#i don’t even use Spotify it really is just for you guys
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asteria7fics · 3 months ago
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AHHHHH A MEGA PLAYLIST FOR US??? YOU SHOULDNT HAVE
-😨
Eeeehehehe anything for you guys!! My favorite goobers ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
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corset · 1 year ago
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Yeah alright real
#My favorite part about being a system is that I literally don’t remember ever listening to some of the songs in my top songs playlist#Like I do remember listening to suicideboys a lot and that part isn’t surprising in general but apparently my top listening month for them#was in January and like. I flat out do not remember January through April#I remember December and May through now but January through April is gone#At this point I was apparently also listening to a ton of the Prodigy which I would not have even vaguely guessed to be in my top 5 artists#this year ?#I expected my genres to land about how they did and I expected the Voidz in my top 5 and in particular the song Alien Crimelord#Most of my songs aren’t even songs I listened to on repeat because I liked them but songs that skewed my results because I got really#obsessed with a 30 second portion of them and wanted to hear The Sounds over and over for stimming purposes#I used to fix this with private session but I didn’t touch it once this year so now there’s a bunch of random semi unexpected shit in my#playlist. Ah the Spotify#The majority I definitely just listening to over and over though like I cannot deny my love of semi cringy tiktok phonk rap. You guys go#got me there. I am a phonk enjoyer. Moondeity IS in my top 5 artists#listened*#Like I honestly expected I Monster to be in my top 5 and I also expected more songs by Air to be in the wrapped playlist but they weren’t at#all#One of my top 5 genres is gothic rock because I listened to a ton of it this year but there are like no songs from that genre in the wrapped#playlist#I somehow listened to Vivien by Crosses more than Pillars by Sunny Day Real Estate but if memory serves (which it admittedly often does Not)#that sounds Wrong???
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fingertipsmp3 · 5 months ago
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Also I have managed to sunburn one arm and both knees 👍🏻
#i hope they peel at least. it won’t be worth it if they don’t peel#i didn’t do this on purpose i just couldn’t find my sunscreen and thought ‘well i won’t be out there that long and how strong can the sun#really be at 4pm’ (<- idiot)#i’m fine. it doesn’t hurt. it’s just REALLY red and looks stupid#and THEN i found my sunscreen way in the back of the shower shelf fuck my life#need to put a kit together for tomorrow so that i don’t get burnt again and also don’t have to keep running in and out the house for shit#sunscreen; sunglasses; kindle; correct attire (i got changed THREE times because i was overheating in my leggings and then my dungarees kept#giving me wedgies); water bottle w/ ice cubes (i’m not using my insulating bottle because it has a straw and i don’t trust any of these bugs#not to kamikaze down it just to die in my drink); breadsticks bc they don’t melt; camping chair; cushions; step stool (i am not dragging#an ottoman out there)#oh and tissues and nasal spray because we already know my allergies are going to go absolutely ballistic#and my earbuds because at the first sign of a nice day my neighbours immediately start acting like it’s the last days of rome#i woke up the other day to an absolute cacophony. tell me why one of my neighbours pulled up to his house with a tractor and THREE terriers#i live in the suburbs mind you. these dogs weren’t even barking in sync. i was so disorientated#this is without mentioning the guy earlier who seemingly was strimming for THREE HOURS#i don’t know what type of weeds you have but it’s never that serious#thank you to whoever posted the library ambiance playlist on spotify because i don’t know how i would ever read words otherwise#at least those shitty kids seem to have gone#they never seemed to go to school or anything they were just in the back garden from 8am to 6pm daily making ambulance noises#maybe the landlord evicted them for this. god knows#anyway if you need me i’m going to try to fix my sleeping pattern#personal
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alittlebitofsainz · 7 months ago
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- just don’t want your friends to see -
prompt: “said you needed me, wanted to be with me, just don’t want your friends to see”
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: the pressure of keeping the relationship a secret is getting to you both. is he ashamed of you? (everyone needs a little soft and reassuring lando in their lives every now and then)
a/n: can be considered a lil’ part two to told her you were just a friend. lyrics from ‘you to you’ by maisie peters :)
masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection
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“hey, you guys, hope you haven’t been waiting long!”
your head turned to follow the sound of the voice, seeing max and his girlfriend pietra approaching, a few minutes late for lunch. you noticed lando doing the same, his fingers immediately disentangling from your own as soon as he spotted them, your hand feeling empty without his clasped around it as he took a step away from you. you knew you should be used to it by now, you’d both agreed that this was for the best, keeping your relationship in the shadows, locked behind closed doors. I want this relationship to be just ours, he’d said. it had sounded nice at the time, poetic, even, and you’d agreed, maybe a little too eagerly. but as you sat at lunch with max and pietra, perched awkwardly on the edge of your seat so as not to seem too close to lando, listening to him laugh off questions about his romantic life and saying he hadn’t really met anyone special yet - you had to admit that it stung. it stung the same way it did every time, and you found yourself unnaturally quiet throughout the meal, eyes flicking between person to person as the conversation continued around you.
if you’d thought it had gone unnoticed by lando, you thought wrong.
“baby, everything okay?”
even the pet name stung, the façade of ‘friendship’ falling by the wayside as soon as you made it back to lando’s apartment. just the two of you, a safe space, away from prying eyes and listening ears. you could be in a relationship again, having put it on pause for the time you were out in public.
you looked up, trying to plaster a fake smile across your face, the expression faltering slightly at the edges.
“yeah, fine. just tired, that’s all.” came your reply. but lando wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind, either. you tried to escape through to the kitchen, but he wasn’t having any of that.
“y/n, I know you. I can tell you’re not fine. talk to me, please.”
the gentleness of his voice coaxed you to be honest, letting out a sigh as you turned to lean against the kitchen counter, facing him. you couldn’t quite meet his eyes, almost embarrassed. you’d both agreed on this - why were you suddenly feeling so upset about it all? you knew lando loved you, appreciated you, but something about the way he acted when the two of you were out in public, around colleagues, around friends, even, that just got to you.
“are you embarrassed of me?”
the words left your mouth before filtering through your brain first, and you regretted them immediately; the way lando’s face fell, pain and guilt etched across his features - you swore you would never forget it, and you never wanted to see it again.
“no, no. fuck, y/n, I could never be embarrassed of you.” his voice was strained as he took several paces towards you across the kitchen, casting a cautious gaze over you as he tried to decide whether to give you space or comfort. you felt emotions bubble up inside you, ones you’d been trying to keep hidden for months, for the sake of your relationship. you’d always worried that if you caused a fuss or spoke about your emotions in any way, it would push lando away. why would he want someone who was such a problem when he could have pretty much anyone he wanted? it was irrational and you knew it, but keeping it inside for so long, unable to talk to anyone about it…? well, it had festered in your mind until it had taken over.
“I just feel like that’s why you don’t wanna tell your friends about me…” you eventually said, voice coming out as more of a whimper than you’d intended. lando closed the remaining space between you, hesitating for split second before taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours imploringly.
“baby, I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that.” his voice was firm, filled with conviction and sincerity, but also tinged with a hint of emotion, upset that he’d ever hurt the person in his life that he cared the most about, “I swear, I never meant to. I’m so sorry.”
“it’s just difficult.” you murmured in reply, relishing the feeling of your hands being in his once again as you dropped your gaze down to look at them. “I feel like I’m always acting in public, like I can’t relax. and I can’t even talk to anyone about it.”
“I wish you’d talk to me.” lando’s voice was equally as quiet as yours, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but relax just a little, fears of pushing him away by being too honest dissipating by the second. he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, and it was only when he brushed a thumb across your skin to wipe away a tear that you realised you’d started crying.
“really?” you blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”
he took your face in both hands, eyebrows curved up into a soft frown. “why would you think that? is it… is it something I said? something I did?” you could tell he meant it genuinely, but it made you realise just how irrational you were being. nothing lando had ever said or done had given you any indication that he wouldn’t want to hear your thoughts, your concerns, the things that made you upset. you were still navigating things, but you were beginning to realise that this was someone who you could really open up to. someone who cared about you. you shook your head, brushing away your own tears with the palm of your hand, letting out a wet chuckle.
“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid.” you admitted, but now it was lando’s turn to shake his head.
“you weren’t being stupid.” he murmured, dropping his hands from your face and instead wrapping them around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he placed delicate kisses to the top of your head. “nothing you feel is stupid. it’s not easy keeping us a secret, trust me, I know.” he sighed, resting his chin on your head as he held you close. “I’m not embarrassed of you, y/n, I’m just trying to protect you. people… they can be pretty crazy when it comes to people I date. I just wanna keep you away from that just a little longer.”
you nodded into his chest. deep down, you knew that. you just needed to hear it from him. you let out a soft, contented sigh, the sound mirrored by lando as he tightened his grip round you just a little. he didn’t want to lose you, especially not over something like this, a fact he told his mum on the phone later that night as he finally told her all about you.
the final part is out now :)
a smau based on this fic is out now :)
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bbyobbyo · 5 months ago
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You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.
content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol
wc: 1.6k
note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe
[read pt.2 here!]
Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.
Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.
In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.
Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.
-
You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.
Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.
You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.
[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it
[8:06 am] Do what????
[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁
[8:07 am] 👍👍👍
You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?
Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.
-
Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.
Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.
He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.
-
Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.
It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.
“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.
Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.
Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.
As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.
As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.
-
Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.
Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.
“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.
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solitude4chiron · 1 year ago
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Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE
He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK
He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5
“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”
“Never even played.”
“NIGGA WHAT?”
Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done
“How many do you have left?”
“Boy move that damn hand.”
Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”
“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”
“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”
Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball
Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food
Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes
“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”
“Y’all use that shi?”
“who df are you bro…”
Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 
Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)
Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs
Hobie: Attachment: 1
disgusting creatures…
Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house
Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs
“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”
“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”
“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”
Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)
On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)
Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist
Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”
“Yo, were you stealing back there?”
“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”
“Nevermind.”
Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.
Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.
He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks
After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.
“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”
“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”
• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.
“imma get bro good this time..”
“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”
• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.
• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.
“Are you playboi carti?!”
“Bruv.”
over.
“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”
“bru…”
and over.
“you Opium?”
“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”
and over again.
• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.
“you good young’n?”
“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”
“that’s cool too”
• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.
• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around
• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.
• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.
anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛
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skzstoryvault · 2 months ago
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Impromptu (Hyunjin, spicy)
Snippet I wrote on the fly
Hyunjin x f!reader
Warnings: smut, athletic sex, Hyunjin has a big dick but knows how to use it, dancer stamina, multiple orgasms
If this is not your thing, please scroll on.
If you're a minor, please scroll on, this is not for you yet.
Please be kind.
If you enjoy the read, please leave a comment or reblog with a few words of your own.
The song you're singing in the beginning is "Van Gogh" by Mette.
***
“... I could be Van Gogh, shorty you could be my muse!” You sang, remembering the tune Spotify played you this morning in the car on the way to work.
No one was in sight, the idols were all practising and the admin folks had a big assembly kind of meeting in the conference room upstairs. You were the only one on your floor and for a moment you allowed yourself to forget you were at work and dared to have a good time. 
“Having a good day, I hear.”
You could recognise that nasal voice anywhere, but you didn’t have to, because its owner, the beautiful Hwang Hyunjin, walks up to you from behind a wall separating two corridors.
“Is it against the rules? Is it even a breach if no one’s here to be bothered by my off key singing?”
“I didn’t think it was off key. I thought it was really cute. You suits always look so stern and distant. Must be all the numbers you deal with.” He offers. 
“Thank you. I didn’t mean to mock you guys and your talent… I just…”
“Hey you were feeling yourself, you’re allowed to have a good time, and not everything is about us.” Hyunjin says, watching you curiously. “Have you done something new to your hair?”
“Uh, yes, I was a brunette until last week. Bleached it all out to grow my natural hair out.”
“It’s striking. I like it.” He says, leaning close to you. Very close.
“Are you sniffing me?”
“Yes, you’re wearing a nice perfume. And I don’t usually like perfume.” 
“It’s not a perfume,” you say. “It’s my overnight deo.”
It’s a foreign notion to Koreans, since their sweat doesn’t stink so they don’t use deodorants. To prevent smelling like a dead horse under the scorching summer sun, you use an overnight deo which smells almost identical to the original smell of Nivea cream. Clean and comforting, but not harsh on the olfactory nerves. 
“Mmm, I love it. Do you have time to go for coffee with me?”
“Sure.”
“My treat. Americano ok?”
***
One thing led to another, but you don’t know exactly how. You just know you somehow made it back home and you’re in the shower, with Hyunjin, and you can still feel his plush, soft lips all over your body, although now they’re on your clit, sucking at it like there’s medals being given out.
You look down, and you nearly pass out. This is a god, and he’s currently on his knees on your shower floor, the water soaking him all over and of course making him at least 10% hotter than usual. He’s looking at you with hunger and adoration, and that’s the kind of look people reserve for their new spouses on their honeymoon, where fucking is the only thing on the agenda. 
His hands are spreading you so he can eat you better, suck on parts of you you normally don’t even know you have, let his tongue sneak and curl into folds and crevices no one ever sees, let alone touches.
You’re like an abandoned house whose owner died a while ago and he’s an heir rummaging around the place for hidden treasures the will might have overlooked. 
He dries you and himself, only enough to not leave puddles and ruin the sheets. 
You want to cry - the sharp, almost frightening pleasure he’s giving you highlights how neglected and starved for touch and attention you’ve been. But no tears come, drowned out by the waves and waves of pleasure making your abs twitch and contract sharply - right before he pulls a squirting orgasm out of you.
“I could do this all day,” he says, his face now dripping wet too and smiling. “I want more.” 
You also feel as though it would be a crime to turn him down. Suddenly grow a moral compass when faced with having him between your thighs. That’s the kind of thing you’d regret on your deathbed. 
Once in your bedroom, he smiles at the cat-print bedsheets.
“Cute. I hope you have spares.” Is his comment, and you feel your womb squeeze in arousal at the idea. Fuck.
You normally don’t do this, you know better than to fuck people from work, and you definitely feel bad at the idea of riding the dick carousel like some men so grossly put it. You’re worried that Hyunjin thinks of you as a whore now, but until half an hour ago you thought he was gay, so maybe your thoughts aren’t the most reliable source of reality. 
You are too ashamed to tell him you love it when he fucks you with just his fingers, but he can likely tell from how slippery you get. You also get surprised by your second orgasm, it’s so easy and so good, different in feeling than the first but still leaving you boneless and floating, while still somehow clinging to Hyunjin and begging him not to stop. 
He takes his time bringing you to a low simmer, the warmth from his kisses and touches seeping under your skin as he again takes his sweet time getting to know every corner of you. Normally, guys are in a hurry to put it in so they can start feeling good for the thirty seconds it takes them to nut.
Hyunjin is truly a god, or one of God’s favourite creations. Even sweating and panting above you, with his hair clinging to his face and neck, he looks straight out of Vogue. 
He kneels up and pulls you in his lap, watching closely as his cock spreads you open, biting his lips and throwing his head back when he feels wrapped in your snug heat. 
“F-fuck, this is that thing. Better than anything else.” He says, and you feel like the words aren’t meant for you. Still, you agree.
Hyunjin is hung and you thought you’d never care either way. But he knows what he’s working with and how to make it pleasurable without causing pain and discomfort first, and that’s sexier than any inch number.
It hits you that you let him hit without a condom, but your insurance does cover emergency contraception. You don’t even fuck enough to need a steady form of birth control, so you’re not as worried. Plus, you know he’s clean, you see all the idols’ personal data at work. 
He holds you through it and comes more like an afterthought, awed at how much he was able to get you off. 
Somehow, the position he has you in, in his lap so he can thrust up into you, with your legs and arms around him, is also helping him last for ages, until the point where he pulls out and turns you around. At first you think he’s just going to hit it from the back, but he pushes you flat on your belly, spreading your cheeks and pushing back in.
You hear him lick something and then you feel the slick pad of his thumb rub across your asshole, which wrings another release from you, making you writhe beneath him like a fish on dry land. He rolls off you to one side, pulling you with him without even pulling out, and lifts your upper leg so he can touch you more, his fingers stroking your clit while he’s still moving inside you.
It’s too much, too much sensation at once after so long going without - he makes you squirt again, and this time you burst into tears too. Your body tries to push his cock out but he keeps moving inside you, making you shake and sob through the almost unbearable pleasure. 
You’re convinced that when you wake, after he’s finally in the mood for some cuddles, you will find him gone, only to have a very awkward year of random bumping into each other at the JYPE offices. 
You still barely believe it. 
But Hyunjin stays. He stays the night, the week, the month, the year and then, finally, the day he stands before you with a ring in a fancy box. 
240 notes · View notes
kenobers · 2 months ago
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Jason Todd Headcanons
just a few thoughts that help inform the way i write this doof. it's linked below as well, but check out jason's spotify wrapped if you have a minute! ;-)
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Samsung User
Jason says he likes his coffee dark, but secretly orders flavored lattes (see that one Hozier photo)
Puts cinnamon in his coffee grounds
He may have good taste in books, but he's got shit taste in movies
Loves a few basic safe picks - Fight Club, Pulp Fiction, things you might expect from someone like him
But his "Watch Again" list is all cheesy action movies and wacky comedies. Mark Wahlberg appears a little too often.
Doesn’t watch a lot of television, but sometimes likes to fall asleep to Family Guy or South Park
Has one ear piercing he got on a dare, done by either one of his brothers or one of the Outlaws
Good gift giver, but only wraps things in newspaper
Really terrible about remembering to take his medication
To the point that Dick and Tim got him one of those every day of the week pill boxes as a joke - but it's actually been incredibly helpful
Is a regular at his neighborhood corner store
To the point where the guys at the counter don’t even card him anymore
He's the type of man to sleep till noon, 1:30 on Sundays
If he's sharing a bed, he will snuggle up to you in his sleep
Snores
Unfortunately uses 3-in-1 shampoo/conditioner/body wash
Has an high tolerance for weed, which annoys the hell out of him because he enjoys a joint but does not fuck with edibles
Every time he tries an edible, he stares at himself in the mirror for three hours and Does Not like it
Drunk Yapper
Beer Drinker
Doesn't always know his own strength
Not in the accidentally-break-someone's-arm type of way, but definitely in the sometimes-closes-the-door-too-hard-and-goes-"whoopsie daises!" type of way
Thankfully, he's become a pretty great handy man
Despite being a certified Car Guy, he did die at 15 and as a consequence is lowkey still how to drive a none military grade car (in other words, he's a shit driver) (but it's okay, he sticks to the motorcycle and public transportation)
He's not a hugger, but he is a leaner
Thrifts all of his clothes
Prefers to get his books from local indie/second-hand/new & used bookstores
But still has a Barnes & Nobles membership card
His bookshelf is not organized what-so-ever; it's started to operate as more of a gun rack while his books get stacked underneath his bed (he tells himself that this will make him get through his To Be Read list faster)
His top played song of last year was “Kiss Me Through The Phone” by Soulja Boy
His music taste can be divided into three primary playlists; East Coast Rap, Metal, Ear Worms
Is the family expert on the Gotham underground music scene
He isn’t big on social media at all, but he has a Twitter with like 15 followers he uses to keep an eye on whoever
(and also to keep up with music and book updates)
He’s occasionally very funny on it. But just occasionally.
Just Online enough to know who Trisha Paytas is, not Online enough to know who ClubChalamet is
He got his GED once he joined the family again
and yes, they threw him a little party to celebrate
Has the BatChat on silent, but still checks it regularly
Terrible texter; you’ll either hear back from him immediately or in three weeks time
“srry didn’t see this”
(he did see this, he just got anxiety about it)
Has a lot of anxiety about smalls things like that
Especially when it comes to the Bat Family
He’s not always sure where he stands with everyone - if they like him, trust him, want him there
Paranoid that they’re nosy because they secretly think he’s going to go rogue again
Has to constantly remind himself that they’re just nosy the same way that he’s nosy - because this is literally a family of detectives
262 notes · View notes
zepskies · 3 months ago
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Lost on You - Part 3
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Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader
Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.
AN: The tables are about to turn…
Word Count: 3.5K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, drug use (weed smoking), and a bargain struck…
🎙️ Series Masterlist || YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist
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Part 3: A Deal is a Deal
Once you were back from your little excursion, you were relieved to return to the privacy of your room. You dropped heavily down on the bed, face first, with an oof.
Rolling onto your back, you stared up at the white ceiling. Perfectly white. Unbidden, the memories of spending the day with Ben filtered through your mind. You were a little put out to realize you had mostly enjoyed yourself through it all, even though you knew he was only doing it to hook you in. To charm you.
To fuck you.  
But the memory of his cocky grin, the restrained power in his hands whenever he touched you, the feeling of his lips dragging against your skin, and his sinful voice…
Well, pulling away from him had taken more restraint than you’d anticipated. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you sat up and went over to your desk where your phone sat. It was time to check in at home.
You dialed the number from memory and waited as the line rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Dad, it’s me.”
“Oh! Hey, honey. How’s it going over there. You all settled in? Get to do your first save yet?”
“Uh, yeah, I’m good,” you said. “I was meant to do my first save today, but…well, some things didn’t go according to plan.”
“Oh, really?” He sounded disappointed. It carved another small notch in your gut.
“It’s no big deal. I’ll get another chance soon,” you promised.
“Your first save on camera is important for your PR. They can’t wait too long on that,” he said.
You resisted the urge to sigh. You dropped your forehead into your hand, still holding the phone to your ear with the other.
“Yeah, I know,” you said. “Anyway, how’s Mom?”
He sighed. “You know. Good days and bad days. Today…today was a bad day.”
You tugged your lower lip between your teeth. Your brows furrowed with concern, and a familiar ache settled in your chest.
“Can I talk to her?” you asked.
“Ah, I just got her to take her medication. She’s resting now.”
“Okay. Yeah, don’t worry about it then,” you said. “…Do you think you guys will be coming up to visit with Chris this weekend?”
“You know what, I’m sorry, honey. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. All those people,” he said. You were nodding before he finished the thought, even if he couldn’t see you.
“Yeah, it’s okay. They’ve got me pretty busy right now, but I’ll come by and see you guys when I can.”
“All right. Sounds good,” he said. “Oh, before I let you go. I got the latest bills on your mother’s treatments. It’s just, it’s a bit too much for us. Think you could help us out again?”
You paused for a second, but you readily agreed.
“Sure, just let me know how much. I’ll write you a check.”
“Perfect. Thank you, honey.”
“Yeah, of course,” you said. “Um, tell Mom I said hi then. When she wakes up.”
“Aw, I will. Don’t worry. Now, go out there and make some saves!”
Your lips pursed. “Yep, will do.”
When you hung up with your father, you felt even more exhausted than before.
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You had another mission on your schedule, this time with Black Noir, Soldier Boy, and Gunpowder. Your excitement had built all day after Arthur’s assistant Joanna called you with the news.
However, when you got downstairs to the lobby where you were meant to meet the team, you found Crimson Countess in heated discussion with Arthur himself. 
He looked a bit exasperated, but was trying his best to be professional with her. You had a bad feeling about this. 
“I understand, but this is meant to be Sirena’s day,” Arthur said. “We’ll get you and Soldier Boy together on the next one. Just you two, if you guys want.”
“It’s just that Ben and I haven’t done enough together recently. I miss him,” she said, hanging off her boyfriend’s arm. Ben himself seemed to be going along with the idea, looking like he didn’t much care one way or the other. Yet his slight smile looked smug. It likely stroked his ego to have her wanting to be with him for once. 
She even leaned up for a kiss. Ben spotted you out of the corner of his eye. His smile kicked up a notch before he obliged her with a slow kiss.
Your gaze fell to the ground as you swallowed your irritation. It wasn't jealousy, however. You knew exactly what she was doing.
Arthur sighed. He’d noticed you as well. He gave you an apologetic look, but he came over and informed you that it would just be original team members today. Considering the last episode with you and Countess, he thought it best that they didn’t team you up again for your first official save.
Couldn’t agree more, you thought, but it also meant that you wouldn’t be going out with the team today. You’d be losing a prime opportunity to show what you could do and finally get the ball rolling on some good PR.
Countess shot you a wink when she and the rest of the team started to head out. You gave her a fake smile.
Fucking bitch.
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The weekend came, and you had to put on a good face to hide your latent frustrations from your brother, Chris. He and his family had come to visit you, driving over from Queens.
When they arrived in the Tower lobby, you went to them and let your brother pull you into a big bear hug. It brought a genuine grin to your face as you hugged him back. You hadn’t seen him in months.
“Hey, troublemaker,” he said.
“What do you mean? I’ve been on my very best behavior,” you quipped.
He smiled wryly. “I’m sure.”
He pulled back so that Danny, your four-year-old nephew, could run up to you. You bent to his level and gave him a big hug as well.
“Hey, buddy!” you said. “Did you get the action figures I sent you for your birthday?”
“Oh, he did,” said Ellie, your sister-in-law. “To no one’s surprise, Soldier Boy’s his favorite. He sleeps with it under his pillow.”
You laughed a little dryly at that. Danny was a big superhero fan as well, but there was no accounting for taste. Your brother sidled up to you for a conspiring whisper.
“Yeah, about that. Is the big guy busy?” Chris asked. “Because I may have accidentally promised Danny that he’d get to see Soldier Boy today, and he hasn’t shut up about it ever since we started planning this trip. It’s literally the only thing he wants. So maybe now that you’re a famous superhero, you can do your big bro a solid so the kid doesn’t have the world’s most epic meltdown—”
“All right, all right. Shut up,” you said, holding back a laugh. Inside though, you were strained.
Shit.
“Okay, why don’t you guys hang out in the lobby for a bit, check out the gift shop,” you said. “I’ll…see if Soldier Boy isn’t too busy.”
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You braved going up to Ben’s apartment on the penthouse floor, where three beautiful, if scantily clad escorts were just leaving. One of them was stuffing a wad of cash into her bra. Rolling your eyes in disdain, you almost lost your nerve.
This isn’t for you, you reminded yourself. It was for your nephew.
So you knocked on the door.
“Who is it?” you heard from inside.
“It’s me, Sirena.”
There was a pause, but eventually he replied.
“Come in.”
You had some trepidation twisting the knob and opening the door. When you stepped into his suite for the first time, you weren’t surprised to be assaulted by the smell of sex and weed smoke. You waited in the foyer of a lavish space, with shiny marble floors and rich dark wood furniture.
Ben padded out to you barefooted, but at least he was clothed, in a black silk robe no less. He was also smoking a fat blunt.
“What’re you, Hugh Hefner?” you couldn’t help a remark.
Ben grinned around his oral fixation. He blew a coil of dank smoke up into the air.
“Who do you think gave him the whole Playboy idea?” Ben said. He eyed you in your supe suit. “What can I do for you, baby doll? You caught me at a good time. Although, about twenty minutes ago would’ve been even better.”
Hiding your disgust, you waved the gray, musty cloud away from your face.
“Since it’s a good time, I actually wanted to…ask you for a favor,” you said. You knew how dangerous that really was by the way he smiled.
“Okay,” he said expectantly. You released a breath to steady yourself.
“My family’s here visiting, and understandably so, you’re my nephew’s favorite superhero.”
Ben chuckled through his nose, releasing more smoke like a fire breathing dragon.  
“Understandably, huh?”
“Of course,” you said. You made sure your smile seemed sincere. “Look, about what happened last week…I hope you’re not upset with me. I had a lot of fun with you that day, and I’m really grateful that you wanted to show me a good time. To be honest, I’m incredibly flattered that you even noticed me.”
You took a step closer into his orbit, until your chest was inches away from brushing his. He looked down at you. 
“But I know I’m the rookie here. I don’t want to step on any toes, especially Countess’s. I have a feeling she doesn’t like me very much,” you said. Your eyes were half-lidded in demure. 
You were putting on your best performance. He only took half the bait, however. Ben’s mouth quirked at the corner, and he set his blunt on a nearby ashtray.
“I understand,” he said. “So what do want from me?”
Hmm, maybe your rejection had bruised his ego more than you expected. But really, he had to be refusing to break up with Countess for appearance’s sake, because there didn’t seem to be any real love there.
Christ, he wants to have his cake and eat it too.  
“Well, like I said. My nephew is downstairs, and he’d really love to meet you,” you said. “Could you, uh…pretend to be a little more family friendly for a minute and take a quick picture with him?”
Ben frowned, like he was offended. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean? I’m a family guy.”
You raised a brow. Glancing around his apartment, you didn’t see any pictures on the walls, nor had you ever even heard him talk about his family.
“What’s in it for me then?” he asked, crossing his arms.
You blinked your eyes wider. Really?
“I doubt whatever you’re thinking, Soldier,” you said, a little more snidely than you meant to.
Ben’s cocky smile said it all.
Your lips pursed in exasperation. You hadn’t thought you would have to bargain to get him to be nice to a kid. 
“Okay, I’m sorry. Clearly you’ve had a long day, so I’ll just get out of your way,” you said, raising your hands in surrender. You turned to leave.
“All right, don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said.
You paused at the door, tossing him an annoyed look over your shoulder.
His smile deepened. “I’ll do it.”
His steps were measured as he approached you. You turned back to face him, albeit warily. As he seemed to like doing, he gently grasped your chin between his fingers.
“I’ll do it for a kiss,” he said.
You tried to stifle your smile of amusement.
“One kiss?” you clarified.
“One kiss,” he agreed. “That’s harmless, right?”
Unlikely. But it was a bargain you were willing to make. It might even work in your favor.
“Okay,” you nodded, guiding his hand away from your face. “After you hang out with my nephew, for five minutes at least.”
He smirked at you. “You’re a demanding little thing.”
You gave a more impish smile. He then walked away to his bedroom, presumably to get dressed. You hoped he’d take a quick shower as well.
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Ben found you downstairs in the lobby, now cleaned up and dressed in his supe suit. He hammed it up with your family. He was charming with your brother and your sister-in-law, and welcoming to your nephew, calling him young man and sport and pal and recounting an old war story with gusto. 
When it was time to take a picture with Danny, Ben lifted the kid up into his arms, pretending he weighed a ton. It made a normally shy Danny giggle with glee, and Ben playfully held him under his arm so he could ruffle his hair. You noticed some genuine joy on the man’s face.
Afterwards, Danny even unzipped his backpack and showed his hero his collection of action figures. His prize’s possession, of course, was Soldier Boy.
Things were going so well that Chris and Ellie felt comfortable enough to break off and grab some food at the food court, while you stayed with Ben and Danny. They sat on one of the couches in the lounge area, play fighting with the action figures.
“So, got yourself a girlfriend yet?” Ben asked.
When Danny made a face of confusion, you shot the man a pointed glance.
“He’s a kid, Ben.”
He shrugged with a grin. “Fine. A little early for that, huh? Trust me, not for long.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
“What’s your favorite sport to play at school then?” Ben asked.
“Ummm…” Danny thought about the question. He was busy creating a small Lego tower for Swatto to perch on. “Connect 4.”
“Connect 4?” Ben repeated. He shot you a glance, and he leaned over. “Kid ain’t too bright, is he?”
“He’s four years old,” you whispered indignantly. “He’s not exactly getting drafted for the NFL.”
Again, Ben shrugged you off and continued playing with the kid. You had a feeling he was enjoying it more than he’d be willing to admit.
When Chris and Ellie returned with food for you and Danny as well, Ben took it as his cue to duck out of the rest of the family activities.
“Thank you for your time, Soldier Boy,” Chris said, shaking his hand firmly. You knew he was trying to come off as manly as he could. You hid a smirk behind your hand while Ben obliged him with a nod.
“Yes, thanks so much!” Ellie gushed. She’d got a picture on her own with Ben earlier, and Chris had tried to pretend to be okay with the way she’d hung off the supe’s arm with proverbial stars in her eyes.
“You’re very welcome, ma’am,” said Ben, laying a smiling kiss on her hand. You thought her heart might just stop right there.
You sighed and took Ellie by the shoulders. “Okay, why don’t you sit down before you pass out.”
“Good idea,” she said breathily.
“You’re leaving?” Danny asked. He looked up at Ben with big glassy eyes, and he started to cry.
Chris grasped his shoulder and smoothed back his hair. “Aw, buddy. Soldier Boy’s really busy, and it was really nice of him to spend so much time with you.”
You laid a hand on Danny’s other arm. You glanced up at Ben, imploring him with your eyes, though you didn’t exactly know what you were asking for.
With a subtle sigh, Ben relented. He lowered down and took a knee in front of Danny.
“All right, none of that now. There’s two things a man doesn’t do: cry, and take shit from anybody,” he said. You frowned, but before you could say anything, Ben laid a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “I’m not going to forget you, Danny. In fact, I’m really glad I got to meet you today. Because I can tell you’re gonna be a great man someday.”
Danny sniffed, but his tears stopped. He smiled when Ben ruffled his hair again.
Despite yourself, you smiled too as you watched the scene.
Maybe he does have a heart in there somewhere.
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After dinner, you gave your brother and his family a tour of Vought Tower, including your apartment. An hour later, you led them back to the lobby. They had booked a hotel nearby and were planning to see more of the city tomorrow before they went back to Queens.
You were grateful to get some time alone with your brother first, while Ellie took Danny for one last stop at the gift shop. You and Chris sat together in the lounge area.
“Is Dad still asking you for money?” he asked.
You frowned at him. “For Mom’s medical bills. It’s not like it used to be.”
“Okay,” Chris said, glancing away. “It’s just ironic that Mom and Dad can’t really appreciate how far you’ve come, after everything they did to get you here. After everything you did to get here.”
You sighed. They’d had variations of this conversation before, and it never ended well.
“It’s not her fault she got sick,” you said.
“Yeah, it can’t be the pack-a-day she smoked since we were kids.”
“Chris.”
“Well, it didn’t just tickle her lungs and kidneys,” he pointed out. “I swear, our family should’ve been sponsored by the Marlboro Man.”
You shook your head and glared at him. “She’s getting really bad now.”
“Yeah, I know. You weren’t the only one they called asking for money,” he said. He quieted in contemplation.
Despite his attitude, you knew he was hurting. This was just how he dealt with pain—by pretending he didn’t feel it.
Chris eventually sighed, relenting a little as he grabbed your shoulder. “Sorry. I know it’s always been harder on you. I just…they want to pretend like all that other shit never happened, you know?”
You nodded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You didn’t have the energy to get into all that other shit. Not today.
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After you said your goodbyes to your family, you steeled yourself and ventured back up to the penthouse floor. This time when you knocked on Ben’s door, he was properly clothed, now out of his supe suit and wearing a nice shirt tucked into some dark brown slacks. He was halfway to putting on a pale gold Rolex.
He must be going out, you thought.
“Two visits in one day? Boy, do I feel fuckin’ special,” Ben remarked. He offered you a drink, and you accepted. You actually needed something to calm your nerves.
He led you into the living room and made you a vodka soda upon your request. He poured a glass of bourbon for himself. You slipped a finger around the rim of your glass, and you met his expectant gaze.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” you said, “for what you did today.”
You then smiled wryly. “I know it wasn’t without motive, but it made my nephew really happy.”
You took another sip of your drink and set it down on a ledge above the fireplace. It was your turn to look up at him expectantly.
“Okay. A deal is a deal,” you said. “One kiss. I’m sure you’ll make the most of it.”
Ben set down his own glass beside yours. He drew closer, looming over you. You almost felt the warmth of him; you certainly felt his anticipation. Or was that your own?
His head bowed, ever closer. But he stopped just shy of his lips brushing yours.
“Not just yet,” he said. He pulled back from you, making your brows furrow.  
“Not yet?” you asked incredulously.
“Just what I said, sweetheart,” he grinned.
You blinked up at him in confusion, and then in annoyance, though you tried to keep it off your face.
“Must we play this game? Just kiss me,” you said. You grasped his arms in invitation, but he slipped out of your hold.
“I don’t think so,” he said.
“But why?” you asked. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Apparently it is to you, rookie,” Ben said. He stepped back into your personal space, but you held your ground. “So I played nice, like the gentleman I am. But now, it’s gonna be my right to claim my prize when I want to.”
Your lips pursed. So he wanted to change the rules, did he?
You adopted a more magnanimous smile.
“Fine,” you said.
You grabbed your vodka soda and took another poised sip before you slipped it into his hand. Then you turned on your heel and left his apartment.
Ben watched you go with a smirk on his face. He raised his own glass back to his lips. He knew then that no matter what game you were playing at, he’d finally gotten under your skin.
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AN: Ben's pressing his luck, isn't he? 😂 But I think you guys are going to like where we're going next...
(Bet you wondered why a song from Grease was on the music playlist for this series. 😉)
Next Time:
Arthur nodded. “Well, Soldier Boy agrees that you’re impressive. And he’s been chomping at the bit for something new. So, I talked to Madelyn and the rest of the team, and we think you two should do a duet together. A cover.”
You blinked a bit wider. “O-Oh, really? Of what?”
“You remember ‘You’re the One That I Want,’ by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John?”
“From Grease?” you asked with furrowed brows. That movie was like, five years old already. But you did see the previews for a new movie John and Olivia just did together, Two of a Kind. It was set to come out later this year.
“Exactly,” Arthur said, pointing at you. “It could be bigger than the movie!”
You doubted that, but it was still a great opportunity for you. The exact kind you'd been waiting for. There was just one problem.
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 4
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Series Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Soldier Boy Tag List:
If you would like to follow along as I post each chapter, please follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💚
@spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @adoringanakin @rizlowwritessortof @chernayawidow
@midnightmadwoman @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78
@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms
@foxyjwls007 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
@waynes-multiverse @my-stories-vault @syrma-sensei @alwaystiredandconfused @globetrotter28
@mrsjenniferwinchester @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @k-slla @deanbrainrotwritings
@jackles010378 @deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @just-levyy
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@stoneyggirl2 @sl33pylilbunny @spnfamily-j2 @mostlymarvelgirl @artemys-ackles
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264 notes · View notes
vviolets444rroses · 2 years ago
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dating ethan landry
my HEADCANONS <3 :
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SFW only :)
part 2 part 3
👻; he likes to sit on your lap— usually when he’s tired or a little tipsy. but when you’re on his, you’re asleep and he’s wrapped his arms around your waist. he likes to play with your hair too. might even wake up with a braid…
👻; he’s really clingy and hates to be without you (silly silly boy)
👻; he does nothing but follow you around everywhere you go. he claims it’s because he has nothing to do, but he’s super protective
👻; he is always holding your hand when you guys are out. even through a tough crowd, he manages to keep a mean hold on your pinky.
👻; he is constantly worshipping you.
👻; he doesn’t have one specific love language, because he’s all. all except receiving gifts. hates when you spend your money on him (what a sweetie 😊)
👻; his camera roll is mostly you. his storage is completely PACKED because of it. hasn’t deleted a single one since you guys got together.
👻; really really oblivious. a real smartie, but can’t even figure out whenever you want a damn kiss😭
👻; he loves your kisses! he likes to return the favor after you have finished smothering him in them.
👻; he’s obsessed with your body. not even in a sexual way, mostly in the way that he finds you so beautiful. when you’re feeling out of it, he’ll kiss whatever you hate about yourself.
👻; he likes to trace things onto your thighs and stomach when you guys are in bed. or when he’s driving, hand on your thigh 🫶🏼
👻; probably pays for your guys’ shared spotify account.
👻; ^^ sharing airpods when you’re sitting on the couch while you’re reading and he’s doing both of your homework
👻; a little bit of a n!c addict. he goes for the fruity flavors like blue razz or berrymelon.
👻; he loves karaoke dude. all ima say is my humps by black eyed peas…
👻; when he’s at your dorm, you and tara force him to watch chick flicks. after a while, he got used to it and he likes pitch perfect.
👻; when you’re drunk, he won’t sleep all night just to make sure you don’t throw up anywhere but the bin beside you.
👻; when he’s drunk, he’s super touchy and likes to fall asleep on top of you while you’re just trying to help him😭 always calling you pretty and gorgeous.
👻; he sleeps easier when he’s by you. since you guys got together, this man has gotten a better sleep schedule. when you’re out but he’s at home— he can’t sleep. he’s up worrying, tossing, and turning until he knows you’re safe and sound in his arms.
👻; you guys like to place bets on chad. that’s it.
👻; he loves when you dress him up and do his makeup. he claims you’re a god at it, but you only know the basics.
👻; he puts his head on your butt and falls asleep there for hours🙁
👻; he will make you sit through hours of his dorky movies and then explain the lore to you for hours and hours because he NEEDS you to understand.
bro i had to redo this shit because i didn’t save the draft 😔. but my opinion, don’t hate me lol.
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elliesbelle · 1 year ago
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nobody compares to you
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chapter 1
pairing: ellie x reader
synopsis: you’re in your junior year of college and at a party, you run into the girl who broke your heart: ellie williams. despite the time it took to reset your life, will you risk a broken heart again for her?
content warnings: modern college au, cursing, angst, dealer!ellie, use of marijuana, use of alcohol, sexual speech and content, anxiety attack, homophobia, brief mentions of predatory men, potential smut in the future so minors do not interact, a little bit enemies to lovers
word count: 3.6k
chapters: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen
series masterlist
my masterlist
i have a ko-fi if you like my work so much that you feel compelled to tip me ♡︎
the "nobody compares to you" spotify playlist
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You lean against the living room wall, holding three of your friends’ purses along with your own. The intoxication from a cup of jungle juice from an hour ago was beginning to wear off. You didn’t mean to become the unofficial mom friend of the group tonight, but your reluctance to endure more close-quartered gyrating cemented the position. If you had to utter another “excuse you” to an incredibly handsy frat boy, you’d be getting kicked out for an aggravated assault attempt. 
You didn’t really mind sobering up a bit, not tonight. Whether it was your hazy thoughts or the particular ambience in this frat house, you just weren’t in a huge mood to socialize. 
Earlier this morning, your friends had flooded your group chat with enthusiastic messages about yet another party happening later that night. It was a regular fall Saturday at your university, which meant there was always a rager or two. 
You were perfectly fine tagging along with your friend group to these events, though. You were well aware of your friends’ ulterior motives in pushing you to come out, but you chose to ignore it. Instead, you’d allowed them to hype you up while getting ready earlier that evening. Some pre-gaming had ensued in the form of vodka shots, and sharing of eyeshadow palettes & lipsticks had occurred when dolling up pre-party. 
“Babes, if you don’t teach me how to do my eye makeup the way you do, I swear…” Your friend Sidney whined next to you as she watched your steady hand apply finishing touches to your eyes. 
You chuckled but said nothing as you set your liquid eyeliner down and reached for your setting spray. There was no need for such meticulous styling to your makeup for some trivial frat party. You mostly did it for your own satisfaction, but a particular memory had tugged at your brain with every brush stroke. But this memory remained unacknowledged as you fanned your newly set face. 
You’d allowed yourself a revealing outfit tonight: a lacy black bralette peaking from underneath a maroon leather jacket and a tight black miniskirt that flounced with the slightest movement. Peaking from underneath your shirt was a pair of fishnet stockings. Topping it off was your favourite pair of knee-high black boots. This particular attire garnered squeals and wolf whistles from your friends in their equally slutty outfits. 
A couple of hours later, however, your appearance was a contradiction to your spiritless demeanor. You were tired and sweaty, the majority of your foundation having been perspired off in this sauna of a gathering. Feet blistering as a betrayal of high-heel boots, you struggled to keep yourself upright against the wall. 
“Hey, hot stuff.” An approaching voice says. 
Your eyes darted to the sound, ready to hurl a harsh “fuck off” at whatever creep decided to enter your sobering bubble. But upon spotting the culprit, you relaxed immediately. 
“Hey, Jesse.” You exhaled. 
“Damn, you looked like you were gonna rip me a new one just now.” He chuckled. 
“Sorry, sorry. You know how it can be at these shit parties.” 
Jesse was a rare guy friend of yours. You didn’t make a habit of befriending boys at college, but he was an exception. 
You’d met him freshman year when your friend group merged with another on the way to some start-of-the-year party. After some mutual friends introduced you, you hit it off almost immediately. 
Jesse was easy to talk to, never a creep or too invasive. You loved his dumb dad jokes and loyal nature. He never hit on you, even before finding out you were a lesbian. During tough times in recent years, he was there for you. He was a genuine guy who you’d instinctively trust your drink with. And right now, he was good company to have when you were alone and wistful at these stressful shindigs. 
“I get it, dude. But mom friend again tonight?” He asks, gesturing to the mass of purses in your hands. 
You shrug and reply, “It’s cool.” 
“Man, you’ve danced probably a total of three times at one of these things since last year. Are you even having fun?” 
“Eh. After three years, I’m a senior citizen.” 
“So what does that make me, since I’m graduating this year?” He asks, mockingly put his hands on his hips. 
“Ancient,” You reply, sticking your tongue out at him. 
Jesse places a hand on his chest and gasps dramatically, replying, “Fucking rude.” 
You chuckle. 
“I’m really okay, though.” You reassure him. “The girls wanted to go out tonight, but I’m just a bit tired.” 
“Tired or overstimulated?” 
You smile at his understanding. 
“Both.” 
He chuckles.
“Some cool people are passing around a fat ass joint outside. Wanna join?” 
You hold up the handful of purses you were tasked to guard as a response. 
“Alright, gimme,” He says, reaching his hand out. “Mom friend substitute while you go get high.” 
“You don’t wanna smoke?” 
“It’s cool, that’s where I’ve been for the last half hour or so. I should cool off for a little bit anyways.” 
You feel guilty for leaving Jesse to watch your belongings, even for a few short minutes. But his fingers wiggle expectantly and you know there was no point in arguing. 
“Thanks, dude.” You exhale as you hand off your weight. “Probably been needing a few hits of a j all night, anyway.” 
“Looks like it. Go ahead; D’s out there smoking with them if you wanna say hi.” 
“Oh, nice. Haven’t seen her tonight yet. Be back in a sec, then.” 
You tear yourself off from your spot on the wall and will your blistered feet to move towards the door. Not absolutely sober yet, you stumble across the living room before you could push past the screen door and into the brisk October air. Following the smell of pot laced with lavender in the air, you see a circle of people hanging out by a parked Jeep, illuminated slightly by the embers of a joint being passed around. 
Lavender? 
“Oh, fuck.” You say a little too loudly. 
A few heads turn towards your voice, one of which was Dina’s. 
“Hey, babe! I didn’t know you were here!” She says enthusiastically, approaching you with a bounce in her step. She pulls you into a brief but tight embrace. 
“Been here for the past hour, D.” You laugh nervously. “Where have you been?” 
“Been helping El’s lazy ass roll a fuckton of j’s for the past half hour that she was supposed to roll for customers before the party. But now, we’re just chilling. Want a hit?” 
Dina’s chin tilts towards the Jeep. Your eyes follow her aim to the girl sitting on its hood. Your breathing stops when you see the very person you were hoping not to encounter tonight. 
She was unmistakable in a simple grey, unbuttoned flannel shirt with rolled-up sleeves to show off an arm tattoo, slightly distressed jeans, and her old Converse sneakers. A few strands of auburn hair fell in front of her face out of the usual half-bun. You watch as her eyebrows—the right one with its notable slit slashed through—furrowed in concentration as she attempts to relight the joint in her pursed lips. 
Your throat closes up and you feel your heart clench tightly in your chest. 
Ellie. 
You immediately redirect your eyes back to Dina before Ellie can look up from behind her left hand shielding the lighter from the slight breeze. 
“Uh, no. I’m good. Just needed to step out for a hot sec. Needed a breather from the sea of raging hormones in there.” 
Another breeze suddenly hits your exposed skin, colder than the last. You figure this was a good way to excuse yourself back into the house. 
“I’m about to freeze my tits off out here, though. Gonna head back in.” You hug your arms around your bare stomach, goosebumps starting to form. 
You begin to turn right back around, but Dina grabbed your arm. 
“Oh! You came with Sidney and them, right? She said you were all planning on going to Sterling’s after this.” 
“We were?” You ask, thrown off and a little irritated that your friends hadn’t consulted you in this change of plans. 
“Yeah! We’re gonna come with ‘cause I’m craving a blueberry pancake bad and Jesse’s deranged self wants a strawberry milkshake.” Dina affectionately rolls her eyes. “Just let us know when you leave? We’ll head out with you.” 
“Um, sure.” Your heart begins to pound twice its normal speed. 
By “we,” did she mean—? 
“Okay, yay! We should go soon ‘cause I feel the munchies creeping up on me. I blame El for smoking me out as thanks for my rolling services.” 
The auburn-haired girl smirks at Dina’s comment, but you refuse to look at her this time. Instead, your eyes trail after the joint that Ellie was now passing to the girl to her left. 
The girl looked unfamiliar, but something in her face and posture screamed “freshman.” A brown motorcycle jacket was laying on top of her shoulders. Joel’s old motorcycle jacket. Ellie’s jacket. 
You fight the urge to roll your eyes and settle for pursing your lips. 
Chivalrous fuckboy graciously offering her jacket to a beautiful lady. Typical Ellie Williams move. 
You don’t allow yourself to dwell on whether Ellie had decided to lend her dad’s old jacket to a pretty stranger or a new girlfriend. You certainly don’t allow yourself to settle on which scenario would hurt your feelings more. And you definitely don’t dwell on the fact that she’s pulled this move on you more than once in the past. 
The girl takes no notice of your gaze as she accepts the joint, taking a hit. 
“I love that you always add lilac to these, Ellie. It smells so much better than a regular j.” 
Biting back the impulse to correct the girl, you merely look back at Dina to say, “Right. I’ll see y’all in a bit then, D?” 
“Sounds perfect. We’ll be here!” She replies happily. 
You give her a quick smile before returning inside the house, ignoring the green eyes now watching your departing figure. 
You don’t know how, but you know for a fact that Ellie’d been staring at you ever since she heard you mention your freezing tits and unintentionally pushed your breasts together when you’d grabbed your exposed stomach. 
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You walk through the front door and head straight for the bathroom that was just to the right. It wasn’t clear at the moment why you’d known that there was a half bath in this direction, but you were busy catching your breath to care. 
The bright, ugly fluorescents illuminating from the bathroom ceiling was sobering you up quickly. You wished you had gotten drunker. Trying to recall some breathing techniques an old therapist had taught you, your eyes fall on your appearance in the mirror. 
Not awful. I still look kind of hot. 
You reassure yourself that Ellie had only gotten a dim glimpse of you and hadn’t gotten a chance to notice how flushed you looked. 
Is it from the alcohol or was it from seeing her again so close after all these months? 
You could bail from the party now. Tell your friend group chat that you were heading home and text Dina separately, saying you weren’t feeling well. 
I can’t…
It takes you about five seconds to scrap that plan. You weren’t that type of friend to just bail, especially not when you’ve got drunk friends who were all girls surrounded by creeps or creep-adjacent frat boys. Plus, you’ve barely seen Dina and Jesse since the start of the school year. You could set aside your selfishness for one night and endure Ellie for just a little while. 
It’s okay. It’ll be like old times, except I ignore her the whole night. 
You hadn’t noticed that you were tearing up a little. Quickly but delicately, you wipe any tears threatening to fall, carefully avoiding smudging your eye makeup. 
I shouldn’t be letting her get to me tonight. 
You give yourself a half-hearted pep talk that works, to an extent. Using your fingers to brush out strands of hair off your sweaty forehead and straightening your skirt out, you convince yourself to emerge from the bathroom and hunt down the man who led you to face Ellie. 
You find him easily, not far away from the spot you had previously occupied from the wall. 
“Jess…” You begin as you approach the raven-haired boy. 
He was conversing with a frat boy, yours and your friends’ purses now either draped on his shoulder or slung around his chest. You would have giggled at this adorable image if you weren’t slightly ticked off by him. 
Jesse sees you approaching and calls your name, beckoning you towards him and his conversation partner. 
“Yo, tell Adam about Ellie’s dope ass joints that she laces with that lavender shit.” He points at you with his thumb. “Her idea, originally.” 
“Huh,” Adam says. “Kinda cool. Not something I’d do for myself, but I know she’s always got primo shit. Must be a nice touch with the strains she got.” 
You let out a noncommittal “mhm” and look back at Jesse, who has a sympathetic and apologetic smile on his face. 
“You irritate my life, Jess,” You say, leaving out the guy Adam from the conversation. 
“Sorry. It’s all out of love, my friend.” He replies, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Did you end up taking a hit?” 
You glare at him and he chuckles. 
“Thought I’d try. I’m sorry.” He says, sighing in defeat. “Dina tell you we’re going with you guys to Sterling’s after this?” 
“Is she coming along with us, Jess?” 
“We’re a codependent trio, so yes. Hey, that rhymed.” He snickers at his own joke. 
You groan. 
“I think I’ll head home instead.” 
“Come on, don’t be like that. Just hang out with me and Dina. We really miss you and we’ve barely seen you. You don’t have to talk to her.” 
“What happened to being a codependent trio?” You challenge. 
“Our marriage counselor said to work on boundaries,” Jesse says jokingly. 
You sigh. 
“You wanna go now, then?” You say, relenting. 
“Sure, I’m craving a strawberry milkshake real bad.” 
You roll your eyes. 
“Let me go round up the girls. We’ll meet you outside?” You say, reaching for the purses. 
He waves you off and says, “I got it, girl. See you in a sec.” 
You give him a tentative smile and proceed to the basement of the frat house. 
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After you successfully herded your friends, all of whom were at different levels of drunkenness, you ushered them upstairs to the living room and towards the front door. 
You had your arm around one of your more intoxicated friends, who all of a sudden exclaims in her drunken stupor, “Babe, we should come to this frat’s parties more often! We haven’t been since freshman year!” 
This stops you in your tracks, almost pulling your friend into you. 
Ahh, you thought. 
That’s why you’d been apprehensive about this house since arriving. This was the very same frat house where you’d met Ellie Williams for the first time. You met her the same night you met Jesse. You’d spent an hour or two conversing with her on a shabby couch in that same living room. The same house where those ocean green eyes pierced yours for the first time. The same house where you’d begun a “friendship” with someone who ultimately broke your heart. 
Uttering a quick apology to your friend, you nudge her forward to exit the house you had no desire to remain in. 
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The twenty-minute journey from the frat to Sterling’s Diner did not seem long enough to you. Though you were longing to sit and rest your sore feet (you gave up a seat on the bus to one of your drunker friends who could barely stand upright), you preferred moving in a rather large group of friends where you could easily situate yourself away from Ellie if need be. You remained at the front of the group with your friend Astrid, arms linked as you trekked towards the bright lights of Sterling’s. 
You all sit at a long makeshift table formed by three smaller tables pushed together. Your anxiety ramps up when Ellie sits across and a seat to the right from you. Refraining from glancing her way would be much more difficult now that you were both in each other’s line of sight. 
Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look. 
Your group was embarrassingly loud, disrupting the peace of the few restaurant-goers nearby. You silently make plans to pardon yourself to the bathroom and hide out for a good 15 minutes before you make an excuse to go home to your apartment. 
Some of them are sober enough. As long as I check up to make sure they all get home safe… 
Deciding not to order anything to avoid waiting til the end to pay, you tell the server that you don’t need anything. But before they can walk away, Dina, who was sitting directly across from you, interjects. 
“Oh, she’ll just get a hot chocolate.” 
You look perplexed. 
“Dina, I don’t need anything.” 
“I know for a fact that your tits are freezing cold and you need to warm up. Besides, I know you love hot chocolate.” 
“D!” You whisper, embarrassed at the loud comment about your tits in front of the server. Dina snickers.  
You smile at Dina’s thoughtfulness, though you’re slightly annoyed that your escape plan was thwarted. In the corner of your eye, you think you see Ellie make a certain facial expression. But refusing to look her way, you can’t make a guess as to what it was. 
Not wanting to hold up the server’s time by arguing with Dina, you give a quick thank you and glare at your nosy friend. 
“You and Jesse are really competing to see who is my number one tormentor tonight.” 
Dina rolls her eyes playfully, “Why? What did our sweet Jesse do this time?” 
You have to catch yourself from blurting out Jesse’s earlier endeavour. Despite the commotion your friends were making, you’re certain that your voice is still within Ellie’s earshot. 
“Uh… ask him later.” You say, making eye contact with Jesse, who sat to Dina’s right. 
He smirks and you grimace. 
It feels like a lifetime waiting for everyone’s order to arrive. You sat awkwardly sandwiched between your friend Astrid to your right and Frat Guy Adam to your left. You stay quiet, not engaging in much talk. Dina and Astrid would attempt to pull you into their respective conversations, but you merely give slight nods and smiles and an occasional “mhmm” before going back to scrolling on your phone. 
After exhausting all forms of social media that no longer entertained you, you sigh and place your phone down on the table. 
Frat Guy Adam notices your movement and glances at your lockscreen. 
“Boyfriend?” He suddenly asks, nodding towards your phone. 
“What?” You say, startled. 
“Dude on your wallpaper. Where is he tonight?” 
Your lockscreen photo was of you hugging your favourite cousin, Rafael, and it was taken after your high school graduation. 
“Oh.” You gulp. “No, uh. Older cousin. No boyfriend.” 
“Really?” He says suddenly interested. He turns in his seat to face you better. 
You shift uncomfortably in your seat. 
“Not really the boyfriend type of girl…” You mutter. 
“Why not? You’re pretty hot. Can’t be that hard to get a date.” 
“Yeah, well, I’m a lesbian. Don’t need a boyfriend.” You say quietly but assertively. 
Adam tsks, saying, “Man, really? Didn’t clock you as a queer.” He adjusts in his seat to his original position, chatting instead with his friend on his left. 
You freeze. You knew Adam didn’t exactly intend for his words to be malicious, but you’ve heard enough comments like this in your life to understand its meaning. 
No one else around you could hear his comment over the buzz of conversation. Except… 
Your eyes meet Ellie’s, you having momentarily forgotten that this was what you were trying to avoid. It was strange to look into a familiar face and see an unfamiliar expression. 
What was she thinking? Is that concern on her face? No, that’s something else… 
You break her gaze, deciding that she’d only looked at you because you accidentally looked her way. She probably didn’t hear what had happened; and even if she did, it was none of her business. 
Before you can even decide whether or not to say anything to Adam, everyone’s orders come flooding out. Your hot chocolate was placed in front of you, and ignoring Ellie’s piercing green eyes, you just stare at the steam rising from your cup. 
You were growing more uncomfortable every second that passed. Being neither drunk nor high, you sit soberly in your seat and wish you hadn’t come out tonight in the first place. You suddenly feel tears welling up in your eyes, unsure if it was from your anxiety or Adam’s comments. 
Muttering a brief “be right back” to nobody in particular, you quickly make your way to the two-stall women’s restroom. You nearly collapse against the bathroom door once it closed behind you. Burying your face in your hands, you try not to break down into tears of frustration. 
After several moments, you pry yourself off the door and dare to look at yourself in the mirror. You look like a more tired, sweatier version of yourself from earlier in the night. Sighing, you grab a paper towel and dab it underneath your eye to remove any dripping eyeliner. 
You nearly jump and poke your eye when the bathroom door suddenly opens. You feel your throat close up and your heart clench once more. 
Ellie.
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author’s notes:
this is the first ellie fanfic i’ve written and posted on here so be kind pretty please but feedback is very much welcome! i actually have more than one chapter written out already shdjfjf but hopefully this does well and i’ll post the rest if people would like!
i plan on making this a kind of long series, so i hope people will like that sgdjfjf (sorry, i know i should just post and not apologize and look for validation, but i haven’t written in a while!)
@lonelyfooryouonly asked me on my main to be tagged when i finally start posting my own fics on here, so here bby ty for the push! can’t wait for the next chapter of selfish to come out hehe
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kaiijo · 6 months ago
Note
Hello! I really like your fics and I saw your spotify event! I love Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridges too so, since you've already wrote Lover (really sweet and cute), I'll ask for "Went looking for a creation myth" (I Know The End is my FAVORITE song) with Zoro. Thank you very much! 😊
I KNOW THE END — RORONOA ZORO
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roronoa zoro + went looking for a creation myth content: fem! reader, fluff, part of the spotify wrapped event notes: i’m so sorry this is so late! i hope you like it <3
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as a pirate, there are few days you get to just relax and explore places you visit, especially given the particularly high bounty of yours and the rest of the strawhats. you struck gold when you docked in a small town that was amenable to pirate-visitors and very opposed to marine presence. 
you, nami, and robin are lounging on some beach chairs the locals lent you. while robin’s deep in her newest book, one that’s bigger and thicker than her last one, you and nami watch as usopp, luffy, and zoro wrestle at the shoreline. usopp manages to get an upper hand on zoro, springing onto his back and covering his eyes. “now, luffy!” usopp yells and luffy’s launching himself towards the two. they all collapse, usopp and luffy laughing raucously and zoro grumbling and cursing beneath them. 
“hello to the most beautiful women in the world,” sanji says as he approaches, balancing a tray of iced drinks. “care for refreshers? hibiscus and honey iced tea.” the drinks are a rich fuschia with a lemon at the rim and the sight makes your mouth water.
“thanks, sanji.” you take a drink and pass another to nami while sanji circles your cluster of chairs to get to robin, who doesn’t even look up as she flips a page and takes a glass. 
“oi, lovecook, do we get anything?” zoro saunters up the dune, followed by luffy and usopp. 
“no.”
zoro scowls before turning to you. “let me have a sip.”
“no!” you say, drawing your glass close to your chest. you can feel the condensation gathering at your fingertips. “get your own!”
“curly brows won’t give me one,” zoro says. “what’s the big deal, just let me have some of yours?”
“no, you always say you’ll only have a little and then glug down half!”
“isn’t a perk of a being in a relationship sharing things with your partner?’
you snort, “please, you’re the biggest hog of us all.” zoro glowers and you sigh, “fine, you big baby.” you hold out your drink and he goes to take it when you jerk your arm back. 
“what now?” he asks.
“one condition.”
“what?”
you grin brightly, tapping your cheek. “a sip for a kiss.”
“you’re impossible,” he says, cheeks flushing but he leans down anyway and pecks your cheek. your own cheeks are warm and you’re not sure it’s from the sun. 
you let him take a few sips of your drink before you say, “that’s enough, babe.”
“what? it was barely a drop! just a little more.”
“that wasn’t meant for you, mosshead!” sanji says, snatching the glass from him. he looks into the nearly empty cup and scowls at zoro before turning to you apologetically. “don’t worry, i’ll go whip up another, pretty.”
“thanks, sanji.”
“don’t call my girlfriend ‘pretty.’”
“don’t tell me what to do!”
“i’ll say whatever i want to you!”
you’re not surprised as you watch sanji aim a kick at zoro, your boyfriend immediately parrying. as they start kicking up sand, nami shouts, “ugh, can you guys do this somewhere else?” to their credit, they move their fight elsewhere (before nami has the chance to throw her discarded sandal at them).
she leans back in her chair and groans, “i don’t know how you put up with him sometimes.”
“patience,” you reply and she snorts. 
“i don’t even remember how you two got together,” she says. “it was just like one day you were both single and then the next day, you told us you were dating. 
you smile a little. you’re fond of the memory — the look of shock on the rest of the crew’s face was priceless, and predictably, sanji and zoro got into an argument about you and how zoro is the last person qualified to date you. 
“how’d it happen, anyways?”
“what?”
“you and zoro?”
you try to think back on how it happened. it wasn’t like some sparks-fly moment like you’ve read in some of robin’s books nor some burning confession that was just bubbling up inside you. you remember the day he asked you on a date very well, though. 
you were sailing on a calm part of the ocean, and it was a sunny day with a gentle breeze. luffy, chopper, and usopp were playing some card game that was rapidly devolving into a cheating match. nami was tending to her tangerine tree while franky and robin were deep in some conversation. 
you and zoro had finished training in the gym and were lounging on deck. you basked in the warmth of the sun, on the verge of sleep, and you rolled over. you bumped into zoro and went to apologize but he just shrugged and pulled you in, letting you rest your head against his chest. “this comfortable?” he asked.
“yeah, you’re a good pillow,” you sighed, closing your eyes. 
there was a brief pause before zoro said, “i heard nami and curly brows talking about the island we’re going to. said there was a nice restaurant there. want to go?”
“sure, that sounds nice. are you going to be able to play nice with sanji there?”
“i was thinking it would just be use. you and me.”
you crack opened a eye and glance over at him. he wasn’t looking at you but you could see some red creeping up on his ears. you cuddle into him. “yeah, that sounds nice.”
you turn back to nami and say, “i don’t know. it just felt right. natural.”
she seems content with your answer as she nods and leans back in her chair. you do too, closing your eyes, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore and your boyfriend’s distant yells. 
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cyarikaplease · 6 days ago
Text
it comes at night
mothman!joel x f!reader
summary: at your first mothman festival in west virginia you run into a handsome stranger who’s harboring a dark secret
warnings: explicit smut, must be 18 or older to read, monster fucking, drinking
“Don’t you think Mothman is kinda hot?”
You glance at your friend Tara in the rearview mirror and raise your eyebrow.
“How can a moth be hot?”
“Oh, come on! You know he’s not a normal moth… he’s got like… muscular legs,” Janelle, your other friend, chimes in from the passenger's seat.
“You don’t wanna fuck Mothman?” Tara asks.
“... No? And you do?”
“How can you be a Mothmanner and not wanna fuck him?” she continues.
“Mothmanner?” you snort.
“Mothman enthusiast, whatever you wanna call it.”
“Not really. I’m more interested in him for scientific purposes.”
“That just leaves more of him for us, Tara,” Janelle says.
“Yeah, after you examine him for research we’ll tag team him.”
“You guys are gross,” you say, rolling your eyes.
Janelle grabs your phone connected to your car through the aux and opens Spotify, searching for a song.
“Whatcha playin’?” you ask.
“Just a silly little diddy. Perfect driving song.”
The sound of a creaking door and a bubbling sound comes through your car speakers. You know exactly what she chose. As the drums kick in you ask, “Really? The Monster Mash?”
“It’s festive,” she shrugs.
“Oh yeah, turn that shit up,” Tara adds.
You roll your eyes and turn up the volume. You take the Point Pleasant exit off the highway and the anticipation brews in your stomach. You’re into all sorts of cryptids but there’s something different and intriguing about Mothman specifically that you can’t put your finger on. You’ve been picturing this moment for a long time but… not with Monster Mash playing in the background.
Janelle turns down the music and says, “Look what I found on Facebook! There’s a group Mothman stakeout tomorrow night at the McClintic Wildlife Area. We should go!”
She hands Tara her phone and lets her look at the event details.
“Sounds like fun. You down?” Tara asks, handing the phone back to Janelle.
“I mean, why not?” you say, entering the residential streets of Point Pleasant.
To say the city of Point Pleasant is enthusiastic about the Mothman Festival would be an understatement. The city is decked out in decorations and the streets are littered with people in costumes. As you get closer to 4th Street, where the Mothman Museum and the famed Mothman Statue are located, it gets even busier. A black banner hung between two telephone poles reads “Welcome to the 20th Annual Mothman Festival” in white block letters. You drive down the street slowly, careful not to hit any festival goers on your way to your hotel, passing the Mothman Statue before turning onto the street your hotel is on.
You park your car and hastily grab your bags before heading into the lobby to check-in. A hotel like this in Point Pleasant, West Virginia wouldn’t normally cost a lot but it’s Mothman Festival weekend and hotels across the area have jacked up their prices.
You get your room keys from the desk and head to the room to change quickly before hitting the town. It’s still quite early in the day, only around two in the afternoon and there’s plenty of festivities to be had. You change into a black t-shirt that says “Mothman ate my entire ass at a Denny’s”, a pair of ripped jeans, and a pair of Converse before heading out with your friends.
You walk down the street and head to your first stop; the Mothman Statue who is unreasonably buff, complete with a six-pack and a tight ass. Each of you take pictures slapping his ass before taking a “normal” group photo standing beside it.
The next stop is Village Pizza where they have a pizza with toppings arranged to look like Mothman. On the way there you stop and take pictures with other festival goers who are dressed as Mothman, just having a grand ole time.
You arrive at the pizzeria and get a booth, waiting for a server to come take your order. And that’s when you see him. No, not Mothman but an attractive human man sitting at another booth across the restaurant. You make contact and look away out of shyness. But something about you tells you to look at him again. And when you do you find he’s looking at you still, mouth curving into a smirk when you lock eyes again. This time you notice his features; graying hair, deep brown eyes, and a strong nose. He’s wearing a flannel and leaning forward on the table, resting his elbows on it. He gives you a small wave and you wave back without thinking, prompting Tara to ask, “Who are you waving at?”
“No one,” you say quickly, looking away from the man.
“Nah, you’re lying. I’m gonna look,” Tara says, starting to turn around.
“Don’t-” you start but it’s too late. She turns around and spots the man, who also shoots her a wave.
“Him?” she says, turning back to face you. Janelle turns around, too. And just like with Tara, the man waves to her.
“And what about it?” you ask.
“Oh, he’s hot. Go over there and talk to him,” Janelle says.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Tara asks.
“I’m… not that forward.”
“It’s the Mothman Festival, go fucking wild,” Janelle shrugs.
“Agreed,” Tara nods.
“Okay, fine. Fine! I’ll go,” you say, sliding out of the boot, legs already feeling like jelly.
You walk over to him and watch his smirk turn into a full smile. You stand by his table and feel stupid. What kind of person makes eye contact with someone in a restaurant and just decides to boldly introduce themself? What if he’s here with another girl?
“Hi, um, I’m here with my friends and I saw you across the restaurant and I, uh, thought I’d say hello,” you say nervously, feeling even stupider by the end of your pathetic introduction.
“Hey there. I’m Joel. Would you like to join me?”
“Are you here with anyone?”
“No, just me. My brother was supposed to come but he bailed on me to go to New Jersey.”
You sit down across from him, continuing the conversation.
“Ah, so you’re not from around here?”
“No, just here for the festival, like I’m assuming you are,” he says, gesturing to your shirt.
And now you feel self-conscious of what you’re wearing but stupid shirts like this are literally all you fucking packed.
“Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s funny.”
“Thanks,” you say awkwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“You doing anything tonight?”
“Nothing in particular tonight. But tomorrow night my friends and I are going to that group Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area.”
“Oh, nice. I’m going to that, too.”
“It sounds like fun!”
“Well if you’re not doing anything tonight maybe I can take you out to the bars tonight. I think some alcohol would loosen you up and make you less shy, Luna.”
“S-sure that sounds like fun. What time?” you ask, heart fluttering at the nickname.
“Around eight. You staying in the area? I can meet you at your hotel.”
“Sounds good!”
You tell him the name of your hotel and get up to go back to your friends.
“And by the way,” he says, stopping you, “I’m Joel.”
You tell him your name but he still chooses to say, “See you tonight, Luna.”
You walk back to your friends and sit in the booth, finding that they already ordered the Mothman pizza and were waiting for you before they started eating. But they didn’t mind.
“So who is he? What’s his deal?” Tara asks.
“Uh, his name is Joel and he’s here for the festival.”
“Alone?” Janelle asks.
“His brother bailed on him to go to Jersey.”
“Who bails on the Mothman Festival to go to New Jersey of all places?” Janelle says.
“Not sure about that but he asked me to go out tonight.”
“You said yes, right?” Tara questions.
“I did… Was I not supposed to?”
“No! No, you need to go. Right, Janelle?”
“Agreed.”
“Thanks, guys… He’s also going to McClintic tomorrow night, too.”
“Oooh,” they both say in unison.
“It’ll be fun,” you say, “But let’s eat and get the other stuff on our list done. I feel bad I’m leaving you guys tonight.”
“Don’t feel bad. He’s hot,” Tara says, taking a bite of her slice of pizza.
“And older,” Janelle says.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’ll see if it even works out.”
“You sell yourself short. You went over and made the first move. And then he asked you out. He’s gotta be interested,” Janelle continues.
“I guess you’re right.”
“I always am,” she laughs.
You finish your pizza and head to the next stop on your list; a local coffee shop called The Coffee Grinder, where they have Mothman-shaped cookies complete with red eyes. You eat your cookies and finish up at the coffee shop before heading back to the hotel, weaving in and out of the festival crowds. You get to your room and go to change, looking to wear something less embarrassing but… that’s not possible with the clothes you packed. You decide to put on a shirt that’s a little bit better; one that reads “I kissed Mothman in the lamp section of Home Depot” and opt for a skirt with the same pair of Converse.
Tara and Janelle wish you good luck on your date before you leave. You go down to the lobby a little bit before eight and wait for Joel, anxiously pacing back and forth. You feel a hand on your shoulder, startling you. You turn around to find Joel, greeting you with a smile.
“Oh, it’s just you.”
“Just me. Didn’t mean to startle ya.”
“No worries. Where are we going?”
“Just one of the local spots downtown. There’s a band playing there tonight.”
“Sounds like fun!”
And with that, you’re walking side by side to the bar. The streets are even more lively than they were earlier in the day. You try not to notice the way he puts a protective hand on the small of your back whenever you walk through a crowd.
He leads you off the crowded street and into a bar that’s also just as busy. Luckily, he spots some empty stools at the bar and leads you over there. It’s pretty loud so getting to know him here might not be in the cards for tonight but at least you’ll have the alcohol to loosen you up a bit like Joel said. Joel orders a beer and you order a special blood orange margarita, complete with a gummy butterfly on top– how festive.
“You must be pretty into Mothman, huh? I guess ya gotta be if you’re coming here,” he says, half shouting over the loud music.
“Haha, yeah! My friends think he’s hot.”
“Really?” he says, eyes widening as he takes a sip of his drink.
“Yeah, I don’t really get it! I just think he’s interesting but if he were real they’d probably try to fuck him or something.”
“You wouldn’t, Luna?” he asks, a playful grin spreading across his face. There it is, that nickname again.
“You would?” you counter.
“Maybe if he bought me dinner first,” he laughs.
After a few more laughs and another round of drinks, you feel yourself loosening up a bit and enjoying the night more. From what you can tell, Joel seems like a nice, southern guy who’s a fellow cryptid enthusiast, no red flags so far.
“I have to ask, Luna… Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks after the third round of drinks. He’s definitely a little tipsy by now.
“No, sir,” you say, immediately regretting the sir that slipped out.
He inches a little closer to you, eyes looking you up and down, and says, “What do ya say we get out of here?”
Is it a stupid idea to leave a bar and go somewhere with a man you just met earlier that day? Probably. But do you care? Not really, especially in your slightly inebriated state.
You nod and he flags down the bartender to pay the tab, before grabbing your hand and walking you out of the bar.
“Where are we going?” you ask when you step back out onto the street.
“Wherever,” he says nonchalantly, “But tell me, Luna, are you a dirty girl?” his large hand grabs your waist as you walk, pulling you closer to him.
You can’t deny you want him. And you’re feeling a bit more confident than usual.
“For you? Sure am.”
“Dirty enough to do it in an alley?”
“Oh fuck yeah,” you drunkenly say, excitement building up between your legs.
He turns a corner, leading you down a small, dimly lit alleyway. You ignore all of the red flags practically screaming at you. Between your undeniable attraction to Joel and the alcohol, your judgment is heavily impaired, to say the least.
He walks you to the end of the alley, to a spot where you hopefully won’t get caught. With a brick wall pressed up against your back, he starts placing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, hands greedily pawing your breasts over your shirt. A small gasp escapes your lips when he nips at the soft skin on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark that your friends are definitely going to question later.
His hand slips under your skirt, toying with the fabric of your underwear; your damp underwear. He pulls it to the side, running his fingers along your entrance, collecting whatever wetness is there, and bringing his hand in front of your face to show you.
“This,” he says, rubbing his thumb against his index and middle finger, pulling them apart and watching your wetness stretch with it, “is all the evidence I needed,” he finishes.
The deranged and devious look in his eyes, as he looks at the physical evidence of how badly you want him, makes your knees weak. He brings his fingers to his mouth, tasting your juices and sucking them clean, closing his eyes at the taste. He replaces fingers back on your cunt, stroking it lightly and nipping your neck again.
“You taste so fucking good, Luna. So sweet,” he says, coming out as a low growl.
Without warning, he pushes two fingers in, not letting you warm up with a single one first. He curls them against your walls and you’re so drunk you forget you’re in public, letting out a moan that’s just a bit too loud.
“Shh,” he whispers against your neck and you try your best to keep quiet…
Until you hear a stern “HEY!” causing you to gasp.
He pulls his fingers from you quickly and you both look to your right to see a police officer with a flashlight, pointed directly at you. The officer’s eyes trail down to your skirt and then back up to your neck; to the marks on your neck. He sighs.
“Really guys? Trying to fuck in an alley like a couple of teenagers?”
You stand up straight and smooth your skirt down, unsure of what to do next.
He sighs again and says, “Get outta here before I arrest you for public indecency! Damn festival goers…”
You blink a few times, in disbelief that he’s letting you go. But Joel grabs your hand and leads you out of the alley, with you holding your breath the whole time. The cop mutters something about how he thought he caught a drug deal as you walk past him. When you hit the sidewalk you exhale, letting the tension leave you. As for Joel he starts hysterically laughing, a stark contrast to the embarrassment you’re feeling.
He notices the look on your face and asks, “What? You didn’t think that was funny?” while trying to hold back more laughter.
“Not really!” you say, lightly slapping him on the arm.
“Aw come on, Luna. He just blamed it on the festival and let us off with a warning. It could’ve been a lot worse but it wasn’t!” he reassures you.
“I guess you’re right,” you sigh.
Your phone vibrates in your bag so you pull it out. Your friends are texting you, asking you when you’ll be back. The time on the screen says two in the morning but how is that even possible? Joel met you at eight and you only went to one bar, only had three rounds of drinks and you didn’t go all the way in the alley just now. Chalking it up to being drunk and losing track of time, you put your phone back in your bag and say to Joel, “I think I should get back to my friends.”
“Of course,” he says, “I’ll take you back now.”
The walk back to your hotel is somewhat quiet. The festival goers on the streets are mostly cleared up by now. You assume the quietness is due to the embarrassment from earlier and you wonder if Joel is mad at you for getting worked up. You shake your head and try to put that thought out of your mind, still trying to salvage what you have with him, if anything at all.
“I had a lot of fun tonight,” you start just as you turn onto the block your hotel is located on, “And I’m excited to see you tomorrow at the Mothman stakeout.”
“Me, too, Luna,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “Trust me, we’ll have lots of fun tomorrow night.”
You stop at the entrance to your hotel and begin to part ways. He pulls you in for a kiss and wishes you goodnight. But before he leaves he exchanges phone numbers with you, just in case it’s hard to find each other at the stakeout tomorrow night. You type your name into his phone followed by a butterfly emoji. He chuckles when he sees it, saying, “See you tomorrow, Luna.” And with that, he turns and walks down the street, disappearing into the night.
Heading back up to the room, you replay the night’s events, trying to get a read on Joel and determine your feelings for him. You decide that you’re definitely interested in him… but you need to know more. Upon entering the door, Tara and Janelle are standing within just a few feet of the entrance, side by side and arms folded.
“What?” you ask, reading the expression on their faces.
“An update would’ve been nice,” Tara says.
“I lost track of time!” you reply.
“I get that but you were with some mystery man you just met today. You don’t know his intentions!” Janelle adds.
“You’re right,” you sigh, “Nothing crazy happened. I just forgot to look at my phone.”
“We’re just glad that you’re okay! …And that we can finally go to bed now,” Tara says, yawning and moving over to the bed.
“Sorry to keep you guys up! But thanks for being concerned for me. I’m just gonna be in the bathroom,” you say.
They nod and get into bed, while you go to the bathroom to inspect the marks on your neck under better lighting. And sure enough, there’s several marks and there they are but there’s also… a gold film? Perhaps sheen is the right word? Whatever is it there are flecks of gold peppered along the hickeys. Maybe it’s something from the bar? That’s the most logical explanation you can think of. You complete your nighttime routine and head off to bed, head filled with dreams of Joel, filling in the gaps of information about him.
-
The next day is a blur, a myriad of events strewn together haphazardly. Your friends can tell you’re in a sort of daze; you can tell by the way they look at you, but they choose to say nothing. First, you went back to The Coffee Grinder because, after your late night, you desperately need caffeine. After that, you hit up the Mothman Museum, taking advantage of some special exhibits and talks for the festival. And finally, it’s time to get ready for what you’re most excited about; the group Mothman stakeout at the McClintic Wildlife Area. But you haven’t heard from Joel at all throughout the day. And you’re starting to worry. Maybe he doesn’t actually like you, maybe he decided that after you guys got caught in the alley you weren’t worth his time. But he did say he was going tonight and you hope he keeps his word.
You head to the hotel to change, opting for another one of your stupid fucking t-shirts, leggings, and a pair of sneakers. This time your t-shirt reads; “Mothman is real and he sells me weed in the Waffle House parking lot” because why wouldn’t it?
You pack up your camping supplies; a sleeping bag, a backpack, some snacks along with a bear canister to store them in, a canteen full of water, and a lighter.
The sun is just starting to set now and it’s about time to go. Before you leave the hotel you decide to text Joel:
“Hey, will I see you tonight?”
You wait with bated breath for a response. And to your surprise, it comes rather quickly.
“Of course, Luna. Wouldn’t miss it for the world🦋”
You exhale, feeling a little bit better about things between you two, and head out with your friends. You drive to the McClintic Wildlife Area and park your car in the parking lot, which is decently full. But that was to be expected. What’s the point of coming to the Mothman Festival if you’re not going to try and catch a glimpse of the real thing?
You grab your stuff from the trunk of your car and set off into the forest, following the other Mothman enthusiasts until you reach a clearing where others have already set out their sleeping bags. In the middle of the ring of sleeping bags, there’s a fire going, surrounded by people already drinking and socializing. Tara and Janelle spot two guys sitting by the fire and decide to head over to them. You can’t blame them, you did leave them all night last night. So you set up your sleeping bag where there’s a free spot, sit down, and wait for Joel.
And… nothing. The sun sets and you haven’t heard from him. Tara and Janelle make eye contact with you periodically, shooting you looks that are supposed to ask, “Are you okay?” and you nod back to them, not wanting to ruin their fun. You lay down and look at the stars above you, just about to accept the fact that Joel stood you up when all of a sudden you feel your phone vibrate next to you.
You hold up your phone in front of your face and to your surprise it’s a text from Joel reading:
“Hey, I just found the most convincing piece of Mothman evidence ever. Come look.”
You sit up and look around, confusion on your face. He’s nowhere to be found.
You type out:
“I don’t see you. Where are you?”
He replies:
“Look behind you.”
You turn around and look at the line of trees behind you and yet again… nowhere to be found.
You go to type a response back but he beats you to it, saying:
“I can see you. I don’t want to leave the evidence behind… Just come to the trees, Luna.”
You sigh and get up, making sure to take your phone with you. Tara makes eye contact with you so you pretend you’re taking a phone call, pointing to your phone and putting it by your ear. She nods and you turn to walk towards the tree line, a nervous pit forming in your stomach. This is such a bad idea. It’s such a typical stupid girl in a horror movie trope and yet here you are, walking into a dark forest to meet a man you just met yesterday.
You reach the trees and take a deep breath before walking into the woods, turning on your phone’s flashlight. You call out Joel’s name and don’t hear anything. Rolling your eyes, you call him on your phone, getting a little fed up now. He doesn’t pick up but you hear a ringtone in the distance. You groan and follow the sound, because if you can hear Joel’s phone but not Joel… who’s to say that Mothman is actually real and he got Joel?
You find his phone resting on a fallen tree, the screen lit up with “Incoming Call” followed by your name. You pick up the phone and look around, shining the flashlight out in front of you.
You smell something in the air… something fruity… almost like apple cider… with a hint of citrus? A golden mist hangs in the air, permeating the area around you and filling your senses. Whatever’s around you smells good and inviting. Without thinking, you take a deep breath, letting the smell and the mist calm you down. A warmth brews between your legs and your skin feels hot, at first it’s comforting… But soon enough it becomes unbearable. Sweat beads up on your forehead and the warmth between your legs grows stronger. A presence behind you is apparent; it’s daunting. Something tells you to turn around and when you do, you can’t believe your eyes.
Towering above you is Mothman himself. You’re met with glowing red eyes, a muscular stature, large wings fanning out behind him, and threatening claws. He’s tall, anywhere from seven to eight feet tall, his monstrous eyes practically burning a hole into you. You should be terrified right now, running for your life back to your friends. Or at the very least taking some pictures. Instead, you’re frozen, not in fear… but in desire. The warmth that was brewing between your legs is unignorable.
“Joel?” you call out in a small voice.
The creature takes a step towards you almost as if it can understand. Your skin feels like it’s burning, like if someone were to touch you the heat of your skin would also burn them. It’s like torture, one of the most agonizing sensations you’ve ever felt. Without even thinking you drop your phone and his, pulling off your shirt over your head, and instantly feeling some relief, but it’s not enough. You kick off your shoes, sliding your pants down your legs, followed by your underwear. The cool forest air hits your skin, perking up your nipples and providing you with seconds of relief, but it’s still not enough. The creature’s eyes scan your features, training up and down your naked form.
The air moves around you, and so does the gold mist. Right before your eyes, the creature shapeshifts, losing its wings and claws, returning to a normal human height, and turning… into Joel? And yet even still he keeps the unmistakable glowing red eyes. He looks at you with a devilish grin, stepping closer to you. He’s completely naked, body shimmering under the pale moonlight and the flashlight on the forest floor beneath him.
“So once again, Luna, are you a dirty girl?”
“Y-yes,” you stutter out, your body practically calling out for him.
He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying against a flat rock behind you. The coolness of the rock is a stark contrast against the heat radiating off of your body. Joel spreads your legs apart forcefully, marveling at your cunt and how it’s already dripping for him. His red eyes flash back up at you, taking note of the desperate look in your eye before feasting on your cunt. He licks your cunt in a way that can only be described as animalistic, flicking his tongue across your clit and lapping at your entrance. You writhe against the rock and Joel has to hook his arms around your thighs to keep you steady; to keep your cunt directly on his mouth. The tension in your core builds as he continues to eat you out, tongue swirling around your sex as he drinks in your juices. With one last flick of his tongue, you cum against him, one of the wettest and longest orgasms you’ve ever had. The movement of your hips slows down as you come down from your high but alas… barely any relief.
Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you let out a soft whimper. His glowing eyes meet yours and he asks, “Still not enough, huh Luna?”
“No. No, it’s not. Please, Joel, I need more.”
He lets out a dark chuckle, bringing his fingers to your cunt and stroking it lightly, gathering your wetness on his large hand and rubbing it between his fingers. He pushes two fingers inside you, knowing you’re well past needing to warm up with one first. He curls them against your walls, letting his fingers get absolutely soaked. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, fast circles around it while his fingers inside you push against your g-spot. In no time you’re coming again, your cunt fluttering around his fingers rhythmically. Your release soaks his hand all the way down to his wrist and he leaves his fingers inside you, just feeling your cunt clench and relax around him. Your body feels euphoric, tingling sensations coursing through your limbs but still… it’s not enough.
“How you feelin’, Luna?”
“I still… I still need more,” you whine.
“Beg,” he says, hovering over you, red eyes staring directly into yours.
“Joel, please. I need it,” you beg.
“How bad?”
“So fucking bad,” you whine, sounding completely delirious.
“I suppose,” he teases, spreading your wetness onto his already hard cock, whose size is intimidating…
He pushes into you in one swift motion, hooking his muscular arms around your thighs and leaning forward, folding you in half. You’re face to face with him now, his non-human eyes locked onto yours. His cock stretches your walls, hitting the deepest angles inside you as he fucks you relentlessly; completely feral. You look up at him with the tree-covered moon above him, completely in awe of what’s happening to you. You swear his face flashes from his human form to his Mothman form, but only for a split second. He brings his mouth to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin even harder than the night before, surely enough to leave darker marks and more gold film. With one last slam of his hips, you’re coming on his cock, your cunt convulsing erratically. He fucks you through it, making it last even longer. Your own release pulls his own from him, and it’s powerful. You feel his warm cum spilling inside you, strong and like it’s never-ending. You’re silently grateful you’re on birth control even though you don’t know what the effects Mothman cum will have on you. Eventually your orgasm ebbs and flows as it winds down and Joel slowly comes to a halt. He stays inside you for a moment, keeping his eyes locked on you.
“I bet now you’re good. Completely spent, ain’t that right, Luna?”
“Mhm,” you say, still a little breathless.
Eventually, he goes soft and his eyes shift back into their usual warm brown shade. He pulls out and lies down next to you. You roll over and rest against him, his own body burning up just like yours. You’re too exhausted to even question what just happened, letting sleep quickly overtake you.
-
You wake up the next morning alone, the sunlight peeking through the tree cover. You sit up and rub your eyes, looking around you for any sign of Joel. But he’s gone.
You try to remember last night but it’s all foggy, like it’s a distant memory already. You vaguely remember the fruity scent and the gold mist in the air. You look down at your skin and there are still traces of it there but not much. You pull on your clothes and grab your phone, looking at the time before rushing to get back to Tara and Janelle. They must be worried sick about you. You power walk back to the group, just trying to get there quickly but also not so panicked that they’ll think something is wrong. From what you can tell, you’re fine. Just a little dazed with a soreness between your legs.
You’re back in the clearing and coming up on the collection of sleeping bags. Tara and Janelle spot you and wave, completely cheery with wide smiles. Not the response you were expecting.
“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be gone that long,” you say, stopping in front of their sleeping bags.
“Don’t be! Looks like you got lucky, too,” Tara says with a wink, looking at your disheveled state.
“Did you guys-”
“Mhm,” Janelle says, “With those guys you saw us talking with. Did you end up finding Joel?”
“You bet I did. But didn’t spot any signs of Mothman?” you ask.
They both shake their heads, no and you sigh.
“Guess there’s always next year,” you say, bending down to pack up your stuff; stuff that you didn’t even end up using.
You walk back to your car after you’re all packed, feeling your phone vibrate in your bag.
You pull it out to find a text from Joel reading:
“Until next time, Luna🦋”
Looks like the Mothman Festival will be an annual tradition.
-
@pedrostories @littlemisspascal
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narcolini · 4 months ago
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white room - pt. 3
johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 4k words, 3 of ? part one | part two a/n: if anyone's curious, the fics named after the song white room by cream, which was both relevant enough, and playing on spotify at the time, to be chosen for such reasons skskssk gif credit to @hausofmamadas mi amor
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Friday, well, that one turns out to be a movie. Not in the romantic feeling kind of way, but in the real movie theatre with a bucket of popcorn and everything else kind of way, and you would’a never expected that from a guy like Johnny. 
Really surprised you at first, caught you so off guard that you made him say it twice when he picked you up, but then he said besides riding and racing, movies are his favourite way to spend an hour or two, which really warmed you up to the idea. And you know, he wasn’t lying, neither. Everyone likes movies in some sort of way, sure, but Johnny? He loves them. Really really. His eyes lit all the way up when he told you which one he’d picked out for you, and you didn’t mind anywhere near enough to complain or choose something else, so that’s what you ended up doing.
And on the way there, he asks what your favourite thing is, for passing time and stuff, and you tell him, well, you suppose that’d be writing. So he says, books? And you says, yeah, stories. Adventures. 
“You ever think about writing a movie script?” he asks.
And you shrug, cause you ain’t never thought about it really. “I could do.”
“Bout some guy who starts a bike club?”
“Yeah, and he thinks he’s the coolest guy around, til he meets someone cooler, that is.” 
He smiles. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah, someone they call Lips.”
Then he’s laughing, and not looking at all where he’s going, eyes all sticky to yours, but the road's straight, so you figure it’s alright for a little while. “It’s good,” he says, “but, ah, I don’t think it’ll make it. Won’t get the audience, you know?”
“Sucks,” you tell him, “I had a real good feeling bout that one.”
Oh, and he picked you up in his car this time too, which you ain’t never seen before. With the bikes and the trucks, you thought you had his wheels all covered, but then he pulls up in this thing—real neat looking, all black and low to the ground, but not too showy, like something he could still put his girls in, when it’s his turn or something. And you know as much about cars as you do about bikes, which is nearly fuckin’ nothin, so you couldn’t tell him anything about it, other than it looks nice, and that he was in a real surprising mood today. Keeping you on your toes, you said. 
His reason was something about not wanting to leave his bike someplace he can’t get to in a pinch, and apparently that’s the movie theatre. So, you’re sitting next to him this time, instead of clinging on like a second jacket, and talking all that crap about movie scripts while he drives you there.
You figured you’d be feeling a sort of way about the car thing, cause you were getting real used to having him in front of you, really enjoying it, you know, but side by side? Well, that’s a whole other drug. Spent the whole ride so far just looking at him. At his face, his hands. His thighs in those washed out jeans of his—cause he sits the same in a car as he does on a bike, would you believe it, his knees all spread out like that. And sure, maybe it’s not polite to eat him up so much with your eyes, but you’re listening too, and talking when he needs something from you. 
Plus, you only caught him a couple times, but he’s been looking at you as much as you’re looking at him. At your jeans and thighs as well, you reckon. Between the both of you, you’ve made the car feel like one of those Swedish sauna things on wheels, or maybe it’s just you thinking that way, but your neck is hot, real world hot, and even your brow’s a little damp too. God, if he notices the sweat on you, you’ll be opening that door and rolling out onto the road before he can shout at you to stop. 
At one point, he says, “You like the bike or the car more?”
And you say back, “Well, whichever one you like driving, Johnny,” cause the real answer is that one makes you dizzy and the other makes you act like you ain’t never seen a man before. You’re not precious neither, about what he thinks of you, but you’re not gonna go and say something that’ll make you sound like that now, are you?
By the time you’re finally getting out of that thing, you’re thinking thank God, cause you don’t know how much longer you could’ve survived without taking one of his hands off that steering wheel just to feel some part of him. Not in a freaky way, you know, just something to stop you thinking all crazy like. Some little bit of him to hold on to, like you have on the bike. 
Who would’a known that was the lesser evil of the two, right? At least when you’re pressed up against him like that he can’t look at you, all hungry and curious like he has been doing—and you can’t look at him neither, but you can feel him. All big and strong and warm. Then you don’t gotta sit and wonder like you were just then, going all crazy thinking about how it would be, how it would, well, you know. With his hands and his face and his lips and stuff. Thinking bout that, you know. 
So you get out the car, and for a few minutes you’re free, feeling normal, and he buys the tickets and the candy, and the soda that you need dowsing with, and you think, yeah, sure, you can play nice. You’re chatting and laughing just like last time. And he’s letting you go in first, cause he’s a gentleman with things like that, so it’s easy to feel like you’re a respectable person still. 
But then you’re sitting next to him again, and this time it’s in the dark, and his knees are touching yours, actually touching, cause your seats are closer in the theatre and he’s still spread out like he’s got a damn engine under him. 
Like, fuck, you feel altogether insane by the time the movie’s going. 
No other man’s ever got you like this, right? Sure feels that way at least, like you’re fifteen again, and letting the kid next door take you out for the very first time. All heart hammering and sweating like you ain’t never kept a guy’s company before. 
Johnny don’t notice of course. He’s watching the movie with both hands on his lil’ pouch of M&Ms, and every time he laughs, he’s no idea that his knee’s rubbing up on yours or that his elbow’s bouncing right into your arm. You don’t tell him though, cause these are perfectly normal things to happen on a date, right, and you wouldn’t want him to stop, you only want your brain to quit thinking all these things you ain’t got the right to know yet. 
Like how his lips are so big and pretty looking. Like they’re made for kissing, carved out just for that one thing, but they don’t make his face any less handsome, right, and you certainly wouldn’t call him pretty allover. Just, rugged, you know. Good to look at. And, Jeez, you can’t even go five minutes without something like that. Wondering what his lips are really like to kiss, or whether he’s got any more tattoos any place you can’t see. 
It’s a good thing you ain’t supposed to talk in here, cause the way this is going, something might slip out that you really shouldn’t say. So you just keep looking forward and watching the movie that you’re already losing track of. 
_____
Turns out, biting your tongue is worth it sometimes, cause about half way in you get the answer to one of those crazy questions of yours.
Only a little something, but it gets your heart going all over again. Out of nowhere, his hand goes right there on the arm rest between you, and it’s not just resting, it’s inviting, cause the palms up, you know, waiting for you. And when you don’t move, like you might not’ve seen him do it, he reaches and puts his fingers through yours until, yeah, you’re holding hands, and he’s sitting them both in the middle right where he wanted them.
Before, you’d been wondering if his hands were as rough as they looked like, and well, now you know. And they are. But that bird tattoo, that swallow by his thumb? That’s smooth as anything, and once you start feeling it, you can’t stop. Running your own thumb all over it like you’re in love or something. But his hands are a little cool, you know, compared to yours, and you guess you got some habit you can’t help, about warming things up by rubbing them all sweet like that. 
You guess you’re also feeling like he’s sort of familiar already, and that’s what you do when you hold a hand and it’s one you’re used to, right?
But how’s he got you feeling that way after doing so little? Like he’s got you holding hands and tracing swallows and thinking about his thigh against yours, when really, you’ve seen him three times and that’s it. Which is next to nothing, you know? You haven’t even kissed him properly yet. The other night, when he dropped you home, you got a peck on the cheek and a mouthful of cologne and that was that. Which you’re not complaining about, course not, it sent your heart scattering like a mouse across the kitchen floor, but normally you got a real hold of yourself at a point like this. 
Instead, here you are, acting like you know who he is and what he looks like under all the layers. Acting like maybe you wouldn’t mind so much to one day marry a sort of guy like him—if you were to marry anyone at all, that is. You figure one like Johnny wouldn’t be too bad. Quiet when he needs to be, rough looking, but nice still. Someone you couldn’t bring to your mother but would bring to an office party. It could work, you know, if you were ever really wanting something like that to work. 
Boy, you’re almost making yourself sick thinking about it. You barely know the guy and you got no interest in marrying, not any time soon, and God knows Johnny ain’t wanting that either, so what does it matter to you? You’re just thinking all sorts of things for the sake of thinking them—just to avoid thinking about all the other things that you’re trying not to think about and, yeah, you’re really going round in circles about it. If he could hear you now, he’d be leaving you right there in the dark. 
Then he breathes by your ear, and he’s whispering about the girl on screen looking like his Aunt Tina in a hair piece, and you laugh so loud the people in front turn round to shoot you with their eyes—until they see Johnny, that is. Cause then it’s right back to the screen again like they didn’t see nothing. Even in the dark, when all you can make out is what the light off the screen gives you, that jacket of his means something. One look at the leather and the patches and, whoosh. Suddenly nobody’s got the guts to say anything about it.
And the worst part? That all makes you feel even more like you’d marry him. Or someone like him, if it came up, of course. You’re even squeezing his hand a little afterwards, like you’re thanking him for it even though he didn’t do nothin. Just sat there looking mean, you know. 
But maybe you want someone sitting there looking mean. Maybe you don’t wanna be doing it for yourself no more, and are perfectly happy to let someone like Johnny do it for you.
Who knows, but you really should be watching the movie now anyhow, cause he’s gonna ask you all about it, you’re sure, and you don’t even know any of their names yet.  
_____
“So you like it?” he says after, just like you knew he would, when you’re walking back over the lot to that four wheel surprise of his. 
“Yeah, I think so.”
“What, you only think you like it?” He throws you one of them big, crumply, frowns, with a cigarette bouncing in his mouth already. “How can you not know if you liked it or not?”
“I’m still deciding,” you tell him, cause you are, cause you were distracted for most of it. But that part you’re not telling. “I know I prefer things where I can talk to you, though. Face to face and stuff.”
He don’t smile but his eyes do, and you know before he says anything, that he’s gonna say something in a real sort of a way, just to get a rise outta you. “There I was,” he says, “thinking I was doing something good, you know. Giving you a break from all that talking, Lips.”
“No way.” There it is. “That’s not stickin, Johnny.”
“Yeah…” He nods in a sorry looking way. “I kinda think it already has.” 
“And I kinda think three dates is enough. How’s that for thinkin?”
“Oh, calling it then, are you?”
“Yeah, I am.” But neither of you are pretending like you believe it, not even for a bit of a game to play; like it’s a given that you’re lying, you know, three dates and he and you both know you’re sticking around for more. No question. “You ever gonna light that thing?” you ask, pointing to the long smoke dangling over his chin. You’re at the car now and he still ain’t touched it, acting like he’s not even thought about it since he put it there.
“Was getting round to it,” he says, making no move to do anything other than standing there looking at you.   
And you’re looking right back. 
It’s dark out already, cause that movie was longer than you thought it’d be, but there’s enough street lights round here that nothin’s really hurting by it. He’s just got a little orange on him, shoulders glowing like you’re sitting with a campfire or something. 
So you lean back against his car, right on the driver’s side, and ask him what he thought of the movie, cause you can tell he’s thinking a lot on something or other, so you figure it’s probably that. And he sets off talking like you’re right, going on about one of them cowboys in particular, but you gotta admit, you're not listening to a word of it.
Real bad manners it is, really awful of you to get a guy talking and not even hear one thing he says, but Jeez, you’re just watching those lips and that cigarette and not helping yourself in any sort of way at all. You just agree and shake your head when it feels like the right thing to do—and you know you’re making it obvious, may as well be screaming kiss me, Johnny, kiss me, but he just keeps going. Talking more than you ever heard him talk about anything. 
And right when you think he might ask you something, or call you up on that look you’re giving him, he takes the smoke from his mouth and tosses it. Never even lit, clean as the day they made it, and he throws it right into that grimy little puddle there with no warning at all. He could’a kept it you know, put it back in the box and had it later, if he didn’t want it no more.
“What d’you do that for?” you ask him.
He says, “You wanna go?” 
It’s the way his voice sounds when he asks, it makes you frown a little. Like he’s upset or something. Or maybe, and most likely, he saw how rude you were being and got worked up about it, instead of going the other way. And you wanna tell him it’s not that at all, and you’re sorry, yeah, you’ll listen better now, but all you can do is shake your head at him. 
No, you don’t wanna go. What you want is—well, you’re trying to be good about it, cause he said before that you’re the first person he’s looked at in any real sort of way since Betty left, and that’s a whole load of weird, every step of the way for him, you know—but, God, what you really wanna do is kiss him. You want to kiss him. 
Guess he’s used to you by now, cause you’ve been so quiet that he notices something off about it. Then he don’t look upset, or mad, he just looks confused when he asks, “You okay?”
��Well, then you figure, screw being nice, just for a little bit. 
“I’m thinking it’s getting real hard to look and not touch,” you say.
Slips right out of you, gone without stopping, but you said it in a dazed kind of way, so it came out sort of nice, you guess. Honest without being crazy about it. And he says nothin, no surprise right, but you do catch something—yeah, right there, he goes and does it again—his eyes drop from looking at yours, to looking down at your mouth. Bingo. He’s thinking about it too. All you can do is wait it out.
After a second that feels like a minute that feels like an hour, his head shakes halfway and he says, “I don’t,” but that’s all he says, I don’t. Then he goes and pulls you into him. 
Just like that.
Two hands, either side of your face, scratchy on your cheek and cool feeling cause you got hot real fast, and then he’s kissing you. Not quick like some other guy might, but slow and careful like a man really thinking about it. Kissing you like. Well. Like nobody’s ever been kissing you before. 
You feel yourself curling in, right up close to him, and grabbing onto the edges of his jacket a little. Letting him kiss you, not the other way around, but doing all you can to keep it going, you know, cause you can tell by his lips, by the way he’s moving, he’s still sort of worrying about it. Like he knows how to but can’t remember yet, or doesn’t know if he likes your mouth enough to forget about the last one he was used to. 
And you’re not caring about anything to do with any of that, you’re just making sure you remember every bit of this, incase he decides he don’t like it after all.
But he keeps going still, and your mouth starts tasting like his mouth, which is like a load of ash and candy, cause he’s a sweet tooth, you know, who knew, and he was tossing them back like water in there. Which you’re glad of, cause somehow it’s all adding up to taste like the best sort of thing you’ve ever had, and you don’t think he’d get that title if it was just the cigarettes on his tongue.
When he pulls back—and God, you fight him on it—you make a noise like he hurt you. Embarrassing, right? A little whimper like an animal, or something, and that makes him keep you real close for a sec, just to be sure he didn’t actually hurt you somehow. Then you’re both saying “sorry” at the same time, for some reason. Sorry, you know, over nothin. 
And that’s dumb enough that you laugh right up against his lips, and he breathes in a lazy sort of way, all heavy like he’s not had his fill yet. 
Well, you’re already standing straight again and letting go of his jacket, cause it seems impolite to be tugging on him like that now he’s waiting a little, and one of his hands moves to your neck like he’s trying to leave but can’t make his body listen to his head. 
Course, you don’t mind either way. He could have another, or he could shove his hands in his pockets and rush you into the car, and you wouldn’t complain one bit because now you know. You know what it’s like. 
You’re smiling still too, while he looks at you all hungry like, and you know it’s in your mouth and your eyes and the way you find yourself saying to him,
“Take me home?”
Which is the wrong fuckin’ thing to say apparently, because his hands drop off you so quick it almost stings. Like you were never hot, he was, and now he ain’t there holding you the cold is real sharp feeling. Then he steps back a bit, and he’s clearing his throat and rubbing his nose with his knuckles, and you figure you’ve scared all of that right back out of him again.
“You know,” he says, like it really hurts him to say it, “I—I can’t. I mean. I don’t wanna rush into nothin with us, you know?” 
“I know,” you tell him. “Who’s rushing anything?”
You watch him scratch the back of his neck—always itching when he’s trying to get outta something, yeah, you seen him do it enough times already—and he’s screwing his face up like you ain’t getting it, and he can’t think of any way to put it that'll help. “We should probably, I mean.”
“You gonna tell me you don’t wanna date me no more?” you ask him.
Which is funny, cause you said that before he kissed you, and neither of you meant it then, but now there’s a little sour guy in your gut saying maybe, just maybe, you know. 
“No, no.” He shakes his head, voice all whiny like it actually is hurting. 
“Well what is it then?”
“I know how you get, yeah…you, when it gets like that. Taking you home, staying over. I mean," and then he says, "I can’t give you a life, you know?”
You stare at him real hard. “Did I ask you to?”
“Not yet, but,” he shrugs, “I’ve done all that before.”
A part of you is thinking, God, worrying about all that already? This guy’s a real piece of work. But the sensible part thinks, yeah, you too, even if you weren’t really thinking in any serious kinda way—plus he’s got a divorce two steps behind him, so why wouldn’t he be worrying about it? He’s figuring all this out like it’s brand fuckin’ new, and all the while trying to make sure you’re not getting cut up in the process. A little early on, sure, but that’s what you gotta do, right? Clear the gutter out before the rain comes.
So you tell him, “I only wanna spend time with you, Johnny.”
And he thinks on that, looking like he don’t believe anyone could ever say it and mean it, then he says, “S’pose that’s alright then, if that’s what it is.”
And you say, “Yeah, that’s what it is.” 
And when he drives you home, he’s got one hand on the wheel, and the other on his thigh, and you put your pinky round his like you’re scared of holding it proper. Scared of touching him like you’re used to doing it, and scared of him dropping you off without saying nothing else at all. Just your pinky and his pinky, and the radio on quiet like you’re dreaming, or something. 
But then it comes to it, and you get another taste of candy and ash right under your porch light.
It’s short and a little polite, like Mrs Saccone might be watching, but that don’t matter, cause you figure it means he’s decided you’re alright spending time with him still. Not rushing into nothing, yeah? 
He’s half-way down the steps again when he says, “See you tomorrow, Lips,” and he don’t even know if you’re free for him or not. Which you guess means you haven't scared him off at all, if that’s what it is. 
_________________
part four >>>>>>>
taglist: @garbinge @drabbles-mc @ashlingiswriting @raven-black102 @lyralu91 @hoodeddreams13 @businesscalamity
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hugejk · 2 months ago
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2 years.
due to high demand part 2 !!!! feedback is also very much appreciated <3
cw: addiction mentioned, rehab
||_________________||
After getting settled into your temporary home, you fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow. Being woken up to the bright orange sun. You get up. You still didn’t know what to do with yourself. I guess the comments were right. You really do need some professional help.
you just didn’t know where to start, rehab? therapy? checking yourself into a psych ward? You sit at the small work desk at the hotel, clicking the pen and scooting the small writing pad they provided. You assume the best place to start was the addiction problems. You go on your phone and look for places. You find the highest rated one, and call it.
“hi.uhm. i was just uhm… wondering if i can check in? like check myself into rehab.”
the man on the other line told you the process of checking yourself in. You had to go in person and stay there until they think you were better than you had started. This process might take a while. But you’re willing to do it.
You gather your things, planning what you were going to tell the lady downstairs,
“my flight got rescheduled for today.”
“my friend is back at their house i don’t need the room anymore.”
“my parents have a room for me at their place.”
heading out the room and towards the elevator. Spamming the down button to hurry and get to the place. You didn’t care to wear the disguise you had packed. Nobody would see you for a couple more months anyways. At least that’s what you thought.
as the doors opened up, you look up from your shoes and see two young men. One of them wearing a dark beard and the other…well he looks like a kid. Clean shaven face, big brown eyes, short brunette hair.
“that’s exactly what i- wait aren’t you y/n?”
the one with the dark beard said as he pointed at you.
fuck.
“…do you want a picture?…”
you couldn’t even deny it, people recognized you so much now that you can’t say no to pictures, or else people would think your a rude arrogant celeb. And them boom there goes the grammy nomination, the awards, the money. everything you had worked so hard for.
you were so stuck in your head that you didn’t realize he was as talking to the younger one.
“this is the singer i was telling you about just the other day! you know…the one you said was-“
he was cut off by the brunette slapping his arm, giving him the “don’t you dare” look.
“look, i don’t have the time for this, do you want something? i have to be somewhere.”
you didn’t mean to be rude, but you just wanted to be fixed already. You didn’t have time to stop and talk with these guys. You notice the small badge on their nike sweaters.
“oh sorry——you know our football club is sponsored by spotify? you could totally be this years sponsor.”
the beard said to you, side eyeing the brunette and wiggling his eyebrows. Something was up. You just didn’t care enough to ask.
“uhm.yeah. sure whatever.”
you weren’t even planning on making new music anytime soon. you brush it off and push the down button for the other elevator. You didn’t want to be anywhere near a person right now.
now that you were alone in the elevator, you started to wonder and replay how the beard and the brunette were acting. As you got downstairs to the lobby, your worst fear. A packed lobby with screaming people and more guys all wearing the same nike hoodie, that logo.
you make a pit stop at the bathrooms to put on your glasses and mask, there was no way you couldn’t get away from this one. You blend back into the crowd, asking the nearest person,
“what’s this all about?”
“do you live under a rock? this is the best football club of all time right in front of us! FC barcelona!”
that’s when it finally hit you, the logo seemed so familiar. You remember watching a few el classicos with your dad when you were little. How could you forget?
But you had more important things to do that day. You thanked the person who reminded you of the club and went on with your day. Walking with your head down and airpods in, you arrived to your new home for a few months.
you open the door and walk up to the front desk,
“uhm..hi. id like to check myself in..”
you say with your head down, feeing ashamed that you were asking for help. You could’ve done this on your own but here you are.
“okay! before we check you in we’re gonna have to have you fill these papers out, and i hope you know what your doing right now is brave and your in good hands.”
crazy. It’s like the lady behind the desk could read your unsure mind. Her words repeat and bounce around in your head. Taking the papers and taking a seat in the lobby. It was small, and empty.
You have no idea what’s to come but surely it’ll be the best for you.
||_____________________||
tags: @pabl0andm3 @spidybaby @htpssgavi @alexis1taylorr
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gretavangroupie · 6 months ago
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The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 7)
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Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader
Word Count: 10.2k
Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Crying.
Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify
A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.
A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.
"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."
DUBLIN, IRELAND
HER POV
“There,” you whispered, putting the final touches on the food display. You gathered up the empty boxes and trash and made your way out the back door of the venue to dispose of them. You hoped you wouldn’t see anyone along the way, keeping your AirPods in as a public declaration to leave you alone.
You’d thrown yourself into work the last week, doing things that didn’t even fall under your scope of work just to fill the time. Your phone was on mute, but that didn't stop the calls. The texts. The songs. They all still came, but you paid them no mind. You couldn’t. You couldn’t be that girl. You couldn’t be the one to ruin a relationship. 
You hadn’t spoken to Jake since the friend request came through. You still hadn’t even accepted it. You didn’t know if you even should. She obviously knew who you were, and that alone scared you more than anything. How did she know?
You hadn’t spoken to Josh either. He had done his best to avoid you since that night in the bar, his look more than disappointed as he walked away. You felt a twinge of regret that you’d let him down, but you and Jake were nothing, and he has a girlfriend. He should be more mad at Jake than you. 
A call rings through your AirPods, the robotic voice alerting you to Ruth’s Facetime call. You make the split second decision to accept it, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the green button. 
“Hello,” you answer, shielding your face from the sun. 
“God, it’s so weird that it’s sunset there and I’m just now eating breakfast,” she says, taking a bite of a bagel. 
“Babes it’s literally what, noon there? Why are you just now eating breakfast?”
“Ugh, this isn’t about me, quit changing the subject,” she gripes.
“What?! I just–”
“Did you accept it yet?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. 
“No! Are you insane! Why would I do that! Then she would know that I know who she is, and then she would know that I know she knows who I am!” you shout. 
“Yeah, I…am not even gonna try to decipher what you just said,” she says, shaking the ice in her coffee. 
“Ruth! Ugh!”
“What!? I’d accept it, you have nothing to hide. It’s not like you’re posting about him.”
“But–”
“But what? Show her you’re a hot bitch and she should be scared!” she laughs, tilting her head side to side. 
“You are actually a terrible influence,” you scoff. 
“Fine, what about McSexy,” she says, slurping up the last bits of coffee through her straw.
“Are you done with that yet? GOD.”
“You’re so dramatic,” she laughs, tossing it into the trash. “Spill about Beefy McGuns before I throw myself off a cliff.”
“Yeah I am the dramatic one,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Murph is…well, he’s good I guess. We have been hanging out a little bit since… ya know. We snuck into the hotel pool a few days ago, got Gelato night before last and last night we went to Temple Bar because the guys had an outing thing.”
“Okay, so you and McDouble are like kinda hot and heavy courting,” she asks. 
“Please don’t call him McDouble, that is gross. I mean, courting sounds kinda…more serious than it is. We are just hanging out.”
“A lot.”
“Yeah, kind of a lot,” you admit. 
“Do you like him more than Mr. Pene-Traitor?”
“RUTH ANNE!” you shout, trying to stifle back laughter. 
“Answer the question,” she snaps. 
“No! I don’t know! I mean, I like them equally for different reasons,” you answer.
“Well who is better in the sack?”
“Um…”
“Oh my god, you haven't slept with McSexy yet?” she asks, mouth gaping open.
“No! It hasn’t…gone there yet,” you reply. 
“Yet…So you intend for it to…” she smirks. 
“Well, I wouldn’t hate it,” you laugh. “I’m kinda like not planning to sleep with Jake again after all this shit. Murph seems less…complicated. He’s fun, and respectful, and we just mesh so well when we hangout. We have a lot in common and it’s just so easy. It’s not serious or anything but I’m trying to see where this thing goes.”
“So guitar daddy is out, officially…”
“Jesus Christ, Ruth.” you sigh, “I mean I haven't spoken to him in almost a week now. I’ve been ignoring every attempt and conveniently finding myself in the opposite room as him. I don't know what to even say to him without exploding so I have just been saying nothing.”
“Has he added any songs or anything?” she asks, quirking a brow. 
“A few but I haven’t replied,” you answer. 
“Oh I bet it’s eating him up, too.”
You shrug your shoulders as you see the back door open, Sam stepping out to light up a cigarette. 
“Hey, I gotta go, the family unit is present,” you say quietly nodding your head to the side. 
“Okay, well, personally I think you should accept her request. I’d think it's more suspicious that you haven’t if I were her. Maybe she just wants to talk.”
“I will think about it,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Alright alright, and don’t forget my souvenir. I want one with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and an Irish accent.”
“You are actually so annoying.”
Your phone dings in your ear as a text flashes across the screen. 
“Oh shit,” you gasp. “It’s Murph.”
“What's up McBeefy?!” Ruth shouts. 
You open the text, reading it over quickly as a smile crosses your face. 
“Oh okay, why are you blushing Y/N? Huh, huh? Why you smiling like that?”
“So, he just said that The Black Keys are going to be in Glasgow on our day off next week,” you say, a little shocked. 
“As in The Black Keys that you’ve loved your whole life Black Keys?”
“Those would be the ones…”
You
6:02PM: How did you know I love them?
Murph
6:03PM: Just had a feeling 😉
Murph
6:04PM: I’m gonna tell the guys, I’m sure they will want to go. 
You
6:05PM: I definitely want to go.
Murph
6:06PM: Well good thing I just bought us tickets
“Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” Ruth shouts, and truthfully you forgot she was on the line. 
“Fuck, sorry,” you say, reopening Facetime.
“What did you say?!”
“I told him I want to go and he said he already bought us tickets,” you smile. 
“Mmhm, yeah it’s not serious at all though,” she mocks. 
“Gotta go! Love you bye!” you smile, ending the call and shoving your phone into your pocket.
You nod to Sam as you walk back into the building, making your way back into the greenroom to finish up. Your music begins to play through your AirPods again, and you feel a sense of calmness now that you’ve gotten a little reassurance from Ruth. You tidy up the room a bit, grabbing a few empty cans and chip bags and banishing them to the trash can that is seemingly invisible to these four men.
Just as you turn around you see Jake stepping into the room with his eyes on you. 
Fuck. 
You jump back a bit in shock, watching as he throws his hands up in innocence.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, a guilty look on his face. 
You pull your earbuds from your ears and place them in their case as you lean against the wall behind you. “It’s fine. What’s up?” you ask, trying to seem casual. 
“You think we can talk for a second?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin. 
“Um, right now? I’m just finishing this up?” you counter, not really feeling like this is the best time for, well, this. 
He walks over to the small couch, tapping the spot next to him, “Please, just for a second.”
His brown eyes lock with yours and you know there is no way you can deny him. He had that effect on you. You nod and walk over to him, sitting next to him. Maybe this is it. 
You watch as he pulls in a deep breath as if trying to organize the thoughts in his head. He swallows nervously and turns his gaze to you. 
“You know, this last week has been…well, to be honest, it’s been complete shit,” he starts, locking his fingers together. “We went from seeing each other nearly every day and texting and everything to…whatever this is. Not speaking…”
You nod your head, wanting to hear his piece before giving your own. 
“I miss you. I’ve missed you a lot. I have hated every second of this silence and I would very much like to get things back to how they were before… all of this.”
Did Josh not tell him about Murph? Surely he had…
His hand reaches for yours, grabbing it in his own as he continues and you are praying he is ready to come clean. 
JAKE POV
“I know I’ve been a total and complete asshole, Y/N, and you don’t deserve that. That’s not me,” you go on, squeezing her hands in yours. Your voice continues to crack, and the emotion you feel while telling her all this actually surprises you. It’s hard to talk to her, hard to get things out. But you only know that it is because you’re positive that it all means something bigger. Your internal alarm clock is ticking, you can feel the time to get on stage is drawing closer and closer. “I just want you to know how sorry I am.”
“Jake, listen. I appreciate your apology, but I'm still not even sure what you’re sorry for? I mean, I know shit went sideways but, you never even told me why…” she goes on, pure confusion painting her expression. “I know that I was and am being left in the dark about something, and I don’t want to end up looking like the idiot.”
“Fuck, I know,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. You can feel the bile swirling in your stomach as you prepare to speak again. “If you… I want to talk to you some more, and explain myself, but…”
“...You go on in like fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet,” she answers.
You nod, sucking in your bottom lip. Her eyes are glazed over, not with tears, but with some other overwhelming sentiment. Your voice shakes as you go on. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a long story I want to tell you.”
She takes a second to consider, and you know that she could just as easily tell you to fuck off, get away from her, and to never speak to her again. But instead she nods, meeting your eyes with pity. “It’s hard saying yes to this Jake, I’m not gonna lie…”
“I know it is. I know it, I’m so sorry, I’m just. You deserve to hear it all. From me,” you beg. The anxiety of it all is making you dizzy, and you hadn’t even told her anything yet. But you’re positive that when the time comes, it will all be worth it. She’s worth it. 
“Please trust me.”
She nods again. “Just…come to my room after the show?”
“I’ll be there,” you agree with a smile, and you feel the faintest hint of positivity, a tiny flame burning at the end of the tunnel. 
After an electric show, you dab the towel across your forehead and neck, wiping away the heavy sweat beads that continue to pour down. 
“Just keeps getting better and better, guys!” Paul compliments you as you pass by, making your way down the hall to the green room. 
“Thanks, man. Appreciate you,” you reply with a pat to his shoulder.
“Daniel, you hitting the shower?” you ask as you watch him take a seat on a red leather chair.
“Mm, here in a few, gonna have a drink first.” He pulls Mia over by the hand to sit on his lap, playfully wiping his sweat-covered arm across her face. “Where are Josh and Sam?”
You quietly walk over to the craft table, giving Y/N a sweet glance as you grab a mini bag of chips from the box, watching as she and Ty fiddle around with whatever random food is displayed across the table. “I dunno, they seemed like they were bickering all night, did you notice that?”
“Mmmhm,” Danny says through a long drink of a seltzer. “I could literally see the fuckin’ blurry tension between them, who the hell knows. He say anything to you, Ly?”
“Mmm, nope. Didn’t say anything to me…” Lyla avoids his gaze. You glance to Ty, and he offers you the same answer.
Just then, Josh and Sam burst through the door in a huffed mess of antics, yelling obscenities at one another as Josh’s hands fly up in the air around him. These two rarely fight, but every once in a while, one of them will get under the other’s skin. And sometimes it’s even worse, when they both manage to piss the other off so profusely, things can sometimes get physical. 
Josh’s voice is raised, and Sam’s face and neck are blotched red. You know that whatever it is, it isn’t good. 
“How about you stay the hell out of my face and sit the fuck down somewhere, huh?” Sam yells, grabbing a White Claw from the mini fridge and chugging it all almost in one drink. Your eyes dart directly to Danny who is just as stunned as you are, and equally as confused. 
“I’ll sit the fuck down when you stop running your fucking mouth, Sam,” Josh barks.
“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is going on?” you ask, moving toward them.
“Oh nothing, nothing, brother. Nothing at all,” Sam huffs, fury raging from him. You watch his eyeliner-covered eyes skitter across the room and finally land on Y/N, glaring at her from his peripheral. What the fuck?
For some reason, just his look pisses you off. 
“Not nothing, the fuck is your problem?” you ask him again, shooting your eyes between him and Josh. You see Mia rise up from Danny’s lap, joining Lyla on the couch. They sit closely together, and you swear they’re both biting back laughs. 
You finally move your eyes to Josh, giving him a stern look only the two of you can understand. ‘You got something to say?’ you ask him in your mind. 
He replies with an eye roll, shrugging his shoulders as he slips his stage jacket off. Josh is biting his tongue, you can tell, and the look in his eye is one you’ve seen often. With whatever rage he’s harboring mixed with the however many fireball shots he’s taken tonight, this could get bad. 
You look at Danny, as he knows the heavy feeling in the room all too well, too. You mentally ask him for backup.
Danny stands and clears his throat. “Uh, so… we going out tonight? We’re wasting moonlight if so…”
You jump in and agree. “Yeah, yeah let’s go grab a Guinness or something.” The room stays quiet as you and Danny make moves to get going, but the heaviness is still there. You decide to turn the attention elsewhere. “Y/N, Ty, you coming out with us?”
You can tell that Y/N feels like she’s invading the awkward encounter that’s currently happening in the room, just from her body language. 
“Yeah, um, sure… I suppose…” she says meekly. You offer her a little grin of reassurance.
“Oh, you mean you’re not hanging out with Murph tonight? Shocking!” Josh interjects, the tone of his voice menacing. Your head shoots to him. 
Y/N shakes her head, her entire demeanor falling. “Uh, no? No, why would I…” she stammers. 
“Just figured,” Josh continues, “You guys seemed pretty cozy the other night when I caught you making out at the bar in Paris, just thought you’d be continuing the festivities!”
“Josh!” Ty yells.
Hold…the fuck…on…
Your ears go deaf as you process Josh’s words, all the blood draining from your body, your extremities numb, your throat instantly dry. What the fuck. What the fuck??? He’s lying… That’s not true… she wouldn’t…
You hear a collective snicker from Mia and Lyla, both of them obviously loving whatever fucking show is happening right now. 
You somehow find the courage to look at Y/N, her face bloodshot and dripping with embarrassment as she turns away.
You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Making out? With Murph? Paris… a week ago? And Josh didn’t bother to…
You can’t find the will to move, or speak, or breathe or anything. Your mind is wracked with confusion and stress, wondering what in the hell is going to happen next.
HER POV
Your heart is pounding in your chest as you turn to look at Josh. 
Why? Why did he say that?
Your eyes scan the room as everyone stares at you, but all you can focus on is the look on Jake's face. It was a look similar to the one you received from Josh that night, but Jake’s hurt worse. Hit you deeper. You feel the knife twisting in your chest. 
You can see his neck growing red, the color creeping up into his cheeks as his anger starts to bubble up. Your eyes flash over to Mia and Lyla who are snickering in the corner like two highschool bullies. 
You shake your head and press your tongue to your cheek as you try to figure out an appropriate response. You decide at that moment that you owe none of them a single word. You silently grab your things and head to the door, brushing Jake’s shoulder as you pass. 
“Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, are you?”
You cut your eyes to Josh, completely shocked at his audacity to speak about something that didn’t involve him so publicly. It seemed out of character for him and you can tell by the way everyone is reacting to his outburst. 
You barely make it through the back door as the tears start to fall against your will. You feel so embarrassed. Everything has gotten so out of hand and now Josh hates you and you know Jake isn’t too far behind him. 
You just need to go back to your hotel room. Go back and be alone and cry in peace. You pull your phone from your purse and find the address for the hotel, and much to your displeasure, you see that it is a brisk three mile walk. Not to mention it is 42 degrees. You lock your phone in frustration knowing you have to go back inside and wait for the van to take you all back. 
You sneak back inside and head straight for the bathroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and sitting down on the toilet bowl. You know the van isn’t going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, if not more. You let the tears flow freely in the confines of the bathroom stall, until you physically can’t anymore. You dry up your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt as a notification from Ruth pushes through. 
Ruth
11:43PM: You do it yet?
You decide to bite the bullet. Who even cares anymore at this point?
You open Instagram and tap on her request, hitting the little blue ‘accept’ button and watching as her page populates with photos. Right off the bat you see how pretty she is, every picture perfectly effortless and aesthetically pleasing. Then, you see Jake. Happy, smiling, and holding her. Recently.
You're surprised by the feelings swirling through you, as you’d convinced yourself that your feelings for him were much smaller than they apparently were. You look at every single photo, and with each swipe you feel your own guilt start to grow larger and larger. 
Had you ruined this?
You hear noise in the hallway and know that they are leaving, heading to the bar or wherever they decided. You wait until you hear them leave, letting yourself out of the stall and into the empty hallway. As you approach the green room you know you want to get in, finish cleaning up, and leave, avoiding as many people as humanly possible. You press your ear to the door to listen for voices, but you hear nothing and know that the coast is clear. 
Though, when you open the door, you are met with someone, and thankfully it’s a friendly face. You see Ty grabbing the canned drinks from the fridge and throwing them into a cooler. He spots you, looking relieved and stops what he’s doing. 
“There you are,” he sighs in relief. 
“Wha– What are you doing here, I thought everyone left?”
He walks towards you, taking you into a hug before you can even process what he’s doing. It’s as if he already knows how you’re feeling and you fall into it, letting him wrap you up in his arms. 
“I’ve been around long enough to know how shit tends to go down in this family. I knew that Josh was in one of his moods tonight and Sam pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of things. I don’t blame you for walking out, but I am glad you came back.”
“Why are you always looking out for me?” you ask, feeling like you might cry all over again. 
“Real recognizes real, baby,” he winks, releasing you from the hug and returning back to the cooler. 
“Ty,” you whine, knowing you don't deserve his kindness. 
“Look, I know I shouldn’t, because he needs to do this himself, but I am really sorry about Josh. I’m gonna make him apologize to you as soon as I see him, I swear.”
“No, no, no. It’s okay. He is right. This whole thing is a mess and he and Jake and shit, even Sam, have the right to be mad at me. I fucked up.”
He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s a little bit of a mess but, it will get cleaned up. And as for Sam, I don’t think Sam is mad at you, per say, but more of just the situation and how he learned of it. There’s been some other shit going on with him lately, but don’t you worry I’m on your team, here.”
“You don’t need to be on my team, Ty. You have dealt with enough of my shit,” you laugh, hoping he doesn’t actually take your advice. 
He closes the cooler up and takes one last look around the room, both of you finding it spotless. “Oh, just let me. This is my shit and I am used to corralling these rowdy motherfuckers, I do it in my sleep.”
You laugh and shake your head, “Alright, alright, fine.”
He nods in victory before turning to you again, “You’re coming to the bar, right?”
“No, I’m probably gonna go back to the hotel and cry some more.”
“Actually, you’re not. You’re gonna go back to the hotel, pretty yourself up and come meet me.” He flits his hand to his chest as he points to himself. “I’ll text you the address when I get there.”
“Ty I can’t! I can’t even face Jake right now! And Mia and Lyla… I don’t know…” you stammer. 
“No, hang out with me all night. You don’t even have to talk to those bitches, I don’t half the time.”
You laugh at his honesty, and realize maybe you could go tonight.
“I don’t know…”
“Listen, it will look a lot worse if you don’t go darling,” he says, tilting his head to the side. You know he’s right. 
“Alright, fuck it.”
TY POV
Involving yourself in other people’s business wasn’t always your forte. In fact, it was something you tried to stray far, far away from. The thought of adding unnecessary stress into your life seemed daunting and pointless, especially when the outcome ended up being opposite of the one you desired, but, nonetheless… You find yourself here, completely involved in whatever drama is transpiring between Jake and Y/N. 
It’s none of your business in the least. It never was. But you could tell from the get-go that if no one else was going to step in and try to help each of them realize what was happening in front of them, you would have to be the one to do it. Who better, honestly?
You told Jake from the beginning that Isla seemed shady… though at first the two of them seemed like the happiest of two human beings, just like all new relationships do. She was good for him, and he treated her well. The day he told you and Josh that he told her he loved her, you were happy for him. Happy for them both. Things were good and they were taking Jake’s career changes in stride together. That was until you started to see straight through that bitch. 
That’s right, you’re not uncomfortable saying it anymore. She turned into a true-blue, cold hearted bitch. 
What started off as snide little remarks to Jake, in public, grew into full-blown insults that had you left with your mouth hanging open in disbelief. He let it slide off his back, though, and you swore it was like no one else even noticed it. How her behavior had changed almost overnight. You could see the respect she once held for Jake morphing into resentment right before your eyes, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal. 
It didn’t take long, though, for Josh’s twin-sense to be set off when he felt Jake’s normally low-key temper burning into fury; he was quite literally like a pot that was going to boil over anytime. Josh realized, but you don’t think he ever really realized, though to you, it was plain as fucking day. 
You and Josh welcomed him into your home, let him crash on the couch or in the guest room after he’d run away from her. It almost started to drive you insane that everyone else was just watching on as he let her walk all over him, all in the name of what everyone thought was love.
No. Fuck that. She may have loved him, but your senses absolutely buzzed with the feeling that all she was there for anymore was his status and fame. It made you sick how she took advantage of his popularity and his talent, only wanting to go out with him if it meant she’d be seen attached to his arm, only wanting to support him when it meant she’d reap the benefits. Made you fucking sick. 
But, like a good brother in law, you kept your mouth shut for the most part, until one day things got so bad you realized that Jake had seen the light, fully disconnecting himself from her right before you all left for this tour. 
And the minute you realized he was taking interest in Y/N, you felt like your heart could explode with relief for him. Finally, a distraction. The day you let him know how you felt about Isla in the bar was the first time you really said anything at all to him, hoping that your words of honesty would help to further the situation. 
But now… Now. Fuck, it seems like things have gotten messier than you anticipated. Y/N is the first person you’ve met in a while who matches your energy, who connects with you without any effort to do so. You like her a lot, and you are fighting to be on her team. But damn, if it doesn’t seem like she just dug herself into a hole…
So after what the fuck ever just happened in the green room, you know it’s time to strap your boots on and fix things, or at least try to. You’re no stranger to mediating arguments within this family, so you feel no shame in waltzing into this bar with a new flame lit under you. You’ve gotta fix this. For Y/N, and for Jake. 
You blow warm air into your hands as you walk into the bar, finding everyone gathered around a large table together. Good, they haven’t ripped each others’ heads off yet.
You take an empty seat next to Josh, greeting him with a quipped ‘Hey’ as you’re still a little bit pissed at his behavior earlier. His hand lands on your thigh, but you quickly pull it away, knowing that if you’re going to be the middleman here, everyone has to be on a level playing field. 
“The hell is wrong with you?” Josh slurs into your ear. 
You shoot a look his way, letting him know that now is not the fucking time. A quick glance around at everyone tells you that they’re all already fairly intoxicated, still sneering at one another overtop of their half-empty glasses. Great. Perfect. 
You take notice that Murph isn’t here, which is a good thing right now. He might need to stay behind and let the others have it tonight. You cross your arms over your chest as you make yourself comfortable in your seat. You clear your throat dramatically, effectively getting the attention of the table.
“Alright motherfuckers, who wants to tell me exactly what just happened in the green room?” you demand, taking a second to look Sam and Josh in the eyes first. The entire table groans and waves you off, except Sam, who gives you a look that says ‘Can’t tell you right now, but I will explain later…” He then does a quick glance to Lyla. You take mental note of that. 
Of course, Josh speaks first. “There’s not much to say, Ty… I caught our runner making out with our head of security last week, I don’t know what else you want me to say…”
“I want you to tell the table why you are so pissed off about that, Josh. Why are you so concerned with something that isn’t your business?” you quip back.
Josh mirrors your stance, crossing his own arms as he motions to Jake. “Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you ask my fucking twin, huh?” Everyone then turns all their attention to Jake, putting him directly in the spotlight. Your stomach turns over with nerves as you feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. You don’t want to do things this way. But, you’ve learned from experience, getting it all out on the table is the best way for them to do things like this. 
Jake is standing, running his tongue across his teeth, his face already glimmering with a nervous sweat. “Okay, fuck it,” he sets his beer down on the table, yanking a free chair out from underneath it and harshly taking a seat. “Y/N and I have been hooking up since tour started. Pretty regularly. Thought things were good. But I guess it doesn’t fucking matter anymore since apparently I was dumb to the fact that she’s more into our beloved Murphy.” You can tell he is seething. 
You hear Mia and Lyla gasp like the news was brand new to them. “So it’s fucking true, then, huh Jacob?!” Lyla practically yells, leaning over the table at him. “Ohhh, we fucking knew it, you sorry ass bitch.”
“It’s actually none of your fucking business, Lyla, so why don’t you lay the fuck off,” he retaliates.
You watch Mia put her hand on Lyla’s chest as she leans across her toward Jake, her words spitting with venom to him. “Actually it is my fucking business, Jake, Isla is my best friend you absolute dick! And she’s your fucking girlfriend!”
Jake almost stands from his chair completely, leaning over to her now. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore, Lyla! She hasn’t been for a long time! She just won’t admit it to anyone or even herself! Don’t speak on things you have absolutely no fucking idea about, Lyla. It’s not a good fucking look.” Jake is visibly vibrating with rage. You feel Josh doing the same.
Next thing you know you hear Sam bellowing toward Jake. “Hey, don’t fucking speak to her like that, man, or I swear to god–”
“Oh, I’d be fucking careful, Sam, given I know all the dirty details about our little conversation in my room the other night…” Jake defends himself with a finger pointed directly to Sam. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth. 
Sam gives Jake a death glare that you know all too well, as Lyla turns in her seat to face him. “What the fuck is he talking about, Samuel? Is that why you disappeared drunk off your ass the other night? To go to Jake’s room? What did you talk about?”
Sam closes his eyes as he tries to diffuse his rage. “What the fuck ever, I’m just pissed everyone knew about Y/N and Jake besides me,” he slurs. “Always failing to let me in on the fuckin’ secrets.” You roll your eyes at Sam, suddenly confused and intrigued about what kind of conversation he had with Jake, anyway. 
“This is why, Sam! Right here! Shit blows up!” Jake yells. 
Josh groans, leaning his elbows on the table to Jake. “Yeah, just like I fucking told you it would.”
Jake scoffs hard. “Don’t talk to me about shit blowing up when you didn’t tell me for a god damn week that she was fucking around with Murph behind my back, Josh!”
“Ohhhhhoho, don’t try and pull that, I told you this shit wasn’t going to work anyway,” Josh responds with a sneer. 
“Wasn’t going to work?!” Mia yells. “What do you mean, wasn’t going to fucking work?! You have a girlfriend Jacob, are you a fucking idiot?!”
You watch as Danny physically lets his face fall into his hands, shaking his curls side to side.
“Alright, alright, everybody calm the fuck down,” Josh says loudly, actually qualming a situation for once in his life. “Let’s take a break, let’s talk this out.”
You dart your head to the side to give him a sharp look. “No, Josh, you’re the one who opened your big mouth in the green room and set everybody off, let’s hash this shit out right now. Everyone’s doing an excellent job of letting it all fly. Let’s not stop now,” you argue, putting your foot down. You motion with your hand to everyone at the table. “Keep going, let’s go…”
You hear a wholehearted laugh come from Jake at Josh’s expense.
Sam looks at Lyla, raising his voice a little. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking irritable lately?”
Oop, shouldn’t have gone there, kid.
She shoots back in her chair, looking as if she’s ready to pounce on him. “Whoa, whoa, irritable? Excuse me? Actually ya know what, yeah, I guess it fucking is!” She yells. “You’d be fucking pissed too, wouldn’t you?!”
“I guess I don’t know, since nobody ever fucking tells me anything!” Sam retaliates with his hands in the air.
“Sam you have got to be fucking kidding me… Do you not remember me sleeping on your couch for days at a time? Do you think I just did that because I missed you? Be serious…” Jake says with a little sincerity in his tone. 
“I don’t know! Shit, I guess I just thought you were…”
“Thought I was what?! Bored? Lonely? Hated my own home? Well, I guess that last one kinda makes fucking sense, now, huh?” Jake goes on, running a hand over his mouth.
Lyla speaks up. “All those nights you spent at our house Jake… you know Isla cried herself to sleep each and every one. Talked to me on the phone until 3AM until she couldn’t cry anymore because you fucking left her, over and over again–”
Jake leans his elbows on the table, hiding his face behind his folded hands. You can tell by the redness in his face that he is holding himself back from absolutely laying into Lyla. 
“Oh, you don’t even want to start with me, Lyla…” he grits his teeth, the vein in his head pulsing with rage again. 
“Chill out, Jake…” you hear Josh warn under his breath. 
“Do you know why I left, Lyla? Over and over again?!” His tone calms. “Yeah, I bet you don’t because all you care about is her fucking side of the story… did it not occur to you that I have one, too? What about my fucking feelings, huh? How do you know she’s not purposefully making me out to look like the bad guy? I bet nothing was her fault, was it? Hm?” He asks, looking around the table. Everyone stays silent, avoiding his glare. 
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No one bothered to come and ask me what was wrong, hear my side of the story. Fucking figures, she always gets what she fucking wants, anyway,” he goes on, suddenly able to breathe through his words. “None of you cared to realize I’ve been fucking miserable for months? Tried ending things for months? I bet not, huh. You only got lies and a sob story from Isla.” He takes a deep breath. Keep going Jake…
“So yeah, I tried to end things with Isla. Multiple times. Now I know I have royally fucked up with making my life messier than it needs to be–”
“She still fucking lives with you, Jake–” Lyla cuts. 
“Yeah, I fucking know that, genius,” he eyes her sideways. “You think this has been easy for either of us? I asked her to move out way before we started packing for this fucking tour… So yes. I did start hooking up with someone else. And you know what? I don’t regret a goddamn second of it. I finally found something that makes me fucking happy, and not miserable every single second of my life. And if you want to know why I think my actions are justified, you can speak to me directly about it. I’m a grown fucking adult, and I don’t owe you a goddamn thing if you don’t even have the decency to speak to me about my own fucking business…” Jake cuts his eyes directly to Mia and Lyla, making them sink back in their seats a little. 
Fuck yes, Jacob. Fuck. Yes. 
Just then, like a sitcom hitting its dramatic peak, Murph enters the bar, leaving everyone gathered around the table even more speechless than they were before. You feel a collective breath be taken by everyone before Jake shoots up from his seat. “Another round?”
Hell yes. Success. 
Well, kind of. Progress. 
You look at your phone, seeing that Y/N had texted you a ‘?’ about fifteen minutes ago. 
“Perfect timing, Y/N is on her way here, too!” you announce, your voice full of pep. 
“You’re shitting me, right,” Josh murmurs under his breath to you. 
“Good, great. Grand. A big family reunion, huh?” Jake says sarcastically in his faux-accent. “I’m over the fucking moon.” Jake darts his eyes to Murph for a split second before making his way back to the bar. 
You take a second to hide your phone under the table, texting Y/N back.
You
12:32AM: Come. Sit with me. I’ll have a drink waiting for you. 
HER POV
Your palms are sweating with nervous energy, despite the freezing cold weather. You almost didn’t go. You talked yourself out of it three times before you ever left the room, but knowing that Ty was waiting for you was enough of a reason to go. He liked you, looked out for you and treated you like a friend even though he didn’t have to. You could suck it up for one night. 
As you push the door open you’re immediately met with warm air and the smell of stale beer. It’s loud in the small bar and terribly lit, making it hard to find the group. You see a hand wave you in its direction, and at the end of it, Ty. The table he is sitting at is fairly empty, most of the group dispersed throughout the bar, playing pool or darts. He pulls out the barstool next to him, sliding a drink in your direction. 
“You made it!” he smiles, watching you sit down next to him. 
“I did. What’s going on, I feel kinda weird about being here,” you admit. 
“Ahhh, don’t worry about it, everything is fine. Promise.” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Everyone is pretty drunk now, and has already forgotten about earlier.”
You glance around the smoky bar and as you look behind you, your eyes meet with Josh’s, who is giving you the most apologetic eyes you’ve ever seen. You give him a curt smile, and turn back around, knowing that a conversation with him is low on your list of priorities at the moment. 
You spend most of the next hour with Ty, laughing and discussing anything and everything that does not have to do with Greta Van Fleet. He’s a sweet guy and you can tell why Josh fell for him, with his ability to make everyone feel heard and wanted, so easily. 
You’re two drinks in when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your conversation with Ty. You turn to look at the person, but you can smell that it’s Jake, his cologne at the forefront of your mind. You feel him lean down to your ear, his breath on your neck. 
“I’d still like to talk tonight,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 
You take a deep breath and try to center yourself. You turn fully to look at him, seeing that he is not nearly as mad as he seemed earlier, and you know you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear his side of the story you’ve pieced together over the last week. You nod at him as your eyes meet his, and he nods back, stepping away to return to the bar already going over what he will likely say later.
— 
An hour later you find yourself in your hotel room, pacing as you anxiously wait to hear from Jake. He left the bar before you did, deciding to ride back with Ty and Josh after the others left. You took a shower and tidied up your room and still, you haven't heard from him, that is, until your phone buzzed on the dresser. 
Jake
1:47AM: What is your room number?
Shit! Okay. 
You
1:48AM: 407
You know it won't be long until he is knocking on the door, and your heart is beating hard in your chest. You try to slow your breathing and calm your heart rate before he gets here, but you know it's no use because it will spike again as soon as you see him. 
The knock echoes through the room and you make your way to the door, swallowing back your nerves. As you open the door you find him standing there with one hand in his sweats pocket, and the other gripping a CD. 
You look at it as he presents it to you, a smug smile on his face as you realize what it is. 
‘An Awesome Wave’.
“This is–”
“The album we listened to on the plane, yeah,” he finishes, smiling as he steps into your room. “Found it in a record shop the other day in London. Thought of you and that first time we talked on the plane.”
You both step further into the room, your heart already twisting at his sweet gesture. He thought of you. You sit on the edge of the bed as you stare at the CD in your hands. 
“Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Murph like that, I never meant for that to come out like that,” you offer, letting your eyes flick up to meet his as he stands in front of you. 
“Look, I came here to apologize to you, Y/N. Not the other way around. You said I’m not the only one with secrets, and I guess that’s true, but I am more interested in setting the story straight and finding out what secrets you seem to be privy to.”
JAKE POV
She holds your gaze for just a second as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the dresser behind you. She takes a shaky breath as her thumb dances across the screen, obviously looking for something. Your heart starts to beat faster and faster as she searches for what she’s looking for, a million different suspicions of what it could be flying through your mind. 
Finally she turns her phone, showing you a screenshot of when Isla requested to follow her on Instagram. You feel your eyes grow as you breathe out a surprised “Oh.” 
Fuckkkkkkk. She found her. 
“Yeah. This was a while ago. I accepted her request tonight after the show. I know everything, Jake. I know about you and her. I know you’ve been lying to me this entire time,” she says bravely, gritting her jaw as she speaks. 
“Let me stop you there, Y/N. Please…” you beg, preparing yourself to finally lay everything out on the line. The time had come. You take a deep breath as you readjust your seat. “Where do I even fucking begin?” you ask rhetorically. 
“If I were you, I’d start at the beginning,” she suggests firmly. 
“Alright, okay, yeah…” you agree, doing your best to find the courage. “Her name is Isla Whitman. And… Yes, she still lives in my home. Isla and I had been together for a long, long time. She was there when everything skyrocketed with the band, right when everything started to take off. She moved in with me, life was going good. She uh… things were great, obviously, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the photos…” you say, motioning to her phone. “We were really good for a long time, I was really happy…”
“But then uh, but then things started to go south. Like really, really badly.” You wipe a heavy hand across your face as you relive those terrible days again. “I started to realize that she wasn’t here for me anymore, that she was here for whatever status I held. Only here because of the success of the band and shit. Only wanted to be seen and be a part of things if it meant she would be photographed and noticed by our fans. It was weird shit, like the fame got to her, and she wasn’t the one even… anyways. She turned into a completely different person, almost overnight. Apparently, uh… it was a lot worse than I even realized, now that I’m kinda putting things into perspective, and Josh and Ty are agreeing with me. She used me. She used the hell out of me. Talked down to me all the time. Gaslit me. Made everything my fault. We got into terrible, horrible fights. All the time. I’m talking fights so bad that we both would throw things at the walls. There at the end, I started spending nights on Josh or Sam’s couch, I’d completely leave for days on end until she’d swindle me into coming back home, all for it to happen again. Over and over. It was…really fucking horrible, Y/N,” you recount, feeling a lump growing in your throat. 
“I uh, I tried to get her to move out multiple times, told her I was finished, I couldn’t do it anymore. Mentally, I was done months ago. Over it. Then the night before we left for Europe, we fought and cried until 4:00 in the morning, and our flight left at six. The only way I could get out the door was if I agreed to go on a “break”. Which I know now was a stupid fucking idea,” you go on. 
“My idea of a break was no contact, cut off completely, do our own things while she found another place to live, then when I got home, we could discuss things like rational adults and get things figured out maturely, but. Ever since we’ve been here, she’s done nothing but try to involve herself in my life even more so than she did when I was home,” you bite your cheeks in as your eyes glaze over, feeling that same gut sensation that keeps haunting you at the worst times. That guilt creeping back up again and again. 
“My intention was never to hurt you, or harm you in any way at all, Y/N. Please know that. I left Nashville thinking I was practically a free man, finally. Ready to relax and disconnect while we worked. And I never intended to find you. And I never intended to… fall for you…like I did,” you explain, looking up to her with cautious eyes. “You completely blindsided me. Made me feel emotions that I hadn’t felt in years, Y/N. I should have told you from the beginning. I know I should have. That is the one thing that I regret completely and totally. I should have been upfront with you about it all. But, I was scared of fucking it up, you know? Scared you knowing about her would push you away. And now… I guess it blew up in my face even more than I thought it would…backfired completely.” You shake your head as you exhale a deep breath, letting a silence fall between the two of you. 
“I understand, Jake,” she finally whispers. “I really do…”
“Really? You do?”
“Mhmm. I get how hard that must have been. Especially since you had no idea it was even happening for so long,” she explains. You nod your head in agreement. “Feels fucking stupid now, I should have picked up on it.” 
“But she still lives with you. Still thinks you’re hers…” she reiterates. 
“Yes. Well, I guess? She still calls constantly, still texts me incessantly–”
“Was that who was calling the night we… ya know…”
You face reddens at the memory of that first night you hooked up, when you couldn’t even fucking perform for her. You nod. “Yeah. Well, her and my techs. It was a whole thing.”
“God…” she says, standing from the bed and shaking her hands out by her sides. She starts pacing the room and running her hands through her hair. “I feel so stupid…”
“You feel stupid?! Y/N, I am the idiot, here, not you…” you argue, standing from the bed as well. “I’m the one that fucked everything up and probably lost you completely.”
She stops and rolls her eyes at you, tears poking from the corners of them. “I should have… I should have asked you if you had someone, Jake. I should have gotten to know you better…” she starts to cry. “That’s like, girl rule #1.”
“Noooo no no, please don’t cry, Y/N…” you rush to her, gently placing your hands on the undersides of her elbows as she crosses them protectively across her chest. 
She runs a hand under her eye as she wipes a falling tear away. She scoffs at herself.
“No, Y/N. That was my fault. We kinda just…happened, you know? Our lust got the best of us,” you laugh a little at the memory of sneaking her into the bathroom that night at the bar.
“My suspicions kinda drove me away, ya know? I knew something was up the night Sam came to your room, talking all that…” she says. “You hiding me in the fucking bathroom.”
“Yeah, yeah I figured as much. I should have told you right then and there, I’m so sorry,” you plead. 
“I’m not gonna lie, Jake, my trust is…”
“Probably fucking shattered, isn’t it?” you ask, feeling a bottomless feeling in your chest. Like the whole situation has no happy ending, because how could it? Everything is fucked. 
She shrugs, looking past you at nothing. “I don’t know.” She walks slowly and sits back on the bed. “And Mia and Lyla? They–”
“Lyla is Isla’s best friend, yes. So of course Mia is pulled into that, as well. And, of course they are praying on my downfall. They don’t know my side of the story,” you explain, suddenly realizing that at the same time, Y/N doesn’t know Isla’s side of this story. You hope that she takes your’s in stride. 
“Great, great. Cool,” she complains. “Now they hate me, too.”
“No, I’m not gonna let that happen. I told Lyla to come and speak with me directly if she wanted the full, true story. We’ll get that sorted out, don’t worry,” you explain. “No one hates you.”
“You aren’t mad at me for… with Murph?” she asks. 
Ah, fuck. 
“Shit, I mean… I’m not mad, I don’t guess. I’m… I guess I’m blindsided with that, too,” you know you can’t explain how you feel, because you truly haven’t had time to even process it yet. “I pushed you away, I get that. Fuck, we hardly spoke for a week. Of course you wanted nothing to do with me. Then Isla goes and adds you on social media…? I mean. Fuck, I get it. Murph is… a cool guy…” you have trouble admitting it. 
“It’s not that serious, Jake,” she says, almost a whimper. “He and I, we just… clicked.”
Her words almost cut you in half. You thought she clicked with you. 
“I get that,” you choke, as much as you hate to say it, you have hardly any dog left in this fight. “Listen, the bottom line is, I know I fucked up. Royally. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to speak to me again. I don’t blame you for running away from me. But… I swear to god, Y/N, I would fight for you to the end of my days… You gave me something that I haven’t had in so long, I hardly remembered how it felt to be happy. You gave me excitement, and energy, and… you showed me that even though my life was absolute shit, it didn’t have to be that way. You showed me happiness, Y/N. I can’t ask for more than that. And if you ever give me another chance, I know I’d spend all my time repaying you for just that little bit of happiness you gave me, because it was one of the best times of my entire life.” You let out another shaky, huffed breath, fighting back tears, yourself.
Her eyes begin to well again, and you even work the tiniest smile from her. She licks her lips, rubbing them together. “Might take me some time, Jake. I don’t–”
“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. I just don’t want you to hate me.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t hate you…”
She relaxes back against the fluffy pillows on her bed, her eyes obviously becoming heavy. 
“Can we agree to start fresh? As friends? Forget about all the stupid shit?” you extend your hand out for her to shake, praying that if she could just give you this….
She takes it gently, clicking her tongue. “My intuition is telling me not to, but. I don’t see anything wrong with starting fresh… Honesty. From here on out.” She shakes it with a little firmness at the conclusion of her sentence. 
“Good. Yes. Perfect, even. I promise,” you say with a little added sugar in your words. “Please just understand that my… relationship at home is anything but. She’s… so far gone from my mind I can’t even explain it to you. My number one priority is finding her somewhere else to live when we get home.”
She nods again. “That’s really none of my business, Jake.”
“Yes it is, Y/N. We’re friends now, remember?” you give her a sexy side smile, knowing that just having her in your life again would be enough, for now. “Thank you… for hearing me out.”
“Thank you for explaining. If only you’d have done that weeks ago…” she rolls her eyes playfully. 
“I know, I know, shit,” you taunt, rising from the bed again. As she walks you to the door, you find yourself fighting off the urge to pull her in, still sobbing a little from earlier. You want to feel her touch again, feel her body against yours and kiss away the saltiness of her tears. But you can’t do that anymore. 
When she opens the door and you approach the threshold, you turn back to her, letting your hand push a strand of fallen hair from her eye. “I still want you in my life, Y/N. You’re too good to let go, I don’t wanna let you go…You’ve still got me…” you say through a whisper, feeling boldness rising in your chest.
She smiles and leans her head into the touch of your hand, but she brushes it away quickly. “Go to bed, Jake.” 
You give her one last knowing look, holding her stare for just a second too long, hoping that one last ditch effort to keep you on her mind would be enough to truly start things fresh. 
Lord knows you’d do anything to get her back again.
HER POV
When morning comes it feels different. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders and the day doesn’t seem so daunting. You are glad that you and Jake finally talked things through, though you wish it would have happened weeks ago when you could have stopped all this from happening in the first place. 
You quickly dress and pack your suitcase, knowing that van call is approaching quickly and that everyone will be assembling down in the lobby before you know it. You feel happy with your appearance as you make your way to the elevator, pushing the button and waiting as it climbs to your floor. As the doors spring open, you see none other than Murph waiting inside with his suitcase. 
“Well good morning,” he smiles, motioning for you to join him inside. 
“Good morning,” you answer, rolling your suitcase in behind you.
“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, adjusting his hat. 
“It was alright,” you answer truthfully. “You excited to head to Manchester?” 
“Think I’m more excited for Glasgow if I’m honest with you,” he smirks, pressing the button to close the doors. 
“Can’t imagine why,” you wink, feeling the elevator start to move toward the lobby, singing the ‘Da da da da da’s’ of ‘Howlin’ For You’.
The doors spring open and you step out onto the cobblestone lobby floor, your suitcase bumping along behind you. As you turn the corner you see your group huddled up together talking quietly. They’re standing awkwardly, seeming more out of sorts than normal. It’s then you lay eyes on the auburn haired girl you studied in great detail just last night, as she stands hand in hand with Jake.
Isla. 
In a tizzy of nerves, you turn to talk to Murph, only to find that he has walked away to meet with Dean and his own group. You’re alone and you have to face this. You swallow back your nerve and decide that you will walk over to the group with your head held high, ready to meet the girl Jake swore up and down he was done with. 
As she stands beside him. 
Holding his fucking hand. 
“Y/N!” Paul shouts, grabbing your attention as he stands next to Ty. Everyone's heads turn to look at you, including Jake’s and you feel frozen in place. His face is solemn, with a hint of guilt hiding in his brown eyes. 
You step up to the small circle of people, pretending that nothing is wrong, smiling and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly smile. If you’re going to do anything, you’re going to make your first impression on Isla one that she won’t soon forget. Your eyes flick over to Ty who is silently telling you that you will definitely be talking later. Josh’s eyes meet yours next, sad and defeated as he stands next to her, showing his obvious feelings towards the situation you've found yourselves in. 
Jake looks clearly burdened, like a lifeless shell standing there as his face is vacant of any loving emotion whatsoever. His movements are aimless, his posture slouched. And for a split second, you actually feel sorry for him. 
Until you regain your clarity, opting to stay on the clueless side of this very obviously two-sided party. 
The lying fucking son of a bitch. 
“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lyla says cheerfully, “So glad we caught you, I just wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Isla, Jake’s girlfriend!”
Isla extends her hand to you, dropping Jake’s at his side. You can feel her laser sharp eyes digging through your skull, her glare almost enough to knock you over. Your eyes meet Jake’s, looking sad and withdrawn before you look back at Isla, and grasp her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”
She shakes your hand weakly before dropping hers to her side, falling into Jake’s shoulder to stake her claim. His face goes stark white. 
“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she coos. “I have heard all about you.”
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