reason to continue and decided to focus on music. He still visited me at college whenever he got the chance, but his visits were becoming more and more sporadic.

We started dating freshman year of college. We had our difficulties as most couples do, but everyday I thanked the stars for pairing us together. I met him on the first day of French class, a day I know I could never forget, no matter how how our future played out.

I sat my backpack on the table in front of me, looking around the empty classroom. I was ten minutes early, so I wasn’t surprised about the lack of students. It was a bit unlikely for me to be so early, but I wasn’t able to sleep the night before and so I had extra time to get ready. With nothing else to do, I took out my phone, reading some missed text messages.

I heard the door open and my head tilted upwards, meeting eyes with a fluffy-haired brunet. He shyly smiled at me and I returned the gesture. The man took a seat in the front row across from me, only a few chairs in between us. I found it cute that he liked to sit in the front of the classroom, too. Very few people did. He turned away from me to place his backpack on the floor and take out a few books. I took the opportunity to look at him. He was attractive, for sure. His short sleeved solid black shirt followed his movements, tattoos peaking through his top. The shirt itself tucked was into ripped jeans, his black shoes matching the outfit, along with various accoutrements. His look was uncommon for college students, most just wore sweatpants with with a casual shirt. I thanked myself for dressing nice that day.

I tilted my head to get a better look at his side profile. He was so handsome that I seemed to forget I was staring. I couldn’t help but get caught up in him, not realizing that I was no longer being subtle.

He spoke without moving to face me, “You’re pretty cute, too.”

“I-I what?” My eyes widened, realizing I’d been caught.

He turned, a charming smile on his face, “You aren’t exactly discreet.”

I took a breath, trying to form a coherent sentence, “Well...can you blame me?”

He pursed his lips, trying to hide a smile, “I appreciate the compliment. What’s your name?”

I hesitated before answering him, which brought a full smile to his face. He moved closer to me before holding out his hand for me to shake. I grabbed his hand and shook it, trying to keep my hands steady. His hand was soft, clearly he took care of himself.

“I’m Yunho.”

I smiled, observing the way he lit up as he turned my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my skin. I felt my face heat up and averted my eyes. Yunho chuckled as he released my hand. Both of us looked up at the sound of the door opening, a group of students entered, followed by a lady who I presumed to be the teacher.

Yunho looked at me, “Meet me after class?”

I nodded, biting my lip as I felt excitement build in my stomach, wanting nothing more than for class to end as soon as possible.

The instant the teacher ended her lecture she left with the rest of the students, who were talking among themselves. My eyes flickered to Yunho to find him looking back at me, his backpack now thrown over his shoulders.

“You have any classes after this?” He asked in a nonchalant manner. Later he confessed to me that he was far more nervous than he appeared, claiming that he fell in love with me at first sight.

I finished placing my notebook in my bag, zipping it up and putting the straps over my arms, “Yeah, unfortunately. I’ve got World Politics in ten minutes.” 

“Aww damn. I was hoping we could grab some food.” He reached into his pants’ pocket, pulling out his phone, “Maybe I could get your number instead and we could meet up later?” He wasn’t pushy or demanding, simply asking.

I nodded quickly, “I’d like that, Yunho.”

He suddenly became more shy, the tips of his ears dusting a beautiful shade of pink, “I like the way you say my name.”

I giggled, trying to hide my own shyness. I took his phone and entered my number, really hoping that he would text me. As if he read my mind, he confirmed what I was thinking.

“I’ll text you,” He looked at me with sparkling eyes before shaking his head, like he was pulled back to reality, “Oh uh...you should probably get to class.“ He raised a hand, somewhat awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah I probably should. I’ll see you around?”

He smiled, “I’ll see ya.”

-

It wasn’t long before he texted me, and it made my heart flutter that he kept his word. A day later we met up, grabbing ice cream and getting to know each other. He was a dance major and had to practically beg his parents to let him pursue dance. In return they said he had to repay them with getting straight A’s. He had one younger brother who was possibly the biggest baseball fan to ever exist, he roomed with three men he’d been friends with since kindergarten, and he absolutely adored my brown eyes.

“They’re just beautiful.” Yunho gushed, “Both times I’ve seen you they just sparkle and shine like they’ve got their own little galaxies in them. I’ve never seen anyone with such genuine, kind eyes.”

I let out a girly laugh at the compliment and covered my mouth with a hand, “You’re really trying to flatter me, aren’t you?”

“Depends. Is it working?” He laughed as he propped his head on one of his hands, leaning closer to me in the booth we were sitting in. We’d finished our ice cream long ago, now shamelessly flirting and getting lost in each other.

“It might be.”

“Well I do mean it. I’m not only trying to flatter you.”

The ringing of his phone caught our attention. He smiled apologetically and reached for the device. He sighed, reading the contact name and looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry I’ve gotta take this. It’s one of my roommates and it’s entirely possible they’ve set the house on fire.”

I laughed, “It’s okay, go ahead.”

Yunho excused himself as he answered the call, walking outside. I took a look around the shop we were in, smiling at all the decorations when I noticed a woman sitting alone, eating ice cream and staring at me. Her eyes were such an ice blue that they made her intimidating, to say the least. I wasn’t too surprised, I’d dressed nice and all throughout the day I’d been getting looks. Taking it as a compliment I smiled at her and waited for Yunho to return.

“So good news,” He started as he sat back down in the booth, running a hand through his hair, which was way more attractive than it should’ve been, “They haven’t burnt down the apartment, but San—he’s one of my roommates—his car ran out of gas a few miles away from here so I’ve gotta go help him. Can I drive you back to your own apartment first?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to worry you.” I waved a hand, “I can have a friend pick me up.”

He nodded, “If you’re more comfortable with that, sure, but I’d rather drive you home, if that’s okay.”

I nodded, walking with him as he guided me out to his car. We had our first kiss when he dropped me off, leaving me with the promise of another date, and he delivered. Time and time again he proved he truly cared about me, which inevitably led to a relationship.

We heard a loud crashing in the basement of the house and Yunho let out a frustrated groan, “Oh god it’s happening again.”

He walked over to the basement door, opening it and sighing at the loud yells emitting from below.

“What is it this time?” Yunho shouted.

Wooyoung’s voice rung out, “San won’t let me use the controller!”

The man in front of me placed a hand over his eyes, over the situation entirely, “You’re still fighting over that game?”

“Crash Bandicoot waits for no man!”

“San let him have the controller or I’ll come down there and I’ll beat both of your asses!” Yunho shut the door, giving me a tired smile and walking back to me, “You’d think we would’ve outgrown this stage by now. I’d fire them both and hire a new bassist and drummer if I could.”

“Okay that’s an absolute lie, and you say that like you’re any better. I saw you arguing with Seonghwa over the last bag of chips yesterday.”

He pointed a finger at me, not trying to hide the smile on his face, “Okay that was absolutely valid. I bought those and they were mine.”

I smirked. “My point still stands.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, changing the subject, “How about after our date I sing you a couple of our new songs?” He leaned closer, his lips barely grazing my ear, “I wrote a few about you.”

I pulled back from him, feeling warmth spread in my chest. “Really? You did?”

Yunho wrapped an arm around my waist, “How could I not? You’re always my inspiration.”

I let out a string of incoherent gibberish which prompted the most adorable eye smiles from my boyfriend. I felt too honored to put my emotions into words.

“Go on.” Yunho motioned to the front door, “Grab your purse and head out to my car. I’ll let the guys know we’re going and I’ll meet you outside.”

I gave him a salute, “You got it cap’n!”

His eyes warmed, “God, I love you.”

“I know!” I teased before I grabbed my purse and skipped out of the house. The sun would be setting soon and I admired the several hues that were painted within the sky. I sat on the hood of his car, swinging my feet as I saw him walk out of the house.

“So where exactly are we going?” I tilted my head, looking forward to his response.

“Well I’ve got a couple ideas.” He held up his long fingers and counted off on them, “We could go bowling, or we could have a late night picnic, or maybe...” He moved closer, placing his hands on either side of me with a mischievous grin, “We could go swimming.”

My face lit up, “I haven’t been swimming in forever!”

“I know, that’s why I recommended it.” He laughed, “Let’s break into the swimming pool downtown. It’s definitely closed by now so we can be alone.”

I raised my brows at his words, a smile widening on my face, “Don’t we need to bring swimsuits, though?”

Yunho grinned at me and moved a hand to ruffle my hair, “Nope. We’re going without ‘em.” He lifted me off his car, “Hop in, babe.”

-

We approached the fence with our hands interlocked, a new message greeting us. A red and black sign with the words ‘No Trespassing’ was attached haphazardly to one of the metal wires looped through the fence surrounding the pool.

Yunho tsked, “Aw that’s cute. Like that’s gonna keep us out. This is basically our pool anyways.” 

I laughed, both of us knowing full well there was no method of security beyond the sign and fence. The pool had never installed security cameras and after word spread that the owner had a fear of advancing technology, we had no worry of being caught.

He cupped his hands, holding them out for me to step on. I placed my foot on his hands as he lifted me up, helping me scale the fence. I stepped back, feeling a thrill as Yunho jumped over. It was probably the fourth or fifth time we’d done this, but each time was just as exciting. We walked over to the edge of the pool, its light blue water and the dark blue of the sunset opposing one another but making a beautiful visual.

“Alright, off we go.” Yunho’s fingers danced to the hem of my shirt, then pulling it off and ridding me of the layer of clothing. He pressed several kisses to the exposed skin, making me shiver.

Yunho then pulled back from me, slowly removing his shirt and giving me a teasing look when he caught me staring at his abs, “I look good, don’t I?”

“Shut up,” I laughed, lightly slapping his strong, tattooed arm before removing my skirt, enjoying the way my boyfriend’s eyes devoured me. I returned the action when I saw him remove his jeans, something he was clearly enjoying as well.

I turned back to the pool only to be thrown over Yunho’s shoulders. He let out a string of laughs as I struggled to get down, fearing that he would throw me into the water.

“If you throw me into the pool I’ll kill you!” I laughed, squirming on his shoulders.

“No...I would never do something like that.” I wasn’t even facing him, but I could hear the smile in his voice, which was my only indication that he was about to throw me into pool.

Before I could try to make any sort of escape, he tossed me into the water. It was cold, but less cold than I expected it to be. I coughed up a bit of water as I resurfaced and when I opened my eyes I squinted at Yunho, annoyed at how attractive he looked with the evil smirk on his face.

“You’re a jerk.” I said with no venom behind my words.

“Yeah, yeah. Brace yourself I’m coming in.”

I barely had time to move before he jumped in, his legs tucked to his chest. “Cannonball!”

I moved my hands in front of my face to block the wave of water coming my way, not feeling any surprise about my boyfriend’s childish behavior. When he resurfaced he faced me with a smile, wading towards me, embracing me in his arms, and wrapping my legs around his waist. He was so tall that he could reach the bottom of the pool without having to swim, unlike me, where I was no near reaching the bottom and needed to swim in place. With a satisfied hum he pressed several wet kisses to my neck.

“I love you,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by my skin.

“I love you too, babe.” I hesitated before I said my next words, still overwhelmed at how strong my feelings were for him, “You’re the love of my life.”

He pulled back with a bright smile on his face, his eyes shining almost as if he was tearing up, “I knew you were the love of my life the moment I saw you. And you’re all mine.” Yunho said before he placed a delicate kiss to my lips.

“All yours, babe.”

His long fingers danced along my sides, grabbing at my hips as he began to attack my chest with kisses. I giggled as the feeling of his stubble tickled my skin.

“You know, you really ‘oughta shave before you get a full beard.”

“Why? Are you saying I wouldn’t look good with one?”

I cupped his face, “You’d look amazing with one, but I thought you didn’t like beards, babe?”

“Hate ‘em.” Yunho’s laugh echoed around us, “Really weird that men can grow them in the first place. But anyways...”

His hands made quick work of my bra, letting it sink to the bottom of the pool. I opened my mouth to scold him but before I could his mouth latched to my right nipple, sucking and nipping on it in a way that made my hands seek out his hair and tug harshly at his locks. Letting out a growl, Yunho placed one hand on the the pool wall for balance and the other on my back, drawing abstract shapes there.

Yunho moved to my other nipple, giving it the same treatment and smiling when he heard my moans. In a flash he removed his hand from my back and pressed me against the pool wall, his hand now traveling to my panties.

As he removed the final item of clothing he ran a finger over my clit, giggling to himself. I gave him a look and he clarified, “Babe, you’re wet enough to fill an entire swimming pool.”

I groaned, pressing my head into his chest, “You make that same god awful joke every time we come here.”

“And as such I couldn’t let tradition die.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” I laughed, promptly helping him out of his boxers.

He continued to tease me after, switching between playing with my clit and stretching me out with his long fingers. By the time he finally gave in, I was a whimpering, pathetic mess, begging for more.

As he aligned with my walls he looked at me with delicate eyes, “Ready, little flower?”

I nodded quickly, chanting ‘yes’ over and over. Yunho once again placed a hand on the wall and hooked one of my legs over his waist, allowing him to thrust deeper inside me. He held my hand with his free one, a simple action that always melted my heart. Despite how long we’d been together, I would always get overwhelmed by him so easily. Everything about him exuded such a strong aura that sometimes just the smallest kiss would leave me breathless. The first time we were intimate he took his hand in mine and assured me he would be gentle, and every time since he’s held my hand. It wouldn’t feel right without our hands together.

“Shit—it’s been way too long since we’ve done this.” I said as he snapped his hips into mine, quickly repeating the action.

“God I know.” He let out a pained groan at the thought of it, “Four months is gonna be fucking awful without you.”

“Guess we’ll have to make do with what we’ve got now.”

“Guess we will.”

The sounds of water splashing and the echos of our moans, a symphony I had become so familiar with, was gradually reaching its crescendo. It was getting harder to keep my eyes open but I forced them to be, needed to memorize everything about this moment. The sweat dripping down Yunho’s forehead, the tattooed muscles he was flexing, the sounds and praise he was emitting, and pleasure we were both feeling--I wouldn’t see nor feel this for the next four months.

A particular snap of his hips had me seeing stars and I called out to him, letting him know I was close. Within minutes, both of us were panting and reeling from our highs. Yunho pressed his nose against mine and both of us closed our eyes, enjoying each other’s presence.

“How come every time we come here it ends in sex?” I giggled.

He blinked and moved a strand of wet hair out of my face, “Because you’re hot and barely wearing any clothes and no one’s around.”

I blushed at his compliment, “I mean like I’m not complaining or anything.”

A cocky smile formed on Yunho’s face, “Well it certainly didn’t sound like you were a moment ago.”

“Yunho!”

The man laughed, lifting me up and spinning me around in the pool before cradling me in his arms.

“I hate to say it, but we do need to head back. The world awaits for us, I’m afraid.”

I sighed, pressing into his chest, “I’m gonna miss you.”

He stilled as he pulled me closer, “I’m gonna miss you, too. You don’t have to miss me yet, though.”

“I know.” I swallowed, wishing I had something more to say.

“Come on, then.” Yunho gave me a quick kiss, “Let’s head back.”

-

Yunho held the front door open for me, giving me a gentle slap on my ass when I walked through. I turned around and gave him a playfully annoyed look, which he only laughed at.

As we walked towards the living room, the sound of a random sitcom filled our ears. Six heads turned our way after hearing our footsteps. Seonghwa was resting his head against his long-time girlfriend. She was a sweet girl and complimented him more than any woman I’d seen him with. They really were soulmates, if they ever existed.

San was sitting holding hands with a man he’d been interested in for awhile. I’d often see him flirting with various men and women, but he never went any further than that, too afraid of commitment. This man; however, seemed to breaking through San’s walls. I really hoped they would work out, San deserved someone as kind as him.

Wooyoung sat across from the them, who acknowledged us first.

“Hey guys. Have fun?” Wooyoung asked, smiling at my soaked hair. He had his arm around a woman I’d never seen before and I was certain that none of us would ever see her again. He had the reputation of a playboy, and every poor woman thought they’d be the one exception, the one to make him stay. I’m sure the allure of being a drummer in a band was part of his appeal, too. Maybe one day, like San, he’d settle down.

The woman became visibly upset when Wooyoung looked me with a teasing glance. Feeling sympathy for her, I decided to do my best to calm her nerves.

I spoke for us, linking hands with my boyfriend. “Yeah, we did. I think we’re gonna go clean up though.” I looked at the woman, “I’m y/n, by the way. I’m Yunho’s girlfriend.”

She didn’t even try to hide the relief on her face. “Oh! I’m Solar. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung started, “Best girlfriend he’s ever had. Much better for him than Lucy.”

Yunho glared at the man, “Thought we agreed not to bring her up?”

Lucy, the woman Yunho dated before me, was arguably the scariest person I’d ever heard about. They dated for roughly three months before she became obsessive, to the point where Yunho had to get a restraining order against her. She threatened to hurt all of Yunho’s friends and family, all because she wanted Yunho all to herself. That was about all Yunho ever told me about her. Not that I complained. I didn’t exactly want to discuss his exes, even more so when they were that crazy.

I never told him, but I knew I saw her the first date we went on. I could see the way her piercing, ice eyes saw through me. I had no doubt it was her. I just hope I’d never see her again. Maybe now that she saw he was taken she’d leave us alone. There was an uncomfortable silence following, none of us knowing what to say until San spoke.

“You look like a wet dog, Yunho.” San joked, prompting laughter from a few of us, which seemed like more of a noise of relief rather than one of actual humor.

“Yeah, yeah.” My boyfriend relaxed his shoulders, “I think we’re gonna head in for the night so don’t make too much noise.” Waving them goodbye he caught up with me, placing a hand around my waist.

“Shower with me, doll.”

I placed a hand on his chest, “I would love to.”

-

I came out of the shower wearing my favorite large shirt of Yunho’s, drying my wet hair with a towel. The smell of chlorine had gone away for the most part; whatever chemicals the owner put in that pool always made the smell harder to get rid of. Only a small price to pay, I figured.

My boyfriend, who was much quicker than I was, looked up from his phone as he was splayed out across his bed. His tired eyes smiled at me while motioning me over. Yunho’s own hair was still drying and with his bare face and crooked smile, he was as handsome as he could ever be.

“Hey there.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He reached an arm out to me, pulling me against him when I took his hand, “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.” I hummed, sleepily smiling against his neck.

“Too tired to listen to the song I wrote for you?”

“No! Not at all.”

Yunho chuckled, slowly brushing my hair aside and turning his head to look at me. As he had countless times, he took a breath before he turned to me, beginning to sing.

“You give me fireworks

I’ll give you the kindest words, my dear

Your love caught me

The moment I met your eyes

And how could I not fall?

Your heart bared, no disguise”

I fought to stay awake although his melodic voice seemed to be lulling me to sleep. I felt myself losing consciousness, but managed to catch the last few lyrics he sang to me.

“Now I sunbathe in the daybreak

Half asleep, half awake

Writing this song

As I hope I’ll dream of you”

Yunho brushed his fingertips brush against my face before he spoke, “Goodnight, flower.”

I muttered some form of a “goodnight” before I felt sleep take over me, nuzzling happily against my boyfriend.

-

I woke up in a panic, unsure why my heart was beating so fast until I looked at the clock. Eleven in the morning. I was an hour later than I should’ve been at my job. It seemed that even unconscious my body knew I was late.

“Oh shit I’m gonna be late for work!” I spoke with wide eyes.

Jumping from Yunho’s bed I stripped myself of his shirt and quickly threw my clothes on. The body that laid beside me stirred, moving the covers aside.

“Are you leaving?” He asked sleepily, his face puffy from sleep and an adorable pout on his lips.

I frowned, “Yeah. I’m sorry we didn’t get to spend more time together, babe.”

He shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. Both of us slept in.”

I tied my hair back, sighing. I was so caught up in my thoughts I almost missed Yunho’s question.

“Sorry what was that?”

He smiled, “You’re coming to our going away party tomorrow, right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I moved back to the bed and hugged him, feeling my heart sink. I was proud of him, I really was, yet couldn’t help but feel sad that I wouldn’t see him for so long.

This was the longest tour they’d ever gone on and we’d never been apart from each other that long before. I trusted him and I was confident in our relationship, but realistically, all members of Sidekick Heart were attractive young men and a good portion of their fans were female. I was far more concerned about the female audience doing something than I was about Yunho making a move on another woman.

With one last squeeze of his shoulders I pulled back, goodbyes beginning to fall from my lips before Yunho pulled me back.

“I need a goodbye kiss.”

I pressed my lips together with a smile, gladly indulging him. Giving him one last kiss against the lips, I bid him farewell until the following day.

-

“So how was work?” My roommate asked as I walked in the house, propping her feet up on our couch and tossing a kernel of corn into her mouth, the lighting of the TV illuminating her blanket-covered body.

I sighed, sitting down on the floor next to her, “Other than being an hour and a half late and missing an important meeting I think it went okay. I’m just glad the day’s over.” Rubbing a hand over my face I turned to her, “What about you? How was your day?”

“Pretty damn good actually.” She smiled, removing the blanket and showing me the new ink on her upper arm. It was an assortment of flowers and matched her bubbly personality perfectly. They were now the fifth adornment on her beautiful dark skin, each one of them tempting me more and more to get a few of my own.

“Another one already, Tiff?”

“Listen, you’ll know how addicting they get as soon as you get your first.”

“You sound so confident that I will.”

“Oh I know you will. You’re dating a rockstar, after all. Not to mention he’s the goddamn lead singer and has tattoos of his own.”

“Shut up.” I giggled, “Speaking of, are you coming to the farewell party tomorrow?”

“I plan on it, but I’ll probably be there a couple hours late. My dad’s flying into town for the weekend so I plan on visiting first. I’m definitely coming though.”

I hummed, “Yeah, don’t worry too much about it. We all know it’ll go till sunrise anyway.”

She let out a loud laugh, likely remembering the last party of theirs we went to where she ended up more drunk than I’d ever seen her. She claims she remembers flashes of the night; playing strip beer pong and being dared to steal one of the neighbor’s bushes—which, after much convincing from those who were sober, she decided against it—but didn’t recall half of the hilarious memories of her the rest of us did. Personally, my favorite was watching her hold a tomato soup can and cry over the fact that it could never have children.

Tiff let out a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, turning in my direction. Her words were muffled by her yawn as she spoke, “Imma go to bed now. You good before I go?”

I smiled at her, “Yeah I’m good. I won’t stay up too much longer, just need to go through my nightly routine of looking at the stars, ya know, the usual.”

She nodded, wrapping the blanket around her and heading to her bedroom, “Sleep well, babe. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Back at ya.”

It was a habit of mine, gazing at the night sky before sleeping. It gave me comfort knowing that out there, somewhere, there was something else out there with me. Almost like I wasn’t going through everything alone.

I set my purse down when I reached our kitchen, reaching for a tea pot and tea bags, brainlessly brewing my favorite tea as I thought of what Yunho might be doing right now. It was probably most likely that he was practicing for their tours, but I could only hope he was getting a little bit of rest.

I stepped out onto our porch to look at the stars with a cup of tea in my hands, the night sky twinkling with all the stars it could offer. A slight breeze rustled my hair and I closed my eyes, thankful for the pleasant weather. I heard a sudden snap of a branch and my eyes quickly opened as I searched out property for any sign of an aggressive animal. My eyes finally landed on a human-like figure. Feeling adrenaline run though me, I decided to confront whoever or whatever it was.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” I spoke, my voice loud but not quite a yell.

The figure took off it’s hood to show their face, and I saw a familiar pair of ice blue eyes, though I hadn’t seen them in years, “I’m here to see you, of course.”

My brain quickly connected her to the woman I hoped I’d never see again.

Lucy.

“Well I don’t want to see you. Leave.”

She pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense, “But I came all this way! Just to...say hello.”

I took a step towards her, hoping that if I appeared confrontational she would leave me alone. “I don’t know who you are, now please leave. I’m not going to say it again.”

“Oh, you poor girl. You really think you have the upper hand?” She pulled out a knife, and walked towards me at impressive speed, pointing the weapon at my throat. “I know you’ve been seeing Yunho. I. Don’t. Like. That.” She emphasized every word of the last sentence, anger woven within her voice.

I wanted to fight back. Everything in me was screaming to fight back, but I knew I had no chance. I had no idea what she was capable of, and I didn’t dare to find out.

“I dated him first and he’s still mine. You’re going to break up with him, you hear me?” She screamed in my ear, the sound shaking me to my core, “I never want to see you near him again.” She grabbed my jaw harshly, forcing my eyes to lock with hers. “I bet he doesn’t even love you.”

My eyes watered. I knew she was wrong, but with the adrenaline coursing through my veins and the harshness of her words I began to doubt myself.

Her grip tightened and I let out a yelp, “He loves me and I love him. He’s always loved me, not you. Why would he ever love a thing like you?”

She then threw me to the ground, towering over me, “Break up with him. Make him hate you. If you don’t,” She squatted down next to me, once more pointing the knife at my throat, “I’ll kill him myself and make you watch. Then,” She cocked her head, a crazed smile plastered on her face, “I’ll kill you. If I can’t have him, no one can.” She stood, smirking at me, “And you know I will.”

She kicked me in the stomach, watching as I crawled into myself, groaning from the pain. I closed my eyes, hoping she wouldn’t hurt me any more than she already had.

“I’ll be watching you at the party tomorrow. Do it then. Break his heart. I’ll kill him then and there if you don’t.” She looked down at me and scoffed, “And I’ll be bringing friends to make sure the job gets done.”

I carefully opened my eyes to see her stepping over me, walking back into the darkness from which she came. I scrambled back into my house, hyperventilating from the interaction I just had.

I spent the night crying, not able to sleep even for a minute. I tried to think rationally, but there were just too many variables. How many ‘friends’ was she bringing? Would she really kill Yunho in front of everyone? Where would she be watching me from? Is she watching me now?

I could text or call Yunho to let him know, but where would we go from there? He’d want to meet me and she’d kill him instantly. Right?

“Maybe I could pull him aside at the party and warn him?” I murmured to myself, “No, she could probably see that. Maybe there’s people actually at the party who are looking out for us, too.” I covered my face with my hands and fell back into my pillows, weeping as I knew I had to break up with the love of my life.

-

Choosing to wear a yellow dress honestly couldn’t have been more ironic. Yellow was supposed to be a happy color. A color of hope and yearning, innocence and warm days full of laughter. It was the complete antithesis of how I felt and what I knew I had to do. Even worse, the weather was perfect. It was sunny, but not so much to make it unbearable outside. Everything about today made my insides twist.

I took a breath at the door of Yunho’s house, bracing myself for what I had to do. Knocking a few times I heard a commotion inside before the man I came to see opened the door. His smile had never been bigger.

“Baby!” He cheered, pulling me into a bear hug and ruffling my styled hair, “I’m so excited you’re here!”

He looks so ecstatic. And I have to break him.

The thought crushed me and brought tears to my eyes, but I couldn’t let him die. I knew she was serious, I didn’t doubt that for a moment. I grabbed Yunho’s arm, pulling him outside and away from everyone in the house.

I looked at the ground as I felt my lips begin to quiver, “I’m sorry. I just need to get this over with.”

Yunho bent down to meet my eyes, “Hey, hey. What’s going on sweetheart?” His voice was gentle, one of his hands coming to rub the tears from my face, “I’m here for you, whatever it is.”

I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes. I hated myself more than I’d ever hated anyone. “I don’t love you, Yunho.” My hands began to shake beyond my control, my own body knowing I was making a mistake.

“W-what?” Yunho’s voice cracked. A moment of silence passed before he let out a hollow laugh, “Baby, you don’t mean that-”

I looked up at him and immediately wished I hadn’t. Tears were welling in his eyes, his own hands beginning to shake.

“I said I don’t love you Yunho!” I said louder than I intended, “Not anymore. I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry.”

He took a step back and I noticed his hands clenching, something he always did to keep himself from crying.

“If that’s what you want,” Tears fell from his eyes before he finished his sentence, “Then I’ll support your decision.” He looked to the side, not knowing what else to say.

I wanted nothing more than to throw myself in his arms and explain everything, tell him that I’ve never stopped loving him, not even for a second, but I couldn’t. Instead, I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and looked at him one last time. He was so fucking handsome, so goddamn kind, and here I was doing this to him. Maybe he did deserve someone better.

“Good luck with your tour, Yunho. I know you’ll be fantastic.”

I turned and walked away from him quickly, leaving the house and ignoring the stare I could feel on me. I ran across the yard to my car, starting the engine and leaning my head against the steering wheel. I felt myself lose all oxygen in my body, the only option left to take large gasps of air. My vision was so clouded by tears I couldn’t even see anymore. I’d just lost myself along with my other half. I’d never felt as empty as I did in that moment.

Just then I heard a knocking on my window. I half-hardheartedly lifted my head and felt my heart lurch. Yunho was standing outside my car, eyes red and puffy, looking at me like I was the last person he’d ever see. I opened my car without thinking, my breathing still as uneven as before.

Yunho spoke, his voice coarse and distant, “I’m not asking you to change your mind, but I need you to know that I have always loved you and I always will. That will never change.”

I wiped the snot from my nose but didn’t bother to try and fix the mascara I knew was streaming down my face. I knew I had to look horrible, but he still held so much love for me that it was easy to see in his eyes. I fought myself to not reply, knowing that if I’d open my mouth all I’d say was ‘I love you’ over and over again.

“Is it too out of line to ask for a last hug?” He smiled sadly as more tears poured from his eyes.

I shook my head, running into his arms and embracing him. I felt like I made a mistake the moment I did because I could smell him. He was wearing the cologne I bought him for his birthday. His warm, sturdy chest...everything about him felt like home.

“Goodbye, Yunho.”

-

I arrived at home alone, tears still stinging my eyes. Tiff was nowhere to be found and I couldn’t decide if I was thankful or sad for the fact that she wasn’t there. I barely made it out to our porch before collapsing once again, finding it harder and harder to breathe. I didn’t know how long I was sitting there, it could’ve been one hour or three, but given the setting sun it looked like it was the latter. Once more I heard a noise outside our home, and once more the female figure appeared before me.

“You did good,” Lucy said, twirling her knife in her hands, “Dare I say I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t ever want to see you here again.” I cried, “I did what you want now get the fuck away from me.”

“My, my. You have quite the mouth on you, don’t you?” She tsked, “But you did as I asked, so I might as well comply. Don’t; however, think that you can go crawling back to Yunho and tell him about this. I’ll keep watching you and if you decide to do just that...I’ll follow through with my promise.”

I kept my eyes on the ground, convinced that if I looked up at her I’d attempt to rip the hair out of her head. No anger I had ever felt before could surmount to the rage I was feeling.

“Nonetheless, it was a pleasure doing business with you, miss.”

As soon as she came, she was gone. When I finally let myself look up, I could no longer see her, only darkness. Once again, I was alone.

-

Six months had passed since I broke up with Yunho and today officially made the third new date I’d went on. All of them were absolutely horrible. It wasn’t even that the guys were mean or rude or weren’t attractive, they just weren’t him.

Why am I even trying to move on?

I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes looked heavy, the bags under my eyes ever prominent. I couldn’t fool myself. I’d never be able to be with another man again. I forced myself to hold back tears and reached back to untie my hair, preparing to take a bath in hopes that it would take my mind off of things.

I began to run the warm water as I reached for several candles, lighting them and placing them around the room, trying to forget the entire day altogether. As I waited for the tub to fill I grabbed my phone, opening Instagram for no other reason than to have something to do. Although Yunho and I broke up, I still followed their band account, as well as their individual accounts. Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung were still my friends, after all. Yunho was the only exception. Both of us unfollowed each other early on just because it was too painful. I didn’t hold it against him and hoped he didn’t hold it against me either.

Regardless, my eyes found the most recent post on Sidekick Heart’s account. All four members were shirtless, their hair dripping wet with goofy smiles plastered on their faces. They were standing by a pool, the same one Yunho and I would often break into. I noticed Yunho first, how could I not? His smile wasn’t as wide as the other’s, his eyes a bit colder, but he looked happy all the same. He looked good. Really, really good. He was always fit while we were dating, but he gained more muscle since I last saw him and it didn’t go unnoticed by their fans, either. I clicked the comment section against my better judgement, knowing what I was going to see before I even did so.

“Yunho looks like a fucking goddd”

“So Yunho’s still single right??”

“Yunhooo hmu I beg you”

“Jesus Christ Yunho break me please”

A surge of jealousy rushed through me. I hated when girls said those things when we were together, but now that we were apart it made it even worse. I had no right to be jealous, and that was the worst part.

The water reached my leg that was resting on the side of the tub and I scrambled to turn off the faucet. Doing my best to push the images from my mind I placed my phone aside and stripped from my clothes, settling in the water. I sighed as some water fell out of the side of the tub. It wasn’t a terrible thing to happen, but it seemed to just be another thing to go wrong.

My eyes wandered back to my phone, Instagram still open and the picture I was looking at earlier still on display. He was so fucking hot and seeing that he was standing next to that pool—our pool—made my brain short circuit. I couldn’t stop my thoughts from taking me back to the last night we broke in, the way we teased each other and how it inevitably led to sex. It seemed I had no control over my body as my dominant hand slipped between my legs.

But as much as I wanted it to be, it wasn’t the same. My fingers weren’t as long or slender as his and just nothing about our touches were the same, but the image of him just made my hormones rage. Every ounce of me craved him.

My fingers swirled around my clit, a bundle of pleasure shooting through me at the action. I closed my eyes, letting my body take over and repeat the motions and much as I fought not to, my brain kept replaying scenes of two of us again, and again, and again.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Yunho spoke as I sunk down on his dick, barely finding the energy to lift myself up again even though the noises he made were like shots of espresso.

“Aww, is my baby getting tired?” He cooed, jerking his hips into mine.

“It’s not fair!” I whined, “I’m not good at this and you know it.”

“But we wouldn’t be a good couple if we didn’t encourage each other to work hard, right? Up you go, flower.”

I whimpered and pouted, but still obeyed him. Taking pity on me, Yunho grabbed my waist and lifted me, relaxing his grip as I moved downward. I made a noise that wasn’t understood by Yunho, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?”

“Please. More. I need you so bad.” I begged.

Yunho laughed, “I really do have you wrapped around my finger, don’t I?”

I nodded before remembering that he’d probably prefer a verbal answer, “Yes. I’m w-wrapped around your finger.”

He let out a noise of satisfaction before flipping us over into a position so that he would have full control. I grabbed the bedsheets roughly, so much in my own world that I didn’t hear Yunho’s words.

“What was that?” I let out with a series of mewls.

“You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, too, you know? I don’t go an hour without thinking about you anymore. I can’t even have a single conversation without bringing you up. Anytime someone says your name my heart beats out of my damn chest. You’re the only woman for me.”

My legs shook as my high approached, barely able to breathe at it’s intensity. It took me a minute before I could even remember where I was. As I came to my senses, I felt tears biting at my eyes and this time I didn’t bother to hold them back. I watched as they streamed down my face and joined the now-cold water surrounding me. I brought my hands up to cover my eyes, glad Tiff wasn’t home to hear my wailing. She’d been good about staying with me since the breakup, but tonight she just wasn’t here. The hole in my heart felt even deeper now. I wondered if he found someone, if he was happy now. Hell, maybe it was his ex. The thought tore my heart out and ripped it in two. I wanted to be happy for him if it was true, but I just couldn’t be. I was still too selfish. I still wanted him to love only me.

-

 New friends, new beginnings or whatever.

That’s apparently what I thought when I began attending more clubs at college after the breakup, meeting new people and eventually finding a really solid friend group. All who happened to really like punk-rock music.

“You should really go with us,” Shang directed his words at me, “There’s a new band popping up that’s playing this weekend. It’s three hours away but they have great music.” 

I sighed, not fully convinced although it did sound fun. The last concert I’d been to was one of Yunho’s and though I hadn’t even seen him in what felt like forever, I still couldn’t help myself from thinking of him anytime someone talked about concerts. Sensing my apprehension, the woman beside me spoke up.

“Road trip! Road trip! Road trip!” Tyra chanted in my ear, her black curls bouncing with her as she clapped her hands between the words. “Come on, it would be so much fun and you know it.”

I bit my lip, deep in thought. I knew I would have fun but I just didn’t know if that would outweigh the pain I would feel.

“What’s the band name?” I asked, looking at Shang.

“Honestly?” He scratched the back of his head, “I was a little drunk when I told one of my friends I’d be there so I don’t even remember what they’re called.”

“How do you know they have great music, then?” I laughed, Tyra agreeing with me, apparently not knowing who was playing when she agreed either.

“I mean, my brother listens to their music and he’s got good music taste so they’ve gotta be good.”

I closed my eyes as I felt an oncoming headache, knowing they wouldn’t accept no as an answer. “Fuck it.” I stated, “I’ll go.”

The two cheered, Shang promising that I’d enjoy myself. I doubted it, truthfully, but really it was decided that I’d go the moment the pair brought the idea up to me.

-

Our trio waded through the giant crowd as the doors opened to let us into the venue. It was big, one of the larger concerts I’ve been to. Whoever we were seeing was successful, for sure. The volume at which everyone was speaking was essentially a yell, so I had to do just that to get my messages through.

“I still can’t believe we have no fucking idea who’s playing!” I yelled at Shang.

He laughed, “I got seats towards the front row, though! I didn’t even have to pay for them!”

“That’s not gonna matter if we don’t know any of the lyrics, you dipshit!” Tyra barked.

“Okay okay I should’ve asked, I get that now.”

As we found our way towards the seats, there was a big projector with the words ‘Sidekick Heart’ displayed across it. My heart dropped and I suddenly felt it become hard to breathe.

“You got us tickets to a Sidekick Heart concert?” Tyra beamed, “I love their music and I’m practically in love with San! His vocals are insane! Holy shit, Shang!”

“Ohhhh yeah I remember now.” He chuckled.

I seemed to fade into the background as the two of them discussed their love for the band and the members. All I could think about was seeing Yunho again.

Would he see me? How would he react if he does?...Does he hate me?

I only came back to reality when the audience began to cheer and I saw all the members step onto stage. Seonghwa cradled his electric guitar, in one arm, waving at the audience with the other. Wooyoung plopped down behind the drum set, smiling at the audience while twirling a drumstick. With his bass guitar, San, ever the king of expressions, gave his best smoulder to the audience and it seemed like the audience collectively screamed over him. Then came Yunho out to center stage, his electric guitar in his hands and a smirk on his face as if he knew everyone in the damn building wanted to fuck him. And he’d be right. The spotlights on each of them made them look like actual gods. If I didn’t know them personally I would have thought they were.

Yunho leaned into the mic, his gruff voice taking me by surprise, “Hello everyone! Great to see you all! If you haven’t been to one of our concerts before this is how it’s gonna work: You’re gonna dance, we’re gonna sing, we’re all gonna have a fucking great time tonight!”

The crowd erupted as the first song began to play. It was one of their more popular songs and for good reason. All over it was a really well put together song and I couldn’t help as I began to mouth along to the words. Song after song played, some I knew some I didn’t, and the entire time I couldn’t look away from the man singing. He radiated confidence and looked relaxed as if he’d been performing for decades. I knew he wasn’t as cool as he seemed, I’d given him so many pep talks before performances I couldn’t count them, but as an outsider you’d never know.

I wonder who talked him up this time?

“Alright everyone. This is the last song of the night and-”

The audience booed, everyone upset at the night coming to a close.

Yunho laughed. The sound was rich and beautiful. He was truly enjoying himself. This is what he was meant to do, with or without me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry.

Yunho’s voice filled my ears. “I know, I know. I’d love to stay a bit longer, too. Here’s the thing though...” He paused and I opened my eyes only to see him looking back at me. His eyes automatically softened as they always did when he saw me, but as if he remembered how we ended his gaze hardened slightly, like he was trying to distance himself. It felt like we’d been looking at each other for hours before he opened his mouth to speak again, but I knew very well that my perception of time had been off for a while.

“Even if we only have this little time left, I’ve truly enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. The fact that it’s coming to an end soon is what makes it so special, I think.” Yunho broke eye contact with me, smiling slightly and glancing back out at the sea of people. “Seeing your smiling faces, your energetic cheers—all of it—is a reminder to me that we’re so lucky to be doing this as a job. Really...I love you all.”

The audience let out a chorus of ‘awws’ which was followed by several rather aggressive ‘I love you too’s.

The lead singer once more smiled, “Now, without further adieu, this is one of our newest songs and it’s called Brown Eyes, here it is.”

The music began to play, all instruments coming together to make a somber tune. Somehow they were always able to write music that perfectly encapsulated emotions or ideas. This one? Loss.

“Since you left you’re still so infused

In how I think and what I do

Can’t seem to get you to leave me alone

Your ghost stayed here and she watches my tears

That run down our picture frames”

Then he found me again in the crowd, no doubt able to see the tears staining my makeup, no doubt able to see how broken I was. And still, he sang.

“I’ve tried hard to fight it

Yet I keep givin’ in

There’s been no one but you

I’m trapped, confined

And your platinum smile still knocks me out

Every single time”

He kept eye contact with me, not once breaking his gaze. It was almost as if he wanted me to break first, as if he wanted me to look away before him. As if he was daring me to leave him again.

San stepped closer to his mic and took his eyes away from his bass guitar, Yunho’s voice being replaced by the purple-haired man. As his voice rang out I only could’ve hoped the next lyrics were about one of San ex’s, not me. Even if they weren’t, Yunho still looked at me.

“It’s not aimed at me 

Maybe it never was

But oh darling, you could’ve fooled me”

My eyes flickered down, unable to look at Yunho any longer. His gaze only broke my heart further and in turn I felt my eyes water. After a moment or two, I worked up the courage to look back at him. He was still looking at me like he never moved his eyes. I couldn’t seem to register the lyrics until Yunho began to sing again, his voice drawing me in as it always did.

“You've disappeared without a trace

Left an unsuspecting guise

Love, I need you to know

I’ve been losing far more than sleep

Over those deep chocolate eyes.”

As the song and the show ended and everyone in the crowd cheered, I felt a rush of emotions run through me. Thrilled that they’d become so successful, proud of them for putting on such an amazing show, and hurt because I could still see a sliver of sadness in Yunho’s eyes.

I hurt him.

Yunho then reluctantly said his goodbyes to the audience along with the rest of the members. His jaw tightened as he walked over to Wooyoung, whispering something in his ear before walking off stage. Feeling like I was set in a trance, I grabbed my Tyra’s arm and mumbled something about going to the bathroom before following him. I completely ignored her questions and concerns about where I was going, dead set on talking to him again even though I didn’t have a damn idea what I was going to say.

Somehow, through the giant maze of people, I was able to spot Yunho leaving through the backstage. Instinctively I ran towards him, still having no plan in mind. I only stopped when a purple-headed man appeared before me.

“Y/n!” He smiled, bringing me into a hug, “I missed you so much!” He pulled back from me, “We all did.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung came from behind me, both wearing sad, kind smiles. They looked healthy and happy, which was all I could’ve asked for them.

“How’ve you been, girl?” Seonghwa cocked his head, genuinely curious.

I hesitated, not sure if I should tell them the truth. But at the end of the day, they were still my friends. “Not...great. If I’m being honest. I was kinda hoping I could talk to Yunho...if I could.”

They all shared a look I couldn’t understand.

Wooyoung spoke up, “We’re having a party at a friend’s house after this, you should come.”

I was surprised, still not fully understanding the situation.

San frowned, “I think it would be good for you two to talk. He didn’t tell us too much about what happened, but I’m sure you had a good reason. You were always so good to all of us.”

“I can text you the address if you’d like,” Wooyoung added, “You still have the same number?”

I nodded.

“Okay, good. We need to get back but we’ll see you there. Take care, okay?”

“I will. Thanks guys.”

San pulled me in for another hug, “Of course.”

They waved as we parted ways and for the first time that night, I felt hopeful. I spotted Shang and Tyra and ran up to them, no doubt a smile on my face as I asked, “Soo...you guys up for a party?”

-

I ditched my friends the moment we arrived, barely even sparing a word with Seonghwa, San, and Wooyoung once they nudged me in the direction of Yunho. I didn’t try to think too much about it, knowing I’d explain it all to them later.

He was standing in an empty bedroom, looking at the floor and sipping out of a red cup which likely contained liquor. When his eyes met mine a rush of memories flooded back to me. The first time we kissed, the first time he confessed he loved me, the first time he saw me cry.

The first time I broke his heart.

His eyes raised to mine, his face stoic, “Enjoy the show?”

My mouth opened and closed, not having any clue what to say to him, “Yunho I-”

“I know why you did it.” He said suddenly, “A week after you left me Lucy showed up to one of our shows and tried to convince me it was all a coincidence. Said that I could finally be with her. When I didn’t buy it she finally gave in and told me she convinced you we were better apart. So naturally I called the cops and they arrested her for breaking the restraining order, thank god.” He shook his head, looking disgusted, “You know I never wanted us to be apart. My question to you,” he took a step further towards me, “is why did you do it? Why did you end us?”

When I couldn’t seem to respond he talked once more, “You could’ve told me what she was trying to do. We could’ve worked it out together.” He looked more disappointed and heartbroken rather than angry.

He doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Yunho.” I bit my tongue as I fought back tears, “I’m not asking for you to forgive me. I-I’m just-” I sobbed, “Lucy told me she would kill you if I kept dating you.”

Yunho’s mouth shut and eyes widened, clearly missing that bit of information. I took it as my cue to continue “I don’t know why she did it, but it’s probably because we were happy.”

More tears fell down my face and it became harder for me to talk, but I owed him the truth. I had to tell him the truth. I looked up at him but because of my tears my vision was blurred. Yunho’s hands were tightening into fists as he looked away from me.

“I couldn’t tell you because I had to protect you so I had to make you hate me and I’m just so sorry.” I fell to the ground, my body feeling as heavy as my heart.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and I brought my eyes to meet his own, “I’m sorry.” A tear streamed down his cheek, heavy remorse in his eyes, “God she’s fucking awful.”

A laugh got caught in my throat, “Yeah she is.”

He set his cup down somewhere along the way a his hands cupped my face, finally whispering the words I’d only heard in dreams, “I still love you so fucking much. I never stopped loving you. I never even tried to stop because I know I couldn’t.”

I jumped into his arms and kissed him hard, unintentionally knocking him to the floor. He met my lips with just as much fire, groaning when I unconsciously bucked my hips into his, all my sexual frustration still pent up.

“I missed you so fucking much.” Yunho growled, obviously feeling needy too but deciding against it as he wrapped his arms around my waist, speaking in between kisses, “I missed your cute laugh. I missed your lips. I missed your fucking awful jokes. I missed the way you’d look at me whenever you told me you loved me. I missed your gorgeous body and your smile. I missed your moans and the way you arched your back when we’d have sex. I missed how alive you made me feel.” He pulled back to look at me, “My life had no purpose without you.”

I took a breath, tears once more falling, “Mine didn’t either.” It wasn’t anything profound or emotional, but it was the truth. It didn’t.

Gently picking me up, he placed me on the bed. His eyes were raw, as emotional as they could ever be. Taking my hands in his, he looked at me as if I would disappear at any minute.

“Stay with me. Come with us on the rest of the tour. If you can’t take a vacation we’ll hire you as an assistant. If you can’t do that we’ll make some other kind of accommodation. Just stay, please. Please be mine again.”

I looked at the man in front of me. The tough-looking, six-foot tall, tattooed, strong man that could probably scare the shit out of anyone. Yet here he was, bearing his heart to me and being as vulnerable as a person could be.

I smiled, feeling my heart swell. “I’ve only ever been yours.”

-

The morning was bright, lighting directly hitting my eyes. I cursed myself for not closing the blinds the night before and blinked off my sleep when I heard a familiar pleasant sound.

Jumping down from the bed I put on the new fluffy bathrobe my lover bought me. I followed Yunho’s voice out to my porch, realizing I was listening to a new song of his. The man was strumming a guitar, a beautiful melody falling from his lips. When he noticed me, he smiled and continued to sing.

“I’m in a vivid yellow mood

You’re my muse, my home and room

And now that I have you again

What could I ever fear?

Oh do me a favor, dear

And inscribe your name on my sleeve

Let me keep it there forever

Because you’re better than any daydream.”

[avintagekiss24]

day with destiny | b. barnes

→ pairing: aristocrat!bucky barnes x aristocrat!black!reader

→ word count: 3000

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, biting kink

→ challenge: @cockslut-padalecki​ not my ninth

trope: aristocratic society

song prompt: crush by jennifer paige

→ square filled: @star-spangled-bingo​ 2021

g5: clothed sex

→ author note: i was finally able to reign myself in with these word counts, lol. i saw this gif of baby faced sebastian and couldn’t help myself. he looks like a little shit, but look at those pink lips… anyway, these are modern!aristocrats. lyrics to crush aren’t obvious (except for one line at the very end), but worked into the dialogue. i have no idea who made the gif, i got it from google. i also have no idea who made this divider, as i also got it from the google.

Blue eyes peer over at you from across the table, the gaze searing into the side of your face. A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, but you don’t dare cut your eyes— this game is entirely too fun to give in now. Instead, you take a deep breath, pushing your chest out— your tits— shifting roughly in your seat just to make your flesh jiggle, before you release the air slowly.

Cabinet meetings are never fun. Rich, old white men going on and on about their views for the country— your family of course bringing the only sense of color into the society. Some old man yammers on at the front of the room behind the podium. Heads nod, claps ring out at random intervals, loud here here’s filling your ears as you roll your eyes. You don’t have the least bit of interest in any of it as it stands today, but your blue blood, and rank in the family— poised to take over for your dear old daddy in the coming years— requires your presence.

Bucky Barnes is quite the same. Young, bored, and too damn pretty for his own fucking good. You squeeze your legs together abruptly, the images of the last cabinet meeting playing back in your mind. Hot, sticky breath. Reddened, swollen lips— against your ear, sucking on your skin. The salt that exploded on your tongue as he shoved his thumb into your mouth.

You stand quick, clearing your throat— sending a silent message to the youngest Barnes at the long table. A hand grabs your wrist, stopping you as you start to move towards the back of the room, “Mother?”

“This is important, daughter,” she whispers harsh— a warning.

“And so is my bladder, mother.”

She sighs heavily, but releases the grip around your wrist, “Yours and the Barnes boy, apparently.”

Flicking your eyes quickly, you smirk as he pushes his chair underneath the table and starts towards the large doors at the back of the room, rubbing at his chin with his hand, the sunlight glinting off of the rings adorning his long fingers. You watch him as he moves— so easy, so confident— as he runs his hand through his dark, perfectly clipped hair, the Loubotins on his feet clicking softly.

You only drop your eyes when he slips through the door and out of view, “Ten minutes, mother.”

She knows. She knows that you know she knows, but she just sighs again and lets you saunter off without a second glance. Dress dragging behind you, bottom lip sucked between your teeth, heart and blood starting to race as each step draws you closer to your silver tongued foe, lying in wait for you in a random, deserted hallway.

He’s leaned against the wall, gazing out over the city beneath, hands drawn into his pockets. He’s a sight, but he always is, each little brown hair in place, chin and cheeks so clean shaven that a hair wouldn’t even dare sprout. Body lean in that black military jacket, gold medals and hand stitched ribbons hanging from the pockets.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” you smile soft, crossing your arms over your chest, leaning against the very same wall.

Bucky glances over his shoulder, that shit grin he’s such a proud owner of spreading on his face, “Then stop propositioning me.”

You laugh— it’s gentle and soft, the dissonance of your long relationship easily melting away. He finally turns and takes a few steps towards you, extending his hand, tenderly taking your fingers. Those deep, emotional eyes stay on yours as he lifts your hand, lips brushing— glancing ever so lightly over the backs of your delicate, manicured digits. Then he smiles, slow, sweet, teeth sinking into his blushed bottom lip as he blinks just as slow.

He’s a sight, this Bucky Barnes.

Keenly aware of his family’s teetering reputation, hanging on by a mere thread as of late due to his fathers extra curricular proclivities, you can’t help but take a swipe, “I’m surprised you’re family’s allowed back in the building. It got a little tense last time you all were here.”

“It did, didn’t it?” he answers quickly, placing your hand on his shoulder before he pulls you in close— a long arm wrapping your waist, pinning you to him, “I don’t remember much though, as my face was buried in your cunt for most of the meeting.”

Shivers race the length of your spine. He feels it— revels in it— savors it.

Lively brown eyes bounce back and forth between heavy, brewing blues, “You aren’t afraid that the rest of them will move to vote your family out, Lord Barnes?”

“Not in the slightest,” you’re met with a defiant shrug, “I hate this shit.”

“Oh, how original! An aristocrat that hates the god given privilege bestowed upon him.” You sigh, tilting your head towards the ceiling as he nuzzles into your neck, your hands sliding up and over his shoulders, “You’re predictable, Barnes.”

“You’re one to talk about privilege, My Lady.”

“Am I?” You retort quick, quirking an eyebrow.

A brilliant smile is cast upon you, blue irises like gems, sparkling under the light, “Your blood is the richest in the room— the bluest of blue— and you speak with such animosity of mine as if you haven’t prevailed your entire life because of it.”

“Bested by the color of our skin, which has precluded my lineage of its rightful place for years,” you scoff, leaning into him, “It was not privilege that got us here, Lord Barnes,” you whisper, “It was persistence.”

He chuckles against your skin, the vibrations rattling through your body, right to your bones. Hot velvet slips along the curve of the junction between your shoulder and neck before teeth scrape and then sink— tenderly— right into the meat, making you gasp. Hands grip, fingers dig into his opposite shoulder as he nips and nibbles.

“You’ll lose everything,” you breathe, heavy, languid as his mouth, his tongue, his lips move to your jaw, your chin, “Your family will be ruined.”

“I’ll be okay,” Bucky hums low, a smile on his face, dark eyelashes splashed over his pink tinged cheeks. His long fingers play with your lips, prodding gently as he rests his forehead to yours, “With a face like mine baby,” he whispers, that devilish smile painting his red tinted lips, “I was born to marry rich.”

He pushes his leg between yours, spreading them, pushing the meat of his thigh right against your sex— the thin silk of your panties sticking to the balmy, wet flesh. The tips of his fingers flirting with the inside of your calf before pushing up over your knee, skirting up your own ticklish thigh.

Bucky takes pleasure in the honeyed giggle that bubbles in your chest and slips out of your mouth, knowing not just anyone can coax such a genuine reaction from you. Metal fingers push higher— sweeping softly, back and forth, over the powder pink silk panties, discovering the warm wet spot, a white hot fire filling his eyes.

“Will you marry me?”

You grunt some, leaning in, putting full lips right against his ear, “Absolutely not,” the words whispered.

“You sure?” he squints, drawing your face back in front of his, thumbing at your bottom lip, pulling it open, “There’s something in those eyes.”

“Let’s not over analyze, Lord Barnes,” you tisk, slipping a hand between your bodies, cupping his cock— squeezing his heat— with care of course, “Don’t go too deep with it. It’s just—”

“What?” brisk, curt— the words cut off by a feverish, deep kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, sweeping against the roof— heavy, hot, rushed, desperate for you as he groans, “What is it?”

You pull at his belt, at the button and zipper, hand and fingers sinking into his open pants, pushing through a rough, dark, tuft of wiry hair. He whirrs, strained and broken, body clenching up as your warm palm wraps around him. Long, slow strokes pull more tiny sounds from him— a skilled muscle memory, what he likes, what he doesn’t, what he needs— taking over.

A sweet kiss, soft and quick, is pressed against his cheek, your lips against his ear once more, “It’s just a little crush, Bucky. Just some little thing that raises my adrenaline when I need a shot.” His cock jumps in your hand, a quick hiss and stunted grunt filling your ears as you lick your lips, “Don’t make too much of it.”

Bucky grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks hard, puckering your lips before he kisses you feverishly again. The cool metal digits grab your neck, a soft pressure constricting the muscles as he pushes you back, back against the window— using his body to crush you to it.

The smack of his lips disconnecting from yours ricochets off the walls, filling the small hallway. He licks your lips, dragging his tongue from your chin right to the tip of your nose as he anchors your leg on his hip. Hot flesh fingers slip up your thigh, pulling your panties to the side, the cool air sending a shock to the wet, delicate flesh of you. He sucks that bottom lip back between his perfect teeth, tilting his head back slightly to peer at you through those long, dark eyelashes.

You mimic him. Tilt your head back on the glass, sink your teeth into your swollen lip, hand still stroking him slow, wetting the pads of your fingers with his silk. His hips rock soft into your palm as you sweep your fingers over his tip before dragging back down his length, gripping him firm. With a quick blink, you’re staring at him— angry, thick, throbbing in your hand. A bead bubbles out, spills right over, a long string hanging from his reddened tip before his cock twitches again— leaving you breathless. Knees almost buckling. Mouth going dry as your lungs struggle to fill.

“Come on, baby,” Bucky purrs, goading you as you push his cock through your folds, rolling your hips, teasing your waiting slit with his tip.

Surprise sweeps through you when frankly, it shouldn’t as you sink down on him. The muscle memory of your hands don’t translate to the muscles of your cunt— his size, how much you have to spread to accommodate him, like a revelation each and every time. Bucky almost never rushes it, and neither do you, like it’s something new every time.

But it isn’t, no no, it’s ancient for the two of you. Connecting like this in long, skinny hallways, cramped closets, old hotel rooms under the mask of darkness. The muffled sounds of your sex as you try and ultimately fail to keep quiet, filling the abandoned spaces— bringing life to them again.

Loneliness often fills your chest if you go too long without it.

Bucky is buried to the hilt in you now— rooted deep in the tightest, hottest space of your body. He takes a minute, pushing his hips, wiggling— adjusting— before he pulls out slow. All the way, cock bouncing as soon as it breaks the threshold. He doesn’t wait long though. Nope. He’s back inside of you within seconds with a slam of his hips, pushing you up the window. Pulling a squeak and a rush of air from you.

Those red lips of his part, his heavy tongue pushing out to slip along his bottom lip as his eyelids drop, covering the blue you’ve come to enjoy. You can’t help but reach out, place your warm palms and fingers on his blushed cheeks, tracing his nose before they prod at his bottom lip, the tips just sinking into that wet mouth. He draws long breaths, exhales them all over your face as he starts to move.

You let the rhythm carry you away. Up into the clouds as your head rolls to the side, hands fall to his chest and around his neck. Tits bounce with each shove, starting to spill over and fall out of the square shaped neckline of your intricate dress. Hair starts to fall out of place, heat rises in your cheeks, desperate little wet noises beseeching him.

Bucky’s a good fuck. Ever the playboy, never thinking twice of an encounter until— well, you, as he so softly put it one night in one of those dark, old hotel rooms while you both dressed. There’s a filth to it. The way he toys with you. Speeding up suddenly— skin slapping, echoing down the hall— and then, without warning or hesitation, slows down. Down to nothing almost. Soft pulses of his hips, just enough to drive you mad. To make you beg him for more.

To make you weak. To keep you coming back.

That’s how he is now. Barely moving, wanting you to squirm. Two big eyes, pupils blown stare up at you. Mouth agape, the smallest little curve on them. He wants you to beg. To tell him just how much— “Bucky,”

“Yes?” he shoves hard, pushing deep, “My Lady?”

“Please,” there it is, the beg— the want, “Please, Bucky.”

So, the filth is back. Yeah, it’s a little dirty how he grips your thigh, hard, nails digging and scratching into the meat of it. How he licks into your mouth and bites your lips before shoving that metal hand into your neckline, palming the delicate mound of flesh beneath. A brown nipple is soon exposed, tight and hard, after a quick tug of his hand yanks your dress down. It disappears again within a flash, right into his mouth, tongue circling.

An arch curves your spine when he sucks, a deep, low, stressed grunt sounding from somewhere deep in your chest. Your lips pucker, forming an o as you breathe heavy, then gasp quick before digging your teeth into your bottom lip and inhaling sharp. An already tight grip on his bicep and left shoulder constricts even more as he really picks up the pace, desperate and feverish his hips, tongue slipping into your cleavage.

There’s nothing but sounds and sensations— the squelch and squeak of his cock stuffing you, your stiletto slipping off the foot that’s hooked around his waist and thudding against the floor. The gold medals pinned to his military jacket bouncing soft against the thick material. His metal fingers tapping against the windows as he holds his weight.

Flashes of heat ripple through your body— muscles tensing and straining, cunt clenching, clamping. Fists balling. Stomach and head twirling as he gives you his best. And God, do you appreciate his effort.

The fuse proves to be short on this crisp winter day. A coil that had no chance of staying intact snaps earlier than you expect, body tightening hard, nearly freezing you in place the second before you start to come. Crying out— no shame, no sense of care if anyone hears— you just let it take over. Let him drive it home, hips snapping against yours, jutting, thrusting, pushing and pulling, sending you higher and higher.

Goosebumps on your skin. Heartbeat in your ears. A white hot flash, nearly blinding— it’s just that good. Metal fingers sink between your legs, playing with your clit, enticing it further as it spasms— wanting to feel every last bit of what your body has to offer.

Bucky hammers away, until he can’t. You’re just too sweet— too warm and wet and inviting. He’s painting your insides white within minutes, hot, quick shots of silk, filling you up, and then spilling back out. His head falls heavy to your chest as the last digs of his hips work themselves out, lips sticking to your damp, exposed skin.

You wrap him up, hands and fingers splaying out on his back, holding him tight and close as he empties and stills. Then, the two of you just breathe. Let the day, the room full of people, your families, your duties, just fade away. It’s just you and Bucky and that cool window against your overly warm skin.

It breaks— the moment. Just as it always does. Your body becomes empty as he tucks back into his pants. No longer pinned to the window, you bend to replace your shoe, pull at your dress. Bucky runs his thick fingers through his dark hair, you picking and smoothing at your own.

Stepping off after a few sobering moments without so much as a look or a smile, you're caught, a tight hand around your wrist, pulling you back. You crash into his chest, crash against his lips in one last, deep, sweeping kiss. One that once he pulls away, your eyes stay closed, lips stay puckered.

“You sure you won’t marry me?”

You know that if he asks one more time, your resolve will fizzle— and you will, “Very sure.”

A lopsided grin covers his mouth as he tilts his head, “Just a pesky little crush, huh?”

“There’s no vision of you and me quite yet, Lord Barnes,” you sigh, turning away and stepping  down the hall, “You just pray that I don’t decide to join the rest of the party and vote you out.”

“Make sure you keep a copy of your vote for me. I’ll want to frame it.”

You throw him a quick glance, “And why would you do something like that?”

“So I can show our children just how mean mommy was to daddy before we got married,” he starts, buttoning up his jacket. He kisses the pads of his fingers and blows on them lightly, sending you a kiss, “I have white picket fences in my eyes.”

Without another word, he spins on his heel and takes off in the opposite direction. A hum vibrates in your throat. The sounds of your heels and his shoes slap against the walls as the two of you walk away from each other.

It doesn’t take a scientist to understand what’s going on, baby.

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ lyric inspiration: “and I thought my heart was attached for all the sunlight of our past but she's so sweet, she's so pretty. does she mean you forgot about me?”

♡ pairing: timothy thatcher x fem! reader

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / also, i do take character suggestions for WWE/NXT/UK wrestlers now! remember only character suggestions! not full on reqs. 

and do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? an eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean.

you looked to Marcel and sighed, putting your head on your arms and looking at the way he was with his new girlfriend. it had been months that you and him were no longer but a part of your heart still hadn’t healed itself from the break up and it wasn’t exactly news to anyone. 

the cause of breakup was that Marcel wanted to be ‘free’. you had no idea what that meant and for the longest time, your relationship with the rest of Imperium had taken a strain because of it but when Marcel’s endeavors finally got back to you, thank Alex for that, you weren’t exactly surprised. 

“woah,” you heard Candice whisper to herself as you finally looked up to see what she was talking about. you stared at a few people, most notably someone you hadn’t expected to see, “is that Timothy Thatcher?” you asked her, surprised at seeing him. 

she nodded, “I had no idea he signed here,” you told her, as the manager of the performance center showed him around. Candice shrugged, “me either but hey, it’s nice to see him finally make his way here,” she admitted as you nodded in agreement. 

you knew of Timothy because of Marcel. the two were close because of their days back in wXw and the independent scene. although you hadn’t met him personally, you knew everyone on Marcel’s faction was super close to him. 

“i’m going to go buy a Red Bull, want anything?” 

“a water!” 

you nodded, grabbing your wallet and making your way to the vending machine not too far from where catering was at. you kicked the small scrap piece of paper that was on the floor as you overheard the conversation was having with his girlfriend. 

a part of you wanted to just go over there and scream at him for breaking your heart and not giving you closure on the relationship but you knew it was no use. you would gain nothing from it and all it would do would make you look like the crazy ex girlfriend. 

“hey! where ya sitting?” you heard Johnny ask you from across the hall. you pointed to catering, “with your wife! i’ll meet you there in a sec!” you screamed back as you put in your money for the energy drink. 

being that your mind was still preoccupied with your previous thoughts, you hadn’t realized that you still hadn’t punched in the button for your drink until you heard someone clear their throat, “oh, i’m sorry! i didn’t realize i was keeping the line up,” you stated apologetically. you quickly put in the money for Candice’s water and snatched it from the bottom.

you finally looked up and smiled softly, “sorry again,” you whispered as you realized that it was Timothy who was waiting, “oh, you’re Timothy Thatcher, right?” you asked a bit excitedly. he nodded, “big fan! loved watching your matches in wXw,” you added on. 

Tim smiled and shook your hand, “likewise, you’re a great performer,” he replied, as he saw the way your eyes lit up as you continued to talk to him and he couldn’t deny the fact that he actually noticed he was trying to keep the conversation alive, “wow, so, do you think you’ll be ready for next weeks taping?” you asked. 

“possibly. a few of the trainers might keep me working out until the end of the month until they find me someone to feud with,” you nodded understandingly, “ahh, that sucks, I expected you to be on quicker than that but I have to go before the trainers kill me for being late,” you said, giving him a small wave before jogging away. 

not long after, Alex, who had saw the entire interaction walked up to him, “you friends with ( your name )?” he asked, genuinely curious. Tim didn’t exactly reply and only shrugged, “well if you are, she’s super nice,” Alex murmured, “and could use someone to actually get over what Marcel said,” he said it so quietly that Tim couldn’t exactly figure out what he had said. 

Alex thought of you as a sister and absolutely loathed what Marcel did to you. he thought it was super ridiculous of Marcel to not be up front about his feelings and just leave you hanging with no explanation to his actions. he could see the way the heartbreak was still affecting you till this day and wanted nothing more than to yell at him for bringing his new girlfriend around. 

“wait, what?” Tim asked, trying to get Alex to repeat himself, “no, it’s nothing,” he quickly said, “I just said she’s super nice and she’s kind of like a sister to me.” 

Tim didn’t bother to press the question as he heard commotion coming from the cafeteria area. the two of them peeked their heads in to see you chugging your Red Bull back as you quickly grabbed your things, “fuck, I didn’t think I was on tonight,” you screamed as Candice followed behind you. 

you booked it out the door as you didn’t pay Tim or Alex any attention. they saw the panic on your face, along with Candice’s as the both of you ran into the locker room, “one day Hunter is gonna kill her for that,” Alex laughed as they heard the panic screams from the locker room. 

the two of them sat inside of catering as you were quick to put on your gear and head to makeup. your match with Candince wasn’t exactly planned but Hunter had told you to get ready in case it did happen but time had slipped when you were speaking with Tim and now you had twenty minutes to get ready. 

by the time you and Candice finished, you had no less than a minute before your call time. you tried to dry your face as quick as possible but time was no longer on your side as you heard ‘Requiem in D Minor′ play through the speakers. your theme was one that followed you through the indies as you thought it always made a statement when it played. 

“interesting theme,” Tim told Alex as he nodded. your gear consisted of all black attire along with darkened makeup to match it. your personality however didn’t match your aesthetic at all. your personality was a lot more happy-go-lucky outside the ring. 

���yeah she picked it years ago and I guess it kind of stuck,” he explained as they watched you walk on the ramp, staring at the fans with a mocking smug look on your face, “ask Indi on her last with her and she’ll explain why the theme gives her nightmares till this day,” he joked. 

the two of them watched you slide into the ring with ease before Candice’s theme went off on the speakers next. you were leaning against the ropes, not bothered by the insults Candice was throwing at you as the ring announcer called the match to start. 

you quickly grabbed Candice by her shoulders and threw her over yours as she slammed onto the ring with a loud thud. Tim was shocked to see the way you picked her up without hesitation. it looked like it was no sweat off your back as you followed up your move with a flip off the top rope. 

Tim could see the way you were clearly getting the upper hand in the match. it was another twenty minutes of back and fourth until you climbed up on the top rope again and did a double flip in the air before grabbing Candice’s leg and tapping her out. 

your theme blared through the speakers as you swiftly moved out of the ring and walked back slowly to the back. you blew the crowed a menacing kiss before you were fully out of view and collapsed onto a chair to catch your breath. 

“can you please go easy next time,” Candice groaned as she sat next to you. you laughed, smacking her shoulder lightly, “relax, this is just payback for what you did last week to me,” you retorted as you saw Alex walk towards you, “what do you want, Wolfe?” you said with a shaky breath.

he laughed, sitting next to you, “have you met Tim?” he asked, knowing the obvious answer. “met him earlier at the vending machine,” you replied, waving at him again. Tim did the same as Alex smirked to himself, a bright idea popping into his head. 

“we should all catch dinner tonight,” you stared at Alex in question, “who is all?” you asked, making sure ‘all’ didn’t include Marcel, “you, me, Tim, Candice, and if Johnny wants to come along,” he replied. you sighed in relief, “i’m down if everyone else is,” you said. 

Tim and Candice agreed as you and Candice left it to Alex to figure out where to catch dinner. you showered as quickly as possible as Alex had sent you twenty different messages to hurry up before everything got booked up for the late night reservations. 

all you put on was leggings and a random wrestling t-shirt they had lying around for all of you to wear. although you hadn’t noticed what the shirt was, Alex couldn’t help but laugh seeing that it was one of Walter’s t-shirts. 

you met up with Alex, Candice, Johnny, and Tim at the front entrance of Full Sail. a few steps away was Marcel and his girlfriend talking to Fabian. you had no idea if Alex had even spoken to them but as soon as you arrived, all of you jumped into Alex’s car. 

“so, what made you want to come over here and wrestle?” Candice asked Tim as the three of you were squished in the back, “figured it was time to head back home,” he said. you weren’t exactly paying attention to the conversation but Tim for whatever reason couldn’t help but look at you every once in a while. 

Alex noticed it immediately and mentally high-fived himself. he knew Tim long enough to know when he was interested in someone and he was able to tell that he was slightly taking an interest with you. he saw the subtle looks he was giving you and knew that if he played his cards right, the two of you could end up dating. 

the restaurant Alex picked wasn’t far from Full Sail. it was in walking distance of the arena which you found odd that all of you had to pack into the car when you could’ve easily walked it there. 

the hostess quickly sat all of you when you arrived and Alex made sure to sit you on the edge of the table with Tim. he felt a bit bad knowing he was plotting you to get with his friend but he knew it would help you with getting over Marcel for once and knew that Tim would not do what Marcel did if you two ended up dating. 

throughout the dinner, all of you stuffed your faces with Greek food and talked for what felt like hours when in reality it was just an hour and a half. the conversation never died out, especially when it was just you and Tim talking. you found it a bit funny that the two of you hit it off so easily that it felt like you had known him for years. 

+

a few weeks passed as you remained by Tim and Alex’s side. within that time, you hadn’t realized that you were hardly thinking about Marcel and his girlfriend. your time was spent either training, going out with the small group all of you formed, or just texting Tim when you were able. 

you had given Tim your number the night all of you went out. Alex had told you that it was odd to see Tim actually engage in a conversation with someone. he wasn’t exactly the most extroverted person in the world and tried to keep his friend group tight but with you, it was just a different story as he put it. 

Tim had finally made his appearance on TV and considering his appearance caused everyone in the crowd to go crazy when he finally stepped onto the ring, all of you wanted to go and celebrate it. 

you also had a match previous to Tim’s segment and you had once again hadn’t realized what shirt you grabbed from the rack when you picked it. however, Alex did recognize it. it happened to be Tim’s. they were shirts that they had just put on the shops website. 

“nice shirt,” Tim joked as he pointed it out. you looked down and laughed as you read the grey colored t-shirt, “shut up, I didn’t even realize it,” you retorted as you sensed your phone going off. you saw that it was Alex texting you. 

you quickly read the message and immediately rolled your eyes, “he dropped out of dinner. I guess Imperium had segments to do after the taping,” you informed him, “Johnny and Candice couldn’t make it because Johnny injured himself tonight and she wanted to make sure he was okay.” 

“so I guess it’s just the two of us,” Tim replied. you nodded as the two of you had just decided it was best to catch dinner at your place instead of making the drive into downtown Orlando, “what are you making me?” he asked as the two of you walked inside. 

you thought for a moment, “ever try peanut butter stir fry? it sounds gross in theory but i’m telling you, it’s amazing when you actually try it,” you explained, putting all the ingredients on the counter, “count me in, I’ll help you with it,” Tim said. 

you had put on music in the background as you and Tim got to cooking. the meal took no more than fifteen minutes to cook before you piled up your plates together and sat down on your couch and dug into it. 

“so, have you met anyone?” you asked Tim, wiggling your eyebrows. he thought for a moment before laughing, “are you talking as in a girlfriend?” he asked. you nodded, “no, I don’t really date, plus, I sort of like someone already,” you were surprised at his confession while also a little saddened. 

a part of you had started to like Tim as he was the one who mended that piece of your heart that Marcel broke. Tim could see that you were taken back by the answer and chuckled. 

“it’s adorable that you haven’t figured it out yet,” he said, making you now confused, “do I know them?” you asked innocently. he rolled his eyes and got closer to your face, “you’re adorable, you know that?” he whispered before placing a quick kiss on your lips. 

all you tasted was the peanut butter on his lips when you immediately kissed back. the plates were set on the small coffee as he brought you in closer as you laid on top of him and situated yourself on his stomach, “i’m guessing it’s me?” you asked playfully, “no kidding,” he murmured before kissing you once again. 

Alex, who had felt his phone vibrate earlier in the night, finally looked to see who it was and excitedly opened it when he realized it was you. you had Snapped him a photo of you and Tim cooking dinner as Tim was slightly holding your waist. 

“oh wow,” Alex said loud enough to catch everyones attention, “what?” Fabian asked curiously. Alex showed the table the photo of the two of you, “guess ( your name ) and Tim are finally together,” Alex mentioned, a small smirk playing on his face. 

“what do you mean finally?” Marcel asked, “the two of them had been seeing each other for a while now and I guess he finally had the nerve to ask her out,” Alex was purposely laying it on thick as he saw the slight jealousy flair up in Marcel’s eyes. 

“good for them,” Walter murmured as Fabian agreed, “right? I can see them ending up married if I’m being honest.”

Marcel, who now was no longer interested in the conversation, checked your socials to see that Alex was right. you had a few photos up of you and Tim together on you Insta as he played your Insta story next. he saw a few photos of you before landing on the photos of tonight. 

you had taken a photo of you and Tim eating dinner. a part of him hated that it was Tim that you landed on to date but Marcel knew that he was the last person you could say anything. he knew you absolutely hated his guts because of how he broke up with you but he felt an annoying feeling plaguing his stomach at the thought of you dating Tim. 

[qianoir]

After Midnight 2 - Rhiannon

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college dropout!Ten (WayV) x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, angst with fluff on top

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 13+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (censored), lying, family problems, mentions death of reader's father, romance, this part determines the reader’s age but feel free to ignore

♡ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @staysstrays

Preview < 1 < 2

𝟏𝟎:𝟎𝟎 𝐀𝐌

Should I call him? No! What if it wasn't meant for me? Idiot, there was no one else in the café of course it was meant for you! What if it's a prank? It's probably the number to a McDonald’s or something. And if it's not..? What if he never comes into the café again?

You woke up in a freezing cold room with an acquainted boy named "Ten Lee" on your mind, contemplatively staring into his napkin before finally deciding to text him.

You typed the 11 digits into your phone.

Ok... now what do I say?

Hi Ten, this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Hi Ten, this is Y|

|

Why do I even care about this so much? It's just a text and for all I know this kid could be some kind of siren-vampire trying to seduce me with song lyrics at nighttime.. is that even possible?

Hi Mr. Lee this is Y/N from Décalcomanie.

Why so formal? Oh God I sent it..

It’s done.

You grabbed a towel and prepared a quick shower before continuing the rest of the morning. Intruding thoughts about Mr. Lee fill your mind under the water.. like.. why does he only visit the café at night? Your prior superstitious suspicions about him being a vampire fall back in mind.

At least if I get to be a vampire I can live this timeline as a doctor and make my mom happy, then be a dancer for eternity.

As much as you did not know about Ten, you still knew quite a bit about him. His favorite combination at the café is an iced Americano with pandan cake, his favorite color is black— you assume since it's the only color his outfits consist of, and he has a younger sister, which you found out after hearing him say 妹妹 over the phone one night.

The loud text notification sounds throughout the bathroom and you nearly slip trying to quickly finish your shower to check the new message.

Mom (Work)

My daughter! Your grandmother is sick, I am going to Incheon to bring her medicine and groceries so I need you to open the café today. I should be back to take over at 2 o’clock. Be careful on your own!

Unwrapping your body of your towel to dress into a nice outfit, you sighed knowing your Saturday would be another day spent on your sore feet. The café opens at 11 AM so you would only be working an extra few hours, but you hoped your mom would let you take a slice of delicacy home for the filial overtime.

“Aya!”

Another loud notification tone beamed from your phone, forcing your name brooch to prick at your fingertip. The screen luminated with an unknown number.

Contact Not Found

hihi Y/N! no need to be so formal with me! I'm only from ‘96 :)

Contact ‘TEN’ Added

TEN

are you free today? I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee and ice cream, if you're not sick of the smell yet ;p

You frowned remembering the plans your mother made for your day.

Y/N

I'm so sorry Ten my mom wants me to work opening for the café today :(

Figuring that was your ending, you packed a bag full of necessities for the day and walked to Décalcomanie.

TEN

why don't I come over there? the café serves bingsoo this time of year right? it’s barely the afternoon, not many people will be dining. we could still hang out if you’re down?

Butterflies soared in your stomach just like they do every night at 11:59 PM.

Y/N

Yeah that sounds perfect :)

TEN

okk see you soon!

Eek!

It felt so weird to think of seeing him in the daytime, especially after just mentally accusing him of being a bloodsucker.

Upon your entrance, the café was soon bright with morning light and you patiently awaited Ten’s arrival. Nearly an hour had gone by and there was no sign of him. You didn't think he would flake out, but you barely know each other so why wouldn't he?

Ten was right; it was pretty empty here this morning. You bent forward to hand one of the regular old women her tea in the Décalcomanie’s prettiest teacup upon your mother’s request of the best service for all of her regular customers.

The bell chimed with an open door. Your eyes blinked to the woman's upturned phone by her saucer.

𝟏𝟏:𝟓𝟗 𝐀𝐌

Could it be? You laughed at the irony in the thought, but when you looked up from the woman’s table, a rice cake cheeked boy stood across from you.

"I'm here!" He announced to the entire floor.

You bowed a greeting like you do for every customer and ushered him to the bar, "Sit down over here." where he sat in front of your standing form. "What type of bingsoo have you come in for, sir?" You teased.

"Coconut with vanilla ice cream! And.. two spoons?"

You blushed at the thought of sharing subtle intimacy with the fine young man before your eyes. You had only just met him, but you saw no harm in sharing a dessert with him as you would do with friends.. if you had them.

Nodding and running off to make the icy dessert, you heard the ripple of a writing pen. From the corner of your eye, peeked Ten orchestrating an English poem onto a stray napkin, his brown bangs falling on the bridge of his nose. These little actions made your heart jump; his passion for various styles of music felt so endearing to you.

You paid for the grandiose bowl of sugar and presented it to Ten. His phone lit up with a notification and you took notice of his wallpaper: Him with a disgusted looking boy that he was French kissing on the cheek. I'm not judging but.. whomst?

"Who's that?" You asked, handing him a spoon, taking another for yourself.

He glanced at his phone and blushed, breaking out in quiet giggles.

"That's my friend, Yangyang. We really enjoy our time together."

You hummed and smiled. They seem to have a good friendship, but you were still curious to know more about this Yangyang guy.

"So you attend university?" Ten asked before shoveling a high spoon of ice flakes into his mouth.

"I'm a sophomore at SNU." You replied, mirroring his bold eating style.

Ten spoke with surprised eyes, "Really!? That's a fancy school. Wow～ you must be really smart."

"Not really.. I'm studying dance. All I do is move my feet."

"I'm a dancer, too! It's a really hard and beautiful art, you shouldn't sell yourself short for being a part of it." He genuinely advised.

You looked down after thanking him for his kind words, suddenly feeling very bashful. "How old are you, by the way? You calling me Mr. Lee this morning is all I've been thinking about." You both laughed.

"I'm 20, turning 21 this year.” He nodded. "You're from ‘00? Yangyang is the same age as you!"  He exclaims.

"I’ve never met someone my age! How many friends do you have?"

"I have a few, but I’m closest to a specific six and we all live together."

"It must be nice to have so many friends. It’s been a little difficult for me to make friends this semester.." You stirred some melted ice cream around your side of the bowl, suddenly feeling very lonely in Ten’s personal presence.

"You should come over sometime! We love new friends!" He was pleading with his eyes for you to agree.

"Oh.. I don't want to intrude-" "No really! We would love to have your company. Here..." He flipped over the napkin he was previously writing on and scribbled a short address on it, sliding it over to you.

"You should come by tomorrow evening. 5 o'clock if it works for you." Ten says before finishing off the last bit of flavored dairy in the bowl.

You scanned over the inked napkin in your hand.

97 Saemunanro, Sinmunno 1 il-ga, Jongnogu, Seoul

"It's apartment number 117. Just call me when you get there because we may not be able to hear your knocks over the screaming." You looked at him in slight concern, but he only smiled in return.

Ten took out his card to pay for the bingsoo, but you stopped him. "Oh I already paid for the both of us!"

"Aww you didn't have to," Ten frowned, but handed me $20 anyways, "Here take this at least. A tip for my favorite barista." He winked and ran out of the café before you could protest.

"REMEMBER 5 O'CLOCK!"

Ten shouted, bumping into a man, who cursed at him, profusely bowing on the way out. You shook your head at his silliness and flipped the napkin over to a pretty poem.

She is like a cat in the dark and then

she is the darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark

and when the sky is starless

To Be Continued…

Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[gyllenhaalstories]

SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.

notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so i’m sorry if this is pure trash! i never finished watching southpaw because it was too dark for me, but i took some very loose inspiration from it. warnings: mentions of dark past, mentions of sexual content... this got really long (2k words). gifs credits: alphalewolf. extras: if you want more informations about rapper!jake, please scroll through my blog. i have edited some older posts with the tag: topic: rapper!jake, so check it out if you’re interested. i have taken some ideas and put them in this list. (at the end of the list i provided some goodies!)

PART TWO WILL BE UPLOADED SOON, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR IT!

attention, attention! please note i know absolutely nothing about rap. i very rarely enjoy listening to rap music, it’s simply not for me. this might be inaccurate and off compared to the actual world of hip hop and other similar genres. i apologize for my lack of knowledge! this is an au in which jake is not an actor or a producer or anything of the sort. his fame, he built it with his music. you must keep that in mind while reading these headcanons or else it will get confusing. also, i’ve taken some loose inspiration from jake’s actual work, but that’s just for the sake of backstory. are you ready to dive in this twisted fantasy?

Jake Gyllenhaal. Known as Hall. He exploded the charts after being picked up by one of the biggest record companies for his first album: Hall of Fame. He was a rookie, yet he was older than most of the rappers you can think of today. He worked his way up undercover. He started participating in poetry and slam nights at local cafés. He became a songwriter, through connections. He sold some songs that are absolute classics today, but he does not care. He did not feel like they fit him anyway.

Growing up, Jake had it rough. There was a lot of fighting at home. His older sister was the perfect angel and him? The absolute disaster child. It was not like he ran after danger and trouble, he seemed to always be at the wrong place in the wrong time, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He managed to avoid juvie on some miracle. What was the miracle, you might ask? He was caught robbing some local bank with his “friends” and the cops, at first, did not believe he was innocent. While his friends were screaming and threatening the innocent clients of the bank, Jake actually tried to help them out of the building safely. The cops arrived at the same moment and thought he was keeping the strangers hostage. He was arrested on the spot. The other guys played the victims, blamed it all on Jake but it was only when Jake wrote the whole story, from the beginning where his friends manipulated him and made of him their puppet to when he felt this adrenaline rush telling him he needed to save the strangers that night. His writing was too sincere, too raw to be a web of lies. The police released him, but they kept an eye on him.

His escape were writing and music. He impressed all of his teachers at school. Talented, gifted, magical. That was how they described Jake at every parent and teacher meeting. Writing dumb sentences that made very little sense and playing with a guitar after school, that did not make his parents very proud compared to his sister who was on top of all of her classes and working hard for a future of wealth and success.

Music was his entire life. He would come home from school and blast music until he was called out for dinner. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Heart, Pink Floyd, Metallica, name it. He liked it loud. He liked it weird. He liked it with a deeper message, with double meaning.

He worked all types of jobs, some legal and some not so much. He was saving money for college. He applied. He got in. He started his classes. He had big dreams, too, he had ambitions. Maybe he could his talent to good use? He wanted to study philosophy, literature, music, creative writing... Anything that required thought and depth. He made friends, there. He befriended the edgy punk guy, he had tattoos everywhere, he listened to the same bands, he was quiet but his essays spoke volumes.

Jake was disappointed, his illusions were broken. He hated the format of his classes, the feeling like his opinion and his inspiration did not matter, it was always about meeting some stupid requirements to please a rich professor who did not care about passion, about talent, about originality. Jake dropped out, soon followed by his friend. His friend was hired at a tattoo parlor and Jake hung out there all the time. He would stay up until 5 am, 6, 7, all night and all day long. He loved the clients there. He would write and read his writing out loud to the clients when they were tortured by the needle shooting the ink in their skin. Talented and gifted, they all the same thing.

He started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

He wrote, not just stories and opinion pieces. He started writing songs, melody and lyrics. He started playing them, he started writing his own poetry too. He was introduced to freestyle battles. And as he fought against other talented thinkers, he noticed he spoke with a tempo, with a rhythm. He was rapping and he did not even realize it.

His career sky rocketed from the moment a music producer attended one of the rap battles. He was famous, he got quite the thick wallet and the connections. Jake was introduced to legends of hip hop. They all influenced him as his career grew to become something overwhelming and terrifying, yet thrilling and addictive.

Hall had a style of his own, though. It was romantic, yet absolutely disgusting and dark. It was aggressive, yet vulnerable and philosophical. He spoke of his trauma, of his hatred, of his envy, of his fears... He used his songs as an escape. He was becoming his own escape.

And his own prison. His family did not care about him, he was a shame, even. Aside from his old college friend, he never built strong friendships. They were all after him for fame and cash. He slept around, guys and gals, threesomes, foursomes... He did not care, anything for some genuine connection, even if it lasted for a very lazy and messy fifteen minutes in the trashy bathroom of a concert hall. Rumour had it he was a great lover, but he was so bad at loving.

Now it gets interesting...

Hall rapped alongsides Eminem, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott... The biggest pop stars were fighting just to get him to rap a line in their songs. Rihanna wishes he was the one singing Love the way you lie, does that give you an idea? He appeared on duets. He wrote more solo albums, sold them instantly. He never left the top of the billboard in weeks, months, if not years. It never really got to his head. He was still that sensitive boy writing about knights and princesses in his bedroom with walls covered by band posters. Fans did not care about this side of him, they loved him for his lyrics about snorting coke, drinking his pain away and fucking whoever wore the tiniest skirt around.

His latest album, Southpaw, was an even bigger hit. Pure filth. Pure gold. Imagine 13 tracks, Cardi’s and Megan’s WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. That’s some real depth here, no pun intended.

You met him at one of his concerts. Your friend won VIP passes, so you were standing in the front and got to take a picture with him. You did not understand the hype around taking a photo with this guy, he just stood there and looked absolutely emotionless.

You hated rap, or perhaps you loved it. You did not care much for Jake, that was for sure. You thought he was just another lame rapper who thought he was the real deal because his lyrics were so explicit, even the clean versions made angels cry. The truth was, you did not know much a bout him. You found him too commercial, like he was scared of becoming irrelevant.

You saw right through him already.

But him? He already cared too much about you. You caught his attention as he rapped his songs. He could not take his eyes off you. You weighted heavy on his mind, caused him to stutter and forget lyricvs. Fans laughed, they said he was probably too drunk or too high too focus. Drunk in love, that’s what it was.

There was something about you. Maybe it was the Black Sabbath shirt you wore. Maybe it was the unimpressed look on your face. Maybe it was your plump lips he wanted to kiss. Maybe it was the sight of you laughing with your friend that made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact you treated him like a normal person even if you had not spoken to him first.

So, you met backstage.

Your friend was beaming from ear to ear, showering Jake in compliments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jake asked you.

“For someone who shows no emotion, sound dead inside and look like they wish they were doing anything but making dozens of thousands of dollars by singing a couple of semi mediocre tracks, yeah, it was not that horrible.”

He was up for a challenge.

You two exchanged insults like it was a boxing match. Each round was getting more and more intense. It was no longer insults, it was straight up flirting. You noticed when your bodies were so close you could smell the scent of watermelon chewing gum that escaped from his warm breath. You could hear the way his raced even faster than yours.

You were snapped out of this fantasy by his bodyguard, indicating other fans waited for him.

He remembered the name your friend called out, saying he needed to bring you home before something bad happened.

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

He hung out around that concert hall for the next couple of days. At the bar nearby, at Starbucks, at McDonald’s, anything for the sake of seeing your face again.

And he did.

You were walking out of the record store with a vinyl of Heart squeezed under your arm. You looked so happy. You had paint stains all over your clothes. You were erasing the memories of a terrible relationship by decorating your tiny apartment, and you needed to set the right ambiance. You needed guidance, you found it in the strong minds of the ladies behind Heart, in Joan Jett, in Stevie Nicks. You found your silver lining in music.

Jake ran behind you, he pretended he was out jogging and he mysteriously bumped into you. He grabbed your vinyl before it could fall on the ground.

“Nice pick.”

“We finally agree on something.”

Another round of flirty insults...

... That ended in the two of you fucking like animals on the floor of your apartment.

And fucking on the couch the next day.

On the kitchen counter the morning after.

And finally, on the bed. That was a really special one. Jake was the first person to be on your bed since the departure of your ex. He could feel that you were not in the mood for a rough battle for dominance.

That night, he made love to you.

For, quite possibly, the first time in his life, he expressed his love directly to somebody. “Princess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing”, he showered you in compliments, and praises. The slow movement of his hips, the intense passion in his eyes and love in his heart spoke louder than the music you were playing in the background to set the mood.

You were not just another trophee to hang on the wall. You were special.

He was special too.

He bought you every record that reminded him of you. He bought you collector items of your favourite bands. From the silliest decoration to a new car to replace your crappy one, passing by tickets to exclusive and sold-out shows, Jake had never felt more famous in his life than when he was with you.

His fans noticed the change in his songs, in his lyrics. They were just as explicit, just as rotten and just as corrupted. However, they came from a place of light and love, not of darkness and rage.

He sang about how good your felt when you climaxed around him. How drenched he was whenever he made you squirt. How he loved to taste himnself on your lips. How he was full of love and of lust for you. How he would quit everything if it meant he would live a normal life, for once, and with you.

You inspired so many songs that became massive world-wide hits.

You travelled the world with him on tour. You helped him design his new merch and you wore his t-shirts with pride. You attended concerts in your freetime. You loved staying up all night, painting and drawing while he was writing about this mirage of a goddess, blessing his existence with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

He was addicted to you.

He was crazy for you.

And he went crazy on you.

for research purposes and not because i wasted my time hearing eminem talk about stuff i don’t understand so i could stare at jake’s thighs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_cKP4OjsA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whV5oQDvVWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqC9URTJIQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5imXD1LPnwo

and finally, for good measure :

@gyll-yee-haw​ ily

[waitimcomingtoo]

I Keep On Missing You - CHOOSE YOUR OWN ENDING

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader X Brad Simpson

Warnings: jealousy, angst

Authors Note: I’ve always wanted to do a choose your own ending, so here it is! You can choose to end up with Tom or Brad from The Vamps. If you don’t listen to The Vamps, the story will still make sense but I highly recommend them because they’re awesome. A reader got me into them when she requested a Brad x Reader story many months ago and I’m finally delivering. Enjoy!

Masterlist

It was your first time appearing on the Graham Norton show, and you were on with Tom Hanks and Brad Simpson from The Vamps. Tom waited for you in your dressing room, and you felt a little less nervous knowing he was there. You made easy conversation with the other guests until you noticed something funny about Brad.

“You look like my boyfriend.” You noted, noticing how he bore a striking resemblance to Tom. Brad looked at you with a sly smile and raised his eyebrows.

“Is that a come on? Like I look like your next boyfriend?” Brad asked in his husky British accent. The audience cheered and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“No, you genuinely look like him.” You defended with an embarrassed laugh. Brad pretended to hang his head in disappointment.

“That’s a shame. I was kinda hoping it was a come on.” He said as he scooted a little closer. You rolled your eyes playfully and fixed your dress, knowing he was staring at you. 

“Sparks are flying.” Graham instigated. “Have you two met before?”

“We met a few years ago but we didn’t keep in touch.” You nodded.

“We should’ve kept in touch.” Brad said, to your surprise. You’d become a fan of The Vamps since meeting him but figured he’d forgotten you. “Maybe then I’d be your boyfriend.” He added with a causal shrug. The audience erupted again. You touched a hand to your burning cheek and looked at Brad, who had his tongue between his teeth.

“Brad.” Graham gasped. “Such a flirt.”

“Yeah, should we leave and give you two some room?” Tom Hanks joked, making your blush even worse.

“I did think you were cute.” You said as you crossed your legs and leaned back, figuring there was no harm in telling him that.

“Really?” Brad asked and you nodded. “I fancied you so hard. Do you know my song Lovestruck?”

“Yes, obviously.” You said, still recovering from him saying he liked you.

“Guess who I wrote it about.” He said cheekily. Your jaw dropped at his implication, feeling simultaneously honored that he’d written a song about you and embarrassed that he heard you singing Wonderwall incorrectly and immortalized it in song lyrics.

“No way.” You stated.

“I wanted to scream your name over the airway.” Brad shrugged again as he referenced the song and you beamed.

“I think Y/n wanted to scream your name as well.” Graham said with a smirk.

“Woah there, Graham. I have a boyfriend.” You laughed in embarrassment again as Brad raised his eyebrows and looked at you.

“That’s right. Mr. Tom Holland.” Graham made a face and the audience applauded. “Is he here tonight?”

“He’s probably plotting Brad’s demise in my dressing room right now, actually.” You quipped, feeling somewhat guilty that Tom was backstage watching you get flirty with another boy. You decided to tone it down a little. “I’m so flattered you wrote me a song though. That was really nice.”

There. Nice. Nice wasn’t flirty. Nice was nice.

“Darling, I’d write you a million love songs.” Brad said suavely, and you had to look away. Your heart was racing. Yes you loved Tom, but one of your favorite singers just said he’d write you a million love songs. The rest of the interview went by in a blur and you couldn’t remember any of it. You made sure no more flirty interactions happened between you and Brad as you said goodbye and got his number before rushing to your dressing room.

“Tom?” You asked sweetly as you entered the room. He was sitting on the couch, looking through his phone. From his posture alone, you could tell he was angry.

“Hey, Tommy.” You sat down next to him and rubbed his back. He tensed you under your touch and didn’t look up from his phone.

“What was that?” He asked bleakly.

“That was, uh, that was Brad.” You offered.

“I know who he is.” Tom said impatiently. “I mean why were you all over him?”

“What?” You took your hand off his back, a little insulted. “I wasn’t all over him. It was innocent flirting that he started. And you know how Graham is. He’s a trouble maker.”

“It didn’t seem innocent.” Tom finally looked at you and he definitely wasn’t happy. “He’s into you, and he didn’t seem to care that you had a boyfriend.”

“Tom, it’s fine.” You switched back to being comforting. “He’s not into me. Don’t worry.”

“He called you darling.” Tom said gravely. You blinked in annoyance. You were trying to take the higher road, but Tom was making it impossible.

“He was probably just playing it up for the audience.” You said, the sweetness in your voice fading. “It’s nothing. Like I said, don’t worry about it. He’s actually really nice and we made plans to hang out.”

“You are not hanging out with him.” Tom stood up swiftly upon hearing your words. He put his hands on his hips and you suddenly felt like you were being scolded by your father.

“That’s not your decision.” You stood you as well, folding your arms.

“It makes me uncomfortable and I don’t want you around him.” Tom shrugged as if to say “too bad” and you scoffed. “I-I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?” You repeated with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, since when are you in charge of me?”

“Since Brad Simpson wrote a song about you.” Tom shot back.

“So? That’s not my fault.” You snapped.

“He wants to write more, darling.” Tom exaggerated the last word and you found yourself getting angrier and angrier.

“I can’t control what he does and you can’t control what I do.” You stated before taking out your phone and drafting a message.

“What are you doing?” Tom moved closer to you but you pulled your phone away.

“Texting him.” You said without looking up. “I’m just saying I had fun seeing him.”

“Don’t text him that. He’s gonna think you’re into him.” Tom protested and grabbed your phone from your hands.

“Thomas!” You said in annoyance. Toms eyes softened. He knew that wasn’t the move. He handed you your phone back sheepishly and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I’m just-“ he tried to apologize.

“Just insanely jealous? Just trying to control me? Just overreacting to me making a friend?” You spat. Toms eyes hardened back up and he lowered his voice, soft by still firm.

“He doesn’t want you as a friend.” He shook his head, his eyes pleading with you to understand.

“Well I want him as a friend and you can’t stop me.” You said, not harshly, but factually.

“You’re not allowed to text that boy.” He warned. “I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?” You scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant.” Tom squeezed his eye shut as he looked for words to say. “I just don’t want you texting him.”

“I’m not.” You held up your hands in defense. “But I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“He called you darling.” Tom repeated to make his case.

“Okay, and?” You shrugged. “I like being called darling.”

“By me.” Tom practically growled. You raised one eyebrow and felt like challenging him.

“You don’t own the word.” You taunted.

“It’s my nickname for you and he used it.” Tom said possessively.

“How was he supposed to know that’s your nickname for me? He’s British. It’s a common word. Let it go.” You dismissed him again and the conversation ended there. All conversation ended there, because he didn’t say a word to you in the car, at home, or before you went to sleep.

You sat up in bed in the middle of the night when a light started pouring through your eyelids. You stirred and saw Tom sitting up next to you, holding your phone in his hands. You sat up and didn’t say a word.

“You texted him.” Tom said without any emotion.

“You went through my phone?” You asked, half asleep and confused.

“Hey! I had a nice time seeing you again tonight. I definitely want to take you up on that offer to catch up over coffee. Let’s just try to stay in touch this time.” Tom read your message out loud in a cheery voice. “I really liked seeing you too! I forgot how funny you are (and how gorgeous lmao). I’d love to meet up. Name the day and I’ll be there. It’s a date.” Tom read Brads response in a deeper voice. He looked completely unamused.

“You went through my phone.” You said again, not as a question this time. As a statement.

“He said it was a date.” Tom added, never taking his eyes off the messages.

“You went through my phone.” You said as if you were realizing something. You got out of bed and threw a robe around yourself.

“You said you wouldn’t text him.” Tom looked at you, furrowing his eyebrows as you began to put some things in a backpack. He watched for a minute as you kept your back to him.

“What are you doing?” He finally asked. You stopped packing and looked at him, tears in your eyes. You held the robe close to you and shrugged sadly.

“I don’t think this is working out.” You said, and the tears fell.

“What?” Toms face went white and he scrambled out of bed. You stepped away from him when he came near you.

“You and me.” You sniffled and shook your head. “This...this feels wrong.”

“Darling-“ Tom said tearfully as he reached out for you. You backed away.

“It’s Y/n.” You corrected, zipping up your back and heading for the door.

“You can’t be serious.” Tom whimpered as you zipped your jacket up and opened the front door. You stopped at looked at him for a while, taking him all in. You shivered, then nodded.

“I am.” You said, and shut the door behind you as you left.

Six months after you’d walked out, Tom saw a picture of you and Brad kissing on the cover of a magazine. His heart broke into pieces as he realized you really were serious.

CHOOSE YOUR ENDING

YOU END UP WITH TOM

YOU END UP WITH BRAD

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona​ @sunrise-shawn​ @foreverxholland​ @writing-for-hours-on-end​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @autumnlyholland @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @ho-ho-holland​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @m19friend @justcallmehitgirl​ @iamanerdot @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @celestial-skylines​

[cakesunflower]

Room 304 [C.H. One Shot]

Summary: Hooking up with her half-brother’s ex-best friend probably wasn't the best idea. But no matter what Maeve told herself, it wasn’t entirely a bad idea, either.

Important Note: There’s, like, a 98% chance that this entire fic is not going to show up if you read it on a desktop. This fic is 29,440 words, written in 3 days, and it’s my baby. I can’t believe I finished writing all of this, but I’m hoping you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. But, yeah, the entirety of the fic probably won't show up on desktop because it’s so fucking long, so if you want to read all of it ((which I assume you would)) please read it on your mobile Tumblr app. And please, please, please let me know what you think of this fic. I planned every bit of this fic down to the detail, and I would love to know what you think. Also, the cute little lyric edit in the middle of the mood board was made by the lovely @easiertostayy 

Without further ado..... Happy reading!

Day 1

Returning from the bathroom and settling on her seat, Maeve wasn’t surprised to see Lina taking a picture of her freshly arrived food before posting it to her social media, placing the napkin on her lap and eyeing her own grilled chicken sandwich. The Bryant Park Grill was one of Maeve’s favorite spots; the flowers they were surrounded by on the rooftop restaurant along with the string lights, tabled umbrellas and view of the park made for a great place to have lunch or dinner after a day in the city. So when Lily had told Maeve she’d booked a table, the blonde caught the next bus into the city and met up with her best friend, where the two of them sat with the sun setting behind the buildings that began to glitter with lights brightening their surroundings. Peaceful and much needed.

But before Maeve could even reach for her sandwich, her eyes caught sight of two familiar faces talking with the hostess, and Maeve realized in that moment that it had been damn near a year since she’d last seen Calum Hood. She couldn’t seem to pull her gaze away, taking in the way the black bomber jacket hugged his broad shoulders and dark curls subtly danced in the light breeze that blew by every few seconds. It was an instinctive reaction, to admire how good he looked, smiling at the hostess as she grabbed two menus and led him—and Michael, who Maeve realized was accompanying him—to an available table.

A table that was right by her and Lina, with an empty one right in between. Maeve didn’t miss the second Calum’s eyes landed on her, stopping right next to the hostess by the table as his dark eyes met her bluish-green, lips parting in too late realization of just who he was about to sit near.

Before either of them could say anything, could even acknowledge one another, it was Michael who broke the silence when he confusedly followed Calum’s gaping gaze, a startled laugh escaping the tattooed blonde. “Oh, shit, Maeve!” he exclaimed familiarly, voice loud and happy at the sight of her as he pulled his chair towards his table. “How’re you doing?” His green eyes shifted to the red head across from Maeve, nodding his head as he added just as sincerely, “Hey, Lina.”

While her best friend waved as she smiled around the straw she was sipping her Moscow mule from, Maeve managed to find her voice, returning Michael’s smile as she said, “I’m good, yeah.” Calum slowly sat down opposite of Michael, just to Maeve’s right, as she looked at him once more before adding almost gingerly, “Hey, Calum. Been a while.”

She wanted to instantly cringe as she said that last bit—of course it’s been a while. The last time she’d seen him, things had gone to hell a bit too fast, beyond anyone’s control, and she doubted anyone needed a reminder. But the memory was still there; Maeve could feel it in the awkwardness that pursed her lips, could sense it in the way Calum’s hands were fisted on his knees under the table. Briefly, she wondered if this was genuinely difficult for him—to be around the half-sister of the man who used to be one of his closest friends. A man who, the last time Calum saw him, had given him a busted lip and left with a broken friendship he had no intention of fixing.

The brunette man nodded with his gaze on the table in front of him before he finally forced himself to look at Maeve. God, it was awkward. They all knew it, could feel it. While Michael occasionally still hung out with Ashton, neither Maeve nor her half-brother had seen or heard from Calum for almost a year. It was like as soon as Ashton and Calum’s friendship had fallen apart, Maeve stuck by her brother and cut Calum out of her life, even if his role hadn’t been as significant as it was in Ashton’s. It could be blind loyalty, because to this day Maeve didn’t truly understand what exactly had happened between the two men, and it was no use asking Ashton because he was as stubborn as they come. He didn’t talk about it, and that was that.

“It has,” Calum agreed, voice carrying the familiar rasp and hint of lisp she hadn’t heard in a while. “How’s uh—how’re your parents?”

She wondered if he was about to ask about Ashton before stopping himself, wondered if he missed his once close friend and wished she knew if her brother felt the same way. Lightly clearing her throat, Maeve nodded as she answered, “Yeah, they’re good. All good. Yours?”

Calum rolled his lips into his mouth before offering a quick smile, like it almost pained him to do. “Everyone’s great,” he responded, grabbing the menu the hostess had left for them and turning his attention to it.

The conversation dissolved after that and Maeve tried not to focus on the air around them being tense or awkward as she ate her food, throwing a wide eyed, helpless look towards Lina. Her friend got the message, and Maeve gave Lina a relieved smile as her best friend started up a conversation with her, leaving the boys to decide on their meals. But still, Maeve couldn’t help the way her eyes would not so innocently glance over to Calum whenever she reached for her drink and sipped at it, looking at the tattooed man from the corner of her eye.

The topic of the Big Fight—capital B, capital F—was basically a taboo around Ashton. He never talked about it, and no one ever brought up Calum around him either, despite the two of them having many mutual friends. As she took in the sharp line of his jaw and silver rings on his fingers, Maeve wondered if it was the same for Calum, if he turned into a stubborn, hostile fool if her brother was brought up. Maeve listened to Lina talk, absently twisting her lips to the side. Boys were so ridiculous.

Despite the initial awkwardness, the rest of lunch wasn’t too bad. Michael often pulled the girls in for a conversation or two before they went back to their own discussions, and each time Calum and Maeve remained silent if the other spoke. Maeve couldn’t help but think Calum didn’t speak directly to her because of everything that happened, and so she stayed quiet in return. As if they had come to a silent agreement that speaking to one another wasn’t allowed—an agreement neither of them quite remembered signing off on.

By the time Maeve and Lina finished their food and paid the bill, the boys were halfway through theirs. Getting up, Maeve shouldered her purse and followed Lina around the table, and stopped at the guys’ table to say, “See you guys; it was good to see you.”

She purposefully locked her gaze with Calum’s as she said the last bit, hoping that he would see that she genuinely did mean it as a breeze had the ends of her short blonde hair tickling her collarbones. Maeve wasn’t entirely sure if her skin prickled from that or from Calum’s eyes intensely holding a gaze she initiated. He remained seated, relaxed in the chair and right arm rested on the table as he gripped his bottle of beer, expression so unreadable that it almost had Maeve bristling on the spot.

She was about to regret even saying anything until Calum finally offered a nod, subtly tipping the mouth of his bottle towards her as he stated, “You too, Maeve.”

Though it was just a three word response, it was one that left Maeve satisfied as she shot the boys one last smile before following Lina out. And when Maeve got home, after a bus ride and car drive to her neighborhood that was unwittingly spent thinking of a tattooed brunette she hadn’t seen in a year, she caught sight of her half-brother who happened to be over rather than at his own place, and the words spilled out of her mouth.

As she shut the door of the fridge after greeting Ashton, pulling out a bottle of water as he helped himself to the bag of veggie sticks in the cabinet, Maeve stated, “Guess who I ran into today.”

“Taylor Swift?” Ashton joked, grinning dimply at his own unfunny reply as he dug a hand into the bag he was holding, giving a shake of his head to move away the dark blonde strand of hair falling over his eye.

Maeve didn’t even grace him with a roll of her eyes as she swallowed the cold sip of water, coincidentally swallowing down the hesitance as she leaned back against the stainless steel fridge and responded, “Calum.”

The expected reaction was almost immediate in how Ashton’s expression instantly fell, features darkening at the mention of his old friend. Maeve watched him, head tilting ever so slightly, almost challengingly, as she noted the way Ashton thinned his lips. She even heard the crunch of the plastic bag he was holding, grip tightening at the sound of the name he hadn’t uttered in a year. All signs of joking vanished from Ashton’s features, bright eyes a darker shade of hazel and expression stoically grave.

It was palpable how heavy the tension in the room settled, all by a mention of Calum, reminding Maeve of the unforgettable fact that her brother was still pissed off at history. Still, Maeve bit the inside of her cheek before adding, “He was having lunch with Mic—”

“Didn’t fucking ask,” Ashton cut her off, harsh and unkind and final as he fisted the top of the bag of chips and walked out of the kitchen with powerful strides, the muscle in his jaw jumping and the veins in his arms threatening. Maeve watched him go, eyebrows raised, before hearing the sound of the television in the living room clicking on and Ashton raising the volume as a way of drowning out whatever she may have to say.

She gave a shake of her head at his absence and pettiness, scoffing softly as she looked the other way towards the window above the sink looking out into the backyard. Sure, she’d expected him to react as such at the mention of Calum, but it never failed to strike her as absurd. Was whatever happened between them really so bad that talking about it would only flare up Ashton’s already thinning temper on the matter, or was it truly so ludicrous and trivial that Ashton didn’t talk about it because he knew it would only paint him as someone holding onto a grudge that’d be better of letting go of? At this point, Maeve believed it could honestly go both ways.

Day 22

The door of the store thudded closed followed by the sound of footsteps, informing Maeve that someone had arrived rather than left, and she focused on finishing folding a men’s polo shirt while welcoming with the customary, “Hi, how are you?”

She looked up by the end of her greeting, polite smile turning into a surprised parting of lips as she looked at Calum. They both underwent a simultaneous moment of recognition, Calum recovering before her as the corners of his lips quirked into a small smile as he returned, “Hey, Maeve.” His dark eyes glanced around the store before landing on her once more. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

The blonde placed the folded shirt onto the appropriate stack, the table of polos separating her and Calum as he took the few steps towards her. The store wasn’t too busy, the music playing through the company playlist louder than the chatter of coworkers and few customers around, so Maeve busied herself by recovering the men’s section. The last person she expected to see was Calum walk in.

“Someone’s gotta pay for my makeup habit,” she responded lightly, a small joke to ease whatever tension that may remain between them since that evening of running into each other in New York. It had been almost three weeks since they first saw one another after everything, and Maeve hadn’t been entirely sure if she’d see Calum again, writing off that day as a fluke. Wasn’t really sure if his presence even called for the hours she had spent thinking about him, which was an unnerving fact on its own. Rubbing her hands down her jeans, she asked, “Can I help you with anything?”

He blinked, almost as if he was just then realizing that she’d offered to be the one to assist him if he needed it. Maeve considered if he would prefer it if someone else helped him should he require it, and couldn’t help herself from adding pointedly, “Unless you’d rather me get one of my coworkers?”

Calum’s dark eyes looked into her bluish-green, the color of her eyes never one he could ever figure out, before his eyebrows drew together ever so slightly. Like he was genuinely confused at her question. He responded to her inquiry with one of his own, “Why would I want that?”

Maeve almost wanted to laugh. She hoped he wasn’t being serious. She saw the question swimming in his eyes and her smile faltered slightly, suddenly filled with the same exasperation she felt towards Ashton when Calum and the Big Fight were involved. So Maeve shrugged, eyebrows raised challengingly, arms folded on top of the blue and yellow stacks of polos as she coolly responded, “You tell me.”

He was silent for a few moments, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek as he accepted the fact that her statements were justified. Calum nodded to himself, dark curls dancing across his forehead, before he told her, “Dad’s birthday is coming up and apparently anythin’ I brought isn’t dressy enough.”

Maeve’s gaze dropped from Calum’s face, taking in the clothes he was wearing, aware that it was probably a sin for a shirt to fit someone that well and feeling the sudden urge to touch the silver chain necklace he wore along with the matching bracelet on his wrist. She appreciated the tattoos on his arm that were in view, and from some of the looks Calum was receiving upon his arrival, Maeve knew she wasn’t the only one who did. She bit back the urge to swallow, meeting his gaze once more and keeping the even tone as she mused, “Yeah, athletic shorts and Zeppelin tees don’t exactly scream formal wear.”

Calum’s chin dropped to his chest and Maeve didn’t miss the smile that quirked his lips as he let out a short chuckle, hands splaying by his sides before he slapped his thighs and said to her, “Kind of why I’m here.”

It was a cute sound, his breathy chuckle, and Maeve’s own mouth tilted at the sound of it before gesturing to her right. “Button downs are to the right, and if you want dress pants they’re towards the back.”

He was capable of picking out his own clothes, Maeve knew, not wanting to hold his hand through the process, and was only proven correct when she was running the fitting room. She was folding the go-backs when he walked in with two pairs of pants and a few button downs of different colors draped over his arm, and Maeve shot him that close mouthed smile she often shot customers while unlocking one of the fitting room doors for him, cringing when he walked in and shut the door. Her customer service smile was for customers, not Calum.

Maeve could vaguely hear Calum shuffling around in his stall over the music as she kept folding the small hill of clothes that were on the fitting room table left by customers. She thought of Calum, and of how she hadn’t seen him for a year and suddenly had seen him twice in the span of three weeks, wondering if there were any more run-ins with him she’d have to face. He was more of a presence in her life than he was in Ashton’s, even if it had been two interactions weeks apart, and that fact kind of saddened Maeve.

Ashton and Calum were so close, best friends, and to see Ashton grow so hostile over the mention of Calum and Calum to feel whatever level of awkwardness he may at the sight of her was just a reminder of how much things had changed. Obviously Maeve didn’t share Ashton’s dislike for Calum—she didn’t have enough information to given that the reason for the Big Fight was still unclear—but she wasn’t entirely sure where she stood with Calum. Granted, they weren’t as close as Ashton and Calum, but the latter had still been her friend, and Maeve had only abandoned him because of her loyalty to her half-brother.

And she’d never tell Ashton, but Maeve had kind of missed having Calum around. He’d always been the quietest of her brother’s friends, but the silence that followed once he was gone wasn’t the kind she was used to.

She heard the door open, and in the midst of folding a pair of jeans, Maeve glanced over to see Calum step out of the stall, one hand reached behind him to make sure the door didn’t close all the way through. His eyes instantly found Maeve, but she was too busy taking in the way the baby blue button down hugged his figure, the short sleeves wrapping around his biceps a bit too well. Calum smoothed it down with his hands, the shirt tucked into fitted black pants before running a hand through his hair, pushing the curls back and away from his face.

Maeve could feel her mouth dry at the sight of him, giving herself a moment to admire the man in front of her because the shock of seeing him the first time at the restaurant hadn’t given her the opportunity to do so. She could see the chain necklace peeking out just a bit from under the collar and Maeve wasn’t exactly sure when he started wearing that specific piece of jewelry but, shit, she was glad it was there.

“What do you think?” Calum asked, raising an eyebrow at her as he held his hands out as a way of presenting himself. “This good enough?”

Good enough didn’t do him justice. His curls were messy and the tattoos under the somewhat formal wear provided Calum with a boyishly handsome aura that Maeve actually felt herself tightening her grip on the jeans she was holding. She was deaf to the music playing throughout the store, all too aware of the quickened pace of her heart, wondering when exactly Calum Hood was able to have such a pulling effect on her.

“Uh, yeah, it is,” she quickly responded, not wanting to stand around just openly staring at him. The last thing she needed was to give Calum an open invitation to her betraying thoughts. Not when he was already watching her expectantly.

Calum looked down at himself, taking in the shade of the shirt before saying, “I like it, but ‘m gonna try another one too.”

He turned to head back into the fitting room, and right before the door shut, Maeve quickly recalled the various colors he’d taken inside and found herself blurting out, “Try the yellow.”

Calum paused at her unexpected suggestion, glancing at her over his shoulder, and Maeve forced herself to not visibly cringing at her spontaneous burst as Calum glanced away before meeting her gaze once more and nodding. She even saw the ghost of a smile tilt at his lips before he disappeared inside, and as soon as the door shut Maeve raised the folded jeans she held and pressed her forehead against the denim, squeezing her eyes shut so tightly that she could feel it in her temples and wondering what her damn issue was.

It wasn’t even a big deal but, God, her conscious wouldn’t stop telling her she probably just embarrassed herself. Over the color of a damn shirt.

But then the door opened a few moments later and Calum stepped out, and Maeve felt the air rushing out of her lungs at the sight of him in a sunny colored button down, not at all harsh on the eyes, looking absolutely golden against his inked brown skin. This time, when Calum’s expectant eyes met hers, Maeve could see the hint of mirth dancing in the dark brown irises, could hear the smirk in his voice as he quirked a knowing eyebrow and asked, “Better?”

She hugged the jeans to her chest, catching the smirk that actually did make an appearance on his full lips because he definitely caught the way she swallowed the lump in her throat before, almost enchantedly, breathing out, “Better.”

When Calum proceeded to leave the fitting room after changing back into his own clothes, offering to hang the shirts he didn’t want from where he’d picked them up so she didn’t have to, he surprised Maeve by stopping in the entrance of the fitting rooms. She raised an eyebrow at him as she folded a graphic tee, looking at him with a combination of expectation and confusion, especially when she noticed the furrow in his eyebrows like he was conflicted about something, the previous relaxed expression he wore nowhere in sight as his features tightened. Something had changed.

And when she noted the muscle in his jaw ticking, Maeve knew it couldn’t be good.

What he said only proved her correct. “You know, I understood when Ashton cut me out of his life. But, I gotta say Maeve—” Calum sucked his teeth, finally looking at her, and she felt herself tense up at the disappointment and hurt that was in his eyes, neither of which she had been expecting. “—I didn’t think ya had it in ya to drop someone like that so quickly.”

Maeve stopped what she was doing, Calum’s words freezing her in place as she gaped up at him with widened eyes and parted lips. One corner of his lips was curled in resignation, disillusionment, and Maeve found herself hating that she was on the receiving end of that look. The back of her neck started heating up, spreading to her cheeks at the unexpected confrontation, and Maeve began stammering as she tried to reason, “I—Ash’s my brother, Calum. I couldn’t—”

“Stay friends with the guy your big brother punched out? Yeah, clearly.” He scoffed, derisive and unimpressed, only serving to heat up her face more. Cutting off Calum when Ashton did had always been something Maeve had been iffy about, had told herself she didn’t need to stop being friends with someone just because Ashton had. But then again, Calum was Ashton’s friend before he ever was Maeve’s—he had been one of Ashton’s best friends. So what right did Maeve really have keeping Calum around?

She just never expected him to be upset about it.

With a shake of his head, Calum licked his lips and looked ahead, throat working as he continued in a voice that was gruffer than his usual rasp. “You have your loyalties, I get it. But things went to shit between me and Ashton—not me and you. The least you could’ve done was give me a heads up that I was losing two friends instead of one.”  

He walked away and Maeve was stunned into silence to do anything but watch him go, wondering if the heaviness in her chest was an inkling of what Calum must’ve felt a year ago.

Day 25

The music playing through Ainsworth was almost deafening, making it damn near impossible for Maeve to hear what her friend Audra was screaming into her ear. But Maeve was enjoying herself, nursing a margarita after two rounds of tequila shots, sticking to her drink for the most part. It was a Thursday night and after her shift she’d quickly gone home to change before meeting up with her friends in Hoboken, keeping company in the restaurant/bar by the water as she enjoyed her drink after splitting a mac and cheese burger with Lina.

Maeve was having a good time, she really was; the music was good and the food had her full and the two rounds of tequila shots had been free for her and her girl friends. And yet, she was alarmingly aware of the eyes that would ever so often find hers, dark yet glittering under the dim bar lights, and as much as she tried not to look his way, Maeve couldn’t stop herself from every so often locking gazes with Calum.

He was sat at the other end of the bar and as the bass of the music resonated through her chest, Maeve wondered what he was doing at a restaurant in Hoboken when he apparently lived in the city. The sight of Michael and a few of their old high school buddies answered her question, and Maeve did her best to focus on spending her time with her own friends rather than looking towards the man who had all but told her off just a few days ago.

It wasn’t until she was done with her margarita that she looked over, eyes locking with Calum’s, did she still on her seat on the barstool. Through the moving crowd between them, Maeve could see Calum watching her, couldn’t tell what he was thinking because of the stoic mask he wore on features too gorgeous not to admire as she looked right back.

But then Calum looked away, and Maeve’s heart sank with the beat drop of the song when she couldn’t figure out if Calum hadn’t found what he was looking for, or if he was just disappointed by what he did see. Her grip on the edge of the bar tightened, silently asking herself why she cared, why the weight of his gaze burned her skin in a fire she didn’t want to put out, and Maeve let out a breath.

She wasn’t anywhere near tipsy as she stood up, heels of her feet clacking against the wooden floor as she excused herself from her friends and began making her way to the bathroom with her purse in her hand. The breath of relief escaped her as soon as she stepped inside, the music from the bar muffled as the door shut, and Maeve approached the sink as she ran her fingers through short, wavy blonde strands. Looking at her reflection, at the flush of her cheeks and the pink lips she’d been nibbling on as soon as she caught sight of Calum, Maeve knew exactly what was going on.

Accepting it was just proving to be difficult.

There was a longing that coiled in the pit of her stomach, one that had begun to form the other day in the fitting room of the store and had only intensified the second Calum stepped foot into Ainsworth. Pressing her palms on the cold marble of the sink, Maeve dramatically wondered if this was God or the universe playing some kind of prank on her; as if her, without provocation or warning, being attracted to the one man her brother seemed to hate was the funniest joke anyone could come up with.

A huff escaped her pink lips as she glared at herself in the mirror; the only one to blame was herself, really. And maybe Calum for popping up in her life more in that past few days than he had in the past year.

Mostly the blame went to herself, though, and her eagerly relentless body’s equally relentless yearning of a touch only Calum could somehow satiate.

“Great,” Maeve muttered to herself, her little bathroom trip resolving nothing and only serving to add onto the tension in her muscles. She pulled open the door and began making her way back to where her friends were, the music once again loud and clear, and as Maeve looked ahead she found herself slowing to a stop, heart dropping at the sight of her brother and Calum standing a bit too close for comfort. Standing closer than they probably had in the past year.

Maeve caught sight of Lina, who even though she was tipsy, was fully aware of the situation and knew how badly it could go. Everyone seemed to sense the suffocating tension in the room, from their friends to the bartenders to any other customer around that wasn’t part of their group. Maeve noticed Michael and Luke hovering by Calum and Ashton respectively, standing tall and ready to interfere should things got out of hand—Maeve wished they’d step in right away before things even had the chance of escalating.

Hesitantly, she took a few steps closer, the click of her heels drowned by the music that was still playing, bluish-green eyes widened in alarm as she heard the deep baritone of Calum’s lowered voice say to Ashton, “If you’ve got somethin’ to say, say it to my face. Didn’t seem to have a problem doin’ it last time.”

His tone was chillingly cool, standing toe to toe with her half-brother, and Maeve’s dry throat tightened when she saw Ashton’s hazel eyes twitch into narrowing, never once taking his gaze off of the man who was once his closest confidante. While Maeve wasn’t one to get scared easily, her chest still tightened at the sight in front of her; the angered expression on her brother’s face wasn’t one she was fond of—especially not in this intensity—nor did she enjoy the rigidness of Calum’s back as he clenched his hands on either side of them.

God, what had happened to the two of them? If she didn’t believe it before, then Maeve definitely did now that the reasons for the Big Fight were probably some that were strong enough to damage a friendship like it did this one. She could just never see Ashton and Calum fighting over something enough to get them to where they were now, and she found herself hating that this was where they now stood: angered and dark and ready to throw a punch in the face of a man that each once considered a brother.

Ashton’s mouth shifted, as if he was trying to keep his lips pressed together to keep back the snarl from escaping, and Maeve’s heart beat a bit too quickly to keep in time with the music playing as everyone watched on with bated breath. Like it was some damn TV show happening right in front of them. Ashton then lifted his chin, eyes never leaving Calum’s, as he finally gave a single shake of his head and a dismissive scoff. “Not worth my time.”

He was turning away, something Maeve hadn’t expected him to do, but her relief was short lived when Calum released an unsurprised and mocking gibe, “Hate to break it to you, but your time isn’t something to be fuckin’ worthy of. Just ‘cause you’ve got your own head stuck up your ass, doesn’t mean everyone else does, too.”

The air rushed out of Maeve’s lungs, only being given a second to exasperatedly wonder why Calum would push Ashton like that—especially with a couple of those words being similar to those uttered on the night of the Big Fight—before her brother’s body jerked forward—not to hit Calum, she could tell, but to get in his face. Still, it wasn’t something anyone was keen on happening, so Luke and one of their other friends stepped in to hold Ashton back, the sudden movement of his body bringing forth a clamor among everyone, exclamations released in hopes of stopping a fight before it got started.

Maeve had gasped, taking a step back, but instead of watching her brother being calmed down by his friends, Maeve’s eyes slid over to Calum, who still stood where he had been. He gave a shake of his head, as if he was over the whole thing already, absently telling Michael and his other friends that he was fine, it was all good, nothing to worry about.

Fuck, Maeve hadn’t even noticed Luke walking Ashton out of the bar, her gaze glued to Calum as he ran a hand down his face, rings glittering as his eyes met hers. Calum pursed his lips as Maeve’s buzzing phone in her hand went ignored, too busy watching Calum take in her alarmed reaction before he broke their gaze and looked away. As if he couldn’t stand to watch her look at him the way she was—dismayed and startled all in one.

Lina rushed over to her just as Maeve looked at the text she’d received from Ashton.

Luke and I are heading to Weehawken. I’m sorry for ruining your night, text me when you get home.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Maeve absently assured Lina as she texted Ashton back, pocketing her phone and looking up at her friend. Just as she did, her eyes went over Lina’s shoulder to catch sight of Calum stalking out of the bar, tall and looming over everyone else as he walked outside. She watched him go, moving with purpose, and Maeve’s eyebrows knitted together as she felt the impulse to follow after him.

Afterall, she needed to apologize.

What Calum had said to her at work the other day had stuck by Maeve, and it unsettled her. Sure, she had felt a sense of loyalty to her half-brother, but maybe just dropping Calum cold hadn’t been the best way to go about it. Like he had said, she could’ve given him some kind of heads up. Or. . . She could’ve just kept the friendship.

She knew that Luke still occasionally hung out with Calum, and knew Michael did the same with Ashton—even if those instances were exceedingly rare. It was kind of like Luke stayed with Ashton and Michael stuck with Calum during the divorce type situation, which made all of it sound more amusing than it ever was. So maybe Maeve could’ve kept the friendship she’d formed with Calum over the years. Ashton probably wouldn’t have liked it, Maeve may have felt some small semblance of guilt, but Calum had been her friend, too. And the way she just abandoned him. . . It wasn’t fair.

Leading Lina back to their small group of friends, Maeve quickly said to Audra, “Hey, keep an eye on her, huh?” to which her friend nodded as she put an arm around Lina before Maeve began making her way towards the exit.

It was kind of cold outside, the March air only getting chillier due to the body of water the restaurant was across from. The New York skyline glittered up ahead, the buildings in perfect view, but Maeve’s gaze was drawn to the spark of light to her left, releasing a silent breath as she watched Calum shove the lighter back in his pocket and grip the cigarette in his mouth between his two fingers. He was leaned against the brick wall, the light above the service door next to him glowing over him as he leaned his head back and released a cloud of grey smoke.

Maeve wasn’t entirely sure how to approach him, but as she began making her way over, she found herself lightly musing, “Looks like I owe you both my apology and Ashton’s.”

Not the best opener, but it’d have to do.

Calum opened his eyes, straightening his head as he watched her near him. The end of the cigarette glowed a bright ember before he pulled it out, exhaling the smoke through his nose as his expression remained professionally indifferent. How he internalized things, Maeve would never know. “If your brother wanted to apologize, he would’ve,” Calum replied throatily, free hand shoved into the pocket of his leather jacket. His left foot was propped against the wall behind him, bent at the knee. “What’re you apologizin’ for?”

Maeve pressed her tongue to the back of her bottom teeth as she looked at him. If she focused enough, she knew she’d be able to see the shadows of his eyelashes against his cheeks, but she also admired the way they hollowed when his lips wrapped around the cigarette. Calum looked so calm and collected, not at all like the man who was about to get into a fight just moments before.

Finding her voice, Maeve spoke up, “You were right ’bout what you said the other day.” She took a few steps closer, the distance between them minimal, as she absently played with her fingers. Calum watched her coolly, eyes never leaving her, as she added earnestly, “I shouldn’t have just dropped you the way I did. It was a shitty situation and I felt like I had to be on Ash’s side but—it wasn’t right and—and I’m sorry.”

She hoped he’d hear the genuine sincerity in her voice, would hear the apology she was trying to convey because she really did regret piling on more to an already awful situation. Maeve had a feeling that a friendship breakup hurt more than a relationship breakup, and while she hadn’t been as close to Calum as Ashton once was, the former had undergone two at the same time and Maeve resented that she had any part of it.

Another billow of smoke curled out of his lips, and Maeve stood silently under his gaze. The music from inside the bar, and from another one a few ways down, could still be heard along with the distant sounds of cars driving by. But otherwise it was silent between them and Maeve wrapped her arms around herself, the full sleeved fitted crop top not doing much to keep her warm in the chilly March night air. Still, she’d rather focus on the goosebumps raised because of the cold rather than the twist of her stomach in anticipation of how Calum would respond.

Eyes on her, Calum pushed against the wall, placing the cigarette in his mouth and surprising Maeve as he silently shrugged off his leather jacket. She watched his actions, tracking every movement, breath hitching when he stepped towards her, his looming figure taking up her personal space deliciously as she caught a whiff of the alluring woody and fresh cologne he wore. Her gaze lifted upwards, wanting it to be continuously locked with Calum’s darker ones, desperately wanting to figure out what exactly was swimming within his brown irises as he draped his jacket around her shoulders, the somewhat weighty material hanging off her frame.

Calum stood in front of her, so close that she could feel the warmth of his body sink into her skin, fingers itching to brush away the dark curls across his forehead as she peered up at him. She was embraced by the scent of him, only fueling her need for him, and Maeve was slowly starting to accept that it wasn’t something she could ignore. And, shit, it was a bad idea—a terrible one—but Calum’s figure towered over her and he was already beginning to overwhelm her senses, his presence only drawing her in like a magnet that could sense its other half.

Her gaze dangerously dropped to his lips, pink and full, as Calum responded raspily, “At least you own up to your mistakes.”

The near whisper of his voice sent a shiver down her spine, not having anything to do with the weather, and that familiar desirable twist of her stomach tightened considerably, nearly knocking the wind out of her lungs. If Calum was aware of the effect he so suddenly had on her, he expertly didn’t show it. To be able to hide his expressions so effortlessly. . . Maeve solemnly wondered just how much Calum had been hurt to be able to do so.

A regretful smile tilted Maeve’s lips, pressed together as she pulled the lapels of his jacket closer together. His scent clung to her readily as Maeve took a breath, light eyes meeting his darker ones as she spoke through a breathless tone, “If I could make it up to you. . .”

Something shifted in his eyes, alluring and magnetic, and for the first time Maeve saw something in his gaze that wasn’t hesitant wariness. She followed the motion of his tongue briefly poking out to wet his lower lip and the knots in the pit of Maeve’s stomach only tightened delightfully as his hummed, “I can think of a way.”

His right hand got rid of the cigarette, dropping it in the metal trash next to the restaurant before he cupped her face once he brushed the blonde strands away from her face. His touch sent a jolt through her body, inhaling a shaky breath through parted lips, unable to pull her blue eyes away from his brown, too lost in them to do anything but anticipate what she knew to be coming next.

Calum was close, so close, and Maeve’s heart was thundering in her chest quicker than the bass of the music playing in the bar, waiting, waiting, waiting for him to just close the gap between them. God, it was a bad idea, but Maeve was ready to throw caution to the wind, was ready to forget about the potential consequences of hooking up with the one guy her brother couldn’t stand. All she wanted to do was give in to the sensation of Calum’s body pulling hers in, give in to the unexpected need she found herself drowning in, that came like a slap to the face. The aftermath was meant to be thought about after.

She saw the mirth dance across his eyes, and suddenly Maeve was aware that Calum was waiting for her to make the next move both of them were aching for. So she let out a breath and with the help of the heels on her boots, tilted her chin up to close the distance, eyes shutting as soon as her lips met Calum’s.

They leaned into each other, Calum’s hand going from her cheek to the back of her head, fingers threading through the blonde strands to keep her close as their lips got to know one another in a slow yet eager dance. Maeve’s skin felt like it was on fire as Calum kissed her, tongue finding hers while she felt his free arm wrap around the exposed expanse of her waist under the jacket to pull her even closer.

Her own hands gripped the front of his shirt, sinking into him greedily as every single nerve in her body came to life by having him so close. Any thought not pertaining to this moment didn’t have a place in her mind; all Maeve could focus on was the feel of Calum’s fingers in her hair, arm keeping her close, and lips moving with hers. The music had drowned out and the chill of the night was replaced by the warmth Calum was providing, and she wanted more.

They parted, heavy breaths and pounding hearts with foreheads pressed together, and Maeve’s eyes remained closed because she already felt so dizzy as Calum quickly breathed out, “Wanna take you home.”

It would be embarrassing how badly she wanted that too, if she cared. Maeve shook her head, opening her eyes only to look at Calum’s lips; so kissed and pink. “Not an option,” she responded through a gentle gasp when she felt his fingers dig into her skin, cold rings only exciting her more. All she wanted to do was take Calum home, but that would be a risk given that Ashton had the habit of crashing there rather than his own apartment.

Calum let out a throaty chuckle, nose pressed against hers and lips only barely brushing across hers as he started, “Unless you wanna wait half an hour to get to my place—”

Oh, fuck no. No way was Maeve patient enough for that, and by the tight grip Calum had on her, she knew he wasn’t, either. “I’ve got an idea.”

Somehow, in their desperation for one another, both Calum and Maeve managed to escape their friends. She wasn’t sure, nor did she care, what Calum said to his buddies to excuse himself from the bar, but Maeve told Audra, “If anyone asks, I’m sleeping over your place,” in case Ashton ended up asking and while her friend eyed her questioningly, she agreed after Maeve promised to explain later. She didn’t care who knew, so long as it wasn’t Ashton or her parents or anyone who would run their mouth.

Soon enough, Maeve and Calum had left Ainsworth and walked down the streets of Hoboken, the destination Maeve had in mind not too far off—especially since everything in this small town was within walking distance. It was only a five minute walk, her heels clicking and his Doc Martens thudding against the pavement, and it was nice.

The city skyline was in continuous view as they went, and while the reason for them leaving the bar wasn’t lost on either of them, the anticipation and excitement still brewing, it didn’t stop the two from engaging in a conversation. Calum was quiet, that hadn’t changed in the past year Maeve hadn’t seen him, but he listened and he responded when it best fit. It didn’t feel awkward or forced; hell, it didn’t even feel like they were two people on their way to find a place to finish what they started. It felt good, and for the time being, Maeve tried not to dwell on the ominous thought of that not being the best thing.

Because this was someone her brother couldn’t stand to be in the same room as. This was someone who she already had a somewhat complicated history with. But it’d just be one night, right? One night of forgetting all of that and allowing herself to give into something that needed to be satiated. Maeve kept telling herself she’d never felt such an instant attraction to someone before, that it was about time she gave into her thoughts of finding Calum attractive for years now in this one night. That’s what she kept reassuring herself with, even though there was a mocking voice in the back of her mind telling her that she was betraying her brother—that there was no way this would only last one night.

Calum stopped, looking up at the pink and blue neon sign with its colors washing across his skin and dancing against his eyes. There were a few cars scattered around the parking lot, the lights in few of the rooms behind the curtains on and telling them they wouldn’t be the only occupants. Maeve saw the incredulous look he wore, head tilted up and a disbelieving scoff escaping him as he sounded, “You gotta be kidding me.” He turned his head to look down at Maeve, who was trying to suppress her own amused and somewhat sheepish smile as Calum raised an eyebrow at her. The smirk was threatening to tilt his lips. “A motel—really?”

She let out a laugh, shrugging her shoulders as she told him, “It’s the best we got,” through warming cheeks. Bringing Calum to a motel by the waterfront kind of made her feel like a two bit whore, which may be a harsh comparison, but frankly, she didn’t entirely care. Maybe it was desperate, but it was also the only place they had. It was either this, or take a train back into the city and either walk or take the subway to Calum’s apartment. Staying in New Jersey was safer—the Skyview Motel was safer.

When Calum looked at her, saw the way Maeve rolled her innocently smiling lips into her mouth and raised her eyebrows at him expectantly, he let out a huff of laughter and a shake of his head. Not so innocently, Maeve pulled the jacket closed by its lapels with one hand as she took a step back, the coyness slipping into her voice as she mused, “Hey, if you’re not up for it—”

He wasn’t about to let her go that easily. Calum’s hand reached out, grasping Maeve’s, and her grin widened as he started walking towards the small reception area with purposeful strides. “Come on.”

It was a quick check-in with Maeve sticking to Calum’s side and soaking in his warmth as he showed his I.D. and flashed his credit card, not even blinking at the $70 price for one night. Maeve offered to split it, but Calum merely gave her a look and she rolled her eyes; if he could afford living in the city without any roommates, he could afford a motel room by the water. And while the makeshift lobby was small, it was clean and not at all rundown, and it only gave Maeve hope that the room would portray the same kind of care.

The man behind the desk took a set of keys off a hook on the wall behind him, each key connected to a small ball as he handed it to Calum and said, “You’ll be in room 304.”

As soon as they received the key, it was like all bets were off.

They stumbled into the room, the impatience and desperation bubbling over, no slowness from their first kiss present, as the leather jacket dropped from around Maeve’s shoulders and right to the floor, Calum kicking the door shut while his lips never left Maeve’s. Heavy breaths could be heard and pounding hearts were felt within their chests as they moved towards the bed, so in sync as Maeve’s fingers expertly undid the front of Calum’s button down.

She got rid of his button down, fingers grabbing at the tank top he wore and roughly pushing it up, pulling it out from where it was tucked into his pants. Their kiss was interrupted only briefly so Calum could pull the black tank over his head, and Maeve breathed heavily as her eyes drank in the sight of his naked upper half. Calum’s tattoos were in her view, greedily taking him in, feeling the pit of her stomach tighten excitedly as she hooked a finger on the cool chain of his necklace and tugged him towards her once more, lips meeting in yet another bruising kiss.

They moved towards the bed together but before Calum pushed her onto the mattress, his fingers moved to the hem of her shirt, tugging her crop top up until it was off. She watched as his eyes drank her in, just as she had done so to him, and Maeve bit down on her lower lip as she felt his gaze burn into her skin. The action seemed to stir something in Calum, a low growl escaping him as his hands grabbed at the back of her thighs and lifted her up, and Maeve couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her as her ankles instinctively wrapped around Calum’s neck and lips met his once more. Fiery, impatient, needy.

Their next few movements were a blur. Clothes were torn off, thrown haphazardly around the room as they began losing themselves in one another. Maeve was pressed into the mattress, Calum’s body on top of hers, warm and lean and wonderful, as he kissed her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, keeping him close, loving the way his body fit between her legs.

He began moving lower, lips dragging away from hers as he kissed down her jaw and neck, lips burning her skin and scruff scratching her deliciously. Maeve closed her eyes, head tilted back and chest sinking as she released a heavy breath, her entire focus on the trail of electricity Calum’s lips were leaving in their wake as he kept moving. His lips wrapped around her right nipple, left hand paying attention to her other breast, her fingers still in his hair as he switched before he continued his downward path. He was getting closer and closer to where Maeve desperately needed him to be, the room filled with the sounds of her gentle gasps, transitioning into an appreciatie moan when Calum flattened his tongue against her core.

Calum wrapped his arms around her thighs, keeping her open for him as his fingers dug into her skin, working her entrance expertly with his lips and tongue. Maeve’s moans, every little sound that escaped her, only motivated Calum, reveling in the taste of her as his thumb circled her clit, sloppy and effective if the tightening of her grip on his hair was anything to go by. She sounded his name amongst a flurry of curses, pushing him into pushing her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Calum, Calum, Calum,” his name fell off her lips like a chant as she felt that familiar coil in the pit of her stomach, head tilted back and pressing into her pillow. Fuck, he found himself loving that sound, found himself wanting to hear her say his name in a breathless flurry of dizziness and pleasure over and over again.

Her release washed over her, and Calum sucked and licked her clean greedily as her body shuddered through the orgasm before lifting himself to hover over her once more. He licked his lips, grinning down at the breathless woman wickedly, and she tried to catch her breath as she looked up at him through hazy eyes. Curls a wild mess thanks to her hands, smirking lips begging to be kissed once more—which is exactly what she did as she pulled him down. “Do I get to return the favor?” she asked against his lips, nails scraping down his back that sent a shiver down Calum’s spine.

Fuck, Calum felt his cock twitch at the mere thought of her lips wrapped around him, but he had a feeling that if she did just that, he wouldn’t last long at all. “Next time,” he promised because, shit, there couldn’t not be a next time.

He grabbed the condom that was waiting on the bedside table, sitting back on his knees as he tore open the pack. His eyes met Maeve’s once he rolled it on, his own chest heaving as he looked down at her. Calum felt whatever air that was left in him rush out as he took in the sight of her; blonde hair like a halo and cheeks flushed and lips kissed, and Calum knew in that moment he’d never seen a sight more stunning. He committed it to his memory, heart thundering erratically in his chest because he couldn’t believe this was happening. She was so fucking gorgeous.

Calum hovered over her once more, holding himself up with his arms, suddenly his movements thoughtful and slow as opposed to the frenzied rush the two of them had been in before. His nose brushed against Maeve’s, the chain of his necklace dangling and his curls just barely brushing against her forehead, and his raspy voice asked, “Ready, sweetheart?”

Maeve answered him with a kiss, slow and savoring, and Calum swallowed her moan as he sank into her. He filled her, completely and deliciously, and Maeve’s nails dug into Calum’s shoulders as a way of telling him to move. Her heart was pounding, skin feeling as if it was on fire as Calum moved his hips at a dizzying pace until she grazed her teeth against his ear and begged, “Faster.”

He picked up his pace almost instantly, the sound of skin slapping against skin damn near echoing in the room, sinfully mixed with her moans and Calum’s grunts. The headboard could be heard hitting the wall with every movement, the bed creaking ever so slightly, but fuck it if either of them cared. Maeve’s nails scratched down his back, urging him on and on and on, both of them utterly lost in the way he slid in and out of her, groaning every time he buried himself in her.

Calum eventually moved his face to the crook of her neck, scruff scratching at her skin as Maeve tangled her fingers in the curls at the back of his head. She somehow managed to open her eyes, breathing labored as Calum brought her closer and closer to the edge once more. She stared up at the ceiling, biting down on her lower lip as she felt the cool chain of his necklace on her heated skin, his lips leaving sloppy yet welcomed kisses on her neck. This was such a bad idea. This was such a terrible idea.

But it felt too fucking good to stop, and Maeve knew Calum had ruined her. And she was okay with it.

Day 161

He was pulled out of his slumber by the mattress shifting beneath him, eyes remaining closed as he furrowed his eyebrows in a morning grump, burying his face into the pillow he rested upon. Calum could feel her shifting around to the right of him, a groan rumbling past his throat as he sleepily asked, “Wha’ time is it?”

“Nine,” came Maeve’s response, light and tired in her own right.

Calum moved to rest his cheek against the pillow, watching as she sat on the edge of the bed and was bending down, probably tying the laces of her Converse. The confused frown remained when he saw her already dressed, shoulder length hair tied into a haphazard bun with blonde strands sticking out. The motel room was already brightening due to the sun being up for a few hours now, the curtains on the windows not doing much to keep the light out since they hadn’t lowered the blinds the night before.

Cheek pressed on the pillow, Calum’s words came out sounding like a smushed drawl as he rasped, “I thought your shift wasn’t until eleven-thirty?”

Maeve straightened, looking down at Calum over her shoulder as she took in the sight in front of her she’d grown so used to during the past five months: dark curls messy from her fingers and sleep, brown eyes adorably sunken in and cheeks flushed—not to mention the several tattoos in view because he either slept in just his underwear or completely naked—the latter more often than not. And while the sight of a barely awake Calum practically glowing in whatever sunlight that seeped through the motel room window was one Maeve had grown familiar with, it still managed to catapult her heart into her throat and twist her stomach in knots only he was capable of loosening.

She shifted to sit sideways, one leg folded on the bed and body facing the headboard as she looked at Calum. “Yeah, but I’ve gotta head home and have breakfast before I get ready.”

Calum lifted his head, propping himself up with his right arm as a lazy smirk upturned his lips. The slyness shimmered in his dark eyes and coated his tone as he retorted, “We could have breakfast right now.”

 The cunning innuendo wasn’t lost on Maeve, Calum knew, by how she tried to stop the amused grin from spreading across her lips while shooting him a flat look. And though she tried to seem unimpressed, Calum could tell she didn’t think it was a half bad idea. Still, she leaned down, diminishing the gap between them until their noses just barely brushed together, and Calum’s eyes dropped to her lips as he yearned to taste the familiar strawberry chapstick he knew Maeve was wearing as she hummed teasingly, “You’re not slick.” And then she was sitting upright once more, much to his chagrin, and said, “I gotta go.”

The disappointment he felt wasn’t something Calum had learned to ignore, acknowledging its presence before trying to push it aside as he watched Maeve get up and grab her bag and anything else she needed. As they passed the five month mark of getting into this arrangement they had, Calum had yet to get used to watching her leave—the part that he hated most, because he completely went against the number one, albeit silent, rule.

He got fucking attached.

As Maeve walked to the door, Calum swallowed the tightness in his throat, an expert and pushing things aside, before calling out, “I’ll see you at Vick’s tonight.”

She stopped short, hand on the doorknob, and Calum’s eyes remained fixated on Maeve as she turned to look at him with a confused frown furrowing her perfectly done eyebrows. Even the puzzled pucker of her lips was adorable. “You’re going to Vick’s?”

He gave a nod, sitting up as the blanket pooled on his lap. He didn’t miss the way Maeve’s damn near translucent eyes took in his exposed chest, drinking him in the same primal way her lips had trailed across the expanse of his skin the night before. But instead of focusing on that, Calum’s attention was on the way she was looking at him—almost accusingly. “Yeah,” he responded, leaning back on one hand and pushing back the messy curls with the other. His tone remained even as he gave a single shrug. “She’s my friend, too; ’course I’m goin’ to her birthday.”

Calum could tell she was chewing on the inside of her cheek, a habit she had when she was thinking hard about something, her chest sinking as she let out a breath. “You didn’t tell me you were coming,” Maeve said, her tone light yet the resignment was ever present, and Calum didn’t like the fact that it was towards him. With a pointed raise of her eyebrows, she said, “You know Ash is gonna be there too, right?”

It was like she said it as a way of getting Calum to back out from going, and he would’ve laughed if it didn’t kind of irritate him. Calum wasn’t afraid of Ashton, far from it, and he didn’t give a shit if he was at the same party as him. He wanted to remind Maeve that it was her brother who had the temper issue, who instigated shit whenever the two of them happened to end up in the same place because while Calum minded his own business, Ashton didn’t seem to share the same sentiment.

Sometimes Calum thought Maeve didn’t get that—didn’t understand that it was Ashton who needed to be put on a damn leash. Because while Calum didn’t particularly enjoying seeing his former friend either, he wasn’t the one who demanded a fucking confrontation every time. He could actually control himself unless provoked. So why the fuck should Calum not go to a friend’s party just because Ashton was going to be there, too? Nah, fuck that.

But Calum kept his expression cool, lips pursing briefly as his eyes locked with Maeve’s when he said evenly, “Then I guess I’ll see you both there.”

She sighed, a heavy exhale through her nose as she looked towards the wall momentarily like she was already trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever may happen at the party. And for her sake, despite the mild irritation Calum felt, he still couldn’t help but hope that things didn’t go to shit.

Maeve gave a single nod, shooting him a brief smile that didn’t entirely reach her eyes as she said, “Yeah, guess you will,” before opening the door and leaving Calum naked and alone and a bit disappointed.

Not that it would be the first time.

“Alright, let me hear it—what’d Maeve do this time?”

Calum shot Michael an exasperated look, watching as his friend put away his AirPods and leaned back against the pillar. The two of them were at the train station, waiting for their Uber to take them to Vick’s car after just getting in from the city. Calum couldn’t seem to stand still, which of course told Michael that something was up because constantly shifting around was his thing.

“She didn’t do—” Calum cut himself off at the pointed look Michael was giving him, the look that told the brunette to not even try and bullshit his way out. Calum didn’t know why he even bothered to attempt to do so—he ended up telling Michael everything anyway. “I think she’s just bothered by me coming to Vick’s tonight. Because Ashton’s gonna be there.”

Michael’s face scrunched up, as if that was the most ridiculous thing he’s heard, and Calum was glad to see his best friend seemed to share his thoughts. “That’s dumb. Vick’s your friend and it’s not like you’re the one that tries looking for a fight. If Ash has an issue, that’s his problem. Not yours.”

“I know,” Calum huffed, scuffing the tip of his shoe as his eyes caught sight of a car pulling up in front of them. Double checking the license plate, Calum nodded, “That’s it.” He and Michael got in the back, greeting the driver, and once Calum settled he continued, “I get that she hates whenever Ashton and I get into it, and trust me—” he let out a huff of a dry laugh, “—I’ve got no problem keeping my distance from him, but why should I be the one to sit somethin’ out just because he can’t keep it together?”

“You shouldn’t,” Michael agreed, lifting off his hat and using his fingers to fix his blonde hair before he settled it back down as they drove down the streets, lamp posts they passed illuminating the car every few seconds. He sighed as he shifted, back against the door to look at Calum. “Listen, man, you knew this was gonna be kind of complicated when you got with her the first time. And then you started having feelings for her so now you’re just gonna be bothered whenever she seems like she’s only in it for the sex.” Michael gave a shake of his head, raising a dubious eyebrow. “You sure you thought this through?”

Calum pursed his lips, leaning his head back on the rest as his jaw tightened. Michael wasn’t wrong; Calum did have the tendency to grow aggravated whenever Maeve brushed off what they had as sex and nothing more. He wasn’t someone to force someone to have feelings, but there were so many times when it seemed as though she felt exactly how he did—he could see it in the way her light eyes glittered and how if she smiled big enough around him, it showed off the barest hints of dimples.

Sometimes he caught her looking at him when she didn’t think he knew; whether it was in the confines of their favorite motel room or if they decided to venture out in New York or, if they felt brave enough, in Hoboken. It’s not like they only hung out when either of them couldn’t stop thinking of the other’s lips or hands or bodies—they’d reclaimed their friendship that had been lost, got back to how they were and more, and Calum loved it. He loved spending time with her. He loved—

His teeth grinded together. Sometimes she tried so hard to make it seem as though she felt nowhere near as he did but—fuck, what if it really was all in his head? Hooking up with his former friend’s half-sister on a repeated occasion was a bad enough idea—actually falling for her was another level of stupid.

As soon as they walked into Vick and her fiancé’s house, Calum headed straight for the credenza where all the bottles were. He probably should’ve found the birthday girl to wish her first, but after making himself a gin and tonic once he saw all the ingredients out there for him, he easily found Vick and wished her before distracting himself by mingling with the people he knew.

The house was nearly full, people spilling out into the backyard as the music played through the speakers. Calum sipped at his drink, the alcohol running down smoothly as he stood near one corner of the living room talking to a few friends he’d went to high school with. And while he was having a good enough time, Calum couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes wander, looking around the familiar and few unfamiliar faces in hopes of catching sight of Maeve. He didn’t even know if she was here yet, and still Calum’s eyes kept searching.

It was pathetic.

His grip on the plastic cup tightened, though Calum was mindful of not completely crushing it as he began sipping it. As he listened to J.D. talk about recent Yankees game he’d gone to while a Post Malone song played throughout the house, Calum looked over the rim of his cup to see the woman he’d been searching for finally enter through the front door.

Everything seemed to melt away as Maeve came into view, a smile on her face as she walked in with Lina and Ashton, but Calum’s focus was only on her. He watched her smile widen as she was greeted by someone she knew, hugging the other girl before pulling away and brushing back locks of soft blonde hair Calum could practically feel his fingers running through. She wore a pair of black shorts and a tight yellow tank tucked in and all Calum wanted to do was feel her in his arms, run his hands across her body like he’d done so a hundred times before.

But, man, her smile. Bright and happy and reflective in her light eyes, a sight that rendered him breathless enough to nearly choke on the sip of his drink. How he let a single woman have such a profound amount of control over him without even trying, Calum had no idea. In five short months she managed to take over his head, his fucking heart, and Calum often wondered if he was just pathetic or stupid. Maybe both.

Because Calum had always been careful with who he fell for. When it came to Maeve, though. . . He had no control.

As if she could feel the weight of his gaze, Maeve glanced over to where Calum stood, his blue eyes finding his brown, and he watched as she shot him a quick friendly smile before following Ashton and Lina further into the house. And that was it. That’s all he got.

For most of the party, that’s all he fucking got.

Maeve stuck with Lina most of the night, but somehow she was always nearby Ashton, whether it be playing beer pong in the backyard or doing shots with them and Luke. Calum didn’t want to start anything—he knew if he so much as approached Maeve, Ashton would have something to say about it. And Calum wished he didn’t care so much, wished that it didn’t bother him that Maeve was pretending as if he didn’t exist and instead was enjoying the party with her best friend and half-brother. Not even a hi was thrown his way, nor a look spared and Calum only knew that because his eyes didn’t seem to be able to leave her.

“Fuck this,” Calum muttered to himself after downing three vodka shots a couple of friends dragged him over to partake in. He was only just starting to feel the alcohol running through his veins, head just barely beginning to feel light as he made himself a cranberry vodka. The drinks weren’t doing much to ease his discontent, maybe only serving to disgruntle him more. It probably wasn’t healthy for him to feel this way, to be so hung up on a woman not paying him the time of day, but he couldn’t entirely help it.

So when he was in the hall that led towards the backyard and the bathroom door opened to have Maeve step out, Calum couldn’t help but announce, “We need to talk.”

Maeve stopped, looking to the left before catching sight of him to her right, leaned back against the wall and nursing his nearly empty drink. People passed by every now and then, moving to different parts of the house, and this was the closest Calum and Maeve had been the entire night. She looked at him, eyebrows furrowing together in surprised confusion before letting out a breath, glancing down the hall before asking through a breathless and disbelieving laugh, “About what?”

Calum scoffed, tilting his head slightly. “Seriously?” Did she truly not see the way she was acting around him? Or was he just being overdramatic? “Can’t even spare a second to say hi?”

Yeah, he knew what he sounded like, knew he sounded dramatic and pathetic and was giving away too much of himself than he ever would. But the alcohol was warm and made it easy for Calum to run his mouth, whether he liked it or not, and when it came to Maeve, he had a bit of a hard time keeping things to himself.

A flash of guilt passed across her face at his words, lips parting as she started, “Calum—”

“The hell is going on here?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose in hopes of calming himself down, but the snappish tone Ashton announced himself in grated at the brunette, not even bothering to grace Ashton with an acknowledging look as he made his way towards them. Instead, Calum kept his gaze on Maeve, who’d pressed her lips together before looking at her brother and easing, “Nothing, Ash. We were just saying hi.”

Calum couldn’t help the derisive snort that escaped him at her words. That was exactly what they were getting into—Maeve not saying hi to him. Her bluish-green eyes snapped over to him at the sound and he could see the warning in them, the pleading to not make this escalate. He ground his teeth together; Calum never initiated anything, and despite the urge to tell Ashton to fuck right off, he kept quiet. For Maeve. Always for her.

“Great,” Ashton said flatly through gritted teeth. Calum could feel his gaze burning a hole on the side of his face, but he didn’t give the hazel eyed man the satisfaction of looking at him. Instead, Calum pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, looking down at his drink as he swirled it in the cup some more. “Come on, Maeve, let’s play another round of pong.”

Before Maeve could reply, Calum scoffed, head tilted back against the wall, feeling the bass of the music thud against him as Ashton’s words caused him to go against what he’d silently promised Maeve when he lazily drawled, “Relax, buddy, ’m not someone you have to rescue your sister from.”

He could feel Ashton take a few steps towards him without even having to look. “No one was fucking talking to you. And I’m not your buddy.”

This time Calum looked at him, took in the icy glare glowering Ashton’s features and the tightness of his jaw. He’d always been temperamental, always had trouble controlling his temper and back when they were friends, Calum had thought Ashton used to do a good job in maintaining it. Until he didn’t. With obvious raised eyebrows, Calum mockingly narrowed his eyes as he reminded almost bitterly, “Yeah, you made quite sure of that, didn’t you?”

Ashton probably took that as a challenge, hands fisting at his side and the irritation across his face only intensifying as he took the last few threatening steps towards him all the while growling, “Listen, you’re the o—”

“Hey, hey, stop,” Maeve demanded as she swiftly slipped her body between the two men. Ashton stopped advancing just as Calum pushed himself off the wall, both men halting to look down at the shorter woman. She had one hand on Ashton’s chest and the other was held behind her as a readying way of keeping Calum back, looking back and forth at them. Her hair moved as her head did, a thin strand of blonde hair getting caught in her pink lip gloss and all Calum wanted to do was tell Ashton to fuck off and move the piece of hair. But he didn’t.

Letting out a breath, Maeve gave a shake of her head before saying to Ashton in a somewhat soothing voice, “Calm down, alright? You’re getting worked up over nothing. Don’t ruin the night by getting into some dumb fight—let’s go play pong.”

They had to pass by Calum to go out to the backyard, and Maeve made it a point to push along Ashton first. Calum’s eyes met his hazel ones as he went, hard and still lacking the warmth of friendship as they had been for the past year. And still, the awareness of losing a man who had once been such a good friend hit Calum heard, painfully so, as he tightened his jaw to keep it locked inside. Fuck, how things had changed.

And then went Maeve, following after her half brother, gaze lifting to meet Calum’s as she walked by. He saw the tiredness in her light eyes, looking completely over the situation between him and Ashton, and Calum had half a mind to open his mouth and spew out some half assed apology.

But then Maeve shook her head once more, released a dismayed scoff and kept walking, not even uttering a word to him as she stepped outside with Ashton. Calum stared after her, eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly, lips parting as his own disappointment washed over him because it was Ashton who’d once again tried to start something, and it was Ashton who Maeve was seemingly siding with. Not for the first time, Calum had to watch her walk away, twisting his heart and knotting his stomach tensely.

Calum downed the rest of his drink, reveling in the burn of the alcohol as his chest sank.

Brother or not, it fucking hurt.

Day 164

He caught her just as she walked out of the cafe, approaching her as she rummaged through her bag for her car keys. Calum hadn’t really planned on confronting Maeve; he’d only just left Shake Shack across the street after having lunch with Michael when he saw her leaving the cafe, and before he knew it, Calum was crossing over to get to her before she got in the car.

“Maeve,” he called just as she got her keys out, prompting her to look up and squint against the sunlight, one hand going to her forehead to shield her eyes. Calum got to her quickly once a car passed, watching as she looked at him in surprise, not expecting his arrival, as he said, “We gotta talk about the other night.”

She dropped her hand from her forehead, the sun making her eyes appear translucent and beautiful—as always—as she let out a breath. Fisting her keys in one hand, Maeve ran the other through her wavy hair, pushing it back as her gaze dropped to the ground when she shook her head and said, “Look, Cal, I’m sorry about Ashton. He’s—”

“’M not here to talk about Ashton—I couldn’t give a fuck ’bout him.” Maeve looked up at him, at the slight edge that had creeped into Calum’s smooth voice. He hated speaking to Maeve this way, hated that it even came to this. But for someone who had always been good at internalizing, at never bothering others with his issues, Calum couldn’t seem to keep this to himself. Maeve brought out a different side of him, for better or worse, and it made Calum want to deal with his problems—especially if they concerned her. What he felt for her embraced him with an overwhelming force, a tight grip that refused to let up. He’d fallen for her so fast, so hard, so blindly, and every time Maeve did something that seemed like an insult to his feelings, Calum felt hurt. And he was growing tired of it. “’M here to talk ’bout you and how you acted like it was my fault your brother got in my face.”

“I—” Maeve stopped, gaping up at Calum despite the sun burning down into her eyes. He suppressed a huff, shifting ever so slightly to the side so his shadow washed over her figure, effectively shielding her from the light. Her eyes relaxed a bit, but the incredulity over Calum’s accusation remained. In a reminding tone, Maeve continued, “You were provoking him, Calum. You know you were.”

Calum’s lips parted to let out a scoff, having to look away in disbelief before saying to the blonde, “I said two things to him—”

“And they were enough to set him off!” Maeve pointed out, her exasperation already bubbling over. With a tired huff of a laugh, she added, “You know how easily pissed off he gets, Calum. It would’ve been better if you just ignored him. Or, you know,” she paused, looking away and licking her lips before her eyes met Calum’s once more, “maybe not approach me when you know he’s around.”

His jaw tightened, the heat of the sun only adding onto his frustration. Right arm propped against the top of her car, Calum said to her, “You ignored me all night, Maeve. I’m not gonna apologize for bein’ bothered by it. That’s not the first time you’ve made me feel like an idiot.”

She shot him a frustrated, helpless look of her own, but Calum didn’t miss the hurt that flashed across her eyes at his words. “I didn’t—I would never want you to feel that way, Calum, come on.” She frowned, shaking her head once. “ But you know that’s how it has to be, Cal, if Ash is around. For his sake, I can’t be seen being all friendly with the guy he hates.”

Her words sent a sharp pain through Calum’s chest, hitting him harder than he would’ve liked. Of course he knew Ashton hated him, his own feelings for his former friend weren’t too far off, but when he actually heard it, it felt a bit more crushing each time. And for Maeve to say it so carelessly, whether she meant to or not, twisted Calum’s heart fiercely. Except Calum wasn’t sure what hurt more; the surface meaning behind her words, or the underlying one that had more to do with Maeve and Calum than Ashton and Calum.

He scoffed, almost defeated as he raised his eyebrows at her. “So brother over me, huh? Again?”

It wasn’t a fair shot, he knew, and Calum was probably setting himself up for heartbreak by asking that because Ashton was, after all, her brother. She sided with him the first time when she stopped speaking to Calum—maybe sleeping with him wasn’t really going to change much.

Maeve’s expression fell, and Calum wondered if his words hurt her. He didn’t want them to, would never want her to hurt, especially because of him. But things were going to shit and maybe this was unrequited, after all. Maybe he really was an idiot. “Stop looking for a double meaning in everything I say, Calum,” Maeve said, her voice firm yet not holding any true anger. She sounded more resigned, tired—over it, once again. Over him? The thought was almost nauseating. “It’s not that simple. This situation is complicated and I just—I don’t know what you want from me.”

Calum’s chest felt tight, heart squeezed up into his throat as he looked down at her. The sun had brought our her freckles, peppering over the bridge of her nose and the tops of her cheeks. She always made sure to let them show whenever she did her makeup, once upon a time telling Calum they were her favorite feature of herself when he one day, in the midst of the motel room sheets, told her he was going to count them all. There were so many things during so many occasions he felt for her, with her; frustration, happiness, companionship, disappointment, contentment, love. And every time he thought she may feel the same way, doubt and reality had him second guessing himself.

Calum’s arm dropped from her car, the disappointment and hurt tasting bitter in his mouth as he watched Maeve’s expression fall when she noted the defeat on his face. Calum smiled, wry and humorless. “I don’t know, either.”

Day 168

It was funny how the second Maeve stepped into the motel room, she felt as though she could finally breathe. She shut the door behind her, hands trapped between it and her lower back as she took in the familiar interior of room 304. The light purple bed covers were perfectly made, somehow matching nicely with the greyish blue walls, and the curtains were parted and the blinds were up to let the late afternoon sun stream in, the view of the city across the water a sight worth seeing.

The sunlight provided the room with a soft glow and Maeve didn’t want to turn on the lights to take away from the beauty of it. This room, complete with a TV, bathroom, and mini kitchen area had become more than just a place for her to meet up with Calum for sex—it had become an escape. A safe space, almost. The two of them sometimes found themselves meeting up at the Skyview not to do anything but just hang out, because it was the one place where they definitely would remain hidden from Ashton or anyone else. And right now, Maeve needed this place.

September had just started, which meant Maeve was back at school attending classes for her graduate degree. There was already so much reading involved, so much to do, not to mention she had work on top of it all and she found herself stressing out too much too early into the semester. Honestly, it had all only just begun—how was she supposed to last the school year? On top of it all, she had to deal with aggravating, rude customers at work and Maeve just felt drained.

She’d made it a point to finish whatever pressing assignments she had, and as soon as she did, Maeve found herself leaving campus and driving right to the Skyview Motel, spending money unnecessarily on the motel room she didn’t really need. But finding comfort and relaxation in another place wasn’t likely, she knew, so it was a small price to pay to lay down in the middle of the bed with a sigh of relief escaping her. She hadn’t been to the room in a few days, and the basic yet familiar vanilla scent that clung to the room was comforting as she closed her eyes and breathed it in.

Maeve wasn’t entirely sure how long she laid like that, but eventually she had to open her eyes when a Snapchat notification rung out. Letting out a breath, Maeve picked up her phone, using the popsocket to hold it over her face as she blinked at the notice. It was from Calum—who she hadn’t spoken to for about four days now. And yet, she felt her heart jump at the sight of his name. She knew he was mad at her, knew that he wasn’t happy with her over how she’d treated him at Vick’s party, and Maeve did feel guilty about it. And confused. And frustrated. God, it was messy.

He’d sent her a typed message, and she opened to see it read, You brought a new dude over to Skyview? I’m hurt.

A wry smile tugged at her lips, practically hearing the sarcastic, joking tone in which she heard him speak in. For a moment, Maeve wondered how he knew where she was, before remembering her location on the app was available for him, and a select few others—Ashton not included. Quickly, she typed back, Of course not. It’s just me in my lonesome.

She dropped her phone on the mattress, getting up with a gentle groan to shimmy off her jeans and pull out a pair of comfortable shorts she’d been smart enough to put into her backpack. Her stomach grumbled and Maeve pursed her lips, cursing herself for not picking up some food on the way. Her phone rung out again, and Maeve opened Calum’s message that read, Want some company?

She blinked, slightly surprised. Maeve didn’t think he’d want to hang out with her after what happened, given that they hadn’t spoken to each other since the day outside of the cafe. He was in the city, she was pretty sure; he really wanted to come down to see her?

For a second, Maeve wondered if he only wanted to have sex, and then she wondered why she was worried about that. Wasn’t that the arrangement, what they agreed upon when they started this? She had no reason to feel. . . Bothered. But she was, and she knew why, and still pushed that aside because it was a bad fucking idea.

Chewing on her lower lip, she typed back, Only if you bring some food.

Around thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door, prompting Maeve to pause the episode of Peaky Blinders she was watching on her laptop since the motel room TV didn’t have a Netflix connection. She opened the door, feeling a smile tug at her lips at the sight of Calum standing with sunglasses covering his eyes in his favorite Sensation shirt tucked into his jeans, a to-go McDonalds bag in one hand and a cardboard tray of soda in the other.

“I come bearing gifts,” Calum greeted, smiling as Maeve stepped to the side to let him enter.

She let out a laugh, shutting the door as she teased, “My hero.”

He put down the food on the circular table in the small kitchen area, pulling out the Big Mac box for her and Filet-O-Fish for himself before taking out the fries. In a mutual silence, they moved over to the bed, bringing the napkins and food with them as they sat cross legged, side by side, and Maeve played the show as the two of them began digging into their food.

They did so in silence, the only sound uttering from the show, and Maeve wanted to believe all of it was a comforting one, that she couldn’t feel some of the tension that still existed between the two of them. But it was there, hanging over them like a dark cloud and weighing them down, and Maeve knew that it was her fault.

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I don’t know, either.”

Their words rang through her mind like a bitter reminder, making it hard to swallow the bite as she remembered the empty look she’d seen in Calum’s normally dark eyes—eyes she’d grown used to seeing so expressive. At least around her they were. But she’d shut him down, pushed him away—blamed him for something that wasn’t entirely, if at all, his fault and Maeve hated that she did that. She understood, in that moment, the stress she’d been feeling for school and work was also because of the silence she’d received from Calum, and it was no one’s fault but her own.

But, God, it got confusing. Sometimes she truly didn’t know what to do. Ashton was family and she’d stuck by him her entire life but that didn’t give her the excuse to be on his side when he was the one making things difficult. Maeve knew Calum only opened his mouth that day at the party because he was upset with her, because more often than not he never really provoked Ashton. He was an internalizer, he kept things to himself, and it had frustrated Maeve at first, when the two of them first got together. They’d had conversations about it until Calum learned to open up.

And now that he was, she was punishing him for it? She was getting upset that he was rightfully mad at her? She deserved it. After the way she blatantly and purposefully ignored him under the guise of keeping it all a secret from Ashton, Maeve deserved the silent treatment.

Still, Calum showed up, all the way from the city, with food nonetheless. It made her fall for him harder, faster, no matter the voice in the back of her head constantly reminding her how terrible of an idea that was. She didn’t even want to think of what Calum may possibly feel for her, if he did, since she couldn’t make sense of the mess going on in her own head and heart.

They finished their burgers in the continued silence, watching the show, her right knee pressed against his left as they remained cross legged, the denim of his jeans warm against her exposed knee. Calum shifted then, sitting back against the headboard as he let out a soft breath, eyes still on the laptop screen as Maeve debated with herself silently.

She glanced at him, dark curls handsomely messy and left arm raised to rest folded between his head and the headboard, tattoos in full glorious view against golden skin. He saw her admiring him, brown eyes meeting her blue, and before Calum could get a word in, Maeve blurted out, “I’m sorry.” He blinked, understandably surprised at her unexpected burst. Maeve worried her lower lip with her teeth, hunched over ever so slightly as she picked at her nails. Her back was still to him, only half facing him, as the show still played in the background. “I wasn’t being fair to you and—it’s just so complicated,” she said the last bit with a sigh, turning to face him a bit more as Calum listened to her, lips pressed together. “And I know I keep saying that and I know it doesn’t excuse it but I can’t give Ashton any reason to think that there’s more to you and I than he thinks—which is nothing—but still. Have to keep it that way.”

Calum’s throat worked, Adam’s apple bobbing as he brought his arm down only to cross both of them across his chest. The silver chain bracelet he wore rattled subtly at the movement, though they paid it no mind as Calum’s brown eyes kept locked with her lighter ones. “So, what, if we end up at the same place, we gotta pretend we don’t even know each other? That’s bullshit, Maeve. The issue is between me and Ashton, not me and you. How does that make sense?”

“How does any of this make sense, Calum?” Maeve retorted, a breathless and exasperated laugh escaping her as she fully turned, sitting on her knees to face him, the show long forgotten. “One day you two are friends and the next shit hits the fan and I have to be the loyal sister and stop being friends with you. It wasn’t fair and I hated that, and I’m sorry that I blindly followed whatever Ashton did. I am. But you have to know, at the end of the day, I don’t feel the same way he does.” The fight seemed to leave her, suddenly feeling nothing but helpless as she hoped Calum would see her honesty, would know that despite all the bullshit, despite her own stupid behavior, she still wants him in her life. In what capacity, even she wasn’t entirely sure yet.

Maeve rolled her lips into her mouth, licking them before she scooted closer to the brunette, watching Calum watch her as her hand reached out to grab one of his. He let her hold on, undoing his arms from where they were crossed, and Maeve reveled in the feel of his fingers interlocking with hers. It was those kinds of moments, where an innocent touch warmed her just as a greedy one would, when Maeve acknowledged that, yeah, it was more than sex between the two of them. She knew it. He knew it. And the only reason he stopped himself from truly saying anything was because he knew she was conflicted. Maeve wasn’t sure how long Calum would be willing to stick around for her indecisiveness, and she swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed that nauseating thought away as she squeezed his hand and offered him a sincere smile.

 “I don’t feel the same way Ashton does,” Maeve repeated, because she felt like she needed to, raising her eyebrows at Calum in hopes of understanding. “This is good, yeah? We’re good?”

Calum looked at her for a few seconds, eyes searching hers, and Maeve felt her heart pounding in anticipation until he smiled. Soft and gentle and warm, erupting the butterflies in her stomach as if she was a teenage girl with a crush. And still Calum was the only one to entice such a sensation in her. “Yeah,” he rasped, giving a nod. “We’re good.”

Flashback

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

Calum scoffed at Ashton, at the uncalled for rage simmering in his best friend’s voice as he glared him down. He could feel everyone around them staring, anticipating a fight even he could feel coming, waiting to see who would be the one to throw the first punch. Calum wished it wouldn’t escalate that far, but Ashton had been yelling at him for almost ten minutes, growing angrier by the minute and Calum himself wasn’t too far off from being pissed off. At the situation, at him, at all of it.

And he was over it. Enough was enough.

“I said you’re a shitty friend, Ash,” Calum repeated, strong and unapologetic, watching as his words caused Ashton to narrow his eyes threateningly. With a shrug, Calum added, “You have been for a couple of months now. I just didn’t say shit because you kept apologizing and I was enough of an idiot to believe you meant it. But you keep pullin’ the same shit over and over again so, yeah—you’re a shitty fuckin’ friend and it’s about time you got your head out of your ass to hear me say it.”

Yeah, he was pretty damn sick of it. Sick of Ashton ditching him, canceling on him, making plans with other people when he already had plans with him. He was sick of him trying to play the victim, to play innocent and apologizing and promising that he would try to be a better friend, only to go around and do it all over again. And it wasn’t like Calum hadn’t been patient, like he hadn’t given Ashton the benefit of the doubt because he was one of his closest friends. He didn’t care if Ashton went out to hang with his other friends—so long as he wasn’t kicking Calum to corner to do so. He deserved more respect than that—as a friend and as a human being.

And when Calum went off to hang out with other people? Of course that was a problem. Of course it would prompt Ashton to start talking shit about him behind his back, because that was the mature and appropriate reaction. Calum didn’t understand how things went badly for them so fast, how Ashton changed so quickly and started taking their friendship for granted, always being Calum would be there when he was bored. It wasn’t a friendship Calum had wanted to be a part of anymore—especially when he realized that it was only him that Ashton was doing this to. He was perfectly fine with everyone else. It was just their friendship that was rapidly sinking.

So Calum was done. He was over it. No matter how much it fucking hurt to lose his friend.

Though, the punch that Ashton delivered to his jaw was a close second.

Exclamations of surprise and protest sounded from around them, but Calum paid them no mind as he stumbled back from the unexpected hit, a sting of pain shooting up from his left jaw. He could feel someone’s arms catch him, keeping him upright, vaguely thinking it was Michael as he pressed a ginger hand to his jaw before his incredulous and deadly glare was directed at Ashton.

The dirty blonde stood where he had been, fist clenched and jaw set, completely ready for this to escalate. “Get off your fucking high horse—you’re not perfect, either.”

Calum pushed away from those behind him, hand dropping from his face as he slowly stalked towards Ashton. He could see and feel everyone watching him—Michael, Luke, Maeve, Lina—but Calum’s focus was on Ashton. The tension in the backyard of his house was palpable, Calum was sure everyone could feel it, and it weighed heavily upon them. “Never said I was,” Calum returned, the edge in his voice ever present, low and threatening as he shot Ashton a mocking smirk. “The only disillusioned one here is you.”

Ashton launched again, this time with a low growl that sounded vaguely like “motherfucker” to Calum’s ears, though he couldn’t be too sure given that he was dodging the next fist that flew his way, instead delivering an uppercut of his own. His knuckles connected with the bottom of Ashton’s chin, a heavy grunt escaping him as he stumbled back because of the hit, eyes squeezing shut automatically.

When Ashton recovered, he made a move to go after Calum again, but suddenly Luke was pulling him back and Calum was being yanked back by another pair of arms, glancing wildly over his shoulder to see Michael gripping him tightly, a hard look in his eyes. “Calm the fuck down,” he hissed in his ears, his hands on his shoulders firm and weighed.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Luke demanded, taller figure coming to step between the two fighting men, left hand against Ashton’s chest to keep him back. He glanced back and forth between them, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together in bewilderment. Things had escalated faster than anyone had anticipated.

“He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth fucking shut, man,” Ashton exclaimed, the anger ever present in his tone as he spoke to Luke, though his gaze was on Calum.

The brunette almost wanted to laugh at the irony of him saying that if it wasn’t for the pain in his jaw and hand. “And you don’t know how to be a decent fucking friend—you’re the one that started this shit, Ashton,” Calum retorted, speaking through the stinging pain of a bruised jaw, shaking Michael’s grip off of him once he showed him he wasn’t about to launch at Ashton again.

Ashton, in turn, slapped Luke’s hand away as he took a step forward, and Luke didn’t move as he watched him. “Yeah, and I’m gonna be the one to fucking end it, too. I’m done with you and your bullshit—get the fuck out of my house.”

Calum exhaled sharply through his nose, reality beginning to sink in as Ashton’s half-sister, Maeve, spoke up with an alarmed, “Ashton—”

He didn’t even look her way as he snapped, “Stay out of it, Maeve.” Tightening his jaw, Ashton took a few more steps towards Calum, everyone watching with bated breath and alarmed eyes as Ashton stopped in front of him. Calum saw the rage up close, the anger he knew his friend sometimes had trouble controlling, had never lost towards him until now. Ashton lowered his tone, dark and dangerous, as he repeated, “Get the fuck out.”

Calum wasn’t sure how his friendship with Ashton ended in less than ten minutes, but maybe that was it—maybe it hadn’t been ten minutes. Maybe it was months and months of them growing distant, of issues that just never got resolved that led to this. And it hurt Calum, more than his bruised jaw and knuckles, because he could tell this was it. There was no going back from this. His friendship with Ashton, in a few harsh words and rough punches, was over.

And it felt empty.  

Day 220

Something had gone wrong and it was eating away at Maeve. She thought they were good, that they were okay, but time and time again she was being proven wrong and as they neared the two month mark, she knew something had to be said or done. She’d let it go for a while, believed that he was busy with work because she knew she was busy with her own job as well as classes. Plus, it wasn’t ever like they saw each other every day, not with him living in the city and all. Maybe that was why Maeve, at first, didn’t think anything was wrong. She saw him if they were free, mostly at the motel and sometimes with her going into New York, and for the most part things were normal. They had been normal.

And it only had Maeve wondering when Calum had gotten good at keeping things from her.

She just didn’t understand where it went south; didn’t understand why suddenly his texts seemed clipped and he no longer wanted to meet up at their place—not just for sex but to hang out. Maeve had to hand it to Calum—he’d been smart about it. He’d come by every so often, but would make sure to sprinkle in some days where he had to reject her offer with some well thought out excuse, making it seem as though something really had come up and he genuinely wasn’t able to make it rather than not wanting to go in the first place.

For a while, Maeve told herself she was just making shit up, looking for something that wasn’t there. But something in her head—hell, even her chest and her damn gut—was telling her that things were off. That something was going on. And it didn’t help that she missed him—so much. She missed Calum’s presence once he really did start pulling away as of recently; she missed being able to talk to him, not just hold him or kiss him or feel him. They often spent hours talking, whether it was just something they wanted to do or when they were under the sheets, spent and satiated but still wanting each other’s company.

God, Maeve didn’t realize how much she craved being with him until she wasn’t.

She sat in her car in the parking deck of her campus, chewing on her lower lip as she looked down at her phone. A debate had been tossing around in her head, questioning whether or not she should send Calum a text, asking him to meet up. There was a genuine hesitation out of fear of him rejecting the offer, given that he’d been doing that for a while now, but this wasn’t a conversation Maeve wanted to have over the phone. And she wasn’t about to show up to his apartment in the city like some stalker. They needed to meet at their place. Their safe haven.

Taking a breath, Maeve unlocked her phone, quickly typing out, Hey, can we meet up, please? I need to talk to you about something—it’s important before hitting send and dropping her phone on the passenger seat with a squeal. She felt ridiculous, but she really thought the nerves would eat at her and prevent her from hitting send.

Maeve’s heart thudded as she waited for a response, fingers drumming on the bottom of the steering wheel as the music playing through her car did nothing to calm her down. The vehicle was still warming up, the early November cold already bitter, but Maeve knew her jittering had more to do with the anticipation of Calum’s response than the weather.

Her heart sank when five minutes passed without a response, throat drying as she tilted her head back and lips turned downwards in a defeated grimace. Though, before she could throw herself a pity party, Maeve’s phone let out a beep, and she scrambled to desperately grab it and let out a gasp of relief when she read Calum’s message of, Yeah, I’ll be there in forty.

Oh, he agreed. He was coming.

She knew she’d get there first, given than her campus was half an hour’s drive from the motel, and the entire time Maeve was acutely aware of her thundering heart. Worry twist and turned her stomach as she drove, swallowing her dry throat because she really didn’t know what she was walking into. Something was up with Calum and Maeve wanted to know, especially if she’d done something wrong, but she wasn’t entirely sure if she was ready to hear whatever it was. But she had to face the music. She missed Calum, and if she fucked up—again—she needed to fix it.  

Arriving at the motel, Maeve checked her phone to see if Calum had texted her while she was driving. She’d only just received a text, telling her he’d be there in ten minutes, and Maeve texted him back saying that she’d arrived and get the room.

It was a quick transaction at the reception, paying for the room for only two hours, making the price cheaper. But when she got to the door, room 304 for their taking, and inserted the key, Maeve blinked in surprise when she heard footsteps coming up the staircase a door away from her and Calum turned the corner. The door unlocked and Maeve opened it, shooting Calum an almost nervous smile as he returned it with a close mouthed one of his own while she greeted with a small, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Calum returned, coming to a stop next to her as his eyes flickered to the red door. “If you’d waited five minutes, I could’ve paid—”

“It’s fine,” Maeve quickly reassured, widening her smile a bit as she opened the door. She gestured towards the room, silently inviting him in as she entered the room, hearing Calum enter after her before shutting the door behind them. She played with her fingers, twisting at her rings, working up the courage to say what she wanted. His presence loomed behind her, waiting, and Maeve just needed to gather the words and—

“What’d you wanna talk about?”

Her train of thought screeched to a stop at his words, cutting right to the chase as Maeve licked her lips and turned to face him. He stood with his arms crossed and Maeve couldn’t help but note the defensive stance, as if he was protecting himself from something—her. It only reinvited the unease that loomed in the pit of her stomach, reminding Maeve of the reason why they were here in the first place. He’d been all but keeping his distance from her, slowly but surely, and Maeve needed to find out why.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she started, hoping her tone didn’t hint at the nerves she was trying to fight off. “Why? What’s the issue?”

Calum blinked, something flashing across his dark eyes, before he furrowed his eyebrows and tried to play off an innocent frown. “No, I haven’t.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped her. “Don’t bullshit me, Cal,” Maeve said with a shake of her head, crossing her own arms. She didn’t want to play anymore games. “Seriously, I thought—I thought things were good between us. So what changed?”

“Nothing changed, Maeve—that’s the issue.” She gaped at Calum, not entirely expecting the burst from him as he threw his arms down. Maeve took in the defeat that took over his face, the helplessness he spoke in. Calum was angry and tired of whatever was bothering him, and Maeve only looked at him in bewilderment as he let out a dry, humorless chuckle with pulling his lower lip into his mouth. His eyes took in the room they stood in before shrugging. “We’ve been doing this, for what, six months? And shit hasn’t changed at all. It’s just getting worse.”

Maeve’s heart dropped at his words, confusion and worry making for an uneasy combination as she looked at him with wide, distressed eyes. Six months—had they really been doing this for half a year? Sneaking around, meeting up in this room, losing themselves in each other? It had flown by, and Maeve was kind of surprised no one they didn’t want to know hadn’t found out about them. They’d been doing the same thing for six months but hadn’t that been the plan?

“I—what?” Maeve asked, shaking her head in hopes of understanding what he was saying. “What’s getting worse?”

Calum shook his head, pressing his lips together at her inquiry. But he looked at her, dark eyes boring into her bluish-green ones, taking in the questioning look she was shooting him, begging to know what he was on about. Maeve waited, silent with a quickening heart rate, hoping he would answer, tell her the truth. She was sick of the silent treatment he had been giving her; she just wanted things to be normal.

And then finally, Calum responded, tired and defeated yet completely behind his words. “The fact that I’m in love with you and you keep reminding me how bad of an idea that is.”

Maeve wasn’t sure what struck her more—the fact that Calum felt that way about her, or the fact that she already knew and he’d finally said it. God, Maeve would have to be blind to not know how Calum felt about her and, okay, maybe she wasn’t aware he was in love with her—but she knew he felt more for her than someone would a fuck buddy. Still, her heart pounded at his revelation, inhaling a sharp yet quiet breath because up until this moment, it had always been a silent understanding. Something had always existed between them, he knew it and so did she, but neither of them ever said anything. Neither of them acknowledged it.

And now Calum was looking at her in defeat, in exhaustion over this whole thing, and Maeve had a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to like where this was going.

“Calum—”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore, Maeve.” The words died in her throat, feeling it tighten as she looked at Calum with eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise. He stared right back, eyebrows pulled together as he forced out words she didn’t think he wanted to say, but had to. His words hung in the room heavily, settling like an unmovable weight upon her chest. He didn’t. . . Want to do this anymore. “I can’t do this, not with you. And ’m not gonna keep puttin’ myself in a situation that just. . . Doesn’t feel right anymore.”

It felt like a slap in the face, it really did, with the sting of his words springing tears into her eyes because he wanted to be done. Maeve reeled at his words, blinking as her arms slowly uncrossed in her state of surprised disbelief. It was falling apart, right in front of her; her relationship with Calum—this complicated, wonderful, dizzying relationship—was coming to an end and Maeve didn’t know how to stop it, no matter how desperately she wished to.

The way Calum was looking at her, lips pressed together and the muscle in his jaw ticking, eyes swimming with so much emotion that it was overwhelming for her—Maeve could tell he didn’t want to do this, but had to because it was something that was probably good for him. And she wanted to tell him that they could fix this, she wanted to tell him the words she knew would change everything, but would that just come off as her telling him what he wanted to hear? Would he see it as a manipulative tactic? Because even as Maeve thought about it, she could tell that it may come off as that.

Her anxious over thinking rendered her speechless, forcing her to keep the words she desperately wanted to say in her mouth, not letting them fall off the tip of her tongue where they rested. Maeve’s body felt hot with frustration, her heart hammering as her head screamed at her to say the words Calum needed to hear—that she needed to say.

But she didn’t. And Calum’s throat worked as he gave a shake of his head, disenchanted by her lack of response. “Right,” he breathed raspily, nodding to himself as he looked down at his feet, and Maeve’s features fell when she saw the way his own face scrunched up. Like he was willing himself not to let his own tears from falling. Maeve was quickly losing that battle, too. “I’ve gotta go.”

Calum didn’t wait for Maeve to respond, not looking up until he turned around and was heading towards the door. He didn’t stop, didn’t spare her another look as he opened the door and walked out.

He left, the room now smelling of its familiar vanilla mixed with the subtle scent of Calum’s cologne. It only made it easier for the tears to fall once he was gone.

Flashback

“Go to hell,” Maeve pouted, forcing herself not to toss the cards in Calum’s direction like a child, instead of slapping them down on the grass. The brunette merely snickered, satisfied with himself as he took the cards from her and put them in his small pile. “I didn’t show you this game for you to bankrupt me.”

Calum grinned, running his tongue across his lower lip as he looked down at his hand. “Monopoly takes no prisoners, sweetheart,” he hummed, brown eyes meeting her blue, unshielded as her sunglasses rested atop her head.

They were seated comfortably upon the grass in Bryant Park, the mid May weather making for a beautiful day to be out in the city. It was fairly busy at the park, understandably so, as someone seated a few feet away from them played music from their portable speaker, the sound mixing in with the hum of people talking amongst themselves as well as the traffic on the street in front of the park.

Maeve narrowed her eyes, leaning towards Calum as the cards not in their hands remained laid out between them. With her mock glare furrowing her brows, Maeve told him flatly, “You suck.”

Calum leaned forward as well, minimizing the distance between them, noses just barely brushing together as Maeve peered into his dark eyes, willing herself not to get lost in them. Two months since they started whatever this was and she knew she was losing that battle tremendously. A smirk tilted at Calum’s lips, boyish and lazy as he remarked arrogantly, “Isn’t that your job?”

Her jaw dropped, a startled laugh escaping her at his teasing words, only prompting Calum to laugh as well with mirth dancing in his dark eyes, cute crinkles at the corners. He wiggled his eyebrows, suggestive and not at all innocent, and Maeve shot him a mocking smile as she said, “You’re not funny.”

Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “I’m hilarious,” he replied, though he barely got the words out because Maeve shut him up by placing her free hand to the back of his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. Calum hummed against her lips, earnestly returning the kiss as she felt his own hand cup her cheek, rings cool against her skin and fingers brushing into her hair. He tasted like the gum he’d been chewing, fresh and minty, and Maeve couldn’t stop herself from leaning in, completely intoxicated by the feel of his soft lips as they moved with hers so perfectly.

“You know, not everyone’s comfortable with so much PDA.”

Maeve pulled away from Calum at the new, familiar voice, pulling her lower lip into her mouth as she sat up and looked to see Michael standing over them. He stood, arms crossed and an amused smirk dancing on his lips as he looked down at them, raising his eyebrows. Calum huffed as he looked up at his best friend, pressing his lips together as he tasted the strawberry chapstick he’d kissed off Maeve’s lips. “What’re you doing here, Mike?”

The green eyed man snickered. “Interrupting you two, apparently.”

Maeve breathed out a laugh of her own, shuffling her few cards in her hands. She wasn’t bothered with Michael catching them, even if it was in a place as busy as New York. Her and Calum had been running around for two months now, doing whatever the hell it is they were doing, and she was well aware that Michael knew of their little arrangement—just like Lina knew, given that they were their best friends. The two of them needed to gossip with someone about this deal they had with one another.

Continuing after brushing the fringe out of his eye from under his cap, Michael said, “Nah, I’m just hanging out with—”

“Maeve? Calum?”

She froze at the new voice, eyes widening when her gaze shifted from Michael to the man that appeared at his side, heart dropping to the pit of her stomach when Luke came into view. Her brother’s best friend. Maeve stared up at him, shock coursing through her because she didn’t think Luke and Michael still hung out. More than that—she wasn’t entirely sure if Luke was going to mention to Ashton that he’d caught her hanging out with the guy he couldn’t stand.

The blue eyed blonde looked down at the two of them, confusion written across his face as he looked between them, raised eyebrows showing just how unexpected the sight was for him as it was for Maeve. He was slowly chewing a mouthful of roasted peanuts, taking in the way Maeve was gaping up at him because she was too speechless to actually say something.

“You two, uh, friends now?” Luke questioned, gesturing between her and Calum with a single ring clad finger.

“Somethin’ like that,” Calum answered, not as shaken at the blonde’s presence as Maeve was. He leaned back on his hands, looking up the two guys with ease. With an effortless grin, he added, “Don’t let us stop your date.”

Maeve pressed her lips together as Michael smirked. “I was gonna say the same to you,” he hummed, nudging Luke with his elbow as a way of telling him they should go. Looking back at the two seated people, Michael added, “Have fun, you two. Remember to keep the PDA to a minimum.”

Calum scoffed with a roll of his eyes. “Fuck outta here.”

Michael laughed as he offered a wave, and Luke bid goodbye with a simple, “See you two around,” before following Michael away.

Maeve stared after them, after him, lips parted and still feeling startled at seeing Luke. She felt the urge to go after him, to make him promise not to mention this to Ashton at all, but Maeve felt rooted in her spot. Whatever she had going on with Calum was still fairly new, but it was good and fun, and the thought of it coming to an end because of her brother had her stomach twisting uneasily.

“Hey,” she heard Calum say, a finger poking at her knee as she forced herself to face him once more. He furrowed his eyebrows at her pale expression. “You okay?”

“Do you think Luke will say anything?” she asked, eyebrows drawing together in worry. “To Ash?”

The crease in Calum’s forehead smoothed out at her question, understanding her sudden concern. He looked over her shoulder in the direction the other two boys went, curls dancing across his forehead with the light breeze that blew by. Calum stayed silent in quiet consideration for a moment as Maeve chewed her lower lip in worry. “No, I don’t think so,” he answered finally, with a firm shake of his head. “I doubt he’s gonna wanna purposefully piss Ashton off. He’ll keep his mouth shut.”

Maeve let out a gentle scoff, raising her eyebrows. “You sound so sure.”

“It’ll be fine, doll,” Calum assured before sitting up, picking up his cards and grinning, “Come on, I was kicking your ass.”

It wasn’t until later that day when Maeve finally got home, around five in the afternoon, that the worry she’d felt earlier came back in full swing. She entered the house, freezing almost instantly when she took a few steps in when she caught sight of who was sitting on the couch with her brother.

Maeve stood, gaping at Ashton and Luke in silent surprise, though her gaze seemed to be glued to the blue eyed man. He stared right back, eyebrows raised, as if silently asking her if everything was okay. Her heart was thundering in her chest, mind swirling with frantic questions, wondering if he’d told Ashton, wondering if he was going to if he hadn’t already. But he merely stared back, innocent and big blue eyed, as if he wasn’t aware of what could possibly be Maeve’s biggest secret. Her stomach turned uneasily, throat dry, unsure of what to say and wondering if she should say something.

“Can you move? You’re blocking the TV, Maeve,” Ashton spoke up, gesturing to her in annoyance with the remote in her hand. He eyed her with a frown, looking at her in bewilderment until she quickly moved, offering a brief apology before heading up the stairs to where her room was.

She barely shut the door, left ajar, as she tossed her purse on the bed and ran her fingers through her short hair. The worry brewed in the pit of her stomach as she sat down on the edge of her bed, nibbling on her nails—not that she really could. No way was she ruining a fifty dollar manicure.

But, fuck, she was kind of on the verge of having a bit of a meltdown. Maybe that was overdramatic, but things were going so well for her and Calum. They were having fun, enjoying each other’s company—and bodies—while also getting reacquainted with one another, and Maeve didn’t want any of that to come to an end so soon. Because she knew, if Ashton were to find out. . . Man, saying he’d be pissed off would be the understatement of the century.  

Maeve wasn’t sure how long she was sitting in her panic, changed into a pair of comfortable clothes and keeping herself busy on the word search app on her phone—though being so distracted because of her anxiety over today didn’t allow her to beat her personal record. But eventually, there was a knock on her door and she looked up to see Luke pushing it open and peeking his head in.

Their eyes met, and Luke took a step in as a dimpled grin spread across his face when he commented, “You should’ve seen the look on your face. Priceless.”

She licked her lips, dropping her phone and shifting to sit on the edge of her bed, hands on either side of her and shoulders up to her ears, trying and failing to ground herself. “Can you blame me? You and I both know what you saw earlier.”

The smile from Luke’s face slipped as he leaned against the wall by the door, hands behind his back as he let out a breath. They grew silent for a minute, Luke scratching his right eyebrow before asking, “Are you gonna tell Ash?”

Maeve let out a humorless chuckle, raising her eyebrows. “So he can kill Calum? Fuck no.” Luke exhaled sharply through his nose, and Maeve bit the inside of her lower lip as she stood up, taking a few steps towards him. “I know Ashton is your best friend and I would never want you to lie to him but I just—I need you to keep this to yourself, Luke, please. He can’t find out.”

Luke looked at her for a moment, searching her eyes for something, before letting out another breath and rubbing his hands down his face. “Of all the guys, Maeve, it had to be Calum?” he questioned with his hands still covering his face, words muffled but understandable before he dropped his hands to his sides.

She offered a sheepish, almost apologetic smile with a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “The universe works in mysterious ways?”

He let out a laugh, still in a state of disbelief. “Fuck off,” he grinned before pushing himself off the wall. Running his fingers through his hair, Luke looked down at her, his large body towering over hers easily. “I’ll keep your dirty little secret. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Maeve scoffed lightly, relief washing over at his words. Knowing Luke was going to keep her secret, even from his best friend, eased many of Maeve’s worries. He was a good person and she hated that she was forcing him to keep something from Ashton, but she needed him to, and she was grateful. “So do I,” she breathed, smile widening as Luke pulled her in for a goodbye hug.

About fifteen minutes after Luke left, Maeve headed downstairs into the kitchen. Just as she grabbed a banana, Ashton entered the kitchen, stopping her when he asked, “What’s going on with you and Luke?”

Maeve shot him a frown, tilting her head slightly in confusion. His question caught her off guard, so did the way he asked it a bit too innocently, like there was some underlying motive. As she peeled the banana, Maeve gave a shake of her head and asked, “What do you mean?”

Gesturing towards the living room vaguely, Ashton said, “Well, you were acting weird earlier and then he actually went to your room to say bye.” His eyebrows twitched into a frown. “Something going on?”

Okay, Maeve was utterly bewildered. Her chewing of the banana slowed down as she stared at her half-brother, frown deepening as she choked out a laugh. What was he even talking about? She had an idea, she’d be dumb not to, but the fact that he was actually asking her if something was happening between her and Luke was kind of hilarious. “I—No, Ashton,” Maeve told him truthfully with a laugh. “I don’t—No, there’s nothing going on with me and Luke.” When he didn’t look entirely convinced, Maeve rolled her eyes, shoulders dropping. “What, do you think I have a crush on him? Because I don’t.”

He stared at her for a few more minutes, and Maeve widened her eyes pointedly, an incredulous smile still growing on her face because she’d been asking Luke to keep his mouth shut about her secret relationship/arrangement with Calum, and here Ashton was, thinking she had something going on with Luke.

“Okay, okay,” Ashton finally relented, letting out a sheepish chuckle. “Sorry, I just thought—anyway, uh, good.” He turned to walk out of the kitchen, stopping as he pointed at her with a finger, eyebrows raising as he added, “Stay away from my friends.”

She stared after him as he went, unable to entirely tell if he was joking or being serious. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her it was the latter, and suddenly Maeve’s appetite was gone.

Because if Ashton didn’t want her getting involved with his friends, God knows how he’d react if he found out she was getting involved with an ex-friend.

Day 243

He’d just left a bar, only allowing himself a few beers that he caught with a few guys from work, when his phone started vibrating incessantly. He was walking towards the subway as he pulled his phone out, stopping at a corner waiting to cross the street when he saw each text he received—about seven of them—were from Maeve. Calum’s eyebrows drew together as he read the messages, not one hundred percent coherent given the extra unnecessary letters and misspellings some of the words consisted of.

He rolled his lower lip into his mouth, biting down on it as he felt his chest constrict. He hadn’t seen her in, what, twenty days? More? Calum was, frankly, surprised he was able to keep his distance from her for that long, and he was also surprised that Maeve gave it to him, too, never calling or texting him. The disappointment that came with that was unjustified, given that it was he who told her he was done, but it was still present. And since that day at the motel where he finally told her how he felt, the weight hadn’t lifted from Calum’s shoulders. If anything, it felt heavier, pushing him down more and more. It was only a matter of time until he fell to his knees.

Calum had told her he loved her and then he walked away. He didn’t entirely blame Maeve for not reaching out, but he still found himself selfishly wishing that she did.

Fuck, he was never happy, was he?

No. He was. Despite the drama and the secrets, Calum had been happy when he was with Maeve. He could never lie about that.

Looking down at the texts, Calum’s jaw tightened when he saw that Maeve was begging for him to come to the motel, to their spot. From what he could make out, she was already there, waiting for him, alone and drunk, and the thought of her being there by herself was unsettling. Calum had half a mind to text Lina or Audra, asking one of the girls to check in on Maeve, but he knew he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he saw her with his own eyes.

People moved around him, crossing the street as he remained put, gaze lifting as he thoughtfully looked ahead of him. The buildings around him were glittered with lights, cars buzzing and honking as they drove past, and Calum debated if he should go. Debated if it was his place to check in on her. He wanted to keep his distance, that had been the plan, hadn’t it?

But, fuck, Calum would be lying if he said the past twenty-three days spent without any sort of contact from Maeve hadn’t been damn near agonizing. How the fuck had he lived his life before they ran into each other at the Bryant Park Grill?

So he texted her, promising to be there soon, and turned around to head to another subway down a few blocks that would take him to Penn Station. His mind was made up.

The half and hour journey seemed to drag on forever to the point where as soon as Calum reached Hoboken, he practically sprinted to the Skyview Motel. The air felt chilling in his lungs as he finally reached the motel, going up the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor and the familiar door of room 304. Calum let out a breath, heart drumming in his chest as he knocked on the door, chewing on the inside of his lower lip as he impatiently waited, hoping Maeve hadn’t passed out during his journey over.

Calum turned his ear towards the door as he heard footsteps on the other side, the relief rushing the air out of his lungs as the door swung open to reveal Maeve, barefoot yet dressed in fitted leather pants and a laced red bodysuit, clearly finished with a fun night out.

“Calum!” she greeted, cheery and drunk with flushed cheeks and lips that no longer were painted red but he could tell at one point in the night, they had been. “You’re here,” she added with a giddy grin, both hands grabbing his left wrist and tugging him into the warmth of the room.

He let her pull him in, eyebrows raising because, yeah, she was drunk as he shut the door behind them. Her purse and jacket was tossed on the table, shoes on the floor. Her blonde hair was a bit messy but her makeup was perfect, and even if it wasn’t Calum knew she would still be effortlessly beautiful. “Yeah, I am, sweetheart,” he told her, the term of endearment slipping past his lips before he could stop it.

It seemed, even in her drunken state, Maeve noticed as her grin widened, standing in front of him as her hands gripped the lapels of his bomber jacket. She looked up at him, bluish-green eyes glittering and freckles standing out against her flushed cheeks as she softly hummed, “I love when you call me that.”

He looked down at her, lips pressing together and throat working because all he could see in her eyes, past the drunken haze and sleepiness, was honesty. She was smiling up at him, still smelling of her familiar fruity and cocoa butter perfume and lotion that Calum often found himself getting dizzy on, and he felt his chest tighten. Maeve had the remarkable ability of so easily enticing emotions from him, emotions he’d tried so hard to push aside where she was concerned because he knew he’d only end up hurt—which he did. But saying no to Maeve. . . Calum had accepted it wasn’t something he was good at. No matter how hard he tried.

“I know,” he told her softly, unable to stop his hand from reaching up and using his finger to brush some blonde hair away from her face. “Come on, Maeve,” Calum added, arm wrapping around her waist as he started moving them towards the bed, “You should get some sleep.”

“No,” Maeve whined, pushing away from Calum and stumbling on her feet. He grabbed her elbow gently, making sure she didn’t fall, as he eyed her with a mixture of surprise and worry. She faced him once more, pouting as she pointed a finger at him lazily. “If I go to sleep, then you’ll leave,” she said, her words a tired and drunken drawl. “You left me here last time. You’ll leave.”

Calum’s throat dried, lips parting as he looked at the woman who was looking at him sadly, complete with a frown on her eyebrows and lips. Despite being drunk, Calum could tell that Maeve was genuinely hurt, that him leaving her the way he had that day had really been eating away at her. And it wasn’t like Calum was trying to give her a taste of her own medicine—never in a million years because he wasn’t an asshole. He would never hurt someone he cared about—someone he loved—intentionally. Calum thought he was giving them both what they needed. Now he was realizing, after understanding how the days since he left her fucking sucked more than he thought, that distance wasn’t the answer. He couldn’t stay away from her, not even if he tried, and it was obvious she hadn’t fared well either.

“I won’t leave, doll,” Calum assured her, stepping towards her as his hands found her cheeks. Her throat worked, looking up at him with big, glassy eyes and he felt his chest tighten even more. He hated himself for hurting her. “I’ll be right here with you, yeah? I’ll spend the night.”

Maeve looked up at him, eyes narrowed in drunken suspicion. “Promise?”

She spoke softly, hopefully, and if there was any ounce of doubt or fight in Calum, it left immediately with the look she was giving him. How had he ever thought he could stay away from her? The thought was almost laughable now.

Not the first time Calum had been stupid where Maeve was concerned.

His thumbs rubbed on her cheeks, nodding his head and offering a smile. “Promise,” he responded breathily, the smile she returned warming him up.

They took a few minutes to make sure to let Maeve’s parents know that she was staying at a friend’s, and then Calum took her to the bathroom where she could wash off her makeup, all the while moaning and complaining about not having her wipes and hating that she only had water and soap before drying herself off.

He then brought her to the bed, pushing back the comforter and helping her into her designated side. Maeve settled down, though she didn’t lie down as she bagan unbuttoning her pants. “Can’t sleep in these,” she mumbled sleepily, frowning down at the pants she struggled to unbutton.

Calum pressed his lips together, watching her fingers stumble over themselves and fail to complete their task. He let out a breath, crouching down to his knees and gently swatting her fingers away and bringing his own ring clad ones to swiftly unbutton her pants. Maeve giggled sleepily, “At least take me out to dinner first.”

He suppressed the amused huff of laughter, undoing her pants and shimmying them down her legs before folding them and placing the pants at the end of the bed. Calum took a look at the bodysuit she was wearing as he stood up, figuring it probably wasn’t the most comfortable thing to sleep in, and shrugged off his jacket. As Maeve pulled the comforter up to her hips, Calum asked, “Want my shirt?”

Her eyes met his, wide but tired, as she responded almost timidly, “Please.”

Well fuck, melt his heart, why didn’t she.

He took the shirt off, leaving him shirtless as he handed it to Maeve before walking around the bed towards his side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Calum felt the gentle shifting of the mattress as Maeve took off the bodysuit, and Calum stared at the wall in front of him. This wasn’t how he thought his night would go, sitting in the room that had become one of his favorite places over the months, with the woman that had honestly become one of his favorite people. He had no problem admitting that to himself, not when he’d already admitted his feelings to her.

Even when Calum had told Maeve that he couldn’t keep continuing whatever they were doing, he had a hard time believing his own words, which only presented more doubt of being able to follow through. And he should’ve known he wouldn’t be able to. Not when it came to her.

Calum felt a hand on his bare shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts as Maeve tugged him back, silently getting him to lie down. He looked at her as she shifted downwards, looking a lot more calm and sober than when he first arrived, though Calum figured sleep was washing over her quickly. Smiling gently, Calum toed off his shoes and socks and lifted the comforter to slide in, unable to stop himself from thinking how adorable she looked swimming in his shirt.

“Come here,” he mumbled, laying down and lifting his right arm, allowing Maeve to scoot closer until she was pressed against his side and her cheek was resting against his chest, and he lowered his arm around her to keep her close. The warmth of her body against his was comforting, familiar, and a feeling Calum never wanted to deprive himself of ever again.

He heard and felt her hum against him, eyes fluttering closed as her hand rested on his chest as well. The smile that tugged on Calum’s lips wasn’t one he could stop, taking in the sweep of her lashes and the freckles dotting her skin. “Thanks for coming, Cal,” Maeve mumbled sleepily, her breath warm against his skin.

Calum’s fingers gently brushed her hair away from her shoulder, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head as he murmured back, “Anythin’ for you, sweetheart.”

She hummed happily, sleepily, and Calum thought she would drift away right then and there. But then she spoke up one last time, sending shockwaves through Calum’s body that would keep him up for the rest of the night. “G’night, Cal. Love you.”

Yeah. He was definitely not getting any sleep.

Day 246

As she pulled into the line of the Starbucks drive through, waiting for her turn to order, Maeve pulled out her phone, busying herself while she waited. She fooled around one some of the apps, lips twisting to the side as nothing seemed to particularly interest her, her finger accidentally slipping when she was on Snapchat as it took her to the map. And then she saw Calum’s location, right in the spot that was theirs, and her eyebrows raised as she saw that he was there right now. The drive through line creeped forward as Maeve messaged him a familiar quip, What chick are you sneaking there?

His response was almost instant, Just waiting for you to get the hint. My location is loud & clear.

Maeve let out a breathy laugh, telling him she’d be there soon as it was her turn to order. She ordered her own drink before deciding to get Calum his usual order as well and being on her way. As she drove, Maeve could feel her stomach twisting and turning in familiar knots, reminding herself that today was the day. Today, she was going to try and let go of her worries and concerns, because the drunk version of herself already had.

It had been three days since Maeve, in drunken and sleepy stupor, had told Calum she loved him, and it had been two days since she remembered the fact. And when she had suddenly recalled that memory, vague as it may be, Maeve knew it had happened, and she wasn’t sure if she was mortified that the first time she told Calum she loved him was when she was drunk, or worried over the fact that he never brought it up. Had she thought it was just something she said while she was drunk, therefore not really meaning it? Or because he had moved on?

She swallowed the discomfort at that thought. She hoped to God that wasn’t it.

But Maeve was done. She was finished with the constant pushing aside of her feelings, and she was done with ignoring Calum’s feelings for her—if he still had them. She was done with them dancing on their toes around each other, never really uttering how they felt until it was too late. God, hadn’t they wasted enough time already?

“Hey, my personal UberEats is here,” Calum grinned upon opening the door and catching sight of Maeve and the drinks she held. He looked good, as always, in a ripped up shirt tucked into his pants and his favorite black Doc Martens. He made Maeve’s heart race so damn easily.

A scoff escaped her, handing him his as she entered the room. “Anyone who gets Starbucks delivered is pathetic,” Maeve responded factually before taking a long sip of her drink, as if the frappuccino was going to grant her some courage to say what she wanted to. And as soon as she put the drink down on the table, Maeve blurted out, “How come you never said anything about what I told you the other night?”

She turned around just as she said, looking at Calum who was mid sip of his iced latte, eyebrows raised at her in surprise. “Uh,” he sounded, releasing the straw as his dark brows furrowed. “You’re gonna have to be more specific, doll.”

“No, I don’t,” she responded with a shake of her head. Maeve saw it in his eyes, in the recognition that flashed across them, and for a brief moment she was relieved that she was able to read him once again, so easily. Was relieved that he allowed her to. She took a few steps towards him, arms crossed. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Cal. I doubt you forgot.”

Calum sighed, not even bothering to keep up the charade as he held the hand that held his drink out while he spoke. “Because you were drunk and half asleep, Maeve. I wasn’t—” he paused, exhaling through his nose as he pressed his lips together. His eyes met hers once more. “I guess I didn’t just wasn’t sure if you meant it or not.”

Her heart sank at that, and Maeve in that moment acknowledged that telling him that way was a complete idiot move on her part, even if she didn’t entirely have control over it. She looked at Calum, at the way he pressed his downward turned lips together, and her heart jumped into her throat. Maeve closed the distance between them, approaching the tall brunette as the closer she got to him, the higher her gaze lifted. Once she was in front of Calum, embraced by his familiar scent and cologne, she felt some of the tension in her muscles relax.

Lifting her hands, Maeve placed them on either side of his neck as Calum looked down at her, and she hoped he saw the honesty in her eyes and heard it in her voice when she said, “I hate that the first time I told you that was when I was drunk, but I mean it, Calum.” She saw his dark eyes looking back and forth between hers, could feel him holding his breath, and Maeve’s lips turned upwards in a smile she couldn’t contain. God, she could hear her heart thundering in her ears, but she knew Calum heard her loud and clear when she said, “I love you.”

It took him a few moments to process her words—words he wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting for her to say. But once Maeve uttered them, they flew around in Calum’s head, settled deep within his chest and sent electricity through his veins and he was fucking finished.

He had half the mind to reach behind him to put the latte down on the bedside table before his arms wrapped around Maeve’s waist and crushed her into him, lips finding hers immediately in a kiss that was so different than the ones they’d shared. This one held nothing back; it was full and open and honest, pouring every single emotion into it with a stunning force that rendered both of them utterly breathless.

Maeve’s hands went from Calum’s neck to the back of his head, wrapping her arms around him as his tongue slid against hers, his own arms embracing her in a way that made her feel so safe—safer than their little motel room.

What they had, had been messy at the start, and despite being open about their feelings, both Maeve and Calum knew things were just as complicated—if not more. Hiding a friends with benefits situation wasn’t too difficult, but with the silent and mutual agreement of wanting to be together, they knew eventually, they’d have to come clean. Eventually, her brother would need to find out that she was dating the guy he couldn’t stand. Eventually, shit was going to hit the fan.

But for now, they were pretty damn content.

Day 274

“Can—you—let me—go?” Maeve could barely get the words out between her laughter and the fact that Calum’s lips never seemed to want to leave hers, her hands applying some pressure on his shoulders as a feeble attempt to push him off. Calum’s arms remained winded around her waist, his back pressed against the brick wall as he kept kissing her, a crinkly eyed grin on his face that Maeve couldn’t get enough of. She lightly slapped his shoulders, trying to pull away. “Come on, Cal, I have to pee.”

“Fine, fine,” Calum relented, reluctantly dropping his arms from around her. He remained leaned against the wall, pouting as she stepped back from him with an amused grin. “I’m gonna go out back for a smoke.”

She voiced her acknowledgement before disappearing into the ladies room, and Calum then made his way down the hall towards the main area of the bar, but instead of going to where his friends were, he opened the door that led to the back alley smoking spot. The door shut behind him as he pulled out his packet of cigarettes and lighter, placing one between his lips as he lit it. It sent a spark of warmth through him in the chilly night, the alley in between two bars dark and justifiably smelly as he saw the occasional car drive by on the street a few feet ahead.

But Calum barely got to enjoy two puffs of the cigarette, because suddenly the door he’d just come through burst open, slamming against the wall and startling Calum—though not as much as the man that stormed through.

Ashton’s eyes, wild with anger even in the dark of the night, caught Calum’s surprised ones as his hands tightened into fists as he stormed over. His footsteps thudded heavily on the concrete, and Calum watched as the vein in Ashton’s neck threatened to burst as he all but yelled out, “Stay the fuck away from my sister!”

Oh, fu—

Calum couldn’t even finish that dumbfounded thought because Ashton’s fist unforgivingly collided with his jaw, knocking the cigarette right out of his hand as he stumbled right back into the brick wall with a groan. He’d felt the dull force of Ashton’s knuckles as well as the metallic hit of the rings he wore, and Calum’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to gather his bearings as quickly as he could.

It didn’t matter how Ashton found it. The point was, he knew, and Calum was in deep shit.

Ashton was right on him once again, fist connected with the same jaw, slamming Calum’s head into the wall as the brick scraped against his temple, and this time drawing blood as Calum tasted the copper on his tongue. “The fuck were you thinking, huh? Are you fucking stupid?”

For fuck’s sake. He blinked away the spots that were dancing in front of his eyes, the sudden burst of dizziness still present, but allowing Ashton to get two hits in was enough. Mustering up the energy and ignoring the thundering of his heart, Calum pushed Ashton away and delivered a punch of his own to keep him back for good measure, straightening as he spat the mouthful of blood. “I’m thinkin’ that your sister is a grown fuckin’ woman who can make her own decisions,” Calum snapped, his own anger letting loose as he took a somewhat shaky step forward, the sole of his shoes scraping against the ground. His head fucking hurt, and Calum knew that once the adrenaline wore off, it would probably be much worse. Calum could feel the blood trickling down his chin, could still taste it, as he all but taunted, “Who she fucks is none of your business.”

It was a poor, antagonizing choice of words, Calum was well aware, but he was fucking sick of it. Sick of the hiding, sick of sneaking around, all because Ashton had an issue with him. It was about damn time everyone got the fuck over it.

As expected, Ashton launched at him again, an angered, primal growl escaping him as he ran at Calum and crouched to push him against the wall by his stomach, slamming Calum against it once again. The brunette groaned as the bricks dug into his back, at Ashton’s vice like grip on him, but Calum lifted his right arm before jamming his elbow directly on Ashton’s upper back, which had him falling, only for Calum to swiftly bring his knee up and bury it harshly in Ashton’s chest.

He groaned, tumbling to the ground as the wind was knocked out of him, and Calum stood above, his breath uneven and quick. Looking down at him, Calum swallowed the tightness in his throat, the anger that was simmering. Fuck this. Calum moved to step around him, gingerly licking his lip and tasting the blood and wincing at the cut that was there. At least he hadn’t lost a tooth.

But just as he took another step, Ashton seemed to recover, grabbing Calum’s leg with a growl of, “Fucking son of a bitch,” and giving a harsh tug, sending Calum to the floor as he groaned when he landed on his front on the concrete. He struggled to get up, feeling Ashton’s hands force him to lay on his back as he got on top of him, and Calum caught sight of the rage in his darkened eyes. He was pissed off, beyond comprehension, and Calum couldn’t help but wonder how they’d come to this. Were they really so far into this, to the point of no return? Would there ever be any coming back from this?

Just before Ashton’s fist could descend, Calum vaguely heard the door slam open, followed by the sound of Maeve’s voice screaming, “Stop!”

And then Ashton was being pulled away, two pairs of arms grabbing him as he struggled against them, his weight no longer on top of Calum. He sat up, breathing labored, just as Maeve rushed to his side, crouching down with one hand wrapping around his arm and the other going around his waist to help him to his feet. For the moment, Calum ignored Ashton’s angry words to Luke and Michael about letting him the fuck go, instead choosing to look at Maeve, who’s light eyes were swimming with terror and concern as she eyed the blood on his face.

“Oh, my God, Calum—you’re—are you okay?” she asked, her voice breathy and rushed and thick with emotion. Her hand left his arm, gingerly touching his jaw as she looked at him, and Calum winced only when she drew her hand back and saw her skin stained with his blood.

Before he could say anything, though, Ashton’s hard voice cut through the air. “Get the fuck away from him, Maeve.”

If it didn’t hurt so damn much, the adrenaline quickly wearing off, Calum would clench his jaw at Ashton’s words. Instead, his eyes narrowed into a glare at the man who was already scowling at him, not entirely calmed down as Luke and Michael flanked him, ready to interfere once again if they had to. Maeve looked at her half-brother, her throat working. There was no blood on him, which she saw as a good sign, but it also angered her knowing that Calum was right next to her, bleeding.

“No, Ashton.” She gave a shake of her head, her arm around Calum’s waist tight as his arm laid around her shoulders. She couldn’t believe that this was how Ashton came to find out about her and Calum, couldn’t believe that she missed any opportunity to tell him in the past two months her and Calum had officially gotten together. Though, honestly, she wondered if his reaction would’ve been any different. “He’s my boyfriend, so no—I won’t get away from him.”

Her brother stared at her, her words widening his already angered eyes as he took a few steps towards them, Michael and Luke hastily following as Ashton snapped, “Your fucking what?” His eyes darted between the two of them, standing close with their arms around one another, before letting out a dry scoff. “Are you fucking serious? Maeve, what the hell—”

“Look, Ashton,” Maeve spoke up, finding her voice once again. She didn’t want to piss Ashton off anymore than he was, though she figured that was a little too late. But Maeve was done with all the hiding and being scared of him finding out—given that he knew now. It was out in the open, and seeing what Ashton did to Calum only gave her more of the strength to stand by her relationship. “I’m sorry you found out this way, but I’m not going to apologize for my relationship. Your issues with Calum have gone on long enough and it’s about time you either move on, or just get the hell over it.”

Ashton looked at her, the anger mixing with disbelief as he parted his lips. But Maeve stared right back, didn’t cower under his gaze as she kept Calum close. She felt him squeeze her shoulders encouragingly, saw Michael and Luke exchange knowing looks on either side of Ashton. A breathless scoff escaped Ashton as he subtly nodded to himself and raised an eyebrow. “You’re taking his side over mine?”

It always came down to sides, didn’t it?

Maeve looked at Calum, saw him already looking down at her with brown eyes that failed to hide his worry, the blood still trickling down his chin. She knew her answer as she looked back at Ashton. “Yeah. I am.”

Day 298

The house was filled with people, all Maeve’s closest friends and family, present for a brunch her parents threw for her twenty-fourth birthday. The early afternoon was filled with drinking mimosas, eating delicious food, and taking loads of pictures as Maeve enjoyed the company of her loved ones. Except that happiness dulled every so often when her eyes met those of her half-brother’s, hazel eyes void of any emotion save for what she achingly knew as betrayal. Maeve had a sinking feeling that Ashton was only present for her birthday because it was expected of him, because their parents told him to put aside whatever anger he had at Maeve and Calum’s relationship and to be there for his sister’s birthday.

The idea of him being forced to be here twisted at Maeve’s heart.

She was standing with Calum in the living room, the two of them chatting up with Maeve’s cousin Dawn when her eyes caught sight of Ashton heading up the stairs. Her eyebrows furrowed after him, biting the inside of her cheek before quickly looking at Calum and Dawn and saying, “I’ll be right back, guys.”

They nodded, Calum’s eyes meeting Maeve’s where she could see the silent concern. Calum was another target of Ashton’s anger, though what he was on the receiving end of a more violent type of rage. What she was getting was the silent, cold shoulder and dagger eyes that had her heart sinking in her chest each time. She hated that she upset him, but Maeve couldn’t be sorry for being with Calum. She had spent too long telling herself it was a bad idea when it wasn’t; how could it feel so good if it was?

After shooting Calum a reassuring smile, Maeve weaved through the people around her house and headed up the stairs quickly, hoping to catch Ashton before he locked himself in his old bedroom like a stubborn child.

“Ash,” she called, spotting him in the hall. He didn’t stop as he kept going, and Maeve let out a breath as she kept following him. “Come on, Ash, can we talk?”

“We’ve got nothing to talk about, Maeve,” Ashton said, turning to look at her blankly. “You’ve made your choice. Glad to know where I stand.”

She released an exhausted sigh, giving a desperate shake of her head. “Why does it have to be a choice in the first place? Why can’t you two just forgive and forget, huh? You got in a stupid fight for a stupid reason, Ashton—just let it go.”

Ashton tightened his jaw, lips pursed as he glared at her. “It’s not that simple.”

Maeve’s heart thudded. Was that some kind of hint he was willing to try at least? “It can be,” she told him, her tone turning soft as she took a few steps towards her half-brother. Offering a small smile, she said, “Something I learned over the past few months is that we just make shit harder for ourselves because we’re too stubborn to think it can be easy.” When Ashton scoffed, not entirely convinced, Maeve licked her lips and looked up at him with an apologetic, almost sad, expression. “I know I hurt you, Ash, and I’m so sorry for it. But asking me to be sorry for loving Calum would be like asking me to lock away a part of myself. And you had always been the one to tell me to never be afraid of being me.”

She saw some, not all, but some of the anger in his eyes melt away, face scrunching up in half hearted annoyance as he groaned, “Don’t use my words against me.”

Maeve braved another smile. “That’s another thing I’m not sorry for.” When he rolled his eyes, she grew serious once more. “You have every right to be mad, Ash, but doesn’t that get tiring? I know if you and Cal just talk it out, you’ll be able to get past this. You can’t tell me you don’t miss him.”

Ashton’s expression hardened a bit, tone warning as he started, “Maeve—”

“Please, Ashton,” she begged, hands grasping one of his. “You two are three of the most important men in my life, and since Dad doesn’t have any beef with Cal, I need you to at least consider what I said.”

He was silent for a few moments, looking down at her pleading eyes, until finally he let out a sigh with his gaze flickering to the ceiling and gave in with a muttered, “Fine.”

Whether he meant it or was just saying it to shut Maeve up, she wasn’t entirely sure, but for now, she took it. She grinned, happy for the moment, before pulling him in for a hug. Maeve relaxed when Ashton returned the hug, the relief flooding her because, God, she didn’t think he’d ever hug her again after all of this shit. And it felt good, to hug Ashton again after so many days of him giving her the complete silent treatment, of her feeling like she was going to lose her brother if she hadn’t already.

Things weren’t resolved, not by a long shot, but this was a start.

Day 304

“Hey, isn’t that. . .” Calum spoke up, eyebrows furrowing as they pulled into the parking lot of their favorite spot. Maeve followed his confused gaze, her eyebrows shooting up when she saw exactly what he was looking at. “Isn’t that Ashton’s car?”

It was. Maeve recognized the pick-up anywhere, exchanging a bewildered look with her boyfriend at the sight of the vehicle. What the hell was he doing here? Calum pulled into his usual parking spot and the two of them got out, hugging their jackets close to them in the cool November air as they both glanced around, trying to catch sight of her brother, though finding no sign of him anywhere. She looked at Calum, who was squinting in confusion before he shrugged at her, and the two of them headed towards the reception, though Maeve was still looking around for Ashton.

Calum quickly paid for the room—the receptionist, Ted, was on a first name basis with them at this point, and vice versa—and the two of them began making their way to their favorite room. “Seriously, though,” Maeve frowned as they headed up the first flight of stairs. “Why’s his car here? Where the hell is he?”

“Maybe he rented a room?” Calum guessed with a confused raise of his eyebrows, glancing back down at her given that he was a step ahead of her. He chuckled at the flat look Maeve shot him, before shrugging, “I don’t know, love.”

Maeve scrunched her face up as they continued, her curiosity not at all satisfied. When they got to the third floor, turning the corner, Maeve and Calum both stopped short when her questions were answered at the sight of her brother leaning against the wall right next to the door of their room. He stood, busy on his phone, only looking up when he heard their footsteps.

The two of them gaped at him, not expecting him in front of their room, as Ashton straightened and pocketed his phone. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and Maeve could tell just how awkward and uncomfortable he looked, and all of her questions, as well as new ones, came to the forefront of her mind. “Uh,” Maeve sounded, glancing at Calum who looked just as bewildered, but still eyed Ashton warily. “Hey, Ash. . . What—what’re you doing here?”

“Um,” Ashton licked his lips, letting out a breath. “Lina told me you two would be here and I, uh, was hoping we could talk.”

Maeve pressed her lips together, not sure if she should curse or thank Lina for giving up the information. Even down to the room number. “S-Sure,” she told him, glancing at Calum to see if he was okay with it. His bruises from their fight had faded, and even though a potentially healing conversation is what Maeve wanted between them, she wanted to make sure no more punches were thrown.

Calum nodded silently and the two of them approached the door, and Maeve shot Ashton a small smile as Calum unlocked the room and the three of them walked inside. She wasn’t oblivious to the tension that settled upon all of them, and Maeve silently prayed things didn’t escalate between them. Luke and Michael weren’t around this time to interfere.

Calum and Maeve dropped their bags on the bed, turning to face Ashton who probably felt as out of place as he looked, hands still in his jacket pockets as his eyes took in the room around them. Maeve wondered if he was thinking it wasn’t as sleezy as he perhaps pictured it while he was waiting for them. “So what’s up?” Maeve questioned, trying to keep her tone light.

“I thought about what you said,” Ashton responded slowly after taking a breath. “And you were right. . . I am tired of being mad. And I’m. . .” His eyes met Calum’s and Maeve felt her boyfriend stiffen slightly, though her eyes remained on her brother as he finally said, “I’m sorry for being the shittiest friend—person—on the fucking planet.”  

Maeve’s eyes widened because, shit, she didn’t think she’d ever hear Ashton say that to Calum. She was holding her breath, his words hanging in the air as both she and Calum tried to register them. She was having a hard time processing—she wondered how Calum was faring.

When neither she nor Calum said anything, Ashton let out a breath as he pulled out a hand and rubbed it down his face. “Everything that’s happened between us—it’s my fault, man, and it’s about time I accepted that,” Ashton continued, his gaze still on Calum. “There’s no excuse for how I treated you, and you deserve better than someone taking you and your friendship for granted. I’m gonna—I’m going to work on this temper issue I have, alright? And I know this apology is, like, almost two years and a few punches too late but I am sorry. Really.”

His words had Maeve’s chest tightening, a smile threatening to spread across her face as she looked at Ashton. He looked genuinely apologetic for his actions, for everything that had happened between him and Calum, and she could hear it in his voice, too. And the fact that he actually sought Calum out to tell him face to face spoke volumes.

Glancing up at Calum, Maeve saw his throat working, the muscle in his jaw prominent which told her he was clenching it. His gaze remained on Ashton, processing his words, and he finally spoke up once he did. “If you came to me a year ago, I would’ve told you to fuck off.” Maeve held her breath at the words Calum spoke in his raspy voice. Calum lifted his chin and Maeve saw the ghost of a smirk tilting at his lips. “But I’m not the same person I was a year ago—and I can only thank Maeve for that. And I know you were hurt when you found out about us. So I’ll forgive you for all that shit, if you forgive me for hurting you, too—even if we weren’t friends when I did.”

Maeve rolled her lips into her mouth, feeling her heart launch into her throat as she looked between the two men. She felt like such a girl, getting so emotional at what was happening in front of her, but that wasn’t such a bad thing. They were finally, finally, finally making up, making things right—Maeve figured she had the right to get a bit choked up.

Especially when Ashton’s eyes met hers, saw just how emotional she was getting, and a dimpled smile tugged at his lips before he let out a breathless laugh and nodded at Calum. “Deal.”

And then the two of them were walking towards each other and Maeve watched, with the smile finally splitting across her face, as Calum and Ashton clasped each other’s hands and embraced in that one armed dude hug, slapping each other’s backs with their free hands, but staying in that position for a moment. Maeve would’ve totally photographed the sight in front of her if it didn’t ruin the moment, so instead, she just watched with a grin on her face and tears stupidly gathering in her eyes. But she didn’t care. They were finally okay. Maybe it would take them a while to go back to how things were before the Big Fight, but it was finally in the past. It wouldn’t loom over their heads anymore like a dark cloud; they would be okay. They’d be friends.

The two of them pulled away, smiles on their faces that Maeve knew they hadn’t given each other in almost two years, and Ashton’s eyes met hers as he said, “Alright, I’m gonna leave you two to it.” He walked backwards towards the door, adding in a joking tone, “I feel like I’m stepping on holy ground.”

Maeve finally let out a snicker, raising her eyebrows at him. “You are.”

Calum pressed his lips together to keep down the laugh that threatened to escape when Ashton shot her a disgusted look. “Gross,” he commented before opening the door. “You know you guys don’t have to sneak here anymore, right? Stop wasting money.”

Maeve rolled her eyes. “Bye, Ash,” she said in a sing-song tone, shooing him away with her hand. He chuckled, offering one last wave before he left. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, Maeve turned to look at Calum. “He’s got a point though, you know. We don’t have to sneak around anymore.”

“I know,” Calum nodded, slowly sauntering over to where Maeve stood. “Which is why tonight’s our last night here.”

She raised her eyebrows, looking up at him once he stopped right in front of her. “It is?” she asked, narrowing her eyes when Calum nodded with a cute little mhm, something akin to mirth and delight dancing across his eyes. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “What’s so special about tonight?”

“Well,” Calum began, stretching the word out as he tilted his chin up, wrapping his arms around Maeve’s hips to pull her close before looking back down at her. His smile was soft across his face, a smile reserved especially for Maeve that always erupted butterflies in the pit of her stomach. She wrapped her own arms around him as she waited for him to continue. “Today, sweetheart, is the three hundred and fourth day since you and I ran into each other all those months ago in the Bryant Park Grill.”

Maeve blinked up at him, lips parting at the revelation. Her lips upturned into a grin, gentle and completely in love with him; 304. It was a silly little coincidence that related to the number of the very room they were standing in, the very room that had become their safe space to be with one another, but the fact that Calum actually counted the days since they saw each other for the first time at the restaurant had her heart bursting like she was in some damn cartoon. But she didn’t care; all she cared about was Calum.

“Three hundred and four, huh?” Maeve grinned, pressing her front against his as Calum mirrored her smile, looking just as entranced with her as she was with him. Sometimes she couldn’t believe they finally figured their shit out to be together. Maeve often wanted to punch herself for being so stubborn and not letting herself be with him sooner. “Is that our anniversary before our actual anniversary?”

“Yeah, why not?” Calum grinned, throwing her a quick wink. “Keeps things spicy.”

Maeve let out a laugh, which only widened Calum’s grin as she told him, “We rented a motel room every time we wanted to get together—that’s pretty spicy already.”

“You’re right,” Calum hummed, lowering his head to press his lips against Maeve’s. She instantly returned the kiss, leaning up into him as she stood on her toes, fingers tightening on the material of his jacket. His own hands shifted, going from her hips to her butt, digging into the pockets of her jeans and giving her a cheeky squeeze that had her grinning against his mouth. “I think the bed deserves one last round, don’t you?”

Maeve bit his lower lip, prompting him to tighten his grip on her as she coyly asked, “Just one?”

Calum groaned, shamelessly and completely crazy for her and the way she thought. “Fuck, I love you.”

She had no problem returning the sentiment during the next one, two, three rounds.

--

tags: @irwinkitten @glitterprincelu @softforcal @sweetcherrymike @valentinelrh @astroashtonio @meetashthere @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @dammitbands @flannelpunkcalum @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @spideyseavey @imfuckin10plybud @livibii123 @pastelpapermoons @malumharmonies @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @buggy-blogs @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysideblog @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles @aulxna @mermaiden004 @hoodskillerqueen @bitchinbabylon @empathycth @xhaileyreneex @inlovehoodx @calistheloml @aestheticrelated @bloodlinecal @sublimehood @madbomb @raabiac @britnicole11 @outofmylimitcal @fluffsshawn  

[nosferatyou]

If I Can Be So Bold: Chapter 4 (Jack White x OC)

Summary: A time line of Lee’s life after a certain event. Chock full of hardships, odd music choices, and the FBI watchlist. Overall an incredibly important chapter.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, cursing, frank iero

NOTES: Fuck. Its been a while hasnt it? schools a bitch. anyways i thought this was the best way to move the story along. Besides the early days werent really important. well it was, but it was th lead up. Still I think this is pretty damn good. Took me for fuckin ever. I hope you enjoy! 

I think I could’ve saved myself from more heartbreak if I just stopped fucking the man that was slowly breaking me, sparing me from the years of emptiness I just floated through. We could’ve only been friends and ended it at that, but I fell in love with him.

 It took me a year to realize id made the biggest mistake of my life. He was my mistake. I saw all this like I did relish every moment we had together, like every time he kissed me, I felt my chest grow warm. I never had a bad moment with him. When we fucked it was just me and him, which is so incredibly cheesy, but when you’re that intoxicated by the touch of another, its all you can think about. Nothing else existed. Bad breakups, a growing rift in old friends, the unpaid bills sitting on your counter. The truth. It genuinely was witchcraft on his end. I think the songs he wrote when we were together were actually just love spells. 

This went on for a year. I waited for him and meg when they went to the meeting that landed them their first studio album. Hell, I even taught him slide and played on their track “Suzy Lee.” Looking back at that moment always makes me laugh, the irony of it all, how I shielded myself from any truths. I think I realized I loved him when I opened my apartment door to see him with freshly cut hair. The sides shaved, the red just as wild as always but dyed a firetruck red. To this day, its the worst haircut I’ve ever seen someone get, and that day I died with laughter. He was always so confident in his looks, but that day he was in a panic. I had to console him and try to convince him it wasn’t that bad. 

“Rosie, it looks like someone glued fake fur to the top of my head.” 

The both of us sat cross-legged across from each other on the bed, trying to assess the damage. He couldn’t stop fidgeting. Fixing any loose hairs, which was the entirety of his hair. I scooted forward and played with it, trying to find any feasible angles.

“Jacky, it’s not that bad, it looks quite handsome from this angle.” I pretended to style it. There was no fixing it, but I could boost his ego to last until it grew back. 

He grabbed the hand mirror sitting next to him and tried every angle. Worry had found its way into 

every part of his face. 

“Mmm well, I guess it’s not as bad as I thought,” He couldn’t stop touching it. “Thanks, Rosie.” He smiled at me the same way he always did, lips pulled tight, making his face scrunch up with those warm eyes. 

I still looked at him and saw the most handsome man, even with that ridiculous haircut.

It never took much to convince him of something or to do something for that matter. If you put any liquid in his hand he’d drink it, I think I watched him drink hand sanitizer on a dare made by Ben. I never convinced him to go on a date with me, though. We always spent our time alone together, holed up in my room. Though back then, I always considered our late-night solo show adventures a good filler. He never noticed how happy they made me. That should’ve been a red flag, but they always just look like flags in rose-colored glasses. I seemed to be an expert at collecting red flags. I convinced myself for years that my time with my ex back in Nashville was normal.

Harriet pulled my head out of ass, though, and brought me here. To more red flags. It’s funny how completely opposite the two of them are. Jack and John (John and John if you want to get technical). John, at first, took me everywhere. He knew everyone and could get in anywhere. He showed me off and always made it clear who he was with. Once he had me fully wrapped around his finger, and we were living together, it switched. I wasn’t allowed to go out, not without his permission. I couldn’t talk to anyone except my bandmates, that was limited too. He held my playing shows above my head. If I was “good,” I could play under his supervision. I mean, he managed our band, he always knew our every move. It’s easy to misconstrue love, confuse what possession is. I was his pet, his thing to show off and shove in a closet until he needed me again. It took years to notice that it wasn’t okay.

 The beginning is always just so intoxicating.  

Jack just had this air to him, that same confidence as john. He knew he was talented and certainly knew he was good looking. The difference is Jack is humble. He could barely take a complaint from me, and as he grew, he didn’t know how to handle the attention. He didn’t lavish in it as John had, as short-lived as his attention was. Jack and I hid away, our confessions of our true feelings hiding on lyric sheets feet away from the other. That made my want stronger, I never felt I could have him, but we were so close it almost felt like I could have him. Its that moment, though, when you stare at each other with such love and warmth, faces growing so close you could feel their body heat. Your so close you can almost taste it, and that’s the moment he leaves. We didn’t cuddle. We weren’t affectionate. It was his choice. He left after tender moments, he left before breakfast, and he left before we finished the last verse of our song. We never were anything, and we never got anywhere. Me being me, it never was a thought in my mind. My judgment was clouded every time he looked at me with those eyes that pulled me in the first time. 

While we grew closer, nothing ever changed, he came over, we fucked, and then wrote together. Sharing the same Camel pack every time. I never thought he shared my feelings for him. He never showed it. He was as open as he was closed. He only let you see what he wanted. That was until me, and the girls were all hanging around during a White Stripes practice. Which was quite common. We all watched each other play, testers for anything new that we cooked up. Meg was weirdly good at knowing what riffs people would like. She always was smarter than any of us would ever be. 

That day Jack introduced a new song. It wasn’t entirely new to me. I taught him the parts, I always played the solos. He never quite got it back then. I was overjoyed to finally hear it. None of the girls were too focused on them. They always got stupid high. Jack and Meg’s landlord didn’t quite care if they smoked, not that ever did, though. It was a slower song, and a lot of work was put into it. Knowing him, the lyrics always had just as much care. 

He refused to meet my eyes. He didn’t look at me once. His eyes quickly flipping between the wall behind me and his guitar. It was very, obviously intentional. He was a storyteller, he always did it so carefully in songs, hiding the message. This seemed incredibly open. Too obvious. He was hesitant. It wasn’t until the “Chorus” (it could barely be called a chorus) that he started to get a bit more confident. It was apparent he had a lot to say.

Miss Suzy lee

The one I'm speaking of

The question is

Is she the one I love?

Is she the one I love?

That made my ears perk up, my eyes locked onto the floor. Why was I afraid to look at him?

Maybe I was thinking about it too much. My hope tends to get the best of me. Still, this pit in my stomach was growing with each note he played. 

She sent me flowers

The name of an incredibly sappy song I showed him

With her tears burned inside

Again it was embarrassingly open

And you know what I'd do?

I would run and hide.

I would run and hide.

 Fuck. I think my imagination and reality were clashing. I might actually have finally snapped and lost it. 

And the paper

On it was my name

Okay, I definitely did hide the unofficial nickname I made for him. I didn't use it often. I called him “Tree” when I was annoyed with him.

With the question

Do you feel the same?

Do you feel the same?

I knew. I knew he didn’t notice my intentions that day, though he should’ve won an oscar for his acting. He pretended like he didn’t notice. 

I think I’m going to legitimately throw up on their ratty couch. I’m going to throw up, and it’s his fault. Jesus, I’m overreacting to a song that’s probably not about me. Fuck I need this to be over so I can breathe. Maybe look up from this thrifted carpet. 

Again his words make my head snap up. This time I met his eyes. 

To end this tale

The one I'm speaking of

I wish I had an answer, but I just don't know

Is this really love?

I left the room as fast as possible after he said love. I didn’t think I could stomach it. Fuck. Shit. Jesus Christ, retribution may be in my future. 

Everything changed after that. I couldn’t look at him, I avoided him, the hope would kill me. It was killing me. I’ve always gotten too excited over people, too attached, and whenever this moment came, I spiraled. I had longed for his love for so long, and the idea of getting it overwhelmed me, being around him overwhelmed me. I avoided him, said I was busy every time he asked to hang out. I didn’t even bother to hide that I was making excuses. It took him a week to stop taking my bullshit. Jack was incredibly blunt. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. One night he knocked on our door, and someone other than me answered, and they sent him my way. I didn’t tell the girls my feelings. I was too afraid to say it out loud. I didn’t want to be in love again. I loathed it. I wanted to be the person who could be fuck buddies and be fine with it, but I fall too hard. Every fucking time. It’s inescapable. 

My dad always said I loved harder than others and should hold onto it, but it only hurt me. 

That night fucked everything up. He didn’t look at me. If he did, it wasn’t for long. For the first time, he looked cowardly. He stormed into my room. I could hear his very distinguishable and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart pounded into my throat with every footstep. He didn’t knock. He always knocked. His hair had grown out, it lost its curl, but it hung in his face just as it always did. He didn’t look smug. He didn’t have his bubble of confidence. He was meek. He was small. I remember his hands flying to his pockets. He did that when he was nervous. 

As I said before, he doesn’t beat around the bush. I wish he did that day. Spared my heartbreak for a few minutes. 

“Lee, I can’t love you.”

Those fucking words. They rang through my mind for years. Every time I saw him in the news, saw his face in magazines in passing at grocery stores. It felt like id been ripped in half, I was speechless, I physically could not form words. That feeling happened every once in a while when I reminded. Overtime I numbed to it. 

`He was married. Can you believe that? I was the mistress and with my best friend’s husband. The moment he pulled his hand out to scratch his face, I saw it. The wedding band that was never there before. I think he wore to mess with me, one last laugh. He knew this would be the end of us ever seeing each other, working together. 

He said he kept it off during shows for the brother-sister act, and just took it off before seeing me. Jack was never a coward, but it took him a year to tell him he was married. I hung out with them daily, I watched their dog when they toured, and I never noticed once. He was fucking married. The real kicker is that the girls knew too and didn’t tell me earlier. They let me live on with my sins. I felt so dirty. He just kept talking that day. He didn’t stop. Nervously rambled on, and he never did that. He was quiet. He opened his mouth to say something that’ll either make you cry laughing or make your heart swell. He was whip-smart and knew when to speak. I just let him go until he ran out of steam, tears quietly slipping down my cheeks. Still, stone-faced. The moment he stopped, I just silently showed him out and softly shut the door behind him. 

That night, I about committed arson, okay I didn’t, but I sure wanted to. At first, I cried. And cried,… and cried. It was a mess. Soon that turned to me having a small existential crisis and dumping everything on the cashier at the liquor store who definitely knew the others, and was incredibly uncomfortable. We went there a lot. As soon as the alcohol had been bought, it was gone. I spent the night binge drinking and wrecking everything in my room. I ripped up my journals for songs, I set a small fire to my sketches of him, and I very furiously tried to wash the smell of him out of my sheets. I also punched a hole in my wall, which I kept a secret until the girls moved out. The next day I switched to Marlboros, the smell of camels gives me that same gut punch. It was his brand. 

I said some not great things to the girls. I blamed them for my downfall for not telling me. I made them my excuse. I shortly left the band. We had tried to do a show, but I was so drunk I couldn’t remember most of the songs. I was also told I was lost my pants at some point.

 I moved out of the house and lost all ties to them. I cut all ties to jack. I couldn’t go home, though. I burned too many bridges with my family and friends, a bad habit I seemed to have. I still played shows.

The good thing to come out of my rage and fall into substance abuse was my music. I went through some phases. I was playing my standard stuff for a while, just with a bit more... Anger? Then some months later, in ‘99, the stripe’s first album came out. Of course, I fucking bought it. I kept all their records. I couldn’t let go for some reason. I listened to it on repeat. I was so outraged that it was good. I heard myself in their songs, saw my name in the liner notes, I heard myself in his lyrics. I was obsessed; it was great. For two years, I fought and scratched to get some kind of record deal. I got a two-album deal. I toured nonstop, played with some damn good musicians, though I never was happy.   

I lived a life of driving and playing. Most of the time, I had no fucking clue what state I was in. In New Jersey around 2003, I’d made some friends and played with them for a bit, fucking around in their basement. I lived there for a bit. I couldn’t stomach Detroit. I stayed consistently drunk from that night in ‘98 until 2004 when I received a friend’s call, showing me where I was headed.

 We talked through it, and both decided to get sober. We both were sick. They sparked something musical in me, though. I started to get heavier, I played punk, I put my aggression entirely into my music. I produced my own stuff then, scraping what I could together. I made that record and went back to Detroit. As painful as it was, I couldn’t go back to Nashville, so I was stuck here. I mostly just fucked around, still living pretty much like a hermit, making music in my basement. When the Elephant came out, I couldn’t avoid hearing The White Stripes. They were an international success. I still collected all their records and listened to them extensively. As time went on, my existence in his lyrics disappeared. As for him, it did for me, I’d given up. It was dumb to be upset over it all these years later, still, thinking of him hurt so much. I was restless. I was bored. I wanted to be back out on the road again. 

 While I was usually blackout drunk every day, I still loved it. Playing something new somewhere new every day. That’s when my friend frank from my New Jersey days called me up in ‘07 to join his new band. I think he was just as fed up and restless as I was. We played “hardcore punk.” though that's debatable. We were sick of shit and needed to yell about it. It was my last hurrah with my inner turmoil. We finished the album and got onto the FBI watchlist for a political song. 

I looked down at my phone to see I was getting a call from “Party Dad.” I knew what this is about. 

“Did- did they show up at your door too?” 

“Frank, you know they did.”

“Dude was fucking on the FBI’s list!” He was just as excited as I was.

“Hell fucking yeah, we are! You know we were still playing the song.”

“Oh, you know it. We will find a way around what they said. Plus fuck the government, that’s the whole point.”

“Two 30 something-year-olds on the FBI watchlist for a fucking song. This day could not get better.”

See here for the song

And toured. We toured for a while. Our last tour date was actually on my birthday in ‘08. In Nashville, no less. I didn’t tell my family, and surely didn’t expect them to be there. I never saw them, but I did see a familiar face. A significantly grown-up Ben Blackwell front and center. It caught me by surprise, that’s for sure, I slipped up a note or two upon seeing him. Though when we met up after, I was surprised how cool I stayed. I hadn’t seen anyone from my past in the years since. Ben has always been the sweet kid. I could never be mad. After that, we always stayed in touch, and whenever one of us was in Detroit or Nashville, we always met up. We recorded a couple tracks too. He’s always been a hell of a drummer. 

The band didn’t live long because of the others projects, but I always worked with Frankie when he asked. I even played drums for most of his last album. I got a call while trying to make a drumline for one of the tracks. It was my mom. I hadn’t spoken to her in 14 years. The last time we talked, we’d gotten into the screaming match to end all screaming matches over my focus and direction in life. She didn’t want me to move, she didn’t want me to pursue music, and she didn’t want me to leave John. She always worried I’d die an old maid. I hadn’t dated since Jack, so I can see her concern now. 

She dropped the bomb that my dad was sick. Of course, he was sick of all people. He was the most important man in my life. I hated being away from him. I could never bear to see him, and it turns out I’ve been wasting my time with him. All the tour stops, and I hadn’t seen him once. Guilt filled me. I felt the weight of it all. I felt the same tearing feeling, the same gut punch. I told frank everything, and him being him, he sent me off as quickly as possible to be with my family. 

My mom didn’t mention the fight. She just hugged me and sent me to my dad’s room. She couldn’t look at me, though.

 The moment I entered the house, I could hear Willie Nelson, a Red-headed stranger. It was always his favorite. My dad never showed his pain. He wanted to show us strength. It was heartbreaking to see him now in this state. I pushed it down. We talked for hours, and I told him everything, good and bad. He was always understanding. He knew my mind and reasoning better than I do. 

When Ben invited me to a Third Man event, I hesitated. We see each other frequently now that I’m back in town for who knows how long. He always invites me shows and record release parties. I always declined, even though my feelings have changed, I still can’t see jack. 

This time though, he said jack wouldn’t be there, something about his kids. Which took me by surprise, yet didn’t surprise me at all. So I agreed. To  my dislike. I love ben, but the thought of being in Jack’s business nauseates me.

 I watched the show from behind in the control room. Even though id heard it a million times, Ben did not hesitate to talk me through the live recording process. I was half paying attention, aimlessly looking at the crowd.

 Then I heard that laugh, the same from all those years ago. 

My heart leapt, panic-filled. I about pushed Ben over trying to get his attention. The footsteps. The heavy thuds came down the polished hallway. I nearly tore ben apart, trying to ask him if there was a bathroom.

 I was waiting for my breath. There were two entrances. Both blocked. I could either join the band on stage or run straight into the man I’m trying so hard to avoid. Ben looked so frazzled, trying to calm me down. I felt a shiver run through me, and I suddenly stopped. I was frozen, looking at the hallway. 

The bustle stopped, the footsteps stopped, all the people around him stopped in confusion. I locked eyes with him the moment he entered the room. No one dared move. Ben looked terrified next to, and the men around jack were whispering to themselves, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Then he spoke, almost like he didn’t believe I was in front of him.

“Rosie?”

[sweet-royalty]

Never Been in Love

Summary: Patton is alone at home and is enjoying this time dancing and filling himself with pride (Extremely self-indulgent but at this point all my fanfics are like this and I have no shame at all so yeah xP)

Genre: Songfic (Will Jay, Marina and the Diamonds and Moses Sumney)

Word Count: 3371 words (9 pages)

Pairings (All of them are heavily mentioned but they are not the focus of the story): Queerplatonic LAMP, Romantic Analogince and Romantic Dukeceit 

Content: Slight Angst w/ Comfort; Human!AU; Aro!Patton; Closeted Aromantic; Virgil, Roman and Logan are romantically dating and each one of them are Patton’s QPPs; Fluff; Just pure fluff despite many things; Sympathetic Deceit; Sympathetic Remus; Hoh!Deceit; Sign Names mentioned for 2 characters; Hoh experience written by someone who is not hoh (read as “please tell me if I’m doing something wrong”); Non White Sides;

Trigger Warning: Nudity (without sexual content or genitalia description), Snake mention, Amatonormativity (the characther is not actually arophobic, he just doesn’t know Patton is aromantic) (Tell me if I forgot to tag something)

Disclaimer: I couldn’t find a hand sign for “vitiligo” other than actually spelling it to make as Deceit’s sign name so his sign name in this story might not be so good. If you have any other suggestion for his sign name and explain how to sign it I’ll really appreciate it!

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

“Don't you want somebody to never let you go? Knowing someone's body better than your own Don't you want a family with a white picket fence? Tell me when's the wedding, the names of all your kids” Will Jay – Never Been in Love

Being alone at home was always one of the best things that could happen for Patton.

Not because he doesn’t like his family but because he enjoys the freedom of being alone. And this time, the house would be all his for the whole day. His parents were taking his brother to see if they could fix his hearing-aid or buy him another one. And after that they would take him for a sleepover at the twins house and go out to celebrate their marriage birthday. It was simply P E R F E C T.

Patton noticed his brother walking in the room and sitting on the sofa in front of him while their parents were going back and forth taking everything they need. He knew what that meant. That’s usually what they do when they want to talk privately. Patton paused his music player and left the cellphone behind.

- Sorry about your hearing aid, D - he signed with a sad face.

The last sign made him sulk

- I adore when you call me like this - he said rolling his eyes when pointing his index and middle finger to the side and touching his heart so Patt would know he was being sarcastic. He giggled.

- Ok, can you teach me the s-n-a-k-e sign again, please?

D made a two with his fingers, pointing to Patton, brought his hand to his chin then lowered it with a zig-zag movement like a snake moving. He repeated the movement but instead of a two he rised his index finger and touched the other ones together forming a “d” with his hand.

He gave him the thumbs up. D’s love for snakes made him really happy for being given this sign.

- Don’t worry about my hearing aid - he showed his broken aid, hand painted as a snake – I’ll paint a new one if we can’t fix it

- What are you doing with this one then?

He shrugged then placed his index and thumb together under his nose and slid it on his upper lip before crossing his fingers. “Mustache” followed by “R”.

The sign he gave to one of the twins.

- Remus asked if I can give it to him if we can’t fix. Maybe he wants to open it? I don’t know

Patton smiled and gave him a malicious face.

- You will be cuddling with your boyfriend!

- Remus is not my boyfriend! - he sulked while grunting.

Patton tried not giggling too loud, since D could still hear something from his right ear.

- Ok, he’s your crush. I hope you’ll have fun

He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything else to defend himself.

- You’re lucky you don’t have a crush. I’ll make your life a living hell when you do!

Patt snorted.

- Good luck

 “… with that” he meant.

 “I'm not missing someone that I've never met Maybe a little scared, still I don't care” Will Jay – Never Been in Love

Patton took some of his clothes off having just a baby blue long T-shirt covering his brown-skinned body, feeling the wind from the open window run through him. He spinned around the room and laid down to the sofa, grabbing his phone and scrolling to see if there were any new messages for him.

Roman (7:01 AM): Good morning~ Who is ready for today?

Virgil (7:02 AM): Ro, it’s 7 in the fucking morning

Virgil (7:02 AM): Lemme sleep

Roman (7:02 AM): I’m sorry, lil sunshine

Roman (7:03 AM): But if you actually were sleeping you wouldn’t be answering it!

Virgil (7:05 AM): Ooooor maybe I WAS sleeping but then a stupid bird sound woke me up!

Roman (7:05 AM): Not my fault if you sleep with your phone glued to your face!

Logan (7:05 AM): Can you stop bickering this early in the morning?

Logan (7:05 AM): We’ll be ready when the time comes, Roman. No need to rush.

Roman (7:07 AM): Oh my lovely nerd

Roman (7:07 AM): I meant to ask if you were excited

Roman (7:07 AM): Not if you were literally ready.

Roman (7:08 AM): The movie is only at 7 PM

Virgil (7:08 AM): I’m extremely excited, your highness

Virgil (7:09 AM): Now would you please stop texting here and let me sleep?

Roman (7:09 AM): As you wish, my love <3

Virgil (7:10 AM): -_- <3

Virgil (10:23 AM): Ok, now I’m up

Patton (10:30 AM): Good morning, my dears ^_^ <3

Patton (10:30 AM): Are you going to the movies today?

Virgil (10:33 AM): Sup, Patt

Virgil (10:35 AM): Yeah… I kinda won 3 movie tickets…

Virgil (10:35 AM): We’d call you but the movie isn’t really your type

Virgil (10:36 AM): I’m so sorry, Patt :( I didn’t mean to exclude you or anything…

Patton (10:36 AM): No no! I didn’t feel like this at all, love!

Patton (10:37 AM): Don’t worry! I’m happy that you’re goin out!

Patton (10:37 AM): Send me pictures of you once you meet, I wanna see your pretty faces <3 <3

Virgil (10:38 AM): Are you sure? :/

Roman (10:39 AM): Patt, you’re just as important as any of us. We don’t want to make you feel like a third wheel.

Logan (10:39 AM): Just because you’re not involved with us romantically that doesn’t make our platonic feelings for you less important.

Virgil (10:40 AM): Just tell us if something is bothering you, ok?

Roman (10:40 AM): Yes, if you want we can try to see each other earlier so even if you don’t go to the movie we can at least see each other

Logan (10:40 AM): Yes, we’d gladly do this for you

Patton’s smile got wider. He was being sincere when he said he wasn’t feeling excluded and he knew how genuine that invitation was because they all genuinely loved him as much as he did and in the same way he did.

As strong as everything he could feel.

They were the friends he never wanted to miss, they were the people he could always count for and know they’d do anything to help him just like he’d do anything for them and they didn’t need to be in love with each other for it.

Patton (10:43 AM): You’re amazing, loves <3 But really I’m not feeling like going anywhere today. D went out with our parents and I’ll be alone the whole day, I think I’ll spend this time with myself here at home ^_^ But I appreciate it, really. I love you so much ;u; <3

Roman (10:43 AM): Anything for you, my dear! Enjoy your day!

Virgil (10:43 AM): We love you, ok? We’ll make sure to include you next time.

Virgil (10:43 AM): Promise

Logan (10:44 AM): Tell us if you need something or change your mind

Patton (10:44 AM): I love you too <3 Don’t worry

Patton swiped the chat group off and searched for something to listen while baking some cookies

“I know exactly what I want and who I wanna be. I know exactly why I walk and talk like a machine I’m now becoming my own self-fulfilled prophecy” Marina and the Diamonds - Oh No!

Patton was mouthing the lyrics while scooping the cookie dough. His shoulders wiggling with the song’s catchy rhythm as he felt every beat controlling his body.

Patton didn’t really listen to Marina and the Diamonds so often but Roman successfully made him addicted to this song. Last time he came to sleepover they danced together the whole night and without noticing they were practically lip-synching this song, which was so amazing and powerful that Patton never left this rush go.

He turned the stove on, started the chronometer and just left the music flowing through his body

Patton twirled off the kitchen, the wind following his movements filling his legs with a chilling sensation that would only make his movements more and more powerful.

He was throwing his head back with his eyes closed, shaking it so hard that Patton could feel the curls of his hair touching his cheeks making him smile as bright as the sun.

That’s what he likes the most about being alone. As long as nobody could see he could be as cheerful, loud and expressive as he wants without any judgement. He could manage to make his entire body feel happiness and express it in it’s own way.

He could shake his as weird and as careless he wanted.

His thoughts were cut off by a loud ringing.

- Oops! Almost forgot my cookies!

 “Oh yeah I'm tired of falling Oh yeah For someone else's story 'Cause he gets the girl and I get ticket stubs I guess it's time to write my own personal version of love” Will Jay – Version of Love

Patton (6:34 PM): Hey, Dee! Are you already at Remus and Roman’s house?

DD (6:40 PM): Hey there. Yeah, we’re watching the Saw movie for the 4th time this year -_-

Patton (6:40 PM): Wow…

Patton (6:41 PM): Why you never tell him you don’t like this movie?

DD (6:42 PM): No one likes to hear him beaming about the deaths and all the gore stuff.

DD (6:42 PM): And it’s funny to hear him laughing when that woman tries to reach the keys and ends up trapped

Patton (6:44 PM): Awwwww

Patton (6:45 PM): It’s cute that you do that just to see him happy

DD (6:50 PM): -___-

DD (6:51 PM): If you wanna see it this way

DD (6:55 PM): At least the movie don’t make me feel uncomfortable so it’s more bearable

Patton (6:56 PM): Yup

DD (7:00 PM): Hey, Patton

Patton (7:01 PM): Yes?

DD (7:02 PM): I think I’ll try to tell him tonight

Patton (7:05 PM): Tell what?

DD (7:02 PM): Don’t worry, I’m hidden in the bathroom. He’s not seeing our messages.

Patton (7:03 PM): Oh, ok!

Patton (7:04 PM): Well, good luck! ^^ I’m pretty sure things will turn out fine

DD (7:05 PM): I’m not worried about it

Patton (7:05 PM): Pfff

Patton (7:05 PM): Sure ;)

DD (7:06 PM): urgh

DD (7:07 PM): You should tell Roman too

Patton sighed. There we go again.

Patton (7:07 PM): D, I told you before. I’m not in love with Roman…

Patton (7:08 PM): He is my best friend, just like Logan and Virgil.

DD (7:08 PM): Well, I never said you were not in love with them TOO

DD (7:09 PM): Look

DD (7:10 PM): I know talking to mom and dad will be hard

DD (7:11 PM): It is hard for me too

DD (7:11 PM): But you don’t have to talk to them if you don’t want to

DD (7:12 PM): None of us have

DD (7:13 PM): I’ve always hid my relationships very well, and you know that

DD (7:13 PM): I can help you so they won't find anything out too

DD (7:14 PM): Or… Idk, protect you if they react badly about it

DD (7:14 PM): Just know that I’m on your side, ok?

DD (7:14 PM): I’ll never judge you for being who you really are

DD (7:14 PM): And polyamorous relationships usually go great

Patton didn’t know how to answer. It wasn’t the first time they talked about it.

No matter how many times Patton would say he’s not interested in anyone, D would try to say that he’s in love with Roman or one of his boyfriends.

Or act like he will be in love with someone someday.

But Patton highly doubted that and was pretty fine with it

Patton (7:15 PM): I know, D

Patton (7:15 PM): I love you

DD (7:16 PM): I need to go back now, I’ll talk to you tomorrow

Patton (7:16 PM): Good luck!

He never told his brother about being aromantic and all this talk actually makes him less inclined to do so. He knew he means well despite everything, so Patton never felt like yelling or fighting with him for insisting on it.

But at the same time…

He was so DONE.

It was already difficult for him to find out who he really is.

It was already a huge pain to see that the fact that he doesn’t feel OK with the idea of being romantically attached to someone. That this whole thing actually makes him feel sadder, empty and chained just by the simple thought of it because “that’s what everyone needs to feel”.

It was already difficult for him to see how he can explain his relationship with Logan, Virgil and Roman.

Yes, they were made for each other.

No, he never wants them to go away.

Yes, he loves them A LOT.

But his love was not romantic.

His 3 partners were dating each other romantically but they all see Patton as someone just as important in their lives, even if they don’t see him as a boyfriend.

When they found out about Queerplatonic Relationships it was like big realization and a good way to include Patton in their lives that was not just a simply “he’s my best friend”.

And that makes him so happy, special and wanted he didn’t need or wished anything else.

But it was almost like the whole world was revolved in romance and that was the only way for anyone to find happiness. Like not having a romantic partner meant you’d be “alone forever” as if that was the worst thing ever.

Patton was not alone.

Patton was not unhappy.

Patton was not repressing feelings anymore.

Patton was free. Patton was Patton.

And that was everything he needed.

Why wouldn’t anyone get this? Why was everyone so fixated on it? Why-

- No! – Patton murmured before eating one last cookie and getting up from the sofa and turning his TV off – I’m not letting this ruin my day. I’m gonna take a shower.

“Am I vital If my heart is idle? Am I doomed? … If lovelessness is godlessness Will you cast me to the wayside?” Moses Sumney - Doomed

Ok, maybe choosing this album to listen while taking a shower wasn’t a very uplifting choice. Not that his songs are bad. But they were not the type of songs for you to feel good, it’s more like a song to give you a relatable feeling. Something might make you say “yes, that’s what happens to me".

But the shower did gave him some good, since the cold water mixed with Moses’s voice echoing through the walls were relaxing and almost swooning, like meditating. Logan taught him how to fixate his thoughts in one single thing until he could slowly focus on the sensations of his surroundings and Patton particularly enjoyed doing this in the shower.

Patton threw his naked body in the bed and turned to see his own reflection in the mirror close to it.

He stared at his freckles, covering his entire brown body, and smiled as he remembered how Virgil made a small comment about how much he likes it because as a child he used to look at people with freckles and try to form constellations with them and it was like they have a little piece of the sky with them. That was the best “non-intentionally” cute comment he ever made.

He sat on the side of his bed and stared the mirror, giving more attention to his own details. He looked through his whole “galaxy body” passing some of his fingers through them, mentally picturing the whole sky moving around it. He never knew why but sometimes imagining things like this made him feel so good and at least for a second forget about everything else.

- Let’s see this galaxy dance.

He picked up his phone, chose the first song that came with shuffle mode and got up.

“You're vulnerable, you're vulnerable You are not a robot You're lovable, so lovable But you're just troubled” Marina and the Diamonds – I Am Not a Robot

This time he danced slowly and with his eyes closed.

His arms embracing his body and his movements had no shape or choreography.

It was just free and random.

Patton’s hands were running through his arms gently, like a self-cuddle, having this short moment to love himself.

He was moving his shoulders inclined his head behind and instead of just mouthing the lyrics, Patton allowed himself to actually sing.

He definitely was not.

He was a human being.

A lovely human being.

“It's okay to say you've got a weak spot You don't always have to be on top Better to be hated Than loved loved loved for what your not”

Later that night, now completely undercovers and almost ready to sleep, he received a photo from the chat group of Roman, Virgil and Logan in the cafeteria after watching their movie.

The image of the latino man and the black goth kissing each side of the ginger haired nerd made Patton smile fondly.

Patton (11:12 PM): Omg, you all look so adorable <3

Patton (11:12 PM): I’m happy you enjoyed your movie :3

Virgil (11:14 PM): Yeah, it was really cool

Virgil (11:15 PM): Logan and Roman wouldn’t stop geeking around it after the movie, they almost didn’t finished their meal

Roman (11:16 PM): Oh, come on! There were many things to think about after that

Virgil (11:17 PM): I’m not complaining, charming prince. It was cute seeing you theorizing things.

Roman (11:17 PM): UwU

Roman (11:20 PM): But hey! I guess we were not the only one who had a good movie night ¬u¬~

Roman sent a picture of his twin, laying on the living room’s couch, sleeping with his mouth open and his eyes slightly allowing to see his sclera as a short man with a small vitiligo around his left eye was sleeping on him with this arms embracing the rat man. Patton cooed upon the vision of his brother in such a lovely state.

Roman (11:22 PM): @Patton Morales blackmail? >:)

Patton (11:23 PM): Pffff come on, Roman. We both know none of us would do this xD

Roman (11:23 PM): Urgh, yeah you right…

Roman (11:23 PM): Ah to be a poor honest man, who loves his brother too much

Roman (11:23 PM): ú-ù

Virgil (11:25 PM): Say this for yourselves, I have no sympathy for those dirty little sinners

Roman (11:25 PM): omg VIRGIL!

Virgil (11:26 PM): Urrrrrrgh alright alright, I’m the one who’s not allowed to be a jerk. Sorry.

Roman (11:27 PM): I’m afraid some sins shall not be forgiven, sweet pudding… ú-ù

Virgil (11:27 PM): Tsc, fuck you then. I want my Nightmare Before Christmas DVDs back

Patton (11:27 PM): Omg, dears. Not this late at night xD

Virgil (11:28 PM): lol ok, Patt. Don’t worry, I was just kidding

Virgil (11:28 PM): I highly support your brothers

Virgil (11:29 PM): I love you all

Roman (11:29 PM): I love you too, storm cloud <3

Patton finished to curl up on his bed, hugging one of his pillows like a teddy bear and smiled to the phone screen with his lovely partners texts

Patton (11:30 PM): Hey, loves?

Virgil (11:30 PM): Yeah?

Roman (11:31 PM): Yes, Patton?

Patton (11:32 PM): I know this will sound random but… Thank you

Patton (11:32 PM): Thank you for being with me for so long

Patton (11:32 PM): Thank you for accepting and understanding me

Patton (11:33 PM): Thank you for being so kind and so nice and for having me in your lifes

Patton (11:33 PM): Having you as my partners was the best thing that ever happened to me and I don’t know how I’d be able to live without any of you

Patton (11:34 PM): I just have a lot of feelings hehe

Patton (11:34 PM): Anyway… That’s it. I’m going to sleep now but I had to say it.

Patton (11:35 PM): I love you, dears!

[xofanfics]

Swipe Right - Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Genre: angst, smut

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: You’re bored, swiping on Tinder and you happen to find one of your classmates on the app.

Hansol hadn’t texted you much since your first sexual encounter. A couple weeks had passed and you’d had sex a couple times between then and now. It’d been good and you always ended up completely satisfied. But there were a few things that bothered you. Oral sex seemed to be out of the question. He never asked you for it or even hinted at it, so you didn’t bring it up even though you wanted to. You wondered if he was one of those guys who didn’t enjoy it much. 

At this point, you didn’t know Hansol well. You asked him if he wanted to stay over when you had sex the other night, after his dance practice. He’d declined, saying that he had an assignment to finish before morning. And you didn’t fight him on it. You couldn’t be sure if he was lying or not but if he just didn’t want to, you would’ve rather him just say so. 

You’d only asked him to sleep over once, so maybe you were just overthinking. After all, you didn’t know him as well just yet. You had to get to know him outside of the sex. You wanted to connect with him like you had a couple weeks ago, at the diner. He seemed like a good guy and he was interesting. A lot of guys out there were superficial and ingenuine but he seemed different. 

Hansol thought about what Jun had told him. Maybe he had taken things too seriously with you. After all, you made it clear to him that you’d wanted to have sex that first night you hung out officially. He’d waited purposely because he wasn’t sure of you yet. Looking back, though, he realized that there were small signs of you wanting him. If you getting undressed in front of him wasn’t a sign, what was? He could’ve looked at your body; you clearly wanted him to but he chose not to. You’d slept in the same bed for God’s sake! And he didn’t even touch you. 

But Jun was right. Maybe he should just...chill. He was overthinking things. And he deserved a little fun after the hell that his ex put him through. 

After that conversation, Jun said, “You should keep your options open.”

“So date around?”

“I mean, you don’t have to,” he said, “but she’s probably talking to a bunch of other guys on Tinder too.”

Hansol wasn’t sure what to do with that information but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He hadn’t gone on Tinder to talk to other girls but maybe he should. He wasn’t sure what you were doing or if you were messing around with other guys. If you were talking to other guys, he wouldn’t know. But if you were, he should do the same, shouldn’t he?

So, with that, he started swiping left and right on Tinder. He came out with a couple matches. He recognized one of them; he’d definitely seen her around campus. And with Jun’s advice also came a Tinder tutorial. 

He’d said, “You can’t just say hi or hey. That’s boring. No one wants a boring guy. You have to say something to get their attention. Something cool. Reading their bio helps. You can find something to talk about.”

He went on Ashley’s profile first. And, after doing some thinking, he wrote, Since you like trying new restaurants, what’s the best one around here?

He sent out similar messages to the other girls he’d matched with, keeping Jun’s advice in mind. 

*

You were having a good day. Your last class of the day had ended early and you were at the mall with your roommates. The two had invited you to a party. It had been awhile since you’d gone out so you figured that it wouldn’t hurt. 

So you went in all the typical stores to find the perfect top to go with your jeans and boots. You almost found the perfect blouse in Forever 21 but, of course, they didn’t have your size. Your friends pulled you into H&M just as you were about to give up. There, you found the perfect peplum top. It was more of a wine color and it came in your size. It was good enough for you. You fished out a twenty dollar bill from your wallet to pay and were on your way soon enough. 

All throughout making tacos with your roommates, you were a little bummed that you’d barely spoken to Hansol. You saw him on campus once last week but he appeared to be in a hurry so you didn’t try to get his attention. You’d considered texting him but you didn’t want to come on too strong. After all, it seemed like you’d been the one texting him lately. And the last thing you wanted was to come off as desperate. 

You wondered what he was thinking. Was he even interested at this point? He had to be, you thought, if he was still having sex with you. Right?

“Why are you so blah?” asked Raina. 

“Yeah,” said Cam, “what’s on your mind?”

“It’s just Hansol,” you explained. “He’s so frustrating…”

“That’s the guy you’re seeing?” Cam asked. 

“Yeah,” chimes in Raina, “I can’t get any sleep because of them.”

The three of you burst into laughter at the table. You thought it was funny because Hansol had once mentioned how loud you were, genuinely surprised. 

You cleared your throat. “Anyway, we’ve been having sex but we don’t really talk as much outside of that. But the first time we hung out, we talked at the diner for hours and we didn’t even have sex. Now it’s just…”

“Sounds like you need a backup plan,” said Raina. “I don’t think we can depend on him.”

You sighed. You knew what your roommate was implying but you didn’t really want to go through the trouble of starting over again. Not that you had gotten very far with Hansol but you liked him and you wanted this arrangement to work. 

You said, “I want him …”

“I thought you just wanted sex,” Cam said. 

“I do. I just don’t want to talk to a bunch of other guys and be fucking Hansol at the same time,” you said. “I don’t know, it’s weird.”

“I mean...he probably talks to other girls. He’s a guy.”

You sighed again, shoving a corn chip into the guacamole that hadn’t turned out half bad. 

“Look,” said Cam. “We’re gonna have fun tonight and you’re gonna wear the fuck out of that outfit and...fuck Hansol!” She cleared her throat. “I mean, not fuck him in the sex way but the other way…”

The three of you burst into laughter again, filling the room with uncontrollable giggles. 

*

You felt better once you started getting ready. Hansol was pushed to the side, somewhere in the back burner of your brain. He was the least of your problems now, with tequila in your system. You and your friends blasted music in the living room and danced around the living room, singing the wrong lyrics to your favorite songs. 

You got dressed and you received a handful of compliments from your roommate and other friends that had arrived at your suite to walk over to the party together. 

You and your friends took pictures together in the living room with one of those tripods for your phone that your roommate had ordered from amazon. The five of you took silly ones, sexy ones, and “normal” photos; as normal as you could be four shots in. 

Then, you headed toward where the party was. There was another group walking in front of yours, probably headed to the same party. 

“Whose party is this anyway?” you asked. 

Raina said, “I don’t know.”

You rolled your eyes. “How do you not know whose party we’re going to?”

She shrugged. “Cam saw it on Twitter. We have the address. That’s about it.”

As you rounded the corner, you realized that Hansol’s house was a block away. Fuck him, you thought. I look good as fuck tonight. He’s gonna wish he could have me tonight…

You were so consumed in your confident thoughts that you didn’t even notice that you were walking up to the same house of the person that you were trying to forget tonight. Part of you didn’t want to go in and part of you wanted him to see you. You pushed your insecure thoughts to the side and proceeded past the gate behind your friends. 

People were standing outside on the porch, drinking beers and smoking cigarettes. Hansol was nowhere to be found outside. 

Raina led the group to the door and was stopped by a cute guy who was drinking beer on the porch. “Hey ladies.”

Raina said, “Hey…”

“Did someone invite you?”

“Well...”

The guy let out a laugh and pay Raina’s shoulder. “I’m just kidding. Come in.” The guy led your group inside, saying, “I think there’s still some vodka punch left.” You followed him into the all too familiar kitchen and he started grabbing cups and scooping punch into them with one of those big soup ladles. 

“So what’s your name?” Raina asked.

He handed her a cup. “Jun. You?”

“Raina.”

“Cute.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking a sip. 

When he gave you your cup, he raised his eyebrows as if he knew you from somewhere. But as fast as the look came, it left. You assumed he thought that he knew you and shrugged it off, taking a sip. Your thought process was interrupted as your friends pulled you away, into the familiar living room. 

Cam said, “It’s clear he’s only interested in talking to Raina so let’s just chill here.”

“He’s cute,” your other friend commented. 

You nodded. “He is. I wonder if this is his party.”

The front door opened and your eyes wandered to the person coming inside. It was to be expected; he did live here. Your heart fluttered when you saw him and you wanted to tell it to stop but it didn’t. Hansol came through the door in a grey button down and jeans. He looked so good that you could jump on him right now. You didn’t like what followed, thought. 

A girl entered the house behind him and Hansol closed the door behind her. Then, he put his hand around her waist and whispered something in her ear. She giggled as they went into the kitchen. 

Your heart dropped. Who was this girl? Where was Hansol coming from? Were they friends? What was the deal? You don’t wanted to know. 

You tried to hide the hurt on your face as you made up your mind that you’d pretend you hadn’t seen your crush at all. Your friends were talking with a random guy that had approached the group a few minutes ago. He seemed interesting enough. You joined the conversation. 

The guy, Alex, mentioned that they were almost out of beer. He said, “I kind of wanna get some more beers before they run out.”

You said, “I’ll go with you.”

Your friends gave you a strange look but didn’t say anything. Alex shrugged and you followed him out of the crowded living room. 

“What kind of beer do you like?” he asked, on your way out of the gate. 

“I’m not too into beer but I like Stella Artois,” you said.

Alex chuckled. “Fancy, huh?”

“I’m more of a wine girl to be honest.”

“Would you rather get a bottle of wine?”

“Of course but I don’t wanna ruin your plan.”

“How about let’s just get both. I’ll buy it for you, pretty.”

Your heart fluttered at the compliment. “Thank you.” The attention you were getting from Alex felt good. Especially since Hansol seemed to have no idea you existed and since he seemed to have another girl around. You realized that your friends were right. Hansol clearly had another girl he was seeing. So, you decided that you’d do whatever you want tonight and put Hansol on the back burner. 

*

Hansol wasn’t sure why he invited Ashley to this party. Looking back, she pretty much invited herself. She was a nice girl and they had a nice conversation but he wasn’t sure how he felt about her just yet. They hadn’t gotten far and he hadn’t intended for her to meet his friends just yet.

He stood in the living room with Ashley, making conversation with his other roommate, Josh, and his girlfriend. He heard the front door open and he looked up to find Alex, with you following behind him. The two of you brought in what appeared to be a bottle of alcohol and a case of beer. Your mouth was wide with laughter and so was Alex’s.

He immediately felt awkward. He hadn’t intended for Ashley to be here with him and he hadn’t expected to see you here either. He wasn’t trying to hide anything from you but he still felt a pang of guilt. He and Ashley had gone out for food and maybe flirted a little over texts but it hadn’t gone further than that.

Alex called out to Hansol and he wished that he hadn’t. Did he know you? What were you doing with him? He didn’t know that you two knew each other. Were you seeing him, in that way? Alex was a good guy from what he’d gathered. He even admitted to being a one girl type of guy. If you were with him in that way, did that mean that Hansol was in the process of elimination? He didn’t have an issue with Alex but now that he had seen you with him, he was no longer interested in being friends with him. 

“Hey,” Alex said, with you behind him. 

Your eyes met Hansol’s. He looked at you but he couldn’t determine what you were feeling. 

You smiled and said, “Hey Hansol.”

Alex glanced from you and then back to Hansol. “Oh, you already know each other?”

You nodded before he could answer. “We had a class together last semester.”

It wasn’t a lie. You hadn’t really talked much back then. Not until you matched on the very familiar dating app. 

Ashley spoke up, as if she had to make her presence known. “Hey, I’m Ashley.”

You smiled at her, too, and said, “Y/N.”

*

A beer and two shots later, you found yourself caring less and less about Hansol and the stupid girl that came with him. Everything was confirmed now and you felt stupid for putting all your eggs in one basket. How could you be so stupid to think that it was possible to have a friend with benefits arrangement with one person? 

You looked at Ashley from across the room. She was wearing a revealing shirt, completely filled out with her boobs. Was that why? Was Hansol a boobs guy? 

You knew that you had no right to feel jealous. You were just two people having sex sometimes, so you couldn’t go over there and tell him that it was bothering you. Then you’d look like the crazy one. So you had to keep all of these things to yourself. 

You had just joined the line for the bathroom as the girl in front of you groaned. You chuckled. “Has it been awhile?”

“Yeah. It’s been over five minutes. The girl that was in front of me left. She said she was gonna go in the backyard.” 

The two of you started laughing together and when the door opened, Hansol and Ashley came out giggling. They hadn’t even noticed you waiting. You just glared after them. 

You were over it, you decided. So you decided to give Alex your full attention. After you went to the bathroom, you found Alex sitting on the couch with some other guys. You took it upon yourself to sit in his lap. 

He said, “Hey cutie.”

“Cute? That’s it?”

“Hey gorgeous. Is that better?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“What about me then?”

“Sexy.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Want another drink?”

You shook your head deciding that, while another drink would be nice, you’d rather something else. You leaned into him, pressing your lips to his. Alex was pleasantly surprised and started kissing you back. Your tongues met somewhere in the middle, clashing and colliding into the other. His mouth was warm and tasted like beer but you enjoyed the kiss nonetheless. It was crazy that you’d kissed another guy before you even got around to kissing Hansol twice. 

You figured that this was better. Maybe Alex would be a better option for you. But, then again, you shouldn’t get too ahead of yourself. Little did you know, Hansol was on the other side of the room watching as you played tonsil hockey with someone that wasn’t him.

[jenomark]

Chapter 2

○Pairing: College!Mark x Reader (Female)

○Other Members/ Characters: X

○Genre: fluff & a little angst

○Warnings: One of the characters dialogue tends to be a little offensive at times. It’s all things I’ve heard spoken to me, or to my friends. I kept it in because she reminds me a lot of people I’ve experienced in my life, and I draw my inspiration from shitty people like that.

○Word count: 2,005

→Summary: A new school, no friends, and a boy who unexpectedly runs into you and changes everything.

______________________________________________________________

  You had a dream of lost rings, and of boys with their mothers. You went to sleep so late after getting in that you crashed on your bed still fully clothed. You ended up wandering campus until late at night, people watching, and eating microwavable pizza all by yourself. When you arrived back at the dorm, your roommate was passed out and clutching her childhood stuffed animal. You don’t remember ever feeling so much happen at once, but your time with the boy and his letter was the most exciting thing to happen to you thus far.

  You woke up to the sound of your roommate loudly filing her nails. She sat on her bed just watching you, her eyes glazed over. When she heard you stir, she let out a deep sigh every few seconds until you looked at her.

“Do you think real love exists?” she asked.

  Having her talking to you was a breakthrough, but all you needed was two more hours of sleep. You tried rolling over, but she came over and sat at the edge of your bed.

“I don’t mean, like, love for your cat, but real, genuine love.” she said.

“You’re eighteen,” you groaned. “The only love you should have is between you and your kpop boys.”

“Don’t mock me.”

 You shoved a pillow over your head. “I’m not mocking you. I am telling you the truth.”

“You are mocking me,” she said. “I know girls like you. You’re so cynical and you think everyone hates you because you’re edgy but you’re just scared of receiving love so you refuse all of it.”

  She removed the pillow from your face and threw it onto the floor. The look on your face probably gave her enough ammo on you to last all year.

“I’m right,” she said. “Admit it.”

  Your phone was lying beside you. You picked it up and looked at it: 0 calls, 0 messages, 0 emails.

“The only thing I’ve ever loved is a plant, and I killed it because I loved it too much.” you said.

“A boy came by to see you.”

“What? What boy?” you asked.

  You lifted yourself into a sitting position, which hurt your neck. You touched your head and recalled the moments from yesterday.

“What did he look like?” 

“Asian”

“That’s racist.”

 “I’m sorry,” she said. “He was cute, in a momma’s boy kind of way. He looks like he plays baseball and loves Jesus.”

“That’s offensive.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m trying. Is he your boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you want him to be?”

“No.”

“I guess that is for the best,” she said. “Men are a disappointment.”

  You rolled out of bed and looked in the mirror. You looked liked a mess. You combed your fingers through your hair and checked yourself out. 

“Are you sure?” she said. “You’re looking a little too hard at that mirror. He probably likes what he sees edgelord.”

“Yes. I mean, no...Yes I’m sure..no I don’t want him.” you said. “What did he want, anyhow? Not that I care, because I don’t.”

“He wants you to meet him in the cafeteria at 11.” she shrugged. “If you’re going, can you please get me a fucking doughtnut this time? I’m trying to eat all of my feelings.”

  You looked at your phone and saw that it was 11:10. You ran to your little closet and picked out a new outfit, tearing your clothes off from the night before. You had never changed in front of anyone, but you didn’t let it phase you. You decided that you would really try and make an effort with your life.

“Goodbye!” she yelled as you ran out. “Stupid bitch.”

  You arrived at the cafeteria out of breath. The place was huge and far too expensive, even with a meal plan. You scanned the crowds, looking for him, but couldn’t find him. When you were getting ready to give up, you heard a sigh from behind you.

“Good afternoon,” he said.

  You turned and faced him. He looked surprisingly chipper, and nothing like the boy you met yesterday.

“You wanted to meet with me?”

“Yeah,” he said. 

  He held up your ring at eye level. When you didn’t take it, he grabbed your hand and unfolded your fingers until he saw your palm. He placed the ring in the center and closed your fist.

“I went and talked to her this morning,” he said. “I thought you should know.”

  He walked away, motioning for you to keep up with him. He stopped by the sugary doughnut case and bought two, one for you and one for him. He handed it to you and said there was no need to thank him.

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked.

“Hold this.” he said.

  He handed you a beautifully bound blue notebook. You tucked it underneath your arm as he paid for the treats. When he was finished, you kept walking.

“You seemed hurt.” he said, shrugging.

“I was hurt when you bumped into me, and that’s it.” you said. “It’s your life.”

“Either way,” he said. “I went and I apologized to her. You were right. I shouldn’t have left her a letter. I think I knew it would damage us beyond repair, and I think that is what I wanted. I realize now that maybe that wasn’t the best way to go about it.”

   You took a nibble of your doughnut and looked away from him. There was something about him that made you feel things and you didn’t like it. You didn’t know if it was because you were attracted to him, or because he made you feel comfortable.

“I’m Mark, by the way,” he said. “You don’t have to tell me your name. Your roommate already told me. You look peaceful when you’re sleeping.”

“Gross.”

  Just like that, things began to feel easier. Mark laughed, the sound loud and contagious. His whole face lit up from happiness, and it made you stop and stare a little too long.

“I have to go to class,” you said. “Thanks for the doughnut, Markie.”

  You slipped your ring back on your finger and examined it in the light. Everything seemed right. There was no angry ex-girlfriend, crisis averted. Your roommate was opening up a little, and there was a new person standing right in front of you.

“That’s a pretty ring.” he said.

“My father gave it to me,” you said. “I wear it to remind myself that men are awful.”

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

  Sitting down for class, you untucked Mark’s notebook from your arm. You hadn’t noticed it was there until you had said goodbye to him. You set it down in front of you and paid attention to your professor. All throughout the lecture, you looked down at it. Your fingertips touched the edges of the paper, the string holding it together, and his name embossed on the front.

  I could take one peek. He wouldn’t ever know. I could find out which dorm he lives in,  and return it to him while he is sleeping. He would be none the wiser. He didn’t seem that bright, anyhow.

  You pulled the string apart slowly. Paranoia set in fast. You looked at the faces all around you to make sure you didn’t have a class with him and maybe you just didn’t know it. When you felt safe, you yanked the last of the string. It was all there for the taking. Now all you had to do was open it and look inside. Chances are, it wouldn’t even be that interesting and you could erase the bad decision from your memory.

  Trust is a thin, blue line. You walked it constantly like a shaky acrobat walking the tightrope. You didn’t want to be the girl who pried into other peoples business. You knew it had something to do with your own life being dull, but that was no excuse.

“Cool book.” the person next to you said.

“Thanks.”

  You opened it up like it belonged to you. On the first page was a letter that could only be from his mother. You snapped the book shut and decided you couldn’t do it. After a few minutes, you opened it again but skipped the first page. Inside were little notes about how to fry an egg in a woman's handwriting, and little words written in the margins. Diving in deeper, you read lyrics and diary entries, saw little doodles and bucket lists. Mark was a talented writer. You wanted to read more, to really get inside of his brain, but class was ending and it was time to return the book.

   When you went to return the book, you couldn’t find him anywhere. You found out that he didn’t even live on campus, and that he hadn’t made any friends. You were hoping to bump into him, but there was no such luck.

“I can hold it while you’re gone?” your roommate said. “He might not go home over the weekend, like me. He could come looking for it.”

“That’s okay,” you said. “I’ll just bring it home with me.”

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

  In the car ride home, your mother was silent. You were hoping to convince Renjun to come back home like he was supposed to, but he wouldn’t answer his phone. You held Mark’s notebook in your lap and occasionally flipped through it. You had touched it so much that it felt like yours. You had nearly read all of it by now, too.

“ What is that?” your mother asked.

‘“A friends book. ” you said, the word ‘friend’ feeling foreign on your tongue.

“Mark?”

“That’s his name.”

“A boy?”

“Yes, mom, a boy.” you said. 

“A boy you like?”

“He’s just a boy.”

“Your father was ‘just a boy’.” she said.

  She didn’t talk about your father often. When she did, it’s like she forgot what happened for one blissfully ignorant moment. She had lived in memories since he left. The good things made her smile, old photographs of the two of the together, or an anniversary gift that meant everything to her.  After mentioning him, she always grew quiet and somber. It angered you that she would do that to herself, that she would go through a league of emotions just to stop at pity for her actions.

“Let’s just stop talking.” you said. 

  You flipped through Mark’s notebook, finding comfort in every dog-eared page. On the second from last page, you noticed a number written really small in the upper right corner. It blended in before, but now it definitely looked like a number. You brought out your phone and texted it.

You: Mark? Does this number belong to a Mark? His last name is Lee. You: Hello? I’m sorry. I’m trying to get into contact with a boy named Mark.

Him: i do know a Mark, I think.

You: Mark Lee?

Him: yes, I think so. I heard that guy is handsome.

You: I heard his mother wipes crumbs from his face.

Him: i hate you. How did you get this number? I try not to give my number out to weird girls.

You: Your notebook. You gave it to me to hold. Where have you been? I’ve tried giving it back. 

Him: Busy.

You: It’s been a whole week.

Him: A whole week of you in my life. I must be lucky.

You: Well, if you want your precious notebook, you have to come and get it.

Him: Where are you?

You: Driving home.

Him: And home is?

You: Hell.

Him: Directions. I need directions. That book is important to me.

You: Oh, right. 

Him: did you look inside of it?

Him: You’re not answering. You did. Were you sent to ruin my life?

You: I’m sorry.

Him: You could have lied.

You: I don’t lie to my friends.

  Mark didn’t text back. You put your phone down and hugged his notebook to your chest. Your mother didn’t question anything, just drove in silence.

[fmdxsujiarchive]

summary: switzerland did wonders for suji when it comes to songwriting. this one’s dedicated to her sister. kind of. date: late february, after switzerland word count: 1,190 words, minus the lyrics notes: creative claims (full lyrics) verification self-para for see you! the album isn’t out until november, but the lyrics to this is written soon after switzerland so it fits timeline-wise. also, this turned out so much longer than i expected.

suji never really sits down and starts writing lyrics. she usually has a sketch: one or two lines, maybe a keyword, a few blurbs from her daydreams and thoughts. this one isn’t all too different, and it’s actually been started on the trip. the last few days after she rejected her sister’s offer to meet up, suji’s mind had been completely fogged. both with regret and relief. regret that she didn’t take that first step of courage and meet up with her sister, forgetting about the fact that her parents might find out and bombard her with calls or kakaotalk messages about how she should return to england because that’s where she belongs. but also relief because it means that she doesn’t have to deal with all of that. all of her parents’ words and thoughts about how everything suji decides for herself is wrong, and that she should listen to them. 

she’s borrowed the studio of one of the in-company producers; the one that she usually goes to for help and assistance because he’s the friendliest and because he sees her potential, something she’s ever so grateful for. also because he’s the one that’s composed the song that she’s about to throw these lyrics onto. he wrote it and sent it to her while she was in switzerland along with the message: this one’s for you, miss baek! it’s his way of encouraging her, and she’s just flattered that he finished a song and immediately thought about her. it could very well have gone to some other artist that could do it more justice, but he believed in her. 

opening up her phone’s notes app, she takes a look at the text message that she wanted to send her sister. the drafted one is a lot longer, and it’s a lot more vulnerable. it talks about how suji wants nothing more than to see cheryl, meet her husband, and finally have a conversation face-to-face. the last time they spoke in person, it’s been bitter and although things have gotten much better between the two of them, there’s no denying that there’s still a wall that needs to be destroyed. a wall that she knows can only be taken down in person. 

usually suji would take inspiration from her hand-written notes. people call her old-fashioned for preferring to hand write everything, but she finds it more genuine. perhaps that’s why she doesn’t like how the text message reads out loud. she’s cringing at how expressive the text is, and she’s glad that she instead went with the short ‘sorry, i’m booked throughout the whole trip! maybe next time. love you!’ it’s genuine, and it’s a lot more amelia-like, she knows that. she also knows that cheryl’s probably a little upset at her short refusal. she’s hoping that deep down, her older sister realizes that it’s not her she’s trying to avoid. it’s their parents. 

she reads over the text message that was supposed to be sent. hey, cheryl. sorry this response is so late, but i have genuinely been busy with filming and shooting. i have cameras in my face 24/7, and i’m expected to be smiling in front of them at all times. i’m sorry that i won’t be able to meet you. i really do, but i just can’t. i hope you’ll understand it one day. actually, i think you do already understand. you know how... mom and dad can be. they haven’t stopped being, well, them even after i’ve moved to korea, and i know they’ve only been worse with you once i left. i’m sorry i couldn’t be there for you, and i’m sorry i’m not there for you right now. but i’m still a coward. i’m still little amelia who can’t face up to them. i really do miss you, and i want to see you, but i just can’t right now. maybe one day when i’m stronger, when i’m braver, when i’m bigger. but until then, please forgive your little sister who can’t do anything for you. this may sound shameless, but i truly love you. i’m sorry. 

a scoff leaves her lips because even though she’s the one that wrote it, it’s so fucking shameless and pitiful. the fact that she’s twenty-six, and she still can’t fight her parents, and their stupid expectations is ridiculous. cheryl’s been dealing with it all ever since suji moved to korea, and she won’t admit it out loud, but it’s that guilt that also stops her from seeing her. she just doesn’t know what to say to her face. 

after she reads over the message over and over again, she turns on the tune that the producer had sent her. the words come out almost immediately. suji’s real thoughts, her real feelings when it comes to her sister. how much she misses cheryl’s embrace, and how she misses having someone there for her. it’s shameless, she knows, because she expects so much from her older sister when she hasn’t been doing the same for her. but that’s what little sisters do, right? 

hello, it’s been a while. i just wanted to see you. there’s nothing new going on, i just thought of you. that’s the truth, there’s nothing going on, i just wanted to see you. i thought of the days we spent together. 

she wonders what her sister would think if she ever read these lyrics. would the bigger feelings return? would she blame suji once again for the amount of pressure she’s had to deal with? suji deserves it. she knows she does. cheryl’s been facing their parents while suji’s only been running away. 

when did it begin? when the end of my days didn’t include you. when did it begin? when i called you and couldn’t find anything to say i’m doing so-so. i smile, but sometimes i cry as well after a day’s end, i sometimes miss those days

suji can’t remember the last time she’s really laughed with her sister. it was probably when they were younger. something they watched on tv, probably. a korean variety show that their parents made them watch because they didn’t want the sisters forgetting korean. they were silly. they would copy what they saw on television or run outside and jump for the one swing that didn’t make as many squeaking sounds. or play dress up with cheryl always making suji dress up as the pretty boy. 

when did it begin? when we started waiting for us to grow up. when did it begin? when time passed over our heads. 

was it too late? was true reconciliation impossible? or was this all just a play going on in suji’s head where her insecurities and guilt is taking over once again? cheryl didn’t sound mad over the texts nor during the phone calls they have once in a while. maybe it’s suji who’s just mad at herself. not even at cheryl nor even her parents. it’s all her. suji’s just furious that she never braved up even after all these years. could she really forgive herself after everything she put her sister through? 

i just shortly thought of you. no, you were always in my heart. i miss you. i got reminded of you. we were always together. 

picking up her phone, her finger hovers over cheryl’s name on the messaging app. she looks at the emoticon that her older sister sent her when suji had responded that she couldn’t find the time to meet up. it’s a puppy sobbing, and she adds in amelia, this emoticon reminded me of you! and she can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. 

it’s not a big deal. she needs to stop being so scared of nothing. she goes back to her phone app, copies the original message and pastes it, hitting send. cheryl doesn’t mind. she doesn’t mind one bit. it was all in her head. it was her own guilt eating her up. 

i was just walking. i forgot to look at the clock. it’s getting late, be well, and let’s see each other next time.

[loveisah-maze]

BTS Reacts to their S/O being Hard of Hearing

Hey guys! This is my very first ever reaction to ever write so please be good to me. I’ve been inspired by other requests about it, even requested some my own. However me being hard of hearing I thought I would make my own for fun :)

Jin

Jin would honestly be surprised, as he had seen you take care of yourself pretty well, though knowing about it would make him curious. This was something you brought up pretty early into a friendship or relationship just in case because some people tend to stay ignorant about it.

“I’m hard of hearing, just thought you should know.”  you say bluntly with a shrug while sipping your now lukewarm coffee. Jin looks at you with his dark puppy eyes, full of concern and wonder at your confession. He could tell this is something you worried about telling, but was glad nonetheless that you felt comfortable enough to tell him.

“It’s okay if you want to leave-”

“Y/N, do you think I think any less of you right now?” He asked, honestly bewildered that you would think he would leave over something so simple. Especially something that is a part of you. Now he was intrigued, “Can you teach me some korean sign language? Do you know Korean sign language? Ah, Y/N that is so cool.”

Suga

Suga being a person who isn’t easily swayed from what he likes could care less. He would not treat you any different knowing you well enough that you can take care of yourself despite the hearing loss. He had already had suspicions when he saw what was in your ears but had never felt like he needed to ask about it.

“I wear hearing aids.” you blurt out, and proceeded to bite the skin around your fingers. A nervous tick you did when something bothered you. Suga looked up from his phone and nodded nonchalantly, “I know.” he said softly.

“Why didn’t you ask about them?” you inquired, genuinely curious. Putting down his phone he looked straight at you, biting his lip as he thought of what to say. That was the power that he held and to those around him, people valued his thoughts because he reserved them.

“I noticed them awhile ago but never asked because I knew you would tell me someday, and you did.” he explained with a cool expression, his eyes set on mine like he could read my mind. “And I knew you could hear my music so I never worried about it like that either.”

Namjoon

Namjoon would be the kind of guy who felt bad that you never told him earlier. Him being someone who always wanted to include people in everything, vowed to research more about it when he had some extra time.

“Can you put subtitles on the movie?” you asked while taking your shoes off at the door. You hadn’t told Namjoon about your hearing aids but it was something that would just bring itself up, like today.

“Why?” he peeped, the sound of rustling enveloped your hearing aids as he gathered snacks for your movie night. Namjoon had a feeling just because there had been times when he would whisper to you but never reacted.

“Well, I wear hearing aids. I need the words in case I miss something.” you expounded, not really sure how to direct the conversation as you knew Namjoon would genuinely be curious.

He walked out of the kitchen, his dark eyes focused on you as he showed you the infamous closed smile, revealing dimples you could not resist. “I’ll make sure to put them on, what else can I do to make sure you’re included?”

J-Hope

J-Hope being the sweet little sunshine would be understanding but also ignorant about it. He’d be afraid that he would offend you somehow not knowing how to deal with your hearing impairment.

“Hey can you look at me when you’re talking to me? I need to read your lips.” I said abruptly when Hoseok was explaining, quite expressively the new dance the guys had just learned today. Hoseok was confused, poor guy as his face was so translucent and easy to read. “I’m hard of hearing and need to read your lips to get everything.” I explained further.

Hoseok didn’t know how to react so he would just ask questions like, “Were you born with it? Do you know sign language? How do you listen to music? What is it like? Am I asking too many questions? Have I offended you?”

I sighed, expecting a parade of questions like usual, “Hoseok, finish your story first and I’ll answer your questions.”

Hoseok nodded, “Alright Y/N. So this dance was so hard because namjoon needs to do a flip but you know him he’s clumsy as heck which is why we gave the flip to V...

Jimin

Jimin would be super sweet and understanding especially as someone who deals with his own imperfections. He realized that you are proud of your hearing loss and would want to learn from you, even learn some really cute phrases in sign language behind your back so he could surprise you someday.

*knock knock* vibrated through your apartment but not in your ears as you did not have your hearing aids in because of your shower you just finished 15 minutes ago. In your mind you remembered Jimin was supposed to come over, and checked your phone to find several missed calls and unread messages from Jimin. You quickly grabbed your hearing aids and rushed to the door to a shivering, but adorable Jimin.

You let him in and showered him with a parade of apologies after the door was shut, “I’m so sorry Jimin, I forgot to put my hearing aids in after my shower and did not hear my phone or the door.” I confessed, your face flushed with embarrassment as you run your hand through your damp hair.

Jimin looked at you with such curious eyes, one of his best features you believed as it seemed you could swim in them. “You’re hard of hearing, Y/N?” he asked for clarification and nodded when you gave it to him.

“Can you tell me about what it’s like? I’d like to know more than I already do.” he said sweetly giving you his winner smile that you could not help but mirror.

V

V would be pretty similar to Jimin in being understanding and wanting to learn more, however he would not treat you any different as you guys got to know each other. In fact, if you had any accommodations he would gladly oblige to help you out.

You silently sipped your coffee and jumped in surprise when you felt hands on your shoulders shaking you. You heard a deep voice behind you but could not make out what was said. “I’m sorry, but can you repeat that?” you asked, genuinely curious at what your coworker V said to you. He smiled his unique, boxy smile that easily reached his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile back at him as he was so fun to be around.

“I said, I thought of you while in the bathroom just now.” He gladly repeated, winking at you making you roll your eyes in a jokingly manner. “You are too much sometimes.” you retorted his way making him laugh, another reveal of that boxy smile making you feel fuzzy again.

All that ended when one of your hearing aids turned off abruptly causing you to frantically go through your belongings for your hearing aids batteries. V watched you curiously as you switched the old battery with the new, “Y/N those are cool, do they help you hear?” he asked but ended up repeating himself when he realized you didn’t have your aid in.

“Yeah, they do. Thanks for being so open about them.” you tell him with a content smile.

“Of course, Y/N”

Jungkook

(Lowkey this gif is giving me all kinds of feelings rn)

Jungkook would be so adorably concerned about it but also super ignorant as he never met someone with hearing aids. He is willing to learn more but also lowkey worried you won’t be able to hear him sing.

“I’m hard of hearing” you say so softly in the loud coffeshop that it would surprise you if he heard. Though, when you look up Jungkook is looking right at you, his eyes full of concern. You see a visible gulp with his adams apple and bite your lip with anxiousness for his response.

“Y/N.. Do the aids help you?” he asked genuinely not sure what to say. You nod and he takes a sip from his americano still not sure. “I don’t know anything about it, can you help me with that?” he asks in which you smile at him eagerly.

“I’ll help you Jungkook, don’t worry. We’ve got all day.” you proceeded in telling him your life story, how you deal with it, what he needs to be aware of around you. When you two get to the topic of music, he sighs in relief when you explain that you can in fact hear music, even the singing.

“The only thing I have issues with is understanding what is being sung. In that case I’ll look the lyrics up usually.” you explain, laughing at his relieved reaction.

“I can work with this Y/N.” he says to you confidently.

(Hello lovelies! I’ve been contemplating being a bts writer, still not sure about it. I love to write, and want to improve it so I’ll be posting things randomly until I get comfortable. ^^)

[tenecity]

dead

requested: yes

genre: angst, a little fluff

masterlist 

❝ you say you can live without me so why aren’t you dead yet?❞ —dead, by Madison Beer

❝ you could be here, but you’re there. ❞

You irritatingly press the phone icon again and press the now warm screen again your hot ear. Pacing up and down the empty hallway, your teeth capture your lips again and they knaw hard on the chapped skin, breaking it eventually, a light trickle of blood staining your pale lips, but you couldn’t care less. All you care about at the moment is, where is Chengcheng?

For the 30th time, he doesn’t answer and your determination breaks down into nothingness. Collapsing on the couch, you face the door, heavy eyelids trying not to fall shut as you curl your body in, hope against hope that Chengcheng will come back home today.

And he does.

It’s 5:20am when you open your eyes to the light creak of your door. You open your eyes as a blurry figure appears at the doorway, trying as much as possible to be quiet. Seeing that you are already awake however, he noisily drops his shoes and lets out a loud sigh, making his way towards you. “I’m so sorry princess. Work got us up all night, I couldn’t come back any earlier.” The smiling facade takes over your furrowed brows and you let out a soft smile. “It’s okay. I know you’ve got a lot of work to do. It’s okay.” Fingers thread through his soft locks and you run your fingers through his hair, combing the messy locks back and a genuine smile plays on your lips as he leans in to your touch.

“Can I make up to it?”

The softly said words don’t wait for an answer as he leans in, dry but soft lips meeting your chapped ones. The same bubbling sensation, that same, familiar feeling of want courses through your veins as you loop your arms around his, carefully sitting up as he makes his way to sit on the couch, gently shifting you to sit comfortably on his lap.

His fingers dance against skin, hands tracking soothing circles on back. Lips find their way slowly trailing their way to your jawline and down your neck, pressing soft kisses against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I love you”s were whispered against the smooth skins, onto each other’s lips, echoing through the empty flat. You sigh, whether in pleasure or in relief that he is finally back, finally right next to you, you have no idea. You just know he leaves your skin burning at his touch, sparks at where his lips meet yours, leaving your mind fuzzing like you’ve been drunk.

Eventually, the two of you pull apart breathless but grinning like idiots, foreheads leaned against each other as you steady your breaths. As the puffs of air slow, he gently carries you towards the bed, crawling under the covers, holding your head close to his chest.

And as you snuggle into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath of his cinnamon scent, your lips pull into a smile.

He is finally here, and not there, somewhere.

-

Morning sun rays filter gently through your fluttering lace curtains, causing your eyelids to flutter open. Your arms stretch, in hopes of finding a certain boy next to you, but the mattress is cold as always, and he is no longer there. Emptiness fills the pit of your stomach as you scroll through your phone. Once again, you find his apology message, same as always; “I’m so sorry princess, the manager called us early, so I had to go first. See you soon princess, :)”

But right from the very first words to the last few characters, you know he is lying. He never “sees you soon”. The last time you two actually met, actually had physical contact like last night’s, was 21 and ⅔ days ago. 520 hours ago. The last time, as always, he had said he was sorry and he would see you soon.

But, if he really was that sorry,

Why did he have to come to you only 520 hours later, to say I love you?

-

It’s a lovely Saturday. The rain drops have evaporated from last night’s storm, leaving the atmosphere cool and fresh, crisp with some morning dew.

Taking large strides, you count the number of steps you need to reach from one end of the park to another. As numbers fill your mind, you try hard to distract yourself, but images of him, laughing, head thrown back; kissing, mature and reliable; eyes darting, not meeting yours as he tries to find another excuse for not coming home; your messages not answered till one, two days later, even though you could clearly see that he was active on Weibo.

-

When you saw Chengcheng in high school, you didn’t see what everyone saw. You didn’t see him as Fan Bingbing’s sister, you didn’t see him as a spoilt, rich kid, you didn’t see him as 高冷, high, mighty and cold.

You saw through the layers of facades, you saw through the labels and identities stuck on to him. You saw him, Fan Chengcheng, authentic, raw. You saw a boy, mature beyond his years, understanding that he needed to be a step ahead of everyone else in order to excel. Understanding that he had a name to live up to, and yet at the same time, was looking for ways to carve an identity for himself, one not tarnished with his sister’s fame, or his family’s riches or the names the bullies in school called him.

He was looking to create an identity that belonged to him, and him only.

And you loved him for that. You loved how he wasn’t willing to hide in the shadows as many family members of celebrities do. He was willing to step out, acknowledge his sister’s success, but at the same time, declare that he was a different person, he wasn’t his sister. He was determined to succeed with his own hardwork and talent, and not make use of a foundation that wasn’t intended for him.

You two, well, were partners in crime. Skipping class occasionally, having dates at the nearby ice cream store, sleeping in class, blowing up some chemicals in the lab. You two were complementary pieces of a puzzle; fitting perfectly with each other.

When you heard that he wanted to become an idol, you were all for it. You gave him your utmost support, cheering him on in the background.

But perhaps because you were in the background, you felt like you were fading with the black and white wallpapers, becoming invisible.

He didn’t go public with your relationship, claiming his manager said it would “decrease his market value”. He didn’t acknowledge you when you passed by each other backstage, in front of the cameras, claiming that he didn’t want people to start rumours and say mean things about you.

He said he was trying to protect you, protect us.

But you couldn’t help but wonder. What if he was lying?

He whispered comforting words into your hair over and over again, denying the above. And you believed every word of it. You sucked it up, telling yourself, you chose this, you chose to be the girlfriend of an up and coming famous idol. You knew this was going to happen.

But sometimes you wonder. Was this really what was supposed to happen? Ignored, until he needed something from you? Did you not do enough, to at least receive just a tiny bit of his attention or affection?

Recently, he hardly comes home. Your observant eyes and paranoid mind scrutinised every weibo update, every fanmeet, every commercial. And your heart sinks at your conclusion.

He looks so happy in the updates, in the fanmeets, genuinely enjoying himself. You’ve known him for so long, so well. You know what’s genuine and what isn’t.

The smile in front of those cameras, those cheeky grins, that laughter, all of it was genuine.

But in front of you, that soft smile that leaves the corner of his lips just slightly downturned, the grins that don’t quite meet his eyes, the fleeting laughter, it was like he put them up just for show.

They weren’t genuine anymore.

You realise, slowly and surely, as your heart starts to tear bit by bit, ripping apart every time he comes home—he only ever comes back when something terrible happens at work.

He comes home, steals a steamy kiss or two, sleeps next to you for an hour or two, and goes back out again, to solve that one pitch he can’t hit, to solve those lyrics that he can’t seem to rhyme.

-

It was like he was drunk whenever he came back, drunk on exhaustion, drunk on stress, drunk on his work.

And you were the cure for that drunkenness, a medication used specifically when he was drunk, when he needed to lash out his anger and relieve his stress.

You were just a toy in our dear Fan Chengcheng’s game to success. Just a pawn, love.

Footsteps halt abruptly at that thought. Whipping out your phone, you text him.

you

Tonight’s our 2 year anniversary, Chengcheng. Dinner at 6? :)

prince cheng

Of course, princess :) The Chinese restaurant across our place?

you

Sure

-

It’s 5.20pm and you look at yourself in the mirror. Perfect. You nod at yourself, approving of your look. Chengcheng would love it.

5.40pm, you leave for the restaurant, taking your time as you drink in the bustling city life.

6.00pm, he isn’t here.

6.30pm, he calls but you don’t pick it up.

6.40pm, he calls for the tenth time, and you eventually answer.

“Princess, you ok? I called so many times-”

“Chengcheng, where are you?”

“Look, I’m sorry princess. It’s just...Xukun made up this sick beat and melody and I was so absorbed in writing the lyrics, I forgot about the time. Y/n, this song’s going to be such a hit, it’s sooooo good, Kun-ge is a genius, honestly. Here, you want to listen to it-”

“It’s okay. See you soon, Chengcheng.” You say softly, and tap ‘End Call’, your phone shutting off with a soft click of the button.

12.40am, he rushed back home just as you’re about to go to bed.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry, I really-”

“Let’s break up.” You’re surprised at how calm you sound, when a storm is raging inside of you.

“What?”

“I said let’s break up.”

“Why? Just because I didn’t come home for our second year anniversary? Don’t be petty, y/n.”

You scoff. “Petty? Me, petty?” A sarcastic laugh ripples through the air. “I’m not being petty, Fan Chengcheng. Listen carefully. I’m just wanting what any girlfriend would want. Attention, affection, love, Fan Chengcheng! You only ever come back when you’ve got some music block or something, do you realise that?

“You’re just using me to relieve your stress, just to help you get through your rough times at work. And while that’s what I should be doing, Chengcheng, I need you too. 

“This isn’t a one sided thing, ok? This is me and you, this is us. Did I not do enough for you to even sacrifice your work for once and come back here?” Hot tears stream down your flushed face. 

You squint at him through your blurry vision, hoping to find a trace of concern or guilt on his face. But his pale face is blank. Just blank. Emotionless.

“Y/n, I’m an idol. My work is important ok? I can’t stop working. The moment I stop working, someone is going to take my place and-”

“Oh,” you throw your hands up in mock surrender. “So your work is so important to a point where I don’t matter any more, is that it?”

“Y/n, will you stop overreacting! That’s not what I meant-”

“Do you even love me anymore?” You hate how vulnerable you sound.

“....”

The smile that tugs at your lips is burdened with sadness. “So I thought. So let’s break up.”

“Please, Y/n, please.” His words are soft and wobbly, as if on the edge of the cliff. His arms snake around yours and his head buries into your neck, lips placing a soft kiss on the exposed skin there. 

“I can’t live without you.”

You laugh, the chuckle cutting through the heavy atmosphere. “Bullshit, Fan Chengcheng. You say you can’t live without me? Well, you seem completely fine in those fanmeets and commercials, and you sound genuinely happy when you’re composing. 

“Why aren’t those genuine smiles transferred back home? Why are the smiles so fake, the words now all lies?”

A new wave of tears are choking you, leaving you gasping for air, but you resist the urge to break down.

“You know you can’t lie to me, Fan Chengcheng. I can see it. I can see all of it! You don’t love me anymore, and you see me as a burden.”

His mouth opens, as if about to deny all that you have said. But he swallows the words as he watches you helplessly, arms limp by his side.

❝ you say you can live without me so why aren’t you dead yet?❞ The sneer is evident and menace drips along the sharp edges of your words.

It is only when the door is slammed shut with a final, grim click, do you slump to the ground, tears flowing down your cheeks in an unstoppable stream as you feel it, your heart finally tearing into two pieces, broken shards everywhere.

Outside, the raindrops pelt lightly against the window pane. And eventually, you pick up the broken pieces of your heart and sew them together, and before you know it, you’re doing better than ever. 

Because at least, you’re not a used toy anymore.

-

BREAKING NEWS: FAMOUS BOY BAND MEMBER DIES IN CAR CRASH

The straight, flat line and the annoying buzz can only do so much to numb your pain.

Silent tears roll down your cheeks as you gently caress the pale, cold cheeks of Chengcheng.

You stumble over your whisper as you choke out, "Can I make it up to you?"

But awh, sweetie, it's already too late.

-

Outside, the storm rages on.

[moonnfairie]

Seesaw

Yoongi drabble

Author: softmochijm

Word Count: 1,373

A/N: It’s been TOO long since I’ve been able to just sit down and write!! I got a new job and I’m now full time, which gives me no time to really act upon any creative juices I have. BUT, I was sitting on my couch while blasting this and reading the lyrics, and it inspired me to write this. OF COURSE, I don’t see Yoongi ever being *this* kind of person EVER, but this was inspired by his trivia track, and I interpreted it to follow a similar storyline that may or may not have happened to me. Anyway, I hope whoever reads this enjoys! The more I work and get a feel for my schedule and everything, the more I can make time for myself and write. I’ve missed it so much.

“Remember that long ass hike we went down to the beach near your place?”

You forced a chuckle, nodding slowly while staring at the ground, forcefully holding back the salted droplets that want to make their way down your cheeks.

That day was one of the most fun days you ever had with Yoongi. You knew that he was never one to go hiking, let alone move for long periods of time, but the day he finally let up and accepted your constant plea, you were overjoyed, because despite how tiring it was to get there, the view was what you wanted Yoongi to see in the end. The sunset slowly falling behind the ocean’s growing waves. The calming sound of the water rushing onto the shore. You remember turning to face Yoongi, wind blowing the loose strands of his auburn hair. You remember how warm you felt inside, as he reached to place his hand on yours, thanking you wordlessly for bringing you there with a big, genuine smile. It was one of the most beautiful moments you had in your entire life.

Every day you’d reference that moment. Good or bad, but especially the worst days. Days when things weren’t going well at work or in school, but specifically when you and Yoongi would argue.

The arguments were trivial at first, small things that were easily fixable once you both put the effort to stand down and listen to each other.

But things eventually got more heated.

Like after the night of your best guy friend Namjoon’s birthday.

You didn’t mean for any of that to happen.

It started off amazingly fun. Both you and Yoongi met up at the local bar with Namjoon and his other friends. Yoongi was never the type for bigger social gatherings, but he was willing to go considering Namjoon was your best friend.

Everyone became immensely hammered, slurring their words in meaningless conversations. Your world was spinning but you kept laughing it off with Namjoon, playfully punching his arm while Yoongi curiously eyed you every now and then. Namjoon became touchy too, the more he knocked back drinks. It started with placing his hand on your shoulder to holding you by your waist, and Yoongi was seated at the bar just watching as you both swayed side to side trying to rely on each other for balance.

After boisterously singing to the drunken birthday boy, Namjoon looked down at you, still holding you by your waist at his side, and just loud enough for everyone to hear, told you he loved you.

You snapped back to reality just for the moment to catch Namjoon leaning down to kiss you, but Yoongi sprang up from his barstool and shoved Namjoon to the ground.

Everyone in the bar turned at the loud thud and the insane amount of yelling coming from Namjoon’s friends. Only you and one of Namjoon’s other friends tried to pry them apart while everyone kept chanting between the two. You were in tears to find the both of them with purple splotches etched across their faces, blood oozing from the side of Yoongi’s lip.

You both ran out the bar as fast as you could, speeding home to take care of Yoongi’s wounds. Your relationship with Namjoon was never the same after that, and you feared that event would have the same effect with Yoongi too.

He told you everything was okay, and after a few weeks everything seemed ultimately in place.

Until he decided to meet up with his ex, who suddenly decided to visit the town for a couple days.

Yoongi provided the whole “she’s just a good friend now” spiel to you while you rolled your eyes, crossed your arms and stated “you know it’s more than that for her, but be my guest!”

You didn’t want him to see her. You didn’t want him to even talk to her.

But the guilt inside you was stirring up again at the thought of the incident with Namjoon. So you decided to suck it up.

They were just supposed to meet for dinner. He was just supposed to come home after, arriving around 10.

You waited up for him, almost half asleep when you heard the door open around 2 am.

You immediately shot up, sleepily walking over to give Yoongi a hug because God knew you’d need it after all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours.

But he reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

Your eyes widened at the aroma, searching his face for any expression on his face, but he remained stone cold, stoic, until sinking to the floor and holding his two palms against his face, trembling slightly.

“I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know, I don’t know...”

You crouched down at his level, moving his hands to reveal the tears streaming down his face. You felt the tears welling up in your eyes as you moved to caress his cheeks, until you noticed the messy marks splattered across Yoongi’s neck.

He watched you horrifically as you froze, slowly standing up and staring straight ahead. You felt yourself getting cold sweats, a mix of anger and sadness swirling in your pounding heart.

You hastily turned to your room and Yoongi jumped up to follow you, trying to hold onto your arm to stop you from moving.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so so sorry.”

You yanked your arm away from his grasp, turning to face him with the coldest stare, eyebrows furrowed, tears falling off your cheeks and onto the floor.

You gathered enough belongings to last you for a couple of nights and ran out the door, slamming it behind you.

Technically, you had no where to go, seeing as you didn’t really want to bother anyone, but you caved in and asked Lisa if you could stay the night, and she happily took you in.

What was supposed to be two nights max became a week and a half, a week and a half worth of mixed calls, texts, and voice messages. You didn’t answer any of them, but for the most part felt that you’d had cleared your mind enough to potentially face him again.

You returned home to see a tired, messy haired, drunken mess slouched on the couch, who, once he saw you walk through the door, stumbled towards you and embraced you in the most bittersweet hug you ever shared with him.

There was a lot to be said.

But neither of you wanted to have that conversation

So you both moved on without a word.

Ultimately, you thought this was probably for the better, thinking you could carry on your lives just as fine as before.

But you were too lenient.

And he was too greedy.

And the both of you picked each other apart, tackling each other’s weak points to get each other’s attention.

You craved the love and desire you once shared for each other in other people. You both thought that doing so would make someone try a little harder, a little longer, to make things work.

But this game had to come to an end. It was draining. It was heart wrenching. It wasn’t love anymore.

So you sat there now, on the same bench you sat on many times before when you visited this park, once your mutual favorite with Yoongi, talking about what once was, until you reach the conclusion, the last word, your ending.

You laughed pathetically.

“Yeah, we’ve experienced beautiful things in our time, Yoongi...”

The wind rustled through the trees while you spoke, leaves gently falling to the ground in every direction, you followed one with your eyes until it landed on a spot near Yoongi on the bench. His head turned towards the nearby playground. He continues to talk, still looking ahead.

“I’m sorry... for everything that wasn’t quite beautiful”

You look towards the playground too now.

“I’m sorry too”

Two children stop giggling as they finish their time on the seesaw.

“You know I will always love you, Y/N.”

You’re watching as the boy walks away while the girl stands to walk on the seesaw by herself, arms spread out to hold her balance.

You smile.

“I’ll always love you too, Yoongi

Goodbye.”