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aquaholicsanonymousworld · 1 month ago

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Let's be Frank, so we can makeout

Pairing: Dr. Frank Langdon x Sr.Resident!Reader

Author's note: I'm trying something new with formatting. I can't decide yet if Frank is hot, so they're on and off in this fic. It's LONG AF.

INT. ON-CALL ROOM – NIGHT

The clock ticks past midnight. The overhead light is off, just the warm glow of a desk lamp humming in the corner. Scrubs tossed over the back of a chair. The room smells faintly of antiseptic and coffee gone cold.

FRANK LANGDON sits on the edge of the cot, running a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. You stand across from him, arms folded, leaning against the wall like it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

YOU (quiet, sharp) You always do this.

FRANK Do what?

YOU Pretend like it’s fine until you decide it’s not. Until you shut down and I’m left trying to figure out which version of you I’m waking up next to.

Frank lets out a tired laugh, more bitter than amused.

FRANK Right. Because you’re so emotionally available. You love to play the victim when things get messy.

YOU I’m not playing anything, Frank. I’m tired. Tired of being some in-between thing for you. One second we’re all in, the next you’re pushing me away like I’m the reason you’re miserable here.

FRANK Don’t make this about the hospital.

YOU Everything’s about the hospital with you. Who gets the best case, who’s on Langdon’s level, who’s chasing chief— (beat) I’m not your competition, Frank. But you treat me like I am.

Silence. Frank stands slowly, the space between you suddenly too small, too loud.

FRANK Maybe we’re just bad at this.

YOU No. We’re just too stubborn to admit we want different things.

He nods, barely, like it costs him something. You look at each other—years of tension, passion, and what-ifs sitting in the air between you.

FRANK You staying here tonight?

YOU No. Not tonight.

You grab your bag, your scrubs sleeve brushing his arm as you walk past. He doesn’t stop you. The door clicks shut behind you.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – TRAUMA BAY – MORNING

The hospital hums with that chaotic early-shift energy—coffee in hand, eyes half-awake, pages already going off. FRANK stands on one side of the group, jaw tight, scrubs freshly pressed. You’re on the opposite side, lips set in a neutral line, trying to look like you slept.

DR. ROBBY, smug as ever with a clipboard in hand, steps into the center of the bay with a grin.

DR. ROBBY Alright, folks, welcome to the pitt. These are your senior residents—Dr. Langdon and Dr. [Y/L/N]. Learn from them, don’t flirt with them, and for the love of God, don’t interrupt them during a trauma unless you’ve got someone actively bleeding out.

A ripple of nervous laughter from the med students.

You glance toward Frank. He’s already looking at you, but it’s that unreadable, guarded look he gives patients before telling them bad news.

DR. ROBBY (CONT’D) We’ve got two second year residents and three med students. You’ll be shadowing on rotations, and if you’re lucky, Langdon might even remember your names by the end of the week.

FRANK Don’t count on it.

The students laugh again, and Robby raises an eyebrow like he’s clocking the tension between the two of you—but he doesn’t say anything.

He hands off the list and claps his hands together.

DR. ROBBY Alright. Let’s make some memories. Or at least don’t kill anyone before lunch.

The group starts to disperse. You turn to grab a chart when one of the second-year residents, a perky-looking girl with a glasses, stops you.

DR. KING Dr. [Your Last Name], sorry—just wanted to say I’m really excited to learn from you. Everyone says you and Dr. Langdon are like, the trauma dream team.

Your jaw tightens. You manage a smile.

YOU We get the job done.

Frank brushes past behind you, just close enough for his arm to skim yours again. You don’t turn around, but your whole body goes stiff.

He pauses only long enough to say—

FRANK You taking the first trauma, or should I?

YOU I’ll take it.

He nods and walks off, already barking orders at a med student. You stay where you are for a second too long, the buzz of the hospital around you not quite loud enough to drown out the tension still hanging in the air.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – TRAUMA BAY – LATER THAT MORNING

EMS BURSTS THROUGH THE DOORS with a patient on a stretcher—mid-30s male, multiple GSWs to the abdomen and chest, semi-conscious. The place snaps into action.

EMT GSW, multiple entries. No exit wounds. BP’s dropping—he started crashing in the rig.

You and Frank are already gloving up. You reach the patient first, pressing your hands to a bleeding wound.

YOU I need two units of O-neg, chest tray prepped, and someone call the OR—now!

Frank moves to the head of the bed, cutting the shirt off fast.

FRANK He's got diminished breath sounds on the right. We need a chest tube, stat.

YOU Then do it.

FRANK Don’t tell me what to do—I am doing it.

You glare at him, and for a split second, the trauma fades and it’s just you two again—charged, combative, dangerously synced.

You shove a tray toward him harder than necessary. He grabs it without missing a beat, intentionally brushing past your side—shoulder colliding with yours.

YOU You’re in my space.

FRANK Then move faster.

You don’t—if anything, you step closer. It’s tight quarters, the trauma team dancing around you two, pretending not to notice.

You press gauze into a deep abdominal wound, blood coating your gloves up to the wrists.

YOU You missed that bleeder. He’s tanking.

FRANK I see it. Clamp.

You both reach for the same clamp and your hands collide. You don’t let go. He doesn’t either.

YOU Get out of the way.

FRANK You get out of the way.

A beat. You’re inches from his face. Breathing hard. Covered in blood and too close.

DR. ROBBY (O.S.) Hey! Are we saving this guy or circling the drain on your personal lives?

You snap apart.

Frank shoves the clamp into your hand. You dive back in. The moment’s gone—but not forgotten.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – HALLWAY OUTSIDE TRAUMA BAY – CONTINUOUS

The patient’s been stabilized and wheeled off to the OR. The trauma bay buzz has dimmed, but you’re still riding the high—adrenaline in your veins, blood still drying on your gloves.

You rip your mask down as you walk out, Frank a few paces ahead. You catch up, your tone sharp but not loud.

YOU What is up with you today? You’re so irritable.

Frank doesn’t slow down. Doesn’t even look at you.

FRANK We just saved a guy with three holes in his chest. Forgive me for not being chipper.

YOU No—this started before that. You’ve been acting like I personally offended your entire bloodline since morning rounds.

He stops walking. Turns slowly, eyes narrowed.

FRANK You wanna do this here? Right now?

YOU I’d rather not do it at all, but you keep shoving into me like I’m in your way. I’m not one of your med students, Frank. Don’t take your ego out on me.

He steps in, voice low but intense.

FRANK You're the one who turned last night into a war zone and then strutted in here like nothing happened.

YOU Because I have to. Because we don’t get to take personal days just because our situationship’s in the ICU.

FRANK Right. Forgot how easy it is for you to compartmentalize.

YOU Don’t act like you’re the only one bleeding in this.

The tension simmers between you—burning-hot silence in the sterile hallway. A nurse walks by and shoots you both a look before disappearing around the corner.

Frank exhales sharply, scrubs ruffled from the case, jaw ticking.

FRANK We need to get our shit together.

YOU You think?

He takes a step back. Less hostile now, but the walls are back up.

FRANK I’ll take the next trauma. You need air.

He walks off without waiting for a reply. You watch him go, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something else you’ll regret.

EXT. PITTSBURGH MED – LOADING DOCK AREA – LATE AFTERNOON

The sun’s starting to dip behind the buildings, casting long shadows across the pavement. You lean against the wall in your wrinkled scrubs, a cigarette between your fingers. You don't even smoke that often—but today? Today demands it.

You take a long drag, exhale like it might clear your head.

The door creaks open behind you. You don’t turn around—you already know who it is.

DR. ROBBY (O.S.) You know, for someone who acts like she has it all under control, you really suck at hiding your meltdowns.

You glance sideways. Robby walks up slowly, holding a to-go cup from the cafeteria, sipping it like it’s anything better than sludge.

YOU It’s one cigarette. Don’t tell Langdon, he’ll think he got to me.

DR. ROBBY Pretty sure the entire trauma bay knows he got to you.

You shoot him a look, but it’s half-hearted. Robby leans on the wall beside you, not asking permission.

DR. ROBBY (CONT’D) You two gonna keep throwing surgical trays at each other until someone loses a hand? Or you planning on actually talking to him?

YOU We talked. Last night. And this morning. And mid-trauma. (beat) We just don’t know how to stop breaking each other.

Robby takes a sip. Nods slowly.

DR. ROBBY Yeah, well, you’re both too damn stubborn to walk away and too obsessed with each other to quit. Classic senior resident mess. Happens every year.

YOU We’re not some cliché.

DR. ROBBY Sure you’re not.

He’s quiet for a moment, then glances at you, more serious now.

DR. ROBBY (CONT’D) You’re a good doctor. But if you let whatever this is spill over into the job? You’ll tank both your reputations faster than you can say “co-chief.”

You flinch, just barely.

YOU He’s gunning for it too.

DR. ROBBY I know. That’s the problem. You’re both excellent. And chaotic. It’s kind of entertaining, but also a nightmare for everyone else.

You put the cigarette out with the heel of your shoe and cross your arms, eyes on the sky.

YOU What would you do?

DR. ROBBY You really want advice from the guy who’s been divorced twice and lives off vending machine pretzels?

You smile for the first time all day.

YOU I’ll take what I can get.

Robby finishes his coffee, tosses the empty cup in the nearby bin.

DR. ROBBY Talk to him. Not in a trauma bay. Not in the stairwell. Talk like you don’t want to win for once.

He walks back inside, leaving the door open behind him. You linger in the quiet, letting the words settle, and finally—finally—you breathe.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – TRAUMA BAY – EARLY EVENING

Another call. Another rush. A construction worker, mid-40s, fell from scaffolding. Suspected pelvic fracture, possible internal bleeding. The trauma bay is alive again—gloves snapping, vitals shouting, the whole rhythm kicking into gear.

You’re already moving with purpose, snapping into leadership like muscle memory.

YOU Let’s go—two large bores, draw labs, get a pan scan ready. I want blood hanging before imaging. Who’s with me?

One of the new interns—Whitaker, nervous but eager—steps up.

WHITAKER I—I can insert the second line.

You glance at him, firm but not cruel.

YOU You only get one try. Don’t fish.

WHITAKER Yes, Dr. [Y/L/N].

You catch Frank watching from across the gurney, lips tight but unreadable. He doesn’t say anything—he lets you lead. He lets you.

You work in tandem: you’re at the abdomen, Frank at the airway, both moving like you’ve done this a thousand times. Because you have. Even when you’re not speaking, your instincts match.

FRANK He’s stable enough to move. We’ve got time for CT.

YOU Let’s go. Everyone move with a purpose.

The med students shuffle out, wide-eyed and exhilarated. The gurney rolls off toward imaging, and the trauma bay finally quiets.

You turn, wipe your bloodied gloves on a towel, and glance at Frank. He’s not looking at you—he’s checking vitals on the monitor. So you step closer.

YOU Hey.

He looks up.

YOU (CONT’D) Can we talk? After shift?

Frank searches your face for a beat. He doesn’t deflect. Doesn’t smirk. Just nods.

FRANK Yeah. Okay.

You nod back. That’s it. No flare. No dig. Just a quiet truce.

Then you turn and walk out of the bay, head high, ignoring the way your heart’s starting to beat a little too fast.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – LOCKER ROOM – LATER THAT NIGHT

You check the time. Shift change is creeping closer. You’ve reviewed your charts, followed up on orders, even looped back with Whitaker to debrief his first trauma line. But Frank’s nowhere.

You poke your head into the on-call room. Empty.

Check the charting station. Nothing.

You finally corner Dr. Robby near the vending machine.

YOU Where’s Langdon?

Robby doesn’t look up from the vending machine, punching a selection like it’s personal.

DR. ROBBY He went home.

YOU What? His shift wasn’t over for another three hours.

DR. ROBBY (avoiding eye contact) Guess he needed a break.

YOU Robby.

DR. ROBBY You wanted space. Maybe he’s giving it to you.

He grabs his snack and walks off without waiting for your reply. You stand there, unsettled, then head to the nurses’ station, where Dana is signing off her charts.

YOU Do you know why Frank left early?

Dana doesn’t even pause her scribbling.

DANA Nope.

YOU You’re lying.

DANA I’m ignoring.

She tears off a sheet, hands it to a med tech, and turns to leave.

DANA (CONT’D) Let it go for tonight.

You don’t.

INT. PITTSBURGH MED – MED STUDENT WORKROOM – MINUTES LATER

You pass by the small conference room where the med students are huddled over sandwiches and trauma notes. As you walk by, you catch a few murmured voices.

WHITAKER (O.S.) I’m just saying—it was weird. Dr. Robby just pulled him mid-shift and told him to clock out. Didn’t even let him finish the case.

You stop in your tracks.

JAVADI (O.S.) Frank Langdon? No way.

SANTOS (O.S.) Javadi, I saw the drawer. He had oxy stashed in there. Said it was from his back, but still—why bring that into the pit?

Silence.

WHITAKER (O.S.) You’re not gonna report him?

SANTOS (O.S.) Are you? I like my GPA where it is.

They laugh nervously. You don’t.

You back away from the door slowly, stomach dropping like the ground’s been pulled out from under you. Your heart is hammering. All that blood in the trauma bay, all the tension, all the looks from Robby and Dana—they weren’t about you.

They were about him.

INT. FRANK’S APARTMENT – NIGHT

You bang on the door harder than you mean to. It’s late, but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking, your chest is tight, and every unanswered question from the shift is clawing at your throat.

The door opens. Frank stands there in a t-shirt and sweats, hair damp like he just got out of the shower, but his eyes are sharp—too alert for someone who supposedly needed rest.

FRANK What the hell—

YOU Don’t lie to me.

He pauses. The breath he takes is too slow. Calculated.

FRANK Come inside.

YOU No. Say it here. Did you get pulled because they caught you with pills?

His mouth opens—then shuts again.

That’s all you need.

YOU (CONT’D) Jesus, Frank. What the hell are you doing?

FRANK It wasn’t—

YOU Don’t say “it wasn’t a big deal.” I’m not a med student. I’m not Robby. You don’t get to gaslight me.

FRANK It was from my back. I’ve had that bottle since last year.

YOU Bullshit! Then why hide it? Why sneak it from the pitt?

A beat. He looks away.

FRANK Because sometimes I don’t sleep. And when I do, I wake up like my whole body’s still in the OR. And I’m exhausted and I’m angry and everything feels like it’s caving in—and I needed something to get through the shift.

You stare at him, heart pounding.

YOU So you put us at risk. You put patients at risk.

FRANK I didn’t take anything on shift. I swear to God.

You want to believe him. But you’re still standing in the hallway. Still frozen on the fact that Robby and Dana covered for him. That a med student saw it before you did.

YOU You should’ve come to me.

FRANK I didn’t want you to look at me like this.

YOU Like what?

FRANK Like I’m broken.

Silence.

YOU I don’t think you’re broken. (beat) I think you’re fucking reckless. And I don’t know how to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.

He doesn’t answer. He just stands there in the doorway, jaw clenched, pain flickering just behind his eyes.

You take a step back.

YOU (CONT’D) You need to fix this. Not for me. For yourself. Because if Robby doesn’t report it, someone else will.

You turn and walk away.

This time, he doesn’t stop you.

INT. ON-CALL ROOM – TWO NIGHTS LATER

It’s nearly midnight again. The hospital is quieter, the chaos subdued to soft monitor beeps and distant footsteps. You’re sitting on the cot, reviewing labs, pretending to care about numbers you can’t focus on.

The door opens.

You don’t look up.

FRANK (O.S.) Hey.

Your stomach clenches. You close the chart.

YOU Is this where you tell me you’re fine and I overreacted?

FRANK No. (beat) I’m not fine. And you didn’t overreact.

You finally look at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, looking more like himself than he did the other night—but still not all the way there. There's a rawness in his face you’ve only seen a few times. After a bad code. After his father died. After your first fight.

YOU Did you talk to Robby?

FRANK Yeah. I asked for help. I’m getting it.

Silence.

He walks into the room slowly, stops a few feet from you like he’s testing the gravity.

FRANK (CONT’D) I’ve never let anyone in the way I let you in. It scared the shit out of me.

YOU So you self-destructed.

FRANK Yeah. I’m good at that.

He looks down. Then back up.

FRANK (CONT’D) But I don’t want to lose you. Even if we’re a mess. Especially because we’re a mess.

You stand, heart caught in your throat.

YOU I can’t fix you.

FRANK I don’t want you to. I just... want to be next to you while I try to fix myself.

A pause. Then, quietly—

FRANK (CONT’D) I miss you.

That’s what breaks you.

You cross the space between you in two steps and kiss him—desperate, rough, too full of everything neither of you knows how to say. He kisses you back like it’s the first time and the last time all at once, hands tangling in your hair, your scrubs, anything to hold onto.

You pull back just enough to breathe.

YOU Don’t make me regret this.

FRANK I won’t.

He kisses you again. And this time, it feels like maybe—just maybe—you’re starting over.

#the pitt #the pitt hbo #the pitt imagine #the pitt fanfic #the pitt headcannon #dr frank langdon #dr frank langdon x reader #dr frank langdon fanfic #dr frank langdon imagine #dr langdon x reader #dr langdon fanfic #dr langdon imagine #frank x reader #dr frank x reader

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y0ur-lovrr · 3 months ago

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-Flirting fail??

A/n; decided to write for arisu since he’s so underrated 😓, I did get a little bit of inspo from someone else’s fanfic I read a while back, if I can remember it I’ll tag the person! I will also admit that the ending is a big rushed cause I was falling asleep lol

Pairing; Arisu Ryohei x reader!

—“I could make a bomb out of that, you know.”

You mutter casually with a shrug as you sit with Arisu in an abandoned apartment, watching from the corner of your eye as Arisu stops sipping from his soda can, glancing over at you, seeing how you look slightly proud of your information.

He just stays silent for a second, not sure what to say, glancing down at his soda can before back at you.

“That’s very cool.” He mumbles with an awkward chuckle, not sure what to say-he’s never sat so close to you before, or he so close to you before. So you suddenly bringing that up makes him a bit more nervous.

“I can teach you, you know. I just need a few wires and batteries,” You tell him as you lean closer to him, your breath slightly brushing against the side of his face as you lift your hand to trace the side of his still half full soda can, your other arm reaching behind him to rest on the raggedy table behind him.

“You just have to pop the top off and then—“ snap! The table suddenly snaps and makes a small crash as one of the legs crack underneath it, the sudden loss of stability making you lose the bit of stability you had-crashing right onto Arisu’s shoulder.

You being close was enough-but now that happened, Arisu couldn’t help how red his face was, from trying to not laugh, and also how much closer you were now.

“Uhm…” you huff out as you shift away, fiddling with your thumbs in your lap as you try to gain back your usual ego-of course it had to go that way with your luck.

“Are you okay?” Arisu mumbles with a small chuckle, reaching a hand out to rub your shoulder, trying to not snicker at your flustered reaction. Seeing you like that since you usually weren’t was quite humorous.

“Now that’s just sad…the first time I’ve seen you try to flirt with someone and you end up breaking the table. You’re zero to one—“

A voice suddenly calls out, and you immediately recognize it as the voice as chishiya, his voice calm and teasing, and you could already imagine the Cheshire grin on his face.

“You didn’t see that.” You snap as you turn towards him, trying to ignore Arisu’s face in your peripheral vision, his face growing even more red as he realizes you were flirting with him-or tried to…before you accidentally broke the table.

“I did though. Such a shame Kuina isn’t awake, she would’ve loved to see that.”

He grins, leaning against the door frame, watching you and Arisu with an amused gaze. From right here Arisu can see the similarities between you two, and he knew he was about to witness and sibling squabble, the idea only making him smile to himself more.

“Shut up, you little runt—“ you don’t even finish as you chuck a pillow at chishiya, to which he just dodges it before leaning back on the doorframe.

“Runt? Says the one who failed at basic flirting. Can’t even flirt with someone as easy as Arisu.” He tsks, shaking his head in mock disappointment, not paying attention to Arisu’s slightly caught off guard look at the sudden jab.

Chishiya watches as your eyebrows furrow and your jaw sets, clearly getting more frustrated and embarrassed.

“Eh, c’mon..I’m your big brother, I’m supposed to embarrass you—“ he mocks, getting cut off by you getting up and storming past him and going into a random room-presumably to calm yourself down.

Arisu, still stunned, just continues to sit there-watching as chishiya begins to snicker under his breath, before shaking his head and turning and walking back to where he was before.

Arisu just stares where you once were-you were flirting with him?-you were flirting with him! The person he thought didn’t even realize he existed, he can’t help but feel giddy and he wants to go talk to you and maybe help you calm down. But then the sudden voice of Kuina makes him jump.

“Did they really break the table.?” She mumbled sleepily, clearly still half asleep, making Arisu remember that she was sleeping on one of the couches in the corner of the room. Before he can speak, she speaks up again-her tone carrying a hint of teasing.

“You know…they really can make a bomb out of a can, seen them do it, it’s pretty cool.”

“Thank you, Kuina, for your much needed opinion.” He huffs out sarcastically, setting his soda can down and getting up, her voice speaking from the couch once more as she turns over to face away from him, in the verge of falling back asleep.

“Go get them already..”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

#arisu ryohei #alice in boderland x reader #aib x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #alice in borderland #aib chishiya #ryohei arisu #arisu x reader #fanfic #x reader

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writtenbyan-aries · 5 months ago

Note

WILL YOU MAKE A PART TWO OF THE BABYSITTER X COLBY STORY??

I NEED A PART 2 🤩🤩🤩🤩

Cravings Between Us | Colby Brock

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

Warnings: SMUT18+, CHEATING, dad!Colby, married!Colby, flirting, slight arguing, mentions of wine, kissing, hair pulling, oral (m rec), choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink?, creampie, filth

Word Count: 5.5k | unedited

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

You and Colby stare at each other in the hallway, silently trying to figure out what to do.

Fear washed over you quick, the guilt following soon after.

“Shit. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, “Hide.”

“Where!?” You whisper, panic clinging to your words, “I don’t-“

“Colby?” Vanessa calls from at the bottom of the steps, “Are you awake?”

Colby leans in, whispers quietly, “That’s the spare room, go in there and hide.”

You nod, quickly and quietly moving across the hall to the door Colby pointed at. You glance back as you open it, pointing to your back then pointing to him.

“Fuck.” He mouths, “Right.”

He goes back into the room, closing the door quietly and you slip into the spare, looking around until your eyes land on a closet.

You make your way in, closing the door behind you which fully engulfs you in darkness - and your thoughts.

You slept with a married man.

A man that has kids.

You were disappointed in yourself, but then again, no, no. You shake your head, trying to convince yourself you did the wrong thing, but it just kept feeling so right.

You sat down, your knees pulled to your chest as you quietly take a few deep breathes. Being with Colby felt.. normal, like it was supposed to happen.

If things were good, Colby wouldn’t have ever wanted me, you think as you stare into the darkness, right?

“Here.” Vanessa’s voice is muffled from outside of the door, “Can you take this in while I go for a shower. I freaking spilt my drink all over me on my way home.”

“Yeah.” You hear Colby respond, “I got it.”

This would have never happened if you were smart, y/n, you mentally yell at yourself, stupid, stupid stupid.

You pause, lifting your chin from your knees as you think, why is she home already? She said tomorrow, right? She shouldn’t be back yet. Did something happen?

You close your eyes as you realize you were trying to make Vanessa the bad guy, for all you know work could have been canceled for her.

You sit as still as possible as you hear the sound of the bedroom door opening.

Quiet shuffling, almost like someone is looking for something fills the painful silence.

You hold your breath as the presence moves to right outside of the doors you were hiding behind, turning your head as soon as you heard the handle be pushed down.

“Hey.”

You let out a sigh, turning to look up at colby, “Can I go now?”

He nods, extending his hand out to help you up, “She just got in the shower, so you have some time.” He leads you over to the door, slowly opening it and looking out.

You follow him out, tiptoeing as quietly as you can past the doors and down the steps.

He stops at the sliding glass doors, glancing behind him before he pulls you in for a kiss. Your hands grip his sweatshirt, allowing him to kiss you for as long as he wanted to.

You weren’t sure if this was the last time you’d ever get to be alone with him.

“Keep me posted.” You whisper as soon as he leans away, and he nods, “I will.”

You turn, walking through the open door and you can hear Colby close it behind you. You do a double take at the glasses sitting on the edge of the fireplace and you look back, but Colby is gone.

You grab the glass, dumping the rest of its contents out before you stuff it into your pocket as you quickly move to the gate.

As soon as you get to your house and close your back door behind you, you let out a sigh. You pull the glass from your pocket, staring at it as you remember your time spent with Colby.

Part of you was proud, the other half hated yourself.

You drag yourself to the kitchen, placing the glass in the sink before moving to lay on the couch. You didn’t think you were going to sleep tonight. A part of you was scared there was going to be a pounding on your door with a screaming wife on the other side informing the neighborhood that you are a homewrecker.

You laid in silence, hoping and praying that this would all just be over and Colby, as much as you really didn’t want him to, would just leave again.

You felt guilty for wishing that, you didn’t want to take more time away from his kids. You didn’t want to be selfish, there was no reason for you to be selfish in this situation, it wasn’t right.

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

Your eyes opened, blinking a few times before you pushed yourself up off the couch.

For a split second, you didn’t have any feelings of guilt or anger towards yourself.

The world was quiet, all until there was a knock on your door.

You jump, letting out a sigh as you stand up. You can tell who is is from the shadow through the clouded glass.

You open the door, giving Vanessa a smile, “Hey, good morning.”

“Good morning. I didn’t wake you did I?”

“No.” You shook your head, “I woke up just a few minutes before you knocked. What’s up?”

“I wanted to go over next weeks schedule with you, if that’s okay? I have a few errands to run, so I figured I’d just get this out of the way. Shouldn’t take too long. Do you mind if I..” she motions and you step out of the way, “No, please. I can start coffee if you want?”

She shakes her head, “I’m going to grab one on my way to target.”

“Okay.” You nod, closing the door behind her as she walks on. You take a deep breath and follow her to the kitchen. She pulls out her phone and leans against the counter, “Okay, so Colby has Sam coming in to look at a place close to here on Tuesday.”

“What time is that?” You ask as you pull out your notebook. She looks over her phone, “I’ll need you for eight thirty a.m. I have Pilates at nine and then lunch with the girls that day, so I’ll need you until one of us gets back.”

“Okay.” You nod again, “Nothing on Monday?”

“Nope. I don’t have anything planned for Monday. But Wednesday and Thursday I’ll need you both days, seven a.m. I have a flight to Cincinnati. And then Friday, depending on if Colby holds his deal on not leaving, I most likely won’t need you.”

“Alright.” You jot down the times and look up at her, “Sounds good.”

She stands up, “Perfect. Since I got back home last night, I figured I’d do some shopping for the weekend. I’m probably flying out to San Fran later today, that’s if she didn’t miss her flight. my sister is coming in for a few days.” She laughs, “She misclicked I guess, and the dumb bitch is flying into San Francisco instead of LAX.”

You laugh, “That’s sisters for you.”

“Do you have any? I can’t remember.” She smiles at you and you shake your head, “Nope. Only child. I Left home as soon as possible.”

“Well, you did a good job at making a better life for yourself.” She sighs, “Alright, well I gotta run. I’ll see you.. Tuesday.. right?”

You nod, “Tuesday. Colby is going to be with Sam and you have Pilates and lunch with your friends, and sister I assume.”

“On the ball.” She winks, “Alright. I’ll see you.” As she turns, she stops, “Oh that’s cute.”

You furrow your brows, your heart quickly racing as soon as you see where her attention is resting.

“We have the same glasses over at our house.” She laughs, “But you know that. You’re there all the time.” She smiles at you, “You know, if we ever move. I’m bringing you with us. I love you, the kids love you. You’re the best babysitter we’ve ever hired.”

“Oh.. gosh.” You laugh nervously, “I try my best.”

She nods with a smile and walks to the door, “if you want me to pick up anything for the week while you’re over there, just text me!”

“I will, thank you!”

You watch her leave and you relax, exhaling as you lean on the counter, “Holy fuck.”

The faint sound of your phone vibrating catches your attention, so you walk over to find it. You bite down on your lip as you see Colby’s name on your screen, How are you today?

You tap the screen, I’m okay. How are you?

You look around, pursing your lips as you decide to go up and shower. As you walk into your room, you stop, staring over at your window.

You zone out, memories of how Colby touched you play over and over in your mind. Your phone buzzing in your hand makes you jump slightly, I know it’s insane, but I actually miss you.

You chew on your lip. You missed him too.

Your heart was racing, but you were feeling bold. You walk over to your window, texting Colby as you come to a stop, Come to your window.

You tossed your phone down onto the bed, moving your hands to take off the same sweatshirt you wore last night.

Your eyes are glued to the window of Colby’s room, awaiting his appearance to show through the clear frame.

As soon as you see him, you can’t help but smirk. He smiles at you, shaking his head as he holds up his hand. You wave back, turning around as you lift your shirt up over your body, tossing it to the ground.

You grab your phone and walk to the bathroom, your phone buzzing in your hand, Don’t tease me like that, sweetheart. Come on, I have time.

You shake your head, regret and your neediness for him playing tug of war, Do you really think this is a good idea, Colby? I mean. Your wife came over here today to go over next weeks schedule.

You get an incoming call from Colby and you hesitate for a second before sliding to answer. Before you can even get out a simple, hello, he speaks, “What is the schedule?”

“Um, Tuesday I have to be there by eight thirty, she said you’re going with Sam and she has Pilates and lunch with friends and her sister.”

“Wait? Sister?” He groans, “Fuck, she didn’t tell me Ana was coming.”

“Oh, yeah.” You raise your brows, “She said she’s flying to San Francisco tonight or something to pick her up because she went to the wrong airport or something?”

“So, do I get to see you tonight then, or.. did last nights escapade scare you off?” You hear him chuckle and you sigh, “I don’t know.”

“Oh come on, don’t say that.” He groans, “I just.. wanna kiss you.”

“I think you and I both know that we can’t just, kiss, Colby.” You laugh slightly, “I just.. I don’t know.”

“Think about it. I’ll let you know when she leaves.”

“Okay.” You look at yourself in the mirror, “Um, Hows your back?” Colby laughs, “Still gotta keep a shirt on, but most of them faded.”

It’s like you don’t even have control over your own body, the words just fly out of your mouth, “Guess I’ll need to add some more then, huh?”

You lay your hand over your eyes and hold your breath, god damn it, y/n, you mentally curse yourself, why?

“I mean, I’m not complaining.” Colby sighs, “I gotta go. Vera is awake.”

“Okay.”

“Bye.” He sighs, “Hopefully I’ll see you later.”

“Maybe.” You laugh slightly and hang up, resting the phone against your lips as you close your eyes. You really hated yourself, but at the same time, you felt like there was something more going on.

You got a shower and proceeded to just spend the rest of the day on the couch. You couldn’t focus on anything but Colby. He clouded your mind and there was absolutely no way of getting through the fog.

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

Well, you were right. She just left to go catch a flight to San Francisco, you read over Colby’s text, She never told me until she was packing her carry on.

You frown, Maybe we can just.. talk tonight?

You rolled your eyes at your own message, mainly because you knew as soon as you seen him you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

If that’s okay with you, kids are in bed. I’ll be outback. Come whenever, sweetheart.

You stood up, grabbing your sweater from the back of the couch and walking over to slip your shoes on. A part of you wanted to hesitate going over there, but you never did.

You were out your back door and over in his yard within a minute.

“There she is.” Colby smiles as he stands up, “Welcome back.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk up to him, “Here I am.”

He pats the couch next to him, “Sit. Need a drink?”

You sit down, shaking your head, “No. I’m okay.” He nods and leans back, his arm stretching over the top behind you, “So.”

“So.” You look over at him, “Okay.. I need to know what’s really going on..”

He furrows his brows, taking a sip from his glass, “What do you mean?” You turn towards him, “When I was hiding last night, I was thinking and maybe I was trying to make her out to be the bad guy, but at the same time.. Colby..” you sigh, “If you were really happy with Vanessa, why would you do what you did with me?”

He leans forward to set his glass down, “I don’t have an answer to that right now.”

“Oh.” You nod, “Okay.”

“But what I can answer, is that.. you..” he looks at you, “Are literally a dream.”

Your lips twitch into a smile and you look down, “What we’re doing is-is.. wrong, Colby. If anyone finds out, I’m the homewrecker, I-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off, “You’re not.”

“But I am.” You laugh, trying not to cry, “I-I just.. the last thing I want to do is break up a family, that-“ you shake your head, “Maybe I should just find another job.”

Colby shakes his head, “If you want to stop this, we can. I don’t want you to find another job because this one is perfect for you. You’re perfect for us.”

You stay quiet as he continues, “When you first started, I didn’t look at you in the way I look at you now. I mean, yeah. I thought you were really hot, but over time, seeing how good you are with my kids, I couldn’t help but think about what my life would be like if I had met you first. Done everything with you.. first.”

You slowly look over at him, “what about-“

“Don’t even say her name right now.” He moves closer, “I’m focused on us right now.”

You look from his lips back up to his eyes. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him so bad.

And you did.

You leaned in, closing the space as you slam your lips onto his. His hand flies up to cup your cheek as he instantly deepens the kiss, pulling you over onto his lap to straddle him.

You kiss down his neck and back up to whisper, “I want you so bad.”

“I’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart.” He whispers back as his hands slide down to grip your ass, “Just say the words.”

You grind down onto him, letting out a quiet moan as his cock presses against your clothed clit. You lean back, pressing a kiss to his lips before moving down to the ground in front of him.

You slide your hands up his thighs, slipping your fingers into the waist band of his sweats and pulling them down to free his cock.

You waste no time with leaning forward and taking him into your mouth. A gasp leaves his lips and his head rolls back in a circle, “Fuck.”

You look up at him as your tongue swirls against the tip and his jaw falls slack, “oh my god.” His hips buck and you take more of him in, your nails digging into his thighs as you focus on breathing through your nose.

His hands move to tangle into your hair, holding your head there as he bucks up and down, groaning deeply as he slowly enters your throat.

You gag around him and he groans louder, “That’s it, baby. So good for me.”

After a few more bucks, he pulls you head off, tilting your chin up, “Get up here, I wanna fill that pussy again.”

You push your sweats down, stepping out of them before straddling his lap again.

Thank god for privacy fence, right?

He holds his cock steady as your hands grip his shoulders, slowly sinking down onto him. Your lips part, that same sensation filling your core just like it did last night.

“Oh my god.” You whimper into his ear, “I love how good you feel inside of me.”

“I love being inside of you.” He groans, his hands gripping your hips to slowly move you back and forth.

You turn your head, pressing your lips to his as you quicken your hips. He swallows your moans with ease, keeping his lips pressed to yours to keep them as muffled as possible.

You move to a bounce, your hand sliding down to grip the back of the patio couch while your arm wraps around his neck.

He guides you up and down, the pace is rough, you’re having a hard time trying to stay quiet.

“You close yet, baby?”

You nod, “mhm.” You dig your nails into his neck, “A-almost th-“ you gasp, burying your face into his neck as your walls squeeze around him, “fuck fuck fuck”

“That’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”

He slides down on the couch a bit, adjusting his position so he can thrust upward, guiding you through your high.

He wraps his arms around your waist, laying you down on the couch to continue thrusting. The couch creeks below you, but he didn’t care.

“Fuck, baby.” Colby groans into your neck, “Feels so good.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, “Tell me what you want.”

“I-I want..” you moan, “I want you to cum in my pussy.”

He groans at your words, “I love the sound of that.” He presses his lips to yours, “You are so fucking hot.”

His thrusts grow faster, quickly turning sloppy.

Your lips move in sync as his cock twitches inside of you, a feeling you don’t ever think you’ll get over.

He holds himself there for a second, taking another minus to just gently make out with you before pulling out and sitting up.

He hold his hand out, pulling you up and you stand up, quickly putting your pants back on.

“You were right.” Colby laughs as he fixed himself, “We can’t just talk, or whatever it is you said.”

“I said just one kiss, but.. yeah.” You laugh, “Clearly we can’t just talk either.” You sit back down and freeze as Colby’s phone lights up on the edge of the unlit fireplace.

“Are you-“

“Yeah.” He sighs, “Probably need to.” Colby reaches for his phone and answers, “Hello?”

Colby glances over at you and looks out into the yard, “I mean, yeah. I don’t have an issue with that. I mean, what? It’s only for a day until his aunt gets back home right?”

“Two?” Colby raises his brows, “I mean, yeah. That’s fine.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in a little bit. Love you, too. Mm, bye.”

Hearing Colby say that he loved her was like a knife to the heart, but what else could he do?

“Anastasia’s friend is flying back with them. I guess he’s going to stay with us for two days until his aunt gets back from vacation? I don’t know.”

Your phone vibrates on the seat next to you and you look, “Vanessa just texted me.”

“What did she say?” Colby asks looking at you. You shrug, “Nothing, she just wants to know if I’m free tomorrow night, probably to babysit or some- no. She wants to have a party for her sister coming and apparently I’m invited.”

“Oh, well that’s not bad, right?” Colby shrugs, “Could be worse.”

“Right, I guess.” You stand up, “Should I come?”

“It would be a little weird if you didn’t.” Colby stands up, “I think it’ll be good. We’ll just have to be on our best behavior.”

You laugh slightly, “I’ll probably manage the kids so, no worries.” You motion, “I should probably get home, let you clean up. Oh! I have your glass by the way. I grabbed it on my way home last night so now Vanessa thinks we have the same glasses.”

Colby laughs, “smart thinking.”

He pulls you in for a final kiss, “I will see you tomorrow night.”

“I’ll be here.”

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

You gave yourself one last look in the mirror, your hands smoothing out your dress as you talked yourself up for going.

“You can do this.” You whisper as you stare at yourself in the reflection, “You. Can. Do. This.”

You made your way downstairs. You didn’t want to show up empty handed so you grabbed a bottle of wine from your fridge and headed over.

You knocked on the door and a few seconds later, Colby opens the door. His eyes scan up and down your body as he moves aside, “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” You smile, walking past him. Vanessa gasps when she sees you, pulling a woman who looks similar to her with, “Ana, this is y/n.” She motions to you, “Y/n, this is my sister Ana.”

You greet her with a smile, “Hello. I’m their babysitter, nanny, whatever you want to call it.”

“She’s pretty, Ness. I like her already.” Ana smiles, “oh! And she brought wine. I love her!”

You hand her the bottle and smile, “I didn’t want to come empty handed.”

“That would have been alright.” Vanessa assures, but to you it was more like a silent apology in a way.

“Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes, let me go find Damian. I talked to Ana and she thinks he would love to meet you.” Vanessa winks at you and you laugh slightly, “Oh, gosh. Okay.”

Colby walks up to you as her and Ana walk into the kitchen and he shakes his head, “You’re not-“

“Of course not.” You assure with a nod, “I’m going to go get a glass of that wine, though.” You glance at Colby and head to the kitchen.

Ana hands you a glass and starts asking questions, mainly about where you’re from and what you did before you got lucky enough to babysit.

“The kids are with my mom.” Vanessa says as she walks into the room, “So feel free to drink as much as you want. You’re off duty.” She laughs as she walks over to check the oven.

“I’m not much of a drinker anyway, so one glass would be enough for me most likely.” You laugh slightly at your lie, and Ana nods, “Trust me, you’ll feel that way until you have kids of your own.”

You smile, pretending like your heart didn’t just drop into your stomach, “Right, right.”

“Oh, Colby. Can I see you for a second, please.” Vanessa looks at him and he nods, “Yeah, sure.” He follows her out of the kitchen and even though it’s quiet, you can slightly hear them arguing.

“Can you walk around with a smile? We have company over. It’s not going to kill you to smile, you know.” Vanessa whispers harshly.

“Why can’t you stop fucking nitpicking everything I fucking do? I can’t even walk around right, good fucking god.” Colby angrily whispers back and you turn away, pretending like you weren’t listening in as the kitchen door swings back open.

He walks past you, not even giving you a glance as he walks out.

“Y/n.” Ana says as she taps your shoulder, “This is Damian. He works in the department above mine back home.”

You couldn’t lie, Damian was pretty. He wasn’t Colby level pretty, but he was up there.

“Hi. I’m y/n.” You reach out, extending your hand to meet his. He smiles, “Nice to meet you.”

Colby comes back in, stopping in his tracks as he sees your hand still resting within Damian’s grasp. He looks up at you and walks around to get more to drink.

You drop your hand, bringing your glass up to your lips and tilting it back, “You know, maybe I will have that second glass.”

“Now we’re talking.” Ana laughs, “Allow me.”

She takes your glass and you stand there awkwardly. You could tell Colby didn’t like him touching you, but there wasn’t anything either of you could do about it, you were just being nice.

You had to act like you weren’t in a secret situation with the husband of the wife who is hosting this get together.

“A drink?” Colby asks Damian as he lifts the bottle. The guy in front of you nods, “Yeah, sure. Thanks, Colby.”

Colby nods, glancing at you before looking down to pout the dark liquid into the clear glass. He caps the bottle and walks over, hanging the glass to Damian.

It’s awkward, or at least, for you it is.

“Dinner is done.” Vanessa says as she walks into the kitchen, “Just need to get the tray out of the oven.”

You nod, turning to make your way into the dining room.

You sit down at the table and Colby sits across from you, Vanessa to the right and Damian sits next to you. Ana sits at the end of the table by Vanessa and dinner starts.

Dinner went along smoothly. Everyone spoke to one another, everything seemed rather normal. You managed to keep it together while Colby gave you a few looks every now and then, but he didn’t really up his game until Damian walked up and started hinting towards a date.

“You like coffee right, y/n?”

You laugh slightly, that fourth glass of wine settling in nicely, “I mean, yeah. I like coffee.” You shrug, “Who doesn’t, really? You know.”

You notice Colby, actually, more like felt his stare burning through you from off to the side, “I mean, my schedule with watching the kids is kinda hectic sometimes, so I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“Oh no!” Vanessa walks up, “Please, you just let me know what day this date is and I’ll make sure you have off!”

You laugh nervously, “Oh, um. Okay.”

Colby scoffs, covering it up with clearing his throat, “It’s getting late. I’m going to go pick up the kids.”

“They’re fine with my mom, Colby.” Vanessa looks at him and colby nods, “Fine. Anyone need another drink?”

“Yeah, I’ll take one.” Ana holds out her glass, and Colby looks at you, “What about you?”

You shake your head, “No, I think I’m going to head home here soon.”

“Oh really?” Vanessa pouts, “Why?”

“I think this wine is giving me a headache.” You lie, you were certain that the tension between you and Colby was suffocating you.

“One more drink?” She looks at you and you sigh, smiling as you hand her your glass, “Fine, one more.”

She walks away with Ana and Damian moves to stand up next to you, “I like the color of this dress. It really brings out the color in your eyes.” His eyes scan up and down your dress before taking a drink, “Very pretty.”

“Oh.” You look down at your dress, completely forgetting the color, “Thank you.”

Colby walks back out, his jaw clenching as he watches the man’s hand gently drag over your arm.

You knew you were in for it.

“I thought you were going home?” Colby questions and you shrug, “Vanessa talked me into another drink.”

“Of course she did.” He scoffs, and you turn your attention to the door as it swings open, Vanessa and Ana walking back through laughing.

“Here.” Vanessa hands you the glass and you take it, “Thank you.”

“No, y/n is literally the best babysitter that we’ve ever hired, isn’t that right, Colby?” Vanessa looks at Colby and he nods, “She’s literally the best.”

You felt your heart skip a beat, “I love their kids. They have two of the best kids on the planet.” You smile at Ana and Vanessa laughs, “We’re trying our best.”

She looks at Colby and he nods, “Something like that.”

You could tell Vanessa didn’t like that response, but she played it off like it didn’t matter, “I told her today that if we move, we’re taking her with. No exceptions.”

“I don’t blame you. Caden talks about you all the time when he calls me.” Ana smiles and you pout, “Does he really?”

“All the time.” She laughs, “I’ve been waiting to meet my nephew’s favorite person for ever now.”

You smile, shaking your head, “I’m just glad they both love me, too.” You glance at Colby and his face softens, nodding slowly before walking away.

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

It was almost midnight by the time you got home.

Vanessa and Ana were both drunk by the time you left, and to your surprise, you felt even guiltier because Vanessa seems like a good person.

But your mind was quickly changed when a knock on your door startled you from your slightly tipsy thoughts.

You walked over, furrowing your brows when you don’t see anyone at the front door.

The knock sounds again and you realize that it was coming from the back door.

You walked back, opening it and freezing when you see Colby standing there.

“Hi.” You stare at him, “What-“

He cuts you off with a rough kiss, backing you up into your house as he closes the door behind him, “I need you. I need you so bad, baby.”

“Colby.” You whisper as his lips trail down your neck, “This.. this is risky..”

“I don’t care.” He lifts his head, shaking it as he stares down at you, “I don’t care.” His lips resume their position on yours and he mumbles against them, “I wanted to rip him away from you.”

You look up at Colby, your attention fully on him as he continues, “Seeing him talk to you, look at you..” he sighs, “Touch you..”

Colby’s hands slide down, bunching up your dress, “I wanted to clear the table and fuck you in front of everyone.”

Your breath catches in your throat as your arms wrap around his neck, “I only want you.”

He smiles slightly, nodding as he lifts you up. You press your lips to his as he walk you over to the couch, laying you down.

He reaches up, unbuttoning his top as his eyes stay on yours. You pull your lip between your teeth as you pull your dress up your thighs.

Colby glances down, smirking as he watches your hand slip into your panties.

He pushes his shirt off, moving to undo his belt as your body arches with pleasure from your fingers on your clit.

“That’s it.” He whispers, “Keep going.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you apply more pressure to your circles, quiet moans flooding through your lips.

Colby undresses to his boxers, dropping down to his knees beside you, “Does that feel good?” You nod, letting out a sigh, “Not as good as you, though.”

Colby chuckles, his hand sliding down your body, “We can fix that.”

You pull your hand away, Colby’s quickly jumping into its place. He glides his fingers down, dragging them up and down your achey center before pushing two of his fingers into you slowly.

You gasp, your legs spreading wider as you moan, “Fuck, Colby.”

His lips press to your cheek, “Have you been this wet all night?”

You nod, “I’ve wanted you, too.” You turn your head, lips connecting with his. He swallows your moans, the trusts of his fingers growing faster.

You were whimpering, moaning, body twitching and tensing as his brings you closer and closer.

But that all comes to a sudden stop when there’s a few quick knocks on your door.

“Who is that?” Colby asks, and you shrug, “I don’t- I don’t know.” You look over at him as you sit up, his hand removing itself from your panties.

You stand up, fixing your dress, “my room is upstairs to the left.”

He nods, gathering his clothes as he walks towards the steps. He stops halfway up as you open the door, “Vanessa?”

She shakes her head, sniffling, “I-I’m sorry if I woke you. I know I just seen you, but I just-“ she covers her face and you tilt your head, “What’s going on, Vanessa?”

She looks up, and comes in as you motion, “Are you-“

She cuts you off, “I-I think.. Colby is sleeping with someone else.”

≪ ◦ ❖ ◦ ≫

Thank you so much for reading! I love you all sooooo much! Catch you in the next part! And by next part I mean part three

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

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heli0s-writes · 9 months ago

Text

intricate rituals*

a/n: You know how kids pick on each other but it's actually because they like each other? It's like that. 4.7k words. I don't know why this one was so long. I wrote this as a companion piece to slow hands. warnings: fantasizing & masturbation, language, the usual helios sprinkle of angst because Steve. Please stop reading if you are not 18+

brooklyn after dark masterlist

Judgmental red numbers gleamed from the alarm clock on your beside table. 2:50, it leered like a schoolyard bully, and you could only groan in reply, shoving your pillow over your face and muttering into it a string of unintelligible curse words.

The day stretched too long after you were hit—socked—square in the left orbital. Your skull ached and thrummed, congregating pain at the welt along your brow bone, and beneath all of it, your brain was at once empty and full of insistence.

And although you’d have to be vertical again in about three hours, your nerves were still uneasy, still roiling beneath your skin because adrenaline could be a bitch and a half like that.

You were floating aimlessly in limbo, trying to force-sink into the distance of sleep. Thoughts skated behind the back of your eyes and around your ears, restless fingers twitching beneath blankets. Each time you slipped off, the rug was pulled out beneath your feet and your body jerked awake, leaving your heart racing. Self-sabotage.

You were too tired to attempt a jog, not trusting your sore muscles to maneuver the compound’s wooded perimeter. The best option was the easy route: quick, simple, and only a little offensive. After all, imagination after a certain hour of the night was a dangerous thing but flirting with danger in private was worth it once you could rest after.

Besides, asking Tony for any strange white pill to put you to sleep was perilous at best and fatal at worst, and asking to be gently placed in a sleeper hold by a friend was a one-way ticket to seeing the on-call psychiatrist.

And, anyway, they’d think you were a masochist.

And, well, maybe you were. But that’s not their business.

Maybe you’d like it to be though. Maybe you’d like to see the flutter of interest, the reciprocity, admittance that they were also a little masochistic because who in this line of work isn’t?

Volunteering to get pummeled day in and day out must be diagnosable in the DSM-5 manual. Yeah. At least a few of your teammates are masochistic. You’d bet good money on it.

Bucky, for one. And—oh—wouldn’t his cheekbones look so good bright red? You could cut your palms on those.

Here was the danger with imagination past a certain hour of the night:

Co-ed dormitory style living with a gorgeous cast of characters—all deranged in their own right—but still gorgeous. Lovable despite their many, many flaws. Egregious, maddening flaws.

Some were shared, inhabited by every member like they decided to build homes inside of their neuroses. Martyrdom, obstinacy, the occasional withholding of all worldly pleasures when they thought they deserved deprival—when someone would fuck up unnoticeably on a mission and then self-flagellate inside their mind for days afterwards.

Bucky’s refusal to trust his own instincts sometimes; Tony’s incurable lust for sticking his foot in his mouth like he’s starving for the taste of dirt; Natasha’s quiet, catastrophic need to be useful whether it made her a teammate or an object.

Steve— the basket-case. A whole shitshow marathon of issues all crammed up in his bright blonde head, and it’d get so full it would rush out of him by way of seething rage, reflex reactions, his boot pressed against yours as he’d stare down. His hands curled into boulders, jaw working in slow, powerful movements as clenched and unclenched his teeth.

You couldn’t help but think of it now and again. Imagine him turning all that misplaced anger to good use.

One hand ventured to your thigh, the other crossing over your chest, rubbing up your bicep to your shoulder. There was a knot you couldn’t massage out, that Bucky couldn’t either despite his best efforts. His flesh hand first and then his other hand when he thought a temperature change would help. It whirred by your ear, the plates shifting like bee song.

You could hear yourself hum lightly at the memory. It felt nice—smooth, cool, heavy. The weight of his curled fist as he kneaded, the strength in his fingers he was always holding back, even more so as he worked over the delicate skin near your neck. You didn’t shudder then, but you began to.

He’d probably laugh if you did. Roll his eyes even though he’d be pleased about it.

And excuse you for being like everyone else in the world who’d ever seen Bucky Barnes and his arm in action.

You might just say, shut up, just touch me, and he would. Touch up your neck, thumb propped at the base of your skull, the rest of his fingers around your throat where he’d drum out the beat of an old 40’s song.

And then Steve began emerging from darkness along with a couch, cheek propped on his fist, watching lazily. It was indigo all around him. Just a lamp somewhere in the corner making the side of his pale face warm orange.

Guess three’s not a crowd in your book—

Shut up, Bucky.

His hand was still on your neck, but you’d gotten in his lap, thighs spread until your legs were on the outside of his. He’d lost his shirt and landed on the couch next to Steve, who asked, petulantly, I’m here to watch?

You weren’t sure. You didn’t expect your own half-awake mind trying to reason itself out of a sex fantasy. Not when Bucky was shirtless beneath you, slightly tanned skin displaying a scatter of freckles like the time he ventured to the tropics and came back with a grin lasting almost two weeks.

But Steve was expecting an answer and the critical eyebrow high on his forehead repeated the question: I’m here to watch?

Apropos of nothing except being 85% shut down, you replied with, you hit me today, and fell forward into Bucky’s arms. It was sullen and Bucky snickered, pressing his nose into the dip between your collarbones, a kiss somewhere nearby.

I didn’t mean to, Steve said cooly, still unamused.

Oh yes he did. Bucky touched you again, the webbing between thumb and forefinger beneath your breast for a second before he tweaked a nipple. Your toes curled slightly, chest jolting upward, and Bucky confirmed, masochist.

Steve perched his elbows on knees, leaning forward. One hand reached out, stroked the tapering edge of your eyebrow down to your cheekbone. His face was sweet, pleased, mischief cutting across his features. He pressed his finger down just a fraction, made your bruise sore with it, and the sweetness in his face glinted sharply.

Okay, he said, what else do you want?

He pressed down again and a handful of Steve’s flashed past as you exhaled. All those glimpses of him in various phases of his life, light-speed. There were suspenders and pressed white shirts too large for him. There was short hair and ballcaps and aviators. The way his shoulders hunched as he made himself invisible in a crowd. Captain suits in bright blue, then dark blue, and finally the deep night of the stealth number, material of tough neoprene and dull and sturdy across his chest. His hair was long flipped out at the ends. His beard grew and then shortened in length.

You couldn’t decide what else.

He was standing and then he was sitting. He leaned back on one elbow, sprawled like a Greek statue on a chaise lounge.

He was behind Bucky, arms coming to rest on either side of his neck, hands hanging limply forward, palm up, as if coaxing you closer, pressing Bucky tight in the middle until he huffed with discomfort.

Guess three is a crowd in your book.

Bucky disappeared and Steve came forward until he was flush against you.

In my dress uniform, really?

He sat with his thighs spread, contemplating your choice of Steve. His hair was slicked back, the high collar of his dress shirt starched and cupping his sharp, gorgeous jaw.

He was a garbled assemblage of an old photo in olive-green military wear. His blue eyes sparkled with attentiveness. He looked down his chest at the ribbons you were sure were incorrect, but they approximated something official. The jacket was starched and crisp, slacks well-pressed and fitted nicely.

You liked the idea of him young, hopeful, and—smiling.

He placed his hands on your biceps before moving to your waist, stretching his fingers as far as he could to snare you. The fabric of your white button-up crinkled between your body and his. Three top buttons were undone, your breasts spilling out.

Steve’s hair was a mess, like it’d been yanked at fiercely. His mouth was wet and red and he was pawing at your back, rolling his hips upward until your groins met. His voice was rumbling and stuttery, brows together and cheeks rosy.

He stopped moving, only looking up at you with enormous eyes like a dog waiting for a command— which he’d never, ever looked like before. Panting as he caught his breath, he took a labored gasp, pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and asked.

Ma’am?

Oh. God help you.

There he was in all his glory, one foot into martyrdom and the other still in boyhood. Before everything crashed and burned and he was still clumsy with it. Just a bright, beaming thing pleading for you to notice his light.

He began to fumble, hardly used to his body and so different than how you’ve seen him hurl himself through the air head-fucking-first because he was always ready to die on some hill or another.

He was shy, worrying his gorgeous mouth into a small line as he looked and looked. Over your face, down your neck, your chest, the mismatched set of underclothes you were still dressed in—and he stared at it entranced as if you were some kind of centerfold.

Like he ever would—but your brain was an electrified lump of meat, so dream-Steve could forgive it for irrationality.

But you were still sane enough to feel guilty about it because he was 24, and in a flash of genius engineering, he’d be weary beyond all his days.

Which hurt, which was stupid, which was really killing your whole endeavor.

You couldn’t do it with the thought of him careening into war at 20-something and couldn’t even worse with the thought of him, terrified and alone, the same giant, blue eyes searching the modern world for a sliver of recognition only 7 years later.

So your fingers halted between your legs, letting his nervous, boyish face shimmer away into the back of your mind.

Your eyes opened back up. The clock taunted 3:15, sizzling fuchsia.

You closed your eyes again.

The numbers shifted, rearranged until they were two curved lines and Steve’s mouth was there, hovering over yours, and he’d grown up some—you could see it in the pallid sheen of his skin, the creases in his face that were less from age and more from suffering. He waited, saying nothing.

There was supposed to be a lot you could do here. All manners of debauched acts to imagine— involving rope and whip and raking your nails down his back until your name burned in his throat, his considerable figure reduced to a tremble as he ached for you.

But you couldn’t, because suddenly the agony of not being able to sleep pivoted into a strange, new turn of events. From wanting to touch yourself to wanting nothing more than jumping into a lake to erase the turmoil his big, blue eyes roused in you, you struggled on a little longer, peeking around his haloed head of blonde, faint light behind him like a corona.

No? He drew one eyebrow up toward his hairline, his full pink lips quirking into a smirk. Not doing it for you? Why’s that?

You put a hand over his mouth, but dream logic was in no mood to be silenced, and Steve’s voice crept up in your ears anyway. No matter how much you wanted to shut him down, to push him away, he remained.

The truth, soldier. He tipped his head and looked at you past long, dark lashes. Give it to me straight.

“Couldn’t sleep?” His voice was gravelly.

You rubbed your eyes, wincing. 4 A.M. approached while you were still caught in a loop in bed—drifting, then jerking awake, nauseated with each new scenario.

Finally, it had been enough. You couldn’t force a thing that wouldn’t arrive, and so you trudged to the training room with your water bottle and forgot shoes along the way.

“Just need to get my mind off things,” you replied, and swatted weakly at a punching bag.

Steve was still wrapping his knuckles because he would always have more foresight than you do and watched you from the corner of his eye. You tapped at the leather, jabbing one-two, one-two, until it began to sway marginally wider, the link chain holding the bag rattling like windchimes.

You wished he wasn’t in the gym. You could feel him in the corner of your mind, a presence that sensed you as much as you sensed it, that weighed heavily, waiting.

“You’ll split them open.”

You jumped in surprise and then it only took a few steps before he was in front of you, hand outstretched with the wrap.

“I’m fine,” you protested, but his mouth was a thin straight line that didn’t need to emit any words. He’d just nag until you gave up. Then he’d throw you onto the wrestling mat and call it a lesson.

Maybe you were cranky.

“I can do it myself,” you attempted, but he ignored it steadfastly, focused on pulling your fingers apart.

“Sure, you could.”

You shifted your weight, “You think I’d fuck it up or something.”

“I think you’d do it clumsy. Think it’d be a rush job.”

He secured the loop onto your thumb before tugging it over the back of your wrist. You watched his fingers, wrapped up skillfully, as they turned and twisted around yours. For all his calluses, he was handling you delicately, and it was all too strange.

Sweat beaded along his brow, his pink cheeks from an earlier warm-up were settling the longer he stood still. He wasn’t making eye contact even as you ducked to find his gaze. It felt like part of an apology.

Nothing passed but his breath and yours, both awkwardly out of their regular tempo. You knew why you were being so weird, but couldn’t guess a damn what reason he would have.

Suddenly, he said, “If I pulled my punches in practice, it would skew your perception in the field.”

You deliberated this information, and the way he offered it up. Like he was bringing you a precious relic you’d be grateful to receive. What an honor. The stinging aftermath of his bones against your bones.

“So this,” you tilted your face forward, showing him where his forearm landed this morning and the pulp of your skin that ice, for fifteen minutes after, did nothing for, “This is a favor?”

He frowned, something complicated skittering across his face.

After a minute, which was quite a long time for Steve to meditate when you were obviously baiting him, he said, “It’s a warning. Enemies won’t go easy on you. I can’t either, even if I wanted to. It’s my job to make sure you’re prepared for whatever is coming next. It’s my job to bring you back home.”

“That’s nice—"

He cut you off, firm. “That’s the truth.”

The truth.

You felt it with your entire chest as Steve stood there, attention fixed upon your hand, his own circling your wrist and palm and then between the sensitive webbing of your fingers with diligence.

A lock of hair fell over his forehead, obscured one eye, and when he looked up behind it in wait of your reply with that open, honest expression, you gulped.

The truth, he asked in your dream— that he seemed to be wanting now wordlessly. That you’d been punching down every morning and night because it was so simple, and excruciating.

The truth was, you were stupid for him. And just stupid, in general, because you could never tell him. Because he was Steven Grant Rogers, for fuck’s sake. He was stunning and tortured and you wanted to die sometimes, just looking at him because you didn’t know how else to express it.

Because there wasn’t a world where you could step up to Steve, stare down the magnum opus of his monumental hero’s journey and feel like you could be a contender for a single, sad crumb of his attention.

And yet you could never quite help yourself.

The truth:

Sometimes you’d do it to get his hands on you—to motivate him, to have him spare a single glance your way. Screw up the training exercise just so he’d spend an extra hour beating the drill into you.

Because outside of your private quarters and battered-tired imagination, when would he ever?

Because short of begging him to touch you, when would he ever?

The baiting. The backtalk. Challenging him at every turn. You were a spiraling addict, grabbing any high within your reach.

Hell, you were just as deranged as the rest of them. DSM-5, eat your heart out.

He dropped your hands, finished, and brought his thumb up to your temple where the welt throbbed under his pulse. “There,” he said. Almost silent, almost like you imagined it.

Then between one heartbeat and the next, his lips parted, bottom one pulled in almost imperceptibly— and— fuck, you didn’t understand a damn thing.

You made a noise like a fish out of water and he rubbed the back of his broad neck, craning his sight to the high ceiling. When he turned back down, he was soft at his edges, the tired years on his face placated.

“I know what you’re doing. You don’t think I know?”

You were nearly sure you were still in bed, and the fantasy was turning on its head, coming up absurdist and you were ready, nowpleasegod, to wake up.

“Pickin’ fights in alleyways since I could throw a punch. Why’d you think so?”

You sputtered, because you’re a ham-fisted, sleep-deprived, single-minded moron, “Because you’re a glutton for punishment?”

Steve snorted. “Like you are?”

You could feel the burn of agony twist its way up your neck, the way fact exposes itself when there’s no other cowardly avenue to run down. He watched, his sea-glass eyes stormy and insistent, and the lights of the compound gym were like stage spotlights now, white, and localized.

You found interest in your feet, because you were still missing shoes, and Steve followed the path and saw your toes curled up tight like hiding themselves.

“Jesus,” he huffed with dismay.

“I was tired. Am. Still tired.”

“Go back to sleep.”

“I tried. Why do you think I’m here? Have you ever seen me here?” You swept your arm out toward the abundance of equipment that have not yet been acquainted with even your shadow.

“Now that you mention it,” he replied.

“Not once—my god, Rogers, it’s like you don’t know me at all.”

“Hey,” he said, because you were doing that horrible, compulsive, nervous-tic conflict thing again, and this time he put his hand on your shoulder and it was warm.

Your skin crooned his name.

“What. Are you doing.” Your throat was bone dry.

He stepped closer—not a dream, he was real, he was there, he was breathing your hair and touching your shoulder—and he dipped his head down, in wait.

“Oh,” your mouth decided sentences were beyond its means. “O-oh.”

“That a yes? Or no.” He moved to step away, his serious expression fluttering into embarrassment, and then guilt, and then you were doing an aerobatic move between a hop and a hurdle to reach for his face.

Teeth clicked, and you winced. He didn’t seem to mind, only stabilizing you with one hand on your neck and the other at your hip. His lips were full, hot, like there was a pulse in his mouth that was trying to overcome yours. He towered, not just in height, but—you couldn’t describe it. Your head was swirling, dizzy.

“You haven’t had any water today,” he murmured—and what kind of psycho would say that during a kiss.

“Do you mind?” you grabbed at his hair, “I’m trying to—” You kissed him some more, your brain a fluttering, ecstatic mess. You shivered when he licked your tongue, fisted his collar when he made a huff—a moan—and then he was gone, a faint hiss between his teeth and his eyes burning darkly.

You wanted to fall down to the gym floor, take him tumbling with you, hands impatient and wild as you felt for each other. Up t-shirts and down waistbands, tongues sloppy and missing each other, leaving lines of spit along chins and necks.

It felt silly—stupid, reckless, fantastic—but it was damn good. Like two kids figuring out their bodies for the first time. So natural and luxurious that you could literally fall forward into him, let him do everything. Strip you naked in the damn gym, fold you in half atop some mats, over a bench, leave marks down your spine and up your throat. Curl himself so deep you could feel him in your mind for days after—you wanted it all.

He was laughing a little bit, the creases of his eyes lit with joy as he weaved left and right, getting all the right angles to mouth at you with. He pawed and squeezed and sighed as he touched you, feeling every inch. He was excited, and it kind of killed you to know—made your belly swelter and clench with pride.

You rolled your hips lazily into his, and he backed up until he found a bench to sit down on, pulling you by the hand, the wrap yanking open and unspooling onto the floor.

“This okay?” He asked.

You made a low, pained sound.

“Hey,” he said, and you blinked at how concerned he was. He steadied your shoulders, his long fingers comforting and heavy. “You okay?”

You yawned, and when you looked at him again, he was confused. And he was standing.

You couldn’t keep up. You looked down dumbly at your empty hands. He was just there.

Oh, gods.

Steve was standing—at the punching bag, not sitting on a bench with you between his thighs. And the wrap that had unspooled from your left hand was limply hanging from your right, the necessary supplies in a bag next to your foot.

You went ice cold.

You wobbled and caught yourself, because you were standing in the middle of the gym idly, realizing that you’d spent the last 10 minutes losing yourself in a fever dream about Steve.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” you said too quickly, recoiling when he side-stepped from his position to head toward you. Your knees trembled, the place between your thighs warm and clenching madly on nothing.

“You don’t look okay.”

“You’re… worried about me?”

Steve narrowed his eyes and said “yes”, like you were stupid. But then he breathed soft, and looked so much like that fantasy you’d conjured up a few seconds ago, that you turned and made ready to bolt.

He caught your wrist.

“I need to—” he began firmly. “You need to listen--”

But you didn’t. You licked your lips because he was so close and you were insane with want for him, and he stopped dead in his tracks for a split second, eyes tracking your mouth and the short, puffs of air that your chest was pushing out without you meaning it to. Just quick huffs as you bit down on your lip to make yourself quiet and small and unseen.

Steve swallowed. He said something almost silent and it sounded like sorry before he leaned forward and caught your mouth with his.

He sighed into it. Breathed into it. He placed one hand on the small of your back and pressed your entire body to him, and you moaned like he tore it out of you.

And this time, it was real. The two of you scrambled for each other, heaving and loud.

He took you to the floor, only took another few impatient, hotheaded licks of his tongue and then he was inside of your shirt, his mouth sucking round, wet brands up between your breasts.

You bucked up to get closer, and he sank down, licking and sucking and all ten of his fingers dug into your hips and waist.

“Shit,” he said.

“Uggnnn,” you replied eloquently before your better judgement pivoted and decided to swipe at reason. “What’s—“

“You make me fucking crazy.” Steve rushed out.

“Fair,” you gasped when he began rolling his hips against yours. “Feeling’s mutual—oh, what are you doing--”

He only answered with more of it, and harder, up and down, his forehead pressed to yours—his entire body, really, pressed like he wanted to swallow you whole.

It went on for eternity, it felt like, the two of you messy and starved, every second of contact a half-fight, half-resignation. Between the rushing blood in your head and the high-pitched ringing of excitement, there was a relief, like your skin was singing finally, oh god, finally.

Steve, above you, was smiling—was happy—almost as if he felt the same.

“Next time just say something,” you said, when you could finally breathe again.

“Like what?” He wiped his forehead. You did that to him.

You sputtered, the taste of his tongue still in your mouth, “Like—just don’t hit me so hard. And don’t say you have to.”

He opted to say nothing instead, only rolling his eyes, and you found the perfect opportunity to continue pestering. “Do you ever pull your punches? Could you maybe try?”

He only grinned with that wet, red mouth, and his eyes flicked down to you like a challenge. “I hold myself back more often than you think.”

“Name one time you held back from anything.”

His lips pressed together, a smile squirting out of the corners as he looked at his bare feet, toes flexed against the mat. His lashes were fluttering as he pondered, looking so shy and mischievous all at once.

“Just now.”

“Now?”

Beneath your collarbone, the bruise Steve sucked into your skin stung with embarrassment. The sound you made when he did it should be burned out from all memory. You had to beg him to stop, you could have cried.

“I had it all wrong. I thought you might have liked getting bossed around in bed, but you’re a sadist, Rogers.”

“No, no. You can boss me around.” He paused, “Maybe. You can try, go ahead.”

“Now?”

“Yeah, try.” And if you were to look up the definition of shit-eating, annoying, and contrary-bastard-even-more-so-than-yourself, you’d find his smug as sin picture.

“I need to go to sleep— team captain, my ass. Don’t you care about my well-being, Rogers? What even is your refractory period?”

“Don’t have one.”

Your brain was a watery 7-11 slushie, and instead of saying anything comprehensible back, you only babbled.

Just then, the gym doors slid open and both of you were on your feet like someone had been shooting them.

Natasha looked you up and down. From the crumpled bedclothes to the unruly hair and then to your mouth, which was slightly open and catching your breath. She narrowed her eyes, glanced over to where Steve stood leaned on the wall, shuffling his feet in an attempt to sort out his sweatpants.

She made to remark something else but then Bucky sidled up wearing nothing but basketball shorts and grey socks.

“It’s ass o’clock,” he complained loudly. “Why are any of you awake. Never mind, Steve you’re a degenerate. You wake up at 4. I was having a great dream, then Nat drags me up, then you’re already here? You fucking animals.”

“Hm, a dream?” Nat drawled, “Anyone I know?”

She flicked his chin already knowing entirely too fucking much.

“Can’t remember the details,” Bucky turned to you offhandedly before recognition lit in his eyes. “Oh,” he chirped, leering. “I remember now.” He wolf whistled, muttered, “Hello nurse,” and rubbed his palms together like he was warming them up.

You backed up, covering as much of your body as possible with two hands, and bumped your ass into Steve, dick-first, who cleared his throat loudly.

Nat only cackled.

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #reader insert #marvel fanfiction

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sashaisready · 2 months ago

Text

Feel The Burn: Chapter 8

Lance Tucker x Reader | Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Series Masterlist

Your casual situationship with notorious flirt Lance Tucker comes to a shocking head at a party, fortunately the mysterious stranger you meet that same night is more than happy to help take your mind off it.

Wordcount: approx. 3k

(Warnings: a lil bit spicy but not much)]

It's meeee. Back at it again. Sorry for the cliffhanger I left you on (not too sorry, I'll do it again). Hope you enjoy this next instalment! As always, engagement with this story means so much as I know they're not the most popular characters (compared to Bucky etc). I love reading your comments/reactions! Thankyooo!

Normally in this situation (well, not this one exactly – this was new…) you’d stay awake most of the night, obsessively replaying what happened over and over in your head as you painfully analysed every detail to try and figure out what went wrong. But you’re so exhausted…you can barely keep your eyes open. Chris really wore you out (and himself, apparently…)

You had flicked the light off in an attempt to settle down, and maybe to help you hide in your embarrassment. Your bedroom is dark, but not pitch-black, as the light of the moon trickles in through your blinds. Your landlord is too cheap for black-out curtains.

You glance over at him as he sleeps, half of his face is pressed into the pillow and the other visible in the shadows. He looks so tough out there in the world, but he looks almost angelic like this. His mouth is curled into a near-pout, his hair fluffy and tousled. Still and sweet, and you’d never noticed how long his eyelashes were before.

You try and figure out what had just happened. Did you bore him? Not give him the reaction he wanted? Were you really so dull that your orgasm had put him to sleep?

Surely not.

Right?

You hadn’t ever been in this situation before. Although you were hardly a master of the Kama Sutra, you’d never had any complaints in the bedroom in the past. Hell, you could keep up with Lance Tucker for god’s sake. A man whose limberness defied belief. Sure…Maybe you could stand to be more adventurous, more free-spirited, but you’d never put a man to sleep after fooling around with him.

As if sensing that he has an audience, Chris’ arm unfurls and reaches for you – pulling you into him. His grip is tight as he tugs you close and you stifle a surprised yelp as he aligns his body with yours. He’s warm, the heat radiates off him as he settles you against his torso, his nose buried in your hair. His bare skin presses into yours, his breathing heavy in your ear. Despite his sudden movement, he appears to be out for the count. He sleeps like the dead.

Something about the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, it’s lulling you away from your neuroses. Your eyelids feel heavy, and you find yourself slipping under, your muscles slackening as your lashes flutter. The bad feeling doesn’t go away entirely but it takes a backseat to your body’s comfort, and you have to admit that despite everything it feels nice being here with him like this. You had missed the intimacy of sharing a bed, your body entwined with another.

You don’t fight it as you drift off to sleep, welcoming the solace of the void.

🏍️

You stay down right through the night, almost unheard of when it comes to your famously light sleeping. You chalk it up to the soothing figure resting just a few inches from you. Something about having his body in close proximity to yours. You’re woken by a small sensation on your cheek as you slowly come to.

“Mmm?” you croak sleepily as you adjust to the light of day, the sun flowing in through the window. Your eyes flutter open as your mind and body wake up, stirring in the sheets.

Chris looks down at you, smiling dopily. He’s tracing your jawline and cheek with his fingers. That would be what woke you, then. It’s not unwelcomed. You smile back blearily as you look up at him. His face is framed by the morning sunlight, shards of gold lighting up the sides of his buzzed hair like a halo. You can’t help but gaze at his bare chest, the muscled arch of his arm as he leans over from his side of the bed. He’s like a painting you can’t stop staring at.

“Hey,” he says softly as he brushes a strand of your hair away from your face. His voice is gruff and croaky, like he’s been sleeping for several days rather than several hours. He presses his hand onto his forehead for a second as he winces. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh,” you nod as you stifle a yawn and stretch your arms, “how about you?”

“Good, good. Maybe too good…” he trails off as a look of concern takes over his face, he rubs at his eye and then the side of his head. “Did…did I pass out last night?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the question. In your sleepy haze you’d almost forgotten the end of the night before. You didn’t really expect him to address the elephant in the room so directly (and so quickly) – but you’re glad he has. In the short time you’d known him, it was clear that Chris thrived on being direct and open. It was one of the many reasons you liked him.

“Yeah…you kinda did,” you laugh awkwardly, suddenly wide awake. “After I…y’know…” you shrug, doing your best to appear casual rather than vulnerable.

He groans, a low rumble in his chest as he closes his eyes. “God…I’m so sorry, princess,” his tone is earnest, embarrassed. “That was out of line…I hope you can forgive me”.

You shrug again, your finger tracing the edge of the sheet as you look away, your cheeks burning. “It’s cool. If I was boring…or something…”

He moves quickly, cupping your chin in your hands as he turns your face to look at him. His grip is firm but not hard.

“Hey, look at me…” he commands.

Your peer up at him shyly, he looks down at you solemnly as he speaks.

“No. Absolutely not. I never, ever want you to think that. Ever. This was all me. I’ve been working late nights at the garage, and I had a few glasses of wine. I was just exhausted, is all. I know it sounds like a cliché, but that’s never happened to me before. Maybe I was also just a little too excited to finally be here with you, and it wore me out. You’re beautiful, perfect. It was a fuck-up on my part, do not think for one second that it’s a reflection of you in any way. You hear me?”

He looks at you with such intensity, his tone so heartfelt, that despite the niggling voice at the back of your mind, you find yourself nodding in his hold as you lose yourself in his cerulean blues. Part of you still thinks it was a strange time to fall asleep, even if he was dog-tired, but you know drink and fatigue can be an intense combination.

“Alright, I believe you,” you smile. “You’re forgiven. Just this once…”

He grins, “thanks, gorgeous. You’re very kind to an old man…”

“Oh Chris, you’re not old!” you giggle.

“Old enough to fall asleep on the job, apparently…”

You laugh harder at that, and he catches you off guard with a kiss, his hand still cupping your chin but now using it to leverage your face to his. You moan softly in response as you return the kiss and relax in his hold, utterly relieved that the tension is eased, and you can just be the two of you again in your little bubble. Surely it was just a blip, a mishap. We’re all human and we all make mistakes, don’t we?

Chris pulls away and caresses your face again, his calloused hands sending a shiver down your spine.

“All I want, more than anything, is to stay here with you and make it up to you,” he practically growls as he nips at your neck, “but I gotta get to the shop. Got a few difficult customers coming by today, I’m opening the place up especially to get their shit done,” he sighs into your skin.

“Stay…” you pout, leaning into him and nuzzling your nose into his hair. “Tell them their cars can be fixed on Monday…”

“I wish I could…” he sighs as he sits up, moving to collect his clothes from the floor. You admire his silhouette as the sun hits his skin. “Trust me. I’m tempted to just not open up at all, I’d happily risk bankruptcy for a morning with you…” he winks as he dresses quickly.

“Well, don’t do that…” you chuckle. “Why don’t you just stay a teeny bit longer?” you ask sultrily, patting the sheet next to you suggestively. “I can be be quick…”

He grins devilishly and laughs. Pressing both of his palms onto the bed, he leans over to kiss you again. “Look…as tempting as that is, and fuck…it is tempting…I promise I’ll make it up to you properly. But I’m in no hurry, I wanna take my time and not rush anything with you. Do this right. Thorough. Alright?”

His voice is still gravelly and hoarse, which strikes you because it doesn’t seem to be getting better. Is he sick?

You sigh dramatically but reluctantly nod in agreement. “Fine…if you insist”.

He smirks and suddenly his hand is under the sheet, between your legs before your brain can catch up. You gasp as his fingers skilfully brush against your folds, a teasing finger on your clit. You’re still wet from the night before, so your body doesn’t resist as he slides inside. He’s deft with it, effortless. He knows exactly how to touch you; he plays his instrument perfectly.

You squeak as a wave of pleasure runs through you, but it vanishes as quickly as it arrives - Chris withdraws and takes a step back. You look up at him wide-eyed, mouth agape in betrayal.

“Chris!” you protest, your voice more whining than you’d anticipated.

“I’m sorry, princess, like I said, I’ll make it up to you…” There’s that grin again.

You pout and he suddenly sticks his finger his mouth, sucking the remnants of your slick off himself. You clench up, the gesture setting off fire alarms in your brain as you feel the heat from this salacious act.

“You’re a menace,” you hiss angrily. “A tease”.

“Consider it a preview. I’ll be seeing you, princess,” he smiles and kisses your cheek. “And don’t go anywhere, I’m ordering you a breakfast delivery”.

He pulls out his phone and wiggles it at you as he heads to the door, as if proving his word.

You roll your eyes and wave him out, “good luck with the shitty customers”.

He nods and shoots you one final smile before disappearing out of the room.

You sigh and smile as you shake your head, snuggling contentedly back down in the sheets and waiting for your breakfast.

Amongst your bliss you feel a tiny singe of unnameable doubt. You snuff it out quickly, cutting off the oxygen and smothering any potential flames before they can burn.

🏍️

“I’ve got protein bars, everyone, in case anyone gets hungry,” Matt calls out to the group.

“What a nerd,” Kat laughs as she trots behind him.

“None for you, in that case,” he shakes his head and continues forward. “No wait…that’s too mean, you can have half of one”.

Kat giggles and wraps her arms around his waist from behind, grinning into his back. He smiles and grabs her hand. “You’re a nightmare, Kathryn,” he teases as he kisses her.

You smile at your friends; their natural intimacy warms your heart – even if you do feel a teeny pang of jealousy at their bond and ease with each other. Maybe that could be you and Chris one day.

“Gross,” exclaims a derisive voice from next to you. “Get a room”.

“Tuck, shut up…” you roll your eyes.

“I’m just trying to enjoy the gorgeous natural scenery of this hike, I don’t need to witness a tonguing,” Lance shrugs, gesturing to the landscape. A few of the others titter in response.

“It was hardly a…” you sigh and trail off. Pick your battles.

“Ignore him, sweetie. You gotta starve him of oxygen to kill him.” Kat scowls over at Lance. “You’re lucky you’re even here by the way, so don’t push it”.

“Cupcake doesn’t mind that I’m here. She’s glad I am, actually. Right, Cupcake?”

“Couldn’t give less of a shit,” you hum as you fiddle with your water bottle.

He gestures to you, enjoying his audience. “See that? Delighted”.

You scowl at him through narrowed eyes, but he merely grins back at you.

The truth is you don’t really mind that he’s here. After the events of trivia night, you feel nonplussed about his presence rather than it causing an emotional spiral. Your rage towards him had mellowed into ambivalence, because you now understand that he doesn’t deserve your emotional energy. Living well is the best revenge, as they say. Why prioritise your emotions for someone who didn’t prioritise yours? Besides, you have Chris now. Who cares if Lance hangs out with your friends sometimes? What happened was in the past now, and grudges took more effort to maintain than neutrality.

Kat had been upfront about it when she invited you along on the hike, Matt had already asked him about the best trails as Lance had some experience in that area as part of his fitness training. Hikes weren’t really your thing, but you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed being outside in nature – and maybe doing something different would be fun. And it was, being here with your friends, looking at the trees and clear sky – it felt good for your soul. Even if Lance Tucker was there too. You had decided that you couldn’t let anything, or anyone, get in the way of you living and enjoying your life, and Lance wasn’t going anywhere, so why fight it?

“Asshole…” you sigh.

…didn’t mean you had to play nice, though.

The hike continued, you chatted and giggled with your friends as the morning went on and you followed the trail. It was nice. The sun on your face, the breeze in your hair, clean air in your lungs – you hadn’t realised how much you’d needed this.

Lance was being Lance, cracking jokes and criticising people’s walking form. All normal Lance Tucker stuff. But it was fine, he wasn’t putting a dampener on your day. If anything, it was nice for the two of you to interact like normal people for a change, apart from the occasional barb. Maybe there were one or two squabbles which the others had to break up, one involving a spat over the name of a type of tree – but that was a pretty low number for you both.

You thought of Chris often as you walked. You’d exchanged a few messages before you’d set off but now there were no signal bars on your phone as you’d moved further down the trail. You still had a tiny, niggling concern about what had happened in bed the other night, but you knew that was probably just your anxiety talking. You smiled to yourself as you thought of him, how excited you were to progress your relationship.

It seemed to happen so slowly that you barely registered when it did. Over time the group thinned out from large clumps bunched together into a longer, thinner line. People had started to split off into twos and threes as different walking paces became established, some very far out in front and others dragging all the way behind. You were with Kat and Matt; Lance was in a group somewhere behind you; you think he was, anyway, sometimes you could hear a slight echo of his bellowing voice, but it could’ve been coming from any direction.

A short distance in front of you, a distinctive bird cry echoed through the trees.

“Is that…” Matt gasped and clutched the open page of his birdwatching guide as he looked towards the sky. “Oh wow! I think it is!”

He shot off in front of you to follow the sound as you and Kat were left in his wake, exchanging knowing smiles. He quickly disappeared up the path.

“He’s so excited,” she laughed.

“I think it’s cute!” you grinned back. “I love when people are genuinely passionate about stuff”.

“Mm..Don’t encourage him,” she chuckled warmly. “So, enough about Matt and his bird buds - What’s the latest with Chris?”

“It’s…good. Really good…” you replied.

“Oh yeah, from the smile on your face it sure seems like it!”

You grinned wider, unable to mask your joy. But then that same niggle hit you again out of nowhere. Your smile faltered just for a second.

“What is it?” asked Kat, immediately picking up on a sniff of hesitation. Your best friend knew you far too well. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s just…oh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry…” you shrugged, taking a sip from your water bottle.

But Kat was unconvinced. She stopped suddenly, turned to you and took your hand in hers. “Babe…what is it? You can talk to me, you know that.” She looked at you kindly, warmth in her big brown eyes. She was right, you could talk to her. And maybe it would be a good thing to open up, she could potentially help to exorcise whatever ghost was hanging around and giving you doubts.

And so, as you stood out on the trail with your best friend, you told her all of it. About that night, about what Chris had done, the terrible timing of the moment when he suddenly passed out. What he’d told you about his late nights, the glasses of wine. Kat listened intently to every word. She never looked scandalised or shocked, her expression thoughtful rather than judging.

“Well, I see why you’d be concern-”

“He did what?” called out the voice behind you, cutting her off.

You both gasped in surprise as Lance stepped closer towards you, seemingly appearing from nowhere. His eyes narrowed in disbelief and his lip curled into a sneer. He shook his head, scoffing out an incredulous laugh.

Great. Just what you needed.

🥇

#lance tucker #lance tucker x reader #lance tucker x you #chris!destroyer #chris!destroyer x reader #destroyer chris #feel the burn fic

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mintyys-blog · 3 months ago

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pietro maximoff x peppers niece! reader:

WARNINGS: implied sex

Pepper always said you were stubborn. It was a trait you’d inherited from your mom—Pepper’s older sister—and one that often worked against you, particularly when it came to Tony Stark.

From the moment you moved into the Stark Tower after your parents’ passing, you and Tony were at odds. He wasn’t cruel or dismissive, just… Tony. The sarcasm, the ego, the constant need to be the center of attention—it grated on you.

Pepper, ever the peacemaker, would gently remind you, “He means well. He just doesn’t know how to show it sometimes.”

But you weren’t buying it. To you, Tony was a billionaire playboy who coasted on his genius and charm, never really trying to understand the people around him. And no amount of extravagant gestures or attempts to bond over tech (something you couldn’t care less about) could change that.

Tony, to his credit, tried. He’d offered to teach you how to drive in one of his sports cars (you declined). He built a state-of-the-art gaming setup in your room (you barely touched it). He even tried to recruit you as his intern, claiming it would be “a great bonding experience.”

You shut him down every time, which only seemed to amuse him.

Things got more interesting when the Maximoff twins joined the Avengers.

Pietro Maximoff was everything Tony Stark wasn’t: carefree, unfiltered, and irresistibly charming. His cocky grin should’ve annoyed you, but instead, it made your heart race.

Tony’s disdain for Pietro was well-documented. He didn’t trust him, didn’t like his attitude, and constantly referred to him as “Quicksnark.” So, naturally, you gravitated toward Pietro like a moth to a flame.

At first, it started with innocent flirting. A lingering glance here, a teasing comment there. Pietro, ever the showman, was quick to play along.

“Careful, printessa,” he said one afternoon, leaning against the kitchen counter as you rummaged for snacks. “Staring at me too long might make Stark’s head explode.”

You smirked. “Good. It’s what he deserves.”

Pietro laughed, a sound that sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

The more time you spent together, the more you realized it wasn’t just about getting under Tony’s skin. Pietro was funny, attentive, and surprisingly sweet when he wanted to be. He listened when you talked about your family, made you laugh when you were feeling down, and always seemed to show up at just the right moment.

Before you knew it, the flirting turned into something real.

You didn’t try to hide your relationship, but you weren’t exactly flaunting it either. You knew it would only add fuel to Tony’s fire, and Pepper, ever the voice of reason, had gently advised you to “take things slow.”

But sneaking around had its perks. Pietro loved testing the limits of his speed, whisking you away to secluded spots in the city for impromptu dates. There was something thrilling about being with someone who could take you anywhere in the blink of an eye.

The real trouble started when Pietro began sneaking into your room at the compound.

It was a quiet Saturday morning. You were tangled in your sheets, half-asleep, with Pietro’s arm draped lazily across your waist.

The sound of your door opening jolted you awake.

“Hey, I—oh my God!”

Pepper’s voice pierced the air, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. Behind her, Tony stood frozen, his wide eyes darting between you and Pietro.

Pietro groaned, burying his face in your pillow. “Really? Stark doesn’t knock?”

You scrambled to sit up, clutching the blanket to your chest. “What are you two doing in here?!”

“What are we doing here?” Tony’s voice rose, his face turning red. “What are you doing here? With him?”

“Tony,” Pepper started, but he ignored her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Maximoff? Really? Out of all the people in the world—no, the galaxy—you pick him?”

Pietro sat up, smirking. “Jealous, Stark? You’re not my type, but I’m flattered.”

“Don’t,” you warned, glaring at Pietro.

Tony threw up his hands. “This is insane! I can’t even—Pepper, say something!”

Pepper sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Tony, maybe we should give them some privacy.”

“Privacy? She’s—he’s—this is my tower!”

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at Tony. “It’s Pepper’s tower, and I don’t see why it’s any of your business who I date.”

“Because I care about you!” Tony snapped. The room fell silent. He looked away, running a hand through his hair. “Believe it or not, I’m just trying to look out for you.”

Your expression softened, but only slightly. “I don’t need you to look out for me. I can make my own decisions.”

Pietro slipped out of bed, standing beside you. “And for the record, Stark, I care about her too. More than you know.”

Tony glared at him but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and stormed out, muttering something about needing a drink.

Pepper stayed behind, offering you an apologetic smile. “I’ll talk to him. Just… be careful, okay?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. “Thanks, Aunt Pep.”

Tony avoided you for the rest of the day, but that night, he found you in the common room, fiddling with one of his gadgets.

“Look,” he started, sitting down across from you. “I’m not thrilled about this. But if you’re happy… I’ll deal with it.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s as close to approval as I’m gonna get, huh?”

He smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you and Tony shared a small, genuine smile. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to change.

And as long as you had Pietro by your side, you knew you could handle whatever came next.

#avengers #x reader #reader insert #the avengers #x female reader #x you #pietro maximoff x reader #x pietro maximoff #wanda maximoff #tony stark #pepper Potts

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kitsuneplushie · 11 months ago

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LOST IN A ROOM

“boy, what did I tell you? love makes you a dead fool.”

— #RAFAYEL: LOVE AND DEEP SPACE

— PAIRING, GENRE, WARNINGS: rafayel x gnc!reader, mainly fluff, with a bit of flirting and banter, implied nsfw things but nothing specifically stated, no warnings!!

— SYNOPSIS: after a work trip, you return to a pouty and dramatic rafayel. you attempt to make up for your absence by surprising him with a sudden visit. but end up… having a different way of catching up.

— WRITER’S NOTE: long time, no post. hiii besties, i found this in my google doc’s and decided to finish it. i haven’t been too inspired to write lately so my bad. i stole the title from a song by rome hero foxes. uhhmmm not proofread per usual. enjoy and take care of yourself, mwah mwah ♡

It had been a while since you were able to go to Rafayel’s studio. It wasn’t intentional, it had just been a busy week. A week that was quickly reaching two and he wasn’t shy to remind you almost constantly.

“Aren’t you my bodyguard? You’re supposed to be checking up on me too.”

You rolled your eyes, hearing his voice vacant your head again. To make up for your absence, you decided to surprise him with a visit. You quietly opened the door, trying your best to sneak through. It was hard to do since it was so silent, the only sound being a soft flutter of a curtain from an opened window. You searched each room, anticipating Rafayel, but was met with disappointment. It wasn’t until you reached his living room where you saw him. He was laid out on his couch, his breath slow and calm. You walked closer, making sure you stayed silent. Your hands hovered over him before caressing his face with your finger tips.

“Hm… you’re cute even when you’re sleeping.” You scoffed, brushing your hand down his face. You moved a stray hair from his face, taking another second just gazing at him. “I’ll let you get your rest.”

You let out a soft breath, going to turn towards the door. You didn’t even make it a step further before, Rafayel quickly grabs your wrist, pulling you back into the couch causing you to fall into his arms. He wraps them around you before gently placing his head into the crook of your neck.

“Y-You were awake?” You gasped, flipping your head towards him. His eyes were still closed, with the same calm expression as before.

“Mm... no need to be so loud.” He grumbled, pulling you even closer. You were basically just his plushie at this point. “Surprised you even remembered that I’m alive.” His eyes remained closed but now accompanied by a pout. Your hands moved towards his, now realizing they were placed on your waist.

“Rafayel… I was busy. I did tell you this time. And I came here to surprise you. Surely that counts for something.” You softly sighed, brushing your thumb across his hand.

“Hmph.” He continued to pout. “What are you going to do to make it up for me?”

“Was coming over not enough?”

“Not at all.” He whined, finally opening his eyes. “That’s your duty, a long awaited one at that.” You shake your head and let out a small laugh.

“Fine. What can I do to make it up to you then?”

“Prove that you're sorry.”

“And how do I do that? I already apologized to you.”

Rafayel huffed, before slightly shrugging. “That’s for you to figure out. It wouldn’t be genuine if I told you what to do, now would it?”

You stayed there in silence for a moment, contemplating on what to do. You managed to turn around to face him. Rafayel made a face at you but continued to look at you curiously.

“You’re such a baby, you know?” You laughed, reaching towards his face. You slowly leaned in to kiss him, but instead placing it on his cheek.

“Now you’re just mocking me.”

“You’re so dramatic, Raf. Do you want a kiss that badly?” You teased, half joking. He suddenly pulled you even closer. You were almost on top of him at this point. Your leg rested on the top of his thigh.

“I do. Is that so wrong?” He asked, sliding his hand underneath your chin to the back of your neck. Your words were caught in your throat, unaware of this side of him. “Can I kiss you, Miss bodyguard?”

Your words continued to be stuck, only able to nod continuously. Rafayel slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. You melted against his softness and the warmth coming from him. You came to after a second wrapping an arm around his neck. You were hungry for more. His kiss was too addicting, you would have gotten mad if you could think straight. The soft kiss evolved into desperation and need. You softly bit his lip, in hopes that he’d slightly part them. And he did. He knew your body language all too well just from the encounters with wanderers.

“Now who’s so dramatic?” He chuckled, pulling away. You pout, looking up at him. “Come on, don’t you wanna tell me about your trip?” Rafayel smirked, sitting up straight. Your brows slightly furrowed. You’d forgot how cocky he could act.

“That can wait… stop acting so unaffected. I can see how flushed your face is! We have… catching up to do.” You muttered, pulling him back towards you. He returned without a second thought. Chuckling on his way down seeing your sudden switch.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel #rafayel x reader #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel lads #lads rafayel #lads x reader #lnd rafayel #lnd x reader #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace oneshot #lads rafayel oneshot #divider by cafekitsune

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haroldthehuckleberry · 1 year ago

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Step-Son MPreg

CW- mpreg, sex, language, Step-Son X Step-Dad storyline

I always fancied my step-dad since i met him i thought he was hot, hes a classic himbo, hes tall, muscly, blonde and stupid as can be.

I never knew if he was purposefully flirting with me of was just too stupid to understand it was wrong, but it being wrong made me so horny, id often wank off after he’d compare our hand sizes, snuggle up to me or even bend over to empty the dishwasher, anything and everything he did turned me on so hard! he always wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination, short-shorts, crop-tops or no tops! My actual dad loved this about him and it made me so jealous seeing them cuddle and kiss and then one day… my dad went on a business trip. it was now or never.

i came downstairs in my dressing-gown and boxers showing off my abs and mediocre pecs i walked into the living room to my step-dad half asleep on the couch only in his briefs and white running socks, sweating and scratching his perfect body when he saw me he woke up a little and pushed a finger into his underwear suggestively “oh… hey man” he said in a gruff half awake voice “h-hey” i stammered taken aback by how horny he already seemed my cock visibly swelled in my already tight boxers. he glanced down to it quickly and blushed “come here pal i have something to show you” he said gesturing for me to walk over- i follow his orders and sit next to him, he places his hand on the back of my head and pulls me in for a deep long kiss. i rest my hand on his groin and feel his cock twitch and harden through his pants i then slowly kiss his neck, then his chest, then his abs until his beautiful totem-pole of a cock is in-front of my face. i confidently slip it all into my throat in one go and he lets out a little moan.

i suck him off for what feels like an hour before he pulls me up by my armpits and spins me around, he lifts my dressing gown up and squeezes my ass before bending me over the couch as he teases my underwear down making my cock twitch due to the prolonged friction, he then rubs the head of his penis along the outside of my un-used hole while i beg for his cock i then moan loudly as he slides it all in at once. he grabs the hair on the back of my head and holds my cock in the other one of his massive veiny hands his expert technique instantly turns me into a worthless hole only purpose is to please him, after a few hours of fucking and cumming we fall asleep on the couch naked together.

after a few more days of constant fucking, sucking and cumming my real dad comes home and we have to start being discrete, doing it in one of our cars or while hes away or even just quietly under the kitchen table, the closer he is, the hotter we find it.

after months of this i notice a small ball in the centre of my stomach while getting dressed i think nothing of it and carry on and on until its too obvious to hide under baggy clothes, i tell people im just bulking cause i want to build mass, i wanted to believe it but me and my step dad knew it was more.

his cum must be super-human i quickly became the biggest pregnant person id ever seen i stuck to my story but less and less people believed it that was when my dad confronted me “hey buddy!” he said putting his head around my door into my room as i lay weighted down by my planet-belly, “ive noticed that your clearly pregnant” i try to sit up and defend myself but it takes me far to long to even start bending my mid-section “you dont need to deny it i know what it looks like-you where one hell of a baby! anyway i was just wondering who the daddy was and if hes in the picture” i knew he was asking because my other dad was never in the picture “well erm he kind of is” i finally admit rubbing my tight taught skin “its m-my step dad” i say defeated. “no fucking way!” my dad says more surprised than angry he finally steps fully in my room without a shirt on revealing his own pretty-large pregnant belly…

#cw mpreg #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg kink #mpregnancy #pregnant man #male pregnancy #mpreg roleplay #mpreg story #male bloating #mpreg caption #tw mpreg #mpregoverdue

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builtbybrokenbells · 11 months ago

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Melodic Memories | Track 2: Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, crying, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

Jake’s POV | Italy, 9:32am

“Come on, Josh. Wake the fuck up.” You muttered, your knuckles beginning to ache from the constant knocking on his door. The one time you needed him, the only time you woke before him was today, when you were stuck facing the most important task of your entire life. “Josh! Let me in!” You shouted, unable to care about disturbing the neighbors sound asleep in the rooms next to him.

Amidst another frantic round of knocking, the door swung open, causing you to stumble forward slightly. Josh stood on the other side, half-dressed with damp hair and a look of clear annoyance on his face. It was apparent he had been awake for a while, and he was actively ignoring your attempts to speak to him. You gave him a half-smile, the expression forced as you tried to upkeep some sense of normalcy despite the anxiety begging to take over.

“Can I help you?” He asked, trying his hardest to stay friendly, even if he wanted to snap.

“Yes, you can.” You nodded, pushing past him and walking into his room without an invitation.

“Come on in, I guess.” Josh raised his hands in exasperation, pushing the door shut as he turned to face you. “It’s not like I have a life, or things to do, or anything like that.”

“Okay, Josh. Can we put the dramatics to the side for a second?” You rolled your eyes. “I need you. This is important.”

As much as you loved your brother, you couldn’t help but get annoyed with his constant need to challenge you and everyone around him. His personality, which was loveable most days, was intolerable at times, but it never usually lasted long. He liked things to happen a certain way, and his strict schedule was key for him to have a good day. If either of those things were disturbed, he could become particularly hard to deal with. Even so, you still needed advice, and he was the only person in the world you trusted with a situation like such.

You could smell the incense lingering in the air, the smoke still hazy in the room under the morning sun pooling from the windows. There was a mat laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, and his trusty handbook to self enlightenment and guided meditations laid atop the mat. You had interrupted his most precious moment of the day, but you were distraught enough to deem your issues more important than his ‘zen’, as he would call it.

He could see the look of desperation in your eyes, the nervous energy surrounding you as you paced the room. Your hands were fidgeting with themselves, occasionally trailing to the hem of your shirt. The crease above your brow was evident, a clear sign of distress, and he too came to terms with the fact that your predicament was more pressing than his morning routine.

“Okay, brother.” He said, grabbing his shirt from the end of the mattress and slipping it over his head. “Just… calm down a little bit, would you? You’re messing up the vibes in here.”

“Oh, would you shove it?” You huffed, pushed your hair from your forehead with your palm, looking towards the ceiling as you tried to gather your racing thoughts. “I don’t care about your fucking vibes, Josh. It smells like the basement of an old church in here, and you look like a fuckin’ idiot.” Normally, the patchouli scent would be a calming experience, reminding you of your brother as soon as it reached your nose and prompting a smile on your face immediately. Now, it just seemed to further irritate your already troubled mind.

“Ouch.” He hummed, crouching down to roll up the yoga mat. “Truth hurts, I guess.” He conceded, understanding that his short fuse was no match for yours when it came down to it. Over the last few years it had only grown worse, and there was only one thing it was accredited to; your burgeoning loneliness and refusal to move on and accept reality.

Six years ago, the world stopped turning. Six years ago, almost to date, you lost the only thing you ever wanted to keep.

Still, after so long and so many different cities, after the plethora of different girls in your bed used to mend a hole in your heart that only ever seemed to grow larger, she was the very thing you thought of when you had a moment to wander. Her face existed behind your eyes when they closed, her laugh plagued your dreams, what once was sweet music now turning into a haunting song that forever followed you, and her memory existed so profoundly that you could feel her fingertips graze your skin and her lips pressed against yours.

The one that got away, or whatever the fuck people said to explain the biggest mistake of your entire life. She was the one thing that forced you out of bed in the morning, the very thing that lulled you to sleep at night, and the reason behind every breath in between. Even after so long, still being amidst radio silence, completely estranged from the reason your heart continued to beat, she was the only person in the world that mattered. You had come to believe that it would always be this way, and you would be stuck hopelessly pining over someone who no longer knew you. You had come to terms with it, accepted it even, despite it still hurting like a bitch.

Until today. Until six hours ago.

Asleep, caught in another dream about the sweetness of her love and the light of her heart, you expected to wake in the morning in agony, just like you did so many times before. You dreaded opening your eyes only to mourn a loss that should have never happened, to face a pain that had no reason to hurt so damn bad, but this morning was different.

You awoke, and instead of being caught in a constant cycle of misery, longing to know if she dreamt of you too, you were faced with the most beautiful shift in the universe. Her name, still ‘sunshine’ in your phone because she was the warmth of a summer day and the joy of a bright afternoon, sat on your notification bar waiting to be noticed. After six years wasted waiting on something you never thought you would see again, it was right there, waiting for you.

Unfortunately, you had thought about it so much that you seemed completely stuck on what to say. Your only dream aside from the one you were already living came to fruition, through no action of your own, and it turned your whole world upside down. You imagined all you would tell her, the things you would confess after having six years to bargain with it. You had questions, you needed answers to things you couldn’t possible stand to learn, but none of it seemed right.

What could you say to ensure you wouldn’t send her running all over again?

That’s where Josh came in, a level head with an (annoyingly) good stress response. The world could be on fire, and he would be by your side to talk you through it, even if it was mostly incoherent rambling that used far too many complicated words. You wondered if he even had an answer to your troubles, or if he would point you in the same direction of his infuriating need to trust the universe. Would he allow himself to snap out of it for a moment and set you straight, or would he force you to rely on your own prerogative, motioning with his hands to frame an abstract picture that relied heavily upon imagination and intuition?

That was a risk you were willing to take, a fear that was so unimportant that it was near obsolete, even if the latter might cause your already short fuse to blow. Josh was the only person you trusted, your twin who knew what you were thinking before you ever said it aloud. He was your best friend, your confidant, and the only person who knew the extent of your love for the woman on the opposite end of the phone. If he couldn’t help, nobody could, and although you had a tendency to brush off his (mostly) unsolicited advice, you were in dire need of it, now. Even if it would not solve the problem, it would at least give you a chance to speak your feelings aloud. From there, maybe you could sort through them.

“What has gotten you in such a twist?” Josh asked, now intrigued by your far-away stare and obvious disarray. “We have a whole day to ourselves, in Italy, Jacob. The country of love, with art and music and literature. There’s so much to see, so much to learn. If this is about the faulty wire in your amp, we can forget about that for today.” He rambled, his arms outstretched as he accentuated his point with his hands. “And if it is because of that, we can forget about that for good. You’ve bitched about it enough.”

A country of love.

How fucking ironic.

“So, tell me brother, what is it?” He sighed, raising an eyebrow at you as he awaited a response. “Unless it’s about the amp, then please don’t. For my sake, keep that to yourself.”

“It’s not about the fucking amp!” You snapped, your hand flying away from your forehead in exasperation. You couldn’t handle listening to him complain about such nonsense when your entire world felt like it was falling apart.

Or, mending back together.

You weren’t sure which it was, but you did know that no matter what it turned out to be, both seemed just as painful.

“Oookay.” Josh nodded, stepping towards the TV stand and leaning against it. He casted a lingering glance in your direction, eager to hear you correct him on the matter. “Are you going to tell me, or just pace around my hotel room?” You gritted your teeth, knowing that to him, the situation didn’t seem that serious at all because you couldn’t find the strength to say it aloud. Instead of verbally responding, you fished out your phone from your pocket, extending your arm as an invitation for him to see it for himself.

He stepped forward, grabbing it from your hand with no further statements. He turned the screen towards himself, tapping it and watching as it came to life. He skipped over the surplus of Instagram notifications, ignoring the text from your tech telling you the amp was back in working condition, and landed on the one thing that seemed out of place.

“I see.” He hummed, almost as surprised as you were at the sight. “Certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair again. You were consumed with stress, but it was joined by a nagging sense of relief that you hadn’t felt in a long while. Her company came with an otherworldly sense of peace, even if it completely threw you off course and uprooted your entire life.

“What is it with her, Jake?” Josh asked, making a move to hand your phone back to you. “She was my friend, too. I get it, but you’re still so caught up on her six years after she left.”

“What is it?” You echoed his words, appalled that he would even say such a thing. “She’s it, man. She’s everything. I’m ‘caught up’ because even after six years, I haven’t met anyone that compares to her.”

“Right.” Josh gave a little nod, watching as you clutched your phone tightly in his hand. “Is it because she’s really that person for you, or do you think that all of the childhood wonder will wear off once she’s back around?” Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, floored that after all Josh heard you say about her in your whole life, he could denounce your connection to ‘childhood wonder.’

“It feels like the sun is shining, again.” You said, calm as you spoke in hopes of getting your point across clearly. “For six years, it felt dark. I forgot what it felt like to be warm, and I got so used to life being cold that I started to think that it was normal. Then, suddenly, I wake up to her name on my phone, and it’s bright outside. The birds are chirping, the leaves look greener, and the sun is shining.” You said, making sure to add the extra pronunciation to the last few words, just so he understood the extent of your feelings on the matter. “It’s been so long I almost forgot how much I missed it, Josh.” He stayed silent for a moment, an irritating smile on his lips as he processed your confession.

“I know.” He said, agreeing as if he never questioned it at all. “I think you just needed to hear yourself say it out loud.”

You opened your mouth to speak, confused and irritated with Josh’s approach to the situation. You were unsure why he thought you needed to say it aloud to yourself, because it was the only thing you had thought about in the six years you spent apart.

“Listen to yourself,” he urged. “You’re in here, freaking out over something that you dream about every night. She’s still thinking about you, and I’m sure she’s not just saying it for the sake of it. Stop overthinking it. You know her, and you know what to do. If she’s reaching out after this long, I’m sure she feels the same way you do.” Josh didn’t ask the questions because he was on the fence about your love for her, but rather so you would pry into your own heart and find the answer yourself. He knew your fears, your hesitancy and your uncertainty, but more than anything, he knew how much you loved her.

“But what do I say?” You pressed further, unable to break yourself from your relentless thoughts.

“Say hello, Jake. You waited this long to talk to her, so just say hello.” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “She wants to talk to you, Jake. Not me.”

“I know,” you sighed, finally feeling your rapid heartbeat subside into a normal rhythm. You really didn’t need Josh’s help at all; you’ve always known how to talk to her, what to say to make her smile and what to do to make her laugh. You just needed someone to listen, to tell you your fear was ridiculous, and that’s exactly what he did. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it up. I lost her once, man, I can’t handle losing her again.”

“You never really lost her, Jake. Life just got in the way. If you lost her, she wouldn’t be here now, texting you to say she misses you.” You swallowed hard, digesting the truth as you looked back down at the message. He was right, and you were being stupid. One of the reasons you loved her so dearly was because the relationship between you was always easy, just like the love that came along with it. You were making things harder for yourself when there was no real need to do it. “Now, go take a shower and clear your head, and text her back. I wouldn’t wait too long, brother.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You huffed, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to force the anxiety out of your head. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned. “Now, get out of here and go get your girl.”

Her POV | Michigan, 3:51am

The silence was deafening, but for the first time in a long time, it was comforting rather than menacing. The mattress below you was inviting, the sheets cool and the scent familiar. Sandalwood, amber, sweet and soft but just enough to notice it before anything else. It was undeniably beautiful, undeniably home. You took a deep breath, wanting to savor the air around you. It was thick with summer heat, the smell of the trees and the grass hanging heavy within it. You felt lighter than ever before, not even the stickiness of the humidity was able to put a damper on your mood. It had been many moons since you found yourself waking in that room with Jake’s cologne clinging to your skin.

You were alone, still a divot in the mattress from where he laid next to you, but he was nowhere in sight. You looked around the room, your eyes darting to every corner in hopes of finding him there, but it became abundantly clear that you were looking in all the wrong places. You climbed out of bed, looking down at the clothes you were wearing, noticing you adorned a pair of sweatpants that were never yours, even though you wore them like they were. The faded t-shirt that hung from your body had faded lettering, the shadow telling you it once was a Jimi Hendrix logo.

The scene was so beautiful, something you’d lived a hundred times, yet it was so different than what it once was. As your feet carried you to the door of his bedroom, the wooden panels of the floor were frigid, shooting daggers of chill through your body with every step you took. You felt like you could see everything in pristine detail, but at the same time, the corners were fuzzy and the long-distance hazy. You reached out to open the door, following the motion but struggling to complete the task.

After a short struggle, you stepped into the hallway, in search of a boy you weren’t sure you would ever find. You were in his house, but it seemed barren, far too empty and much too quiet. It was dark, so unlike the warmth and light it radiated when you visited so many times before. You took small strides down the hallway, noticing it seemed much longer than it should. When you reached the stairs, you began to notice the familiar pictures on the walls. Family photos, pictures of the boy you loved so dearly, but you couldn’t make out the small details. You tried to focus your efforts, to catch a glimpse of the blinding smile and sparkling brown eyes, but it was all lost on you.

In the distance, far away and barely noticeable, you heard an echo of giggles and the soft sounds of music playing through a phone. It was eerily reminiscent of a memory you held so close to your heart, and you felt your feet automatically begin to follow the sound. The stairs were steep, difficult to navigate in the burgeoning darkness, but you persisted despite the struggle. When your feet hit the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor, you peeked your head around the corner, not daring to disturb the bodies inside and desperate to remain hidden.

In the low light, only the moon filtering in through the window, you saw two bodies close together. A lump formed in your throat, a wave of grief washing over you as you noticed Jake’s hands on the girls hips and her arms wrapped around his neck. Who was she, and why was she so close to him? Why was he letting her get so close while you slept so soundly in his bed?

As you continued to inspect the scene, you could hear them whispering to each other, joyus and giddy as they professed their love for each other. You couldn’t make out the words, nor could you see her face, but your stomach was sick and your chest was burning with indignation. The music playing from his phone was unclear, distant and almost recognizable when you focused all of your attention on it, but it was impossible to pry your eyes away from the picture of the two.

The cuffs of the sweatpants on her legs were rolled up, the pants too large to fit her, much like the ones you were wearing in the same moment. Your eyes trailed to her ankle, noticing a braided tri-toned thread knotted around the limb. You blinked hard, trying to get a better look. When she turned to the side ever so slightly, you noticed letter beads hanging from the handmade anklet.

Three beads, too small for you to read, but you knew it all too well.

You fell to your knees, the sickness in your stomach taking over your entire body. The music on the speaker grew louder, pounding in your ears and making it impossible to block it out. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t speak, and you couldn’t bear to stand witness to the moment any longer. The love in his eyes was overwhelming, staring down at her like she was the only thing to ever exist. His lips mouthed the words of the song, like he was singing it to her as the two of them swayed in time with the slow beat. It was unmistakable, the anklet on her leg adorning the initials for yours and his first name, a heart stuck between them. The sweatpants were to big on her because they were his, and his clothes had always been too big for you. The song, irritatingly loud cemented the reality in your mind that the woman was no stranger.

She was you, and you couldn’t recognize the scene because you’d never once seen the love in his eyes from a distance. It was so easy to overlook when you were standing close to him, but as you watched him love you, it was unmistakable and hard to ignore how much he truly did.

“I told you I couldn’t dance.” He said, his tone soft as he pulled you closer to him. You were standing at a distance, watching him say the words to you as if you were a third party rather than the woman he was speaking to, but you could hear him like he was next to you, whispering in your ear.

“I think you’re doing a great job, baby.” Your voice was different, softer and higher. There was an airiness in your words, a tone you hadn’t adorned in many years. Love was dripping from your lips, and you didn’t recognize the sound because he was the last person you ever spoke to like such.

“Yeah? You think?” He smirked, pulling away from you ever so slightly. He reached for your hand, holding it tightly in his own as he spun you around. You erupted in a fit of giggles, only worsening as he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you back into him.

“I do, bug.” You promised, watching as one of his hands snaked up your back. Before you could process it, he dipped you down, leaning down with you as he pressed his mouth to yours. For a moment, you feared the two of you would lose your balance and topple over. As you watched, you could practically feel the warmth and safety wash over you despite his hands being on a completely different version of you. You envied yourself in the moment, aching to remember what his lips felt like on your own. Watching it unfold in real time was equal to torture, making you realize just how long it had been since you felt so at peace with the world.

When he pulled away, his lips continued hovering over your own, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. The sound of the music swirled around the two of you, freezing you in a time frame you so badly wanted to revisit. Just when you thought it couldn’t be more precious, the gentle sound of his singing filled your ears.

“I feel wonderful

Because I see the love light in your eyes

And the wonder of it all

Is that you just don’t realize how much I love you.”

He pulled you back upright, your head resting on his shoulder and your eyes closed in bliss. You were crying, not the version of you wrapped up in his arms, but the one facing such torture as you watched it unfold. You wondered how the same person could face such a sharp, double edged sword, reveling in the beauty of his love and aching at the loss of it. If only you knew then how bad it would hurt when you left, you might have been more stingy with your heart.

No, not even then. You would have done it a million times over, faced the pain every time in exchange for a single second of his love. It was worth every second of the hurt, but you feared you might not survive it if it carried on with the same intensity.

“Have I told you that you look wonderful tonight?” He asked, his hand holding the back of your head in fear you might pull away. If he could, he would have lived in the moment for the rest of his life, never needing anything other than you beside him.

Before you could answer, the song was interrupted by the annoying chirp of a text tone. Your attention was pulled away, wondering who dared intrude on such a cherished memory. As you turned to look back, the text tone chimed again, and the sight before you began to fade away. The two bodies became washed out in the darkness, barely noticeable anymore. You bolted forward, your hand outstretched as if you could grab them and pull them back. You wanted to keep watching, to keep reliving the pain and the pleasure all balled into one. Before you could reach them, they were gone completely, and the kitchen began to fade around you as the phone continued to ring. Tears were falling from your eyes, an agonizing pain taking hold as you lost sight of the moment for the second time in your life.

You woke with a start, your throat dry and your head aching. You made a move to brush the hair from your face, noticing your cheeks were damp with tears. You had been crying in real time, an automatic response to the visuals in your dreams. You let out a long breath, trying to straighten your thoughts out as you looked to your best friend, fast asleep beside you and completely unbothered. Then, a text tone filled the hair, making you jump in surprise. The sound in the dream must have been your phone going off next to you, you deducted. You picked up your phone, unplugging it from the charger and turning on your side so you could read the notification that disrupted your sleep.

You blinked hard, squinting at the bright light as it hurt your eyes. Sleepiness still plagued your vision, making it difficult to interpret the words despite the screen being inches away from your face. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the blurriness lessened and allowed for you to read what it said.

Your stomach dropped, your mind racing immediately upon noticing who the text was from, and in an instant you were wide awake. Careful not to disturb Mel, you sat upright, the blankets still covering your legs as they fell from your chest. There was no way in the world that he actually replied, and for a moment, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you after waking up from such a tragic dream. When you continued to stare and the words before you remained the same, a flutter of excitement took hold.

Jake ❤️ - 3:57am

Hey, stranger :)

You let out a long breath, calming your racing heart as you wondered where to go from there. You weren’t even expecting the text to go through, let alone for him to respond. At the very most, you thought someone else would reply, sorrowly informing you that Jake no longer had the number. You had no idea how to respond, no idea where to go from there. You had waited so long to see his name grace your screen, desperately wanting to talk to him but knowing you should stay away. You were terrified of disrupting his life, intruding on something he’d worked so hard to build. You didn’t want to bring back any pain for him, or stand in the way of anything good beginning to blossom. After so long, you didn’t want to hurt him any more than you already had.

Now that he responded, eagerly greeting you and your melancholic message, you wondered if Mel was right and he’d been waiting to hear from you all this time, scared of all the same things.

You pulled your legs towards you, sitting cross legged as you found yourself stuck in that train of thought. As you did so, Ozz, who had been sleeping soundly by your feet, let out a small ‘mrph’, letting you know he was discontent with your sudden movement. You wondered if you should wake the girl sleeping soundly beside you to consult her for advice, but you decided against it. You hadn’t even told her you messaged him yet, and you couldn’t face her wrath so early in the morning, knowing her emotions would be amplified tenfold from being woken up mid-slumber.

Jake ❤️ - 3:59am

Thinking of me, eh? After all this time?

Your lips upturned into a small smile as the second message came through, the words so in character for him. You could practically hear the tone of voice he would have said it in. Your anxiety seemed to flee you as you clicked onto his contact, opening up the text thread.

You - 4:00am

Guess some things never change.

You watched as the delivered notification changed to read, signifying he was sitting in the chat, waiting for your response. The grey bubble popped up, three dots letting you know he was amidst a reply, and you felt the same giddiness as you did at fifteen, texting him for the very first time.

Jake ❤️ - 4:01am

Could have fooled me. Thought you forgot all about me.

You - 4:01am

Never, Jake.

You - 4:02am

Just because I never reached out, doesn’t mean I stopped thinking of you.

Jake ❤️ - 4:03an

I know, sweetheart. Guess it just never got any easier.

At that, you were certain your heart broke in two. He really had been thinking of you all this time, hurting just the same. He was the same Jake, just older and a little wiser, the same as you were. No matter how many numbers decorated your age, neither of you ever stopped caring.

Jake ❤️ - 4:05am

Can I call you? So much I want to catch up on.

You froze, unsure if you should say yes. You wanted to hear his voice, to learn everything you missed out on while you forced yourself away. You wanted to see his smiling face, to know what he looked like after all of this time. You looked to Mel, not wanting to disturb her while she slept, but knowing you couldn’t leave him hanging. You’d done it one too many times, breaking your own heart every time you pushed him away. It felt like fate, finding that box buried underneath so many different things from your childhood. It felt like fate that he still had the same number, and that he responded to the unsolicited message you sent in a moment of weakness.

You - 4:08am

Yes, please. Just give me a second.

You slid out of bed as carefully as you could, sneaking off to the hallway with your phone clutched tightly in your hand. You rounded the corner into the bathroom, flipping the light on as you sat your phone on the counter. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, quickly combing through the mess of tangled hair atop your head. When you looked presentable and felt awake, you flicked off the light and walked downstairs. Staying quiet so not to disturb anyone else, you walked to the couch in the living room and flipped on the lamp beside it. You curled up under the blanket still laying in a pile on one of the cushions, the hum of the air conditioner sending a chill through you.

When you situated yourself, you unlocked your phone and clicked on his contact. For a moment, your finger hovered over the FaceTime button, an abundance of anxiety plaguing you as you realized this was it. This was the moment you dreamed of so many times before, and it was finally a reality. You spent years aching to hear his voice again, to see his smile and that familiar sparkle in his eye. You wondered why it was so hard to follow through, to accept the reality with open arms. You needed it, but it was a million times more difficult than you ever thought it would be.

What if he got on the call and told you that he had a girlfriend, or worse yet, he was married? What if the call didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you, and you were a fool for thinking it did? What if, worst of all, he was in search of closure and you were in search of rekindling? You couldn’t hear the thought of letting him go now, especially after feeling the high of seeing his face again. You couldn’t bear the idea of letting him go, and you didn’t even have him yet.

“Stop it, Y/N.” you scolded, shaking yourself out of the thought. You were being ridiculous, thinking too far into the simple interaction. There was no way Jake would entertain a late night phone call with you if there was someone else sleeping in his bed; he’d never been that kind of person, and he never would be. He wouldn’t ask to call if he didn’t really want to talk to you, and he wouldn’t have responded if you didn’t still take up space in his brain.

You had to live in the moment, rather than the past, and more importantly, the future your anxious thoughts were creating with zero proof of anything. You needed to talk to him, just so you could ease your mind and put the overwhelming thoughts to rest. It was Jake, and he’d always been your light in the dark, and your rationale when things got crazy. You’d never been afraid to talk to him before, and you needn’t be so afraid now, even if it had been an agonizingly long time.

You swallowed your fear and clicked on the video icon, the screen immediately changing to the FaceTime dial screen. The low ringing sounded in your ears, but you didn’t have much time to regret your decision. Within seconds, he had accepted the call and your screen was connecting to his phone. After what seemed like an eternity, the full view appeared, and it felt like you had been punched in the stomach. Your heart stopped momentarily, and your eyes welled with tears just at the sight of him.

He was just as beautiful as you remembered, if not more so, now. He’d grown into an adult, his cheeks filled out and his eyes decorated with small wrinkles as he smiled. His upper lip had a mustache growing in, sending a shiver down your spine as you came to terms with how good he looked with it. The brown of his irises still knocked the air from your lungs, and the pinkness of his lips sent your stomach twisting with emotion. He was dressed, a button up long sleeved shirt from what you could tell, the top slightly undone so you could see a flash of his chest. There was a pendant hanging from a chain around his neck, drawing your attention to the tanned skin below it.

Worst of all, his hair was still slightly damp, like he’d showered not long before he messaged you, and it was long. It hung well past his shoulders, just like he always wanted it to, just like you always imagined it would.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice was quiet, soft as he seemed to be admiring the sight before him the same as yourself. You couldn’t help but notice the difference in his tone, his voice deeper and a little more gravelly than it was before. He was a man, grown up and so different from the boy you knew in high school, but he was the same. You spent so long fearful that if you did run into him again, you wouldn’t recognize him at all, but he was the very same person you fell in love with so long ago, just a little older now.

“Hi, Jake.” You breathed, your cheeks rosy just from his beauty alone. The nickname on his lips sounded right, so perfect and something you’d longed to hear for years. The corners of his lips upturned into a smile, as if you’d granted him the greatest gift just by saying his name. “You look so different… So good.” You corrected yourself, biting down on the inside of your lip. “Your hair.”

“You like it?” He asked, turning his head slightly so you could get a better view. A blinding smile lit up his face, making the scene all the more precious. “Always told you I’d do it, someday.”

“I love it.” You whispered, your eyes soft and your face encased in a smile that matched his own. “I always hoped you’d actually do it. I knew it would suit you.”

“You look beautiful, sunshine.” He said, his eyes refocusing on the screen as he studied your face. “Just the same as you did all those years ago.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment, your rosy cheeks turning crimson in an instant.

“Thank you,” you squeaked, overcome with excitement as you truly grasped the situation. Your eyes floated around the screen, trying your best to place his location. Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized he wasn’t sitting underneath artificial light, and the glow of his face was because of natural sunlight flowing in through the windows. “Is it… is it daytime, where you are?” You asked, only slightly confused as you awaited his answer. You didn’t think about how much six years could change, and you understood that he could be anywhere in the world, now.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his head turning towards the window. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart. I was so excited to hear from you, I didn’t even think of the time difference.” He exclaimed, looking back to you with a hint of panic written on his face. “It’s gotta be late at home. Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t apologize, please.” You shook your head. “It is late, but it’s okay. I’m so happy to talk to you that I don’t even care.” You explained further, hoping to squash any bit of guilt he had over the fact. “So if it’s daytime, where are you? I think that’s the better question.” You grinned, already moved on from the question of being woken up.

“Me?” He chuckled, finding your intrigue a bit surprising. “I’m in Italy, right now.”

“Italy!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice hushed so you did not wake anyone else. “Jacob, what the hell are you doing in Italy?” He let out a loud, booming laugh at your response, his glee contagious even through the screen. You felt a warmth overtake your entire body, wondering what you could say to get him to laugh like that again.

“Italy today, but we’re not doing a whole lot right now, just seeing some sights before we get back to it. We were in Brazil, and Mexico, France, and Sweden, too.” He listed off, purposefully neglecting to answer the biggest question to build the suspense. “Then, we’re headed off to Germany and Ireland, then to the UK for a few days, then home.” He continued, an irritating little smile on his face as he continued to leave you hanging.

“Okay, and? Brag much?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you downplayed your curiosity and covered it with sarcasm. He let out another laugh, the sound strikingly beautiful as it settled deep in your bones. “Seriously, Mr. World Traveler, what are you doing? And who is ‘we’?” You wanted to hear it all, but you couldn’t deny you were dreading the answer to your second question. You didn’t want to know if it was a significant other, especially now that you were face to face with the feelings that still existed for him.

You could see a flash of hurt in his eyes as you asked, like he was devastated that you didn’t know anything about him anymore. He didn’t know if you kept up with his life, watching his dreams unfold in real time despite the distance, but he wanted you to. He didn’t want to live a life you didn’t have any part in, even if it wasn’t as active as he dreamed it would be. He wanted you to know him, to check in on him like he still did with you from time to time, but he couldn’t blame you. He knew firsthand just how badly it hurt to see you live your life through a screen.

“I did it, sunshine.” He said, answering every question with one, simple phrase. At the sound of his words, you were overtaken by a mixture of grief and pride, unable to properly express how fantastic you felt upon learning the truth.

“Jake,” you breathed, feeling your bottom lip quiver with an abundance of emotion you couldn’t hold back. “You did it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, a small smile on his face. The sadness in your tone killed him, but it was the exact one that he was feeling, so he did not feel right scolding you for something when he succumbed to the same feeling.

“I’m so sorry.” You took in a sharp breath, fighting back the tears begging to fall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Jake. I always knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.” Your chest was tight, your head already aching from previous tears shed. You had no idea how you had anything left to cry, but the sadness was so plentiful that you couldn’t seem to do anything else.

“Don’t cry, beautiful.” He pleaded, not because he didn’t understand, but because he knew it all too well. If you let tears fall, he wouldn’t be far behind you, and he was trying so hard to keep himself together. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You’re the whole reason I made it here, sunshine:”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, swiping away tears before they could fall too far. “You’re the reason you made it, Jake. You worked so hard, all of this time. I don’t deserve credit for any of it. I’m just the girl who left.”

“Is that what you think, Y/N?” He asked, in disbelief of your words. Your silence was telling of the truth, answering his question without any doubt. “You’re not the girl who left, sweetheart. You’re everything.”

The one word struck a nerve in you that you did not know existed.

Everything.

He thought of you the exact same way you thought of him.

You weren’t just his ex-girlfriend, nor a high school sweetheart long forgotten in the mess of his chaotic life. You weren’t a girl who broke his heart, and you weren’t someone he despised. You were someone he loved so utterly and deeply, in the same way you still loved him.

“I waited for six years, hoping I’d wake up to a message from you, even if it was to tell me you’d moved on and you were wishing me well so you could close the door on us. It would have hurt, but I would have been happy as long as you were. You’re not some girl, Y/N. You’re the girl. You’re my sunshine.” At that, your head fell back against the cushion of the couch, tears free flowing as you tried your best to process all that he was saying. “I don’t care if it makes me seem like an idiot, but I waited, because you’ve always been worth it to me. Couldn’t move on unless I knew for sure there was no chance of you coming back.”

“I waited too, Jake.” You confessed. “I wanted to talk to you every night, to tell you everything that’s happened since I last saw you, but I was so scared you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.” He promised. “You were my biggest fan, and my biggest inspiration. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t loved me so much.” He confessed, looking pained as he spoke. Even after so long, he was in agony not being there to wipe the tears from your face. He wondered how many times you found yourself like that, over him with nobody there to help you through it. He wondered if it was as many times as it happened to him.

“I have so much to tell you, Jake. There’s so much I want you to tell me.”

“Whatever you want to know, sunshine. I want to tell you everything.” He said, the same softness in his tone as he used to have with you. He was telling the truth; the love he had for you was still there, only growing worse as time went on and he had nowhere to put it down. “But please don’t disappear on me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“No more disappearing.” You promised, finding the thought almost laughable. You could barely find enough strength to walk away from him the first time, let alone a second. “So you made it? Tell me about the band. Tell me how it happened.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. “We named it ‘Greta Van Fleet’.” He explained, pausing so he could answer as well as he could. “We made an EP with a couple of songs we finished writing just after high school, and it caught some attention. Before too long, we were signed on with a label and writing a second album. By that point, Sam was graduated and we figured we’d move to Nashville. Seemed like a better fit for us.”

“So Sammy plays with you, too? Does Josh still sing?”

“Yeah, Sam plays bass and keys..” Jake chuckled, nodding along as he spoke. “Josh sings for us, yeah.”

“So… your drummer?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear who they picked.

“Daniel.” Jake grinned, seeing your eyes light up with excitement.

“So you kept the whole family together, huh?”

“That’s kind of our thing, I guess.” He shrugged, downplaying the situation to seem nonchalant about it.

“And you’re on tour now? In Europe!” You gushed, more proud of him than even he could comprehend. “For your second album?”

“Third.” He corrected, only slightly smug about it.

“Holy shit, bug. I’m so proud of you.” The pet name slipped out without thought, his eyes softening as he heard the word. It had been too long since he heard you say it, but he could never forget how it made him feel. Your cheeks turned red at the realization of what you had said, only slightly embarrassed that it seemed so easy to slip back into the old routine. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

“No need to apologize.” He gave you a soft smile. “Kinda liked it. Been a while.”

“It has.” You nodded. “So… I guess I have some listening to do.”

“Seems like it.” He chuckled. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.” You assured him. “I really do. I didn’t want to disappear on you, Jake. It killed me, but I had to.”

“Why?” He asked, his voice quiet as sadness encased his face. “Why did you have to?”

“‘Cause at the time, I thought it was right. I thought us breaking up was for the best.” Your lips turned down into a frown. “I loved you so much, and the more I talked to you, the harder it was to convince myself it was for the best.”

“Do you still think it was for the best?” The question hit you with a force you weren’t quite prepared for.

Did you think it was for the best? No, of course not; you barely thought it was for the best back then, and you regretted leaving since the very first night spent away from him. Now, though? He just told you how fantastic his life had been since you walked away, and it had you second guessing everything you’d ever believed. You didn’t want to believe it was for the best, but you couldn’t ignore how far he had come. You wondered if you stayed together, if his life would have ended up the same.

“Yes and no.” You swallowed hard, unsure how to answer correctly. “I was miserable the whole time. I missed you so much, and every day I wished I was still with you. At the same time, if we stayed together, would you have done so well in life? Would I have held you back? If we stayed together, would we still love each other so much, or would it have turned into resentment because we couldn’t never fully be together?” It was his turn to be silent, taking in all you had to offer.

“You never would have held me back.” He said with the utmost of certainty in his tone. “It would have been hard in a different way, but I would have been happy to be with you, no matter how far away you were. I would have done all of this and more, with you there to share it with me.” He shrugged. “I regret letting you leave, sunshine. I think about it every day, and it hurts the same as it did six years ago. Sounds so stupid to be so caught up on a high school ex, but nobody ever compared to you. I never wanted anyone else. Still, after this long, you’re the only person I can think about.”

“Me too, Jake.” You whispered, finding it hard to take your eyes off his face. He was so beautiful, no matter where he was or what he did, and it was impossible not to admire him. “Life changed, and so did I, but I still love you like I did back then. It’s almost scary, because I wonder if the rest of my life will always come back to that one guy from high school.”

“Hey,” his eyebrows furrowed, a small smile blossoming on his lips. “I wasn’t just some guy from high school. Give me more credit than that.”

“You’re right.” You giggled. “You’ve always been more than just some guy.” Silence became the two of you for a moment as you reveled in the beauty of being together once again, even if it wasn’t quite the same.

“So, no boyfriend?” He asked, the same boyish charm surfacing that you’d grown so familiar with.

“Definitely not.” You laughed again, your eyes sparkling with emotion. “No girlfriend?”

“Nope,” he gave a single shake of his head, popping the ‘p’ to accentuate his feelings on the matter.

“What a coincidence.” You smiled, teasing him only slightly. “Too bad you’re all the way in Europe.”

“I won’t be here forever, sunshine.” He said, a little more serious than he was a moment before.

“But you’ll go back to Nashville.” You said, unwilling to get your hopes up.

“Eventually, yeah.” He nodded, agreeing to an extent. “Only if I have nowhere else to go.”

You tried not to read too much into it, forcing yourself to believe he didn’t mean it the way you took it, but his intent was quite clear and incredibly hard to ignore. The door was open and he was waiting on the other side, inviting you to join him. He wanted to rekindle the old flame, just as bad as you wanted to do it, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth first. There was nothing stopping you; hell, you were the one who reached out in the first place. Deep down, you were hoping to hear him say that, but it did not make it any less scary.

In six years, it was abundantly clear the two of you had changed. You weren’t even sure if you were compatible anymore, or if the conversation was going so well because of the residual love still leftover. You would have to get to know him all over again and hope that he still loved the newest version of you. More than anything, you were terrified that you would get hurt all over again. Jake was your biggest heartbreak and the only man you had ever loved.

Then again, he was never the one who broke your heart. You did that, not him. In the time you’d known Jake, all he ever did was love, and respect you. Even after you broke his heart, he still tried to stay friends, to help you through your first days of university so you weren’t completely alone. When you told him it was too much, even though it hurt him, he respected your wishes. Now, six years later, he answered your message at the drop of a dime, even halfway across the world. He put his plans on pause, just to talk to you and see how far you had come. He wanted to tell you all he accomplished; he’d been waiting over half a decade to share it with you, because you were the only one he wanted to share it with.

How could you be so afraid of a man who only ever wanted to love you?

Well, you weren’t scared of him. You were afraid of the power he had over you, and all of the love you still had. You were afraid of losing him again, and you were afraid of hurting. In six years, you had never felt as good as you did at that moment. Talking to Jake made the world seem right again, and you were horrified at the prospect of losing it. You barely survived it the first time, functioning only after you forced him out of your mind. Maybe it was too fast to be professing such feelings to him over a FaceTime call at four in the morning, and maybe you had opened yourself up for a whole new world of pain you wouldn’t be able to handle.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to think of a response, because you were nowhere near ready to delve into that subject.

The patter of tiny paws against the floor paired with the jingle of a bell snapped you from your brooding, and within seconds, you were joined on the couch by a cat who was greatly displeased that you left the room without him. He jumped up on the couch, already purring as he stepped onto your stomach and blocked the view of the camera.

“Hi, baby.” You cooed, giving his head a pet in hopes he would ease off on the affection. “Sorry, Jake.” You said, knowing the cat was completely blocking his view of you. He climbed up onto your chest, rubbing his face against yours as if he was dying from a lack of attention.

“You finally got a cat!” Jake exclaimed, completely disregarding your apology as a new train of thought popped in his head. A smile broke out onto your face as you lifted the camera up, giving him a better view of the two of you. When he continued to move towards your face, you slipped your free hand under his front legs, propping him up next to you and turning the camera so he could get a clear picture of the two of you.

Little to your knowledge, Jake took the opportunity to snap a quick screenshot of the moment, his emotion running high and his heart making all of the decisions. He didn’t want to forget a single moment of the sweet reunion. He didn’t want to forget a single moment spent with you.

“I did,” you laughed, turning your head slightly so Ozz had less access to your face as you spoke. You eased your hold on him, letting him meander around freely now that the intruductions had passed. “Or he got us, I guess. Didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Us?” He asked, curious as to who you were talking about.

“Yeah, my best friend and I.” You clarified.

“God, sunshine, there’s so much I want to ask.” He confessed, chuckling as he watched the cat settle down on your stomach, curling up into a ball.

“Ask away.” You smiled, giving him the same energy he gave you.

“What’s his name?” He started easy, clearly talking about the furry companion taking post on your abdomen.

“Ozz.”

“Like after Ozzy Osbourne?”

“The one and only.” You nodded, smiling slightly. “His full name is The man himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness. Ozz is just for short.” As if he understood the pretense of the conversation, he let out a tiny meow at the sound of his name. Jake found himself caught up in another fit of laughter, the name striking him as hilarious and perfectly fitting for you. “We found him in an alleyway by a coffee shop, now the bastard lives like royalty.”

“He does seem pretty… spoiled.” He commented, noticing how content the cat was just to lay on you.

“That’s putting it mildly.” You grinned, scratching behind his ear.

“Your best friend, do you live with them?” He asked, treading carefully. He wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of you living with a guy, even if you did say you were single. He knew it wasn’t his place to be upset over such a thing, but jealousy was a human emotion he was often susceptible to, especially when it came to you.

“Yeah, I do. Her name is Mel. Met her not long after I got to school. We had the same major, and the same intro to lit class, so we clicked pretty fast. Think we moved in together in our second year, and we stayed in the same apartment ‘till school was done.” You explained, keeping it short and simple. You were scared of boring him, but you wanted to tell him every detail of the years he missed, just so it seemed like he never left at all. “She’s great, you’d really like her. She’s the one who encouraged me to reach out, actually.”

“I’ll have to thank her, then.” He gave you a soft smile, seeing his appreciation for the fact. “So you graduated?”

“I did.” A blinding smile took over as you confirmed it. “In April, with honors. I almost gave up a couple times, but I’m so thankful I stuck with it.”

“I’m so proud of you, sunshine. I always knew you’d do fantastic.” Your cheeks turned pink again, almost unsure how to handle such sweet words from him after so long. You were so thankful that the conversation was flowing easily, like there’d never been a period of time where the two of you stopped.

“Thank you. I always wanted to make you proud.” You muttered, almost embarrassed at the thought.

“Are you kidding, angel? I’ve always been proud of you.” He said, leaning a little closer to the screen as he spoke. His face up close was even more stunning, and you found yourself bargaining with the racing of your head.

“You’re so beautiful, Jake.” The words slipped out faster than you could stop them. As soon as they left your lips, you bit down on your tongue, unable to believe you said the thought aloud. You noticed his cheeks turn pink, his whole face illuminated by the warm sunlight flowing in through the windows. Even if you knew you shouldn’t have said it, it didn’t make it any less true.

“You too, sunshine.” A little giggle fell from his lips, like he was bashful about your compliment. You felt your heart ache to be next to him, to hear the laugh in real time. You longed to be with him, but you knew better than that. Things were never this easy, and you were bracing for the inevitable disappointment that always seemed to come. “Tell me more. What are you doing now?”

“Once we graduated, we went to Arizona for a little while. We packed up Mel’s stuff and hauled it back to Michigan. We’re staying with mom for a few weeks so I can pack up my things and apply for some jobs. When we get hired, we’re gonna find a place of our own.” You explained, feeling the sleepiness begin to take hold again. You wanted to fight it for as long as possible, dreading the end of the call and desperate to keep talking to him. “I found an opening at a high school in Ann Arbor that seemed promising, and Mel applied at an elementary school nearby. There was also a position at the University of Michigan as a professor, so I applied there, too. I’m not sure if I’ll get it, but I’ve got my fingers crossed.”

“My girl, the professor.” He muttered to himself, barely realizing the extent of the words that slipped from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound, the possessive claim potentially misplaced, but feeling like heaven as it washed over you. For a moment, even if it wasn’t truly like that anymore, you wanted to live in the feeling of being his. You neglected to correct him, and he seemed to make no moves to do it himself. “Any one of them would be lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, looking down and away from his burning gaze. “I never thought I’d want to teach at a university, but the older I get, the more appealing it seems.”

“Whatever you choose to do, I know you’ll do great.” He assured you. “So you’re staying with your mom?” You gave a slight nod, fighting a yawn as it clawed at your throat. “How is she doing? And your sister? Does she still play basketball?”

“Yeah, she does.” You grinned. “She’s in university now, too. Got an athletic scholarship and she’s killing it. My mom’s good too, keeping busy like always and happy to have all of us home. I think being alone all of the time gets to her.”

“Yeah, I ran into her a few times after you moved out. She seemed pretty lost without you.” Your chest pained at the thought, but you knew he was right. You and your sister were your mom’s whole world, and when you moved out, she took it hard.

“She never really got back into dating, so she gets pretty lonely here by herself. I think she still talks to your mom on occasion, but she was scared of crossing any boundaries, you know? I told her it was more than alright, but she’s always so worried about everything.” You explained, your voice quiet as you continued to pet Ozz’s head.

“It’s a mom thing. They never stop worrying.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You giggled. “How’s your parents?”

“Good,” he gave a slow nod, thinking about his response before he spoke. “They miss us a lot. We don’t visit enough, and it makes me feel bad, but life gets so busy.”

“‘Specially for you, rockstar.” Your lips turned up in the corner, finding the nickname perfectly fitting.

“You decided to settle down in Michigan again? I never thought you’d go back.” He switched the subject, trying to hide the blushing of his cheeks at your new pet name. His tone was inquisitive, and full of disbelief. You couldn’t blame him for thinking it, because for your entire life, you had promised you’d never move back.

“Just seemed like the right thing at the time.” You mumbled, unsure of the real reason you wanted to come home. Maybe it was your subconscious forcing you back to Michigan in hopes you would run into him. “Didn’t know where else to go, so I went home. Been here for a few days now, and it’s not so bad. I don’t have any friends here anymore, but that’s okay.”

“You could make friends anywhere, sunshine.” He said, listening intently to every word.

“I found the mixtape, Jake.” You finally confessed the truth behind you reaching out. “I found all of the old stuff, actually.”

“Oh.” He breathed, unsure of how to respond because he wasn’t sure how you felt about it.

“All of the Polaroids, and the love notes. All those flowers I saved, and a shit ton of guitar picks you left here.” A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as you thought of it. “And the mixtape. I sat down and listened to it last night, for the first time in years.” You paused, feeling your eyes begin to well with tears again. “I can’t believe you did all of that for me, Jake. You were the best boyfriend in the whole world.” The exhaustion was beginning to hit now, and your words were coming out unfiltered. If you waited until the morning to respond, you likely would have kept the thoughts to yourself.

“I wish I did more, Y/N. you deserved the world, and you still do. I keep thinking that if I tried a little harder, we wouldn’t have ended up here.” His words were equal to a stab in the chest. You never wanted him to feel less than good enough, because he was everything to you, still to this day. Nothing he did drove you away, and nothing he could have done would have made you stay.

“I like to think things happened the way they did because they had to, like our story was already written before it started.” You explained, knowing that was the only reasoning that helped you survive the time without him. “We couldn’t have changed the way things played out, so we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over it.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, swallowing back a lump forming in his throat. “But we can always change the future.”

“I think we are, right now.” You whispered, a breath of hope filling your lungs.

“We are.” He agreed, a soft smile taking hold again. “So you listened to the songs again?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, playing with a frayed thread on the seam of the blanket. “Hence why I sent you that one last night.”

“Right.” He nodded, remembering the message all too well. “I hope I didn’t make the song bad for you again. I only ever wanted to make you happy, to give that memory back to you.”

“No, Jake. F’course you didn’t.” You replied without missing a beat. “Sure, it hurts, but not like it used to. It’s different. It hurts because I was loved, not because I wasn’t.” He sat with the thought for a moment, bargaining with it before he responded.

“I’ve always loved the way you think of things. Like a whole new perspective I’ve never even considered.”

“Things aren’t ever just black and white. There’s a million different reasons for why things happen the way they do, and I think it’s important to consider all of them.” You shrugged, knowing that you’d gone over the million different reasons pertaining to your breakup every day since. “I had a dream tonight, about the Clapton song.” You weren’t sure why you were telling him so much, but you felt like he needed to know, that he needed to hear how cherished those memories were to you.

“I think of you every time I hear it.” He spoke softly, as if he didn’t want the words to scare you away. “Just us, in that kitchen, without a care in the world.”

“We were such romantics.” You giggled, recalling the gentle hold of his hands on your hips as if it were yesterday. Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing yourself to live in the moment again. You could feel the closeness of his face, his warm breath on your skin as his nose brushed yours. His cologne surrounded you, the scent calming and inviting. Slow dancing with him in the kitchen was the only thing that mattered, in that moment and every one that came after.

It was hard, feeling like you wanted to go home whilst you sat at home.

Home was never a building, never the four walls that surrounded you. The house in which you sat in was nothing but a place; cold, dark and empty when he wasn’t beside you. It was a place in which you’d lived the worst days of your life, and one in which you watched your loved ones live theirs. It was a house that your father once lived in, but abandoned in search of a new family with someone better. The house you sat in was not home, not in that moment and not in many others. There were blips in time when that warm feeling came, when you felt welcome and at peace, but it was all due to him.

Jake was the very thing that made home, home, all of those years ago. His love seeped into the walls, touched every surface and item inside, ensuring that the blissfulness would remain long after he left. His laugh, still booming down the hallway and bouncing from the floor to the ceiling despite it being years since he stepped foot inside. Without him, it was just a house.

“I miss you, Jake.” The words echoed through the vacant room, louder each time they passed through your ears. The statement was heavy, weighing you down like concrete. The effect of the notion remained long after silence ensued again, and nothing could break you out of that feeling. You missed him now, and you missed him every day for six years. You missed him the minute you left, and that hole in your heart never seemed to mend. Even when you met new people and tried so hard to fill yourself up with love, it was never enough to replace what you lost when you left him. “I’ve missed you for years. It gets worse every day.”

“I miss you.” He said, knowing it was a grave thought for him, too. “I‘ve spent so long traveling the world, seeing new things and meeting new people, but it doesn’t mean anything without someone to share it with. I want to share it with you, sunshine. No matter if it’s as friends, or as something more. I miss you.”

At that, any semblance of strength shattered, sending your heart along with it. You spent so long trying to convince yourself that he was happy, and that he moved on. You wanted to believe that he found someone who put the stars in his sky, and that you would find that person for yourself, someday. You stayed away because you thought you would only cause him problems, that your presence in his life would be detrimental rather than beneficial, but it wasn’t true. You decided it for him, and he was suffering because of it.

He missed you the same as you missed him, lying awake in bed wondering if you had someone to keep you warm at night. He believed you found someone to replace him, someone who loved you even more desperately and dearly than himself, someone who made you happier than he could. He neglected to reach out in fear it would disrupt your life, that it would cause a problem he didn’t want you to have. Jake suffered, and he suffered just as much as you did. You weren’t being the hero; you were the direct cause of the pain you always wished he would be free of.

“We’re so stupid.” You muttered, feeling your voice crack as you spoke.

“So stupid.” He agreed. “Maybe we can make up for it. Maybe this is our second chance.”

“I want to hear about all of it, Jake. I never wanted to stop hearing about it. I want to see all the pictures, and hear all the stories about you traveling the world, and I want to hear the music you wrote.” You explained, watching his eyes soften as you spoke. It pained you to know he ever thought you wouldn’t want to hear it all. “Seems like I have lots of homework to do.”

“You don’t have to do it all on your own.” He chuckled, shaking his head at your tendency to overwhelm yourself. “Let me show you some pictures now. I have time, if you want to see them.”

“Of course I do.” You stressed the word, nervous that you were beginning to feel the hole in your chest mend back together. You’d grown so comfortable with its presence that you began to forget how painful it was when it formed, and now that it was disappearing, you dreaded it ever returning.

“Okay, hold on.” He grinned, bringing the phone closer to his face for a moment.

As he did, you took a moment to admire the beauty of him as a whole. His completion was soft, his skin smooth and more tan than usual from the summer sun. His hair was dry now, the chestnut locks framing his face perfectly, and the mustache that sat atop his lip prompted an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach. He was a man now, so different from the boy you loved with all your heart, but even more fantastic. His brown eyes were breathtaking, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall for him all over again, in a whole new way.

You never stopped loving Jake, but it had always been the version of him you knew before. Now, you felt the feelings blossoming for the newest, most improved version of him, and you knew you were in too deep. There was not a version of Jake you did not love, and sitting and talking to him now after all the time spent away only proved that even further.

Then, amidst a staring contest with him, the screen changed. He was sharing his photo gallery, eager to share all of the memories he’d made over the last few months with you. Your stomach was overtaken with warmth, joyus that even though you left him, there seemed to be no resentment lingering towards you.

“I’ll just show you some pictures from France, because I don’t want to keep you up all night. I know it’s late there, but I can’t help myself.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You promised, knowing you’d suffer a million sleepless nights just to listen to him talk about everything and anything, even if it was nothing important.

“Here’s some pictures of the Eiffel Tower. I know we always used to say we’d visit it someday, and when we were there, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wondered if you ever made it there without me.” Your heart sank despite the sweet sentiments, sad at the prospect of not being there with him and knowing even if you did go on your lonesome, you would have been thinking of the same things. “Not a whole lot to see, really. Here’s a picture of all of us there.” He said, swiping to another one. He zoomed in slightly, allowing you to really see the four of them together.

“Holy shit, Jake.” You breathed, in awe at the sight. “You’re all so grown up. Look at Sammy! He grew his hair out too!” You exclaimed, bringing the phone closer to your face. “Danny, too! They look so different!”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, right? I feel that way every day.” He laughed to himself.

“And you and Josh! It’s so easy to tell you guys apart, now.” You studied the photo for a moment longer. “I mean, not that I ever got confused in high school, but your hair is so long and he changed so much. You’re both so different now.”

“Yeah, we broke free from the twin stereotype a little bit. That’s about the only thing that’s changed, though. He’s still as annoying as ever.”

“Be nice, Jacob.” You teased, remembering the arguments and fights the two used to find themselves in. You never understood how it was so easy for them to bounce back, like the minute it was over it seemed as if nothing ever happened at all.

“To him? Never.” He scoffed, swiping to a new picture. “We went to the Louvre, too. I didn’t get as many pictures as I wanted, but I have a few at least. Maybe I’ll go back someday.”

Maybe you could go with him.

You shook the thought from your head, knowing it was a ridiculous idea and that you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up so soon.

“You used to say my picture would end up in there someday.” A small smile blossomed on your lips, the sweet memory coming back to you in a flash.

“And I still believe it.” He said without missing a beat, almost as if he was thinking the same exact thing. “Nothing in there could compare to you, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, your lungs forgetting how to breathe for a moment as the compliment took hold. He paused for a second, seemingly focusing on you in the little rectangle in the corner of his screen. “Are you… are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, completely pulled from the moment as his mind begged him to ask. Your gaze fluttered downwards, a look of confusion on your face as you studied the faded logo on the front. There was still a hint of blue vinyl clinging to the chest, cracked and peeling from years of use.

“No?” You said, your eyebrows furrowed together. “This is mine.” You deducted, never recalling a time where the shirt wasn’t in your possession. The Eagles were your favorite band, and the greatest hits album cover that used to decorate the front was your favorite album of all time. For years, you wore it to bed every night, never once thinking anything of it.

It was your shirt.

Right?

“No, it’s not.” He laughed, a sparkle of amusement shining in his eye. “I got that in the ninth grade. For my birthday, from Sam.” He continued, his head cocked to the side. “I always wondered where that went.”

“Jake, this is my shirt!” You argued, flustered that he was so certain it wasn’t. “I’ve worn it to bed almost every night since like, the tenth grade!” As the words left your lips, the realization hit you full force. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open in shock, and you took one last look down at the worn black material of the shirt.

“Yeah, since the tenth grade.” He reiterated, another laugh stuck in his throat. “You seriously thought that was your shirt?”

“Yeah, I did.” You squeaked, your cheeks red in embarrassment. “I just wore it for so long, I guess I never thought much of it.”

“Okay, wait.” He said, now more intrigued than before. “You don’t also happen to have an old Gibson shirt? A black one with a big circle logo and a Les Paul?” You swallowed hard, guilt written clear as day across your features. “You’re a thief!” He laughed, clearly unbothered and finding more amusement about it than you did.

“I can’t be a thief if I didn’t know they were yours!” You defended yourself, a smile tugging at your lips, too.

“I don’t think that matters, sweetheart. Been wondering where the hell those went for years!” His smile was blinding, taking over his cheeks and eyes as he solved a mystery you didn’t know existed.

“Okay, well, do you want them back?” You giggled, growing more comfortable with the fact as he continued to joke about it.

No wonder those shirts had always been your favorite.

“No, sunshine. They’re all yours.” He assured you. “Think it would make me the bad guy if I took them back after so long.”

“Not if they’re yours.” You explained, feeling your smile grow wider as you spoke.

“S’okay, love. They look better on you than they ever did on me.” He said, a note of finality in his voice. “What else did you steal from me?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” You huffed, your cheeks rosy as you tried your best to defend your honor. “Can we get back to these pictures, already?”

“Right,” he hummed, smirking at your flustered face. “Sure, let’s get back to the pictures.” He said, bringing his attention back to his photo gallery.

“Thank you.” You snipped, sassiness dripping from your tone. “Rockstar like you could buy a million Eagles shirts. So concerned about this one.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Yeah, because it’s mine!” He argued, his laugh echoing through his hotel room. “A very thoughtful gift from my dear brother, at that.”

“Photos, Jake!” You giggled, pointing at the screen to draw his attention back to the task at hand.

“Fine.” He grumbled, but you could tell he was teasing. “Anyway, we went to the Château de Chambord, a real life fuckin’ castle, sunshine. It was so beautiful, and it had an actual moat.” He swiped through a few pictures, letting you get a good look at each one. You couldn’t help but notice the tugging of your heartstrings as he spoke French, realizing that he really had grown up and learned so much. He was still your Jake, just ever so slightly different.

“Wow,” you breathed, enthralled in the architecture of the building. “That’s so cool, Jake.”

“Right?” He grinned. “We went to visit a few, but we didn’t have as much time as I would have liked. I can’t wait to go back and see all of the stuff I missed out on.”

“There’s lots of time, bug.” You assured him. “I’m sure you’ll find yourself back there, someday.”

“I’ll bring you with me, so you can see it all, too.” He said, his tone ensuring that you knew he was making a promise. Your eyes fluttered closed, your brain already fantasizing about traveling the world with him by your side. A long time ago, it seemed like a far-fetched dream, but now it seemed like it could be a reality. Even if things were different than they used to be, the possibility of living all of the dreams you once had was still alive. “You should see the cathedrals, sunshine. They’re breathtaking. The pictures don’t even do it justice.” He explained, swiping through to more photos.

You watched, in awe of the beauty of the world that you’d never seen before. You were so proud of him, and you were so happy for him. He was living a life he loved, doing the very things he loved, with the people he loved. You once believed Jake would find happiness in another woman, someone lying next to him at night, someone to love him the way you once did. The thought hurt you, but you never once believed that he would not go in search of that to be happy. He was too lovable to avoid love. Instead, he found it in music and travel, and spending time with his brothers. He found it in every city, and every stage under bright lights, playing guitar until his fingers ached and he couldn’t possibly go on. He found happiness in life, rather than a person, like you secretly hoped he would. More importantly, he waited for you as he searched for that happiness.

You listened as he explained each sight, raving about his favorite things about each one. You adored the scenery, but you couldn’t help but feel more excited to see the pictures that he was in, because to you, he was the most beautiful sight of all. The smile on his face, the way the sun kissed his skin, and the long forgotten feeling of home every time you looked his way. Everything about him was breathtaking, and you knew you were long past the point of no return. You were just as enamored with him as you were years ago, and the nagging feeling seemed to persist despite you trying to shove it down. Worst of all, you’d fallen for Jake as he was now, rather than for the reminiscence of the relationship you once had.

Part of you worried that if you ever crossed paths again, you would hate the newest versions of each other. You feared that after so long and so much change, the two of you would lose any common ground you once had and you would simply be strangers passing by. Now, that fear was obsolete, replaced with a brand new, more powerful one; you clicked just as well as you did when you were young and in love, and now you couldn’t possibly force yourself to get over him.

No matter what, even if Jake was never yours again, you knew you would always be his. At eighty years old, stuck in a nursing home, if he was not taking up the physical space beside you, he would be taking up every single spot in your heart and soul.

So, you still loved him, and you were overjoyed to talk to him after so long, but it did not make the hurt any easier. Now, you were face to face with your love for him, with the knowledge he traveled the world for a living and resided in a completely different state. Just like it was all those years ago, the world didn’t seem to want the two of you together. Distance was always your worst enemy, and you felt the same as you did when he helped you pack up your car and saw you off to school. Loving Jake from a distance was worse than torture, and letting him go was excruciating. You did not know how to make it work, but you did not know how to stop loving him.

You reopened a wound you spent so long sewing shut, and now you were bleeding yourself dry for a chance to have him in your life again.

As he was explaining a picture of The Arc de Triomphe, your attention was pulled away from his voice by a text notification flashing at the top of his screen. You hated to be nosy, and you didn’t want to intrude, but the temptation was too much to resist. You read the words as they flashed across the screen, your heart pounding as your mind was taken by fear. You dreaded seeing something you shouldn’t, more specifically from someone he neglected to tell you about, but as you continued to read the text, you understood that all Jake had said to you was the utter truth.

Josh - 12:13pm

How’s it going? Are you still talking to her??

Josh - 12:14pm

I hate to break up the happy reunion, but we’re waiting for you in the lobby

Josh - 12:14pm

Tell her I said hi

He was pushing back plans to talk to you? Jake Kiszka, the boy everyone dreams of having, was neglecting to explore Italy just to catch up with you?

So many thoughts were running through your head, your heart aching at the prospect of him caring about you so much even after so much time had passed. You had pegged him as a man who moved on, one who had forgotten about you and erased your memory from his mind. You forced yourself to believe he didn’t care, and that you were the fool for being so caught up on him. You wanted to believe those things as the truth, in hopes to make it easier for you to forget and move forward, but it only ever seemed to make it hurt worse. Now, you knew why, and it was because he never stopped caring about you, not even for a second. He was a man who loved so deeply and so much, and he continued to love you the same way even when you completely disappeared from his life.

He loved you so much still that he had to talk to his brother about it before he replied to you, your message seemingly turning his world upside down like the mixtape had done to you.

How could you ever force yourself to forget him again? How, after such a sweet conversation that eased the constant ache in your chest, could you walk away and leave this behind again?

“Fuckin’ Josh.” He grumbled, aware that you’d seen the message too. He didn’t seem concerned over the fact you’d read it, but rather that he had to force himself away from you.

“Jake, I didn’t know you had plans. You didn’t have to keep talking to me.” You frowned, saddened that you distracted him from bigger and better things.

“Are you kidding, sunshine? I know I didn’t have to.” He replied, his face back in the camera view as he stopped sharing his screen. “I wanted to talk to you. There’s never a time when I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I just… go and explore. You’re in Italy, Jake. Don’t waste your time on me.”

“Sunshine, you have never been a waste of my time.” He said, his tone firm and his statement final. “Italy has nothing on you.” At that, you felt the need to cry all over again. What had you ever done to deserve someone as perfect as him? What did you ever do to deserve a love so genuine and kind?

“And you’ve never been a waste of my time, Jake. Not even for a second.” You whispered, your tone wavering under the threat of tears. “I wish we did this sooner. I missed you so fucking much.”

“I could tell you every day for the rest of my life, and I’m still certain you would never know how much I missed you, angel.” You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to avoid crying in front of him again. You knew he had to go, but the thought of silence after hearing the sound of his voice was devastating. You never wanted to let it go, and you never wanted to be away from him again.

“You should go, they’re waiting on you.” You couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason he missed out on anything ever again. You couldn’t be selfish and keep him from such fantastic things, even if the idea of hanging up the phone was gut wrenching. You would suffer in silence if it meant he could be happy, even if it was just for a moment.

“If I go, will you still be here when I get back?” His voice was soft, afraid of something he couldn’t survive a second time. You knew what he meant; you would not be in his hotel room, nor would you see him in person. He was wondering if you would still be present, if you would answer the phone again if he called. He was terrified that if he walked away, you would disappear on him again.

“Yes, bug.” You promised. “Never again. I’ll never leave you again.” And it was the truth; you could not be the one to walk away again, unless he was telling you to. His love was too euphoric to deny, and his company made the world seem right again. You couldn’t imagine shutting him out like you did once before, and you would never let yourself do it again.

“Thank you for calling, sunshine.” He said, the utmost sincerity in his voice. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear your voice.” You did, because you needed to hear his just as bad.

“Thank you for answering.”

“I don’t want to go.” He confessed, his face sad as he thought about hanging up. There was still so much to say, so much to catch up on, so much love to give after holding yourselves back.

“Me, either.” You muttered.

“Can I text you?” He asked, hopeful despite the sadness seeming to plague him.

“Please do.” You breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from his face. You knew it was wrong, and you knew under no circumstances should you say it aloud, but love was dancing on the tip of your tongue. Despite your age and the time between your last encounter, nothing seemed to change for you. You felt just as strongly, and just as deeply for him. “Send me more pictures. Tell Josh I said hi. Tell everyone I said hi.”

“I will, sunshine.” He promised.

“Okay.” You nodded, grief-stricken at the prospect of saying goodbye.

“No goodbyes.” He said, sharply as if he was reading your mind. It was never that deep, but he was thinking the exact same thing. “I’m not saying goodbye to you—I never want to say goodbye to you again.”

“See you soon?” You offered the alternative, much more comfortable with that rather than a goodbye.

“Yeah,” he breathed, giving a single nod. “See you soon, sunshine.”

“Okay.” You squeaked, feeling paralyzed with sadness as you raised your hand to hit the end call button.

“Hey,” he said, holding on to the moment for a second longer. You raised an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat as you realized he was dreading the end as much as you were.

“Yeah?”

“You look wonderful tonight, sweetheart.” A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips. The small little statement sent you to shambles, your stomach plummeting and your heart breaking. “If I was there, I’d slow dance in that kitchen with you all over again.”

“Whenever you want to, Jake. You know where to find me.” You grinned, your cheeks pink in the pale light from the lamp beside you.

“I do, and I will, sunshine.” He hummed. He knew that no matter how many miles separated you or how many years stood between you, he would always find you, and he would love you just the same. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, Jake.” You promised, taking one last look over his face as the call disconnected.

You let out a long sigh, finding yourself frozen in place long after he disappeared from sight. You stared at his contact, already tempted to dial his number again so you could hear his voice. He was just as beautiful as you remembered him, and just as sweet as he was when you were kids. Most of all, he still loved you in the same way you loved him, which was the most comforting and heartbreaking realization of all.

You locked your screen, giving Ozz a small scratch behind the ear as you thought of everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. Your life, although the same, was completely different and in a way that you always dreamed it would be. Even if he wasn’t technically yours again, he was back in your life, and that was the most important thing. You did not know how you survived without his presence, and you knew for a fact you couldn’t do it a second time.

“This is crazy, right?” You asked the sleeping cat on your chest. “I’m crazy. Am I dreaming?” You continued, listening to him purr away, completely unaware of any of the struggle you were facing. You were crazy for many reasons, but right now the most pressing one was because you were talking to a cat who could not possibly respond to your ridiculous questions. “No way Jake still feels the same way. That’s insane. I’m insane for even thinking it.” You rambled to no one other than yourself, mulling over the idea in your mind. Still, even as you tried to denounce it, you felt crazier for trying to prove it wrong. You had never known Jake as anything other than genuine, and after all he said to you on the call, it was hard to believe he wasn’t being truthful.

You let your head fall back against the couch cushion, exhausted but unable to bargain with the idea of sleep. Your mind was completely consumed with thoughts of Jake, reminding you of all of the nights spent lying awake in your dorm bed. It was so easy for him to become the most important thing to you, and so difficult to think of anything other than him. You knew all too well that even if you did drift off to sleep, you would find yourself stuck in a dream about loving him the way you so badly wanted to.

You were so caught up in thought that you didn’t even hear the creak of the floorboards on the stairs, nor the footsteps echoing down the hallway. Only when a body presented itself beside you on the couch were you broken from the mess of memories plaguing you.

“Hey.” The soft voice spoke, familiar and comforting to you as you listened. “What are you doing awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, figured as much when I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” Mel chuckled, relaxing into the couch the same as you were. You could tell she was much less awake than you, sleep still trying to force her eyelids closed as she spoke. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”

You stayed silent for a moment, staring out the large windows of the living room into the front yard. The street lights illuminated the area, working in time with the moon to create a melancholy feeling as you watched the light wind tickle the grass. There was so much you wanted to talk about, but so little time. Even if you did, you feared it wouldn’t ease the ache in your chest. Worst of all, you thought it might make it worse. Still, Mel was your best friend, and she had never let you down before. Most of the time, she helped you make sense of the mess in your head, giving you a little more clarity and helping to carry the burden of your sadness.

“I texted Jake last night.” Your voice broke through the silence of the sleeping house, the words quiet but landing with an impact that shook the foundation.

“Oh,” she said, intrigued at the thought. “Did he answer?”

“Yup.” You gave a bleak nod. “And apparently he’s been waiting six years to hear from me.” She stayed silent for a moment, already knowing how taxing that thought was to you. “Turns out he still feels the same. He feels the same way I do.”

“So there were a few texts.” She deducted.

“Worse.” You scoffed. “He called me. We’ve been on the phone for the last few hours.” You paused, closing your eyes to rid yourself of the guilt hanging over your head. “He’s even prettier than I remember.”

“Do I have permission to stalk his instagram, now?” She asked, easing the tension with humor. You gave a slight chuckle, nodding your head.

“Sure, Mel. He’s still playing music, too. He made it, and I’m so proud of him. He’s in Italy right now, on tour.”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes widened in surprise, pulling her phone from her pocket. “That’s insane.”

“Yeah, truly.” You smiled, but it wasn’t insane to you. You always knew he had what it takes. You always knew he would make it. There were a lot of feelings surrounding your relationship and Jake as a whole, but doubt of him and his talent and his drive was never one of them. The two of you fell into a silence as you watched over her shoulder, typing names into the search bar to find a picture of the man you were so desperately in love with. “Can I… can I tell you about the second song?” You asked, Jake’s last words hanging heavy over you as you recalled the slow dance in the kitchen. Her eyes flickered to you, and you watched as she slowly lowered her phone to her lap.

“Of course, Y/N.” She nodded. “Talk away. I want to hear all about it.”

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