#he told me about a song on the ride to the apartment that he shared with me to help with my feelings about being trans

[jamsterrr]

P1HARMONY . . . IMAGINES ⭑.ᐟ

P1HARMONY ,, on the perfect date.

( OT6 ) ‘ better together.

contains ‼️ : fluff , slight kissing , ass slapping ( let me know if i’m missing something )

a/n : lowkey didn’t realize how long these are 😟 ,, intak’s is my favorite 🥹‼️ I’m sorry for how bad some of these are 😭 I’ve had this for a couple of weeks and I’ve been trying to get them done, I’ll make up for it I promise 😖💙

link to my masterlist . . . !

KEEHO ‹𝟹 | 기호

The two of you decided to go to a concert, finding the right prices to your favorite artist, sure it was in the middle, but that didn’t matter. Having only been dating for 3 months, and with his strict schedule at times, it was hard to find time. But when he came back to your shared apartment together, the two of you knowing about the concert and the tickets, it was something you could pass up.

The two of you decided to were matching outfits. Going out shopping a couple days before. Drinking smoothies, eating what some would consider ‘ fair food ‘ , sharing kisses and joking. Just enjoying time together.

“You look beautiful.” He spoke as he looked at you, adjusting your skirt slightly, pulling it a little not down your legs. You looked back at him with a smile, checking out him as well, his toned arms, muscles flexed showing through the shirt. And he swore his body wasn’t up to par. “Thank you, the skirt really brings it all together don’t you think?” You asked, he nodded. His toothy smile appearing as he walked to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, the cold buckle of his belt hitting your stomach.

Keeho grabbed a handful of your ass, causing you to yelp, looking at him as he pressed a slight passionate kiss to your lips, you couldn’t help but to return it and kiss back. Your hands gripping onto the males shoulders.

After a couple of minutes, you pulled away as well as him so the two of you could catch your breath. “What was that for?” You asked, he laughed and shook his head. “Just kissing my girlfriend.” The male placed a soft smack to your ass, pulling away and taking your hand. Noticing your red face, but who wouldn’t?

The male opened the car door for you as he got in, starting the car and driving to the venue where the two of you would be seeing the person in concert. During the car ride, the two of you jammed to songs, laughed and told jokes. Your love language. Even though Keeho put sung you, you enjoyed hearing his voice.

“I’m just saying, $25 for some parking is so stupid.” He said, eventually finding a parking spot as you laughed, shaking your head. “I guess it’s just a way for them to make money” you shrugged, finishing the rest of your makeup, applying lipstick. “We already paid damn near $2,000 for some tickets, what do they want from me.” He finished the sentence off with a laugh, parking and shutting off the car. Of course he had to wait for you but after, the two of you held hands, swinging them as you got into the line.

V.I.P 1.

As you waited in line, the two of you talked, him back hugging you and the two of you taking pictures of each other, asking an older lady to take photos of the both of you. It was sweet and wholesome. As well as some people recognizing Keeho, but were totally respectful about the two of your privacies.

The line started to make its way inside, swiping the tickets the two of you grabbing something to drink, perhaps for your vocal cords. Once the two of you made your way to your respected place. Your heart began to fill up with excitement. Seeing your second favorite singer in concert, or just going to concerts and places in general was just so fun.

Keeho held your hand, swaying in the crowd as the stadium began to fill up, some music videos playing before the lights turned off. You looked around and to the male. Seeing such excitement in the males eyes as it was in yours.

And when the concert started it was like a sense of bliss and euphoria. The amazing sounds of the singers voices. It all was truly amazing. You sing along, got sweaty, screamed your heart out, with the male beside you. Holding your hand so the two of you wouldn’t get lost in the crowds of fans. It was all truly something. Truly perfect. Once the concert was over, the two of you made your way out of the building, a big smile on your face. “Babe..?” You mumbled as you looked at him, the male stopped in his tracks, looking at you as he hummed.

“I’m cold..” you whispered, rubbing your arms as the wind blew past you. Keeho laughed and took off your jacket. “I told you to bring a jacket.” He started and you rolled your eyes playfully. “I told you, it was either my outfit or my comfort, and I *had* to pick my outfit, it’s so nice!” You laughed and gently shoved his shoulder as he took off his jacket, allowing you to put it on. You wrapped it carefully around your arms as the jacket basically swallowed you, warming up your body in an instant.

The male softly took your hand and led you to the car, opening the door for you and getting in himself. When the two of you were ready, you both left and headed back to your shared apartment.

The two of you changed your clothes into something comfortable. Fangirling and boying about the concert as you laid comfortably on his chest and his long thin fingers rubbed shapes alongside your arm. “Thank you for today babe..” you mumbled, your eyes falling heavy. He smiled and shook his head, his chest slowly rising and falling as his eyes were closed as well. “It’s no problem, I’m glad we got to do it.” He replied. Your soft breath hitting his neck slightly as you moved your head to that area, a small kiss on his neck before you mumbled the words.

“It was perfect.”

THEO ‹𝟹 | 테오

Fishing was truly not your thing. No matter how much you tried to get used to it. Especially since it was one of your boyfriend’s favorite hobbies and past times. You still weren’t thrilled with the idea of going, but you wanted to at least experience it with him. Once. At least.

“I promise, it’s not as gross as you think!” He said excitedly. You nodded and smiled, looking at him. Doing things he loved always excited him, especially since you two always did things you liked.

“Do I have to touch the worms?” You asked. “Not unless you want to” he smiled and parked at a place. “We have to walk down from here” the male said as you nodded. Once the car was turned off, the both of you got out as Theo grabbed everything you needed. You grabbed the poles and the two of you followed a trail down to the fishing spots. A slight place covered in bush and trees. The spot was shady so the two of you wouldn’t get baked alive in the sun.

You also hauled the cooler that kept your snacks and drinks inside of it before setting the cooler down near the two chairs that Theo unfolded. It was peaceful, it was only you two so you could have some peace and this could be the perfect date for the two of you.

Sitting on the chair, you leaned back as Theo took off the lid to the worms. “I heard these always work better to catch fish, hopefully we can catch something for dinner” he laughed. Your eyes being glued to the lid. “I don’t know.. about that. But maybe” you laughed and leaned over.

Even though you were disgusted, you were still slightly fascinated with it. You watched as Theo’s skillful hands maneuvered his way through the dirt in the small can, wrapping the worm around the hook and tossing it into the water, leaning it on something sturdy so he could help you, who currently had your line tangled.

He laughed at you, helping you with the line. “Want to touch the worm?” The male asked as you shook your head fast. Did you really want to? Maybe. Were you going to? No. “Never, can you do it please~” you gently jumped as you looked at the slimy things, dig into the dirt, poor insects.

Theo laughed and nodded, doing the same thing for you he did for him. You stood up and picked up the pole once it was ready, tossing it into the water, using the techniques the male taught you. And some of the videos you watched on YouTube.

The rest of the fishing trip went okay, Theo attempting to throw some worms on you. You catching a fish. “Let’s put it back!” You shouted with soft eyes. “But we can sell him, make money~” Theo pleaded as the fish flopped around in the bucket. You shook your head and pouted.

“But he probably has a family, please.” You said, grabbing into his arm, gently tugging it before Theo gave in and let you toss the fish back into the water.

After that, every fish that Theo caught, he made sure to calculate it, take a picture and toss it back into the water after he’d look at your soft eyes. “I’m never taking you with me again” the male joked as the both of you carried the things back to the car. Setting them in their correct places so nothing would tip over. Theo shut the trunk of the car and wrapped his arms around your waist, his eyes staring at you. “I’m glad you at least decided to come with me..” he mumbled, pressing a small kiss to your lips.

“Even though everything was gross, I had the time of my life..” you started, pressing a kiss to his lips back. “But next time, I’m picking the date.”

JIUNG ‹𝟹 | 지웅

"I have nothing to wear!" You shouted, leaning your head on the closet door, puffing your cheeks. Your boyfriend, putting lotion on his body after his shower. You were currently wrapped in a towel, your hair dripping slightly as you checked around. It wasn't like you *didn't* have anything to wear. But you truthfully did need new clothes. Jiung laughed, his smile being seen even in the back of your mind.

His towel was wrapped around his waist as he looked at you. "Babe, there are so many clothes there, you can find something" he laughed. You looked at him, a slight glare. "Says the one with the best clothes" you frowned, staring at your clothes. "All of these suck.. old, old, holes, old. I have nothing!" You shouted, a slight fit being thrown by you.

Jiung hummed and sat on the edge of the bed. "How about we go shopping for you, get some food. That way we can have a nice day and you can get clothes out of it?" The male suggested as you turned around to look at him. Thinking, that wouldn't be such a bad idea. "Okay!" You shouted. He smiled and stood up, walking over to you and pressing a kiss to your lips. "Get dressed so we can go" he spoke softly and you nodded. A smile on your face.

You loved shopping, especially with Jiung. By the evident look of your outfit, you loved his clothes. His style. Truthfully everything about him. You were both now walking into a favorite store of yours. Jiung set on finding you some new clothes. The fabric of his jacket clinging to you. Picking something out he thought you might like. A black jean jacket. You looked at it and smiled. "Oh, that's cute! It would go amazing with my black skirt" you mentioned and he nodded, very well accustomed to the skirt all a little too well.

You continued looking around the store. Finding jackets, t-shirts, hats and pants to please your mind and body. Jiung was carrying the bags. Looking around the store, finding a cute and sparkly 4 leaf clover. "Oh, this is cute.." the male said with a soft smile as you looked at the clover. "It would look so good on you" you smiled, gently taking it. "I'll buy it for you" you smiled and he nodded. "Thank you" he said with a soft mumble.  The two of you continued to look around the store for a while.

Finally checking out after the two of you found everything you could possibly get. Spending at least 3 months rent on clothes. You carried a few bags even though Jiung refused to let you, smiling softly. The two of you made your way to the food court in the mall, getting some food as the two of you sat down, your head resting on the males shoulder.

"Thank you for today, you're such a sweetheart" you said softly, a soft kiss being placed on your cheek. "It's okay baby, I enjoy spending the time with you, and spoiling you" the male said as you chuckled. And it was true. You were both spoiled in love and in presents.

The two of you enjoyed the rest of your food, smiling as you took a piece of his food, taking a bite. "Hey~!" He shouted slightly, chuckling before humming. Doing the same to you.

Going back to the apartment the two of you shared, going back and trying on your clothes. Jiung leaned back and watched you try on the clothes, giving small opinions, majority of them good.

You laughed as you gently grabbed one of his bucket hats, the black one. Making your way over to him as you sat in his lap, his arms instantly wrapping around your waist. You gently placed the pin into the center of the hat, putting it on the males head before placing a soft kiss on his nose and his lips. "There you go. Something lucky for my lucky boy.." you said softly.

He looked at you, his eye smile bright before he gently pulled out a small necklace. Something you must've not noticed. "And a perfect necklace for my perfect woman." He said. Your heart fluttering as you looked at him with only love. Your heart was full, and you loved it.

INTAK ‹𝟹 | 인탁

You could see the frustration on your boyfriend's face. How his eyes furrowed, his fist clenched the pencil in his hand. He was currently in his home office, soft music in the background playing.  He had to write a song, but for some reason he'd been staring at the paper for a while. Only a few words could be seen.

Why was he having such a hard time?

He didn't even notice you leaning on the door frame before he groaned causing a frustrated face wipe to his face, hoping to relax the tension.

You didn't know if it was a good time to go to him and try to help soothe his distraught-ness, or to wait until he noticed you. In thought, Intak had already spun his chair around. His eyes softening when he saw you, his arms gently opening as you walked to him, sitting on his lap as his hands wrapped securely around your waist to hold you there. "Sorry.. I didn't want to interrupt you.." you said softly as he shook your head, dismissing your words.

"You're fine honey, I can't even think of anything to write right now.. so I'd rather spend time with you" he spoke, looking up at you before his head laid on your chest, his breath hitting your open skin as you brought your hands up and rubbed the back of the males head. To him, the feeling of you just rubbing his head, holding him or even just hearing your voice was like 1,000 pounds being lifted off of his shoulder.

"How about, we go out and do something hon?"  He looked at you. "I need to write.." he mumbled and you gently shook your head. "You can't think of anything right now, how about we just walk, get something to eat and maybe something will come to mind hmm?" You said, gently getting off his lap before he puffed his cheeks.

"I do-" he started but you shook your head and gave him a look. He reluctantly got up, nodding. "Okay, but let's be home before 8" he said and you nodded, running off to the room to put on something a little more appropriate than your ass cheek revealing shorts as Intak did the same. Spotting you getting ready and sliding on one of his shirts. "You're so cute." He mumbled as you laughed and shook your head.

Before the two of you knew it you were walking down the streets of Seoul, hand in hand as you looked for a restaurant to eat at, wondering what it was you both were in the mood for.

"How about fried chicken?" The male asked as you shook your head, a soft pout on your lips. "No.. we had that last night" you spoke as he nodded. "Yeah, but you can never go wrong with chicken." You wheezed the males hand. "Stop trying to get home, you are out here to look for your lyrics, look for a muse." Intak sighed, you were right. What would he do without you?

The two of you finally found your way to the restaurant you were heading to. You had already made up your mind on the food you were getting. Beef and broccoli. Yum~

Intak led you to a seat before he went up to order for the two of you as you watched him closely. He was so hard working, and hard on himself. Sometimes too hard on yourself and it made you sad. Watching him stress about lyrics. Erasing, deleting and having to take deep and long breathes just to come back and do it all over again.

Once Intak came back over, you made sure to do any and everything to take his mind off of writing.  You didn't want him to stress too much. Once the food got to the both of you, you ate and chatted. Mostly about random things. Things you wanted to do. And even having drawing competitions.

"No way, I'm such a great drawer!" You shouted, puffing out your cheeks. Intak laughed as he looked at your smile, gently leaning over and cupping your cheeks. "Your smile is what gets me through the day." You blushed and cleared your throat, pushing him gently. "Mmm stop it. You're only saying that because I'm your girlfriend." You rolled your eyes playfully. The male hummed. "You're right." You gasped and he gently pulled you close as you pushed his chest and then hugged him.

This was one of the best times the two of you have had in a while. It was perfect.

After the two of you ate, you got some dessert from an ice cream truck, making your way back to your shared apartment. Your hand on his.

( time skip )

You woke up to the sounds of humming. Getting out of bed you didn't spot Intak beside you. Feeing the empty space before you headed to where the soft hums were coming from. Intak's work space. You stood by the door. "Babe..?" Softly escaping your lips as he looked at you, a bright smile on his face. "What are you doing up at..?" You stopped to look at the clock. "3 am." You stated.

He smiled and ushered you to come and sit on his lap which you gladly did, resting your head on his shoulder, the sleepiness still evident in your movements. "After our date I got inspired.." he started, a small sleepy smile creeping on your face. "And I realized, you're my muse Y/N, I write better when you inspire me. Your smile, your voice. Just everything about you." He spoke.

You sat up to face with, a big smile on your face as your eyes opened. He looked at you and smiled. "That's the most romantic thing you've said to me all month." You joked and he playfully rolled his eyes. You cupped his cheeks. "I'm glad I could help."

The male gently leaned in and kissed you, your lips connecting to his before you gently hugged him.

You closed your eyes and let the male continue to work. Not daring to move a muscle so Intak could work and you could sleep.

SOUL ‹𝟹 | 소울

You and Soul stopped by your favorite food place. "What should we get?" You asked, your head laying on his shoulder as the two of you stood in line, gently slides up whenever people would place their order.

"Potatoes.. fries" he mumbled, arms wrapped comfortably around your waist. "Fries?" "Fries." He said and you nodded. Once it was the both of your turns, you ordered a meal for the both of you. Hamburger, basket of fries and two drinks.

Once paid and given your food, the two of you headed to the car, making your way down to the Han River where they were playing music. Multiple people out enjoying their time with significant others, family, pets and even their own children. It always warmed your heart to see others having an amazing time.

Soul carried the white picnic basket that carried the food, as well as a blanket the two of you would be sitting on. After a long week of you working, Soul at practice. The two of you needed a break.

You sat down the picnic basket after taking it from him and the two of you laying the blanket out across the grass. Placing yourself onto the seat, you quickly dug the food out of the bag and set it neatly on the blanket as Soul took a seat beside you.

Gently taking out the food and evenly distributing it between the both of you, you started to eat, enjoying the scenery as you watch Soul stuff a couple of fries in his mouth before he stood up, his body grooving to the music.

"Oh? Lunch and a show?" You teased and laughed as you took a sip of the drink, watching your boyfriend groove and dance to the music. Soul laughed at you, leaning down and grabbing his burger as you stood up, grooving your body to the music that was playing. Hearing the laughter of small kids and just people having a good time in general, you truly enjoyed it.

Soul wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in, taking his thumb and wiping some of the sauce from your lip. "Messy." He laughed and you rolled your eyes, gently getting out of his hold.

The two of you sat down, sung to some of the songs and finished the food. Enjoying the sunset before you both packed up and went back to your shared place. Your mind far from any type of problems you had. This day was a perfect day. One you could enjoy with Soul and you planned to keep it that way. It was perfect.

JONGSEOB ‹𝟹 | 종섭

Jongseob grabbed the coins, looking at you as he jingled the cup full with golden tokens to you. “Really, Chuck E. Cheese out of all places?” You laughed, gently ruffling his hair. He gently rolled his eyes and swatted your hands away. “I haven’t been in a while, I think it’ll be fun. Come on!”

You used to come to Chuck E. Cheese a lot as a kid, it was somewhat of a pretty fun memory. “Okay, what should we do first?” You asked as he looked around. Spotting the racing seats open. “Let’s race, if i win. I get to style your hair for a week and vice versa if you win” he says and you him, going to the seats.

Jongseob entered two tokens into the slots, you both picking your characters and starting. The male tried to cheat, reaching over and attempting to tickle you, you moving your body swiftly. But it only backfired on him, causing him to become in 5th place. “Yeah pay attention” you shouted, laughing as you continued to drive, moving slightly to the side.

The game finished and you came in first place. Gasping and laughing as you looked over at the sulking boy. “You will be okay~” you laughed, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Fine, but nothing too crazy, I don’t want the guys picking on me~” he groaned and you nodded, agreeing to keep it at a minimum… maybe.

The two of you decided on another game. Basketball. Though Jongseob had a bit more of an advantage in height. The two of you continued to shoot the balls, taking your chance in attempting to distract him, but it didn’t work. Hun still beating you by 20 points.

“Ha-! You thought” he laughed and you rolled your eyes, shaking your head as he leaned down and collected the tickets.

You rolled your eyes as you grabbed his tickets, keeping them in the small purse you were carrying.

You and Jongseob played a few more games; ski ball, ticket collector, fishing, weasels hitting games. All in attempt for a big stuffed animal on the top hanging on the ceiling. “We have to get it” you would say each time your eyes glanced at it. Jongseob agreeing. “We can just put it in the middle of the bed” he smiled, and you agreed.

At the end, the two of you collected around 2,000 tickets. Being able to buy the capybara stuffed animal and a small stick of bubbles. Though you didn’t care for the bubbles too much as you clung to the stuffed animal. Once you got in the car, you tossed the capybara stuffed animal in the backseat gently. Jongseob smiled as the two of you talked about the date over the small sound of music in the background. Your head beating softly from the small headache you had.

But none the less, today was an amazing day.

[superblysubpar]

<- part six | part eight -> | series masterlist

chapter summary: No more bets.

the song: Read Your Mind by Sabrina Carpenter

also for your listening pleasure: Girl Can't Help It by Journey, Open Your Heart by Madonna, U Got The Look by Prince, and The Lady in Red by Chris de Burgh

5,328 words | please see masterlist for gen warnings / brief descriptions of scars-previous head injury / SPICE/SMUT - really just some dirty talk and a teensiet tiniest start to oral (reader receiving) | my blog is 18+

Hawkins, Indiana - the past

  His hand was in yours, and then it wasn’t. 

  “Well, well, well,” a voice sneered in front of you as you blinked at the boy who just dropped your hand at the sound of it. “What do we have here, Stevie?”

  A group of boys around your age leaned against a falling apart fence just outside of the ride, eyes surveying you up and down, then looking at Steve Harrington standing next to you. The leader of the pack a face full of freckles and a grin that made your stomach unsettled when he pointed it at you and took a step forward.

  “I’m Tommy, and you,” he grinned wider, like if he showed off more teeth, he’d placate you into thinking you enjoyed his company, “Well, you must be new to Hawkins. Think I’d remember a face like yours.”

  “Knock it off Hagan,” Steve grit out of his teeth, a fist clenched at his side. 

  “I’m…I’ll…” you stuttered out at the boy named Tommy, backing away and looking at Steve as you did. “It was…I’ll see you around?”

  You scrambled away from the boys as Steve took a step towards you, but Tommy’s voice rang out, making his head turn. 

  “Does Harrington have a little girlfriend? Gonna share all the juicy details with us, Stevie?” 

  “What? No!” He answered too quickly, cheeks pink, no longer looking at you. “She’s just some stupid girl, I got stuck with her on the ferris wheel…”

  You didn’t stick around to hear more, swiping at your wet cheeks with the back of your hand. 

  Glittery green and gold smeared across it, freshly smudgable after Steve Harrington held your hand until it was over. 

A house on Cornwallis Street - Sunday

  Your hands shifted on the steering wheel, even though the car was in park. Clammy and shaking as you rubbed them on your denim shorts and took a deep breath. With your window rolled down you couldn’t help but smile at the sound of Journey coming from the backyard, the large splash that followed the shout of ‘Don’t you dare Henderson!’. Peals of laughter and the distinct smell of something grilling only added to elements encouraging you to join them. 

  But you were still sitting in your car. 

  You didn’t question it, when after the party last night, Eddie didn’t drive you home, but to the shop, dangling your keys in front of a shocked face as he proclaimed it was finally fixed.

  “But…I didn’t pay you, I thought you couldn’t…” 

  Eddie had waved you off and smiled, “I’ve been working a lot.” He dropped the keys in your lap and grinned wider, “Besides, Harringon’ll be paying me three hundred bucks tomorrow.”

  You looked down at your thighs, thinking about who’s hands had just been pushing them apart a few minutes ago as Eddie quietly probed, “Right?”

“Of course.” You nodded, telling yourself that technically you and Eddie had won the bet.

  Nobody had slept with anyone. 

  Which is what you tell yourself again as you take another deep, bravery seeking breath and step out of your car. 

  Each step on the sidewalk then up the driveway is a little easier, your chest feeling a little lighter as the laughter and music only gets louder.

  But then you see the sign. 

  The same color of the suit you have in your bag.

  The same color he told you he can’t concentrate when you wear it. 

  Bright, bold, outlining four white letters.

  SOLD. 

  You’re still looking at it when the door swings open, Robin greeting you, dripping wet from the pool and a slice of watermelon in her hand.

“Finally! I’m outnumbered, and Max is too busy canoodling with Lucas and I need more girl power!”

  She grabs your arm and pulls you into the Harrington’s foyer as a louder call of, “I told you, as soon as Lucas apologizes for what he did-“

  “And I told you, that I cannot apologize for something if I don’t know what I’m apologizing for!”

  The pair walk out of a room on one side of the foyer as they argue, Max mumbling under her breath as they exit your sights and into the den.

  “You know exactly what you did.”

  Robin rolls her eyes and points up the stairs, “This downstairs bathroom is all packed up and,” she makes quotes with her fingers around the watermelon as she recites, “ ‘It’s cleaned and if any of you idiots fuck it up, you’re dead’ , but there’s one by Steve’s room, change and come help me seek vengeance on the boys!”

  She’s gone as fast as she arrived, the silence of the house now overpowering, but at least it gives you space to take a moment to breathe and collect your thoughts.

  Steve’s moving. 

  Why didn’t he tell you?

  Your fingers glide on the wood banister as you climb the stairs, something sitting heavy in your gut from the more important question that’s gnawing at you.

  Why does it matter that he didn’t? 

  Once you find the bathroom, your fingers tug on red nylon and strings. The suit you rummaged around for in your drawer this morning pointing out the glaringly obvious answer. It matters he didn’t tell you because-

  It was a good suit, that was the only reason why it was picked for today.

  Not because of where you were wearing it.

  Not because of the boy who lived there. 

  Because he definitely still does live there, at least for the time being.

  It’s easy to spot his room when you exit the bathroom, bare feet padding across hard woods as you tug the hem of your white tshirt over your hips a little lower. Worried you shouldn’t be walking around the house so uncovered despite the fact that you’re about to be even more so outside in the pool, when you catch your reflection in the mirror above his dresser. 

  The room is in shambles, half packed you assume. Boxes open, and only half filled, litter the floor, the white plaid wallpapered walls bare, whatever hung on the nails left behind now packed away. Your fingers linger on the top of the dresser, thumb catching on his watch, a Polaroid of him and Robin, the worn brown leather of his wallet. A tight squeeze pulls at something in your chest when the slip of paper with the name ‘Brit’ and a heart shifts beneath it. 

  You can’t help but wonder if he called that number that night like he said he would. 

  Wonder if he took her out to a movie, held her hand, let everyone know that Steve Harrington was on a date with her.

  Your bag drops on his bed that’s unmade with sheets that match the walls as you wonder if she was here too. As you wonder how many other girls have been in this room, this bed. 

  A loud shout outside, just below his window makes you jump, pulling you out of the spiral of doubt you’ve fallen into and down the stairs. 

  The cream carpet is plush beneath your bare feet, the framed photos are gone, the desk as well, so nothing stands between you and the sliding glass doors out to the pool.

  It’s a different view than the last time you were here. The bright turquoise littered with even brighter inflatables and swimsuits. It’s warm, it’s light, it’s loud, as bodies splash in it and compete with the radio playing top hits for the loudest thing. Eddie’s shaking his curls out back and forth all over Robin who’s shrieking and running past him. 

  The thought of stepping outside and arriving late has you turning into the kitchen, searching for something your hands can fiddle with before joining the party. 

  Which is how Steve Harrington’s lungs finally give out, and he dies. 

  He knows he’s not actually dying, but he’s sure that the process has to feel eerily similar to this.

  He rounded the corner to find his fridge door opened, the glow of the interior light silhouetting around your curves hidden under a white shirt making his breath stutter in his chest. And as you bend at the waist, red fabric cut high and only climbing higher, reveals the perfect swell of your ass and his lungs fail to function, like one’s collapsing because he’s been shot, or he’s taking on water and they don’t know to expel the air anymore. 

  “Jesus Christ.”

  It slips out of him much like the yelp the words startle out of you, the shoot up of your body involuntary, causing your head to smack into the top of the fridge and a litany of curses to tumble out of your lips. 

  Steve rushes over as you hold your head and spin, blinking and looking dizzy.

  “Shit, shit, sorry.” He’s across the room in seconds, hands cupping your cheeks and tilting you gently while his eyes focus on your forehead, inspecting. He frowns and moves to the left slightly, towards the sink,  though he leaves one of his hands in contact with your skin. 

  The furrow of his brow deepens as he dampens a towel and you try to breathe out of your nose and in with your mouth so you don’t focus on how his normal smell is stronger with his shirt off and mixed with sunscreen and chlorine that clings to his skin. Skin that shines with a sheen from each, that’s somehow not gross, but tantalizing. So much of that skin on display revealing more freckles than you can fathom counting. Skin that looks more tan from the dark chest hair curled against it or the swim trunks that sit low on his hips. 

  Steve looks at you with raised eyebrows and you realize he’s asked a question and you absolutely didn’t hear it. 

  “Um,” you swallow, your tongue taking up too much room in your mouth, “Wh-what?”

  Steve’s lips twitch as he stands fully in front of you again, damp cloth raised as he whispers, “Something distracting you, honey?”

  Your throat has something stuck in it, and no amount of clearing it seems to fix the problem. You focus on the freckle just to the left of his lips instead of his smug eyes as you admit, “Can’t concentrate when you wear that color.”

  The reward of his low laugh and smile has you wondering if someone hand sculpted his lips and cupid’s bow. 

  “I’ll be sure to wear it every chance I get just to torture you then,” he murmurs while fingers adjust your chin into the light. Your back rests against the center island, legs sandwiched between his spread ones so he can raise the cloth to your skin, apologizing with his eyes as he tacks on, “Only fair, since you woke up and decided evil today.”

  The damp material of his swim trunks sends a shiver up your spine when it hits your thighs, and your hands grab his waist in a wince when the cloth makes contact with your still fairly fresh head wound. You’re in a staring contest with a gold chain around his neck as you fib, “This is the only swimsuit I own. Just happens to be red.”

  Steve finishes with your forehead, but two fingers curl under your chin and lift so you have to look at him as he speaks through a smirk.

  “You’re pretty cute when you lie.”

  “Come on Steve,” you whisper, fingers curling into his hips without thought, “You’re better than cheesy lines and rookie moves like this. Besides, the bet’s over. We can go back to hating each other now.”

  He shakes his head, nose bumping yours as he does and he exhales, “Never hated you.”

  Your swallow is loud as he leans closer, one hand on your hip and fingers playing with the so to speak fire of the strings holding your suit together as you offer, “Despised?”

  Another shake of his head, another step closer so your lower halves are pressed together and your eyelashes are fluttering. Your head falls back with a gasp as his mouth trails along your jaw, hot breath and wet lips against it as you stutter out, “De-detest?”

  He responds into your skin, just below your ear, something that sounds like the word, “Never.”

  His name leaves you breathlessly as his tongue lightly licks down the side of your neck, lips following in a delicate brush. 

  “Steve-”

  He hums into your collar, nose dragging around the curve of it while your hands grip his sides. “Stop saying my name like that honey, or I’m gonna get down on my knees and make you say it much,” he nips at your earlobe, “Much, louder.”

  The space between your legs throbs, thighs push even tighter together at the thought of Steve’s mouth there. 

  “Steve,” you scold, cheeks warm, body even more so in all the places it touches his. 

  “Baby,” he groans, nose knocking your cheek, “What did I just say?”

  He starts to lower himself, hands drifting so too, on the outside of your thighs. Brushing bare skin and aching to push it further, cup your ass and roll your hips against his. Especially when your fingers hold his jaw in place so he has to look at you. Only slightly distracted by how kissable your lips are as they say, “You’re moving.”

  Steve shakes his head no and you laugh again and he wonders how many more times he can make that sound come out of you. 

  “Harrington, there’s literally a sold sign in your front yard.”

  He leans in closer, unable to resist the chance to taste your lips again, to feel their lingering sting against them all day. He’s got this insane thought that he wishes you were wearing lipstick, so it could be smeared against him, marking up his mouth and neck, shit, even his dick, so everyone knows he’s yours, it’s yours.  

  “You worried I’m gonna be too far away?” He somehow manages to ask through the fog of images of your lips surrounding his cock, big eyes blinking at him as you-

  “I’m actually worried it isn’t far enough,” you swallow around the tight feeling in your chest.

  His forehead knocks yours, hands squeeze your waist and then climb higher on your curves as he tsks, “Even cuter. You gotta quit lying baby.” But he relents some of the upperhand, the thought of you being worried about him leaving making him admit, “I’m crashing at Robin’s for a bit. And we’re trying to save up for a place together.”

  “Oh,” you nod, distracted by the way his nose traces the bridge of yours, how his eyelashes flutter and the freckles on his cheeks stand out more from a morning in the sun as he does. “Th-that’s good.”

  “Yeah?” The corner of his lips rising in a smile making them brush yours. 

  “Mhm,” you hum, “So you can take Brit on that date still.”

  “Who?” He blinks, cheeks turning pink as your fingers scrape up his stomach and through his chest hair. 

  “Brit,” your eyebrows raise, “Smells like peaches, and giggles and dots her eyes with hearts? The picture perfect girl to take out around town and proudly hold hands with?”

  “Again,” Steve leans the few centimeters closer, whispering against your lips, “Who?”

  You push at his chest, as much as it pains you to do so, needing the distance from the intoxicating mouth that smells like mint and lemonade. But

Steve remains strong in his position, fingers curl around your ear and hold your neck in place gently as he speaks like each word might spook you into running.

  “I’m staying in Hawkins. I have no idea who you’re talking about. The bet is over. Can you stop being so stubborn and let me kiss you like I’ve been wanting to since we were twelve?”

  Your heart rumbles low and slow, like thunder rolling in, it cracks in your chest like lightening hit it. Every ounce of your body is buzzing, like the strike tore your body in two. One part that can’t believe you’re hearing him say it and another that wants to run even though you know it doesn’t strike the same place twice. The fear of being caught in the storm with no way out has you stalling. 

  “Ask me nicely.”

  Steve laughs, and you wonder how you never noticed how much you like making that sound bubble out of him. 

  Or how much you like the way he licks his lips before he says something important. 

  “Please,” he murmurs against your mouth, “Can I kiss you?”

  Your lips part the same time a shriek calls from the den, “Steve! The food is burning!”

  He curses under his breath, hand grabbing yours as he pulls you through the kitchen and into the den. 

  His frown only grows as the smell of burning food does when the two of you exit the sliding door. He tugs you with him across the warm pavement of the patio, the cool summer breeze has goosebumps arriving on your legs as he shouts at the curly haired boy fanning a smoking grill.

“Henderson! You had one fucking job, man! These aren’t just burning they’re-“

  “Scorched,” Lucas supplies around a cough, smacking the air with his hat. 

  “Torched,” Mike pipes up, squinting and pinching his nose closed.

  “Dead,” El delivers morosely.

  Will snorts and covers his mouth and Max mutters under her breath, “Imbeciles.” 

  But then she’s smiling at you.

  Then they’re all smiling at you, even Eddie and Robin who stand just beyond them, staring at Steve and yours intertwined hands. 

  The attention on it makes your hand feel too heavy in his and you go to slip it out, but Steve only squeezes it tighter, waving his other at them, “Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Now get lost, or I’m not making more and you can eat these disgusting things.”

  The “kids” take off and Steve turns to you, thumb swiping over the back of your hand, cheeks pink and swallowing loudly. “Um, about my really nicely asked question that was rudely-“

  “Yes.”

  The just as interrupted response stuns him as much as it does you. But when he smiles, and takes your cheeks in both of his hands, and leans in slowly, you’re sure the answer was the right one, the storm clouds dissipate, the threat of another crack gone. 

  This kiss, is like rain. 

  The good kind of rain. Slow. Steady. Steve’s lips capture yours sure, calmly, breathing out just as the pair of his mold around your top one. He holds them through an exhale against your cheek as your hands fall to his chest naturally. You can feel the thud of his heart beneath your palm as his mouth parts to do it again, deeper, stronger. Each beat against your skin the rain hitting a window until it’s so natural, so steady, it’s a simple background noise. 

  It’s only when loud whoops and whistles break the calm that you hear yours in your ears and feel his heart again, the calm disrupted. Your cheeks warm beneath his palms as he kisses you again, a chaste and over too quick peck around a smile. 

  That pesky thing is still stuck in your throat, suddenly unsure how limbs and words and human things work anymore. You stumble a step back and trip on a pool noodle when your stomach flutters with a swarm of butterflies intent on trying to escape. He catches your waist before you fall as you gesture to the water, “Alright, well, that pool’s not gonna swim in itself.”

  Steve smiles, but he narrows his eyes, squeezing at the outside of your thighs, “Honey, I thought we were done being mean to each other.”

  Your eyes blink at him, confused, butterflies constructing a roller-coaster in your stomach now as well, as you ask, “How is me swimming being mean?”

  “Kissing me like that then parading around in a little red bikini?” He swallows as his fingers play with the strings of said suit, whispering, “Mean. Incorrigible, baby.”

  This feels surreal, his hands on you, calling you baby while your friends are only a few feet away and absolutely watching. Even more so when you whisper, “Big brain word.”

  Steve taps your chin, lifting it as he asks, “What’s my prize?”

  Looking into Steve’s, Buttercup’s description of Westley’s eyes being like the sea after a storm can’t help but float through your mind. But Steve’s are a lot more like the forest after one. Wet and darkened earth soaking up all it was just given, richer in color and waiting to be explored. 

  “What do you want?” 

  Steve grins, his mouth parts, but then you’re both being drenched with water, two buckets dumped over your heads as you shout in protest against the cold. 

  Robin and Max yell something about the fire in the kitchen being too hot and they needed to put it out as they run away from you both with laughter. 

  You peel off the white shirt that clings to your body now as you mumble something about payback. Steve groans at the reveal of your body in only the suit. It’s easy to look over your shoulder as you walk away from him and ask, “Tell me later?”

  Even easier to shove a grinning Eddie towards the pool as you walk past and mumble, “Shut up.”

  He grips at your shoulder as he flails, pulling you in with him, your double splash drowning out your shriek and the beginning of Madonna’s Open Your Heart booming out of the stereo. 

  When you resurface, swiping water from your eyes and laughing, you turn to find Steve again and aren’t surprised when he’s already looking at you. Your arms rest on the ledge when you swim up to the side and mock his voice, calling up to him.

  “Take a picture, it’ll last longer!”

  He sticks his tongue out at you as you laugh and swim away, but he can’t help but wonder where he packed his Polaroid, and if he can get you alone long enough to snap several his eyes only photos. 

  He’s still thinking it, later, as the sun inches closer to the other side of the sky, and you’re relaxed on a lounger next to Robin. 

Eyes hidden from him behind sunglasses, hands resting on your stomach, brushing back and forth over your skin as you roll your neck. 

  Prince’s U Got The Look fills the now much quieter backyard, the kids all having disappeared under the excuse of getting movie snacks and a video rental from Keith an hour ago. Robin’s voice interrupts the lyrics with, “How much you wanna bet they’re at the arcade and they aren’t coming back with the snacks?”

  You groan and sit up, “No more bets. But,” a sigh leaves you, “Yeah. I’ll go order a pizza? Steve’s got a billion contraband rental’s downstairs too. I’m sure there’s something halfway decent in there.”

  “Ha-ha,” he says dryly, watching you stretch has him sinking lower in the pool so only his eyes show. He squeezes them shut when your top slips just a smidge higher as your arms raise, the curve of each breast peeking out from the bottom and giving him a heart attack. 

  He’s certain that’s exactly what’s happening when he opens them to find you slipping your white shirt on. Only it’s not your white shirt.

  It’s his.

  Steve watches the collar linger on your nose, then slip over your chin as you smile at him and hook your thumb over your shoulder, “I’m - phone…pizza.” Stumbling over your words and shuffling towards the house quickly. 

  He waits exactly sixty seconds before he’s swimming towards the ladder and climbing out. Eddie’s voice taunts from the tube he’s floating in, with his arms behind his head, even with closed eyes he looks smug, “And where are you going?”

  “To…help. With the calling for pizza.” He towels off quickly, Robin snorts and Eddie makes a booing sound. 

  Robin calls from her lounger, “Don’t say we never did anything for you, Dingus!”

  Steve slides the glass door on their snickering, the house quiet and much cooler than the Summer outside. He glances in the kitchen, the hallway, searching for you, when he hears a creak upstairs. 

  He finds you in his room, in his shirt still, sunglasses pushed onto the top of your head as you sift through a bag and pull out a pair of denim shorts.

  “Hi,” he whispers, when you look up at him.

  “Hey,” you smile, voice quiet too, “Why are we whispering?”

  “I-“ he starts quiet and clears his throat, returning to a normal volume, “I don’t know. Guess I thought if I spoke too loud I might wake up from this great dream.”

  The grin spreads on your lips and you shake your head, “Wow. That’s bad, even for you, Steve.”

  He takes a few steps towards you as you continue to shake your head with a smile, only stopping when he asks, “Say my name again? Please?”

  Steve takes the shorts from your hands, dropping them on the ground as you murmur, gently, “Steve.”

  His tongue darts over his bottom lip before he says, “Can I tell you what I want for a prize now?”

  You’re only able to manage a small, “Mhm,” between pressed together lips as your hands sweat and your stomach burns, and your chest constricts while his fingers toy with the strings of your swimsuit bottoms. 

  He kisses you, slowly, licking out over the seam of your lips until you open for him. His hands guide you backwards gently until he’s climbing over your body on his bed and Prince’s voice fades into Chris de Burgh’s. 

  His body presses against yours, weight heavy and making your eyelids flutter as his hand cups your cheek, then traces your shoulder, the curve of your breast down to your hip. Your stomach burns with want, fingers dig into his hair as he releases your lips and kisses your chin, your chest through his shirt. He only travels lower, pushing it up and kissing your stomach, along the seam of your suit. Your legs rise on either side of his head, fingers leaving his hair to curl into his sheets that surround you and fill the space with a cedar and mint haze. 

  “St-steve,” you hiccup as he nips at the inside of your thigh. 

  He moans, palms pressing you open wider, mouth leaving a wet and hot trail of kisses and breaths up each leg. This wasn’t the plan, he wanted to take it slow, but he can’t help it anymore. He speaks into your stomach, kissing your skin between every few words. 

  “Baby, please, can I taste you?” His fingers tug on the strings of your suit and his vision blurs when you make a sound that sounds like a whine and roll your hips, searching. He’s gone fully blind as you tug on his hair again, drunk off of you without a single taste. 

  “Yeah? Gonna let me put my mouth on you?” He noses at your cunt through the suit, dragging it up against the fabric, babbling anything that comes to his mind without a filter. “That what you want, honey? To come all over my tongue?”

  Your palms press to the bed as you sit up, fingers tugging at the mess of brown waves between your thighs when his tongue licks over your suit.

  Your mouth parts in a gasp, eyes fluttering from the barely there friction, the minimal release of the tension you’ve felt since the kitchen downstairs hours ago. 

  Steve looks up at the sound and nearly comes in his shorts, the image of your dazed eyes and pouting lips, the heave of your chest under his shirt having him really thinking about where his camera is again. 

  “Oh,” his voice falls into a teasing lilt, playing with his food before he eats it, “Look at you. You’re already fucked dumb and I haven’t done a thing.”

  Your body is engulfed in flames at the taunting words, somehow turned on and irritated in the same sentence.

  A Steve Harrington special skill, you think. 

  He curses the words almost immediately after they leave him, thinking he’s pushed it too far too fast but then you’re saying his name like that again, saying the word please so softly, so sincerely, his vision goes white and scratchy like the tape of all of his abilities to think clearly was just ejected from his brain. 

  Steve sits up with a groan, backing away from the bed with the shake of his head. 

  “You’re trouble,” he rasps, breathing heavily from across the room, back against his dresser.

  “What’s wrong?” The mood shift jarring and making your legs close, your arms cross over your chest in a hug, wondering what you did.

  “This,” he says then immediately waves his hands, “No, not like that! I-“ he cuts himself off with another groan, a hand swipes through his hair only making it messier. You clench around nothing at the wild hair, the pink cheeks, the dark chest hair and tan skin as he paces.

  “I wanna-“ he starts.

  “Harrington! Quit making out up there and bring down some of what I gave you! I’m tapped and the pizza guy’s here.”

  Steve curses and he spins on his dresser, grabbing his wallet.

  His wallet. 

  Bring down some of what I gave you.

  His shoulders hunch as he swears again, “Those…brats. I swear to god I’m gonna kill them.”

  He spins to find you yanking your shorts on, muttering, “I cannot believe I fucking fell for this.”

  “Fell for…what are you talking about?” Steve steps closer and you back up quickly, waving your hand at him.

  “Save it.” 

  He watches you storm out of the room, confused, and then looks down at the wallet and quickly rushes out after you, “No, no, no, honey it’s not-“

  “Don’t,” you spin on the stairs, voice icy, “Call me honey.”

  Steve takes another step down, pleading with his eyes as Eddie, Robin, and a stranger stand in the foyer, blinking up at the two of you. “Eddie didn’t give me money for that. He…” his hand swipes through his hair again, tongue over his lip as he lowers his voice, “Can we please go somewhere else to talk about this?”

  Your arms cross and Steve sighs.

  “He gave me money…for a different bet. Sort of bet. Bet is a bad word for it.”

  Something rumbles in your chest once more, though no storm was forecasted, you should have known there was bound to be more. 

  Steve’s lips pout as he waves his hand while explaining in a ramble, “After the bet started, I told them how much I actually liked you. And they agreed to help me. And if I got you to actually give me a chance, with their help of course, Eddie’d pay for a real date and Robin would cover our shifts when we went.”

  The explanation should be sweet, but all you can focus on is that Steve didn’t just have the guts to tell you right away. That your friends all helped manipulate you and lied. You start to wonder if the power even went out, if Eddie knew Steve would be at that party, if Robin put In Your Eyes on on purpose, the diner, your car being busted - all of it. 

  What was real between you and Steve, and what was made with movie magic? 

  The storm cracks in your chest, letting the first drops fall down your cheeks. 

  “I have to get out of here.”

  The calls of your name and his steps behind you on the stairs ignored as your vision blurs. 

  Leaving a boy standing in a yard on Cornwallis street while you disappear without your shoes again. 

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[bookyeom]

pairing: woozi x reader word count: 3.4K warnings: a couple of swears, kissing, alcohol, sad!reader, sad!jihoon

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

flatline by 5 seconds of summer

someone just like you, no one else i’m falling for the first time heart is gonna flatline now i can’t even look at you you’re like staring at the sunshine

You stand outside the crowded bar, grateful for the respite of fresh air after your time in the hazy, grimy dance club. There are only a few other patrons smoking or loitering outside as you wait for your ride to arrive, because it’s only midnight and inside, the party is just beginning.

Your head is buzzing pleasantly as you squint at your phone to check the time, the bright light from the screen making you wince. 12:07. If you were more sober, you would probably laugh at yourself. You’d gone out for a friend's birthday, but as soon as you had said the satisfactory hellos and gotten sufficiently drunk — which, arguably, didn’t take long — you’d been ready to go home. At midnight.

Your younger self is cringing.

As you gracefully get into your Uber and the driver begins to wind through the streets from the bar to your apartment, you pull up the last text thread on your phone. A smile is already on your lips just at the sight of the contact name.

Y/N [12:08am]: On my way hoooome. Hope u waited up for me!!

Your roommate shoots back a reply almost instantly, and you giggle at his response, your hand lifting to cover your mouth.

Jihoon-Ah [12:09am]: Ok. I’m still working, so keep your drunk ass quiet.

If you had it your way, he’d have come out with you. He knows all of your friends and you know all of his, but the club scene isn’t really his vibe. Plus, he has a music final due tomorrow – today? – and if there’s one thing he’s dead serious about, it’s his music.

Jihoon-Ah [12:13am]: Door’s unlocked. Be safe. 

You feel a flush spread across your cheeks as the second message comes through, and warmth floods all the way down to your toes.

Jihoon always manages to do that to you. Make you blush, make you feel warm and fuzzy, make you laugh. It’s funny, because to those who don’t know him, he seems quiet and private, and maybe even a little bit closed off. But with his friends, with those who get to know him, he’s brash and hilarious, and he cares a hell of a lot about those who care about him. He’s one of your best friends, your roommate, and quite possibly the love of your life. 

He doesn’t know about that last part, though, and you don’t plan on telling him anytime soon.

“Jihoon-ah,” you singsong as you finally make it into your shared apartment. He doesn’t turn to look at you from his spot on the couch, but you know he’s heard you come in by his grunt of acknowledgement. He remains where you left him, on the couch and hunched over his laptop, black hair mussed from where he’s probably been running his fingers through it as he agonises over his piece. You hastily take off your shoes before you cross the room, flopping down next to him unceremoniously. He glances at you briefly before turning back to his screen.

“Did you have fun?” He asks without looking at you. 

“Mhm,” you mumble back. It’s quiet for a few moments, the sound of his fingers clicking away lulling you into a daze until he speaks up once more.

“You should change,” he says, and you turn to stretch out your legs, pointing your toes. He glances at you again as you do so, eyebrows raised. “You took off the shoes, thank god, but you’re probably not comfortable in that dress anymore.”

You yawn, smiling at his thoughtful comment before replying, “It’s called fashion, Jihoon, look it up. Beauty is pain.”

“I already told you before you went out that you looked nice, don’t push it.”

You let out a laugh at that, and the quiet smile on his lips betrays any real irritation on his part. You watch him for a moment, your eyes lingering for far too long on the softness of his mouth as he focuses back on his work. 

You really hadn’t stood a single chance against falling in love with him, had you?

“I’m too tired to change,” comes your weak mumble. 

“Okay,” he responds easily, his attention back on his computer again. You take the opportunity to let your eyes trace over his profile one more time; his eyelashes, his nose, the curve of his lips. The quiet contentment remains on his face, and you’re suddenly overwhelmed knowing that you’re part of the reason for it.

Your eyes finally turn to wander across the laptop screen to see what he’s working on, your head falling onto his shoulder. You’d have done it sober too, but with a bit of alcohol in your system, you’re just slightly less nervous. You can feel him tense. Your eyes fall to where his hands have paused, and for a moment, you wonder if you’ve stressed him out with the physical contact, but then his shoulders relax. It takes only a few seconds before he begins clicking and typing again, and you can’t help but smile.

You’re looking at his computer and, subsequently, at his unfinished work. You can still recall when he’d been hesitant to let anyone see his music — let alone his drunk, touchy roommate. Yet somehow, you’ve managed to secure a coveted spot in the small group of people Jihoon trusts enough to share his work with. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t still freak out every time he shares a piece he’s working on – he does, and you know that – but he insists that he wants to show you anyway. You often feel a strong sense of satisfaction in knowing what that means. It means that he trusts you — and that’s an incredible privilege. 

You stay on the couch like that for a few more minutes as he continues to work, until a yawn overtakes you and on instinct, your nose turns to burrow into the crook of his neck. You let out a sigh, falling into a false sense of security for just a moment — into a world where Jihoon is yours to be with like this. Your eyes fall shut. You hardly register your own movement until it hits you that Jihoon’s entire body has gone rigid, and your eyes shoot open in a panic. You don’t think you’ve ever done that before – nuzzled into his neck like you belong there. 

And now you’re terrified that you’ve finally crossed a line that you can’t come back from. 

Another thing that Jihoon allows you to do more than anyone else is initiate physical contact. You’d taken advantage, and lately you’ve been toeing the line of too much. It just feels so easy to do, because you’re so drawn to him, to who he is, to the way he makes you feel — but you know it’s not fair of you. Not when he hasn’t ever expressed feeling the same way, not when he hasn’t ever protested as you go on dates, not when he hasn’t ever initiated anything himself. Jihoon always tells you it’s okay when you’re touchy, that he doesn’t mind it every once in a while, but you can’t help but feel like a complete fool. 

He’s not yours, and he doesn’t want to be. 

You abruptly feel yourself sober up as you scramble to move away, putting as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“You didn’t have to move,” comes his blunt reassurance, his eyes not leaving the screen of his laptop.

“I know you hate being touchy. I should have asked first. Sorry.”

“You’re always like this, especially when you’re drunk,” he retorts, “I don’t know why you’re only apologizing today.” You can’t help but shrink back against the couch, defeated. 

“Sorry,” you say again, your voice small. 

Jihoon looks at you then, eyebrows raised in surprise, like he really had no clue you were actually upset. “Hey, it’s okay. I always let you do it,” he adds after a moment. 

“Yeah…” You trail off, and you hate the way you sound a bit like a child as you repeat, “but you hate it.”

Normally, Jihoon would ignore your tipsy pouting. He’s usually not the best at reading people – self-proclaimed – but this time, he seems to sense something’s wrong. He searches your face, and when you look away, he gently nudges your foot with his. “I don’t hate it when it’s you,” he says, quiet and serious, and you can feel his eyes still on you. 

“Soonyoung and Y/N privilege,” you try to joke as you meet his eyes again, and Jihoon nods slowly. His eyebrows knit together, like he’s trying to figure something out. Whatever it is, you don’t think you want him to. “I’m going to bed,” you say, and he nods again. Neither of you says anything else, but you can feel his eyes following you as you disappear into your bedroom.

It’s not unusual for Jihoon to emerge from his room around midday. What is unusual, however, is for him to be up any earlier than 10:00am. So when you leave your room at 9:30 a few days later only to find him hunched over your kitchen island, to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s got a near-full cup of tea in front of him, and he’s staring into the void. He doesn’t turn, even when you clear your throat, and you’re beginning to panic now. 

“Jihoon?” Your hand itches to reach for him as you approach, but you don’t. You feel distinctly as though you’re trying not to startle a deer. 

“Hm?” The sound of his name seems to finally jolt him out of it, and he turns to meet your eyes. Your heart breaks a little. He looks exhausted — more than usual. There’s something about his face that suggests it’s more of a mental than physical kind of tired, and you want nothing more than to give him a hug. 

You tread carefully. “Did you… Go to the gym already?”

Jihoon shakes his head. You didn’t think so, given that he’s still in the shorts and t-shirt he usually sleeps in, but it seemed like a safe enough topic. He says nothing more. Why else would he be up this early? Your brain is running a million miles a minute. Something is clearly wrong, but how can you help? 

You’re silent as you go about your morning, making breakfast as usual — except that this time, you make twice as much. When you place two boiled eggs and some cereal in front of him, it takes him a second to react. You try not to flush when you feel his eyes on you as you sit across from him, scrolling through your phone and taking a bite of your own food instead of acknowledging it.

“Thank you.”

You look at him when he speaks. The corner of his mouth is tilted up just so, in that quiet, wonderful Jihoon way, and you can’t help but smile back. “Of course.”

It’s quiet between the two of you as you eat. You try not to think too much about it, but lately, sitting in silence around your friend has been almost unbearable. There’s just so much you want to say, especially after the other night. 

“How do you always know?”

You look at him again, eyebrows knitting together as you process his question. “Know what?”

He gazes at you for a moment, and the intensity of it has your neck flushing. Then he looks down at his plate again, and you remind yourself to breathe.   

For a second you think that there's something there, something hovering between you. You just don’t know what. 

“You always know when something’s up with me.”

You shrug, trying desperately not to show just how flustered you are that he’s noticed. “I’m an empath,” you offer, and Jihoon lets out a soft breath of laughter. He looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and it almost feels like you’re both holding your breath now.

Neither of you had mentioned that night the week before. Though a part of you knows that it’s best to just let it be, another part of you almost wishes he’d brought it up. You’re so in love with him that it makes you nauseous, and you’re so aware of it. He’s all you think about, and you worry that if you don’t say it out loud soon, you’re going to explode during one of these quiet moments. You’ve tried so hard to ignore it, to push it down, but the feelings just won’t quit. 

And you have no idea what to do about it.

Y/N [4:12pm]: what’s my favourite music man up to?

You sniffle from your spot on your couch, curled up in your favourite fuzzy blanket. You’re miserable, despite your sunny sounding text. That’s your job, though, isn’t it? To be the happy friend? To pretend everything’s fine when it’s not?

You’d just gotten home from a grueling day at work. You’d been hoping that your roommate was home – not because you’d actually have told him you were upset, but because seeing his face makes your day brighter. But he’s not, and you’re alone. 

Jihoon-ah [4:34pm]: working. I’ll be late today

Y/N [4:35pm]: classic jihoon. guess I’ll just eat alone :(

Usually, Jihoon’s short texts don’t bother you, because you know him and you know he means nothing by it. It gets to you tonight, though, because all you want right now is for him to hold you. 

You wouldn’t ever ask him for it.

You selfishly wish that he would just know that you need him, but he doesn’t. He’s busy, and he’s not very affectionate at the best of times. The worst part of it all, though, is that deep down, you know he would do anything for you if you asked. But you won’t. 

It’s not his fault, you remind yourself. If you don’t tell people what you want, you can’t expect them to know. 

You’re in your room a couple of hours later, curled up as you watch an episode of your newest binge. You’d let yourself cry, let yourself feel everything even though it hurt, and now it was on to phase two: distraction. 

You’re so enthralled in your show that you don’t even hear the front door open and close. When a knock sounds at your bedroom door, you jump and sit up straight. The knock comes again, and you freeze.

“It’s me.”

Your eyes fall to your phone to check the time. You hadn’t expected him for another hour at least. You get up slowly, grimacing as you pass your reflection in the mirror, and move to open the door. He looks out of breath, almost as if he ran home, his eyes wide and his jacket still on.

“Jihoon?” You blink. “Why are you here? I thought you were working.”

“Can I come in?” He asks instead of answering. You step aside, trying to figure out why he’s home early — and why he’s knocking at your bedroom door. It’s quiet for a minute before you sit back on your bed, gesturing for Jihoon to join you. He does, hesitantly, and the room is so quiet that your heart starts to race a little. 

“Is everything okay?”

He takes a deep breath. “Are you…” He winces as he trails off, a hand lifting to run through his hair. He tries again. “Are you having a bad day?”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. “Huh?”

“Seungcheol told me that you were having a bad day.” He looks embarrassed as he says it, and you remember that you’d told your mutual friend about your shitty boss’s latest antics at lunch. 

“Oh,” you manage, reminding yourself to scold Seungcheol later. 

“Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, almost as if he’s trying to ground himself, and then he’s pushing forward again. “So… Are you? Having a bad day?”

You debate lying so as not to worry him, but he’s looking at you so intently that you just know you can’t. You look down at your hands. “Kind of.” Your voice is quieter now, and you can feel his eyes on you.

“Okay.”

“Yeah.” It’s quiet, and you kind of wish to be swallowed whole.

“I wish you’d told me,” he admits. 

“It’s okay. I didn’t want to interrupt your… stuff.” 

He shakes his head, almost like he’s frustrated, and you wish — not for the first time — that he was a bit easier to read. 

“Your stuff is important to me, too,” is what he finally says, and you can feel how warm your face is getting. 

“I know, but it’s okay. It’s nothing big,” you try to reassure him. “I’ll get over it.”

Jihoon hums, and when you look over at him again, you find him with his hands clasped together in his lap as he leans forward. He still seems frustrated, but you’re not sure why. “I came home as soon as he told me,” he tells you, and your stomach flips. 

“You didn’t have to—“

“I’m sorry I’m bad at reading between the lines.” His interruption surprises you, and you blink back at him.

“Huh?”

Jihoon sighs, turning his body towards yours. “Even when I don’t tell you, you always know if I’m upset about something. I wish I was better at that, but I just get so focused and I don’t notice things. You know how I am.” 

“It’s okay, Jihoon,” you say again. “I can’t expect you to just know how I’m feeling.”

“Yeah,” he says slowly. His gaze on you is intense, his eyes wandering across your face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. “I guess I just wish that you, and everyone else, would be more straight up with me.” 

You bite your lip. “I’m sorry.” 

He shakes his head quickly. “No. Don’t be sorry, just…” He takes in another breath. You’re holding yours. “Can you please tell me next time?” 

“I will. I just… don’t want you to worry about me.”

“You don’t have to be ‘on’ all the time,” he says. “Not with me.”

Your heart is ready to beat out of your chest. All you can do is say, “Wow, Jihoon, it kind of sounds like you care about me.”

When he responds easily with, “I do,” your mouth falls open a little. 

The soft tone of his voice is so tender, so serious. What surprises you even more is the way he’s avoiding your eyes now, hand scratching at the back of his neck. Is he… blushing?

“I want to be there for you,” he adds a moment later, and you think you must be dreaming. He straightens, meeting your eyes again, and your breath is caught in your throat. He searches your face for a moment before he says, “I’m bad at knowing when people need me. I know that. But I’m telling you that I want you to tell me when you need me, because I want to be there for you.”

“Jihoon…”

“Please tell me you understand what I’m saying.”

The room falls silent. Your mind is running a mile a minute as you process, but you know you have to take the risk — so you do.

Your fingers find his, a slow brush of skin against skin as you wait for him to make the next move. Your heart nearly beats out of your chest when he closes the gap, lacing his fingers through yours, and squeezes. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I understand exactly what you’re saying.”

“And?”

“I care about you too, Lee Jihoon. So much.”

“Yeah?” It comes out as a whisper, and you’re rewarded with a smile when you nod. 

“Yeah.” You flush, opening your mouth to speak again, but nothing comes out. Jihoon tilts his head as you play with his fingers nervously.

“What?”

“Can you… Would you kiss me?”

Jihoon’s smile widens, even though you can see the tips of his ears turning red in the dim light of your room. “I can do that,” he murmurs, his free hand finding your face, and your nervous inhale is quieted by his mouth on yours. 

It’s gentle and slow. It’s Jihoon, and he’s kissing you, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

When you pull away, you’re blushing. You let your forehead fall forward against his shoulder, and you can feel him laugh as his hand lifts to your back. 

“Do you want to talk?“ He asks gently. “About your day?” 

You shake your head no, moving back to look up at him as you say, “Don’t worry. My day is much better now.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on pov and idk! Here’s the third of our Thirteen Valentines. Nana Tour!Woozi has ruined my life as much as he has ruined yours. xoxo

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :) Your kind comments and reblogs don’t go unnoticed &lt;3

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars @darkypooo @christinewithluv @bella-l (Strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you, sorry!)

[liightsout]

guilty as sin? - daniel ricciardo x reader

(part one)

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader ✯

✯ word count: 3.6k ✯

✯ content warnings: light swearing, alcohol consumption, abusive/unhealthy relationship ✯

✯ now playing: guilty as sin? - taylor swift ✯

✯ masterlist ✯

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Drownin’ in the Blue Nile, he sent me Downtown Lights, I hadn’t heard it in a while” 

You stared down at the phone in your hands. It felt as though the notification was mocking you. A teasing taunt that stung like a million paper cuts. You hadn’t spoken to Danny in years, but this one message from him still had the ability to send you reeling. 

Danny: this came on shuffle, made me think of you 

He’d sent you a screenshot of his Spotify showing what he was listening to. Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile. You opened up the app for yourself and pressed play. The gentle tones were like a magic key that unlocked the gates that held back the memories from all those years ago. 

You remember the first time he played you this song. You’d been on a night out for a mutual friend, Rosie’s, birthday and had ended up back at his apartment, you were both tipsy and not quite ready for bed. He poured you a glass of wine and showed you his favourite songs. You’d stayed up till the early morning sharing secrets and what felt like you every thought. No one had ever made you smile the way that he had that night. No one had made you laugh more.  

You were sure that the memories from that night would be engraved in your mind for the rest of your life. Lingering stares and hands that touched for a moment too long in the dark haze of the nightclub. The way his eyes never faltered from yours as he asked if you wanted to go back to his place. The way his strong hand felt on the small of your back as he guided you from the club and onto the street. 

He has a girlfriend, you reminded yourself as you sat next to him in the back of the taxi. You had tried to drown out your thoughts and focus on the way his fingers tapped against the side of his leg as a distraction. It didn’t work. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to slip your smaller hand into his larger one. How his fingers would feel intertwined with yours. 

You swore to yourself that nothing would happen. You weren’t a home wrecker. You simply just couldn’t pull yourself away from Danny’s magnetic aura. From the moment your eyes had locked earlier that night it was like the pair of you were playing a strategic game of chess. You’d lost the moment you felt his fingertips against your skin. It was innocent enough, but it felt like more. 

Your friends had made sure you couldn’t forget about his girlfriend, even if you had tried. Each time they’d asked him why she hadn’t joined them that evening he would shrug his shoulders and brush their questions off like a professional, giving excuses of “she’s busy” or “ she’s out of town”. You never found out why she wasn’t with him that night, but you had a good idea. He had told you bits and pieces about his girlfriend, enough to see it was clear that it was a difficult subject for him. He wasn’t sure how long they would last. They were too different, and while it was fine at the start of their relationship, 9 months in the cracks were starting to show. 

She liked the finer things in life; fancy dinners and holidays in the most exclusive resorts. He liked being at home in Australia on his ranch, riding around on quad bikes and spending time with his family. 

It was safe to say that night the two of you had gone from friendly acquaintances to good friends. 

You remember feeling relieved and quietly disappointed that you had kept the promise you had made to yourself. Nothing had happened. But why did it feel like it had? 

“What the fuck are you listening to?” your boyfriend's disapproving tone felt more insulting than usual. He didn’t give you a chance to answer. It didn't matter anyway. Even if he had, how would you defend yourself without confessing the meaning behind the song? How could you possibly explain why this was one of your favourite songs of all time, despite it being so far from what you usually listened to. 

“Sorry Evan, I’ll turn it over now.” 

“My boredom’s bone deep, this cage was once just fine” 

You had met Evan a few weeks after that night at Danny’s apartment. You had been trying desperately to shake the thought of the Aussie from your memory, and were failing horribly at doing so. 

One of your close friends had been dating one of Evan’s. Your friend had assured you that Evan was the perfect guy for you. Every time she had brought it up you had declined, memories of Danny clouding your judgement. A few weeks of radio silence from Danny made it clear to you that that night had meant far more to you than it had to him. For that reason you had begrudgingly agreed to a blind date. 

The first night you met Evan you thought he was charming. Not as charming as Danny. 

He held your hand as he walked you to your apartment after the date. He kissed your cheek and told you he thought you were beautiful. You prayed to feel the butterflies fill your stomach the way it had when Danny as much as glanced in your general direction. The butterflies never came. You had concluded that it was better to be safe than starry eyed. 

Being with Evan was easy; simple. 

He wasn’t what you’d typically look for in a boyfriend. You were used to scruffy beards, oversized t-shirts and trainers. Evan wouldn’t be caught dead in anything but a perfectly crisp white shirt and tie. 

He grew up in a wealthy family, appearances were everything to him. 

He worked in finance. You remembered thinking that Danny would laugh and call him a finance bro if he ever met him. You could picture yourself holding back laughter at how uncomfortable Danny’s outgoing persona would make Evan feel. He’d cringe at his humour and roll his eyes at his jokes. 

During weekdays Evan was out of the apartment by 7AM and rarely home before 9PM. He smelt like whiskey and cigarette smoke on the nights he would get home later. You didn’t bother asking him where he’d been. It wasn’t worth the argument. 

He spent his weekends playing golf or drinking with his friends. You had gotten used to time alone. You enjoyed the silence more than Evan’s moaning and rude comments. 

In the early days he’d take you on dates to the most expensive restaurants almost every night. He’d treat you to weekends away in countries you’d only dreamt of being able to visit. The website you had read online told you he had “love bombed” you. You wish you had seen the signs at the start of the relationship, but it was nice to feel wanted for a change. 

You felt like you were living someone else's life the majority of the time. It wasn’t that you felt you didn't deserve the finest things the world had to offer, it was something else entirely. It was only now you realised it was that you never felt at home in Evan’s world. 

In recent months you had started to call him out on his lack of ability to make time for you. He’d always bring home flowers as an apology. Arguments were reconciled by a blue Tiffany’s gift bag being left on your bed for you to find after he’d left to go to work the next day. You had a growing jewellery collection that screamed this relationship is failing. 

You felt it was too soon in your relationship for cracks like these to be showing. Surely these were issues couples stumbled into later on in life? Although, your relationship had been a fast paced one. Within 6 months of dating and Evan calling you his girlfriend you had been living together. Perhaps that was why the end felt like it had arrived sooner than it should have. You’d jumped too quick into something that wasn’t built to last, and now you had to suffer the consequences. 

“Am I allowed to cry?” 

Alone - that's how you found yourself on a Saturday night. An empty bottle of wine on the table in front of you. Taylor Swift’s saddest songs echoing throughout the empty apartment. 

Tonight’s argument with Evan had started the minute he had gotten home from golf with his friends. He was drunk and in a bad mood. 

You should have known better than to point out the lipstick smudge on his cheek, but it had happened one too many times recently and your patience had worn thin. 

“Are you really accusing me of that shit right now?” his mocking jeer had come at you like a stab to the gut. 

Was he right? Were you crazy to suggest that he would cheat on you? 

“I’m gonna leave you to think very carefully about what you’re insinuating right now. I’ll be back later, hopefully you’ll have gotten over whatever mood you’re in” he had said to you as he slammed the apartment door. 

“I dream of crackin’ locks, throwing my life to the wolves or the ocean rocks” 

It was funny to you that a luxury apartment could feel like a prison cell. 

Your whole life you’d dreamt of living in a space like this. Large windows overlooking the city skyline, high ceilings and parquet floors. 

Nothing in the apartment belonged to you. You’d asked Evan if you could buy some furniture pieces of your own, to put your own mark on your shared home. He’d reminded you quickly that it was his apartment, not yours. You were a guest here and he made sure that you knew it. 

It was only now that you realised that this was not what you wanted for yourself, not really. 

You dreamt of throwing it all away, the fancy apartment, the obnoxious boyfriend, the fake friends. 

You longed for people who knew you. People who wanted to spend time with you. You’d fallen out of touch with a lot of your old friends when you’d started dating Evan. At the time you’d found it romantic to be swept up in a whirlwind romance. You knew now it was nothing more than a manipulative tactic to get you alone and all to himself. 

“Crashing into him tonight, he’s a paradox” 

Summer time in Monaco was one of the most incredible things you’d ever experienced. If you hadn’t gained much from the relationship with Evan, you were glad that you’d gained that. 

You’d been a few times since being with Evan. He went more frequently, of course, weekends away with the guys, business trips and such. You were shocked when he’d suggested you join him for his friend James’ birthday weekend in Monte Carlo. Despite not necessarily wishing to spend your weekend off work surrounded by his snotty friends and their girlfriends who barely spoke to you, you knew you couldn’t pass up the chance to go back to the country that you had fallen in love with. 

Usually you’d be annoyed that since arriving at the hotel you were staying in, Evan had all but forgotten you existed. He had left the minute you’d put your bags down in the foyer, letting you know he was going to meet the lads in the casino. He’d not been back to the hotel since, only sending a few messages letting you know what he was up to. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to be that bothered by his behaviour. His absence meant you had gotten to explore the city more and treat yourself to some well deserved R&R. You’d walked along the beach and lost yourself in the winding streets of the city. You felt happier than you had in months. 

It all came crashing down later that night. Evan had brought you to his friend's villa for the official birthday party of the weekend. He’d only given you an hour's notice to get yourself ready for the evening, you’d been quietly annoyed that he’d neglected to tell you sooner. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him over it, not anymore. He didn’t, however, forget to remind you to dress presentably. Your eyes had rolled so hard at the statement you felt they could have fallen out the side of your head. 

Still, you had taken extra time taming your beach ready waves and styled it into a pretty updo that you knew Evan liked. Your lips were covered in the lipstick that Evan had told you was his favourite on you when you’d first started dating. He didn’t notice, or if he had, he didn’t care enough to say anything. You weren’t sure which was worse. 

You had picked out your favourite sundress you had brought with you. You felt it was the perfect combination of relaxed and presentable. It made you feel pretty. Even if Evan had given you a side eye the second you’d stepped out of the bedroom and declared you were ready to go. 

The villa was crammed with people that you didn’t know, it was a nightmare scenario for you. Your fingers gripped the wine glass in your hands, the chilled surface of the glass cooling the clammy heat that was sticking to your palms. 

You didn’t know where Evan was. He’d kissed your cheek the minute you’d walked into the building and told you he was off to find his friends. You didn’t really understand why he had brought you here in the first place. It wasn’t to show you off, that much was obvious. 

The patio out the back of the villa was a welcome sanctuary from the stuffy air inside. The minute you’d stepped out into the cooler evening air you felt instant relief. 

Your eyes searched around, looking for an empty seat you could hide yourself away on as you took tentative steps across the stone deck. Your attention skewed by the overwhelming view of the city that the garden looked out onto. The view of the ocean combined with the setting sun was breathtaking. 

You felt yourself collide with someone before you saw it happening. Strong hands gripped your upper arms preventing you from toppling over onto the floor. The wine in your glass had spilled out onto your dress, you could feel the cool liquid seeping through to your skin. 

Your eyes adjusted as you pulled back from the body you had collided with. Strong hands that had once gripped against your skin had fallen away as your eyes locked with the man in front of you. 

“Danny?” his name fell from your lips as a question rather than a greeting. Brown eyes stared into yours as his signature grin spread across his face. 

“I think I should be more confused about you being here than me, no?” the Aussie spoke with a teasing glint to his voice. You had missed his voice. The look of confusion stayed firmly planted on your face. You considered formulating a response, but it felt as though every word you wanted to speak was getting caught up in your throat. 

“What I mean to say is, how is it that I’ve not seen you in years, and now you show up here at some random blokes birthday party that I am sure you don’t know?” Danny elaborated. That playful smirk still dancing across his lips. You watched as his eyes shamelessly looked you up and down; you couldn’t stop the blush that you were sure was spreading across the tops of your cheeks.

“Yeah, I definitely don’t know the birthday boy,” you said with a laugh. “How come you’re here?” The question served as a good deflection. You didn’t want to speak to Danny about Evan. If you did he might stop looking at you the way he was right now. 

“Never took you for a gate crasher. I’ve been dragged here by Max, he wanted some company because he knew everyone here would be ridiculously boring, finance bros or something… didn’t really take that as your scene either?” Danny replied as he guided you both to the bench next to them. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. He’d hit the nail on the head there. 

You both fell immediately back into old habits. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting on that bench talking, but judging by the darkness that had now spread across the sky and the cold chill in the air, it had been at least a few hours. 

You took the time to study Danny. He hadn’t changed much in the time since you’d last seen him. He was still the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. Sun kissed tanned skin, dark tousled curls, glowing brown eyes, scruffy beard styled to perfection and a couple more tattoos on his arms. 

You were ripped from your thoughts by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching you both. You didn’t need to look up, you knew who it was. 

“Urm babe, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere” Evan said as he stood next to you. You watched as his eyes darted between Danny and yourself. You sensed the Aussie tense up beside you. You felt bad, you should have told him you had a boyfriend. But you revelled in those hours spent with Danny, pretending that Evan didn’t exist. 

“Sorry, I bumped into an old friend and we got talking, lost track of time” you quickly apologised, the smile dropping from your face as you looked up at your boyfriend. He was pissed. 

“Friend?” the word came from his lips with a slight laugh. Great, you thought. He was drunk and pissed off. And now mocking the thought of you even having a friend at this ridiculous party. A braver woman would have cussed him out for that. You didn't feel brave, you felt embarrassed. 

“Yeah mate, friend. I don’t think we’ve met? I’m Danny” he said as he stood up to greet your boyfriend. Danny was at least 4 inches taller than Evan, and bigger in stature. Being a professional athlete, you knew that Danny was fit, but standing next to Evan it was clear to see the physical advantage he had on him. You hoped Evan felt intimidated. 

Danny’s face hadn’t faltered since Evan had interrupted the two of you. His look was firm, but polite enough, the signature beaming smile you loved so much was absent from his face. It was clear he was annoyed, you suspected he was pissed at you for not mentioning the fact you had a boyfriend. 

Evan choked out his name as he held out his hand for the Aussie to shake. You hoped he felt embarrassed for making such a scene, but you knew him better than that. Years of entitlement meant that he rarely was embarrassed by his own actions. 

“So, how do you two know each other? I didn’t know you had friends in Monaco babe?” Evan’s tone was accusatory. He clearly thought you were lying. You also realised that he had no idea who Danny was. If he knew he was a rich, famous, successful athlete he would have shifted into networking mode. 

“We’ve been friends for years, we haven’t seen each other  in a while so we had a lot to catch up on. Sorry to keep her from you mate, I presumed she was here alone seeing as you’d not been anywhere in sight for the last few hours” Danny replied. The apology was laced with judgement. He was clearly unhappy to see that your boyfriend had all but abandoned you. He was mad, but not at you. You could tell by the way his eyes had softened as they connected with yours once he was done staring down Evan. 

“Well, sorry to interrupt the big reunion, but we’re heading off. I’ll meet you out front babe,” Evan spat at you as he turned and stormed back into the villa. You felt your body sigh in relief as you watched his figure disappear. Sheepishly you turned and faced Danny, your brain trying to find the right words to apologise for Evan’s behaviour. 

“I’m so sorry about him Danny, he’s just drunk and annoyed, not that that’s an excuse… I’m sorry for not mentioning him before, I should have said something-” you were cut off by Danny’s warm hand grabbing yours. You felt the air catch in your throat as his fingers found yours. The cool metal of his rings felt like ice against your skin. 

“Please don’t apologise for him being an asshole, that’s all on him. And you don’t need to apologise for not saying anything about having a boyfriend. I’ll be totally honest, I kind of already knew…” his words trailed off as a sly smile appeared on his face. Words failed you as you nodded your head, a signal for him to explain himself. 

“I may have stalked your Instagram a couple times, and I saw Rosie a few months back in the paddock. I asked her how you were doing and she mentioned that you had a boyfriend now. She misses you y’know?” the Aussie said, the last part was whispered. You felt the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You missed Rosie. You missed your old life. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything in return. You suspected that Danny knew all he needed to know by your glossy eyes and shaky hands. 

“It was nice seeing you Danny” you said to him as a parting farewell. His hand squeezed yours gently before you pulled away from him. 

You walked through the villa towards Evan who waited for you out front. You couldn’t help but feel like you were walking away from the one man you should have been running towards.

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✯ authors note: hey lovelies! i have been OBSESSED with this song since TTPD dropped, probably one of my favourite taylor songs ever.

this is part one of two, there will then be a few other chapters relating to the same story based on other songs from TTPD, kind of like a mini series of sorts!

not sure if anyone cares, but fear not, i have not abandoned the blue! i just needed to write something else as well.

hope you enjoy this, as always, comments/messages etc are so appreciated and i love receiving them.

speak soon, love you all! ✯

[117luv]

THE PARENT TRAP — LHS | CHAPTER 6

synopsis: jungwon and ni-ki met each other at a summer camp and found out they were fraternal twins. this leads to events where the two ex-lovers, heeseung and yn, are reunited after 14 years by their children.

genre: exes to lovers, smau, fluff

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, poor attempts in humor, grammatical errors, marriage, pregnancy, parenthood, miscommunication

taglist: CLOSED!

a/n: hi my loves! apologies since it took LONGER than my usual sched for updates which is average of 2 days, it just i have many things in mind and im having a minor writer's block hence the slow update but rest assured my update sched will be consistent since its my final week of school T.T ne ways enjoy n love ya <3

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Having dinner with your ex is an awkward event, especially if it's your own kid who asked for the event to take place. Yn can't say no to her son, whom she hasn't been with for almost 15 years; it's the least she can do for him. As she got ready, the boys waited for her downstairs as they watched a show on the TV. A doorbell rang just after she went downstairs. She opened the door and met the eyes of the man who is not only the father of her children but also the guy she still deeply loves and cares about despite being apart for more than a decade. They got in his car and drove to the restaurant. The car ride was filled with the boys playfully teasing each other as she looked at the rear mirror. She was met with a scene she didn't think could be possible after all these years. Her twin sons are playfully bantering as Heeseung hums to the tune of the song playing on the radio. It felt like a family enjoying the weekend and having dinner together. A complete family she had wished she could have fought for in the past.

They stepped into the restaurant and sat at their table. The boys were busy looking at the menu while the two tried to avoid each other's glances. As the waiter got their orders and, after awhile, came out with their food. They peacefully ate while the boys shared stories while they were in the camp. She can see that the boys indeed have a bond with each other despite being apart for such a long time. It pains her that this could have been their reality if things had turned out okay. It was time for dessert, and Heeseung excused himself to go to the restroom, which she quickly followed as she instructed the boys to wait for them. As she found him, she quickly grabbed his arm and asked him if she could talk to him in a private area.

"What do you want us to talk about?" he asked. "I think we should tell them; I can't bear waiting any longer to see them not know about their situation, she responded. Heeseung gave her a reassuring smile and said, "Okay, if that's what you want, then we can tell them. They deserve to know about it." — "Thank you. We should wait and tell them when we arrive in my place since we are still in public, to which he nodded and agreed. They got back to the table, and the boys were just talking as they saw their parents. She told them that her and Ni-ki's dad would tell them about something. The ride back was silent as the boys felt nervous for what was about to happen.

"So, what do the both of you want to tell us?" Jungwon asked as they all sat on the sofa. "Okay, me and Heeseung have been hiding something. I know this might come as a surprise and if you two are angry or feel betrayed by the both of us, its completely understandable. Jungwon and Ni-ki, the both of two are twins. Ni-ki, I understand if you feel hatred towards me. I been nothing but an useless mom to you. I failed to give you the right to experience to have a mother. I as your mother would like to apologize deeply. I know my apology doesn't make up for the 15 years but I hope you know that I always have you in my mind. I prayed everyday that you and your dad are safe. That you're eating well and growing into a respectfully man. I'm always proud of you and I'm grateful to be your mother." as she spoke Ni-ki cant help his eyes to tear up. He finally found his mom, the woman for whom he had longed for a long time. He can finally have someone he can call 'Mom', or someone who will shower him with affection. The day had come, and he was the happiest he had been for the longest time. "Can I hug you?" he spoke to her, and she opened her arms as the boy hugged his mom. "I've been wishing to feel your hug for the longest time. Whatever reason you and dad have, you can just explain to us next time. I just want to hug right now. Also, does this mean I can call you 'Mom' and taste your meals?" the boy finally looked at his mom, who shared the same tearful eyes as she looked at him: "Yes, Sweetheart. You can call me 'Mom, and I will cook you anything that your heart desires. Anything for my baby." as she placed a kiss on his forehead.

As the scene unfolds in front of Jungwon. He can't help but look at Heeseung, who is sitting near him. His dad is within arms reach; he can't believe he can finally meet him. He got up and hugged him tightly. "I can't believe I can finally hug you, Dad, he said while the older male hugged him tighter. "Me too, Kid. Me and your mom want to apologize about everything. The both of you don't deserve this but we can't undo the past anymore. Let me make for years I wasn't there for the both of you." Heeseung replied, "Thank you for telling us. As Ni-ki said, just explain to us next time. I want to be with you, I really want to be close to you." he said as Heeseung caressed his hair and placed a kiss on top of his head while hugging him. The day ended on a good note. There were many emotions poured out, and the four of them hugged together. The family is finally complete.

taglist [CLOSED] : @yangwaa @emikisses @yohanabanana @arizejkt19 @skuwu-blog @beatr2x @svarcq @softiehee @enhastolemyheart @deobitifull @emxshu @bucketofhiros @lost-leopard-beanie @soobin-my-beloved @azurez @flwrshee @beomgyusonlywife @lalalalawon @yanagisprettygf @astrae4 @myjaeyunn @sesame-street-lol @yumilovesloona @jhopesucker @omgjwon @yoonjunshi @wannatinyus @yeahhemmings- @coupscheri @aefolrin @neozon3nha @mevalemadrws @wonyoungsvirus @ilvsoup @dneltrise @chirokookie @noascats @sxftiell @onionzzzs @nokacchan @i-yeseo @02zluvbot @iamliacamila @nicholasluvbot @ilovewonyo @ddazed-lhs @tobiosbbyghorl @youmenotyummy @minhoie @enhaz1

[bvidzsoo]

Forget-me-not

⫿Illegal racer!Mingi⫿

TW: cursing, unprotected sex

Word count: 4,7k

A/N: Well yeah...this is Mingi's fault for posting those freaking pics and my fault for getting inspired at the most random ass times. I know I'm not the greatest smut writer, but don't take my head off for it, thank you. Your feedback is very much appreciated!

⭒Toge racing: 1-1; lead driver <--> chase driver

⭒Sprint: race has more drivers

⭒Dig: refers to all participants toeing a line, aligning the front tire of the vehicles, after which all vehicles race from a stop to a prearranged point

            My car came to a screeching halt as I slammed on the brakes, which were new. I got them changed a week ago, I have fried the old ones off after the toge race I pulled off in the mountains. My jaw was set tightly as I took in a deep breath, long fingers tightening against the leathery wheel.

“What are you doing—”

“Get out.” I snapped; eyes focused on the road ahead. The other female in the car gasped quietly before I heard her huff in annoyance.

“What did you just say?”

“Get out, Jennie.” I snapped more aggressively this time as my head whipped around, shooting dagger at her. She looked incredulous as she didn’t make any moves to get out of my car. I wasn’t having it anymore; I just couldn’t focus with her around.

“Are you seriously kicking me out of your car when we’re one block away?” She hissed, lips pulled into a snarl, making me smirk at her in annoyance.

“Yes, I am.” I told her, leaning back in my seat, “Get. Out.”

She didn’t have much of a choice as I glared her down, Jennie’s fierce eyes staring back just as harshly while she bit her lower lip. It didn’t take long for her eyes to fill with tears, which were faker than the eyelashes she had on, and I just rolled my eyes before she finally undid her seatbelt and grabbed her purse aggressively.

“I can’t believe you!” She screamed as she threw open my car’s door, making me hiss when it cracked open loudly, “You’re seriously throwing me out of your car on a deserted road in the middle of the night?!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked my fiancé a week before our wedding, cousin.” I hissed at Jennie, who was also my cousin, as I revved the engine of my 3gen burgundy Honda Prelude. The car was a gem and I cherished it dearly, taking more care of her than I have ever taken care of myself.

“I told you he was—” Jennie started shrieking as she slammed the car’s door shut, her window having been rolled down, but I quickly pressed the button to roll it up and sped off, not wanting to hear another sound coming from her mouth. It’s not like I dropped her off miles away from the car meet, she was just a block away. She should be thankful I even gave her a ride after everything she made me go through not even four months ago.

I thought Jennie and I were like sisters, always there for each other no matter what the matter was. We could talk about anything and discuss all of our issues. I confided in her when problems arose with my fiancé, and her advice had been the best, it helped our relationship…until it completely shattered. Until she went and slept with San like he wasn’t engaged to me, just a week away from his own wedding. She would’ve been the bridesmaid, but there was no wedding to be held. I called it off the second San drunkenly told me about his infidelity, and I also took all of my stuff and moved out from our shared apartment. Indeed, it was a rash decision, in the spur of the moment as my head was coated with anger, hurt and betrayal, but I couldn’t stand to see his face for even one more second longer.

The small house I rented out wasn’t in the best part of the city and it was far from being luxurious, but it worked for now. It felt cozy and the neighborhood was quiet…unless Song Mingi was out and about, keeping everyone up on the street with his obnoxiously loud Dodge Challenger. The car was a specimen, however, truly rare as it was well kept and had zero flaws. Mingi took great care of it and never failed to show it off. Even if it was in the middle of the night, when people were trying to relax and sleep as he didn’t seem to care. Whether he had just come home from racing or God’s knows from where or he was bringing girls over and showing off…he’d keep the engine running for at least ten minutes before he finally shut it off. Mingi and I had known each other for more than a year now as the both of us go to the same car gatherings and do the same illegal street races, and even better than that, we’ve raced each other countless of times already. There was only one problem with him and that was his obnoxiously large ego. His car was good, he was a skilled racer, and he knew he looked good. So, all three combined made him an insufferable jerk and I couldn’t stand being around him for more than five minutes. Imagine my shock when I moved in across from him, his car being the give away of who my neighbor would be for an undetermined time. And what made it even worse…was his bedroom facing the main road whereas it was my living room facing it, and Mingi seemed to not know the concept and usage of curtains. Whether he didn’t do it purpose, seriously have major doubts about that, or it was on purpose, it seemed to be his habit to strip naked and change in front of his windows. He never gave it away that he knew I could see him, so out of embarrassment, I never brought it up to him. Not that this would ever be something I would talk to him about, I try to stay away from that prick as he gets on my last nerve. But some things were inevitable and I would be lying to myself if I said his body wasn’t perfect from top to bottom.

I rolled down both windows of my car as I turned down the usually deserted road, which was now filled to the brim with cars on both sides, creating a pathway in the middle. People were swarming between the cars, looking at them and talking to each other. Some were even fighting, needing to be separated as I slowly rolled down the pathway, nodding my head at the familiar faces as they sent waves my way. My arm hung through the window as I steered with one hand, headed to my usual spot. People who were regulars in the illegal races had their own spots and were paid fairly better than the newcomers. Which meant it was totally worth it to race…unless the cops caught you, it was game over then. I put my car in reverse as I carefully parked my car, Soonyoung cheering loudly from the side as he watched, gaining more people’s attention. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics. Soonyoung and I have met three years ago, at a race where we both drifted off into the ditches. Unfortunately his car suffered unfixable damage, unlike mine. The Universe must’ve been on my side that day, because I was convinced I was going to die, yet here I was…unmarried and completely miserable as I plastered on the most genuine looking fake smile on my face that I could.

“Hey, buddy!” I greeted him as I got out of the car, knocked breathless when Soonyoung’s best friend raced towards me, colling into my body and lifting me up into a hug as he started twirling me around aggressively. I had to hold onto his body out of fear of scratching my own car and Soonyoung’s purple Subaru BRZ as my legs gripped around Wooyoung’s waist tightly.

“You made it!” He shouted into my ear and I cringed, crying out as he abruptly stopped, giving me whiplash, “Soonyoung said you were coming but seeing the time—I thought you changed your mind.”

“I didn’t,” I breathed out as Wooyoung finally released me, only for Soonyoung to engulf me into a hug; they both knew I hated hugs, yet never stopped tackling me into one, “But my mother made plans for me and forced me into picking Jennie up—”

“That bitch!” Wooyoung called out at the same time as Soonyoung went off saying, “I thought you were past the age where your mother tells you what to do.”

“Yeah, okay,” I shrugged, pushing my hands into the pocket’s of my leather jacket, “I didn’t know until I got there, Soonyoung, and yes, Jennie is a bitch, Wooyoung.”

“She is! Oh, my God, how dare she still face you after everything she’s done?!” Wooyoung seemed to be annoyed all of a sudden as he huffed, making Soonyoung glance at him. His eyebrows were furrowed as he nodded in agreement. They both hated my cousin, rightfully so, and I did too.

“She still blames it all on San—”

“Bullshit!” Soonyoung suddenly exclaimed, his face pulled into a scowl, “Where’s she anyway? I don’t see her in your car.”

“I kicked her out a block away.” I couldn’t help but giggle as I told my two friends the shit I pulled off. In full honesty, I really couldn’t listen to her ramble on about her apparently picture-perfect life anymore. I hated her guts, I really did. After she ruined my life she had the nerve to rub hers in my face? I don’t think so, not anymore at least; I have made myself very clear after the ugly hysterical fit I had at my mother’s. Soonyoung and Wooyoung shouldn’t have cackled as loudly as they had, palms pressing against their mouths as they congratulated me for being a bad bitch. I wasn’t, I was simply triggered and still hurting.

“You’re iconic, love.” Wooyoung said as he reached out and touched a wavy strand of my hair. I wasn’t planning on dressing up tonight, but something pushed me to do. It’s been too long since I have looked put together, I have missed feeling beautiful and desirable, “And you look absolutely amazing.”

“Thank you.” I bowed playfully as Soonyoung grinned, bumping his shoulder against Wooyoung’s.

“Dressed up for a certain someone to see?” He teased with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“As if!” I exclaimed and rolled my eyes, knowing very well Soonyoung was referring to Mingi. No, that prick deserved none of my attention or effort, “Before you can spew out more nonsense, I’ll head over to Hongjoong and enter my name in the race.”

“Oh!” Wooyoung exclaimed with excitement as I walked out from between my car and Soonyoung’s, “Which one are you entering?”

“Which one should I?” I stopped to think for a moment as a wicked grin crossed Soonyoung’s features.

“Do the two blocks drifting one.” He instructed with a glint in his eyes and I narrowed mine at him, wondering why he had that face while suggesting such a mild race. Wooyoung glanced at our friend for a second before realization crossed his features and he giggled into his palm, avoiding eye contact with me.

“Fine, but I have a feeling I shouldn’t trust the two of you…” I muttered as Soonyoung and Wooyoung high-fived each other and sent a wink my way, turning their backs as they went to join their other friends once I took off.

My strides were long as I was headed towards the front, where the checkered flag was being waved aggressively, the path having gotten narrower as I was forced to push my way through the crowd. People were loud around me as they cheered for the driver of their choice, egging them on to show a better performance, to win. Four cars were lined up at the starting line, about to start a Sprint. Seonghwa, Hongjoong’s right hand and who handled the races in this part of the town, went and checked on every driver before he walked up to the front, standing in between two cars, holding the checkered flag as he raised his hand. People started shouting like crazy as Seonghwa started counting down and then, dropped the flag, the cars shooting off one by one, each fighting to win the race. I recognized one car, Choi Jongho’s, he was a newcomer but he was rising in the ranks rapidly, creating a name for himself on these streets. Hongjoong stood to the side, leaning against a pole as he was counting the money in his hands, smirking at Seonghwa as he approached him once the coast was clear of any speeding cars. I watched the two as I approached them, Seonghwa talking to Hongjoong softly as the shorter one reached out for his waist with one hand, placing something in the taller one’s back pocket with his other hand. I raised my eyebrows at them as I came to a stop in front of Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s mouth closing abruptly as he stopped talking. Apparently I wasn’t allowed to know what their conversation was about.

“Oh, hey.” Hongjoong’s demeanor changed as he greeted me with a friendly smile, “You’re racing tonight?”

“I sure am.” I said with a grin and Seonghwa took out a small notebook, eyebrows furrowed as he searched for a pen.

“Which category?” He asked as he finally found it and watched me expectantly. I was feeling like going for a Dig tonight, but I remembered what Soonyoung had told me.

“Drifts, the two blocks one.” I said casually, making Hongjoong look up. He looked a little bit surprised as he shared a look with Seonghwa, one which I didn’t understand. But Seonghwa just hummed and jotted my name down in the notebook before he looked up.

“The usual sum?” I nodded and handed them two stacks of money as Seonghwa jotted down the amount, Hongjoong taking the stacks from my hand with a hungry glint in his eyes. I lingered for a second as I wanted to ask who I’d be racing against tonight, but I changed my mind and thanked the two instead as I walked back to my car, deciding that I wanted to live dangerously tonight. Not knowing my rival made it more satisfying when I would win, not having made a strategy for myself beforehand as I didn’t know who the person would be and their driving style. My mind and body craved for the little adrenaline racing infused into my bloodstream and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the prize too.

             Of course, I should have known by Soonyoung and Wooyoung’s giggles that they were setting me up. Losing tonight was as possible as winning, really, it would be about who was more skilled and faster. I watched Mingi’s black 2000 Dodge Challenger pull up to the start line, front tires on the line just like mine. The rumble of his car’s engine was already a tell-tale sign of whom I’d be racing tonight, and I couldn’t help but curse as I saw Wooyoung and Soonyoung high-five each other on the sidelines before showing me a thumbs-up. I could only scowl at them as Seonghwa walked around, gathering money as people made bets on who would win this time. Mingi’s window was rolled down and I saw movement from my peripheral so I looked over lazily, raising an eyebrow at him as he waved his ring clad fingers at me in a mocking way. I rolled my eyes and rolled down my own window, Mingi’s mouth already opening to speak up.

“Evening, doll.” He called over the loud crowd and rumble of our cars engines, “Fancy losing tonight?”

“Don’t get too cocky now, Mingi.” I plastered on a fake smile, “I might smoke you out.”

“I have to admit your ass is pretty fine—” He paused for a dramatic effect as my jaw clenched, knowing well he meant it both ways; car’s and my ass, “but I don’t plan on looking at it for too long tonight.”

I chuckled and pushed my wavy hair behind my shoulders as I leaned over the middle console, my low-cut top not leaving much to imagination, “I would hate to kick you off your high-horse, sweetheart, but your Dodge got nothing compared to my Honda.”

“I thought I have showed you my skills countless times, doll.” The way Mingi caught his lower lip between his teeth shouldn’t have made my stomach flip, but I couldn’t help it as my eyes remained fixed on them. Then, Mingi suddenly smirked as if he could see even from the distance where my eyes were fixated and he lowered his sunglasses slightly, leaning over his open window, “You seem to have forgotten, let me remind you tonight.”

My skin got covered in goosebumps at the offer in his tone, knowing damn well what he was talking about. And it wasn’t about racing anymore. But I wouldn’t let him know how quickly his words could make my body react, therefore, I just leaned back in my seat and started revving the engine of my burgundy car, smirking at Mingi as a displeased look crossed his face. I rolled up my window as he started revving his, Seonghwa having made it between our cars with a flag in his hands. He grinned at Mingi before looking at me, earning a firm nod from me. I decided to take a peek at Mingi swiftly, wondering how he could still see and drive while wearing sunglasses at night, but I quickly pushed all thoughts away as Seonghwa’s hands raised. I gripped the steering wheel tightly with my left hand as my right went to grip the gear stick, eyes set on the road ahead. My left foot was on the shift pedal and the second Seonghwa released the flag, I kicked into action as I shifted into first gear and shoot off, leaving Mingi in a dust behind as I worked my way up through the gears, focusing on the road only, familiar with Mingi’s driving. Beating him tonight would be a piece of cake.

            The windows were fogged up and the leather was scrapping against my knees painfully as I panted, eyebrows scrunched together as I tried to find the perfect rhythm. Mingi’s calloused hands were gripping my waist but he wasn’t doing anything, he was just watching me with an open mouth, leaning forward to press his reddened lips against my flushed skin in no time. He would grunt from time to time as my hips moved up and down, his dick deep inside, hitting every sensitive nerve I had as his tongue licked against my collarbone before I felt him sucking. The small top I was wearing was of no-good use as Mingi’s right hand came up to grope my left breast and I whined as my thighs were starting to strain. It wasn’t a surprise that I have ended up in Mingi’s car not long after our race, which he had won this time, panting and on top of him, desperate for my own release as Mingi didn’t do anything, as he tortured me longer than it was necessary. Mingi’s lips trailed upwards, kissing and biting the skin of my neck before he kissed behind my ear, making me whine as I fastened my pace. A low groan left Mingi’s lips as his nose pressed against the skin of my neck, his hot breath hitting my skin uneven.

“Fuck, I can’t take this any longer.” I panted out, hands tangling into Mingi’s black hair as he slightly pulled back to look up at me. His pupils were blown and his eyes were hazed over with lust, yet he still managed to smirk as his hands went around my naked waist and grabbed my bare ass, helping me out as I moaned loudly, going faster with Mingi’s help. My walls clenched down around him and in response Mingi cursed quietly, biting my neck as his fingers dug into the flesh of my ass, soon enough his body leaning back into the leather cushion of his passenger seat. My arms went to hold onto the headrest of it, whimpers getting louder as my lower region burned, desperate for a release after so much teasing and edging from Mingi. His grunts were constant as I gyrated my hips more frequently, my lower lip in between my teeth as suddenly Mingi hit the sweet spot, making me stutter out a gasp as my walls clenched down around him.

“Fuck.” He cursed in a low rasp, hands releasing me as his hands raised behind his head, eyes shut close for a second, “Fuck, tell me I’m better. He could never fuck you like this, doll.”

My eyebrows furrowed as I went down on his dick again, but missed the angle I have previously found. My brain was in a haze, and I didn’t want his words to register as I continued chasing for an orgasm, but Mingi just wouldn’t shut up, “San could never make you feel this good.”

My body stiffened and muscles contracted as I was snapped out of whatever euphoria I was feeling at the moment, face contorted into disgust as I threw a glare at Mingi, “Why the fuck would you bring up my ex-fiancé during sex, Mingi?!”

Mingi gulped as he opened his eyes, forehead covered in a sheer coat of sweat, “Why? Are you not over him yet?”

I hated the arrogance dripping from his voice, the way he was looking at me, with such superiority, as if he was better, “It’s been four months, only. Would you be over the person you’ve loved for six fucking years and were meant to get married to?”

“I certainly wouldn’t start mopping about it during sex with another man—”

“You brought him up, he wasn’t even in my mind.” I snapped as we remained unmoving, Mingi’s hands latching onto mine against the headrest as he squeezed them.

“He better not be while I have my dick inside you, doll.” Mingi rasped and I scoffed, leaning closer to him, our lips almost touching.

“You sound an awful lot like you’re jealous, sweetheart.” I whispered against his lips before I licked his lips, Mingi’s eyes darkening for a second as he shifted underneath me. He only moved slightly, but the burning and yearning was back as my eyebrows furrowed, “You talk too much. Shut up and fuck me brainless, Mingi.”

“Gladly, doll.” Mingi whispered as he suddenly thrusted upwards, making me yelp in surprise as he suddenly started moving. He wasted no time as he moved fast and sharply, slamming back in before I could even meet his thrusts. My head fell back as I braced myself against his shoulder and neck, mouth open as whimpers kept falling and falling. Mingi’s length reached places nobody’s had before and with his precise and sharp thrusts my thoughts were slowly becoming incoherent again. His face was contorted into pleasure as his eyebrows pulled together, a moan slipping out every now and then as his left hand pushed against the roof of his car as his right hand came down to grab my hips and maneuver them to his liking. The fire was quickly building up in my stomach now with his continuous thrusts and it was starting to get harder and harder to focus on anything else but on chasing my own release. Mingi suddenly leaned up and circled his left arm around my torso as he flushed our bodies together, pivoting his hips up at a relentless pace, making me keen against his ear as my fingers tangled into his hair tightly. Mingi moaned loudly and fucked me harder as I moved messily against him, toes curling from the feeling.

“Fuck, Mingi—” My voice broke off into a loud moan as he finally found my sweet spot again, walls clenching down on him tightly. Mingi gasped and pressed his tall nose against my collarbone as he hit the spot again and again, his moans strained as I screwed my eyes shut, moving my hips in time with his, my hand coming down between us to rub circles against my clit.

“Doll—” Mingi groaned as my muscles tightened, so close to releasing finally as I threw my head back, Mingi’s name falling off my lips in whispers and broken moans. I could feel Mingi twitching inside me constantly and I knew he was close too as his breathing got even more uneven and arms tensed against my body as he leaned back, suddenly holding my jaw, making my eyes snap open, “Look me in the eyes.”

And so I did as I rubbed against my clit faster, Mingi’s thrusts wilder as his hand slipped from my jaw to my neck, putting the right amount of pressure against it. My lips fell open and in a few more desperate thrusts, I was coming undone against Mingi as my body tensed up and spasmed in his arms, moans spilling from my lips until I couldn’t breathe anymore, Mingi’s long fingers cutting off my air. My body shook as euphoria washed over every sense in my body, skin on fire and stomach coiling as I came down crashing hard, ears ringing before I could finally breathe, sputtering nonsense against Mingi’s lips as I fell forward, pressing my lips against his messily. He still hasn’t released yet and as my body went mush in his arms, he continued fucking up into me, head falling back as his moans grew loud. My lips sucked against the sensitive skin of his neck as my body ached from being used too much, but I knew he was close and I wanted him to fill me up.

“Mingi—” I moaned out in pain as my walls felt abused by Mingi’s relentless and messy pace, but when we made eye contact he knew what I was asking of him. His face contorted into pleasure once again and he bit his lower lip and whined as I clenched my walls around his dick, his hands coming to hold onto the headrest as his hips stuttered, stomach stiff as he came too, spilling inside me his warm seed. My stomach twisted at the feeling and I watched Mingi as he panted loudly, pressing his head into the headrest harshly. My right hand cupped his jaw and he lazily blinked his eyes open, watching me with clear eyes. A small smirk crossed his lips as he grabbed me by the nape and pulled me down, our lips meeting for a kiss as we both opened up, tongues meeting in a hot frenzy. I could feel my face heat up as Mingi’s tongue explored my mouth, slowly and sensually, making my skin tingle again as I pressed closer against him, kissing back with the same fervor as he was. He still hadn’t pulled out and I could finally feel the strain in my thighs as everything caught up with me at once, the yearning of my body. I could never get enough of Mingi, but I never allowed myself to think too hard about it. Mingi licked into my mouth with finality, sucking on my tongue before pulling away, a small string of saliva snapping as he went and sucked on my lower lip, making me push him away when he bit down on the soft flesh harshly. He seemed pleased with himself as he trailed his hands down the sides of my body, gripping my hips steadily.

“Wanna go for another race?” He asked seriously and I looked at him with an incredulous look.

“To lose more money that would go to you?” I asked with a scoff, making Mingi smirk as he lightly squeezed my hips.

“So, you do admit I would win again?”

“Don’t think you’re too special,” I rolled my eyes as Mingi smirked, “I’m just too spent after our little session…”

“Poor you,” Mingi mocked and pursed his lips, “Here I was, feeling like going for a second round…”

“I can’t feel my thighs anymore, forget it.” I snapped and made to finally get off him, but Mingi didn’t let me as he smiled, batting his eyelashes at me like he wanted something.

“And if we go home?” He asked airily, jutting his lower lip out, “Will you let me fuck you into the mattress?”

My jaw almost fell open, but I managed to stop myself as I tsked, smirking at him, “Can’t get enough of me?”

Mingi smirked and slightly raised me up by the waist, making me gasp at the friction, “Apparently I can’t.”

I chuckled as Mingi leaned up to peck my lips before lifting me off himself, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes which told me the rumble of our cars engines wouldn’t be the only thing keeping up our neighbors tonight.

Masterlist (divider)

[moonriselabyrinth]

My top 10 Brackwood songs & why each qualifies

War of Hearts by Ruelle: “I can’t help but love you even though I try not to” pretty much sums up the one scene we got between them, it was the tension and undertone we all picked up on. It’s what Davos was thinking as his hand turned just slightly towards Aeron’s even as he approached him heatedly.

Daylight by David Kushner: the expression of religious guilt surrounding sex/a relationship, the lines like “telling myself, I won’t go there” and “telling myself it’s the last time”, the idea that this expression of sexuality must be concealed and only allowed to live at night, I could go on forever probably.

Once More to See You by Mitski: the sweet melancholy of this song while being about loving someone dearly but being forced to keep it secret and living for seeing them just one more time fits Aeron and Davos devastatingly well.

Love and War by Fleurie: to keep it simple the line “lover, hunter, friend and enemy, you will always be every one of these” alone makes it perfect for them.

Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage: The elegance of this song that’s talking about kinky sex is so impressive and lovely to listen to in the first place and I think that fits Aeron and Davos very well. They want to tear each other apart in a tender sort of way. And the singer expressing possessiveness within those moments is, again, very fitting.

Six Feet Under By Billie Eilish: this song is about a love that is already doomed but having hope that with a little care and effort it would flourish even if you know deep down it can’t, you need that hope.

I Bet on Losing Dogs by Mitski: they are each others losing dogs. “Where I’ll be looking in their eyes when they’re down”, “I’m losing by their side”, “someone to watch me die”.

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski: Davos and Aeron can’t have much of their own. They live in a time, a place, and within a system that takes everything from them as individuals. They are a Bracken and a Blackwood not Davos and Aeron. They are the sons of highborn men, they are river men, they should be knights and fighters, good at riding horses and killing and hunting, they are to marry a woman and have children and continue on their line. The only thing that truly belongs to them is personal thoughts and feelings. The only thing they can keep for themselves is loving each other.

Doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine: this one might not fit quite as well as some of the others on my list but I really like it for them all the same. I feel they could both easily come into the mindset that one of them feels more than the other because they would each always be putting up fronts and struggling not to show their true feelings so I think the lines like “you'll sit and stare like a goddamn machine” and “I'd like to plan out my part in this but you're such a narcissist” can fit pretty well. But the lines that really bring me back to this song for them are these ones: “The death of me was so quiet, no friends and family allowed, only my murderer, you and the priest who told you to go to hell” also “and the funny thing is I would've married you, if you'd have stuck around” and finally, tragically, “I feel more free than I have in years, six feet in the ground”

Somewhere Only We Know by Keane: this song is less obvious most likely but I like the idea of each of them being tired of the family obligations, the work of everyday life, the façade they have to put up about hating each other so they just daydream about being alone together somewhere know one else even knows about. Perhaps it’s where they go in their minds when life is overwhelming.

Anyway, feel free to share your own or discuss my picks in the replies 😌

[valentiyne]

𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗐𝗈 ☆ 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗎𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽

Calum Hood x Fem!Reader Warnings: Slight Cursing & Soft!Cal. Summary: Requested! Blind date with Calum, a match made in heaven, or a bundle of awkwardness and spilled drinks? Word Count: 2.1k Copyright © 2023 Valentiyne. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻

You weren't even sure how you managed to end up in this position.

Your skin-colored leggings suffocate your thighs, your heels marking your ankles with raw blisters, and the mini skirt your roommate begged you to wear riding up every damn step you take. She wanted to play matchmaker for the night, claiming this guy she knew from work was "my other half." Now here I was, walking down Hollywood Boulevard in an outfit that a paper towel could probably cover more skin.

The restaurant she told you to meet him at was 20 minutes away from our shared apartment, and you had to be shoved to finally walk out the door. I had no idea who I was meeting or his name.

"You have fun, be safe and I packed a few condoms in your bag!", she pushed me out the door, waving ecstatically with a high-pitched squeal.

A few?

I look up the see the tiny diner come into view, her excuse being "he can't technically be seen in any major restaurants." whatever that means.

Pushing the doors open, I look around the empty room. It wasn't too late at night, only being 7PM- but it was a Monday. The back walls were all mirrors, making me avert my attention to myself and what I was wearing once again. I had stopped and looked at my reflection every chance I got on my way here, and now that I'm placing it in this diner- I am way overdressed. A few coffee pots were on warmers, probably hours old and bitter. The jukebox in the corner was playing some Elvis song that Chloe could name if you played it backward, and I smiled at the thought nevertheless.

"Have a seat anywhere", the waitress calls from the back and I give a faint smile to her. I spot someone sitting in the back left corner, opposite to the Jukebox, a menu propped up to cover their entire face.

Is that him?

I slowly walked towards the booth, looking around once more before standing in front of the occupied table. I cleared my throat quietly, hopefully to grasp their attention.

"Excuse me? Um are you here for a date", I ask after no response, mentally praying I wasn't completely embarrassing myself with a total stranger.

The menu flew down with a gust of wind following, my hair twirling back as I made eye contact with brown eyes and freshly dyed blue hair.

"Hey, Yeah that's me", He smiles nervously, his hand leaning up awkwardly to shake. I quirk an eyebrow at him and slowly slide into the booth across from him, shaking his hand slowly.

"I'm Y/n, a friend of Chloe's", I smile nevertheless, ignoring his very visible awkwardness.

I glance down at the table now, noticing the single menu sprawled out infront of him.

He clears his throat before speaking, extending his hand out once more before retracting it quickly, "I'm Calum."

"Any reason there's only one menu, Calum?", I lightly joke, pointing down at the menu he still had grasped in one hand. His eyes go wide and he slides it over to my side of the table, muttering curse words under his breath.

"Shit sorry, I completely spaced it and told the waitress it was a table for one- maybe two", a hand flies up to the back of his neck and I take note that they are painted silver, clasped with multiple various rings.

I put a hand up to reassure him, a light smile paints my pink lips and he throws his head back and laughs- mainly at himself.

"Tell me about yourself?", He dares to ask, his eyes looking up to meet mine as I focus my attention on the condensation dripping down and pooling from my water glass.

"There's not much to say really, I'm a full-time employee who barely has time to sleep", I laugh softly, toying with the straw settled in my water. That was the stupidest response I could've given.

"I understand the no sleep, I'm always on tour with my mates so sleep is usually the least of my worries", He leans his back against the seat, folding his hands on the table neatly.

"You're in a band? What do you play?"

Calum proceeds to tell me everything there is to know about him- life on tour, the crazed obsessed fans, and the 'sexy' bass he picked up the other night. I sat and listened to every word of it, not bothering to interrupt how passionate he sounded about his hobbies. It gave me a sense of relief knowing he didn't find me boring compared to his hectic lifestyle, maybe even reassured that there's more to life than status.

"Were you two ready to order?", the waitress from before calls from a few tables away, her hands full with ketchup bottles. I look down at my phone to notice that Calum had been talking for 30 consecutive minutes- not letting the overworked waitress take our order sooner.

"Oh yes! I'm so sorry, can we just get one banana split to share?", I smile at the girl and she returns the favor with a slight thumbs up.

Calum turns to me with a laugh, "Really?".

"What?" I laugh now too, it was almost contagious at this point.

"A banana split? I invite you to dinner and you get desert?"

My mouth drops open, and I lean across the table to playfully smack his hand. He retracts his hand quickly, reaching up to push two fingers against my forehead to stop me from reaching across any further.

"There's nothing wrong with dessert for dinner, Calum"

"Never said there was, Y/n"

He shrugs in agreement before pushing his water to the side to make room for the incoming plate. The waitress places the monstrous desert before us, two spoons on the plate and she drops a few napkins at his side.

"You two enjoy!"

We both thank her kindly before I look back towards Calum, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he tries to process how we are both going to manage to finish this. Instead, he leans down with his mouth open wide at the desert to playfully take a chomp at the whipped cream that was piled on.

"Calummmm", I whine, swatting him away as he gives me a cream filled smile. I watch as his eyes make contact with the mountain of whip cream before him and devilish smirk appears. He then leans up quickly, snatching a scoop of the whip cream with his fingers to fling at me. I burrow closer to me seat, protecting my face with my hands as I squeal loudly. In one swift moment, his hand reached across towards me and knocked both of our waters onto the table- destroying our desert.

"Oh shit", he says quickly, his hands flying to tug the napkin from under the plate between us and attempting to clean the mess with one lone napkin.

"You're an idiot", I say in between laughs, my hands wrapped around my stomach to contain the pain now emerging with every breath.

He grumbles something under his breath before he begins laughing himself, his cheeks squishing against his eyes and face bright red.

"Can I say I officially ruined this date? Yeah?" Calum inquires, his eyes traveling down to the drenched shirt I now wore.

"Nah, I think it's probably the best date I've ever been on", I scoop up a piece of our watery banana split, eyeing it for a moment before dropping the spoon back down in the puddle. Calum works on cleaning the rest of the water off the table, attempting to ease the workload on our waitress.

"Let me get you a new shirt at least?", He opens his wallet, tossing more than enough to cover the bill before sliding out of the booth. I nod in agreement and push all the dishes to the front of the table for the waitress, giving him a laugh before sliding out with him.

"Already trying to take my clothes off?", I tease, earning a new formed look of horror on his face. "I'm just teasing, sure I would love a new shirt." He extends a hand down for me to take and I gladly accept it, walking out of the diner with an apologetic wave to the waitress. Calum kept his hand clasped in mine tightly, his head bowed down up until the point we reached the car. I paid no mind to it, knowing the underlying meaning behind the secrecy of our encounter.

"Is it okay if we go back to mine? If you want I can take you home and-", He begins rambling, his hand opening the passenger door for me. I nod my head, plopping down into the seat and clasping the seatbelt across my chest. He gives a faint smile and closes the door behind me with a "Watch your tail."

As he walked around the car to his side, I could've sworn I heard a "Yes!" from under his breath.

Calum's house was more than I expected, it was clasped with vintage decor and numerous shelves honoring his awards and medals. Sure, I knew he was in a band, but this wasn't what I exactly had in mind. I think I expected the house to be littered with clothes from numerous hookups or even just sheets of music paper everywhere. He tossed his keys into a bowl in the hallway, slipping his shoes off and neatly tucking them away. I take note of it and slide my heels off as well, pushing them aside as I step onto the cold hardwood.

"Let me grab you something to wear", Calum says as he makes his way down the hall and toward what I'm assuming is his bedroom. I hear little footsteps bolting my way and I turn around to see a salt and pepper puppy at my feet, circling me as it sniffed.

"Hey little guy", I crouch down to offer a hand before scrunching at its neck.

"I wasn't sure if you wanted a hoodie or a shirt since your top is kinda small- not that that's a bad thing but you must be cold from the wa-", his voice echoes in the hallway, getting louder before he suddenly stops infront of me.

"Who's this?", I ask as the dog licks away at my hand, tail wagging so quickly I was sure he would start floating.

"Oh! I forgot to mention I had a dog", Calum crouches down, picking up the dog and placing him on the couch next to him. "That's Duke, hope you're not allergic or anything." I shake my head, my heart growing at the mere thoughtfulness that he has shown me throughout the night.

He holds up two options to wear. The first being a white and red t-shirt with some type of writing sprawled on it and the second being a oversized green hoodie with embroidery on the front.

"Now these are my prized possessions, If I let you borrow one I'll expect a second date in return. Deal?" He says hopefully, holding both out towards me and I hesitate for a moment between the two.

"They are that important to you huh?", I smile and grab the hoodie to feel the texture of it before deciding on it, grabbing it from his hand. He points at a door down the hallway he just exited from with a nod,

"You have no idea.."

[strangercarla]

Valentine’s Day with Avengers (OT6)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson x Fem! Reader.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Non.

Natasha Romanoff

Natasha & yourself would spend the entire day together for valentine's day. The morning would start with cuddles in bed & then breakfast. Then in the afternoon, a romantic walk through the park to find the perfect spot for a picnic. And The evening yourself & Natasha would go back to your shared apartment, dress up in your best formal clothing & go to the best restaurant in town for a romantic meal.

Tony Stark

Expect Tony to go over the top on valentine's day. In the morning you would wake up to a dozen red & white roses on your night stand, gifts at the side of your bed & a breakfast served to you. He wanted to give you the best valentine's morning you deserve. In the afternoon you would go shopping for new outfits for a romantic night out at the theatre then your favourite restaurant. And when you arrived home, there was a bottle of champagne & strawberries waiting for you.

Steve Rogers

Steve is a hopeless romantic. All morning consisted of cuddling, sweet kisses & slow dancing to love songs played on his record player. In the afternoon he took you for a ride along the river on his motorcycle. He drove you to a beautiful spot by the river. You sat for hours watching the water & reminisced on all your memories together. And in the evening you arrived home for a romantic dinner in.

Bruce Banner

Yourself & Bruce had an early start to the morning. It was 4am when you both woke up so you decided to find a coffee shop that was open. You spent hours there hand in hand talking about everything & anything. In the afternoon you went to a park & because it was empty & you're both huge kids you both ran to the swing set & just laughed together. You then decided to call it a night & headed home to watch romantic movies.

Clint Barton

You woke up extremely excited because Clint had bought two tickets to see your favourite band. He didn't mind spending his valentine's day at a gig because he's spending time with you & also he is a music man. So, the morning & afternoon was spent listening to the setlist, dancing around together & exchanging gifts. When you arrived home after the gig you both decided to order a pizza & chill on the couch until you both fell asleep.

Thor Odinson

For your valentine's day you spent the day & night at Asgard. The morning you spent together was short lived as Thor was preparing something special for you. So, you spent most of the morning with his family. In the afternoon you were told to go to your shared bedroom where you saw the most beautiful gown. There was a note on top that read 'put this on & meet me at 7pm, love Thor x' So you did exactly that & he escorted you to a beautiful ballroom. He planned a valentine's ball just for you & it was dreamy.

[avatar-anna]

Idk if you like this concept but i can't stop thinking about harry with swiftie y/n who always sings London Boy to him. And likes to tease him about the fact that he dated Taylor

swiftie!y/n by @harrysfolklore is superior, but i did my best!

(also, i know london boy isn't actually about harry, he's just being a tease)

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“Hello everyone. My name is Y/n Y/l/n, but only because my boyfriend hasn't proposed to me yet.”

In the dim lighting, you could just make out Harry's figure at the back of the bar, where he promptly flipped you off. Laughing a bit, you continued.

“He told me we weren’t going home tonight until I got up here and performed, and while you are all a lovely bunch, I fear I am growing a little tired, so here I am.”

You and Harry were spending some time in Japan. Tokyo, to be exact. He'd just come off his first solo tour, and you both thought it would be nice to get away for a little while. He liked Japan, and you had never been, so it was perfect.

In the few weeks of being in Japan, you and Harry frequented a couple of places, one of which was a karaoke bar a few blocks from the apartment you were staying at. It was all locals and the two of you, but everyone was welcoming, especially when Harry started doing rounds of sake and getting on the small stage to perform here and there. You were content to watch, though Harry tried multiple times to get you to at the very least join him. And now that it was nearing the end of your stay, he was pressing a little harder.

So now you were on the stage with a microphone in your hand, trying not to look at anyone for too long.

“You got this, babe!” Harry shouted from his seat, resting his fingers in his mouth to blow a sharp whistle.

“Thank you,” you said. “This song goes out to my boyfriend, my London boy. And Taylor Swift, who I am forever grateful to for breaking up with my boyfriend so that I could have him one day, and I hope she'll follow me on Instagram one day so we can become best friends and dress up as Charlie’s Angels together for Halloween.”

You weren’t typically the kind of person that over shared, but it took a good amount of alcohol to get a microphone in your hands, and you tended to share a little too much about yourself when you were drunk.

Harry gave you a thumbs up as the music started, and since you called Taylor Swift “mother” on a regular basis, you didn't really need the words on the screen to help you along.

“We can go drivin' in, on my scooter. Uh, you know, just riding in London. Alright. I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal. And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey...”

It was safe to say that you loved Taylor Swift. You grew up with her music, each album speaking to the different phases of your life as you went through them. Her music, her lyrics, the stories she told...you just understood all of it, you felt understood by her songs.

Meeting Harry, falling in love with him, it was all chance. He came into the clothing store you worked at, and you only recognized him as the guy from that boy band who dated Taylor Swift (which you did not tell him until much, much later). But he took you by surprise. His hair was long and his smile was shy but kind, and instead of talking about clothing suggestions like you were paid to do, he asked about you, and you asked about him, and instead of walking out with shopping bags, he left with your number, and the rest was history.

You never really expected to fall in love with Harry. Honestly, you thought he would forget about asking for your number. But he texted you a couple hours after you met, and you stayed up almost all night talking about whatever popped into your heads. He made his interest in you quite obvious, so there was never a period where friendship became more, but you still considered him your best friend. You were just two young people in love and experiencing the world together, and you wouldn't have wanted anyone else by your side.

Harry knew now what a fan of Taylor Swift you were, courtesy of a night where you had a little too much to drink and accidentally showed him a picture of a teenage you dressed in a “You Belong With Me” costume at one of her concerts.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“So, you’re a fan, are you?” he asked.

“That might be an understatement,” you told him, crawling into his lap. “You should know, if I believed in hall passes...”

Harry bursted out laughing, throwing his head back as you giggled with him. You thought he might be put off by your love for your favorite artist, but when he sobered up, he kissed the top of your head and said, “Noted. I’m very thankful that you don't believe in hall passes then.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile. Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you...”

You were no performer, but you did your best, skipping between tables and trying your hardest not to sound horrible. You tried not to look at Harry too, because you knew he would be smiling no matter how good or bad you were, and you needed to make it through the song without getting flustered.

However, as the song came to a close, you went over to where he was and planted yourself on his lap, singing the last few lines just to him.

You could tell he was a little drunk too. His green eyes hooded as he smiled down at you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and his grip on your waist made it hard to focus, but you managed to make it to the end of the song before kissing him.

His lips tasted like alcohol and the lip balm he kept in his pocket at all times. You held the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing at his temples as the patrons of the bar applauded your big finale. Eventually you pulled away to give the microphone back to the person in charge of the karaoke machine, but Harry didn't let you get far, his arms circling around your waist and holding you close.

“Let’s go home,” he mumbled as the next person got ready to perform.

“Can we grab something to eat on the way back? That left me starving. I don't know how Taylor does it.”

Harry chuckled as he stood up from his seat, leaving a couple bills on the bar before taking your hand in his as the two of you walked out into the chilly night air. “I perform too, you know.”

“I know, but she has these huge dance numbers too. It must be exhausting.”

“Are you saying I need dance numbers in my performances now?” he asked, but he knew you were joking around. He was a close second in your list of favorite artists, and he was well aware of that.

You shook your head, shivering a little as the wind picked up. Harry pulled you close, resting an arm over your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his middle as you walked, pressing your cheek against his chest and savoring the warmth emanating from him.

You were both quiet as you walked down the street, content to just be next to each other. Until,

“You know I’m not from London, though, right?”

“Oh, I know. But Holmes Chapel boy doesn't have the same ring to it!”

Harry leaned down to brush his lips against yours. It was short and sweet and perfect, his most nudging yours as he pulled back just a little. “You’re right. I’ll have to give her a ring about that.”

“You have her number?”

[junedenim]

2007

beneath the boardwalk, part 5 (series masterlist)

my mistakes were made for you

warnings: angst, fluff, smut, robert, etc.

word count: 12.3k

I had my hair cut just above my shoulders but it was not a bob, I am adamant about this. I got a light fringe that I never wore full-frontal on my forehead. I was inclined to pull the two sections apart like a curtain or, regrettably, have them as side bangs.

After New Year's, I returned to London and left many things behind in Wakefield, most notably my journals. I was starting fresh and wanted to claim independence. Stacey gifted me a stack of Moleskine notebooks for Christmas that I wrote in and I began babysitting two girls (5 & 7) who lived in the building with their single mother, Lee, who was 6 years older than me. Georgia and I refused to turn on the heat because we weren't overflowing with cash, especially after my father and I agreed I would start paying rent after the three-month grace period he gave me. 

The other reason was we felt more like struggling artists, piled under blankets, wearing two pairs of socks, and heating meals in the microwave because they had grown too cold too quickly. Georgia would write poetry in her room then meet me in the living room and recite it. I was without an editor since Alex and I's parting. So, I began to share my writing with Georgia.  After we traded pieces, we would crack the window open and smoke cigarettes out of it. 

I was aware I was using Georgia to refill the Alex-shaped hole in my life. What Georgia and I were doing was what I dreamt for Alex and me. I had overwhelming happiness for Alex but I felt disappointed (and certainly jealous) that we didn't experience the struggling artist phase together. But Georgia was what I needed: a friend.

Madeline Critchley, who helped me submit to Granta, got me a position with the University of Greenwich's literary magazine, Anthology. It felt dumb to start at the magazine a few months before I was finished with school but she told me it didn't matter how much time I put into it but what I got out of it. It was cheesy but it ended up being true. I wrote endlessly, trapped inside that building. I was overcome by some being and she never let me stop.

*

I was invited to a secret gig at The Leadmill in February. Arctic Monkeys's tour director emailed the invitation. I thought about going but used the excuse of babysitting and RSVPed no. Georgia, her new girlfriend, Kyle, Dianna, Robert, and I went and saw Amy Winehouse instead. Obviously, I don't regret the decision.

Not speaking of Alex seemed an unspoken rule but I couldn't help but think of him when Amy came on stage. Not because I related her songs to Alex and our relationship but because the bastard got to meet her and didn't fucking introduce me to her!

Robert's place was a close distance from Astoria so we all, except Dianna, went back and crashed at his place instead of taking a 40-minute ride home on the underground late at night. Georgia and Kyle would sleep on the pull-out and Robert would share his bed with me.

Before we went to sleep, Robert and I smoked a joint in his room. It didn't do much for me, only making me tired-eyed. Robert was in a constant state of haziness. He wore leather pants and a turtleneck. His hair was overgrown and every movement he made bounced his curls. 

"Heard about you and Alex." It was the first time we had seen each other this semester. I had only told Georgia, she informed everyone else for me.

"Yep."

"Sorry 'bout that."

I shrugged. It wasn't something I wanted to talk about.

"Sucks we can't get free concert tickets now."

I huffed a laugh. "I didn't think you were much of a fan anyway."

"Well, you know, it's a good place to pick up girls." He eyed me. It was obvious.

"I didn't pay attention to that kind of thing."

"Oh, come on, like you weren't watching every girl there who could steal your man."

I shrugged again. I was never threatened by that idea or maybe I was just uncaring towards it.

"Your ambivalence is a man's greatest dream."

"He never did anything for me to not trust him."

"What about me?"

"Oh," I exaggeratedly rolled my eyes. "I'd never trust you."

We shared a laugh and the joint had reached its butt. He put it down. "So, shall we just get to fucking?"

I pushed off the wall and walked over to what had been deemed my side of the bed. "God, Robert."

"Come on. It's been a long time coming. We're here. We're single. It's our last year. We're never gonna be here again."

"You just want to get yours wet."

"So, you're wet? And hell yeah."

"Shut up."

"Let me kiss you."

"I'm going to bed."

"Fine. Me too."

We laid side-by-side for a minute before I kissed him and then we fucked. I don't remember much. I wasn't that drunk or high. It just wasn't very memorable.

*

Robert and I had a transactional relationship. Before we began hooking up this was the case and now that we were spending our nights together, we shared awful things with one another, none of which were words. Drugs seemed to be the biggest thing. A joint after sex was expected and by March, Robert and I were snorting coke with one another. It was quite enjoyable. For the time.

We ended up in Regent's Park one night. We sprawled across the vast grass. He called people—they weren't friends—on his Motorola Razr and switched between rambling with them and rambling at me. I brought my notebook and thought about writing but he was too loud.

I searched through my bag for something I never found and remembered when I came with Alex. I hated the infection of him but something about that night and picturing him on a bench next to me made me smile. 

I thought of guards changing. My first trip down to London when I was 10 and how Stacey and I stood, faces squeezing through the gates of Buckingham Palace to watch the New Guard replace the Old Guard. I couldn't understand how anyone would want to stand outside on sentry duty for hours. The relief when the New Guard showed up must have been such an enormous relief as their bladders ached and their shoulders begged for mercy. I wondered about the relief Alex felt as the New Guard replaced him. Or did he wish to continue to stand still by the palace's side? But the Old Guard becomes the New Guard eventually. They all just go spinning around. 

I wrote about the places we attribute to people. The corners of the world that just belong to them. (Alex, unbeknownst to me, had already done the same [505]). I left Alex's fingerprint out of the piece but it had him all smeared over it. I wrote about the Guard and Stacey's little head nearly trapped in between the metal bars. It was my favourite piece I wrote for Anthology. 

I sent it to Alex. He responded:

Buckingham Palace still has guards???? Are people still trying to actively kill the Queen?

I responded:

Diana's ghost.

Alex never sent me any of his work. I dreamt of a book one day appearing on my car roof. But my car stayed in Wakefield and Alex stayed nowhere. It was a rotten daydream.

*

In April, days before Favourite Worst Nightmare was released, the band played the Astoria for two nights. I hadn't heard any material yet, besides the recently released single "Brianstorm" and its b-sides, I had heard none of the album. It was unsettling not to know the songs. To not have the entire setlist memorized, front to back. 

My goal was always to be friends with Alex and going to the concert felt like solidifying this notion. Georgia found my need to befriend Alex so quickly after we had ended bizarre and unnecessary. But it had been months and I was ready to rip the Band-Aid. Georgia came with me. Robert insisted too. 

It did end up being bizarre. I was unacquainted with going to an Arctic Monkeys concert and not talking to Alex beforehand. When they came on stage, their appearances were much like when I saw them last. Alex hadn't changed one bit, but his demeanor had. He was stiffer, not in a good or bad way, just an indistinguishable way.

New additions met my ears well with the bass of "Balaclava" ringing through me for days to come. I shifted around "Do Me A Favour" as details became obvious that the subject matter was concerning us and our teary eyes. It made me fidget but I loved it so I couldn't quite complain about the feeling of irk I got. My opinion changed when it was followed by "Mardy Bum" where I knew all of this was a conscious choice. It was an attack on my heart whose walls were still susceptible to incursion.

I found myself relating to songs that weren't written for me like I was the average listener. "Leave Before the Lights Come On" had a different meaning standing next to Robert. I felt ashamed for that and that made me enraged by Alex because without moving a muscle I felt like he was dictating my life through my hippocampus only. 

After the show, we waited outside for the band. Georgia also found this insane. Robert said it was tragic but in a poetic way. I said they could go but both refused. 

Jamie came out first with Katie who wrapped her arms around me which could be deemed as a threat to my life if it wasn't so loving. She did the same to Georgia and I laughed at the way Georgia flailed her arms around.

The rest of the band followed with Alex's eyes wide and looking between the floor and me, unable to process the sight in a simple glance. "Alright! We're heading back to Robert's place!" Matt shouted. His eyes on Alex became clear he was teasing him. 

Regardless, I chuckled and hugged Matt. "No. I was hoping to join wherever you were going if you don't mind the intrusion."

"Never," Nick said, giving me a hug. Nick and I didn't know much about each other other than what Alex told each of us. I liked him because he had always greeted me with a wide smile, welcoming to all. He often seemed like he was just happy to be along for the ride wherever that ride took him. I like that quality very much.

As we walked out further into the street, the paparazzi snapped away, more at the band than the 3 dimwits following them, nevertheless, Robert began a potent rant against the invasion of paparazzi and how it was Big Brother and flexing that he had read 1984 as if it wasn't required reading for everyone in high school. He continued this the whole ride until we arrived at the pub.

It was premier service for a place that felt so unchic but I knew nothing about how the status of celebrity worked. Alex and I didn't go out enough for me to witness it. I had no qualms about using the complimentary service for my drinks. 

In the booth, Robert sat with his arm around me. Our displays were often limited to his flat but when he stood to go use the restroom and kissed my cheek I knew what he was doing. I had to laugh, it was impossibly amusing.  

I left for a cigarette. Alex followed a minute later. My back was against the wall as he approached. "Hi."

"Hi." I unconsciously handed him one. It was second nature.

He blew a puff out and asked, "You got a review for me?" That was also second nature.

I chuckled and shook my head, looking down at the floor. "Excellent as usual."

"Dry as ever, come on, Janie, you've got to give me more here."

I gave what I could. "I liked the new songs."

It seemed less jokey now as his laughter fell but he smiled at me sincerely. "Thanks."

"I'm sure the album will be great." I never doubted that. Even if he wrote the most scathing things about me, I would love it because he’d word it in such a way that I simply could not hate it.

Our conversation was like hitting a tennis ball back and forth but each time one of us hit it the other wouldn't hit it back. I thought about going inside. Then, he asked me, "You and Robert together?"

His bluntness had taken me aback and I focused on my cigarette to process the question. "Does Robert strike you as the boyfriend type?"

It made Alex laugh, which was the only relief in the world I would need. "I suppose not. Kissing you on the cheek and all—I'm sorry, not my business."

He was flustered, which made me laugh. He was small and cute when he was flustered, messing with his hair and shaking his head. "You know, he gets a kick out of making you jealous."

"Really?" Alex chuckled at the idea. I think Alex, for many years, viewed himself as the underdog, even if he was more famous, richer, cuter, and kinder than nearly anyone else I knew. 

"I think you make him feel insufficient. I'm not sure why but he's always felt a need to overcompensate when you're around."

"So, he doesn't do stuff like that usually?"

I never liked lying to Alex. "No. But in full transparency, we are doing the hook-up thing or whatever."

He verged on saying something but closed his mouth and scuffed out his cigarette. I joined him in dropping mine. "Lucky him."

I pushed him light-heartedly. "Shut up."

We returned inside and Robert's arm returned around me. Later, when we were saying our goodbyes for the evening, he was loud in his exclamation that we were leaving together and returning to his flat. I had to hide my laughter. Robert's usual too-cool-for-school conduct faded at the sight of Alex. It made it funnier when Alex pulled me aside while everyone was saying their goodbyes.

"Are you coming to the show tomorrow?"

I shook my head. 

"Come."

"I can't. I've got to babysit."

Matt interjected, "They let you around children?"

Before I could say anything, Alex told him, "Will you shut it, Matthew?"

When Matt moved away, Alex grabbed my hands. "Just come tomorrow. Another night of free drinks if you want."

I giggled at his earnestness. "I would if I could."

"Cancel. Come on."

"Al."

"Look, how many nights am I in town for? Come on, Janie."

His eyes wide, his mouth saying his name for me, and his hands clutching mine. I didn't say no.

*

My arms are crossed and my head is shaking the first time I hear "505" because I don't know what to make of it and I don't know what to make of this. Alex was dressed in a sky-blue Lacoste (this will be more relevant in a few years) and he pressed down on the keys as he pressed down on me.

I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I wasn't sure if I should cry or smile. The song left me uneasy and I felt I didn't know what was true anymore. That wavelength between us had been severed and I imagined Alex felt sad about our break-up but I never thought he was rethinking his actions and pining for that hotel room again. I had been the one to lament over our break-up and send it to him. He had stayed reserved in all his opinions and hid away his emotions. It wasn't a new thing by any means. But I did feel a sense of betrayal when I heard the information with 2,000 other people instead of under blankets and sheets, whispered in the dead of winter.

But I didn't want to talk about it so after the show I didn't bring it up. His mannerisms shifted from his awkward movement to more deliberately positioned as he hugged me after the show like he had done so many times before, sweaty.

"Drinks?" I asked him.

He moved back and forth between his left and right foot. "I was thinking I could see this new flat I keep hearing about." 

Everything was intentional and obvious. "It's not very fabulous."

He waved me off. "I'm sure you've gushed the place up."

"Gushed the place up?" I questioned his verbiage.

Alex rolled his eyes and squeezed my upper arm. "Come on. Let me see the grounds."

Off we went on the underground to my flat, just the two of us. He kept jumping in his seat on the way over, citing excitement. "It feels out of place that I haven't seen your place," he said.

"Yeah. I know what you mean."

On our way up the stairs to my flat, Alex tried to challenge me to a race but my feet hurt and I couldn't believe he still had enough energy after performing concert after concert. My back was slumped and Alex was standing up perked as I unlocked the door. 

"Georgia home?" He asked as we made our way through the door.

"With Kyle."

He nodded, tight-lipped. I could see the scene unfolding before him in his mind as we stood in the living room/kitchen hybrid. He looked around the room like he had actual interest in it before his eyes landed on me with a smile.

"Do you do this in every city?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Al. You're easy to read."

He stuffed his hands in his coat pocket as he tried to fight that grin bursting across his face. "I wanted to see your place."

I rolled my eyes and walked toward my bedroom. "Yeah, sure." He followed behind like an obedient puppy.

He was attentive in looking around the room, nearly all those trinkets he had memorized from my old room had been replaced with new ones. The poster flier from one of Georgia's poetry readings, the Amy Winehouse ticket stub, and the dumb joke from Alex's Christmas cracker were pinned on my mini bulletin board. The paper crown and mini deck of cards sat displayed on my desk. A slight upturn came to Alex's cheeks at the sight.

His gaze moved back to me. "A lot smaller than your room back home."

"Yeah. Rent's expensive and I'm paying rent now."

"Out from under your dad's thumb." Seeing him as pleased with this as I had been was a happy sight. Those long chats in hidden coves where we'd be independent together. But as always Alex was happy for me even without having him as codependence. 

Alex faked looking around my room more as I sat on the edge of my bed. He'd bend down to look at things like he was at a museum. His hands stayed in his pockets the whole time and he examined the corners and details of everything as if he'd be quizzed on it.

"Are you looking to see what you're going to steal from me?" I asked him.

He chuckled. "No, sorry. Just curious." He picked up the mini deck of cards, tossing it in his hands. "Round of Gin?"

"Alex." I wanted to be clear. "You came over here to play cards with me?"

His eyes were stuck on the deck's package, fiddling with the cardboard lid. "I just..." He shrugged multiple times and bounced on his feet. "I guess, I missed you, you know."

"Yeah." It was an easy sentiment to agree to because I feared I'd miss him for the rest of my life.

"We were in Tokyo a few weeks ago and I wanted to go see that Buddha you wrote about that, that, that—"

"Kamakura Daibutsu."

"Yeah." He looked down solemnly. "Wasn't there long enough to do it. I don't know. It just had me thinking about you and I know the relationship thing has sailed." 

I didn't believe that. I didn't want to believe that. I had held on to those hidden beliefs that after all the madness we'd return to each other's side and all would be well. An abyss grew in me that Alex didn't believe that too.

"But," he continued. "But just all that shite that I'd done to make it worse and I vowed I'd never do that and I'm sorry for being a total dickhead."

"I did things too that I knew would hurt you."

"You did nothing."

"I slept with someone in Aruba."

He froze, his stare on me as he processed the information. "Uh, that's fine."

I shook my head. "Don't do that. I don't want to start acting like my parents."

"I don't want tonight to be this depressing," he laughed wetly. 

"What did you want tonight to be?"

"I, I, to be—to hang out, to be with you."

"We could have done that at a pub. Why'd you want to come to my flat?" We looked at each other, both knowing the answer but waiting to see if the other would verbalize it.

He put the deck back on my desk and sat beside me. He stared forward at the wall for a moment before falling on his back. He rubbed his face as if to scrub it off, not wanting me to see the sight of it. My eyes never stopped following him. I was afraid to blink.

"My plan was to be all cute, tha knows."

"Aren't you always?"

The comment seemed to drop his guard a bit as he placed his hands on his chest. He took a deep breath and looked at me. His smile slowly grew as if it was being watered by the sight of me. "If you want to kiss me, you can."

I rolled my eyes and turned away from him but my smile was unavoidable.

"Come on." He tugged on my wrist. "You wouldn't let me endure one of the most embarrassing moments of my life."

I slapped away his hand's grip. "Quit mocking me."

He sat up. "I'm not mocking, Janie. I'm making the bad good." His face was right next to mine and it felt like the best move was to kiss him because kissing Alex could never be wrong even if he was leaving tomorrow and I would be left here.

So, therefore, having sex with Alex could never be an issue even though I slept with Robert the night before and I would sleep with him tomorrow. I wanted relief. The only solution was Alex in me. It was memorable.

*

His excitement worried me. "You're graduating in a few months. You could join us for festival season. It'll be in all those incredible places you want to go with beautiful weather. It'll be perfect. Where do you want to go? We'll go."

Lying in his arms had always been a comfort but now I felt this inevitability of hurting him with the false hope I had given. We lied on our sides, looking at each other, his hand draped over my waist.

"I don't know what kind of job I'll have after school. I might have to stay in London."

"We should hire you. You'll be our on-the-road journalist." His smile was infectious and I wished to have similar sentiments that once the obligation of school was done then we'd be fixed. But I wasn't going to kid myself.

I fell onto my back and clutched the bedsheet to my chest. "I think I'd be a bit biased. I don't want to be a journalist anyway."

"What do you want to be then, Janie?"

I shrugged. "I'll know when it's here."

Alex propped himself up on his elbow and quickly hovered over me. "You can't lie to me, Janie. You're a writer."

"Everybody's a writer," I argued.

He bit back a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't give me that shite for 4 years ago. You're a writer. I've seen it with my own two eyes."

"Well," I bite my lip, "there's this magazine, Granta, that I've submitted pieces to. I don't know if I want to do the whole freelance writer thing but I like writing what I want to write."

"Do it," he urged. "I'm not just saying that because you'll be able to come on the road with us."

I side-eyed him. "Sure."

"Have faith in me. I'm always looking out for the best for you. I'm always in your corner, Jane Cavendish."

It hit me. I knew it was the truth and he had always rallied for me so deeply even when we were far away from each other. "Ditto."

Alex rolled onto his back and looked at the ceiling. "Plus, you'll be able to see us headline Glastonbury."

I laughed but he didn't correct himself. I looked over and that smug bastard smirked at me and slowly nodded his head. "Fuck off. You're joking." He wasn't. Obviously.

*

Alex left for Liverpool at 6:30 AM. He shook me out of sleep saying he'd see me in a few weeks and kissed me.

Hours later, when I woke up, I would've figured I'd dreamt it if he hadn't written a note and placed it on my nightstand.

Come to Leadmill on the 21st & 22nd. I want a formal review. —A.T.

A couple of days later, Favourite Worst Nightmare dropped, including my—to this day—only songwriting credit on "Fluorescent Adolescent." I sent a text to Alex calling him a plagiarist. He told me to look out for the royalties check.

My relationship with Robert had remained unchanged but he gave the impression he knew what I had done with Alex. We never talked about it and when I left for Wakefield on the 20th he told me to tell the band he liked the album. I kissed his cheek. He was an annoying piece of shit but he was my friend. Few people understood it but we related to one another in a way I've never related with anyone. We were twin flames and it's why I couldn't handle him for more than a night at a time. We lit each other's fires but a fire is still a fire even if it keeps you warm on a cold night and burns you the next.

In Wakefield, my parents informed me they were moving. It had little to no effects on me other than sentimentality and having to clean out my childhood room. Stacey, however, would be uprooted and for that, I hurt.

My parents' guilt-tripped generosity allowed Stacey to attend The Leadmill show—her first Arctic Monkeys concert. She was slightly aware of the ambiguity of Alex and I's relationship and over the winter had prodded me for more. No one can claim to be a bigger fan of Alex Turner than Stacey, not even myself.

I wore my Arctic Monkeys tour T-shirt purchased at the London shows and Stacey wore the one I had purchased for her (I bought them at the merch table because it felt too awkward to ask Alex or the band for one. I used to just steal them. I decided to not hold the poor merch girl at gunpoint for a shirt). I drove my car there so Alex couldn't persuade me into drinks after. Stacey's coming eliminated any funny business. I wanted to get through school before starting anything up with Alex again. If I was even going to do that. I wasn't sure yet.

The setlist had a few new inclusions and Stacey jumped around freely. It was a beautiful sight of youth to see. It's the first time I really felt old at the thought that used to be me. Then, I felt stupid. I was a fresh 21, I had no clue how old old would really feel.

After the show, we congratulated the band on a good show and said good night. Alex told me to come to his parents' house before the show tomorrow. I accepted. I missed David and Penny. They would also be a good prevention buffer.

Up in his room, we sat on his bed and talked like the old days. There was much that had happened to talk about. Alex took the news of the house selling harder than me. I guess my sentimentality had rubbed off on him but I never viewed that house in the rose-coloured view that Alex did. But moments in my room I've locked away in my heart for just him and me. Things for only my ears to hear, my eyes to see, and my flesh to feel and vice versa for him.

After the show, we sat in my car.

"I feel like we're back to being 18," I told him.

"Why?"

I laughed to shield the seriousness with which I was speaking. "These trysts of ours."

"I already told Miles so." He had come out and performed "505" with them that night.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. "Of course you did."

He shrugged helplessly.

"I'm still—well, I continued my thing with Robert. I'm not gonna lie to you."

"I kind of figured."

"I don't know how I feel about starting this again. Always being so far."

Alex sighed and leaned forward on his elbow on the center console. "After you've graduated that might not even be an issue."

"I'm not gonna follow you around like a puppy dog for years, Alex."

"I don't expect you to. But it could be fun this summer. After that, there'll be a break and we'll go wherever you pick. Swear it." He stuck his pinky out.

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked at his sweet face, always seeing so much with those big eyes. I loved him to pieces. Through all the struggles, there was that sweet face. So, I wrapped my pinky around his.

*

Alex was in Orlando when I graduated. He sent me a long email that is too long and personal to be printed in full here but here's an excerpt.

I think you should be a food reviewer that way we get into all the best restaurants that I'm not elegant enough to get into. Or you could just bat your eyelashes. Either would work I'm sure.

Be whatever you want. You'll be the best at it. Unless you want to do my job then stick to your day job otherwise I'll be out of one. Call me after, whenever you can. I wish I was there so imagine I am. It'll make me feel better.

He sounded like a dad. Some version of Atticus Finch morphed into a buffoon. I thought for hours about how to respond to the email. My eyes began to hurt so I just sent him photos from the day that Georgia had taken. 

Georgia hid her discrepancies with me over abandoning the flat to "run off with Alex" as she said every time I brought up my summer plans. I sublet my room with full intentions of returning in September. 

Robert was messier. We mutually seemed to agree that our sexual relationship would come to an end in May when we graduated. Robert held plans of going to New York and being a vagabond and I felt settled in London. Our activity had grown sparse after my trip to Yorkshire but didn't cease.

Two nights before graduation, I told him of my plans for the summer. He nodded along but laughed when I finished. "Whatever, Jane, be a fucking groupie all your life."

"I'm not."

He laughed maliciously at me. "I think you're scared of what comes after uni so you're clinging to this rich, successful ex-boyfriend. Play second fiddle to him. That's fine."

He was jealous. But I worried he was right.

*

I met up with the band in Dublin, which seemed fitting. It was easy to fall into the old habits of 2005 when I joined the band during the summer. However, Alex and I's relationship hadn't returned to what it had been. I slept in his bunk due to lack of space but that wasn't difficult. We struggled more with communication.

Their two shows in Dublin were messy and fanatical in the crowd. I stood backstage and listened to people singing along to a song I wrote. It didn't feel as out-of-body as I imagined and I wondered if Alex felt the same way when he heard the crowd singing along with him. 

In between their first and second show in Dublin, Alex and I escaped to Wicklow, much to the annoyance of his management who worried the whole day that he had ditched the show. We returned in time, although we did cut it close.

We hiked the Glen Beach Cliff where the ocean kissed the mountains and I knew Alex wanted to complain the whole time but he didn't. His shoes were old, the seams nearly ripped open as we hiked the 3 miles. Below us, on the beach, were seals. It felt like a different world compared to the one we had experienced last night.

As we walked downhill, Alex wrapped his arm around me and despite nearly tripping several times and knocking me down with him, I refused to let him remove the arm. 

"Are we dating again?" He asked.

It had been a largely neglected topic, mostly because I hadn't made my mind up about it. It was easy to be with Alex but being with Alex when we weren't actually with each other was frustrating. My biggest worry had always been ruining our friendship over the failure of our romantic relationship. Still, I wasn't sure of anything. "I guess."

He lightly chuckled. "That was enthusiastic."

"I'm sorry. I guess my question remains about what will happen after summer." The wind swirled around us and I tried my best to keep my hair out of my face.

"That's more a question for you than for me. You know what I want but I'm going to be happy for you whatever way you go. You know that right?" Alex has always been insistent on making sure I know he's steadfast in his support of whatever direction I decide to head and he has held true to that (mostly).

"Then, I'll need time to think about that. See what opportunities come my way this summer."

He nodded and tugged me closer. "This is over in December and then I'm all yours. Besides, I've already called you me girlfriend so you can't go back on it now."

In my sarcastic nature, I tossed my head on his shoulder, sounding, "Ugh! Don't be presumptuous, Al."

*

I got my favourite pair of sunglasses stolen at Glastonbury and I will hunt down the thief until the day that I die. Not that sunglasses were required for much of that day. The sky was dim, the ground was muddy, and it rained the whole weekend. We got there a day early to settle and like any night before a big show, it was spent drinking and horsing around late into the night.

Alex and I didn't get to bed until way past midnight and even then we had left Jamie, Matt, and other mates still fucking around. As we got ready for bed Alex had grown quiet, slow in his movements, and shrinking down into the small bed.

We laid down together and silence was awkward and he felt stiff. "You nervous?"

"Yeah," he laughed out in an effort to mask his nerves.

I curled my arm around and hugged him. I did my best to comfort him the way he always did for me. I held him tight and tried to possess a shoulder to cry on the best I could. "You know, I'll still love you even if you make a fool of yourself."

"Thanks." I leaned back to look at him as he struggled with a smile. His hand reached up and pushed my hair behind my ear. He held my cheek and it felt like his muscles had finally relaxed. "I'll try my best not to. I know you don't want to be stuck with a fool." 

"Aren't you already?"

He rolled his eyes and was relieved with a laugh. "Maybe only for you."

"That's so cheesy. You should be put in jail."

"As long as you were there."

I slapped a thunk onto his arm. "Stop it, you. I'll imprison you. Shush!"

He resisted my push away from him, wormed his arm under me, and landed the other over me. He wiggled us close and he felt like a preheated oven as my bones were left out to defrost. "Are you happy? Excited?"

Alex often needed me to reassure him during this period of our lives, especially after we got back together. That summer our relationship was ambiguous and it was easy for Alex to fear that at the first sign of unhappiness, I would ditch him. He wasn't exactly wrong. I wouldn't have left if Glasto sucked but if I became unhappy with Alex, it was an easy out for me. I've always appreciated easy outs.

"Yeah. I wish I had a camera. Then, I could sell them all to The Sun and make a killing."

"Is all this okay with you?" More questions. Another valid one. An undiscussed topic had often been I, an at-the-time unknown, being pulled into the public eye for my attachment to Alex. It's not like he was some tabloid superstar but it didn't leave me as a virtual unknown, especially with the band only getting bigger.

I nodded, my ear rustling against the pillow. "No stalkers. Except maybe you." He hadn't left my side since we arrived. I couldn't complain one bit. For once, I wasn't the clingy one.

He mused, "What can I say? I love you."

"Stop." Too cheesy, too cheesy.

Alex laughed into his pillow. He softened up and inched closer to me on our tiny bed. "Why didn't you bring your camera?" My photograph production had declined since college but I still held onto the habit.

I frowned. "It broke right before graduation."

"The ol’ Canon finally bit the dust,” he joked. It had been the only camera I ever owned. I used my mother’s old cameras when I took that photography class with Matt. I never bothered investing more in it than what I could borrow. “We can pick up another one."

I sighed. "Too much money. I'm an independent woman now."

"Oh, damn, you need me to be your daddy now."

I pushed him off the bed.

*

We mudded up our wellies the following day to see Amy Winehouse before the rain poured in full force again. I think it relaxed everyone to feel like we went to Glasto just to enjoy it and not actually headline it. We nodded our heads along with the songs and stood with our hands stuffed into our pockets. 

Opposing Alex's nerves, I was wracked with excitement. I went off into my own world during Glastonbury and wanted to enjoy the hippie nature and the history. I loved the whole weekend. The nights after watching The Killers and The Who and I'm pissed with Arctic Monkeys to this day for having me miss Björk to watch their stupid headline set.

Dressed in their overcoats and Matt with his Adidas track pants, their set went off without a hitch and I had fun dancing with Katie and briefly with Dizzee Rascal before he joined them onstage for "Temptation Greets You Like A Naughty Friend." The road had and would be lonely but it was eased a little bit by having another girl by my side. When Miles came out and joined the band for "505" I thought of Eva. I hadn't talked or heard about her since The Little Flames disbanded. I shamed myself for it. I had become a person who held onto objects that reminded you of a person as an excuse to no longer see them.  The thought crossed my mind that Georgia was my only friend and I hadn't talked to her since I joined the band on the road. Then, Katie hugged me to her side and I felt a little less lonely.

I had grown desensitized to the meaning behind Alex's songwriting. I never stopped and thought about how he was singing songs that were rooted in our break-up because it no longer seemed important because we were together and how the past could affect the future. But there was this moment during "Do Me A Favour" where he had seemed rather emotional, furiously strumming his guitar and rushed singing close to his microphone. I felt ashamed for not having the same reaction as him. I felt like I was missing a gene by not crying at "Mardy Bum" or not swooning at "I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor" but I suppose night after night, I just became numb to the meanings of those songs. I wish I hadn't. I wish I enjoyed it more but everything felt fleeting so I made no effort to cherish moments at that age.

When they got off stage the thought had floated away and we were ready for a night of exhausted celebration. The weather was rough and the band had their casual round of press before we enjoyed drinks and party favours in the camper. Alex and I made out against the door of a porta-potty at one point. It was very disgusting.

*

I fulfilled more travel fantasies with this tour. The limitations no longer sat in Great Britain and Ireland as we moved up to Scandinavia, first stopping in Oslo. I was set loose and skipped their concert, instead visiting the Akershus Fortress and seeing "The Scream" at the Munch Museum finally returned to its home after being stolen in 2004 (although, I'm partial to Munch's "Madonna" but that's neither here nor there). In Stockholm, I continued this by going to the Vasa Museum and in the evening hiking up to Skinnarviksberget and watching the sunset, but, sadly, no Northern Lights.

We continued the festival run going through Germany and then Rock Werchter where at this point I should have broken the world record for seeing Lily Allen live as I once again watched her on the Pyramid Marquee before seeing my boys on the Main Stage.

A festival or so later, a day off was given before their Paris show, and, in a way, I finally got my Parisian dream. The hotel was nice and the toilet worked like how a normal toilet works but Alex and I shared a room. Privacy for the first time since his room in Sheffield. We did the obvious, a few times.

It's weird to put it how sex works with Alex and me. It's like a weird recalibrating device. I suspect it's because our relationship started through it that whenever we need to get back on the same page fucking seems to help. It was late and we shared a cigarette after because you can do that then in Paris. I would talk, he would smoke it, then he would talk, I would smoke it.

"You and Katie have become best mates," he said. Katie had returned back to England a few days prior and I once again was the lone girl.

"I like her a lot. She's a calm presence amongst the chaos."

"Yeah, she's done Jamie a world of good. Calmed him a bit." That was undeniably true. Jamie had always been a kind and caring guy but he had an uncontrollable craze at times and a mouth that poured at things that maybe shouldn't have been said. Katie seemed to kick him and keep him in check.

I have always been fascinated with how people change people. Somewhere at our center these people worm their way in and change your hardwiring or maybe they just expose what has always been there. "Have I calmed you?"

Alex chuckled. "Quite the opposite I think."

"Hey!" I became jokingly affronted. "I can be a calm presence. You lot are the ones who are messing around so much."

He continued to laugh at me. Eyes bright and smile light. He reached over and began to pet my hair. "I don't think calm would be the right word." I thought about hitting his chest but that would prove his point. "I just think you've made me more confident."

It was a peculiar thought to me. I didn't feel confident most of the time and I was nowhere near the confidence of going on stage and headlining festivals as a band's frontman. "How?" I asked.

He reached back to stub out the cigarette on the ashtray on the bedside table but he kept his hand steady on the side of my head, rubbing smooth circles. He returned closer and with a soft smile. "In a lot of ways. Your encouragement." I couldn't argue with that. Alex had done the same for me tenfold. "I feel like if you believe in me, even if I fuck up out there, you'll still be here." I wanted to always be there. I hated how life got in the way and people stayed and others went and I just wanted to stay in little corners of the world with Alex forever. But in those early years, it was an impossibility. We tried our best. 

"Plus, you're smoking hot." I rolled my eyes but I was, of course, charmed by the comment (I mean, I wrote it here for a reason. I want everyone to know he finds me smoking hot). "Do you know the power I have by having you as a girlfriend? For god's sake, Robert almost kicked my ass over you."

I pushed away from him. "Ew. Don't talk about Robert when I'm naked."

"Why? You've been naked with him."

Forces froze and I waited to see if he had more to say or if I had anything to say but we both felt chilled by the awkwardness. I slowly sat up more against the headboard and rested back against it. "Were you hurt by that?"

"What?"

"Me having sex with Robert because you don't really have a right to be pissed." I was defensive because I was in the right but I also framed his words as an attack.

Alex was slow in his response, I guess he was trying to find the best way to say what he was thinking without me biting his head off for it. "No. I mean, you're right. There's no reason to be pissed."

I wanted to know his real feelings. I knew he wouldn't shame me for doing it but I wondered if he felt the act of Robert and I's relationship was an attack against him. I played with my fingernails and we didn't make eye contact. We were two planks beside one another. "But were you?"

I peeked over. His shoulders shrugged and he looked down at his hands. We were mirror images of each other. "I don't know. I mean, I don't like the idea of you being with anyone else. Truthfully, Robert annoys me so I guess that confused me or upset me more. But I love you, you know." He looked over. Insistent on this part. "And that's not going away. I figured that out a long time ago. As much as I love the idea that I get to be with you for...you know, I know that I can't get everything I want. But I want you to get all that. I want it more for you than for me. You got that?"

It took me a while to regain control. I was stuck between smiling so wide my face ripped into two and crying until my eyes fell out. I took a shaky breath. "Yeah. But I want all that for you too so you're right back to getting everything you've wanted again because I want that."

"You're always forcing me to take care of myself, Janie."

I hugged him. I needed to touch him. To hold him. I whispered into his neck, "It's 'cause I love you, you know."

*

When the tour went on break I went with Alex to Black Box Studios in Maine-et-Loire, France where he and Miles recorded the first Last Shadow Puppets album. The whole album was recorded in a matter of 2 weeks but nothing about it was rushed. The landscape was lush and the downtime felt like something out of an Eric Rohmer film.

On the last few dates of the tour, we ended up in Sydney. It was the only time during the tour that I got the urge to call my mother. I didn't because my Nokia couldn't call that far but I sent her and my father a postcard and I bought Stacey Uggs, authentic Uggs. We had a day off where we went to Bondi Beach where Matt and I braved the cold water. Afterwards, we visited the zoo where I got to hold a koala. I felt like holding a baby, except with the softest fur imaginable. Afterward, I pouted about not being allowed to own one so Alex bought me a koala stuffed animal.

A week after, the band went to play Summer Sonic in Osaka and Tokyo. I went back home for a week. It wasn't intentional, the dates just lined up that way but it felt best to skip such a rough place. Alex has a habit of embodying the mood of places based on memories. This behavior can likely only exist for a guy who has been to so many places.

I joined The Last Shadow Puppets a few days into recording. When I arrived, Miles and Alex had just returned from riding their bikes together. They looked like twins, shaggy-haired and brown-eyed boys. Alex threw his bike down and tossed his arm over to me like we were two buds, just getting off our shift at work. It filled me with endless excitement. Then, Miles came over and cupped my face, pinching my cheeks. I slapped him away and we went inside and had dinner.

At that dinner table, I could picture a whole future. Ones where Alex and I had Miles over our house, our little stray puppy. Nights where we all went out drinking and he crashed on our couch. Miles and I would both be hungover and Alex would give us painkillers and make us scrambled eggs.

Side-by-side, Alex and I brushed our teeth. It was a greater act of love than a marriage proposal.

*

I had begun to videotape these Shadow Puppets. On the morning of my second day there, Alex and I were lounging around in bed when he told me he had a little present. He came out with a camera, a Pentax 17. 

"For me?" I pointed to myself, holding the delicate thing, cradling it like my baby.

He snorted a laugh. "Who else?" He petted my hair back and he was the sweetest man who ever lived. 

In those two weeks, I didn't have many subjects. Most of the footage and pictures were of Miles and Alex. James Ford, who produced and drummed with the Puppets, made some appearances. I slipped by in a couple too. I began to develop this plan to make a documentary on the band. It fell through, mainly because when they went to do the orchestral parts of the album in December, I couldn't go, and I was also lazy. They used some of it for a 4play documentary but it wasn't the vision I had. Alex says I would have won an NME award (I have desperately wanted to win one solely for the middle finger trophy. Alex has plenty, only one on display for joking sake, but I would beg to win one. It might have been my only chance). It probably would have sucked. I've never worked with actual film to make a movie. I never worked with anything to make a movie because I've never made a movie. I will never make one either. Because I am lazy. But, I guess, I'll get through the rest of this book and stop interrupting the flow of the story by telling you I'm getting ready to write more of this book which you will read now. Or now. Now. Now. Now. Now. Now.

Now, I have filmed much more on that camera other than Miles and Alex skipping through great fields and picking daisies, although I still shoot that too. If I could submit home videos for the NME Awards, I would have won one by now.

Most afternoons we rode bikes around the tiny town. I would occasionally drop into the studio out of pure boredom but I spent the majority of my downtime writing or exploring. One afternoon, the trio of us biked by Château d'Armaillé.  It was a lofty manor contrast to the farms and livestock breeders we usually biked by. I stopped and stared as I usually do.

"Can you believe people lived in that thing?" I questioned, completely mesmerised.

Alex laughed, already pleased with his joke. "Yeah, isn't that the size of your family home?" 

*

On our last night there we had a little dinner party with everyone we had come across at Black Box Studios in the two weeks we had been there. Since this was pretty much the middle of nowhere, there were very few people. But it felt celebratory to end this little project with gloriously catered French food and playing dress-up. It was mainly an excuse for me to wear a vintage dress I had found at a used clothing store in Nantes when I was waiting for a car out to Black Box. 

It was a white drop-waist dress with a little bow on the side of my hip and a skirt with a light lace overlay. It was paired with a cloche hat that I regretfully didn't buy, but I still have the dress. Alex wore a button-down and slacks but Miles and I talked him into wearing a stupid top hat that had been lying around Black Box for the 2 weeks we were there. Alex ended up taking it home with him, although he does not still have it. Miles wore shorts, a grey T-shirt, and a bowtie. 

The food and conversations were far more important with the most delicious potatoes I've ever tasted that were mixed with a sauce that I might forever be wondering what it was but my tongue can still feel the taste. The wine was white and Alex dropped his glass on the floor halfway through the dinner, which he doesn't want me to mention, which means I totally will be mentioning it (obviously).

His arm rested on the back of my chair and our plates had long been cleared and the dessert, Gâteau Nantais (a delicious almond pound cake, soaked in rum, and topped with glaze—I really, really liked these meals), had been picked away at. I was still eating the crumbs of my second slice and Alex drank from his new wine glass. I could see futures, but for the first time, I felt like this was the future. Friends, old and mostly new, surrounded us and we drank and ate and talked and laughed and the warmth of Alex radiated on me. I was in love with everything.

"Will Jane be heading back on the road for North America?" James asked Alex. 

He turned to me with his teeth showing, smiling enough for sparks to come off it. Pride radiated off of him; it still makes me want to cry. "As of this morning, Miss Cavendish has a job with Simon & Schuester." 

When I told Alex, I was cautiously concerned that his worries would overshadow the news, but I never doubted he'd be happy for me. I got the call when he was brushing his teeth. I told him when he returned to our room and he grabbed my hands and made me jump on the bed with him. (Shall I avoid the Monkeys Jumping on the Bed joke?).

The table cheered loudly and drunkenly. "Oh, shit, I know those two boys!" Miles, sooooooo drunk, exclaimed. I bashfully tucked my chin down, avoiding the attention. 

Alex's hand skimmed over my left shoulder. He bent down to kiss my downturned cheek and it was like my crush just kissed the spot—my cheeks flushed red and my heart pounded on the gates of my ribs. 

I waved for the noise to quiet down. "It's just an editorial assistant position."

Alex squeezed my shoulder, looking over at me, and rolling his eyes. "Cut it with that rubbish, Janie. It should have been the first thing we cheers to when we sat down."

He reached for his wine glass and I shoved his arm away. "Stop it. You're flustering me." His breath smelled of Chardonnay and his behavior spelled out drunk—his bubbly drunk phase, which is the most flattering phase. He leaned over kissing my cheeks repeatedly making the table erupt in noise again. I took a grip on his face and tried to push him away.

"I've made you all red," he boasted. Alex's face was all red too but it was likely more to do with the alcohol than me. "It's time to cheers, Janie." He motioned toward my almost empty wine glass. I shook my head. "Time to cheers, Janie," he insisted. 

"You sure you aren't going to drop your glass again?" I teased.

"Oh, shut it, you," he said, but he laughed and tugged me close to him. I almost thought he was going to give my head a noogie.

He drank all the wine out of his glass before raising it. "To Jane Cavendish, Simon & Schuester Editorial Assistant."

*

I started on a Wednesday and I did little editing in my editorial position. But Helen, one of the editors, gave me old drafts they hadn't published and the book and told me to pick all the differences out and she would be quizzing me on it the next day. I went out drinking with Lee and Georgia and came in hungover the next day. Helen said I was the first editorial assistant she had that didn't fall for the quiz prank. That endeared her to me and she became my mentor.

Alex was off doing interviews about virginity for the Virgin Fest and I had never been more thankful I didn't lose my virginity to him. I used to wish that and tell Stacey when assuring her not to lose it so young. But it's probably best since I'd associate the time I lost my virginity with an interviewer from AXS Uncut asking Alex to name virgins.

I had moved back in with Georgia and her new girlfriend, Kyle, who was always a sweetheart, even if she didn't do the dishes. They weren't the annoying kind of couple to live with. They weren't loud and I never felt like the third wheel around them. It was easy for my mind to drift to Alex. I would relive the way Black Box felt. While the majority of it felt like a vacation, at its core, we were coming home each night together. The home is what we lacked on the road and the togetherness is what we lacked at home. I just thought of him being in my bed, sleeping. I always liked the way he looked sleeping.

Alex called more than he did on the last tour. I guess he had learned a lesson. Being in North America was a bit easier than when he'd been in the Eastern Hemisphere since he was only 6 hours behind. He'd call me when I got off work before he'd perform his concert and we would talk of the monotony of my day. A couple of hours later, usually while I was sleeping, he'd text me about how the concert went. It was usually only one word: "Good." "Great." "Best." "Sucked." "Wanker." "Drunk." 

We had fallen into a pattern and although it seemed dull, it was successful. My heart still ached and sometimes the sight of Georgia and Kyle made me want to stick my head in the oven, but he was there when I needed him, even though he couldn't be here.

Working felt comfortable and, for once, I eased into that comfort. I got after-work drinks with editors and fellow editorial assistants. I'd joke around with superiors at work and I'd go home to Georgia and Kyle, who had made dinner for me. Georgia was working various gigs, but still heavily focusing on poetry. Kyle worked as a set developer, which meant our living room looked like a craft store had exploded. I didn't mind. I spent most of my off-time in my room and would only venture to the living room when we watched TV together.

However, when the North American leg finished at the beginning of October, Alex dropped by, and with a clicking of his tongue and the shaking of his head, he said, "Oh, Janie. You've got glitter everywhere." He said this in front of Kyle, so I hit the back of his head and dragged him to my bedroom.

Alex's stay at our flat during October was never agreed upon, he just showed up and I'd never turn him away. A week in, however, Georgia asked me when it was just the two of us in our kitchen, early in the morning before I headed off to work, "So, is he like living with us now?"

I shrugged. "No. I mean, he'll be back on the road before the end of the month."

"How do you feel about that?" What a good therapist she would be.

"Better than last time. I'm occupied now. I don't have to worry about lying around all the time thinking of him."

"You're a big girl now, Cavendish. But if he stays past a month, he will have to pay rent."

I laughed out loud. "I doubt he'll be living here with us."

"All I’m saying is rich rockstar can pitch in on groceries."

I told Alex of this conversation and he took me to the store to point out all of Georgia's favourite food goodies and bought them for her. Georgia felt bad after that until she had Jelly Babies. Then, she insisted Alex buy groceries every week.

On Alex's last night at the flat, he bought takeaway for everyone and watched I'm a Celebrity...Get Me Out of Here! with us. Several jokes were made about Alex doing the show, but I don't think Alex could eat a bug or be stuck with Katie Hopkins for a month. After dinner, Georgia and Kyle left for a "late-night poetry reading" or more likely avoid-the-lovebirds game.

Alex and I showered, changed into pajamas, and brushed our teeth together. In two parentheses, curled to bookend one another, Alex brushed his hand down my side. I told him, "I hope you get a good tan in South America."

"I'm too pale for you, Janie?"

"Maybe your butt," I giggled. It was some form of drunk-in-love. I felt rush through me every time he looked at me. It was like taking a hit.

"Wish you could come with us," he said. He was sober in his tone but his eyes were glazed over.

"Me too, but I'm happy here. I love my job and it sucks to not be with you but—"

He smiled—beamed bright and overwhelming. "But you're happy." He curled into me. My manners had transferred to him as he curled his arms around me and dug his face into my neck. "I'll be back for a week in November."

"And you'd come back here?" I questioned. There was a touch of uncertainty in everything we did that year, mostly because we had never even said we were back together and the other part was the reason for our break-up.

Alex lifted his head, his smile still showing. "Yeah." He sounded so happy and sunny. It was a cocoon of bliss. The young love I had always wanted. His fingers traced over my shoulder, making little finger drawings. His eyes looked down on his creation, avoiding my eyes. "And then we've got two shows here in December and then that last show in Manchester, which I thought maybe you could take off work and come up for. It's on a Monday so understandable if you can't."

I smiled at him but I'm unsure if he saw it due to his shy gaze dodging my face. "I'll try my best. I'll definitely be at the London ones."

His face was aglow but attentive to his finger tracing. "And then I was thinking, maybe—I don't know—maybe I'd come back to London."

I lightly chuckled. "You're not banned from the city. You're always welcome here. Georgia and Kyle like you a lot."

"I like them too but I was thinking we could stay somewhere else."

"What? Like a hotel?"

He finally looked me in the eye. "No, maybe we move in together. Like, get our own place. Maybe. It was just a thought."

It pleased me to no end. The thought wrapped its way around me the first time we slept together and over three years later to encounter the reality of it, I couldn't believe it. "A flat for just the two of us?"

"Yeah. I know you like it here but maybe we could find somewhere that I'm not finding specks of glitter all over my clothes."

I giggled all over him. "Yeah, yeah. I'd like that too. I'd like anywhere as long as you're there."

Alex shook his head with a big smile like he couldn't believe it. He hugged me, kissing my cheek, and then...then we did other stuff, you know.

*

People have asked me if Alex plays songs for me. They've imagined a world in which Alex sings me a lullaby every night. And I guess the answer is "yes" but I'd say more of a "sort of" situation. Alex would often strum his guitar to me but not in a dedicative format. It was something he would have done if I was there or if I wasn't. So, I would say he never did it for me.

Except once.

He was back in London and he had arrived late the night before. I was in my jammies and my slippers when he arrived and he made fun of me for my pajama pants that had Christmas elves printed on them. 

I was waiting on my bed for him to return from the bathroom. He came back, chilly from the lack of heating; Georgia and I weren't turning it on again this winter. He paced around my room before he asked, "Can I play you something?"

I furrowed my brows. "Like a song?"

He nodded and picked up his guitar. "I'm gonna do it on Radio 2 tomorrow. Like a little teaser for what's to come."

"So, this is a song for the next album?"

He shrugged. "Maybe." We never talked about the next thing, which was a problem and not a good choice for our reunited relationship.

Alex adjusted his guitar on his lap and sat in front of me, playing "Fire and the Thud" to me. He had never been that overtly romantic in a song before. Songs on the previous two albums never felt like love songs, but rather songs of longing or infatuation. But it felt like he had written this song for me as he played it for me. 

It would be one of the sweetest things anybody has ever done for me if he didn't go on to do even more songs for me. Not to brag or anything.

After he put his guitar down, I curled my arms around his neck and yanked him down with me to lay back on the bed. "You like it?"

"Loved it. I love everything you write."

"Yeah, but you really loved this one right?"

"Sure."

*

A few weeks later, when Alex and I returned from the final show of the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour, we moved into a new flat. Together. I had picked the flat out. Alex said whatever I liked he'll like and I wasn't going to argue being the sole picker. 

We moved in at a record speed, mainly because I had very little stuff and Alex had nothing, everything still back home in his childhood bedroom. My parents had officially moved down to Bath and I had received scathing phone calls from Stacey. I still feel sorry for that poor teenage girl.

Alex and I got a studio, which I liked because it felt artsy and a total adult thing to share a studio with your boyfriend. Later, it would be the start of many fights between Alex and me because I never had any privacy.

We had our bed in one corner, the kitchen in the other, and a small bathroom down the hall. Plus, it was in Clerkenwell, which was closer to work. We had his record player on the floor and a shared dresser. It was a greater act of love than sex or writing songs. It was his things mixed with mine.

We weren't there for very long. We each went back to our family's homes for Christmas, which suddenly was no longer the same area. Our time apart was short and when we returned we cleaned up the rest of our shared apartment and decided to have a New Year's Eve party.

It was wild debauchery from start to finish. Though we provided liquor, it seemed like every guest came with their own stash. I hadn't realized how many friends Alex had in London. His number of guests heavily outweighed mine but it didn't have much of an issue. Everything was communal and it was truly a night where everyone seemed free. Maybe it was the New Year's part or maybe it was being in the start of our early 20s. When I look back on this time, I forget how young I was. 17 and slutting up the streets at Barnsley and how in 4 years, I had obtained an establishing job and lived in London with my boyfriend. It was a dream book experience and like most things it was a small portion of our lives. But I felt straight out of a movie with this ending to the year I had received. 

Katie and I hid in a corner to talk close together to avoid all the noise. We shared a drink and both drowned in heavy alcohol consumption but we loved each other very much and I knew we'd be friends forever (I was very drunk when I thought this and slurred this to her but time has held this statement to be true. Drunk words are sober futures). "I'm going to marry him," I told her. We were watching Jamie attempt to throw Alex over his shoulder, fireman-style. Alex was a sweet ragdoll, laughing about and swaying.

Jamie was the loyal rescuer. "I'm going to marry him too," she slurred back to me. "We'd be like band sisters-in-law."

"Aw," I cooed. "I don't have a sister-in-law." (I mean, I do, my brother's wife, but I was referring more to Alex being an only child and I was wildly drunk. Forgive me, Cecilia).

"Then I can be yours!"

Before midnight, only a minute or so before, Alex and I huddled up in the kitchen with our closest friends of the bunch. Matt and Jamie were arguing about who had drunk more and we all watched on laughing. I was burrowed under Alex's arm. He was the cave I chose to hibernate in this winter.

"Don't forget the beer you had before coming here," Alex egged Matt on.

"Yes! And the beer I had 'fore coming here!" Matt sloppily shouted to Jamie. 

I pulled on Alex's hand he had thrown over me. "Don't they know I'm the drunkest?"

Alex chuckled. "Yes, with that breath you probably are." He was quite sober compared to the rest of us. Mostly because he knew how drunk I would be getting and somebody had to make sure our new place didn't get destroyed. 

I pulled back, offended. "It is not that bad."

"Yes, it is," he laughed.

"So bad you won't kiss me at midnight?" I hung off of him. You'd think we were in some basement in Wakefield.

He moved his hand down to the arch of my back to steady me. "I could never not kiss you."

My eyes snapped over to him, and I raised my eyebrows with a smirk. "Really? I don't recall that being the truth."

He laughed again. "Fair enough." But then he leaned in and kissed me until way after midnight, making out in the kitchen. It was disgusting and I loved the whole thing.

Nick knocked into us as he moved through the kitchen. "I'd tell you to get a room but we're all in it." He laughed, pleased with his joke, and moved to grab another beer.

Later in the evening, Nick threw up on our bed. Nick was the drunkest. 

Somewhere around one in the morning, I sat on Alex's lap and his arms were around me, holding me close to him as I talked to Georgia on one side of the couch and Alex talked to Miles on the other side of the couch. We held separate conversations about separate lives but he held me to him and he held me tight.

*

a/n: sigh, this is all i can think about writing as of late. i am a series girl after all.

[lomlhwa]

only your scars (c.bg)

pairing: fiancé!beomgyu x fiancée!reader

preview: beomgyu struggled with self harm for a long time. all of that changed when he met you. he hasn't cut in ages. but now that you want to be intimate, he has to confess about his past.

warnings/tags: fem reader, mentions of self harm, mentions of scars on thighs and wrists, WOLFCUT GYU, scar kissing, praise, lipstick marks, mutual pining, pet names (my love, mommy, momma, my beomie), subby beomgyu oml, so much kissing, hand holding, crying (kinda the sexy kind, kinda not), riding yay, lots of ass grabbing, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies

trigger warnings: there's only one brief description of active cutting and that's it. the scars are an active mention though.

wc: 2.0k

song recs for this fic: o sole mio by sf9, blame me by monsta x, she's the one by monsta x, fairy of shampoo by txt

a/n: i didn't plan this but i'm dedicating this to @toxicccred because she's so sweet and i think she deserves some comfort (before anyone attacks me, i struggled with cutting.)

beomgyu has never loved anyone more than he loves you. his love for you is immeasurable. you keep him grounded and make him feel safe just by being in the same room as him. you remind him why he’s still fighting for himself. fighting to keep going. 

honestly, beomgyu used to cut himself. wrists, thighs, pretty much any open expanse of skin that he could cover up with clothes and/or jewelry. as much as he hated the sight of blood, and the way the scars changed his skin, he did it all the time. he was ashamed of his coping mechanism but honestly, it worked.

he slowly accumulated a plethora of scars over the years. some faded, some still bright red. whenever there were just too many healed ones, he’d feel the compulsion to make new ones. 

but all of that overwhelming negativity came to an abrupt halt the day you confessed to him. the day you told him how your heart decided to perceive him. tears filled his eyes and his lip quivered as you spoke to him.

“i like you, choi beomgyu,” you said. a smile spread across your beautiful face and he could tell that you meant it. you looked deep into his soul that day and found something in him to fall in love with. 

“i like you too, y/n y/l/n,” he had responded. you almost didn’t hear him when he told you he reciprocated. his voice was so shaky and he had spoken quietly to try and keep his voice steadier.

once you knew it was mutual, you spent every waking moment together. you went on every date imaginable with beomgyu. you went to dinner, on walks in the park, took vacations together and even just had movie nights at one of your houses.

eventually, beomgyu had enough of having to leave his house to see you. so, the next time you met up, he popped the question. “will you move in with me?”

of course you said yes. the feeling of not wanting to be apart had always been mutual. you hated leaving him alone in his house. you always worried about him. you wanted to constantly check up on him and make sure he was okay.

you didn't know why you worried so much though. at this time, you didn't know about his past cutting habits. he kept that a secret from you in fear that you would find him disgusting or end up dating him just because you pitied him. you had yet to be intimate therefore his secret was kept pretty well. 

one time, you almost caught a glimpse of some of his scars. you came home early, unannounced. he wasn't expecting you for at least 2 more hours. but here you were. thank god you called out for him before entering the room. he hadn't been wearing a sweater over his tank top, leaving raised scars exposed. he threw on a hoodie just before you opened your shared bedroom door. he was sure you'd caught a glimpse of his wrist based on your widened eyes. but, to his relief, your eyes were widened because his fast movements had scared you. 

after that close call, he made sure to always be wearing enough clothes to hide the scars, even if you weren't home. he didn't know when or if he'd ever be ready to admit his shortcoming to you. he wanted to, but it just felt like your opinion of him would change.

now, 3 years after being together, he popped the real question. the one that he almost thought would turn you away. but, yet again, you proved him wrong.

“will you marry me, y/n?” 

with tears filling your eyes, gasps coming from your mouth, you agreed. “oh my god, of course i’ll marry you!” you pressed your lips to his and you swallowed all his sobs. you said yes to marrying him despite the flaws that he still has hidden. 

okay, fast forward to now.

you’ve finally confided in him that you want to have sex. you’ve been together for long enough that you feel it’s time. you’ve expressed your concern about why he hasn’t asked you to be intimate earlier.

so, here he is, panicking while waiting for you to get home from work. today is your agreed day to finally sleep together. he’s been counting the seconds ever since the clock hit 6:00pm. you’re due home any moment. 

beomgyu has gone through every possible reaction you could have to his skin. disgust, sadness, pity, anger, anything. he doesn’t know if he’s ready for any of your reactions. he doesn't know if he’s ready for any of today’s events.

his panic is interrupted by the jingling of your keys outside the front door. he debates running out the back door and hiding from you. but, it’s too late. you’re here and it’s time.

“hi, my beomie,” you say, your voice sweet and soft. he looks at you with a twinge of fear in his eyes. you place your bag down on the bench by the door and slide your shoes off. you walk over to him and sit next to him on the couch. you take one of his hands into both of yours.

“are you ready?” you ask. you lift his chin with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. his lip quivers and yet he nods his head. he wants this.

“i need to tell you- well show you something first,” he says. he gets up from the couch and pulls you to your shared bedroom. he ushers you to sit down on the foot of the bed. the look in your eyes tells a story of confusion and concern.

he takes a shallow breath before hooking his fingers on the hem of his shirt. “no, wait, gyu, you don’t have to strip yet,” you explain. he shakes his head. he needs to do this and now. before you decide you want to strip him yourself. 

he closes his eyes and lifts his shirt over his head and discards it on the floor. he shimmies out of his pants as well, adding them to the small pile of clothes. he keeps his eyes closed as he waits for a sound to come out of you. 

when nothing happens, he opens his eyes slowly. he makes eye contact with you and his heart immediately breaks. your eyes are watery, tears already staining your flush cheeks. he already regrets stripping.

“y/n, i-,” you wave him off. you wipe your face and get off the bed. you take his face into your hands and smile softly, wiping his tears with your thumbs. “you’re still beautiful, my love,” you press your lips to his a couple times. you look at him in the eyes as more tears fall.

“please, lay on our bed,” you move out of the way for him to get on. he settles, leaning against the headboard. you sit on his right side, on your knees. you take his right arm into your hand and run your fingers over his scars. 

you raise his wrist to your mouth and place a kiss on one of the scars. you scan his face for a reaction but you don’t think he’s registered it yet. so, you kiss another one. and another one. until you’ve trailed all the way up his arm.

you look up at him again and he’s fully blown sobbing. his other hand is covering his mouth as quiet sobs take him over. you continue your process despite his crying.

you lean down and kiss the scars that litter his right thigh. you use your right hand to massage his other thigh. you press kisses to every scar that covers his skin. reddish lipstick marks remain on his pinkish scars.

by the time you’re done with his right side, he’s bordering on inconsolable. he’s making you start crying again. “beomie… are you still sure you want to sleep with me? we can wait for another time,” he shakes his head.

“i want this,” he wipes his face and takes a deep breath. he grabs you by the back of the head and brings your face to his. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to straddle him. his hands rest on your clothed ass, massaging it. 

he tugs at your shirt before disconnecting from your lips for a moment to get it off fully. he traces your hip bones lightly as he kisses you deeper. you grind down on him subconsciously, earning you a soft moan against your mouth.

“my beautiful beomie,” you say as you pull away. you tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “can i ride you, my love?” you ask him so tenderly that it almost throws him off. he shakes his head yes. you smile softly and mumble ‘okay.’

you get off of him and pull your pants off. you tug your panties off to follow your pants. your only remaining clothing item is your bra. you crawl onto the bed and hook your fingers on the waistband on beomgyu’s boxers. he nods at you and lifts his hips. 

as soon as his boxers are off, he tries to hide himself with his hands. you remove them carefully and go back to straddling him. you reach down to align him with your entrance. you sink down slowly and beomgyu throws his head back.

“ffffuck momma,” he whines. you rest on him for a moment, getting used to his size. his legs shake slightly under you. he’s wanted this for so long and now that it’s happening, he’s full of every emotion in the book.

“i’m gonna move now, beomie,” you tell him. you lift yourself up and down slowly on his length so he gets used to the movements. he bites his lip, almost hard enough to break the skin. his eyes roll so far back into his head that he fears they might get stuck.

you bring his left wrist to your mouth and place kisses on it like you did with his other one. you tongue at the raised marks, the lipstick covering his arm. “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you finally ask. through shaky breaths, he tries to compose his thoughts. 

“i t-thought you’d leave me,” he confesses. “i thought y-you’d find me repulsive,” his voice is weepy and it breaks your heart. you kiss the tears that leave his eyes as you pick up the pace. his hands find your ass again, this time being able to knead the exposed skin.

"i would never," you say, a hint of shock painting your face. how could he think so lowly of you? why would you leave him for something that was entirely a result of him coping? he deserved to be comforted. 

"i love you, mommy," he says, his hands gripping your ass tighter as his high creeps up on him. he lifts his back off the headboard to kiss you softly. he plants kisses all over your face and neck. 

"i love you too, my beomie," you gasp and whine as he ignites the fire in your core. "please, cum for me, momma," he begs. you nod as he takes over your movements, snapping his hips up to meet yours. 

your eyes roll back and your high crashes into you. your hips stutter as beomgyu continues thrusting to meet his high. you whine from overstimulation as he snaps his hips one more time before spilling into you. 

you collapse onto him, nuzzling your nose into his neck. you peck his sweaty skin lightly before moving to get off. "no, not yet, wanna stay inside you," he pouts. you could never say no to him. you get comfortable cockwarming him. 

"you can stop dressing like it's winter all year round now," you giggle. he shrugs. he's not comfortable in his scars yet, but he's sure he'll get there. 

he loves you more than anything.

© lomlhwa 2023

[senoraackerman]

You & Geto dating HC’s

Back at it again (do I have a life? The answer is no)

WARNINGS: fluff and the tinniest bit of smut

This man is the sweetest person alive (pretending he didn’t massacre a whole village 🥰)

Loves watching soccer matches with your family (did y’all see Miami vs FC Dallas-)

We have establish he is a club America fan(shameless promo to my Geto meeting your parents HC)

Likes cooking for you

Those meals >>>

Let’s you braid his hair

Well he lets you do anything in general to him

You take full advantage of that (pause)

When you’re on your period this man does everything in his power to make the week easier on you

Food? Got you covered

Space? He’s gone

Cramps? Heating pad on full blast

Loves tagging along to carne asadas

Aunts are gossiping

The kids are sleeping on chairs

Someone is on Facebook live

They let geto take on the grill (so hot omg)

Loves playing video games with you (and gojo also joins the voice call)

You love when he stretches in the morning and his shirt rides up a bit to reveal his ripped abs and v line (I got pregnant from writing that)

Just like my baby girl nanami, he learns Spanish for you (back again with the shameless promo of my HC’s)

This man sleeps so soundly.

Like stays in place and doesn’t budge

Heavy ass sleeper (he just like me)

Wakes up to see you sleeping on top of him

Loves fucking you while you’re asleep (with permission of course)

I feel like he enjoys salty food

(I suddenly can’t name a dish as an example)

Every two weeks on Sunday you both clean your shared apartment with Spanish music (y’all KNOW what I mean)

Likes it when you take control of a situation (do what you will with that)

Loves, loves, LOVES watching you do your skin care routine

He eventually has one of his own

He enjoys watching novelas with you (mi corazón es tuyo >>>>>>>)

Uno matches between you guys were banned (he puts a 4+ card every damn time)

You both have a pair of matching doc martens (real)

Once again, he’s so sweet (a little too sweet to strangers 🧍🏻‍♀️)

Feeds some of the cats in the apartment complex

You start a listening session on Spotify with Geto

Like you’ll be sketching in your notebook in the living room and he’ll be in your bedroom playing on his PlayStation with one earbud in listening

You both have a playlist together with your favorite songs

Will get you little knick knacks

A small porcelain tea set. It’s placed on a shelf in the living room.

A funko pop of your favorite character sits on top of your drawers

Absolutely LOVES when you comb his hair with your fingers

He can fall asleep JUST FROM THAT

moans softly as you do😏

Wakes up unexpectedly around four in the morning to see that you’re still awake playing roblox on your phone

He just squints and turns back around to sleep

Good at karaoke (he told me himself)

Loves going on late drives to get food with you (another shameless promo to you and geto in the car)

——————-

A/N

It is in fact five in the morning and I’m about to go to sleep. This post will go up later today. Goodnight.

(It is now later in the day)

Y’all already KNOW my husband choso is coming up next

Also thank you for 61 followers! ❤️

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 14: Enjoy the Silence

Gif by @hunterschafer

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: The final heat...

Word Count: 7k

Rating: R

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Has it really been a year? I wish I had a better excuse than "I haven't been doing great." But that's what it is. I've had huge changes in my life. New job, new career, new goals, and a greater sense of self-worth. I'm feeling a lot better. But my new schedule is busy! Hopefully you can forgive me for such a long cliffhanger.

Finally, a heads up. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

I also did the absolute most and made a specific playlist just for this chapter here.

Forever thank you to everyone who commented, reblogged, shared, boosted, made content for, and supported me. It meant a lot and definitely kept this fic in the back of my mind. As always, most love to my girl @musings-of-a-rose who has tolerated me being a shitty friend for a whole ass year, and always talking things through with me in life and in this fic. Cheers.

Suggested Songs: Depeche Mode "Enjoy the Silence", Fitz and the Tantrums: "Out of My League", Lizzo "Truth Hurts", Michael Kiwanuka "Cold Little Heart", Cigarettes After Sex "Cry", Guster "Demons"

Frankie and you decided to break your apartment lease starting October 1st. Fall term started on the 30th of August, and you wanted time to settle into your schedule before planning a move. You spent almost all your time at his house anyway, only stopping back at your apartment for more clothes. Frankie had already given you a row of drawers to keep your things in.

You’d honestly never been happier, both on cloud 9 and it never faded, you were incredibly excited to begin this new start with Frankie and Gabi. It all seemed to have happened so fast. It had only been five months, you hadn’t even told your family about him yet, mostly to avoid comments on the age gap. 

You were relieved the hiccup in your relationship settled, you didn’t like feeling unsure or that someone resented you. When you started feeling secure again, you clung to it. That sparkle of joy was hard to keep in check.

You picked your Fall schedule out together and spent the remaining weeks of summer basking in your relationship, playing with Gabi, going out with the guys, and constant fucking. But your most favorite thing was still lying on the couch with Frankie, teasing each other and watching bad TV.

“This is simultaneously the best and worst movie I have ever seen in my life. I don’t understand how they achieved this.”

Frankie shrugs, reaching to your lap for the giant bowl of popcorn, his eyes still glazed to the TV where Mad Max: Fury Road is playing. “I dunno. Who cares? It’s cars and chaos!”

“And Tom Hardy. And Charlize Theron.”

He pinches you on the waist, acting threatened by your thirst just to tease you. “You ever been to a demo derby? This kind of reminds me of it.”

You sit up from where your back is resting against his chest. “Um, no? Isn’t that kind of…for rednecks?”

He laughs, his eyes crinkling. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but Benny and Will are rednecks. But no, it’s for anyone who likes cars crashing into each other. There’s actually one at the fair every year. We always go to it. You should come.”

“I’m not going to a demo derby.”

“Aw come on! It’ll be fun! First time for Gabi too, and there’s rides and games and funnel cake and fried oreos—” He pauses as you hold your hand up to silence him.

“I’ll go. You had me at ‘funnel cake.’”

The fair is packed. The final hurrah of the summer before kids return to school and university students dive back into their studies. The derby started at 8 PM sharp, you, Dali, and the boys got there plenty early to look around a bit, get some food, and find seats.

You forgo any typical entree and go right for the funnel cake, heaping fruit and extra powdered sugar on it until the plate is a big mound of sweet. The guys had talked you up on this for days, Benny wouldn’t shut up about it, and you found yourself excited to watch. Your legs bounce impatiently as you scarf down your cake, breaking off pieces here and there to feed to Gabi and your boys.

The seats were bleachers, hard metal planks that hurt your butt and back and caught vibration from every footfall, but Pope sat behind you so you could lean back against his legs to be more comfortable. 

It’s a long wait. The bleachers eventually fill up, you certainly had the best seat in the house (thank you Will), and you could see the hoods up of participating cars behind the commentator podium. The air is musty, the odor of wet dirt from a quick August shower earlier that day.

When the first round of vehicles start revving their engines, Frankie pulls some earphones for Gabi and secures it to her head. Once he’s sure she’s comfortable, he quickly runs you through the basic rules. “So there’s several ‘heats’, and which heat you’re in is based on how many cylinders the car has. Last car moving is the winner, but you can’t just avoid the other cars the whole time. No continuing if your car starts sparking from the engine, no hitting the driver side door, and no hitting anyone who’s already out.” 

“Wait, cars catch on fire in this?”

Before Frankie can answer, the announcer calls out the first heat and you almost choke at the state of the cars coming out. They were completely dilapidated, windows punched out and hood frames reinforced with extra steel. It looked like each entry had about 5 different parts all from different cars, horrendous paint jobs, and one of them even had a stuffed dinosaur duct taped to the hood. Some of them looked like they had already been hit by cars, parts hanging off and bumpers pressing in on itself. None of these cars would last at all. There’s no way...

The rink was surrounded by giant cement cinder blocks creating a large “rink” type area. The contestants lined the front bumpers of their vehicles up parallel to each other at the barricades separating the cars from the bleachers, alternately revving their engines during the countdown.

“Okay, so, usually we all pick the car we think is going to win.” Benny says. You lean forward to look over the assortment of jacked up cars for this heat, eventually settling on an old Toyota Corolla painted a matte black. Benny chooses the dino car, Will chooses a Dodge Stealth with it’s headlights hanging outside the socket, Dali and Pope argue over a Ford Taurus whose back end was already smashed into the back seats, and Frankie chooses a Chevy Impala, which you immediately regret not taking because it has such a long front and back end. Lots of room for smashing and being able to keep going.

Gabi jumps up and down on Frankie’s lap as he points out things to her over the sounds of engines and a countdown, and then the cars are off off, engines roaring and dirt kicking up as they all reverse at full speed, several of them crunching up in the middle while others circle around the perimeters.

It soon becomes clear to you that there is no rhyme or reason to which car makes it and which doesn’t. Pope’s Taurus didn’t even start and is eliminated after 2 minutes of no movement, and whoever is driving the boxy piece of shit Honda Accord that Dali had to select is a fucking maniac, winding and weaving at full speed backwards, hitting whoever gets in their way. Her choice is the winner of that heat. 

Most of them are driving backwards, and Will tells you it’s because they are trying to protect the engine. You deflate in your seat a little in disappointment, but he assures you that as the heat winds down and there's fewer cars taking up the space, the drivers and announcer will get impatient and they will hit each other head to head.

You’re shocked at how much you enjoy it. At one point a car hits the passenger side door of another so hard that it is pushed up and onto the barricade wall from the inertia, hanging from an angle as the crowd jeers and shrieks in excitement. One car flips over completely, another’s engine bursts into flames and the crowd all starts crying out caution because the announcer can’t see it. You’ve never seen anything like it before and there was so much fire you were sure the whole thing would blow up, but the driver slid out the glassless driver’s side window like it was no big deal and walked it off.

There is something satisfying about two cars hitting each other at full speed, the bodies of them crunching, wheels hanging off axles, bumpers being dragged behind and run over by other drivers, cars with mangled pieces becoming stuck to each other so they can’t separate until another car hits them, tires completely gone and cars only moving on its hubs. It’s chaos in a safe format, a way to experience destruction and violence in a way that feels good and unharmful. 

Gabi has never been so amazed in her entire life, her mouth hangs open and she wriggles against her dad to see everything, laughing every time a collision happens. The audience oohs and ahhs and boos and screams and cheers and teases, you and your friends join the clamor as you have your own mini competition with yourselves.  

Giant fork tractors come into the arena area to lift the cars that can’t move anymore, some guys are able to get theirs back up and running, driving them to the sides to shape up for the final Battle Royale.

The final heat is fucking wild. All the cars that were already battered enough before they even began to come back out, returned to do another round for the final winner. With all the action you’d barely even noticed that contestants whose cars were still driveable had spent the remaining heats beyond the barricades hammering and reforming their vehicles enough to compete again. 

And at the end, the winner of all faces the crowd, pulls off their helmet to reveal a thick curly mass of long hair.  The winner is a woman. You and Dali cheer until your throats hurt.

It’s over too soon. There’s a mass exodus the instant the derby is over, the packed stadium standing and pouring down the stairs pressing so tight that you and your boys decide to hang back until it thins out. You lead the way, Frankie’s large and warm hand grazing your waist as you slowly move down the stairs and back out into the fair, turning to wait for the rest of your friends to make it out.

“What next?” Benny says when you are all reunited. “More food? Games? Rides?”

“I’m not eating more before getting on rides, let's do those now.” Says Frankie, grumbling as he hears you tease him with Benny. He whips his head around to glare at you. “Just you wait until you get older and start getting sick on rides, I cannot wait to make fun of you back.”

The wait for the ride tickets is long, but it leaves plenty of time for the group to decide how many are needed. Who is riding what, who isn’t, what pairings and who will watch Gabi on the rides she can’t do. You’re surprised when Will and Pope back out of the Zipper, leaving you and Benny as a pairing for that.

Riding it was a mistake. The ride is basically a giant airborne conveyer belt with completely enclosed containers for people hanging off it that were 360 degree capable. And it lasted FOREVER. You lose some of your funnel cake behind the ride out of sight, threatening violence on Benny if he outs you to the others. 

But it didn’t stop you from riding The Freak Out immediately afterwards, a rotating pendulum swing that made you feel like you were going to be catapulted out of your seat. The ride seated 4 groups of 4 so that in between squeezing your eyes shut, you could catch watery glimpses of Benny red-faced and cackling hysterically, Will’s chants of “ohfuckohfuckohfuckOHfuckOHFUCKOHSHIT FUCCCCCCK!”, and Frankie looking…absolutely fine. It was almost disturbing really, he was calm and collected, the only hint that this might have been something other than a nice drive in his truck was his giant smile, the tears leaking from his squinted eyes, his chocolate curls whipping around in the breeze as his hands clutch his hat in his lap with a steel grip.

“How the fuck were you so calm?!” You gasp as you stumble off the rickety landing platform. You hadn’t moved yet you felt like you had run a mile, your heart was beating so fast from the adrenaline it almost felt like you might have a heart attack. 

Frankie shrugs. “Feels like a copter in a bad air current.” 

You simply stare blinking. 

“No, he’s always like this. Like this one time, we were flying in a helo over the Andes mountains, and—”

A sharp stare from Frankie that he tries to hide from you makes Benny backpedal. 

“Uhhh yea we were flying over some mountains and the air current was wild but we got over the mountains just fine and everything was fine and we were fine.”

Your heart seizes in your chest, that same feeling of not being told something creeping up. You hate it. You push it back down, swallowing heavily to center yourself. “So I assume you were fine.”

“Yea. Yea. Cat is a good pilot.” 

You hum, the panic still not leaving your chest.

Frankie grabs your hand as you walk. “It happened a lot, I just got used to it.”

“It happened a lot?”

“Yea. I mean, sometimes we were flying through shit climates, sometimes even pursued. Doesn’t make for a smooth ride. I’m just used to it. They always scream bloody murder though.” Frankie smiles softly.

“Oh.”

You go silent, continuing to walk to the next destination: the scrambler. You had already established you would not ride and Dali wanted some funnel cake herself, so she heads off while you stay off to the side with Gabi to watch, lost in your own thoughts.

“Just don’t fucking talk about that, none of that. That never happened.” Frankie seethes to Benny as they are strapped into the ride. 

“Sorry dude, I can’t read your thoughts. I figured she knew.”

“No. I don’t want her to know. No one else needs to know about it.”

Benny falls silent, looking to Will beside him. Pope lowers his head, choosing to say nothing.

“Catfish…you have to.” Says Will.

“No the fuck I don’t. I never want her to know. If she knows…she’ll actually see ‘real me’. ‘Fuck-up me.” And I don't want her to yet. I don’t want to lose her yet. I don’t want her to be afraid. Stop fucking looking at me like that.”

They stop. But only because the ride starts, and they can’t see anything other than blurs.

You hate this feeling, this fluttering in your stomach like something is wrong but your heart knows, it knows it’s fine. It has to be. Your mind is spinning, trying to combat the rising anxiety clenching in your chest, doing gymnastics to find reasons to not be alarmed.

He’s not lying about something. He’s not. …He promised….I’m just overthinking this…

You can’t. You refuse to even think about it. Confronting the terrible possibility that you might’ve done it again, you might have thrown yourself all in to someone only to—-no. 

He’s not lying. He’s not. …He promised….he’s different. I’m just overthinking this…

You can feel butterflies bubbling in your stomach and you feel like you might throw up. Fucking men. You huff in frustration and try to distract yourself with your surroundings, watching people on rides, sharing funnel cake. Your eyes scan over two men staring at you silently by a skewered chicken cart and in your current mood it makes you furious. “What the fuck are you staring at?!” You growl at them. They say nothing and slowly walk away, disappearing into the crowd. Fucking. Men.

You try not to let your emotions show. You sit back while Gabi goes on some rides for her age, using the time to rehydrate and calm yourself down. Living through Gabi’s joy helps.. She’s having a blast, choosing a different person to pair with for each time ride. Pope in the Wacky House, the Helicopters with her dad, Benny on the mini Viking ship. Once you feel better you join in to play bumper cars (Will and Gabi win) and ride the high-rise swings with her seated in the cool metal chair next to you, Benny singing along to the ambient speakers playing “Out of My League” so loud eventually all the other teens on the ride join in.You enjoy the mini coaster more than you thought you would considering it’s for kids Gabi’s age, you and Dali are the only others who can fit in the seats, no matter how hard Benny tried. It was easy to quickly forget.

After the coaster, Gabi begins to slow down, so you hit the fried oreo stand, paying for several batches despite protestation and alternately feeding everyone as the group slowly walks through the agricultural parts of the fair. It’s calmer here, the air warm and quiet. The pathway is less crowded so Gabi is able to frolic around on the walkway in front of you safely. 

You walk through every barn, stopping to pet every animal. She’s a natural with them. Completely fearless, not one flicker of apprehension as she approaches cows and horses that are easily 6 times her height, paying close attention to her dad in how to not spook them. Everyone finds the goats to be the favorite because of the sounds they make. Even more so when Frankie engages in a screaming contest back and forth with a bunch of them until someone shoos them out of the pavilion.

Soon, all the sugar Gabi consumed rears its ugly head in the rabbit barn, she throws a fit when Frankie won’t let her get a pet rabbit and you only just catch her upper arm in time to keep her from collapsing on the filthy barn floor. You’re surprised she held out so long. Even you were crashing and getting tired. Also, the rabbits were ridiculously cute.

“Listen Gabi, how about we ride the ferris wheel? Would you like that?” You kneel before her, swiping the tears off her cheeks as she catches her breath. “It goes really high! Higher than the swings!” She nods, sniffing in a snot bubble as she takes your hand. The two of you lead the way, and as you get closer and closer, you start to regret your decision. 

It’s much taller than the Freak Out. By more than 100 feet. It doesn’t look very stable either.

“Wait...this…this looks kind of high, don’t you think?” You turn to the guys, trying to conceal the wavering in your voice. You were scared enough at 70 feet. This was more like 200.

“Height requirement says she’s fine. And it’s enclosed, goes really slow. Come on.” Frankie takes you by the hand and your heart leaps into your throat, your feet skidding across the lawn as you try to pull back. 

A light shove pushes you forward and you turn to glare at Will as he smirks down at you. “If you don’t go I’m never going to let you hear the end of it. Not after you called us “old and broken down.”

Well shit.

“Fine.”

You’re shaking when it’s your turn, the group mad dashing to three cars next to each other so you could talk throughout. Benny pairs with Pope, Gabi is vibrating with excitement as she’s put into a carriage by Will and Dali, and Frankie is beaming as he motions you towards the left car. He pats your butt as you gingerly step in, waiting until you’re seated before joining you and taking your hand. 

“Babe…are you okay?”

You swallow, grateful it’s dark enough he can’t see you trembling. “Yep. I’m good.” 

He leans forward in his seat, the glowing phosphorescence of the lights of the ride and around the fair bathing him halfway in a multicolored glow. tThe colors and shadows fold into the angles of his face like rainbow chiaroscuro, an angular stained glass window. He takes your hand again, yours is swallowed in his palm and you close your eyes as he rubs his thumb across the top. The dark beat of Depeche Mode pounds against your chest and echoes in your ears and you briefly imagine this is what it must feel like to drop acid.

“Your hands are really sweaty…and you’re breathing really fast. Are you sure you’re okay? Hey…” He squeezes your palm and you open your eyes to meet his. “It’s okay if you’re scared. I won’t joke anymore about it, I’m sorry.”

You swallow. “It’s just really really high.”

Frankie watches the ride operator out of the corner of his eye passing their car as he makes sure everyone is safely locked in before tugging on your arm slightly. You slide forward minutely, he meets you more than halfway with his large limbs and rests his hands on your hips. You gasp as the ride jolts and begins rolling, lifting the cabs up in the air. His calloused fingertip pushes your head back up.

“How about I distract you.” He murmurs, shifting forward one inch more, tilting his neck as his soft pouty lips meet yours. 

You close your eyes, trying to lose your self awareness into him and his mouth and the soft skin of his nose that bumps your cheek and tickles your nose with its little breaths. 

The lift mechanism suddenly shudders, clunking over something and it feels like when you run over a squirrel in your car. You inhale sharply against Frankie’s lips as your cab jostles back and forth. Not much, but enough for you to slam yourself back against your seat and clutch the seat bottom as hard as you can. Your heart beats wildly and you imagine the ride breaking and dropping you on the ground to be crushed to death by this stupid fucking metal cab.

You feel pressure on your knees and look down, focusing hard to not see double from fear. Frankie cups both in his hands, thumbs lightly stroking the inside of your thighs. “It’s okay.” He reassures, squeezing your knees once more. “Probably an under-greased cog, it’s nothing. They test these things like 50 times a day.”

You simply stare, forcing yourself to nod. 

“Close your eyes.”

You open your mouth to argue then close it and obey. You trust Frankie, and it can’t be any worse. 

“Just focus on me. And…you hear the music? It’s called “Enjoy the Silence.” I was obsessed with this song when it came out. And can you hear Benny below us? I can hear Gabi laughing too. We’re all okay, you’re okay too.”

You bite your lips into your mouth, focusing on the song and Frankie’s husky voice. The meditative synth pop calms you, and the carefree voices of your friends below does help calm you, but you can’t slow down your heartbeat. 

“I’m okay. Just too much adrenaline.”

The hands on your knees slide up your bare thighs and wrap around the bottoms of them. Frankie pulls you forward in your seat with a smirk. “I’m feeling a little amped up too.”

“Frankie.”

He doesn’t respond, his sole focus on your thighs as his hands slide up and up and up until he is just able to slip the tip of one of his fingers under one leg of your shorts. For some reason, it pisses you off.

“Frankie!” You hiss. “People could see us.”

“Nah…” He shushes you, his finger sliding lower. 

You clamp your legs shut and push his hand back in his direction. “Frankie, I don’t want to right here.” 

He sits up. “Oh.”

Suddenly you hear Benny’s voice from below. “Hello we are underneath you guys! I don’t want to hear any hooking up sounds!” He trolls, and you fully push Frankie back to his side, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

It’s the first time you can remember that it’s ever been uncomfortably awkward between the two of you, and you’re not sure why. The silence seems so much more noticeable and weird against the clanking of the Ferris wheel gears and the chattering of random other people.

You’re not even looking at each other, you realize. When did that happen? Your neck cranes to the left as you gaze at the stars, and when you turn back towards Frankie, he is looking to the right and down at the fair. 

“…Is everything okay?”

His eyes snap back to yours. “Yea? Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Cause I pushed you away, and…I dunno, you’re being weird..”

“Oh, I’m sorry, that’s not intentional. I’m not upset, c’mere.” He opens his arms wide to you, scooting on his bench so there’s enough room for you.

You hesitate. “Won’t it…won’t it throw off the balance?”

You feel ridiculous asking but he doesn’t laugh at you, just shakes his head slightly. “Nah, they wouldn’t be able to run this ride if people couldn’t sit on the same side.”

You balance awkwardly on the edge of your bench overanalyzing what exact moment during the track of the ride to launch onto his, but you overthink it and end up jostling the cab more than necessary. Frankie’s arms pull you into his side and you burrow your face in his neck as the cab continues to rock. The music fades from Depeche Mode to Lizzo to Lil’ Nas X (Will clearly enjoys that one) and then back to Lizzo, and you forget all about your uneasiness.

He was right. It did feel better being with him. 

The ride does one more pass then rolls to a halt, letting off you with Frankie and Benny with Santiago. You hover at the exit for Will and Gabi, who have to wait for their cab to reach the platform before dismounting. Frankie takes your hand as you wait.

Gabby’s adrenaline rush runs out fast, and you spend the remainder of the fair eating more fried Oreos and playing games. Somehow you manage to beat them all at the water shooting game, which amps up the competitiveness to the point you’d rather just watch.

Which is how you end up at the “star” game. 

“We’re so fucking good at this game, it pisses them off every time.” Laughs Benny, as he shoots the entire Star out perfectly with the gun that is specifically not given enough ammo to achieve this. You hop up on the far side of the counter to watch, noting the way each of you boys handles their weapon and the differences in each. Benny held his gun loosely, like he was relaxed and self assured. It almost seemed like you would be able to slap it out of his hands but you knew he still had an iron grip. Will was precise and, as you expected, “perfect form”. You could tell just from Pope’s posture change that he was the best shot on the team, you’d never seen him look so focused. Frankie held his with a tense white knuckle grip, the folding stock tucked against his shoulder joint. The tension carrying up his arms as his veins popped out in his forearms and biceps. He looked fucking good. And you wouldn’t consider yourself a “gun person.” In fact, you kind of hated them. But there just was something about a strong non-douchey man holding a rifle like that that activated you. Damn the patriarchy. Even Dali is a great shot, though not as good as the guys.

After a few rounds, the carnie finally stopped allowing your posse to keep playing, frustrated that somehow the rigging system didn’t work on your group. You lean back on your hands, your legs swinging against the wood counter, observing Benny arguing with the carnie with a smirk. Gabi is passed out in her stroller next to you as Frankie sidles up to you, feeding you a piece of Fried Reeses, then promptly kissing you so the taste floats between you. 

He hums deeply, stepping closer to you til he’s between your legs. His hands rest low on the top of your thighs. “This ok?”

You smile. “Yes. More than okay. And I want more.” 

Frankie beams and cups your face, his lips crashing into yours as he all but breathes you in. You tilt your head and poke his mouth with your tongue. He responds immediately and opens for you, meeting you halfway. You whine softly as his hands leave your cheeks and trail down your back, one hand sneaking a bit lower to discreetly cup your ass. You’ve just wound your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck when you hear a shrill voice cut through the din of the dwindling crowd.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your heart slams to a halt so fast it hurts. You recognize that voice. And so does Frankie. Your heads both snap to the left as a disheveled looking Lex stands there with a bunch of her friends.

Frankie simply stares. She repeats herself. “Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. The BABYSITTER? Are you fucking your BABYSITTER??? Oh Frankie…come on…how pathetic can you be? She’s like a child!”

You look at Frankie, receding into himself like a silent, terrified puppy. You’ve never seen him like this before, it unnerves you.

“Excuse me.” You snap back. “I am 28.”

She scoffs. I fucking knew something was going on with you two. And you’re doing this in front of my child?”

“Well, actually, Gabi is sleeping. At least she was, until you came ranting and raving.” You make eye contact with Pope, who reads your perfectly and starts steering Gabi’s stroller away so she can’t hear. “We made sure to be careful for her but why do you even care if we are fucking? You left him! You didn’t want him anymore, so it shouldn’t fucking matter who he dates.” 

“He’s a drug addict and a pathological liar. He will NEVER change.”

“Yea? And you are a drunk, controlling, OCD bitch who can’t mind her own fucking business. He’s happy with me. I trust him. Unlike you. Bye.” You couldn’t help yourself, you just fucking hated her.

But that set her off. “Did he tell you why he was suspended?”

“Yes, he—“

“Did he tell you he was high, flying a family and he almost injured everyone from a sloppy landing? Did he tell you how he would take Gabi to his drug dealers house with him? How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper? That I deliberately asked him not to because we had a new baby? That he crashed their helicopter, dropped all their money and shot innocent villagers to keep them from getting it? At children and old men adn women? That because of that, Molly’s husband was shot in the fucking head by one of those people? And then they couldn’t even bring the money back so it was all for no reason?”

She’s shouting now, spittle flying from her inebriated lips. One of her friends tries to grab her arm but she shakes them off. People in the crowd are starting to stop and watch. “Then, THEN, he treated me like shit, saying horrible things to me just when he was mad, throwing things, scaring me!”

You feel like you can’t breathe, it’s too much information all at once. “...What? I don’t…No. no, he said he was on a delta mission–”

“Oh sweetheart,” She sneers condescendingly. “He was on a greed mission. He was retired from delta. This was like a year ago. They all wanted to get rich and robbed a fucking drug kingpin and Frankie shot innocent people to make sure he got alllllll that money. And because of that, his friend was shot and killed and his family has NO idea why. He lied to you.”

You turn to look at him, and all his friends. Everyone is silent, trying not to look up from the ground. Dali looks as bewildered as you. “Frankie…?” Tears water in your eyes and you feel like your heart is going to burst. You thought he told you it was an enlisted mission, but on top of everything else you just learned your thoughts are rushing so fast you can’t seem to remember specifics. 

Frankie can’t even look at you. And that’s how you know. 

It’s true…

“Lex. Stop.” Will’s Southern drawl cuts through the silence, the commanding officer in him coming out. “It’s over. This shit between you two has to stop. Enough.” His eyes shift to Lex’s friends, who are nodding and repeating the same thing. Lex finally allows them to pull her away muttering under her breath, sending one last glare in your direction.

The walk to the truck is silent. The ride home is a foggy blur. But the minute you step into the house, you crack. 

“Frankie please tell me all this is not true.” You can’t read him at all, his face is completely blank as he moves around you towards Gabi’s bedroom to tuck her in.

So you wait.

His hackles are already up when he comes back out.

“Frankie–”

“Yea.”

“Well?”

“Yea. It’s true. We tried to steal money from one of Pope’s cases and it backfired and Tom got shot.”

“Because of you.”

His expression changes then, from blank nothing to vicious defensive anger. “Yea. Because of me. I fucked up the flight back and we crash landed and these fuckin’ villagers were gonna take the money! And it was an accident!”

“You ‘accidentally’ shot innocent people?”

He swallows, his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see he’s doing mental gymnastics in order to avoid accountability. 

“Did your finger slip?”

No answer. 

“Frankie. Did your finger slip on the trigger?”

You already know the answer before he says it. And somehow it’s like he morphs into a Disney villain as he says it. “No. My finger didn’t slip.”

It burns, the sharp pain in your heart that makes you feel like it’s having a seizure or forgot how to pump blood or is pumping too much blood. “How many people did you kill.”

He shrugs. “I dunno.”

“You don’t know? How can you not know?! Frankie, you told me this was your job! You- you fucking lied to me! I-I I asked you if you were hiding anything else from me and you fucking lied to me!” You can’t help your voice raising, the tears spilling out of your eyes as you realize how fucking stupid you had been. Somewhere in the background you can hear Gabi has woken and is hysterically crying. Frankie, clearly having enough, turns back towards her room. But you continue, screaming at his back. “And that’s why Tom is dead? And his family doesn’t know why?!”

Frankie doesn’t answer and suddenly you are enraged. You run behind him and shove him forward. “I’m fucking talking to you! How can you just be so fucking blase about this??? And…all that other shit???—I feel like I don’t know you at all!”

He whirls around, that furious murderous face you ‘ve seen him give others is finally directed at you. “Because you don’t!” He screams back, his teeth nash and he shoves a finger one inch from  your face. You flinch.

“Frankie, you’re scaring me.”

“I’m scaring you? Really? I thought this was your thing?” 

You blink, confused, tears stalling on your face. “Don’t–”  You plead softly.

“No, Lex is right. You’re a naive little girl who thinks she can save worthless idiots like me and live some fucking fantasy happily ever after. You won’t. You can’t. I’m unfixable.”

“How can you say that!! Frankie, I love you!

He scoffs. “I know you think you do. And I know you aren’t stupid, you told me you’ve done this before. But guess what sweetie, you aren’t better, you’re still doing it because you’re so fucking desperate for someone to love you. You don’t love me. You just want to feel like some fucking savior.”

“No! No… I didn’t, I don’t…you told me you loved me!”

“I wanted to fuck you.” His eyes are black as far, it’s like you don’t even recognize his face anymore. Lex was right. Lex was right. How…did you make all of it up in your head?

“You…You’re a fucking psycho…I feel like you emotionally manipulated me into caring for you only for you to play games with me! I specifically told you I couldn’t go through this again and you fucking did it anyway!”

“Hey, you kissed me. And you were fun to fuck, I will admit that. Let me do fucking anything. But we both knew this would happen. You set yourself up. I did shoot those villagers. I caused Tom’s death. I just wanted the fucking money. And I wanted to kill a bunch of kids too, when they got in my way. Fuckin’ teenagers and I told Pope to fucking shoot them all.  And you know what else? We went back and got all that fucking money we hid, and we are fucking swimming in it. And I didn’t share a goddamn dime with my ex. You’re right. I am a psycho, so it’s a good thing this is over. Pack your shit and leave me alone.”

“Fuck you Frankie.”

You don’t wait another moment. You don’t need to be asked twice this time. You shove him aside on your way down the hallway, doing everything you can not to let the second round of tears fall. He’d seen enough.

You slam the door of the master bedroom behind you, frantically bouncing around different points in the room to grab all your shit. When did all of this stuff even get here? Anxiety bubbles up your chest until you can’t take it anymore and say fuck it, he can just throw anything else out. I have to get out of here.

You rush back down the hallway like a speed demon, praying to whatever that he won’t be standing in the hallway still. He isn’t. He’s sitting on his couch facing away from you, his head in his hands. You hate yourself for wanting to go comfort him. He’s right…I’m

not better…

You pause on the front doorway, struggling to say what needs to be said. Don’t be weak. Don’t keep letting people do this to you over and over. “Don’t contact me.I never want to see you again.” You say to his back.

He doesn’t move a muscle, or even look at you. “You won’t.”

You were able to make it halfway across the lawn before the grief fully hit. By the time you got to your car you were gasping like you were no longer able to breathe. And the minute your car door shut you broke, a wailing sob bursting from your lips as you bury your face in your palms. 

Again. It happened again. And it’s just as crushing as every other time, except now it feels like you never healed from the others and now they are all piling on top of the other with this one as the final blow.

Why. WHY? Was there something wrong with you? Why were you never enough? Why couldn’t you make them stay? What did you do to keep having to go through this? It almost killed you last time, your eyes squeeze shut as you remember the look on your parents face as they watched you writhe on your bed screaming and crying hysterically from your latest breakup.

And why did you let yourself fall into it again, like you had never learned a goddamn thing. It was like you were masochistic, you told yourself you would never need someone again so badly, you wouldn’t enmesh yourself so fully that when it fell apart you could barely function. Your heart was once again ripped out of your chest and thrown to the floor, the cracks from before making this shattering into pieces so small you know it can’t get repaired again.

With a trembling whimper, you pull your face out of your hands and wipe your eyes, your nose. You realize you’re still sitting in Frankie’s driveway and you immediately look to see if he's at the window, concerned for you. He isn’t. You hate yourself for it but it breaks you even more. 

It’s over.

You drive home mindlessly, your Spotify on shuffle and you aren’t aware of anything else. Just get home. Just get home and then you can cry, try to move on. But you already know you won’t. 

You finally tire yourself out of tears, and you try to talk yourself up, turning up the music and chanting “it’s okay” to yourself. 

It’s Coldplay. You always liked Coldplay. 

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try, you'll never know

Just what you're worth

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you…

Tears stream down your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face, and I–

You slam the on/off button so hard you actually cause the auxiliary cord to malfunction, so you rip it out of your phone and throw the damn thing on the passenger seat. You drive home in silence.

It’s dark in the lot when you arrive. You park in a spot along the side and towards the back because the lot is mostly full. The only light shining is the pole yards away, the bulb switches off and on opposite of the dark one right above you. 

You feel numb. You can still feel sticky dried tears on your face, but your ability to utter a sound is gone. You close your eyes and try to compose yourself, simply sitting in your car in the dark. You’re avoiding going upstairs, you know. You’ve pretty much been living at Frankie’s. Walking through that door would make it feel too ‘official’. You cover your face with your hands and rub the tears tracks off your raw face, and are about to take a breath and gather your shit when a THWACKING sound bursts right in your left ear.

You startle with a yelp and look out your window, prepared to tell off whoever is messing with you, but freeze when you find yourself face to face with the barrel of a gun, the only thing separating you from it is the shitty window glass on your cheap car.

»»———————►

Post A/N: Don't yell at me lol

[forays-into-fiction]

When It Rains, It Pours

This is a follow up/part 2 to Why Don’t You Put on a Show as a couple people have requested (@maystecc and @edsforehead​). I hope you enjoy. This one definitely got away from me, it is way longer than I intended and a whole lot filthier too 😅

Minors DNI 

Contains: Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, Honorifics/ Petnames (Sir, Babe, Baby, Sweetheart, Princess), Not So Dry Humping, This One is A Lot Heavier on Oral Fixation, Finger Sucking, Oral (Male and Female Recieving), Cum Swallowing/Eating. Dom!Eddie/Sub!Reader, Degradation/Name-calling (Slut, Cockslut, Whore), Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex, Slight Domesticity 

Eddie had told you not to read the article, it wasn’t like he had himself, but curiosity gets the better of you one day. While he’s out you sneak into the bedroom, feeling like an intruder in your own home. You know where he’s been keeping the magazine, you know he uses it sometimes when you’re not around. 

It still surprises you how much these photos turn him on, sometimes more it seems than some of the photos you’ve taken of yourself. You suppose it’s the added thrill of everyone else in the world also ogling your scantily clad frame, that does something for you too that you still can’t explain. 

He taunts you with it sometimes, about how you’re ‘such a whore… want all the guys looking at you’ as he thrusts into you with abandon more forceful with each stroke. You love how he can go from degrading to tender in a heartbeat, it sets you aflame like no one else has.

Flipping through the pages you note some sticky stains on the photos of you, hastily wiped away, though the pages still have some resistance when pulled apart. You shake your head, of course he would, you still feel a heat rising in your cheeks though. You get to the article, taking a steadying breath, closing your eyes briefly before opening them and perusing the words.

Meeting with Eddie Munson and y/n y/l/n has been an experience to say the least. We begin the interview with Munson as y/l/n is escorted away for her photoshoot, he offers up information on the band, Corroded Coffin, and their sudden rise to fame explaining how “… it’s something I never could have expected. I mean sure it’s what everyone wants when they’re in a band, right… but the response has just been mind blowing.” 

When asked about all the female attention he’s been getting he becomes dismissive, saying that “None of that really means anything… they’re only interested because I’m the new guy on the scene… it’s bound to blow over and I’ve got the perfect girl waiting for me at home…” 

He reveals that he’s been working on new material for the band, so everyone keep an eye out for the next Corroded Coffin album. He can’t say when it’ll be hitting the shelves, but assured me it will be soon. 

When y/l/n returns the two behave like a pair of lovesick puppies, high school sweethearts who can barely keep their hands off one another. Always kissing or touching in some way, but how long will that last before the strain of celebrity status brings them crashing back down to Earth. Munson is adamant that nothing could ever change and that he’s never been tempted by any of his fangirls, saying “… I love my fans, but that is never happening.” 

In relation to her celebrity status y/l/n may be quoted, “It has been a wild ride. I don’t really know why anyone is interested in me […] I’m just […] his little groupie” It is interesting to note that she thinks so little of herself, having to be reassured by her boyfriend that “[…] she is so much more than that.” 

The pair first met back in Hawkins High, the super senior Munson needing help with his studies. Y/l/n recalls a tender moment of admiration, “He was sat on his bed strumming on his guitar along to a song […] He’d said it was some new song by Metallica he was trying to learn I just couldn’t look away, I remember thinking ‘how could someone be this pretty’”

Munson begins teasing at this and the pair share a childish moment, ribbing one another. 

As to how their relationship affects the band Munson has nothing but good things to say, insisting that she is his inspiration. While y/l/n clams she “[…] just wants whatever’s best for them, whatever that entails.” and admiring their hard work. 

It is here however that the pair turn sour, inexplicably. Storming off in a rage, inconsolable. This does not bode well, perhaps indicating early signs of cracks in the relationship. At the very least it’s a sore subject, we wouldn’t want a repeat of the Lennon/Ono drama. 

With the interview coming to an abrupt end, we are left with many unanswered questions on just who Eddie Munson’s mystery girl truly is, but some light has been shed on her today. In this inescapable whirlwind of fame more details are likely to come to light soon enough. In the meantime, sorry fans your heartthrob guitarist seems to be well and truly smitten with his girlfriend. Fingers crossed they can stand the test of time.

He was right they did twist your words and make jabs at you and your relationship, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it felt in the moment. People can read into that however they wish, you think to yourself, deciding you’re not going to let it get to you any further than it has.

 “Hey babe, I’m home.” You hear Eddie’s voice calling out to you, closer than you would have expected.

You scramble to shove the magazine back in the drawer before he enters the room.

He walks through the doorway, tossing his jacket over the end of the bedframe. He spots you kneeling on the floor by his bedside table, you look up at him guiltily.

“Uh, babe what are you doing down there?” He grins at you in amusement before realising, “Oh, babe no you didn’t read it, did you?”

You nod biting your lip anxiously, “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. It’s ok… I mean it’s not like I love what he wrote about us but I can deal with it.”

“You sure?” He asks, concern lacing his voice.

“Yeah, I’m ok. I think it was just a lot worse in person because that made it more real, more personal. This… this is just words on a page. Who cares?” You assure him with a shrug.

He extends his hand to you, “Come on, up you get… unless…” he raises his brows suggestively smirking.

You look up at him curiously, “Unless what?”

“Unless while your down there-”

You cut him off chuckling and grabbing his hand, pulling yourself up, “God, you really are insatiable, aren’t you?”

“What can I say sweetheart…” he shrugs, “… sometimes I’ve just got a one-track mind, especially when it comes to you.”

“Such a pervert more like,” you tease playfully, “come on we should get started on dinner.”

“Oh, you wound me.” He sighs dramatically, clutching at his chest. “Am I not more than just some lowly pervert, do I not deserve your love and affection.”

You scoff at him, “Ok mister ‘love and affection’ I’ll suck your dick later.” You press a gentle kiss to his cheek, sealing your promise.

“I fucking love you.” He breathes out pulling you back in for a heated, more passionate kiss, capturing your lips between his own.

You break apart, “I love you too, now come on, my darling Sou chef we have work to do before you can get your dick wet.” You lick your lips teasingly, eyeing him up and down.

He groans, “Don’t know how I’m gonna make it through dinner when you look at me like that.”

You giggle, leading him out of the bedroom, hand clasped in your own.

You have him chopping vegetables as you prepare a pot on the stove, working back-to-back, “Those potatoes done, babe?” You call over your shoulder.

“Yep, just one second…” he scoops the chopped and peeled potatoes into a bowl, spinning around to hand them to you. As you drop them into the pot of water, he presses up against you, ducking his head to the slope of your neck kissing you softly. You lean into him for a moment before remembering the task at hand and tutting at him, “Hey, come on after dinner, ok? Get back to work.” You try to sound stern but you can’t help the grin that’s breaking out across your face, you’re just as eager to get on your knees for him. Been thinking about it since the moment he suggested it, practically dripping with need.

He smirks against your skin, “Mhmm… whatever you say babe.”

He breaks away reluctantly and you let out an involuntary whine at the loss of contact. He chuckles at you before commenting smugly, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

But, dutifully he continues helping you prep the meal.

As you place the dish into the oven setting a timer, he clings to your apron strings needily. You decide to put him out of his misery giving him his much-earned affection. He pushes into you insistently as you turn and embrace him, you can feel his thick, hard cock against you and your lips meet in a searing kiss.

You pull back slightly, offering breathily, “We’ve got forty minutes until that needs to come out, you wanna…”

“What happened to ‘after dinner’?” His self-satisfied grin taunting you.

“Well, you may have a one-track mind when it comes to me but that goes both ways, you know?”

“Awww, you can’t hold out, can you?” He teases as if he wasn’t just hovering over you ready to pounce.

You pout at him, “I could if I wanted to. You’re the one whose already hard up over nothing.”

“Oh yeah, and if I dip my fingers between your legs, I’m not going to find a soaking mess, am I?”

You blush looking away, he’s called your bluff and he knows it. Stepping closer and pushing you against the counter, you gasp as you make contact with it, your hands bracing against the edge.

He caresses the side of your face, bringing your eyes to his. His fingertips trace your jaw before coming up to the curve of your lips. He doesn’t need to say anything, you part your lips and his fingers slip in, first one, then another as you slobber all over them. Sucking and swirling your tongue around his digits he adds a third and you moan around them.

“Yeah, that’s it baby. You like that don’t ya?” His deep, rumbly voice sends a shiver down your spine and you nod in response.

He chuckles darkly, “Gonna give you something else to wrap those pretty lips around soon, you want that?”

“Mhmmm…” You mumble around his fingers, drool dripping down your chin.

He drags his fingers out of your mouth slowly with a lewd, wet slurp escaping your lips, leaving you a sloppy, drooling mess. You huff out shallow breaths, your chest heaving as his eyes rake over you.

“Always such a pretty little whore for me, love how much of a mess you make of yourself.” He hums.

You whine pathetically, looking up at him through your lashes, “Can I… can I suck your dick now, sir?”

He decides to have some fun with it, pretending to pause in thought as if he has to consider it.

You sink to your knees before him, hands coming up to rest at his hips, “Please… please, sir.” You beg with a pout.

He hums, “Well… since you asked so nicely… I’m gonna have to say yes.”

Your hands are quick to jump to his belt, undoing it hurriedly as you mumble, “Thankyouthankyouthankyou…”

Despite his cocky demeanour, Eddie still finds it hard to believe that he could ever be so lucky as to have someone like you, kneeling at his feet begging to suck his cock, thanking him for it too.

You roll down his jeans and boxers together in one motion to be met with the sight of his ruddy, leaking cock.

You admire it for a moment as he reaches down a hand to glide over it. The same one that had just been in your mouth, spreading your drool and his precum over its length. He growls lowly, “You see what you do to me sweetheart? And you expect me to wait? Nuh uh go ahead now I want you to take it all.”

You nod licking at his heavy balls for a moment before running your tongue along his length. You repeat this a few times, tracing over bulging veins before finally coming up to his tip swirling your tongue around it and enveloping it between your lips. You look up at him, his eyes half-lidded, head thrown back panting softly between pursed lips. As you take more of him into your mouth he groans encouragingly, “Yeah, just like that. Take all of it in for me.”

You continue until your nose brushes against the hair at his base, balls resting against your chin, you breathe in his musky scent. You whine around him and his hand comes down to stroke the back of your head, “Such a good girl… such a good little slut for me…”

You begin bobbing up and down along his length, breathing harshly from your nose and flooding your already wet panties. When his hips begin to thrust shallowly and you feel his length twitch against your tongue, he gives you a little warning tap on the shoulder. You know he’s close, you double down your efforts rolling his balls in the palm of your hand, hollowing your cheeks more firmly as he gasps above you.

“Babe, please I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum soon.” He pants out.

And that is in fact your goal, you want him to cum deep down your throat. You moan around him, swallowing him down greedily.

Both his hands drop to your shoulders gripping them tightly as he thrusts forward just a little more, his cock pulses in your mouth as a steady stream of cum hits the back of your throat. You gulp down as much as you can, some trickles from the corners of your mouth as he pulls out shakily. You scoop it up with a finger pushing the rest into your mouth, sucking it down with a moan, eyes fluttering closed. You suckle on your own fingers a little longer than necessary before he’s pulling you up from the ground to face him. He eases your hand out of your mouth and presses his lips to your own, tasting himself on you as your lips part inviting him in.

His forehead rest against your own as his lips break away from yours to mumble, “Fuck, that was amazing.”

You hum in response.

His hand trails down between you, slipping under your apron he teases the skin at the top of your waistband. You reach behind yourself, tugging on the apron strings until they come apart and you let the fabric fall to the ground between you. He grins, pushing his hand into your pants rubbing you over your ruined panties, “What did I say, huh… you’re absolutely soaked. Is that what sucking dick does for you? Or was it just thinking about it that got you worked up?”

You whine, squirming against his hand as he presses it into your puffy lips and circles your swollen clit.

“You gonna answer me, or are you that cockdrunk?”

You nod finally managing to speak up, “Yeah, I was wet just thinking about it… the whole time we were… we were cooking… I just… I just…”

He continues pressing circles into your folds firmly, putting on a soothing voice he whispers in your ear, “Oh, sweetheart it’s ok… I know...”

But he follows this with a dark chuckle, “I have an idea, but you’re not gonna like it.” His touch recedes somewhat until he’s just barely brushing his fingertips against you.

You whine desperately, hips pressing forward searching for more contact, but he pulls away completely. Moving to tuck himself away he pulls up his pants.

“You said you could hold out if you wanted, well I think I’m just going to make you.”

Your eyes widen, your hand coming to grip his arm, “Please, no. I’ve been good, please sir.”

“Ah, ah no amount of begging is gonna change my mind. You wanted me to wait ‘til after dinner. You thought you could make it that long too. So, it stands to reason that you should be able to now, right?”

“No, please.” You all but sob out.

He caresses your cheek, “Awww, baby I think you can do it… for me?”

Now he’s gone and done it, he had to utter those magic words. You sigh, mumbling softly in agreement, “For you.”

He grins broadly, “That’s my good girl. Now the oven still has a little more than twenty minutes left, how about we clean up here and set the table.”

“Ok.” You reply, pouting and hanging your head.

Kitchen tidied, table set, you’ve been squirming the whole way, your slick cooling against you a constant reminder. The buzz of the timer going off snaps you to attention. You fumble with a tea towel moving to get the dish from the oven but Eddie stops you with a hand on your arm.

“Here let me get that, you just sit your pretty little butt down at the table and I’ll bring it over.”

You do as he says sitting in your spot, you begin rocking back and forth against the seat beneath you, almost unconsciously seeking some relief. When Eddie brings out the food he narrows his eyes at you, mouth turning down. He admonishes you, “Hey none of that now, I know you can control yourself.”

Your hips halt in their motions, you look up at him apologetically, “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“That’s better.” He piles food onto your plate before serving himself.

You protest, “Hey, that’s way too much! I can’t finish all that!”

“If you don’t finish your dinner, you don’t get your ‘dessert’.”

“But we didn’t make any dessert… oh, oooh.” You hum in realisation.

He chuckles at you, maintaining his domineering attitude “You can be such a dumb little cockslut sometimes, can’t you?”

You whine at him, “Not fair, you know I’m… distracted at the moment.”

“Oh, I know baby. Now come on and eat your food.”

“Please take some off my plate, I can’t. You know I already ate a little before.” A little smirk threatens to break through.

He falls for your bait, asking, “Hmmm, what’s that? What did you eat sweetheart?”

“Your cum… your cock… your fingers. Don’t you remember? You stuffed me so full, don’t even know how I can manage another bite of anything.” You tease, batting your eyelashes at him.

He groans, “Don’t be cheeky now or I’ll make you wait even longer.”

“Please, just take some off my plate. I promise I’ll finish it.”

He concedes holding out his hand for your plate, “Alright, give it here.”

He scoops what should have been the rest of his portion onto his plate before handing it back and tucking in.

You wolf down your food any sense of decorum out the window and he lets you, eyes glittering in amusement as he takes his time savouring every bite.

You finish long before he does, you know he’s dragging it out on purpose, you know that’s why he initially piled your plate so high. You huff crossing your arms over your chest, trying to subtly squeeze your thighs together, but it provides little relief.

He gives an exaggerated groan, eyes fluttering shut, tossing back his head as he swallows, “God this is amazing, babe. You really outdid yourself with dinner.”

“Oh, shut up you ass and just finish eating already. Don’t act like you don’t know what you’re doing. We both know what you’re doing.” You huff.

He smirks back at you, clutching his chest dramatically, “Me? I’m perfectly innocent. Just enjoying this wonderful meal my gorgeous girl and I prepared. Can’t I do that?”

“It’s probably fucking cold by now just hurry up.” You grumble back.

“Yeah, it is, but you’re not cold, are you? Still all hot and bothered for me?” He teases.

You ball up a napkin and throw it at his face, “You’re mean. You’re so mean. If you keep this up, I may just have to go take care of myself.”

He growls at you, “You wouldn’t dare, you know I’ll punish you if you do.”

You poke your tongue out at him, “So what if you do? I can take it!”

He takes on a warning tone, “Easy now, don’t wanna go saying something you’ll regret. Just be a little more patient, I’m almost done.”

You roll your eyes, “Ugh, fine.”

You are quite literally on the edge of your seat when he takes his final bite, still he takes his time placing his cutlery on the plate gently, taking a sip of his drink, dabbing at the corners of his mouth daintily with a napkin. You’d laugh if you weren’t so frustrated, you rise from your seat grabbing him by the arm and dragging him out of his chair towards the bedroom.

“Babe, what about the dishes?” He asks in mock protest with a chuckle.

“Forget the fucking dishes I need you right now!” You growl at him.

“Oh, princess needs me now does she? Well, I am happy to oblige.” He allows himself to be led to the bed and you shove him down forcefully, pushing him to lie back with a palm on his chest.

Moving to straddle him before he can react, grinding down on his crotch you can feel his dick straining at his jeans, his cocky little smirk never dropping. You can’t even think of a smart-assed remark regarding his situation, whining desperately as you rub against the rough denim between you, “God, fuck… yes finally.”

He grabs your hips slowing their movements, “Easy now sweetheart, take your time.”

Your hips fight against his grip so he brings them to a complete stop, “Oh, you… you…” you whine, you know what he wants, you know what he’s waiting to hear. You let out a desperate little moan looking down at him, biting your lip before continuing, “Please, sir. Please I waited so long… I was good for you, wasn’t I?”

“That’s it sweetheart, beg for me. Beg to ride my cock.”

“Please let me have it. I need it… I need you… only you.”

“Alright, go on take it out.” You don’t hesitate in undoing his belt and rolling down his pants and boxers to his knees once more as his grip on you loosens.

“Enjoy your reward, you were such a good girl for me. You waited so long, I’m so proud of you.” He croons as you lift your hips from his rucking down your own pants and underwear leaving them tangled around one of your ankles losing patience along the way.

You line up his cock with your weeping hole and he slides right in, all too easily as you moan wantonly.

“Tell me… tell me again how good I was for you, Eddie. Please.” You plead as you bounce along his length, the hair at his base tickling against your swollen clit.

“Oh, sweetheart you were perfect. Such a good little slut, taking everything I give you.”

“God, yes! Fingers please…” You wail and he offers you his hand.

You grasp his wrist pulling his first two fingers in your mouth, suckling on them greedily, drooling and moaning around them.

He takes his free hand to press tight little circles into your clit, bucking up into you and your eyes roll into the back of your head. He growls at you, “God, look at you, taking everything I give you and then some. My perfect little slut.”

Your walls begin to tighten around him, pleasure courses through you sending tingles throughout your body.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

You cry out, your moans muffled by his fingers as your walls flutter around him soaking his cock with your cum. You collapse limply in his arms, breathing heavily as his fingers slip out from between your lips. He continues thrusting up into you, brushing your hair out of your face as he croons, “Oh, that was a big one, wasn’t it sweetheart? See, holding out was worth it, wasn’t it?”

His hands move to grip your hips, you’re still experiencing aftershocks barely registering his words. Still dripping all over him, it runs down his length and over his balls as he groans, “I’m gonna cum too, babe. Can you feel how wet you got me… ugh God wish I could taste it… maybe I will, maybe once I’m done, I’ll eat my cum out of you along with all of yours… you want that?”

You whimper at the stream of filth coming from him, nodding your head against him.

“Yeah, you do. I know my dirty girl. God, fuck… I’m cumming!” He cries out, hips still pistoning away as he floods your cunt with his warm, thick release.

His head drops bumping against your own, you can feel his heart pounding away in his chest as it rises and falls with his ragged breaths.

“Fuck, babe I should keep you on edge more often, you couldn’t even wait to get out of our clothes properly.” He chuckles as his dick slips out of you, your combined fluids slowly dribbling from your entrance. He rolls his jeans off all the way, from underneath you.

“Please, babe I can’t even think straight right now.” You whine back in response.

“That’s right, ‘cause I got you fucked dumb and stuffed full of cum.” He teases, giggling “Hey, that rhymes, ‘fucked dumb and stuffed full of cum’ maybe that’ll be our next song, whatta ya think? Another dedication to you?”

“Oh my God, you are horrible, you know that?” You exclaim disentangling your own pants from your leg to join his at the base of the bed.

“Oh, am I now?” He flips you over, pausing only to remove both of your shirts.

He grins up at you as he positions his head between your sticky thighs. His long curls tickling your legs, he continues, “Are you still, gonna think I’m ‘horrible’ when I’m eating our cum out of your pretty little pussy?”

You don’t even get a chance to answer as he dives in, obscenely slurping up everything your messy cunt has to offer. Your response dies on your lips as he draws a strung-out moan from you with his ministrations. Dragging his tongue all over you, between your folds, along your thighs, delving down between your asscheeks a little. You’re trembling beneath him still sensitive from your last orgasm, when his tongue prods at your clit you scream, “No, stop no please… it’s too much I can’t take it Eddie…”

He pauses looking up at you his chin glistening in a mixture of drool and your combined cum, “You know your safeword sweetheart, if you need to use it go ahead. Otherwise, ’m not stopping ‘til I get at least one more from you, you can do that can’t you? Cum for me, just one more time… for me?” He gives you the most adorable pout and you can’t resist, biting your lip and nodding with a pathetic whine.

He grins devilishly, “That’s my girl.”

Before you know it, his lips are at your entrance once more, tongue delving in deep, giving your poor little clit some respite. His hands clamp down on your trembling thighs keeping you spread wide open as he fucks you on his tongue, you whine above him twisting your hands into his hair, pulling slightly. He growls into you and his tongue moves back up to your clit, flicking at it and sucking hard, you pull even harder on his locks but he persists. You writhe beneath him screaming out in pleasure and pain as he works your oversensitive nub.

“Please… pleasepleaseplease…” You don’t know what you’re begging for, unsure if you want him to stop this torture or continue ‘til you’re gushing all over his tongue.

He continues nevertheless, grinning into you and bringing one hand to press into your soft, spongy walls, grazing over you repeatedly in just the right spot. Your hips rise off the mattress pressing into his face as an overwhelming sensation courses through you, clamping down on his digits you feel a stream of hot liquid squirting out of you, dousing him and the bed beneath you.

You collapse back down on the bed panting and shaking like never before.

He sits up gaping down at you, “Holy shit babe, you just fucking squirted. Jesus H Christ I wanna do that again!”

He moves to tackle you but you manage to hold him back with a hand to his chest, “Enough, let me catch my breath.”

He knows when to back off and does so with a pout. Moving to sit beside you and pulling you to lean against his chest, he runs a hand through your hair soothingly, humming a tune in your ear.

“Still think I’m ‘horrible’?” He asks softly.

“Oh, the worst, absolutely incorrigible, but I love you anyway.” You smile up at him.

“God, I love you too, babe.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“We gonna clean up?” You ask a little reluctant to actually get up, savouring the skin-to-skin contact you share with him.

“Nah, let’s just sit here for a bit, enjoy the afterglow. Still can’t believe you actually squirted… that was… we have to do that again.”

You chuckle at his eagerness, “Save it for next time rockstar.”

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you, you sigh contentedly.

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer - Track 03 - Pick a Memory

Summary: Set in the 70s, Sky Jones, a young woman from L.A., meets Harry Styles, an up-and-coming musician and frontman for the band Wildfire. Told in first person from Sky’s point of view, she shares her journey and what it’s like to fall for a rockstar.

STORY PAGE

Track 03 Word Count: 3.1k

Halo had a shift at the bookstore where she worked, but I was off so I was glad to have the apartment to myself for one afternoon. I was in my room practicing a Joni Mitchell song on guitar when the doorbell rang. I opened the door just enough to peek through the crack, the chain still on it.

“Hi,” he said hesitantly.

“Hi.”

Harry dropped his head, then looked back up at me.

“Can I come in?”

“I guess.”

I shut the door and removed the chain before reopening it and stepping back for Harry to enter. I noticed his eyes were no longer bloodshot, and his hair was wet like he’d just taken a shower. When I closed the door behind him, I got a big whiff. Yep, definitely a shower.

I followed him into the living room where he stopped next to the sofa but didn’t sit down. Instead he turned to face me, his voice still low and gravely.

“I’m sorry.”

I scratched a nonexistent itch on my arm. “Yeah, you mentioned that in your note. But what exactly are you sorry for?”

Harry dropped his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair. “Can I explain?”

I nodded, gesturing toward the couch. Harry sat down and I followed, though I made it a point to remain on the opposite end. I watched as he swallowed hard, wringing his hands nervously.

“Something happened last night.”

I wanted to make some snide remark, but I didn’t. I bit my tongue, deciding to hear him out.

“I um…after you’d left The Troubadour, someone came up to me. He claimed he was a manager and wanted to represent Wildfire. Even though we already have a manager, I agreed to have a chat with him. We sat at the bar and he bought me a drink. I was kinda feeling the effects of the show, you know? I was on this natural high, but my head was pounding, I suppose from the adrenaline. So this bloke offered me some pills. I swear, I thought they were just for a headache.”

“You took strange pills from a strange man?”

Harry groaned. “I know, it sounds ludicrous. But I had a headache and I thought they were aspirin or something.”

“What were they?”

“I dunno exactly. Probably some sort of hallucinogen like PCP. I started feeling dizzy and told the bloke I had to go. He said something about giving me a ride and for some reason I took it. He drove me here. I honestly can’t even remember giving him the address, and I dunno how I remembered it.”

“Do you even know who this guy was?” I asked.

Harry shrugged. “I think his name was French. For some reason that sticks in my mind.”

“You mean he had a French name, or his actual name was French?”

“His name was French. His last name.”

“But you’d never heard of him before?”

“No.”

“That’s…scary.”

“I know.”

“What if you hadn’t made it here, Harry? What if something worse had happened?”

“It did.”

I glared at him. “Huh?”

Harry looked down at his hands and twisted one of the rings on his finger.

“I was horrible to you,” he mumbled.

I swallowed hard and traced a pattern on the sofa.

“I don’t remember most of it, Sky. But I remember being a jerk, and you didn’t deserve that. You have to believe me when I say that wasn’t me.”

I nodded slowly. “I knew it wasn’t. You frightened me.”

Harry shifted on the couch to face me. “I’m so sorry. I don’t…I don’t do drugs like that. I don’t like not being in control. And I was completely out of control.”

I chewed my bottom lip and sat up straight. He hadn’t mentioned Simon, and I didn’t bring up his name. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to know about that, and figured he would tell me if he wanted to.

“Apology accepted.”

Harry sighed. “Good. So…what exactly did I do?”

“You know what?” I raised my hands. “Let’s just…forget about it.”

“Alright.”

“Would you like something to drink?” I rose from the sofa.

Harry grimaced, touching his stomach. “Um…maybe just a glass of water.”

“Okay.”

I hadn’t expected Harry to follow me into the kitchen. He stood at the end of the counter, watching me fill two glasses, before handing him one.

“I do remember one thing,” said Harry after he’d emptied his glass.

Oh, no. “What’s that?”

“Your eyes.”

I felt myself start to smile, but I pursed my lips together. “What about them?”

“Um…something to do with…rain clouds.”

“Hmm.”

I averted my gaze, focusing on my glass of water as though it was the best thing I’d ever drunk in my life. Then I set the empty glass on the counter and released a deep breath.

“Sky?”

“Yes?”

“Are you ever gonna tell me your real name?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Nope.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not important.”

“What is important then?”

I shrugged. “Music.”

“What about people?”

“Yes. Some people.”

“I wanna know more about you, Sky.”

I blinked and looked up at him. “What do you wanna know? Besides my name?”

“Why do you always wear that locket?” he pointed at the gold pendant that hung from my neck.

“Why do you always wear that cross?”

“I asked you first.”

I sighed and looked down at the necklace, fingering it for a moment before I opened the clasp.

“It’s my brother,” I said as I watched Harry’s boots when he took a step closer.

“Your brother?”

I lifted my eyes, not quite meeting his. He took the locket from my hand, cupping it gently in his own, then looked up at me questioningly.

“He died in Vietnam.”

Harry inspected the tiny photo for a while before clearing his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“Thanks.” I closed the locket, making Harry’s hand fall to his side, though his face was still inches from mine.

“But why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you wear it?”

“That’s a stupid thing to ask,” I spat.

Harry shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s a genuine question. I know why you have a picture of your brother in a locket. That makes sense. But why do you wear it everyday? All the time?”

I considered his question for a while, first wanting to yell at him that he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about and he had some nerve. Then I thought about his words, really let them roll around in my brain. He was right. I wore it all the time. I never took it off actually, except to shower. My chest shook as the answer came to me.

“It’s been eight years,” I said softly. “He would’ve been turning thirty this year. I guess…I guess I just don’t want to forget him.”

Harry bit his bottom lip and nodded, an unspoken understanding.

“Do I get another question?” he inquired.

I smiled. “I guess so.”

“When I came to your door earlier, I could hear a guitar and singing. Was that you?”

I blushed. “Yeah.”

“It was lovely. Will you play something for me?”

“I’m not that good.”

“Please?”

I took in his expression, his eyes kind and encouraging.

“C’mon,” I said, walking toward my bedroom.

I grabbed my guitar which I’d left on the bed and slung the strap over my head.

“What would you like me to play?”

“The song you were playing before.”

“Okay…but it’s still a work in progress.”

Harry merely grinned and sat on the bed. Then he held his hand out.

“Let’s hear it.”

I nervously began to strum the chords, then took a breath to begin singing, hoping to God my voice wouldn’t crack.

“Rows and flows of angel hair And ice cream castles in the air And feather canyons everywhere I’ve looked at clouds that way But now they only block the sun They rain and snow on everyone So many things I would have done But clouds got in my way”

Harry continued to watch me as I sang and strummed, his lips spreading into a winning smile that made me weak in the knees. I had to keep my mind on the chords and the lyrics I was singing, and not the way he was making me feel, but I admit it was difficult. Why did he have to look like that?

When I reached the last chorus, I had to look away, so I pretended like I was singing to Robert Plant on the poster behind him.

“I’ve looked at life from both sides now From win and lose and still somehow It’s life’s illusions I recall I really don’t know life at all”

Harry rose from the bed and applauded when I finished, although I knew I had messed up a couple of times.

“Beautiful,” he announced.

“Thank you.” I removed the guitar and set it in its spot, my cheeks a rosy pink.

“I like your voice.”

“I like Joni’s,” I commented. I wasn’t very good at accepting compliments. “She’s probably my favorite. I love her songs.”

“She writes some good ones,” Harry agreed.

“What’s your favorite song?”

“Favorite song? Ever?”

“Yes,” I nodded, walking over to the turntable.

Harry shook his head. “That’s impossible. I can’t choose one favorite.”

“Why not?”

“Because…music isn’t about picking favorites. Songs…they’re memories.”

I blinked as I turned around, looking at him standing there next to my bed, the glow of the lamp underneath the orange scarf casting a shadow on the wall behind him.

“What do you mean?”

Harry swallowed. “Well…like, pick a memory.”

“Of when?”

“Anytime. Childhood. A memory of Halo.” His eyebrows wiggled as he grinned. “Of Comet.”

I smiled. “I have great memories of running and playing with Comet in Halo’s backyard.”

“See? Now put a song with it.”

I thought for a moment until a giggle escaped my throat.

“I used to want to be in a girl group. Like The Crystals or The Ronettes. I would sing their songs a lot as a kid, and I have a memory of performing a solo of ‘He’s A Rebel’ for Comet.”

Harry chuckled. “Perfect. Great memory, innit?”

“Yeah.” I looked down at my feet. “But not all memories are good.”

“But if you put a song with it, it is. Even if it makes you weep, Sky. It’s a good thing.”

I raised my head and smirked. “Didn’t know you were so deep.”

“‘m not. Just love music, like you.”

Harry hopped onto my bed like some young boy defying the laws of gravity and proceeded to remove his boots. I watched as he stretched out his long limbs and laid down on my pile of pillows.

“You’re right,” I admitted.

“About what, love?”

“Songs being memories. Even if they make you cry.”

“Mmhm.” Harry closed his eyes and put his arm behind his head.

“‘Daydream Believer’ does that to me.”

Harry popped open one eye. “The Monkees?”

I bit my lip and nodded. “Came out the year my brother died.”

“Oh. But that’s sort of a happy song.”

“I know. I think that’s why it made me cry. My world had just crumbled and Davy Jones was telling me to cheer up. I couldn’t listen to it for a long time.”

I stared at Harry as he rolled over onto his side and stared me right back. I half suspected him to laugh at me, but he didn’t.

“I’m sorry. I understand,” he said instead.

I sighed. “It’s okay now. It’s actually become one of my favorites. I like to think of it as my brother’s way of telling me I was gonna be okay.”

Harry blinked slowly with a nod, then laid back on the pillow. I got an idea and grabbed my smaller stack of 45s, not nearly as impressive as my LP collection. When Davy’s voice sounded, I saw the dimple dip in Harry’s cheek.

“Oh I could hide ‘neath the wings Of the bluebird as she sings The six o’clock alarm would never ring…”

I started to giggle as Harry swayed back and forth on my bed, his eyes still shut, a happy boyish grin on his face.

“Cheer up sleepy Jean…”

Harry popped his eyes open then and sang along with me. Then he sat up, grabbing the tambourine on my nightstand and hitting it against his palm. By the end of the song, I was prancing across my rug to Harry’s percussion.

“Confession,” I beamed, my cheeks already sore from laughing, “a year or so later, I developed an obsession with not only Davy Jones, but all male British singers.”

Harry winked at me. “But of course.”

I blushed.

“The real question is,” Harry said when the record had stopped and he returned my tambourine to its spot on my bedside table, “were you a Homecoming Queen?”

I shook my head hard, making my long hair fan out.

“Not even close.”

“That’s a shame. Why not?”

I shrugged, making a sound similar to “I don’t know,” though my mouth was still shut. “I was never nominated.”

“What would you have to do to be nominated?”

“Be pretty,” I mumbled.

“Well then, you should’ve won.”

Though my smile grew slowly, I couldn’t stop it. My chest heaved like I’d just run a marathon, and inside I could feel a million butterflies fluttering at once.

“Keep the records going, if you like,” Harry gestured to the turntable. “I’m enjoying it.”

“Okay.”

I turned back to my stack of 45s, hesitating when I pulled out the Buddy Holly record. Deciding I wanted to hear it, I placed it on the record player and dropped the needle. When I looked back at Harry, he was lying on his side again, his head propped up in his hand. He raised his brows as the music began to play, obviously surprised by my choice.

“Just you know why Why you and I Will bye and bye Know true love ways”

I couldn’t move. I stood in one spot in the corner of my room as Harry rose from the bed, seemingly in slow motion. Only my chest betrayed me, giving away my nerves and anticipation with each heavy breath as Harry walked towards me. Stopping in front of me, he towered over me like a tree, even without his boots. I stared at his chest, noticing for the first time how tall he was, until he gently lifted my hand, threading his fingers through mine. Then with his other hand, he clipped my chin to look at him before sliding it around my waist.

“Sometimes we’ll sigh Sometimes we’ll cry”

Harry and I swayed as the sound of the strings filled our ears. I hadn’t slow danced since the prom. He turned me around, his eyes never leaving mine. I wouldn’t have been able to look away anyway, even if I’d tried. Harry had a magical quality about him, not just on stage I realized. He was something special. Something beautiful.

I wanted him to kiss me. But I think even if he hadn’t, I would have been okay with it. I wanted to tell him how the song reminded me of my youth, of taking trips to the beach with my family and evening picnics and parties with my parents’ friends and making fun of my brother and his girlfriend when I caught them making out. But none of that mattered now. I was making my own memory.

“Throughout the days Our true love ways Will bring us joys to share With those who really care”

He kissed me softly at first, sending a chill through my entire body. My eyes fluttered open to see his face, his eyelids heavy, still focused on my mouth. He lifted his hand and dragged his thumb across my bottom lip before kissing me again, pulling me closer. I released my hand from his and brought it to his shoulder and around his neck. I felt him sigh as he kissed me deeper, his tongue meeting mine. Then he turned me around once more, guiding me backwards to the bed where he laid me down.

“Sometimes we’ll sigh Sometimes we’ll cry And we’ll know why Just you and I Know true love ways”

The record stopped, but not the music in my head. We kissed for a long time, creating a melody of our own. Harry’s hands slid up my sides, one stopping at my breast, the other continuing to my neck where he cradled my head, his fingers in my hair. He settled his body between my legs, igniting the heat that was already apparent.

Suddenly, I heard a noise, followed by a voice bellowing my name.

“Sky! Lemme in! You have the chain on!”

“Oh, shit,” I cursed.

Harry laughed and sat up. I followed, straightening my shirt before heading for the door.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“’s alright,” he smirked, and I was pretty sure I caught a twinkle in his eye.

“Hey,” I greeted Halo when I unlatched the lock.

“What the hell, Sky? Since when do you put the chain on?”

Halo pushed past me to set a few bags on the table.

“Since forever. But I usually take it off before you get home. Just…forgot.”

“Well, I brought food,” she pointed as she went to the kitchen to get something to drink. “I thought we could eat and then you could help me with…”

It was then that she finally spotted Harry, standing just outside my doorway.

“Oh. Hi, Harry…” she furrowed her brows. “Mitch didn’t tell me you guys were coming.”

“Ah, no,” he scratched the back of his head. “Just me. I came to…talk to Sky.”

“He came to talk to me,” I echoed.

“Oh….oh!” Halo sounded, realization finally hitting her.

I heard Harry chuckle behind me. I turned slightly to catching his dimple as he smiled at his feet, which I noticed now had his boots returned to them.

“I should…probably…” Harry pointed at the front door, “…go.”

“Oh. Okay.” I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment.

I followed him to the door and told him goodbye. When I shut it behind him and leaned against it, however, I immediately opened it again.

“Harry!” I called, even though he had only just made it to the top of the landing.

“Yeah?”

Smiling, I closed the door and jogged up to him.

“Thank you.”

He smiled back. “What for?”

“For today.”

Standing on my tiptoes, I reached for his face and kissed him on the mouth. His grin widened as he gazed down at me.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

He kissed me again before turning for the stairs. I watched him descend until he’d reached the bottom and waved up at me. Then I went back inside to a very curious Halo.

Songs mentioned:

Joni Mitchell - Both Sides Now

The Crystals - He's a Rebel

The Monkees - Daydream Believer

Buddy Holly - True Love Ways

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