#like she didn't ignore my last three fucking messages about it

[sga-owns-my-soul]

lolol im pretty sure my most important friendship of 24 years just ended i'm doing sooooo good rn

[lokis-army-77]

Premium Air

mondern!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 1.1k

It's a few days after April Foos, Eddie isn't expecting you to pull a koke but you have something up your sleve.

Warning: noting! unless you count cursing

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs and @lofaewrites

Masterlist

You loved seeing the harmless little pranks that people would play on their significant others on social media and with April first already behind you, you knew Eddie wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

It was a bright Wednesday afternoon, you were at Robin's for a much needed girls day when you decided to put your little prank into action. 

"Hey, Rob, you wanna watch as I give Eddie a mini heart attack?" You ask as you wiggle into a more comfortable position on her couch.

"Oh my god, yes!" She excitedly shuffles over to you, leaning her whole body over your right side. 

You're both a giggling mess when you send the first text message. 

Hey, so my tire pressure light just came on, do I need to go have it checked?

It takes a few minutes but he eventually responds.

Is it still driving alright? 

Bring it to the shop when you get home from Robs, I'll fill it up before I leave work.

Yeah, it's driving just fine. The screen says it's my front passenger side tire.

You'll be fine to drive back home, I'll fill it up then, baby.

You leave it be for around thirty minutes as you and Robin think of what you should say next.

So Robin said I should go get it checked out and we were worried I wouldn't be able to drive all the way to your shop so I came to the one by her house.

I didn't know air was so expensive 😫. 

It was no more than a second later that your phone started to ring in your hands. Eddie's contact photo lighting up the screen. You swiped it away and you could feel Robin beginning to silently laugh 

Sweetheart, answer the phone.

Another call that you decline.

What do you mean expensive? Answer your phone!!!

Don't worry, Eds, the guy gave me a good deal! I think it's bc he thought I was pretty.

What do you mean by a good deal? Sweetheart, how much did you pay?

You and Robin can hardly contain your laughter. Tears are running down your faces. 

"I feel so bad, but it's so funny!" You cry. 

Robin nods along, "Don't, it's totally hilarious." She wipes her tears away and points at your phone, "Don't acknowledge those questions yet, say something about how he didn't notice the pretty comment."

You get to typing, fingers gliding over the keyboard.

Wow, I would have thought you'd be upset at another man...

Baby ,that is the last thing I'm worried about. HOW. MUCH. DID. YOU. PAY.

Well he said it was like premium air so it was on the more expensive end but apparently it won't seep out as fast as regular air.

You can see the read receipt and the three little dots as he begins to type. Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as the typing stops and he calls you again only for you to ignore it once more. 

Robin is beside you, howling as she holds her stomach. "This is the best thing I have EVER witnessed in my life!"

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ANSWER YOUR PHONE. HOW MUCH DID YOU SPEND? BECAUSE PREMIUM AIR ISN'T REAL

So the guy said it's usually 250 for all 4 but he said he'd give me a deal and give me all 4 for the price of 3... is that not how much it usually is?

You need to tell me what shop you're at. Are you still there? Put me on the phone with this fucking guy

Eddie, I'm not putting you on the phone with him.

Sweetheart, why in the world would you take your car to someone else??? I'm literally a mechanic. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FREE!! 

Are you mad at me?

No, I'm not mad at you baby. I just need you to put me on the phone with the shop owner or someone, anyone. Air in all 4 tires is never gonna be over like 5 bucks...

I told you I'd take care of it, why didn't you just listen 

You almost double over, laughing harder than before. You could tell you were stressing him out, that he was trying to keep from freaking out. 

"Oh my god!" You cackle, "I think it's time to break it to him or else he might actually have a heart attack or maybe an aneurysm. 

Eddie calls you one last time and this time, you answer, sushing Robin as you press the speaker button. 

"Thank fuck, Sweetheart, put me on the phone with the asshole that scared you." His face was gruff, the growl of irritation bringing a shiver lust down your spine. 

"Eddie, baby, calm down." 

"I'll calm down when I get you your money back," he huffs. You can hear the sounds of his shop muffled through the speaker. 

You can't help the giggle that slips past your lips when you make eye contact with Robin. 

"This is not funny," he stresses. 

The giggles continue to bubble up, "I know I know, but I can't help it. I love you so much."

"I love you too, now please let me talk to the guy, I really don't wanna ask again." 

Robin takes your phone at that point, clearing her throat and proceeding to do her best impression of a blue collar man.

"Hey, this is Rodger, at you just got pranked garage, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can help me, I-" Eddie stops mid sentence. 

You've got your hand covering your mouth as you try, and fail, to cover your chortles.

"Wait a second... Robin?" All the building anger in his voice disappears as he slowly realizes what's happening.

Robin begins wheezing as you grab your phone back, "We got you!" You gleefully exclam into the phone.

"We got you good!" Robing teeters back on her legs, almost falling from the couch.

You can hear the shaky sigh of relief fron the receiver on the other end. "Thank God. Baby you had me going crazy over here. I was about to drive to every garage in town to find you."

"I'm so so so sorry, baby. I really am but we didn't do anything for April fools like we usually do and I just knew you wouldn't be expecting this."

Eddie lets out the longest sigh of relief you've ever heard. "Shit, sweetheart, I'm getting too old for these pranks."

"You're 35." You deadpan.

"And it's all down hill from here."

You can't see it but you know he has a shit eating grin on and you roll your eyes. "I'll make it up to you when I get home."

"You better."

[avatar-anna]

Unknown Number Part 2

the long anticipated part two to unknown number. enjoy!

Part Three is now up!

italics: y/n (unknown number)

bold: harry

(one day later)

HS: Hey, I haven't heard from you. Is everything okay?

HS: I know you're busy and everything, but maybe you feel differently after us talking?

HS: It doesn't have to be different. We can go back to just texting I don't mind.

(one day later)

HS: You're not avoiding me are you?

HS: June?

(one day later)

HS: I don't know what I did, but whatever it is I'm sorry.

HS: But I'm starting to get worried. Are you okay? Like safety wise? Cold shoulder I can take but I would feel awful if you were hurt or in danger or something?

HS: Can you at least let me know you're alright?

J is typing...

(twenty minutes later)

J: i'm fine

HS: Good!

HS: Did I do something?

J: no i just think i was served a cold dose of reality a couple days ago

J: sorry for disappearing on you

HS: It's okay.

HS: Would you be more comfortable if we just went back to texting?

J is typing...

J: maybe

HS: Maybe?

J: i...like the sound of your voice

HS: You do, do you? ;))

J: don't be smug!

HS: I'm not, I swear!

HS is typing...

HS: I like the sound of your voice too.

(later that evening)

Y/n stared down at her phone and wondered if she was the biggest asshole on the planet.

She was never supposed to know who H was. Sure, she'd thought about it, had stayed up for hours thinking about who might be on the other side of their conversations. But it was all guessing and daydreaming. Y/n never actually thought she'd figure it out. Or that H would stand for Harry. As in Harry mother fucking Styles.

The person Y/n had been texting wasn't some serial killer or internet troll or some random person. He was one of the most popular names in pop culture right now. And not only that, they were in the same vicinity for the next few months while Five Seconds of Summer opened for One Direction.

When she heard H's voice, when she realized H was Harry, Y/n ran. She high-tailed it back to the tour bus, shooting a quick text to One Direction's stylist to tell her she wasn't feeling well and if she could take care of her band. Y/n pretended to be sick for a couple days while she hid on the tour bus. No one questioned it, but she did feel a little guilty for not doing the job she was paid to do.

But what was she supposed to do? The potential for running into Harry was extremely high. Y/n had no idea what she would do if they spoke and he came to the same realization as she had. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle the disappointment on Harry's face when he saw her and knew.

Pursing her lips, she typed out a new message.

(ten minutes from the last text)

J: do you ever think about us meeting?

(five minutes later)

HS: All the time.

J: you do?

HS: Of course. I mean it's hard not to.

J: do you...think you'd ever be disappointed by meeting me?

HS: Uh no?

HS: Is there a reason for this line of questioning?

J: no not really. just curious

HS: Somehow I feel like that's not true.

J: i don't know

J: i'm not sure why i'm in my head about this it's not like we'll actually meet

HS: You really think that?

J: do you think we ever would?

HS: I don't know.

HS: But I think I'd like to. One day.

J: you don't even know me!

HS: I do though!

HS: And you know me too!

HS: Where is all of this coming from?

J: i just think we should be realistic

J: i texted you by accident and we've become like modern day pen pals or something

HS: So you...don't want to meet me? Ever?

J: it's not about want it's about practicality. i just don't think talking about us in that way is smart

HS: You brought it up!

HS: And what do you mean by us?

(fifteen minutes later)

HS: Oh, so you're gonna ignore me now? Real mature.

HS: You're the one who brought all of this up you know.

HS: But you're probably right. I know I've been bothering you, but I think you had the right idea. I think we need a little space.

(one day later)

Harry was unreasonably irritated. Angry didn't seem like the right word, but nothing about his situation was normal.

June was technically right. This whole thing was ridiculous and nonsensical and completely impractical. There was no scenario where they would ever meet or...

Harry couldn't even think about it. Thinking about June like that...thinking about June at all outside of their messages was stupid. He didn't need to be thinking about her, about anyone that way.

So why was he so frustrated?

Maybe it was that June wrote him off so quickly and seemingly out of nowhere. It wasn't like they ever needed to talk about the obvious, which was that they'd probably never meet despite the fact that he'd grown fond of her. Harry was perfectly content to talk about whatever popped into his head or June's latest Tinder date—though that topic was slowly starting to grate on Harry for reasons he refused to admit. Now it was a jumbled mess.

With his head bent, Harry walked toward craft services. He pulled out his phone, looking at past conversations and willing himself not to send another one. June hadn't responded to him since his last message, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, it was what he'd asked for, but he still was itching to talk to her. Harry had grown used to expecting a quick response, had enjoyed June's wit and charming personality with each message she sent.

And now it was all weird and Harry's emotions were all over the place.

"Oof! Hey, watch where you're going!"

Harry glared down at the young woman who'd bumped into him—or who he'd bumped into, but he was too caught up in his own world to realize it. The young woman's eyes widened in shock as she stepped away from him. She opened her mouth as if she was about to speak, but nothing came out. Maybe a little squeaking.

He'd seen her around before, but not much. Honestly, these days Harry was usually holed up somewhere on the bus or at the venue texting June. But he'd seen the back of her head as she scurried around, or at a table on her own during lunch as she scrolled on her phone. He was pretty sure she was Five Seconds of Summer's stylist, but he didn't know for sure.

Raising his eyes at her expectantly. Harry waited for her to say something. "Sorry," she said, barely said. She was so quiet, Harry could hardly hear it. She looked scared of him, which made him feel bad. He was in a mood, but he didn't want to make anyone feel terrified of him, and this girl looked like she was about to cry.

He tried to apologize, but she scurried off before he could. Harry watched her go and sighed. He couldn't wait to get onstage and forget about June and the texts and all the ways she made him feel things he wasn't supposed to feel.

(later that night)

HS: Are we okay?

J: i don't know

J: i think so

HS: I feel like I'm going crazy.

J: how so?

HS: All I've been able to think about is our last conversation. I don't want to not talk to you.

HS: Can I admit something?

J: of course

HS is typing...

HS: I want to hear your voice again.

(five minutes later)

HS: You know, for the first time I think I actually kind of sounded like a creep.

HS: I didn't mean it in a creepy way I promise.

J: i know what you meant

J: in every other circumstance it would raise a red flag

HS: But this time?

J: i think i just want to hear your voice again too

HS: Yeah?

J: i'm not going to say it again to boost your ego

HS: :((

J: you know, you say all the time that you don't date, but i have a feeling you like having your ego fluffed

HS: Who doesn't?

J: attention whore. that's what you are!

HS: That was mean >:(

J: i would like to make it known that i'm sticking my tongue out right now

HS: I'm flipping you off!

(five minutes later)

J: so we're okay?

HS: Yeah. We're okay.

(one day later)

J: are boys always filled with energy?

HS: I would say 90 percent of the time. Why?

J: my clients are just...a lot sometimes

J: very nice but a lot

J: like the brothers i never asked for

HS: Aw. Are they getting on your case about your bad taste in men now too?

J: you're not as funny as you think you are

J: and maybe

J: they tease me about the constant beeping of my phone. they want to know who i'm texting all the time

HS: And what do you say?

J: that i'm texting my boyfriend

J: i feel like it keeps them at bay

HS: Boyfriend huh?

J: oh hush

HS: Don't tell anyone, but I like the sound of that.

J: don't tell anyone but i do too

(two minutes later)

J: i feel like we're wandering into dangerous territory here

HS: Maybe.

HS: I'm not as bothered about it as I thought though.

J: no?

HS: Are you?

HS: Sorry. You don't have to answer that.

J: that's ok. i just don't know how i feel

J: not a cop out just the truth

HS: I believe you. Will you tell me when you do know?

J: of course

(later that night)

J: how does one acquire a new mother?

HS: Typically through divorce.

J: that won't work. my parents are miserable people together. kindred spirits

HS: what did she do this time?

J: it's stupid

HS: Not if it made you upset.

(ten minutes later)

HS: June?

J: sorry i was crying

HS is typing...

(one minute later)

Y/n's eyes widened at the incoming phone call on her screen. She knew she shouldn't have told him she was upset, but she needed someone to talk to, and somehow H had become the person she confided in.

Even then she didn't expect Harry to call her.

Hesitantly, Y/n picked up the phone. "H—Hello?"

"Why were you crying, June?"

"I'm fine, H, I promise—"

"No, you're not. I can still hear it in your voice. What's wrong?"

"I..." Was their first conversation really going to be her crying to H about her family drama? Y/n knew perfectly well that he probably had a million other things he could be doing. She was aware that both bands typically went out after shows. The boys of Five Seconds of Summer had tried to persuade her to go out numerous times, but she had yet to take the bait. Y/n was perfectly happy to lay in her bunk and text H, who she now realized might have been in a bunk of his own a couple buses over. The thought made her stomach feel fluttery and nauseous at the same time.

"My mom posted on Facebook about one of my cousins who just got married," Y/n explained. "And she said, or commented, or whatever that she was, 'so happy' and 'so proud' of the 'daughter she always wanted.'"

"Oh, June, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine, I swear it's fine," Y/n insisted, but even as she said it, she felt more tears begin to leak from her eyes. "I knew she was disappointed. Marriage is a huge deal in my family, and I didn't want—She called her the daughter she always wanted. What kind of mother says that?"

Y/n knew she was something of an outcast in her family, but she never thought her mom would say something like that, and so publicly. Facebook was her family's way of staying connected. This was a message for her entire extended family, not just Y/n.

"June, I—I don't even know what to say. That's horrible," H said.

"And you know what's the worst part?" Y/n asked. "Deep down I can't help but wonder if I should just settle down and get married like she wants me to because really, what am I doing here? I've been trying to make my way in this industry, but at what cost? My family has all but disowned me, I hardly have any friends because I live in a new town that just eats up my meager paychecks, and—"

"Hey," H said gently. "Do you really think you'd be happier back home with...with a husband at, what? 22?"

Y/n sniffled and rubbed her eye. "Probably, not, but—"

"And do you want this?" he asked.

"I thought I did."

"June. Do. You. Want. This?" he repeated.

He was the only person Y/n would admit it to. "I...I really do, H."

"Then go for it," he said. "I believe in you. In a year or two, everyone is going to want to work with you. You'll be the one turning people down."

"If only."

"Hey, that's not the voice of a confident woman. I need to hear confidence."

"H—"

"No, I need confidence. I can't be the only one believing in you here," H said, which made you smile despite the tear stains on your cheeks. "Do you need me to shout it? Because I will. Don't think I won't."

Y/n tried to stop him, but H proceeded to shout—to whom, she wasn't sure—that she was the best stylist and that she was the coolest person he knew and all sorts of nonsense that made her giggle and continually tell him to shut up.

"Okay. That's enough! Harry, that's—"

She stopped immediately. It was a slip of the tongue. Y/n had gotten caught up in the moment and his name just...it just came out. Her heart stopped and her hands began to shake, nearly making her drop her phone in her lap.

Y/n prayed that he missed it, that amidst all the laughing and shouting, H didn't hear it. But the minute his name left her lips, it was dead quiet.

"How do you know my name?" he asked. His voice wasn't lighthearted anymore. It was stone cold, closed off.

"I...I don't—"

"You do. You just said Harry. How do you know me? Have you known the whole time?"

"No! I didn't—I don't—"

"I can't believe this. I can't believe that I...that I let myself fall for this. You—You lied!"

"I didn't lie! I swear, I never—I never knew anything until..."

"Until what?" he shouted, and you flinched.

What was she supposed to say? That they were on tour together? Harry would definitely think she stalked him then. He was so angry, there was no way he would listen to reason right now.

"Until what, June?"

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

"Don't try to contact me again, or I'll call the police," he said harshly before hanging up.

Y/n could only stare down at her phone in disbelief.

(two days later)

Y/n decided to spend her days perusing thrift stores. Hiding, really.

Her first-ever clients as a stylist were pretty low-maintenance. When she met them for the first time and saw their scuffed-up sneakers and ripped jeans, Y/n knew she wouldn't be stretching her creativity pretty far. But her job was to find clothes that represented her clients' image, which was exactly what she did.

While everyone else on tour was doing who knew what, Y/n went to local thrift stores in search of vintage t-shirts and good quality jeans that would be easy to move around him. One time, she came back with a pair of gorgeous leather boots that she thought would be perfect for Luke, but he said outright that he wouldn't wear them. Boys, honestly.

It wasn't much, but they appreciated when she came back with cool band and graphic shirts. She sewed up holes and ripped new ones when she was asked. Y/n felt like Snow White sometimes, and the boys were her dwarfs, but they were nice and funny and kept her distracted, which she needed right now.

She was in a small thrift store in Oregon, a couple pieces on her arm—two flannels, a baseball tee, a t-shirt with Kurt Cobain on it, and a couple leather bracelets. Now that she'd been on tour with the wonderful members of Five Seconds of Summer, Y/n had an idea of what each member liked. They had very similar styles and often shared the clothes she picked out for them—which honestly made her life easier considering her smaller-than-small budget.

But she still thought about H, of course she did. There were times when she felt compelled to go up to him at the concert venue, or even his tour bus, but she feared that would just make things worse. He already thought she was a stalker, she wasn't going to make it worse by just...appearing right in front of him.

She didn't know what to do, but not doing anything made her heart hurt. Not talking to him made her heart hurt. Y/n couldn't believe that this was how their text friendship turned out. Of all the ways she imagined this thing ending, having Harry block her number and him virtually hating her.

"Just this today, hun?" the woman behind the counter asked when she brought the clothes up.

Y/n nodded. After her major slip up, she hadn't done much talking. She felt like a ghost, floating from place to place without a word until she could go back to her bus bunk and look at old messages. Y/n didn't really want to be on this tour anymore, but she couldn't bring herself to quit. She didn't have the energy.

Back at the new concert venue, Y/n went to the boys' dressing room. They crowded around her as she showed them the shirts and bracelets. "I can cut up the sleeves on some of them if you want," she said quietly.

"Really?"

"That'd be awesome!"

"Maybe a couple holes around the neck?"

"Do you think you could write 'IDIOT' on this one?"

Y/n had only been half-listening, but she looked over at Michael with her brows raised when he said that. "You want me to write what?"

"I don't know, I think it'd be cool. Don't you?"

All four of them looked to her at that. Since the tour started, the boys went to her for fashion advice. That was technically her job, but it felt like she suddenly had four younger brothers.

"Y—Yeah. Very punk rock. I'll get on that right now."

"You're the best, June!"

"I could kiss you!"

"Please don't," she said, shoulders tensing when they all squeezed her.

The four boys left her alone in search of food—because they were always hungry—and Y/n got to work. Or tried to. She was alone for all of two seconds before the door slammed open.

"Really? You fucking stalked your way onto this tour?"

It was the first time Y/n had seen Harry since the one time she bumped into him in the hallway a few days ago. Y/n thought he'd looked irritated then, but he looked downright furious now. His face was red and mouth turned into an angry frown. Y/n tried to speak, but she couldn't. She just kept staring at him, hoping the words to explain would come.

"I—It's not what you think—"

"You're sick! Sick in the head! I'm calling security. I can't believe this," he said, muttering the last part.

Sniffling, Y/n looked down at the clothes she was supposed to fix up for the boys. Her boys, she sometimes thought. She couldn't believe this was actually happening. Harry was in front of her, and he...he was calling security on her.

"You—You don't have to do that," she finally said. When she stood up, Harry stepped away from her. "I'll go. I swear. I know how this looks, and I know you won't believe me, but this is a coincidence. But...I'll go. You don't need to call security. I'll leave."

Y/n grabbed her things and the boys' clothes, not looking at Harry once. She couldn't handle seeing the look in his eyes. But she felt it. His glare burned his skin. She shuffled out of the room, head bent with her things in her hands. On her way out, she bumped into something. Someone.

"Woah, June. Is everything okay?"

It was Luke. He looked concerned, but she couldn't find it in him to explain. "I'm—I'm fine. I'm just going to finish this stuff up on the bus, okay? I'll have it done before the show."

Before he could say anything else, she left, trying to ignore what sounded like an argument starting in the room she'd vacated.

(three hours later)

Y/n was still on the tour bus fixing up the boys' clothes and waiting until it was time for her to leave for the airport. She knew she should've left right away, but she wanted to do this last thing. One last thing, and then she would be gone. It was almost time, and she'd finished cutting up the shirts, now she just needed to write the word 'IDIOT' on Michael's shirt. It was very fitting, Y/n felt like an absolute idiot for ever letting things get this far.

Still, she couldn't help but form a little smile as she sketched out the letters with a pencil. This job wasn't necessarily what Y/n had wanted, but it also wasn't what she initially expected. She liked the 5SOS guys, and she had to admit that there was something adventurous about going to a new city every few days. The point was, she liked it more than she thought she would, and now it was over.

(thirty minutes later)

Harry had been standing in front of the crew's tour bus for ten minutes. He wasn't sure if she was there, and he wasn't sure if he wanted her to be there. But he was standing in front of the bus door anyway, trying to decide if he was going to knock.

He'd been furious. Furious and alarmed and freaked out. When he'd gotten the first text from June, Harry immediately thought that she was some crazed fan who had somehow obtained his number. He slowly realized that wasn't the case, or so he thought. June had been lying this whole time, and not only that, she managed to become a crew member on tour.

When he heard her voice outside Five Seconds of Summer's dressing room, Harry was floored, and then he was scared, and then he was angry. Why couldn't people just leave him alone? It wasn't enough that he performed and gave all these little pieces of himself to the world. Why did everyone expect to give over all of himself?

And he talked to June about that at length, and he thought he was confiding in her, he thought they were sharing with each other. But she was...she was just lying to him.

And yet, she was still June. Months of texting and everything he felt didn't just evaporate because he discovered the truth. She was funny and charismatic and seemed to really like him, and he liked her too. A lot.

It was why he was at the bus. Harry wanted an explanation. He deserved that at least.

It took about a minute for the door to open after he knocked on it. She peeked her head out, watery red eyes surprised, and a little scared, to see him standing there. Mixed emotions flared in Harry's chest at the sight of her. Something squeezed his heart at finally putting a face to all the messages, to the girl he couldn't go more than a day without talking to. June was very pretty with a thick head of hair, high cheekbones, and pouty pink lips. Her nose was red, as if she'd been crying, and the part of Harry that cared about his friend hated seeing her like that, hated to know that this was how their first meeting was turning out. Harry had daydreamed about meeting June for the first time many times. A lot of times. None of his daydreams looked like this.

"Um, I promise I'm leaving. My flight is later tonight, and I just thought—It doesn't matter, I'll go."

Harry had met a good number of crazy fans over the years, and while he knew June was one of them, she seemed rather subdued. Instead of jumping him at any possible moment this entire tour, she minded her business and didn't try to talk to him once. Maybe he was believing in something he wanted to believe, but June didn't seem like the crazy stalker fan that she was.

"I want to talk. I want an explanation," he said.

June nodded, not opening the door any further but reaching her hand through the small crack. "I wrote it all down. I was going to give it to someone to give to you. It was the least I could do."

She didn't even want to talk to him? Was this all just an act to gain his sympathy? There was no way of knowing. If this was all one big con, June was a very good actress.

Harry took the note from June and unfolded it, reading it carefully.

H,

I just want to start off by saying that you have every right to be angry, I understand that I have betrayed your trust. And I have betrayed your trust, just not in the way that you might think.

I found out who you were a few days ago, it was why I was avoiding your texts. I'd overheard you talking to Michael and the other boys in their dressing room. It was right after we'd sent all our voice messages, and I just knew it was you who was behind the door. I couldn't quite believe it.

But I also didn't know how to tell you that I knew. I was shocked and confused...and to be honest I didn't know what to do with the information. I just...wasn't expecting you.

So I kept the secret for a little while I tried to figure out how to tell you, and...Well, you saw how that turned out.

I just want you to know that I had no idea who you were when we first started texting. I truly gave my number to some idiot that I slept with, and by some twist of fate, he gave me your number instead. I didn't want to text you, I didn't want to like you, I didn't...expect to share so much of myself with you. I know this is harder on you for so many reasons, and you are justified in not trusting me, but it was hard for me too. Part of me thought that if I told you and you saw me, really saw me, that you would be disappointed or not impressed or something like that. You mean meant mean a lot to me, and the thought of ruining our tentative friendship by us meeting scared me, so I foolishly thought I could avoid you the rest of the tour.

I'm sorry that you found out the way you did, and I'm sorry it caused you so much emotional pain. I know you probably won't trust anything I've said, but I hope this might help you understand. And with the hope that I don't come off as the obsessed stalker that you already think I am, I really did do like you, and all your secrets are safe with me, as I hope mine are with you.

All my love,

Yours,

Sincerely,

Best wishes,

June Bug

Harry looked read the letter once, then twice, then looked up at June, who was still hiding behind the bus door. It had closed that much more, like she was trying to shut him out.

He knew he had a right not to trust her, and part of him still didn't. But another him was pushing her toward him, drawing him to her. His gut was telling him to hear her out, that she was the June Bug from all of their messages.

His show was in a little over an hour. He had last minute things to do and pre-show rituals to complete, and he knew that people would start looking for him soon. But he didn't want to go.

"Can—Can I come in?" he found himself asking. "To talk?"

June's brows raised, like she wasn't quite expecting Harry to ask her that. Which was a valid thing to think, of course, but now he was hoping she would let him in. Or send him away so they could avoid a difficult conversation.

"Sure. Are you—Are you sure?" she asked him, thick brows furrowing. Harry would've found the wrinkle between them cute if it wasn't for the situation.

Was he sure? "Y—Yes."

Nodding, June opened the door further to let him inside. Harry's hand brushed against hers on his way past her, and she immediately recoiled. He ignored it, and looked down at her for the first time. Really looked at her.

She really was beautiful, there was no denying that. June had a kind face, one that held so much emotion in it. Harry felt like he could read every little feeling as it flitted across her face. And right now, she was looking at him like one word out of his mouth could make or break her. Unable to handle that kind of pressure, Harry focused on a little scar that cut into June's brow.

"Um, so obviously you're familiar with the layout of the bus. Do you want to sit at the couches in the back? Or the tables here, or we could just stand—"

"The couches are fine," Harry said.

“O—Okay. Couches it is."

June turned around and headed for the back of the bus, strands of her hair swishing with each step she took. Harry followed, wondering if he'd just made a huge mistake or was taking a risk worth taking.

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

tags: @cookielovesbook-akie @sucker4angstt @l0v3e1i @bellesmith628 @marigold-morelli @obsessedmaggiemay @sophthearthoe

[mattysketchup]

what are the chances. (pt.2)

fem!reader x brothers bsf!matt

a/n: ahhh tysm for the support on part one of this series, don't b shy y'all send in some requests:)) y'all don't care but i have tryouts for vb in a week and my jump floats SUCK. please help.

warnings: suggestive content, swearing, underage drinking, mentions of alcohol, text messages, not proofread !!

(masterlist) (pt.1) (pt.3)

➽──────────────❥

your eyes fluttered open as you stirred awake. you felt something on your chest, only to look down and see it was matt. you forgot he wouldn't shut up untilhe slept like this. you attempt to grab your phone without waking him, but he groans as he wakes up. "y/n? what are you- why am i laying here?" he babbles, obviously not having any memories from last night. "do you not remember?" you ask, and he shakes his head. "you had wayyy too much to drink and would not go to sleep unless it was here with me, and your brother didn't want you to throw up on him so i was kinda forced to." he slightly chuckles at his ignorance from last night. "oh shit...sorry 'bout that. i guess that explains my pounding headache" he mumbles.

"guys wake up!" nick says, unzipping your tent to see you and matt basically cuddling. "what-whats going on here?" he says, hiding a grin. "nothing nick, shut the fuck up" matt responds, getting off your chest. "sure...anyways, hurry and get ready hornballs" he says, walking away. you purse your lips into a smile as you and matt get up and out of the tent. everyones eyes are on you as walk out.

"me, nathan, and chris are going fishing, you wanna join?" jimmy says to matt. "uhh no thanks, i'll stay here with y/n, celeste, and nick" he says. your mom and marylou had already left for a walk so that just left you, celeste, nick, and matt.

you all sit in a bigger tent, no one saying anything, just sitting on their phones. "ugh i'm bored" nick groans as he tosses his phone to the side. his eyes slightly light up as a smug grin plays at his face. "hey y/n, why were you and matt literally cuddling when i came to wake you guys up?" after he says those words, my eyes shoot to matts. we share a look as i stutter to try and explain myself. "well, you see" i sigh as i begin. "matt just was really tired and i was asleep and i gues we just woke up like that, i don't really know" nick looks at me with a confused look. "sure, if you say so" he says as we go back to our phones.

the day basically passes us by as we find ourselves sitting around the campfire once again. we're all just talking and cracking jokes around a campfire, and it truly is just a night you won't forget. it's the same routine as last night; the parents go to sleep, which just leaves us. celeste is to my right as she sends me a text. i open the text, sighing as she's right next to me.

| celestey👅

yo i got an idea, distract the boys

we're getting fucking wasted tonight.

my heart races as i read that message. i don't question how shes gonna do it, i just simply try to talk to the boys. they're already talking about some old memories so it won't be hard to distract them any further. it's not too late yet, but i try to stall for as long as possible befroe they decide to go to sleep. from the corner of my eye, i see celeste grab about six drinks from the cooler beside her, now it makes sense why she wanted to sit here with me. she hides them in her shirt and gets up.

"my stomach's lowkey hurting," she looks at me dead in the eyes like she's waiting for me to say something. "hey y/n don't you have tylenol in your purse?" she asks you that, knowing you don't. you knew what she was up to so you decided to play along. "oh...oh yeah i do! it's in the tent, give us a second" i say, walking to the tent with celeste. we giggle as we hide in there and zip the door shut. "drink up hoe" she says, handing me three white claws. "woah, celeste c'mon" i chuckle, quietly opening the drink and taking some small sips. celeste however, is almost on her third. "bitch chug!" she giggles as i shotgun the rest of the drinks. we finish the last ones and hide the cans underneath a bag to my right.

we stumble out of the tent, the alcohol starting to take a small toll on us. "celeste, feelin' better?" chris asks as we sit back down. "yeah no i'm good" she says. "imma sleep, we're goin' on a hike tomorrow i need some rest" nate says as he walks over to the tent. the boys have started to settle down, but now it's just you and celeste incoherently babbling about nothing in particular.

"heyyy matt" you say, breaking the silence. "can you pleaseee let me have a white claw?" you batt your lashes innocently. "i- y/n, you know i'm not supposed to let you do that" he says with a sympathetic look. "pleaseee" you drag the word out in some hope he would agree. chris and nick both look at matt, hoping how would make the right decision. "sorry y/n but no" he sighs. "ugh fineee" you whine.

you and celeste, in your now drunken state, were just getting up and dancing for no apparent reason. matt loved the way you moved your body, it just made his situation in his pants much worse. once you were sat back down, he mumbled in your ear, "you have no clue what you're doin' to me doll." a smirk toys at your face. nick, celeste, nate, and chris have already went to their own tents, leaving you and matt by the campfire.

you and celeste had secretly shared two more beers before going to sleep, the alcohol hitting your body like a ton of bricks. matt had enough of the teasing, and he pulled you into the tent. although no one was outside, he still wanted some privacy. the two of you sit in the tent, not really doing anything.

"mattt" you whine. "yes doll?" he responds. you're too lazy and drunk to acknowledge the pet name, you just roll with it. "has anyone told you you're pretty? like sooo pretty?" you say, laying your head on his chest. "ah thank you y/n" he responds.

he pulls your lips into a hungry and passionate kiss, both of you moving into it. the tent is filled with the sound of lips smacking and bodies moving, but matt’s phone dings as he checks it.

| chris

omg you and y/n better stfu rn bitch im trying to sleep

you and matt both giggle as he apologizes through text. the two of you sit in a comforting silence as you slowly drift off to sleep, matt playing with your hair.

➽──────────────❥

to be continued...

tags: @lolastrniolo

a/n: guysss there will be more parts but pls be patient with me, im going to toronto this week for the eras tour !!! i will be less active and i do apologize for that:(( please don't be a silent reader! comment to be apart of the taglist:)

[maiackmn]

"I'll fix him - Toji Zenin X Reader" [Toji Fushiguro]

🌸If you're interested in reading the Story check out my Wattpad, I'll continue the story THERE and NOT here on Tumblr. My name on Wattpad is @/maiackmn and the story name is the same!🌸

Laying in his bed with his eyes fixed on the ceiling, he is fighting with himself, with everything he's thinking about right now. "Why is she so annoying?" He asked himself.

He met a young woman last month, she was so kind to him without a reason, although when he was so cold towards her. She always approached him with a big smile on her face.

He put his hands on his head and groaned, thinking about the last month again and again. Satoru introduced her to him because she wanted to meet him and he doesn't even know why.

He isn't well known for his always kind behaviour, he's a bad guy in fact and Satoru knows that. But he still introduced this stupid brat, the most beautiful woman he ever saw to him.

Toji felt so stupid, he doesn't even know why he thinks so much about that situation, about Satoru and her. He's confused and doesn't know what's going on. Maybe he's just annoyed about it that Satoru just wanted to show off his girlfriend or something like that. Or is it even his girlfriend? He doesn't know and also doesn't give a shit about it.

After a lot time passed, what felt like hours he took his phone and went through some messages, trying to clear his mind. He deleted a lot messages and blocked some contacts from his previous hook ups he had.

Some of them where crying about why Toji never answers their messages, or asking him when they can meet again to fuck around but he wasn't in the mood to reply to any of them.

After looking through his chats he is starting to go through social media. But nothing works for him because his mind is only filled with that woman.

He decided to go out, ignoring the fact that it's three in the morning. He's putting on his grey sweatpants, a black shirt and a jacket before leaving his apartment.

He lives in a very small apartment in a bit more dangerous quarter of the city. A lot of stuff is happening here everyday. You can always hear someone scream, barking dogs who sound like they want to kill someone, people who are beating up each others asses and a lot more shit like that.

He chose this apartment only because it was cheap, so he had more money to use for sport bets.

He's earning his money from killing People, like a contract killer, an assassin. His clients always sent him pictures of the victims and their informations. He gets paid a lot of money for that, but he isn't good in spending his money. He's acting like a little child when it comes to that.

He took a deep breath of this beautiful fresh air in the middle of the night, it was round about early spring time and it's still a bit cold. But the temperature was just fine for Toji, even when he's only wearing a shirt with a thin jacket.

What he wants to do at three in the morning? He doesn't even know himself, he just wants to get this annoying woman out of his head. He first wants to head to a gas station to get some cigarettes and something to drink. After that he's just looking what this night brings for him.

"Give me theses." He said pointing towards the cigarettes he wanted. After receiving the cigarettes and paying for them he left the gas station and lit on his cigarette. He took a drag from his cigarette, closing his eyes and enjoying the taste of it in his mouth. But his joy didn't last long because when he reached for another taste someone took his cigarette and threw it on the ground. After that he saw how someone stepped on it and moved his foot on it to completely destroy the cigarette.

"Did you know that cigarettes are unhealthy as fuck dude?" A guys voice spoke to him, and Toji immediately recognised this provocative voice.

He can be lucky that they know eachother, otherwise he would have knocked him out until his face wasn't able to be recognised.

"Thanks, I didn't notice." Toji said and took another cigarette and put it in his mouth. He covered his mouth with his hand, and with the other one he lit the cigarette with his lighter.

But he couldn't even taste this one because it went straight to the ground again. Toji looked up now, a bit more annoyed now.

"You would be chasing me down in my fuckin nightmares you know that Satoru?" Toji asked sarcastic.

"Oh yes, and I would do it with pure enjoyment." The white haired man said smiling.

"Now really, what do you want? I don't have enough energy for you at three in the morning."

"Am I not allowed to visit my friend whenever I want? I thought friends are always there for eachother?"

Satoru said while patting Tojis back.

"We are friends? Never heard of that."

Toji said while rolling his eyes back. He took a step back and wanted to leave but Satoru stopped him.

"Wait wait! I wanted to talk with you."

"I don't have the energy for a Satoru Gojo at three in the morning now leave me the fuck alone and just message me or something." Toji said and he attempted to leave again.

"Do you have time this weekend? Suguru suggested a party, it's a bigger event with a few artists there. You want to join us?" Toji was speechless, his peace he had before Satoru arrived was destroyed because of something like this?

"And for this you are following me around like an old disgusting creep?" Toji asked him and Satoru made a gesture where he pretended like he's been hurt. "Ouch."

"You're so annoying please why are you looking for me in the middle of the night for this shit?"

Toji is losing his patience, he's already regretting his decision to go out tonight.

"Please? Y/N is also going."

Satoru said and Tojis eyes widen for at least a second.

But after this second he looked even more annoyed than before. This is the last name he wanted to hear of today.

"And now? I don't care if your little girlfriend is going to a party or not." After Toji said this Satoru looked even disgusted.

"You are a creep, she's my fuckin sister you jerk."

Toji looked a bit confused.

"You have a sister?" He asked disbelieved.

"Bro you are such a piece of shit, you know that?"

Toji nodded and a little smile leaves his lips.

He exhaled loudly "I probably know."

"So? You're coming or not?" Satoru asked again.

Toji was unsure, trying to get his head clear but since Satoru mentioned this woman again he can't think straight. He looked up, looking into this beautiful clear sky. The moon is shining bright and the stars are looking beautiful as usual. Just like her.

His eyes widen at this thought and he looked back to Satoru, who was still waiting for an answer.

"I'm not coming Satoru."

He said and turned around to go back home. He just wanted to get away from this annoying freak.

"If you change your mind just message me alright? You won't regret coming I promise!"

He said and Toji groaned annoyed, yeah sure.

Toji headed back home now. He doesn't want to risk it to see the whitehead again this night. He wanted to go out in peace and not to meet this big clown in the middle of the night.

He put his hands in the pockets of his pants because his hands were freezing a bit.

His thoughts are lost again, what he wanted to avoid, to even forget this night is now a even bigger topic in his head than before. This woman is a mystery, why is she in his head like a strong magnet that can't get pulled out? He doesn't even know much about her, he just talked a bit with her because of Satoru.

She was speaking a lot and it seemed like she would never stop speaking, but that was something that Toji didn't mind. He would die for it, to hear her voice until his last day.

"Tzzzzkk" he hit his head against the wall beside his apartment door. And again, and again. She's not leaving his mind and it kills him.

He opened his eyes in disbelief, why was he acting like that? That isn't normal, this is just sick.

He opened the door to his apartment and just throws himself onto the coach. Hiding his face in the pillow.

He just wanted to sleep, hoping after a long peaceful sleep he would feel better.

He was wrong. After a few minutes just laying there he heard his phone, he got a notification.

It took him a bit to finally take the phone in his hand to look what message he got.

From an unknown number.

Hey, my brother came home right now and told me that you are coming with us to the Party. I'm glad to hear that and I'm excited to go there with my brother and you. :)

~Y/N

Toji wanted to scream.

He hates Satoru so much.

🌸I hope you liked that chapter, if yes please visit my Wattpad so you won't miss the new chapters coming out. I already wrote 4. I would appreciate comments, likes and maybe a follow. Thank you for your time <3🌸

[burrowbaddie]

Ghosted

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: You, one of the top actresses in the world find yourself falling for the unbelievably attractive quarterback, Joe Burrow. But as Joe falls faster he finds that everything isn’t so golden about the world’s golden girl.

Acts: 2/?

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: female!reader, smut swearing, oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, taking plan b, mentions of toxic past relationship, age gap between ex and reader.

Act 2 Summary: Joe gets ghosted but that doesn’t stop him from falling effortlessly in love with you. But he learns loving you comes with flaws. WC: 6.1k

Series Masterlist

"You what, bro?" Ja'Marr asks.

"I told her I loved her," Joe replies, shutting his locker. Ja'Marr grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

"You have only been dating for nine months. What goes on in that brain of yours? Let the women say those words first. I taught you better than this." Ja'Marr shakes his head, causing Joe to laugh at the younger boy's words. It's been three weeks since Joe dropped the L bomb on you and three weeks since he last spoke to you.

"Should I call her?" Joe asks, looking through his phone. You haven't returned his texts or his calls.

"She ghosted you. Your girlfriend ghosted you. I need you to get a grip and move on." Ja'Marr grabs Joe's shoulders and forces him to sit on the bench.

"Don't listen to a word he says. Doesn't he have like three baby mamas?" Sam chimes in, making Joe laugh. Ja'Marr flips him off and walks away. Sam sits and holds out his hand, asking for Joe's phone. Joe hands it over and lets him scroll through the messages. He makes a face and shakes his head.

"She definitely ghosted you. Maybe she's just busy. She is one of the top actresses out right now." Sam hands the phone back. They didn't help Joe at all.

"He said what?" Eliza, your best friend, shouts, jumping up from the bed. You turn around and nod your head.

"He said he loves me. I panicked and didn't reply. I've been ignoring him since that day." 

"Girl, that was three fucking weeks ago! What is wrong with you?"

"I can't say those words to him. I didn't even think things would get this deep. I thought we were having a good time together. Oh God, he's calling me!" You toss your phone on the bed and start pacing. Your best friend grabs your phone and forces it into your hands after answering it.

"Hey-Hi," You answer, glaring at her.

"Oh, hi. I didn't think you would pick up. How are you?" Joe nervously fidgets with his seatbelt.

"Busy. I'm sorry. I picked up a new role, so I got invested. I'm sorry." You apologize.

"I understand. Umm, I'll be in LA for some work. I was wondering if I could come to see you."

Eliza nods her head, telling you to say yes. You frown and shake your head.

"Yes. Sure. That would be great. Text me the info. I have to go." You hang up and throw your phone. 

"See, was that so hard? The guy seems to really like you. Give him a chance. He's hot. You've said the sex is fantastic, and he's the hottest thing right now. America is obsessed with him. This is a win. See where it goes." She tells you. You start playing with your fingers and catch yourself before you can get carried away. Joe arrives Thursday night, and you guys stay in for dinner and a movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen Titanic. It's my favorite movie like ever." You're about to sit in the movie chair, but Joe pulls you onto his lap.

"A movie about a real historical tragedy is your favorite?" Joe questions you. YOu bury your face in his neck.

"When you put it like that, it sounds terrible. But Leo and Kate are all-time greats. Their chemistry was beautiful. You'll see." You climb off his lap and sit in your chair as the movie starts. Joe barely watches the film. His eyes continue to drift to you. At one point, you start crying, and he leans over to wipe your tears.

"The way he loved her. Urgh, my heart is so full."

"So you are a fictional romantic?" Joe asks. You pause the movie and turn to him.

"What do you mean?" You ask, feeling a little on edge.

"I mean, I confessed to you, and you panicked and ignored me for three weeks. But things in movies and shows have you smiling and crying."

You open your mouth to speak but don't know how to answer. 

"I like what we have going on, but love isn't something I'm looking for. If you want to continue this relationship, I want to keep things the same." You stand up, taking the empty popcorn bowl to refill it, but Joe lightly grabs your wrist and stands up. 

"Why does love scare you?"

"It doesn't! I have the right to be happy with my situation, and I don't think love has anything to do with that."

Joe cups your face and reads your expression. His thumb grazes your bottom lip.

"Do I make you happy?"

You nod your head, getting lost in his puppy blue eyes.

"Do I make you feel good?" Joe asks, bending down so that your lips touch. You nod again and lean forward to kiss Joe, but he pulls away with a chuckle.

"Don't tease me," You pout, pushing his chest and storming away. Joe takes a deep breath. Joe could tell a lot about you from your eyes. You were going to run every time love was the subject. Maybe you had a bad relationship, but since you've been famous, you never had a relationship. Or perhaps it wasn't public knowledge. Joe follows you upstairs into the kitchen, where you are pouring a glass of wine. He lifts you and sets you on the counter.

"So, who was this guy?"

"What guy?" You ask, sipping your wine. Joe stands between your legs.

"The guy who made you afraid of love." He replies, rubbing your thighs. You chuckle and put your glass down.

"I don't want to have this talk. I want my wonderful, strong, and very attractive boyfriend to take me upstairs and fuck me into the mattress. Is that so hard to do?" You throw back the rest of your wine. Joe scoops you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he, in fact, fucks you into the mattress.

"Feels good." You cry, riding him, letting your hands squeeze his as you feel the rush of another orgasm flood over you. You buckle over when Joe suddenly grabs your hands, thrusting into you faster.

"I'm going to always make you feel good, baby." He whispers. Your mouth falls open, feeling Joe pound away at your poor overstimulated cunt. Joe quickly pulls out and flips you over. He pumps his cock a few times and cums all over your stomach. You reach up for him, and he complies, bending down to kiss you. Joe carries you again toward the shower this time. After changing the sheets, you guys lay in bed watching movies. Joe stares at your body through the sheet as he massages your feet. You turn around, smiling.

"Should I put clothes on?" You ask, noticing the print under the white sheet. Joe shakes his head, his face becoming noticeably red. He slides his hands up your calves as you turn back to the TV. Joe slyly slides the sheet off of your body. He repositions himself so that he is hovering over your butt. You squeal when he takes a bite.

"Joseph!" You giggle, turning over on your back. Joe kisses up your body to your lips.

"Keep your clothes off." He whispers. You nod your head as he works his way back down. When he gets to his treasure, he places your legs on his shoulders. The moment is interrupted by your best friend barging into the room. Joe grabs a pillow to cover himself.

"Omg! I am so sorry!" Eliza covers her eyes.

"E, what the fuck?" You shout, getting on your knees.

"Sorry! But tonight you were supposed to go to Zendaya's birthday party. We're already late!" Eliza yells, backing out of the room.

"Fuck. Sorry, Give me an hour." You yell, scrambling to get out of bed. 

"Umm." Joe sits on the bed awkwardly.

"Oh, right. Do you want to come? We can't go together, but if you come with E, I think it should be good."

"It's alright. I'll stay here and watch something."

"Are you sure?"

"No worries, go have fun."

You return to the bed to kiss him and hurry to your closet. Joe makes himself comfortable, but after two hours, he becomes bored and decides to explore your home. He starts in the living room, where you have photos of your three brothers and father. After you and he first hooked up, he might have done a small (deep) dive on you. It did help that his sister-in-law is such a big fan; all he had to do was listen to her rant. Even his cousins adored you, so getting his family to tell him all about you was easy. Unknown to him, you did your own research on him. Joe had spent some time watching your interviews. He loved how much you adored your family. He could see the genuine happiness they brought you every time you spoke about them. Joe hopes to be introduced to them one day. He put the photo down and made his way to your piano room. You started playing piano when you were seven and haven't stopped since. Joe liked that you had such a special talent. On top of being a phenomenal actress, you had an incredible ear for music. He could listen to you play and sing for hours. It's insane to him how you didn't get into the music business first. 

"Hello?" Joe picks up a phone call from you.

"Hey. Missing you. Can you tell I'm a little drunk?"

"Yeah, baby. Are you coming home?"

"What do I get if I come home?" You slur into the phone. Joe leans against the wall smiling to himself.

"Come....find out." He says, emphasizing come. You giggle into the phone and tell him you are on the way home. And when you get home, Joe takes over your body for the rest of the night. In the morning, you feel like a brand-new person. You stand by the stove, humming and dancing as the bacon cooks. Joe sits on the counter, watching you.

"You are so beautiful. Do you know that?" Joe asks. You stop and roll your eyes.

"I'm in nothing but a t-shirt freshly fucked. My hair is all over the place. I look a mess." You complain.

"I think you look the most beautiful right now. Mostly because I helped you get to this state." Joe grins. You slap his knee and turn back to the stove. 

"I have to fly back home today after this interview but don't ghost me again." Joe hops down. You nod your head, flipping the bacon. Joe wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

"Baby, I'm serious. I care about you." He says, turning you around. You look at him and give him a reassuring grin. But Joe can see it in your eyes; you are again in flight or fight mode. Joe links your fingers with his and kisses each one.

"I care about you too. I won't ghost you. I'm enjoying my time with you and where this is going."

"Good. Does it make you uncomfortable when I tell you I love you?" He asks you. You let go of his hand and turn toward the stove.

"I'm not uncomfortable. I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Losing myself...again." You whisper the last part. Joe doesn't say anything, but his heart breaks for you. 

"I won't let you lose anything."

"You can't promise that. When people fall in love, one person always falls deeper." You shake the feeling creeping up in your gut and start cooking again. Joe leaves you to your thoughts and packs his bag. Breakfast was a little more awkward than you wanted it t be; you tried to make small talk, but you could tell something was bothering Joe.

"If you want to end things, it's okay." You push your eggs around, and Joe puts his fork down.

"I don't. Let's talk again. I have to go now, but I'll call you. Come visit me when you can." He stands up and walks over to kiss you. Then a week goes by with no word from Joe, so you hope on the first flight to Ohio to surprise your boyfriend for a home game.

"You did amazing!" You squeal as he scoops you up.

"How long have you been waiting for me? If I had known you were coming, I would have hurried up. I still need to shower." Joe states fixing the towel around his waist. You lick your lips and pull your shirt over your head.

"I can help you with that." You say, unbuttoning your jeans. The smirk on Joe's face doesn't leave as he watches you tip-toe toward the shower. He stands by, watching you turn the shower on. The warm water hits your body, and you hold your hand for him to join you. Joe drops his towel, following you into the shower. He is very surprised at your spontaneous public session but doesn't complain one bit. How can he when he's losing himself while giving you the deepest strokes? Joe holds you against the shower wall tiles as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Fuck Joey right there." You cry out. 

"Yeah, I know." Joe chuckles against your throat, leaving open-mouth kisses on your neck.

"Can I cum inside you?" Joe whispers. You nod your head, too fucked out to realize what he's asking at first. When your orgasm hits, you go limp in his arms.

"Yeah. Cum inside me." You mumble. This cause Joe to rapidly snap his hips, moaning your name and complimenting you on how good you feel. You can't help but let it all go to your head as he cums inside you for the first time. You spend five more mins making out and then finally get dressed. 

"Oh yeah, your parents want to meet at their house. I was sent in here to tell you that. I'll meet you over there." You kiss him goodbye and leave. Joe quickly dresses but finds his athletic trainer there stunned.

"No fucking way. You are hooking up with-"

Joe covers his mouth before he can say your name.

"I need you to keep this quiet."

"Why? You are banging the hottest chick in the game right now. She is everywhere."

"I know, but please."

"Fine, but you owe me, Joe." He says, leaving. Joe prays that he doesn't open his mouth. Ever since you ghost him, he feels he needs to walk on eggshells to keep you from running. There had to be some reason you wanted things to be kept quiet. Joe arrives at his parent's house and finds you in the back, where everyone is around the bonfire. You stand up to give him your seat so you can sit on his lap.

"Your mom was getting worried about you." You whisper into his ear.

"Sorry, my girlfriend held me up." He answers back. You cuddle up to him, listening to his parents tell you stories of when Joe was younger. The night ends with you and Joe back in bed. 

"I have to go to Italy for the next few weeks for some shoots."

"Is that why you came to see me?" Joe asks, sitting up. You stare up at the ceiling.

"I didn't want you to think I was ghosting you again." You lean on your elbow, turning to the side to give him your full attention.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe is ready to dive deeper into that head of yours.

"Go ahead."

"Why don't you want to go public about us? I'm sure there will be speculation when you've been to two games already and photos of you around my family."

"Which is why I've attended other sports games. I went to the Rams games a few times."

"But why? Why keep us a secret?" Joe asks, rubbing your hand. You slip your hand away and get up from the bed to grab your clothes.

"I should take a plan B." You say, going through your purse. Joe lays back down and stares at the ceiling. It seems he takes one step forward with you and two steps back.

"Can we talk without getting mad or changing the subject?" This time, Joe gets up and follows you to the bathroom.

"Joe, I can't give you the answers you're looking for. There are reasons I do what I do. I can't love you right now."

"What do you mean right now? Then when? Do you think I will wait around for you to love me?" Joe's voice comes out louder than he expected it. Both of you are shocked. You squeeze your palms so tight that your nails dig into your flesh. Joe looks down at your closed fists and tries to reach out, but you flinch away.

"Hey. Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." Joe's voice is softer. Joe reads over your body language and takes a step back.

"I need to go. I have to catch a flight to Italy. I'll call you." You stand there waiting for him to leave the bathroom. Joe takes the hint and leaves you to get dressed. He sits on the bed panicking, but you come out of the bathroom in a different mood.

"I'll call you when I land, okay? If you have some time, you should come to visit me." You kiss his cheek and grab your phone. Joe doesn't walk you out because he's never been more confused in his life—the dry texting between you two last weeks. During Joe's bye week, he uses this time to fly out and see you. Eliza plans everything so when you return to your hotel from a long day of shooting; you find your boyfriend with roses. A feeling of guilt rises in your chest, and you drop your bag running over to him. Joe pulls you into his arms.

"I'm sorry for being difficult. I want things with us to work. If you give me some time, I think things with us could work out."

"Of course. That's what being in a relationship is about. We will work on things together."

"Thank you for coming to see me. It's been such a crazy schedule. I'm so tired. You don't have a game?"

"On bye week, so no game this week. I decided to come here, spend some days together, and fly back. So, are you going to show me a good time?" He asks. You nod your head eagerly. You show Joe the set and your trailer, telling him all about the movie's plot. Joe even gets to watch you in action.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Eliza asks while you guys have dinner at a local restaurant.

"Of all time or currently?"

"Currently, well, besides your girlfriend." Eliza gives you an elbow. You sip your wine and lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder.

"My favorite actor right now is Jackson Taylor. I think he's amazing. I mean, I've probably watched every movie he's ever done. He's a good guy too. He has so many charity organizations too. I hope to collab with him one day. And he's from Ohio, so can't go wrong there." Joe laughs. Eliza looks at you, and your eyes are staring at the table.

"Nice." You comment, excusing yourself to use the restroom. Eliza watches you walk away and turns her focus to Joe.

"How much do you love her?" She asks, ready to give him the best friend shakedown.

"I'm in love with her completely. But I can sense she's not ready for that step. I want to take things as slow as she needs." Joe takes his card out to pay the bill.

"Be careful with her. She's fragile. But I think she's coming around these days. I haven't seen her so happy like this in a while." Eliza's comments stick with Joe all week. He knows there's more to the story, but he decided to take his time and let you tell him when you're ready. When you get back to the States, you go visit Joe. It's Christmas time, and you decide to spend the holidays with him. One year ago, you met at your cousin's wedding, and here you are, all lovey-dovey. 

"Fuck, baby." Joe moans moving your hips as you ride him on the couch. Joe bites your shoulder, bouncing you up and down on his cock, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Don't stop." You cry, feeling yourself reach another orgasm. Joe flips you onto your back, pushing your legs to your chest. 

"One more baby. Give me one more." Joe coaches another orgasm out of you as he fills you simultaneously. He grunts, and his hips stutter. Joe throws his head back and runs his fingers throw his sweaty hair. You lay there trying to catch your breath. Joe pulls out of you and reaches down to scoop you up for a quick shower. He kisses your back in the shower and tells you how much he loves you. Once both of you are fully dressed, you guys finish decorating your Christmas tree. Yeah, you both got carried away and decided to have sex in the middle of decorating.

"I did date someone before you." You place a snowflake on the tree and turn to Joe.

"Yeah?"

"I started dating him when I was 18. He was 30."

"What the fuck?"

"Umm yeah. It was hard for me to move on from him. The reason I can't go public is that he-I signed an NDA. And if our relationship ended, I couldn't date someone else for five years."

"What piece of shit did that to you?"

You shake your head.

"It doesn't matter. Joe, I'm happy with you. I want a future with you, so if you can just be patient with me, I can work this out."

"5 years...How long has it been?"

"3." You stop decorating to face Joe. He places his snowflake down and opens his arms.

"What he's doing can't be legal. There has to be some loop and-"

"No one knows besides Eliza. I was stupid and young, and new to Hollywood. I shouldn't have signed anything, but I thought he was my forever." You bury your face in Joe's chest as he rubs your back. Joe doesn't pressure you into telling him more about your ex; instead, he makes you his mother's famous hot cocoa, and you watch the polar express on the couch. Having Joe in your life gave you back the normalcy you craved. He was fun, caring, and loving. Joe always made sure you were comfortable and able to be yourself. In his eyes, you weren't a star; you were his world. Spending the holidays with Joe and his family left you feeling renewed. Joe has been asking to meet your family, but you're too afraid to take that step. What if things don't work out? What if Joe hates your family dynamic? What if Joe leaves you? What if-

"What are you thinking about?" Joe groans, kissing your forehead. You've been taking space in his home for the last few weeks. You didn't realize Joe was awake for the last 5 mins.

"Nothing. I have to fly home today. It's my dad's birthday." You close your eyes as Joe pulls you closer to his chest. 

"Yeah?" 

You loved waking up to Joe's deep morning voice. He always called you first thing in the morning when you were away from him.

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Are you sure?" He asks cautiously. You only nod your head. With Joe's season-ending because of the loss to KC, you thought that this was the right move. Joe will have a lot of downtime, so it's better to get the meeting over with. And with that, you find yourself making room for Joe in your own home. He arrives today, and you've already psyched yourself into him meeting your family. Everything needs to be perfect. But, of course, nothing goes your way. You get called into a last min appearance at some day party. Joe tells you it's okay, and he will find his way to the house. But Joe gets invited by Ja'Marr, who was there, so it works out for you. The place is packed with celebrities; you laugh and greet some friends and make sure to mingle with everyone because once you find Joe, you plan to stick by him for the rest of the party. That is, until you spot him. Ja'Marr is the first to see you and waves you over. You smile, walking over and hug him, Joe, and the man they're talking to.

"I can't believe we are talking to the legend himself, Jackson Taylor," Ja'Marr says excitedly. Joe agrees with the comment.

"Don't brag on me too much. I don't think I'm a legend yet." Jackson replies with a big grin.

"You are! Don't humble yourself. You are up there with Leo, DeNiro! You are!" Ja'Marr can't contain the excitement and asks you to get a photo of all three of them. You take his phone and snap a few pictures. 

"How do you guys know her?" Jackson asks, placing his hand on the small of your back. Joe doesn't miss the way you stiffen.

"Who doesn't know her? She is also an amazing actress. She is on the cover of every magazine, and she's da-"

"My brothers are huge Bengals fans, so I took them to a few games." You interrupt Ja'Marr and take Jackson's hand off your back. Jackson takes this opportunity to hold your hand.

"You guys should do another movie together," Ja'Marr adds.

"What do you think, sunshine?" Jackson asks, kissing your hand. You nervously laugh and slide your hand out of his.

"That would be awesome. I need to find Eliza."

"Actually, you guys don't mind if I steal her away, right?" Jackson asks. Ja'Marr shakes his head, and Joe doesn't respond. Jackson takes your hand and pulls you away from the crowd. You snatch your hand out and walk in the opposite direction. Jackson follows you, calling your name. You bump into Joe and stumble back. He catches you and gives you a concerned look.

"I-"

"Joe Burrow. Look at us two Ohio boys. I wanted to talk to you about joining one of my charity events. Let's chat." Jackson steps in. Joe looks down at you, and you give him a weak smile.

"I'll leave you guys to it." You walk away to find Eliza and leave the party. But Eliza is currently chatting up some guy. You don't want to block, so you find a seat and stay there. Joe finds you sitting alone and takes a seat next to you.

"It was that piece of shit, wasn't it?" He asks you, eyes trained on Jackson, who is talking someone else up. You don't take your eyes off Eliza in the opposite direction. Joe shoots up, and you grab his hand.

"I'm ready to go home." You say with pleading eyes. Joe takes a deep breath, and you leave together. At home, Joe doesn't mention Jackson, but you know in the back of his mind he's dying to talk about it.

"How did you know it was him?" You ask, taking a seat next to him. 

"When he touched you, you stiffened. Every time he spoke and we laughed at one of his stupid jokes, your face held a look of terror." Joe rubs your hand. Little things like that could bring you back to the surface, so you appreciate every small gesture from Joe.

"Oh. I thought I got better at faking it. But seeing you laugh with him, I feared he would take you away from me." Your voice is sad again, and Joe stands up and squats before you, cupping your cheeks.

"No one on this Earth can take me away from you."

"Joe, you don't know what kind of power he holds. He can have me blacklisted at the snap of his fingers. I don't know what I would do if he ruined your career too." You take Joe's hands off your face and stand up. Joe follows you to the kitchen.

"What are you saying?"

"We should break up. It's for the best that way; nothing can happen. I'm not breaking the contract and-"

"He can't hold that contract over you. You're a person, not an object. You can date whoever you want to date. Fuck that guy."

"Joe, please, you don't understand how this works. I won't go to jail, sure, but I will have my career ruined. I've worked so hard to get where I am. I can't let him take that away from me. My father gave up everything just to get me into auditions and school. I can't throw it all away. My career is too important!" You didn't realize you were yelling until the silence filled the space between you and Joe. 

"I know you're scared, but he no longer controls you. Think about the people that would be behind you if you spoke up. Think about the women you will help keep him away from. Most importantly, think about how free you will feel after it all comes out. You deserve to be happy....to be loved."

You shake your head and step away from Joe.

"I'm sorry." You walk away, leaving Joe standing there, trying to find a way to fix this. But he is clueless for the first time when it comes to you. Joe finds you in the bedroom texting. You tell him it's over and that he should go home. There is nothing Joe can do but give space. 

"She broke up with you? Out of nowhere?" Ja'Marr laughs, throwing his head back. Joe shakes his head and stares at his phone. His lock screen is a photo of you sleeping on his arm. He unlocks his phone to look at his home screen, which is another photo of you smiling down at him. It seems like an innocent photo, but you're in Joe's jersey riding him in that photo. Joe locks his phone and groans. He tried texting you, but you blocked him. 

"Can't believe you messed that up. But since we both are single, we got invited to a party. There are bound to be bitches all over." Ja'Marr pulls Joe off the couch.

"I'm good. I'm going to stay here."

"Stay here and be sad? What kind of a best friend would I be if I let you do that? We are in LA; there are too many women for you to sulk about one, even if she is the hottest. Besides, I need a DD unless you want me to drink and drive!" Ja'Marr forces Joe to get dressed and come along to the party. Joe talks to a few people and mingles.

"Joey B! Am I allowed to call you that?" Jackson smiles, making his way over. Joe instantly stands up straight and glares at the older man.

"Joe is fine." He replies, correcting him. Jackson raises his eyebrow and nods.

"Thanks for coming to my party. I like to host these little events to have fun. You don't need to be football Joe; just be yourself." Jackson taps Joe on his shoulders with both hands. Joe removes his hand and tries to walk away.

"Is everything okay between us? Earlier, you were my biggest fan, and now I'm sensing animosity." Jackson crosses his arms over his chest. Joe wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but he has to protect you. This isn't protecting you.

"Everything is good. I'm tired, and Ja'Marr dragged me to this party. It's an honor to be here." Joe replies with a smile. It made him sick to his stomach to be conversing with him.

"Been there. So many of my friends dragged me out to parties; you get used to it, trust me." Jackson offers Joe a drink, but he declines. Joe continues to engage in unwanted conversations with Jackson, and when your name is mentioned, Joe mentally calms himself down. 

"You guys seemed a little close at the party earlier." 

"Not really," Joe mumbles, looking for Ja'Marr through the crowd.

"Seemed like it, but that one is quite the girl." Jackson smiles and laughs to himself.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Joe turns toward Jackson, facing him. Jackson is a few inches short than towering Joe. His aura is intimidating, but Jackson laughs it off.

"You know these young stars that get around. I wouldn't get mixed up with that one. There are rumors, and I'm guessing you would like to keep the title as America's All-American good boy." Jackson's smile isn't inviting or nice. Jackson is threatening Joe. Joe stares into his green eyes, not backing down.

"I think I can handle myself."

"Relax. It was a joke. You're a good kid. Enjoy the party. I'll have my people contact your people." Jackson bumps Joe's shoulder as he walks away. Fuck. He knows. Joe knows he knows. There is no way he doesn't know. Joe had one opportunity to protect you, and he blew it. He let his stupid anger get the best of him. Joe grabs Ja'Marr, and they leave the party. The next morning, Joe is one of the celebrities on the gossip blog. 

Jackson, Ja'Marr, and Joe photographed at party together.

Joe stares at the photo of him all smiles with the man who ruined his relationship without even trying. He throws his phone and screams. You haven't unblocked him, and you probably saw the headline. He picks up his phone, logs into IG to find your page, and realizes he's blocked there too. Joe does the most desperate thing he has ever done and emails you.

"Why is Joe emailing you?" Eliza laughs, checking your email. You have your makeup artist stop so you can read the email.

"Can you block it? Thank you." You tell her, handing the Ipad back. Eliza takes a deep breath and blocks Joe's email. The door opens, and Jackson walks in. You sit up straight as the room clears. Eliza stands in front of you protectively.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm the executive producer of the show. I think I'm allowed to be on set." Jackson laughs. You stare at him through the mirror.

"What? Your name was not on the project at all. I wouldn't have let her book if-"

"Money talks. I'd like to talk to her privately." 

"Go fuck yourself. Stay away-"

"It's okay." Your voice is meek. Eliza looks at you, and you give her a nod. She leaves the room. Jackson stands behind you, touching your hair.

"Do you know why you got this role?" He asks. You don't look at him; only focus on your hands. Jackson softly grabs your face and turns it towards him.

"I'm a good actress." You whisper. Jackson laughs a loud belly laugh. He wipes his fake tears.

"Sweetheart, you're not good at all. I told the director to hire you. I think this is a better way to keep an eye on you. I met your little boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend. You made sure of that." You spit, snatching your face out of his hand. Jackson lifts your hand to kiss it.

"I care about you. If you get caught up with relationships, it will only mess up your career. This is how I look out for you. I'm always going to love you. I'm always going to care about you. Stay away from him."

"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm not-"

"Joe Burrow."

You don't move at the name, and Jackson smiles.

"Maybe you are a good actress. I'll see you out there, sunshine." He kisses your cheek and finally leaves. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You quickly put out hand sanitizer on your hand, trying to rub off his touch. 

Joe flies back home to Cincinnati, heartbroken and confused. His brother opens the door, shocked to see his younger brother looking heartbroken.

"Is Janet here? I need to ask her something."

"What's up?" Janet appears almost out of nowhere. 

"I need help with a contract. You're a lawyer, so I figured it makes sense." Joe says, walking into the living room.

"Your contract? What's going on?" Dan walks over, joining the conversation.

Joe takes a seat. If he's going to protect you, he needs to know everything on the contract. He doubts you will let him see it, but maybe Eliza would help in that area. Joe was going to do everything in his power to help you, even if that meant you couldn't be with him in the end.

A/N: Here is the Actress AU! I hope you guys like it. It will be different from Second String but still good! Let me know what you guys think! If it sucks, umm don't tell me! JK. I hope you guys are ready for the rollercoaster of fame and fortune! Joe is definitely all simp in this fic. He loves loves loves him some you! I will post a tg list soon so check the mater list for it!

[icallhimjoey]

All Goes South

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is overworked, tired, exhausted and just... he needs a break. Everyone knows it, too. None of it is really exciting to him anymore. Then, he meets you, and something reignites within him.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, angst, mentions of smut

Author’s note: Wee woo wee woo! Last part alert! The 2004 film that inspired me was First Daughter (and I guess, that means Chasing Liberty too). Some girls got it shockingly fast and my inbox is full of messages of girls guessing correctly, so well done! Hope you all enjoy this last part!

Wordcount: 5.5k

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Mistake.

That was a mistake. All of it. You. You were a mistake.

“Yea, well... we’ll see,” Joe could hear your voice echo in his mind. He’d seen it now, and desperately wished he could unsee it all.

In the car on the way to Joe's film premier, he stared out of the window with wide eyes, a hand covering his mouth, brain buried deep in thought. In shock, because what the fuck had just happened?

"She was just doing her job, mate... I don't know what to tell–"

"She's an undergrad." Joe interrupted, voice stern, not blinking, eyes still staring. You didn't have a job.

"Yea, she's interning for Victoria. Josephine helps her out a lot too... she'd been given an assignment, and... fucking aced it, if I'm being honest, so Vic's gonna offer her a job,"

Joe then turned his head, looked at his manager and felt something snap and recoil inside his head.

Joe's manager saw, and immediately jumped to your defense.

"We needed to get you out there, Joe... you were calling in sick left, right and center - we asked if you if minded an intern joining the team, you said you didn't mind, so an intern joined the team. I don't know what to tell you..." 

Joe tried to ignore it, looked away, eyes trained out the window, worked away the tears that built in his eyes from sheer anger, and got his phone out to distract him. Pretended he wasn't trapped in a car with someone defending you, standing up for you, after the most devastating thing ever had just happened to him.

"You fucked off to the toilets again, and were in there for, what, twenty minutes? She asked if she could try something, and Victoria told her to do whatever because none of us were getting through to you, we tried everything, didn't we? Josephine said she'd get Victoria to hire her right after her internship if she could manage to get you to stop canceling on everything... we were at our wit's end,"

Joe's breathing grew heavier, and if his fingernails were longer, the palms of his hands would've bled.

"And she fucking nailed it, didn't she? She did a stellar job. Got you out there. Got you smiling, all... I don't know, all happy? Paid your bills–"

"Don’t."

So close to breaking, Joe only had to say that once to shut Alex up fully. Knew if he would've kept going, Joe would've broken down completely. Would've started crying for real, and Joe didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself if that were to happen.

A silence took over, Joe's mind reeling, and then, he blocked your number.

What a fucking mistake, how the fuck could he not have seen it? Could he not have puzzled it together? He couldn't actually believe it. This was taking humiliation to a whole different level.

He tried to make sense of it, but couldn't for the life of him.

You'd eavesdropped on Joe's meeting at that restaurant you said you used to work at. Made it sound like you weren't with them, with him, at all. They'd been lies. Lies by omission, maybe. But still fucking lies.

You'd shown him out that backdoor, and then he'd asked if you wanted to join him, like an idiot, and Joe realised, that was the first mistake he had made. He remembered all the phone calls and the texts he'd gotten that night from his team. Had you not received any?

The second mistake was banning chat about work. Would you have told him if he hadn't swiped the topic off the table? Would your silly round of questions have involved work-related questions? And would Joe have learnt then that you were part of the team of people he'd ran away from then?

These were questions he knew he was never going to get an answer to.

He could think of so many more mistakes. He should have never let you take him over to Swingers, should have never taken you over to Duck & Waffle and should have never insisted on taking you home.

And you had fucking warned him too, hadn't you?

Joe closed his eyes, absolutely livid with himself as he realised you'd actually warned him. You'd been so hesitant, had said, "I don’t want to make mistakes," which then lead to Joe taking full responsibility for all of the upcoming mistakes the two of you made. Why did he do that? What the fuck was actually wrong with him?!

But it was never fully his fault.

Because Joe didn't know.

Joe had no idea.

Joe could blame himself for a lot, but the biggest mistake was the one that you made. The biggest mistake was the information you'd withheld. The purposefully vague explanation of your internship, the exclusion of any details of what it really was that you did. That was all on you.

Joe angrily puzzled things together in the silence of that backseat. Things sort of started dawning on him. Started making sense a little more. In hindsight, Joe felt like a fucking idiot because hadn't it all been so fucking obvious?!

You'd been very jittery a lot.

Very nervous.

Would almost succumb under a pressure Joe never fully understood, but he had wanted to be so helpful, so supportive.

Was it all fretfulness to be found out? To run into someone who was going to tell Joe? Tell him that the girl he'd fallen so hard for - fuck, he was in so fucking deep - that she was lying to him? Is that what that stupid bouncy leg was all about? The clammy hands? Those fearful eyes?

Joe realised he'd bitten through his bottom lip when he suddenly tasted blood.

Shit, he fucking loved you. He realised it then and there and wanted to smash in the windows. The whole thing was a disaster.

The taxi pulled up outside of the office where Joe got changed into a fancy looking suit. The office was just around the corner from Leicester Square anyway, so he made it perfectly on time. Didn't look anyone in the eye, though. Not until he stepped foot onto the red carpet.

Joe smiled at people behind the barriers.

Joe smiled at the wall of photographers.

Joe smiled at the people holding microphones.

Joe smiled at his coworkers, at his costars, at other celebrities.

Joe smiled the whole time.

Yet, it never reached his eyes.

Joe loved you, and you'd gone and fucked it all up.

Once people started making their way inside, Joe was pulled aside, and then, was told to go home. He looked awful, like he was on the verge of a mental break down. But then Joe said,

"Oh no, I'm staying." and turned into a real bitch of a man.

"This is important, isn't it? Can't skip my own premier, oh no, this is the type of shit you come and get me for, right? The big event that I definitely wasn't allowed miss out on, just, had to be dragged from a date–" Joe closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose in frustration. He didn't like that he'd just called that a date.

"I'm staying." He finished, but as he said those last two words, he was already walking backwards.

"I'm staying. Because you need me out here, right? Need me to stop canceling on everything? I'm staying. I'm fucking staying." and then Joe stretched out both his arms with both middle fingers raised, and left.

Joe sent an e-mail to his team from the car that drove him home.

"Taking an indefinite leave of absence. Please direct any and all questions towards Alex, he'll assist."

And then, for the next two and a half weeks, no one managed to get into contact with him. They tried - you tried - but Joe dodged all calls, blocked various numbers, and let all e-mails go unanswered.

He needed time to think.

Joe granted himself the break he needed a long time ago, got drunk more than was good for him, spoke to his mum and dad a bunch, and cried when he found the toothbrush you used in his medicine cabinet.

All for a fucking job.

And sure, Joe had seen your flat, had seen the way you lived. Had heard you wish for a real job, one that would pay you enough to move to a different place. One without a messy flatmate, and one with a gorgeous bathtub.

But still.

Joe couldn't get it out of his head.

Couldn't accept that in such a short amount of time he allowed himself to fully love someone that could do such awful things to him.

Couldn't accept that he loved you at all.

And that he missed you.

Fuck, he missed you so fucking much.

Joe dreamt about you a lot. Somehow couldn't shake your face in his sleep. It found him every time, and each morning, it took him real convincing not to call you. Not to reach out. Not to pretend that nothing bad had ever really happened. He had to actively remind himself that you pretended you were something else to get him to do his job.

He just hoped not all of it had been pretend.

Some things had to have been real... right?

Joe dreamt and reality-checked for days, until time settled things. Anger settled into sadness, and sadness dulled over time.

Joe was never mad at his team. He realised they were all nice, kind people who wanted nothing but the best for him. So when, after seventeen days, Joe's manager decided to stop by to check on him, Joe didn't hesitate to let him in.

Alex didn't come over to talk Joe back into work, but after a short catch up, apologies exchanged, Alex suggested for Joe to stop by the office. Not for any meetings. But, just to come by and see everyone. Joe's team cared about him. They wanted to know if he was doing all right.

But the chances of running into you made Joe hesitate.

Alex immediately took back the suggestion when Joe didn't really respond to it. "Take however long you need, mate, no rush,"

Joe blinked and smiled, but it was sad.

"No, no, it's just... I can't run into her," Joe confessed, and immediately knew he shared too much when he saw his manager's face scrunch up in confusion before it turned into a frown.

"Were you dating?"

It was as if the penny only just dropped for him then, and Joe thought, why else do you think I reacted the way I did, you fucking idiot? Didn't say that, of course. Instead, he stared at a fixed spot on his kitchen island and said,

"I think it was somehow more than that,"

Alex frowned deeper.

"Didn't you only meet like, a month ago?"

"Yea," Joe's eyes grew but remained fixed on that same spot. "It was a second nature sort of... instinctual thing. Makes it all worse, somehow,"

The fact that all of it was based on lies, Joe meant.

A moment of silence passed where neither man said anything, and Joe let his mind drift off, thought of your face for a little bit, until suddenly, he cleared his throat loudly and then Alex slapped his own legs.

"Well," Alex said before getting up, and finding his jacket to sling his arms back into. "No need to worry about running into her at the office,"

Joe looked up at his manager, blank faced.

"She concluded the internship, and then didn't take Vic up on the job offer, so, you know,"

"Hang on," Joe placed a hand over his eyes for a second, now his turn to be confused. "She didn't take the job?"

"Probably for the best, isn't it? Seeing as there... was something, between the two of you," Alex gestured vaguely, unaware of how this little piece of information derailed just about, um, everything.

You didn't take the fucking job? What the fuck?!

Alex saw Joe tap impatient fingers on the counter as his eyes darted around, clearly calculating his next move. He was about to say something, but then Joe said, "Thanks, Alex," before redirecting his attention to his phone.

You put plates down onto a shelf and rubbed the back of your hand over your brow when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You weren't meant to answer, but you couldn't help sneak a look at who was trying to reach you. When you saw, you thought for a second you were making things up.

That said Joe.

Joe was calling you.

Without even checking if any of the guests could see you from where you were stood, you answered.

"Joe?"

"Where are you?"

It took you a moment to register Joe's question, his tone of voice, and the urgency with which he spoke.

"I'm..."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at work, Joe. What's going on?"

"Where's work?" Joe sounded impatient and was loud, practically screaming down the phone. You heard keys jingle and the bang of a door slamming shut.

"I- I got my old job back, at the restaurant... Joe, are you all right, what's wrong?"

But Joe'd already hung up. You texted, "I'm working til close, do you want to meet after?" but the text bounced. You were still blocked.

You spent the next however many minutes eyeing the entrance of the restaurant like a hawk from behind the bar as you absentmindedly twirled a dry wineglass in a dry towel.

What the fuck was going on? Why had Joe called you? Why did he need to know where you were? And why did your gut feeling tell you that something was terribly, terribly wrong?

You watched the entrance and twirled that wineglass, long dried by now, until you convinced yourself that Joe wasn't actually going to come over to see you.

Then suddenly, you saw him.

But he rushed past the windows. Power-walked right by the restaurant without glancing inside.

Shit.

The back door.

You put the glass back on its shelf and hung the towel neatly on its hook, before stepping into the kitchen.

You already heard it then.

Loud, rapid banging, unmistakably from both of Joe's fists that hammered the door urgently.

The loud banging stopped when the door opened a little at first, and then a lot, as you fully pushed it open.

Joe was there, panting in the alleyway, and he looked unwell. Pale, eyes red-rimmed, and harshly underlined by dark circles. He looked broken in a way you hadn't been able to even imagine him, and it stabbed you right in the center of your heart.

Joe looked awful, like he hadn't slept in weeks, but above all else, he looked fucking furious.

"Joe," you croaked, barely a whisper that had to compete with the loud noises coming from the kitchen behind you.

Joe's face was like an open book, so expressive, which was just the worst. You saw everything. All of it. His outrage, the humiliation, the clear desire to inflict harm, upon you, you imagined. All so recognisable, so familiar. You wished you couldn't see any of it, but you could. Joe wanted you to, and it made the guilt that had camped out in your chest for weeks now grow to a new size.

It instantly made you want to burst into tears. It was painful, but you understood you deserved that.

Joe didn't move. Just stood there, breathing heavily, looking at you, and you understood this was going to be it. Joe was going to get all of it out. Confront you about everything. Make you feel horrid in new and different ways, and even though inside the restaurant it was busy and you had a job to do, you decided that this was more important.

Joe was here to end it.

Okay, you thought definitively. If Joe needed this, you were going to bear it. It felt like the least you could do.

"I'm taking five," you shouted over your shoulder, and you stepped outside, letting the backdoor fall shut behind you. Now it was just the two of you in that grimy alleyway where you remembered Joe asking you to come with him weeks ago. When it all started.

“Hi,” you said on an exhale when the silence dragged on too long. It felt stupid, but you didn't know what else to say.

Joe faced everything he’d been afraid of facing. His heart broke and leapt for joy all at once. He'd missed you. So much. Seeing you in the flesh made it undeniable which was really fucking annoying. You'd hadn't even known each other for two months, and hadn't even seen each other for over half of it. And yet, he had missed you so, wanted nothing more than for you to collide with each other in this moment, because even though there were so many things he was mad about, he really fucking missed you.

Joe's throat swelled and his expression faltered slightly. He swallowed hard, not fast enough for you to not see it, but he hoped you didn't notice the softness within him that he still kept for you. 

The air between you was sweltering despite the low temperatures and for a moment, you allowed yourself to close your eyes. Geared up for whatever Joe was going to throw at you. Gathered what you needed and made more room in your chest because more bad feelings were going to have to fit in there.

"Look at me," 

You did, but immediately wished you didn't. You could see how devastated Joe was in close-up detail, all of the inner turmoil that bubbled up inside him, and you kind of wanted to self-destruct. Wanted it to hurt you, wanted that punishment - anything to make this inside ache go away.

Joe took a long look at you and held your gaze and fuck, it was really difficult to not look away. Then he drew a deep, angry, close-lipped inhale and finally said, 

"You didn't take the job?"  

Joe spat the words at you accusingly, eyes narrowed, facial expression one of pure disgust, like it was the worst thing you could have ever done to him. You frowned a little, confused, because that wasn't what you expected. But he was right, you didn't take that job. How could you have?

"Of course I didn't," 

Thing is, that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Joe didn't want to hear about how you had taken the moral high ground. He didn't want to hear the explanation you had ready from the start, one that hadn't changed throughout the weeks, hadn't really transformed into anything deeper. 

You looked at the person that you loved, and then hurt so viciously. 

"How could I have?" 

Joe glared at you, anger building and starting to spill out, sort of like he couldn't believe what you were saying. You thought it made perfect sense, though.  

"So you made me go through all of that for fuck all?" 

Joe gestured wildly, took a step back and started pacing. You could practically feel the anger exuding off of him. It was so heated - hot enough to burn you, if you weren't careful. 

"Made me question everything for no reason? Why? Was I not worth it?"

There wasn’t much more you could do but show your defeat. Stand still. No movement. Just, sad eyes. Let Joe know you never meant for any of this to happen, even if you understood that it was your fault that all of it had.

"Joe, I'm sorry," your brows knitted together. You were sorry. Would tell him a million times if you needed to. But you also knew that it was never going to be enough. You'd clipped Joe's wings and were now telling him, oops, shouldn't have done that. Like that was going to fix anything.

Joe then whirled around, arms held out wide, like there was an audience. 

"What does that even mean?" 

You went cold all over and could feel tears welling up as you frowned hard. 

"It means I wish I didn't fuck all of it up–" 

"You didn't take the job!" Joe interrupted loudly, making you flinch, before he continued speaking on a more sensible volume level. "You didn't take the– she didn't take the fucking job," Joe kicked against a steel bin, made the lid go flying which crashed hard against the asphalt. You flinched and saw Joe place both hands behind his head as he stared down the alley towards the main road with wet eyes and a red, blotchy face. 

"You didn't take the- you decided to lie to me for weeks, fucking weeks, and then... for what?" 

You distantly felt tears spilling down your own face, but couldn't focus on anything other than Joe who seemed to slowly, kind of... lose it. Lose himself, in real time, right in front of you.

He couldn't even look at you. Fuck, he thought so many things, but most things died in his throat because, look at you. 

He fucking loved you.

The overwhelming need to comfort and care for Joe started filling up the empty spaces in your chest and it melted together with the guilt. It made a scolding, hot, thick mash that boiled your lungs.

You took a single step forward. Wanted to take Joe's hurt away and slot that shit into your own chest where it belonged.

"Joe," 

You reached for Joe's hand, but got his arm instead. You took it. Would take what Joe was going to give you. Joe let you hold his arm with plenty of noticeable distance between you still.

"Why did you do it?" Joe's voiced cracked right down the middle, all filled with hurt and complex anger. The eyes that watched you seemed a little cooler then, that fiery heat simmered down a little.

Your eyes moved between his in a long gaze that pleaded for forgiveness you knew you didn't deserve. Your mouth was dry as you began to speak, and you croaked, "How could I not have?"

Joe scoffed, rubbed a palm at his mouth and looked away from you. It was the space you needed, the distance the loss of eye-contact granted to get all these dangerous feelings out. 

"It.... it was magic." you sighed, and saw Joe crumble, his head fully turning away from you as you moved memories to the forefront of his mind. 

"It was so beautiful, Joe. It was real, all of it was. We went and flew south together, and it was never meant to be more than me getting you out of that meeting... I just wanted to get you out, give you the break you so desperately needed. They were all saying it, how you needed a break. And I risked my internship because it almost felt inhumane what they were making you do. I'd seen your schedule…" 

Joe impatiently shook a knee in and out of over-stretching, and you knew it was because they were difficult words to accept. You watched Joe's face scrunch up, brows knitted together, and he was completely open. All vulnerable, all real. Nothing exaggerated.

"You lied to me," Joe's voice sounded like it was made of glass, and you instinctively ran a hand down his arm to clasp his hand. To your surprise, Joe let your fingers intertwine and squeezed your hand impossibly tight, desperately clinging on.

It might have been a moment of weakness from his side, but that would be fine. If Joe was to snatch away his hand in a second, at least you, got to hold his hand for that single second. It was more than you deserved, you were well aware.

"I did," you breathed heavily, closed your eyes and lowered your head. Accepted that Joe had seen the worst of you. "I did and I am sorry, I should've told you right from the start, but then–" 

"But then you didn't," 

You let your other hand reach up to cup his cheek, and Joe immediately leant into it, closed his eyes and granted himself this little moment of closeness.

"But then I didn't, and now..."  

You didn't need to finish. 

A silence followed, and for a second, your mind went back to where you were. You were in the alleyway behind the restaurant you worked at - currently were working a shift at. Any minute your manager was probably going to come out and get you. 

"And now you didn't take the job," Joe finished your sentence for you, and for a small moment, you thought he was going to step away. Let go of you. Walk away without looking back.

But he didn't.

Instead he blinked tears into his lashes and looked down as he let the hand that wasn't holding onto yours play with the ties of your apron that was wrapped around your waist.

This wasn't the end.

"I'm so sorry," you repeated yourself as you blinked tears down your own face, your hand now sliding down Joe's chest. You tried to hold yourself together as much as you could, and then promised, "I'll do whatever I need to do to make this right. I fucked up. This is my fault."

Joe let go of your hand and brought both hands to your waist before letting his forehead fall against yours.

"You should've taken the job," Joe whispered before sniffing thickly, exhaling wetly through his mouth. "It would've made it all so much easier,"

Had you taken the job, Joe could've just let hate take over. Slot you into a box labeled terrible people alongside others that wronged him in his life. But now it was all fucked up because not taking the job meant something to Joe.

Mistakes.

They were all mistakes.

And people... people made mistakes. All the time. Never intentionally. Mistakes were never intentional.

Joe felt you shake your head a little against his, and your bottom lip trembled, but you sounded surprisingly solid when you said, "Taking the job would've meant losing you. I'd rather lose a job than destroy every ounce of a second chance I know I don't deserve,"

Little did you know that the minute Joe learned that you didn't take the job, you'd been granted all the second chances you'd ever need. Joe found himself suddenly made from second chances then, all of them individually crafted specifically for you.

That's when Joe's arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into a hug that made your knees nearly give out at how much you wanted it. Your arms slung around his neck, and Joe pressed his face into yours. It was all wet.

When he spoke again, his voice was muffled but rough, not angry but strengthless. "You're all I can think about, no matter how hard I try not to." He burrowed deeper, gripped harder and you felt the shudder of a sob as you pressed your full body against his. "I've only known you for like, a second, but I can't stop thinking about you,"

Fucking hell.

You were in the alleyway, hugging each other tightly after weeks of hatred and humiliation and guilt and regret, and you were both crying.

"I'm sorry," Joe whispered when he collected enough breath to shape the words, and his words took you off guard.

"No, this is my fault," you reassured.

"I'm sorry," Joe said again, and it made you move back enough to take careful hold of Joe's face. You had to dip your head to force eye-contact, to make him look.

You wanted to tell him he didn't need to be sorry. You wanted to say he had nothing to be sorry for. You wanted to let him know again that this was all on you. You wanted to repeat your words until they didn't feel like real words anymore.

Instead Joe leant in and kissed you.

He came in harsh, and it was deep and intimate from the get-go, his tongue in your mouth and coaxing yours into his, his breathing erratic from crying, lips and tongues smacking - it was fucking obscene, but so easy to drown into. It was wet, and salty, dried tears mixing with fresh ones, all dramatic, drenched in pent up emotions that had built up for weeks. 

You let Joe maneuver you back up against the brick wall, which scraped harshly against your skin and hurt the back of your head, but you didn't care. 

Joe's grip on you strengthened as did the pressure of him pushing himself into you more, like he was working out deep-seated anger, which, yea, kind of checked out, and you made a noise that sounded so stupidly fragile, you had to pretend it wasn't you who let it slip. 

There was no need for pretending, though. Joe had already swallowed it, and responded with a moan of his own. 

Joe was kissing you, none of it gentle but instead violent, and breathless, and you didn't want this to end, ever. Wanted Joe close forever. 

Joe pulled back enough to ground out, "Up," as his arms curled around your backside and with a little hop, you were up in a powerful hold. You immediately locked your legs around Joe's waist and without a single inch of separation between your bodies, Joe sighed deeply into your mouth as your fingers scraped into his hair on either side of his head.

Close.

You could feel Joe's erection bulging tightly in his jeans.

This is what you meant when you said that it was magic. You belonged in Joe's arms like this. This was a thing of pure beauty. This was the earth pulling the moon. The moon pulling the oceans, creating high tides Joe didn't really know what to do with. You were ethereal. This was everything.

This was birds escaping their cages, leaving the cold weather for others to deal with, flapping wild wings, and flying south.

Birds escaped their cages when the backdoor of the restaurant swung open and interrupted you. You were asked if you were going to come back inside since you were on the clock, and Joe said, "No, she’s not." You looked at Joe, all confused, still held up in his arms and pressed against that brick wall and asked him, "I’m not?" It wasn’t enough to make Joe laugh, nowhere near, but you could see a little smile that only lasted a second. It was the first stretch of wide wings, feathers reaching out, finally free of constrictive confines.

Birds left the cold weather when you woke up in Joe's bed the next day in the early morning sunlight in the nude, soft limbs tangled, hearts singing and healing, and he smiled at you before telling you he just got off the phone with his publicist. The job offer was still standing, and if you wanted it, Joe thought you should seriously reconsider. "You’d make such a great publicist," he said. "Not yours," you carefully joked, and he laughed, "No, not mine."

Wings flapped wildly and took you up high into the air when weeks later, you were talking to a client in the kitchen at the office and Joe walked by but stopped to blow softly into your ear before carrying on. A tease, a sure-fire way he knew he was going to make you blush and get all flustered. You only raised a quick shoulder to it, powered through, facial expression unwavering, and the person you were talking to had witnessed these types of things between the two of you so often, they didn’t even acknowledge it. Just kept your conversation going as you both heard Joe chuckle to himself before he entered a meeting with his team.

You flew south, crossed borders into warmer weather when, about an hour later, you saw Joe wait for the elevator after his meeting and you decided, as payback for earlier, to quickly join him for the ride down. You joined a couple of other people, and then when the doors closed and everyone stood facing the same way, you placed a warm palm over his crotch with a straight face and Joe had to close his eyes and bite his lip to make sure no noises would slip out. When the doors opened again at the ground floor and everyone filtered out, the two of you remained and Joe whispered, "This is not the same as blowing some air into your ear," and as a reply you squeezed, and Joe couldn’t wait and so didn't wait for the doors to close before he launched himself at you.

Joe'd been right when you'd first met: lone birds were bad luck.

These two birds were flying south and there was no fucking way one was going to leave without the other.

One for sorrow. Two for joy.

And it was beautiful down south. Blissfully gorgeous. Warm, and soft. Tender, and fun. Real. It was all laughter, all scalp-scratches and pure, utter, sheer magic.

It was magic.

the end

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[avianyuh]

I'll Call You; Jaehyun (part 2)

~Jaehyun's POV~

parts: 1 2 3?

It had been over a month since that fight between Y/n and I. In the heat of the moment I was mad, but thinking about it now...it was an overreaction.

I had spent the night, for over three years we had been sneaking around. Around last year is when I started openly showing up at her dorm, getting to know her members, friends. Even knew her manager.

The morning of the fight, I had told her that I had to leave, I had a recording session later that day. It had been around 9 in the morning, I didn't have to be at the studio until 5.

I was packing my stuff, she was still on the bed, laying on her side with her body weight resting on one arm. This was one of my favorite moments with her, just the two of us. I was searching the bedroom floor for my shirt when I heard her start to say something. Like she was inhaling. I looked up at her and turned my head to the side, a silent, 'You wanted to say something?'

That's when she asked if I could stay a little longer.

I'll admit, it was tempting and I couldn't help but allow a small smile to creep up on me. But I'm not exactly sure, but something changed my demeanor in a matter of seconds.

I had to remind myself that a relationship would be too complicated. Too nerve-racking for the both of us. There was a reason why the relationship was kept so vague in the first place. She was making everything more complicated than it had to be, I told myself.

And that's when I snapped.

"I thought what we had going on was enough? Now you want more? I mean...what the fuck Y/n? You spring this on me now. What do you expect me to say?", I said. I knew it sounded harsh, but I was defensive. The fight had happened so fast, I had no filter.

She told me to just forget it, she didn't mean it. But by that point, I knew I had not only sent out a harsh message that I'm not even 100% certain I meant, and now she was hurt. All I knew was that I had to get out of there before I said anything else.

I came up with some bullshit answer, "But now I feel like you want more from me. You know Y/n I just think we need a break for awhile okay, I'm busy with work right now anyways so i'll call you in a few weeks", but before I left she stopped me.

"I'll let you go but can I just say one thing", I looked over at her and waiting for her to continue. "If you would give me a bit more to work with, I wouldn't have asked in the first place, because I would've known you were busy. I had no idea you were preoccupied with work because you never tell me about any of that. Plus I thought the deal was that we only see each other when we're both not busy?"

And yet again, I was angry. To be fair, I DID have work later that day, so yes, I was busy. But I just couldn't believe it, she was making everything so complicated.

The last thing I had said to her was, "Oh, so now you're trying to twist my words. Like I said, I'll call you in a few weeks."

Now a month had passed. I didn't even know what I would say to her.

But because I had time to think, not only did I regret everything, but now I just don't know how to face her. Part of me wants to coincidentally run into her, the other part doesn't.

About two weeks after the fight, I had assumed things were over since she hadn't called me. At the time I was still felt like the anger was simmering. I still didn't know why though. Why was I angry at her asking me to stay with her for a few more hours?

Since I couldn't come up with a solid answer, I just decided to ignore the problem all together. I had been going out with friends and members almost every night, people from the company, one of which was Min-jeong, or Winter.

I could tell she liked me, I didn't really care, I was just looking for the company. I just wanted to get my mind off of things. Plus, I only really ever went out with her in a group.

This leads me to the current situation. Johnny, Doyoung, Jungwoo, and I went out with some other SM staff and artists, her included.

We were all sitting at a restaurant, all quietly talking, when I had turned to Johnny and said something. To this, she grabbed my arm and laughed playfully. Johnny looked at me suspiciously and raised his eyebrow. He had known about my relationship with Y/n and was of the first people I had spoken too after the fight we had. He was the one who told me I freaked out on her because I was the one who was afraid of commitment. I told him he was crazy, that a lack of commitment had nothing to do with the argument, but deep down, I was beginning to think he was right.

When we all got up to leave, I told Winter that I'd see her around which she seemed disappointed to hear. The more time I spent thinking about it, the fight I mean. The dumber I sounded in my head every time I tried to justify my actions. The things I said, the fact that I hadn't even texted her, let alone called to apologize.

So the next morning, the first thing I did was send Y/n a text, simply put: Can we talk?

She didn't respond immediately, so I sat around for a bit, glancing at my phone over and over again. But 10 minutes later I heard my phone go off. I felt my heart rate increase, but as I read her message, I felt it sink.

There's nothing to talk about.

'Nothing to talk about? I don't think so', I thought to myself.

So I texted her back: I just want to see you and apologize. I was a massive dick.

Another 5 minutes went by before she responded: Oh? I see that your new girlfriend has made you a better person, I don't want to talk to you. Leave me ALONE.

To this, I didn't know what to say. What girlfriend? Who told her I had a girlfriend? Did she see me with someone and got the wrong idea?

So texted her back: What are you talking about? I don't have a girlfriend, the only person I'm seeing is you.

All I got in response was: Bullshit.

When I responded back with a, 'I really need to talk to you', the message wouldn't send, signaling that I was blocked.

'Shit', I thought to myself. 'I have to fix this'.

_______________________________________________

{A/N: Hewoooo, so I know I said I'd only be doing two parts, but halfway through writing this, I realized I'd rather make this a 3 or 4 parter. Depends on how I write part 3. Sorry for taking so long to come out with part 2 btw, I've been doing a lot of school work lately and my GPA fell🤧so I'm trying to make it up. If anyone has any tips for that plz let me know lol. Piece of advice; DO NOT TAKE AN INTERCESSION CLASS IF IT'S NOT URGENT LMAO, cuz that's what ruined my grade.

But anyways, I'm having fun with this series, like I said, I think part 3 will be the finale, but I'll see how it goes while writing it. Part 3 could be out the day after this part, or a month later, I'm like CoryXKenshin, you never know when I post lol, the difference is that I write fanfics on Tumblr}

[ferrarifinnick]

3 times | kimiko

kimiko x reader

that sweet smile only breaks out for two reasons...

saw this gif and just had to write about it. enjoy this short little drabble about the different situations where kimiko pulls this little face on you. also, kimiko supremacy is the only correct opinion. i don't make the rules oh but i do on this. kimiko girlies where are you i love you. as always, i hope you enjoy!! love <3 masterlist

warnings: smut at the end. sexting, fingering, drooling, boobs, kimiko in clothes that aren't black lol

955 words

kimiko only ever pulls this face in three situations.

the first, when she's trying to slip off the hook for a mistake. those times she's caught thieving the last sweet treat stashed in the office of the boys, the one hidden behind the cobweb-ridden stale fruit bars. your emergency snacks.

sweet-faced kimiko. found innocent by judge and jury despite the crumbs still littering her glossy lips.

you'll also find this smile in the times when she knows she's gone too far. when on missions, too often she falls victim to taking too many risks in the name of assisting the movement to take down corrupted supes. her life, needlessly in jeopardy, earns her a secured spot on your naughty step.

"kimiko, that was stupid!" you'd scold, shaking her shoulders as if to knock some sense into her. or maybe it was you who needed sense for not suspecting she would pull such a reckless act again. "you could have gotten yourself hurt—killed even!" but the part that would really get her is when you'd ask, with a trembling lip, "i can't be the only one who makes it home, kimiko."

her heart would sink. she had seen you furious enough to know that this time was different from the rest. the rage that overcame you meant nothing to her. she could handle it, just like she had before. but the terror hidden behind it is what broke through to her. seeing you like this, frightened at the prospect of losing her. that she couldn't take.

her arms would coil around your waist so tightly, desperate even, as if a thousand helium balloons threatened to carry you up and away. out of her reach, like everyone else in her life. forget her powers. no amount of bullets she could ricochet, no number of limbs she could regenerate, none of it could ever matter if she didn't make it home to you. so she would hold you tight, terrified she might have finally pushed you away.

only when your shoulders would relax in her hold, anger floating away with the phantom balloons, would she release you from her iron-clad hold.

her face in your hands, you'd say, "don't overwork my heart, kimiko. it's already in overdrive for you. i can't bear to think of it stopping if something were to happen to you."

your emotional vulnerability, something she had not been blessed enough to experience before you, drew out a warmth in her eyes that only you were privy to. but even with your heart in your hands, your cards face up on the table, at her total mercy, that little smile floated its way onto her face.

was it gratitude? pride to see how bad you had it for her? you'd never know. you'd always be too busy shoving back her shoulder, signing out a quick and affectionate fuck you in response to her signing you got it bad for me, huh?

this smile would also make it's return when you'd be in the middle of a lecture from mm about the next mission he had planned. you'd feel your cellphone vibrate in your pocket, and when you'd hold it in your hands, you'd find a text from kimiko.

your confused glance would be ignored. all you'd get is a nod to your phone, and so you'd oblige and open her text message.

a picture of her taken in the reflection of the bathroom mirror. all you would see were the toned muscles of her long legs clad in knee-high socks. the ones you said were a turn on for you.

you'd glance up and find just a hint of a smirk, gone just as fast as it appeared. you'd cock a brow. she'd know you were asking when did you take that? the vibration of your phone would signal another text from her.

another image, this time of her thighs and—was that a white skirt? you'd squint at the image, trying not to move too quickly so as to avoid drawing mm's attention. the white skirt would fail to conceal the pink panties underneath, and was that a wet patch you could see?

finger and thumb would meet on the screen. pushing them apart, you would zoom in and right there, where her slit would be, was a shade of pink darker than the rest.

your jaw would be clenched. slowly your eyes would drag up to find the smirk she could no longer hide. one corner of her lips would curl even more, and then you'd be met with the final vibration.

this time, it would be a video. volume all the way down, just like your brightness, you would open it.

in and out, so fast you'd struggle to follow, her fingers would plunge in and out of her swollen pussy and it would be wet—no, gushing—spreading all over her hand and dripping down her thighs.

the camera would pan away from her abused slit, and your stomach would drop at the loss. but the beating in your chest would soon speed back up as the camera turned onto a dumb kimiko, eyes rolled to the back of her head, tongue sticking out, drool leaking down her chin and onto her bare, bouncing breasts.

the video would end there.

the fire between your legs would be nothing compared to the desperation to cross the room and tear off kimiko's black jeans. would you find those pink panties? and where was she hiding that white skirt?

when you'd find kimiko staring back at you, cocky and entertained by your suffering, you'd shoot here a glare.

and right then, spun with sugar, sickly sweet, there it would be. that fucking smile.

[melishade]

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Eren Jaeger

Main Story

Return to that Sick Mind III

Return to that Sick Mind IV

Reminiscing

The Survey Corps finally talk about Eren Jaeger.

"One, two, three, four, five, six." Miko counted as she started doing push ups on the floor.

"Work out regiment?" Onyankopon asked.

"Well I have to stay in shape somehow," Miko spoke in a strained voice, "Being cooped up in this box sucks."

"Don't you where an invincible suit of armor?" Sasha recalled.

"Yeah, but doesn't mean jack shit when I'm trying to detain people," Miko retorted, "Majority of the time we have to capture enemies of the state alive for interrogation. Sometimes we do kill them, but we use guns."

Miko grunted and she started to do push ups with one hand. "Apex Armor's for like...emergency uses only. Like stopping an atomic bomb from going off or fighting against rogue Decepticons."

"I'd join you in your workout regiment, but I am a little busy," Hanji commented as they used their fork to stab a hollow spot in the floor boards.

"Yeah, tearing up your quarantine space," Rafael remarked, watching a class lecture online from his bed.

"Hey, my space. I can do what I want," Hanji proclaimed.

"News flash: it's the U.S. governments space. You will get in trouble," Rafael retorted.

"Well I was kidnapped, so-!" Hanji blew a raspberry at Rafael before going back to wiggling their fork into the floor boards.

"Mature!" Rafael shouted at them.

"Anyone else want to join me?" Miko asked as she stopped doing push ups and pushed her legs off the ground to do a handstand.

"I'm...not really that athletic," Willy answered.

"Hm." Miko looked him up and down. "I can see that, silver spoon."

"Excuse me?" Willy was confused at the idiom.

"Anyone else?!" Miko offered to the rest of them.

"Well, I can't really see you," Historia declared.

"Anyone across from me want to mirror me so Historia can see?" Miko asked.

"I can try," Sasha offered.

Jack ignored Miko's invite, staring at his phone, specifically the text messages from Ultra Magnus, telling Jack to ask about Eren. He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. He heard them say that they weren't even ready to talk about it, and the last thing that he wanted to do was push, but the video. The video has been bothering him since Ultra Magnus sent it. And Jack had an urge to know the truth. But what would learning entail? Would they get mad at him? Would they feel betrayed? Would they?

"You've been staring at that thing a lot lately," Armin remarked, causing Jack to look at him.

"Uh...yeah...I was just looking at texts," Jack explained, trying to not elaborate further.

"Oh really? Who's texting you?" Miko asked, causing Jack to internally swear.

Jack looked back at his phone. "I've been texting the Autobots and-!"

"What?!" Hanji's forked snapped into two at Jack's explanation, "Damn it!"

"You've been in contact with the Autobots since you got your phone back?" Armin asked, "Did they tell you anything about Optimus or Megatron?"

"What about Arcee?!" Sasha demanded, "Is she okay?!"

"Arcee's recovering. Wheeljack is pretty much done. Optimus and Megatron are...stable. I haven't been given too much about them. I think they don't want us to get our hopes up just yet," Jack explained.

"Jack, why didn't you tell us?" Rafael asked as he grabbed his water cup and took a sip.

Jack took a deep breath and sighed. "The Bots have been wanting to know more about your guys' world and about Megatron...they looked into his mind."

"WHAT?!" Miko screeched as she lost her balance on her hand stand and banged her ankle on the cabinet drawer while Rafael spat out his water.

"Oh fuck me!" Miko grabbed her ankle in pain.

"Who looked into his head?!" Rafael shot up.

"Bee," Jack reluctantly replied.

"WHAT?!" Rafael screamed even louder, "Why the hell would Bumblebee look into his mind again?! Megatron literally hijacked his body!"

"You think I know the answer to that?!" Jack yelled at Rafael.

"Can someone explain how the hell titans are able to look into each other's minds?!" Kenshin demanded.

"The cortical psychic patch," Jack explained, "It's a device created by Megatron's manic scientist Shockwave. You can use it to peer into the minds of anyone on the other end of the device and see their memories, and they can't make any alterations to the memories. But if you don't disconnect the device properly, it can fry your brain, or in Bumblebee's case, trap one of the users into the other's mind. It's how Megatron took over his body in the first place."

"...Can I see the device?" Hanji raised their hand.

"WHOA!" Miko screamed at them.

"What is wrong with you?!" Rafael yelled.

"Hanji!" Onyankopon scolded them.

"Fine! Such a touchy subject!" Hanji grumbled.

"If the memories seen can't be altered, then the Autobots should now know we're telling the truth," Armin surmised, "So what? Are they still going to ask us about him?"

Jack sighed in defeat. "They don't want to know about Megatron changing. They want to know about Eren."

Armin, Hanji, Sasha, and Historia grew tense at that.

"Magnus needs to compile a full report and need as much information on him as possible," Jack explained, "Apparently, Megatron says his feelings to Eren are negative-!"

"Yes, Megatron hates Eren's guts and is jealous of him. It's no secret," Hanji rambled.

"Ha?" Miko questioned.

"He sent me this." Jack pressed the play button on the recording from Megatron's mind and pressed it up against the glass. Everyone in the area either heard the audio of Optimus speaking, or also saw the visuals that came with the audio.

"...Optimus tried to convince Eren to stop before he started the Rumbling?" Willy was taken aback by the audio that played.

"Optimus always chooses peace first." Jack pulled the phone back and locked the phone, "But...if you guys don't want to provide an explanation, I can tell Magnus and try to push it off."

"...It does sound like he could approach us later on the topic," Historia assumed.

"Probably." Jack shrugged his shoulders. "Seriously, I can push it off-!"

"Let's just get it out of the way," Armin relented, sitting in the space where the glass and the wall met.

Jack felt guilty, decided to sit down on the bed and rub his knees. "Anyone here that doesn't know much about Eren?"

"I didn't really talk to Eren that much," Onyankopon confessed, "Although Yelena wanted to in order to try and get Eren to agree to Zeke's plan."

"Me and Gabi have known him as an enemy," Colt explained.

"I...vilified him too," Willy reluctantly admitted.

"I only had interactions with Eren twice," Kenshin confessed, "The first time I was really just trying to mess with him because I noticed the way he was getting angry every time I talked to Mikasa. Second time, he had come to Hizuru with Wheeljack, and my dad asked him to come with me on a horse ride to the next town over. We had a interesting conversation about religion and god...I noticed how...easily agitated he got when we talked. How he succumbed to his anger whenever talking about something he hated or seeing someone he didn't liked...Maybe I should have said something when I was sending letters to Optimus..."

"...Eren used to be quite passionate about killing all of the titans and freeing humanity when we were training together," Historia explained, "He hated them with a passion. But...when we learned about the truth about humanity, it really messed with him. The passion and fire he had in his eyes began to dim....There was a situation with the power of the titans. Eren had the powers of the Founding Titan, but couldn't use it because he wasn't of royal blood. I have royal blood, but if I were to take the Founding Titan, I would have been a prisoner of the vow renouncing war. But I could still make contact with Eren and activate some memories...Eren came to me one night...afraid...he said he was seeing things and wanted to touch my hand in order to activate the power. When he did, he just...shut down completely...and left...I don't think he was the same after that. And I blame myself for it."

"...We used to call him a 'suicidal maniac'." Sasha chuckled sadly at the memory, "Cause he would always try to get himself killed when trying to do dangerous things. Maybe when we thought humanity was extinct, it could have been considered honorable or just straight up reckless. But...he went off on his own on a foreign continent, planned an attack against world leaders without talking to us first...he attacked us...and told Mikasa he hated her. And he..."

Sasha quickly wiped her tears. "Why the hell would he kill Connie? They were close, and Connie only had us left. His whole village was turned into titans. We were his family, and Eren just killed him. I don't understand."

"...I wish I could have understood too." Hanji confessed, their efforts to pry the floorboard open long forgotten, "I used to do experiments with Eren to help him figure out his titan powers. I have a bombastic personality though, and I can push on things if I'm really passionate about it. Optimus usually had to keep me in check and get me to respect Eren's boundaries. Eren...used to be a good kid. He was passionate about joining the Survey Corps. He still wanted to do the experiments with me to find out about his powers. I thought he trusted me....I thought he trusted Optimus. Optimus seemed to be the only one who could really reign him in. Eren used to hate him, and one day he suddenly begged Optimus to start teaching him how to fight. Hell, Optimus apparently told us that Eren called him 'Dad' one time."

Hanji chuckled in defeat. "But what do I know? I mean, Eren activated the Rumbling. He took out my eye and stabbed Optimus and broke his mask. Some 'mad scientist' I am. Right?"

Jack turned his attention to Armin, and he saw him curl up into a ball and turn his head away from the glass. "I think...I can send this over to Magnus to get him to leave you guys alone for the time-!"

"Eren was my first friend," Armin confessed, "I used to get picked on a lot when I was younger for being weak, but I always refused to run from those fights. Eren actually spotted me one day and asked me why I didn't fight. And I basically told him I didn't run away. That facing the danger was my way of fighting. He asked me my name, and later he brought me to his home to eat food there. He later took me home with his dad and we just became friends after that."

"If you don't mind me asking, how does Mikasa play into this?" Rafael asked, "She's close to Eren too, right?"

"I don't think that's a good thing to-!"

"When Mikasa was nine, her parents were murdered right in front of her, and she was going to be sold into sexual slavery," Armin cut Hanji off. Everyone except the Survey Corps grew mortified at this information, "Eren managed to go after her and kill two of the kidnappers, while Mikasa found the will to kill the third one. Grisha and Eren brought her home and made her part of the family."

"...dude," Miko could only muster.

"So...why was Eren angry all the time?" Rafael asked again, wanting to change the topic.

"It wasn't always like that. When we were younger, Eren was pretty apathetic as a kid. He didn't really have any dreams or goals he wanted to obtain...that wasn't until I showed him about the outside world. Learning about the outside world was forbidden in the walls, but my grandpa had a book on it and I wanted to show Eren. I was excited to show Eren, and it was the first time I've really seen excitement on Eren's face."

Armin smiled a little at the memory. "We wanted to go see the outside world, and Eren wanted so badly to join the Survey Corps to do it. He wanted to fight all the titans and not live the rest of his life behind those walls. But...revenge later became apart of it. When...when the Warriors attacked Shinganshina, Eren's mom was eaten by a titan right in front of him, and he wanted nothing more than to eradicate the titans from the world."

"We joined the Trainee Corps when we were twelve. We were orphans at that age and military training was the only real option for us to take. We trained together, made new allies and friends, but when the Warriors attacked again, and I almost got eaten by a titan, Eren jumped in and saved my life, getting eaten right before my eyes. I don't really know how Eren awakened his powers. Maybe because he got injured before he was eaten. I don't know. Optimus had grabbed me in that moment and taken me away from the danger in my hysteria. But even though, Optimus and Eren worked together to stop the titan invasion. Optimus was one of the first people to show any real compassion to him when everyone was scared of him for his powers. He treated him with kindness and civility. I think Eren looked up to Optimus because he didn't have any other parental guidance. Optimus listened to him and made him feel heard."

Armin didn't know why he was rambling. He didn't know why he was talking too much, but he just wanted to get all of this off of his chest. Get rid of it and not talk about it ever again. "But...there were so many things that I missed...or chose not to notice. When we overthrew the government. Eren wanted to take his own life and I didn't notice. But it was Megatron of all people that did. He noticed and stopped Eren from taking his life. And then my best friend who I wanted to see the world with was going to die in eight years because of the titan curse. And there was nothing that I could do about it. And the outside world we dreamed of never existed, and it was full of other people that wanted us gone."

Armin laughed bitterly. "But I wanted peace. Optimus wanted peace. We all wanted peace. But..." Armin remembered those words that were told to him. Told to him in the Paths by him. "Eren didn't believe that peace was possible. I think with his powers, he saw futures that were coming into fruition, and conflict kept happening over and over again...I don't think Eren saw a point in making peace anymore, and just wanted to act selfishly to try and see the world I showed him in that book all those years ago.”

Armin started to cry. "And I...refused to notice or even do anything about it. I kept giving Eren the benefit of the doubt. So much so that, once again, Megatron was warning us that Eren was dangerous and needed to be dealt with. Megatron went out of his way to save us and warn us and I didn't listen because I didn't want to believe that my best friend was capable of such cruel and horrible things. And I hate him! I hate that he tried to destroy everything out of selfishness! That he told Mikasa he hated her! That he killed millions of people and Connie! But some part of me still cares about him and I hate that it does! But all I feel is hatred for him! Isn't that so hypocritical of me?! That I want Megatron to live, knowing what he's done and how it's so much worse than Eren, but hate my own best friend for following the exact same thing that Megatron did?!"

Armin froze when he saw everyone staring at him in shock. Armin finally noticed the tears streaming down his face and rubbed them away.

"Tell Ultra Magnus, that I don't want to talk about Eren anymore." Armin stood up, "Never again."

Armin walked over to the bathroom and shut the door behind him, leaving everyone to sit in the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, let's make it a rule to not speak about Eren anymore, especially since the wounds are still fresh." Hanji pointed to the bandages around their eye.

"Yep." Rafael said.

"Totally." Miko agreed.

"...Got it." Jack relented. He stared at his phone and type one final text before throwing it aside.

I should have never asked about him.

[carefulfears]

top 5 (or 10 if you have em) scully taking care of mulder moments <3

she said IF i have 10 😭😭😭

1/ sein und zeit

i fear i have talked about this television scene more times than anyone has ever talked about a television scene....like. one, two, three, four, i was even foolishly invited onto a podcast to talk about it more...

my tags here:

she gets down on the Ground. there's something so primal about it. there's such a lack of pretense and sense of desperation about it. the way he hits the table. we so Rarely see him lash out like that. but it's just too much to Bear. like everything in him is just Breaking the only thing that he's even remotely been able to hold onto amidst all of the unbearable loss and trauma in his life has failed. he's fumbling around for anything that might make it better. that audries fic describing him in this moment as an 'addict out of a fix' with 'newborn anger.' “this is the world? this is it?” it's the way that he spends this whole ep cooking up some elaborate mythology about missing children and how they can be found and then the last shot of the episode is that wide shot of all of the children's graves. sometimes he's just wrong. the world is so much fucking darker and uglier sometimes than the way he sees it. and that's what is crashing down around him in this moment. and she's sitting in the wreckage holding him tight.

this is such brave, brave love. i keep thinking about CSM in the following episode, standing in scully's apartment, warning her. "allow him his ignorance, it's what gives him hope."

she doesn't know what will happen to him, to her, to them, when she breaks down the only method of coping that he has. his mother lost her bedrock too, and she didn't survive. from the moment scully enters, you can watch it break her. she does it anyway. she gets down on the ground, and she cries, and she holds him. god, it all just would've been so different, if there'd been just 1 person, 27 years ago.

(thinking about mulder reaching up to hold scully when missy died, and these tags asking: did anyone hold him, when it was his sister?)

i love the show's message on grief (and trauma), in that this is all that is necessary for "closure." there is no "Truth," (and there really isn't any closure, there's no "beyond" the sea). but it matters that someone knows. it matters that someone bears witness. it matters that someone tells you the truth, even when it fucking breaks their heart. sits in the destruction with you.

the exhaustion in her voice the next morning, when she tells skinner, "it's been a hard night for him." she's still wearing her work clothes from the day before. she was up all night. she's tired, and she's scared, and she's sad. it's been a hard 7 years. it's been a hard 27 years.

it makes me tear up every time i see it, the way she blocks him in the doorway. she's not moving. this is just so scully. it's not even starbuck, it's just so scully. she would keep him in that apartment where she could cover him and control what touches him forever, if she could. (she can't, so you're not taking him anywhere without her. the way she looks her boss in the eye and tells him he better book her a flight too. brave love.)

2/ demons

god, this one just makes me sad. this might be the one that makes me saddest. she's dying. she doesn't have it in her, anymore. i talked about this in my newsletter (and i wrote a fic about it once) but this is like...the only time where she never calls him out on what he's doing. she never yells. she never rolls her eyes. she never gets frustrated with him. she doesn't have it in her. she's dying. he will be alone. she won't be here the next time. what can she even do about it?

i always think about this post:

and you know she is thinking about how if she hadn’t been there he would’ve died. and how the next time he does something like this, she won’t have enough life left in her to keep them both alive. she might not even have enough left for herself. and she’ll give whatever she does have left to him, but it won’t be enough to save either of them. she’ll die cold and pale and he’ll burn himself out. and what can she do but hold him? who will he have when she’s gone? what will he do to himself? who will he call?

and these tags:

this is so cautious and tender and apologetic. sorry for all the pain he feels constantly. and sorry that nothing can ease it. and sorry that she is dying and leaving him like this.

she started writing to him as soon as she was diagnosed, begging. begging forgiveness, begging courage, begging grace. begging for him to not feel there was anything more he could've done, to not become the next cause he is lost in. for him to keep going, as she needs to know he's "out there."

but she's seen him hold a gun to himself too many times, and she knows he's coming down with her. and it's such a loss? this is a person she gave up everything, including her life, to follow, because she believed in him and what he wanted to do in the world that much. but things are different now. he won't survive this. he won't be "out there" saving the world.

what can she do? go to rhode island at 5am, wrap him up. stay quiet, stay still, but scream and thrash at anyone who's careless with him. sink down next to him, cover him, hold him. "maybe we need every answer in the world to survive a single question: how long do we have each other?" (x)

(also, her memento mori journal, in general. she sat in that hospital alone, for days, knowing she was going to die. and she wrote letter, after letter, after letter, to him. so that he would have something. so that he wouldn’t be left alone with nothing, again.)

3/ the end

"as mulder appears. the look on his face is of a man who's seeing, smelling, and tasting the loss of everything he has worked for. it's the look of utter defeat. angle on scully at the door. she sees only mulder right now...she moves to him now. putting her arms around him, holding on to keep him from breaking. off this, we fade out. the end." (script)

i think so often about the script notes of this scene. the description of mulder, as absorbed in destruction. everything that he's worked for, literally reduced to (cigarette) ash. scully only focused on him.

in the final angle of the season, you can really see how she's standing in front of him. her fingers clutching him. but when she first grabs him, it's so tentative. it almost feels like she's trying to see if he's still there, if he exists, if his work doesn't.

this is...the whole thing! there's a reason why this was "the end." the final image of this iteration of the series, before everything changes. this is what it is all about. it's mulder walking headfirst into the devastation of the world. drenched in loss. seeing it. smelling it. tasting it. surrounded by it. and it's scully knowing what he'll find even as he's still moving (this script note, from the hallway: "reverse on scully. returning the look. knowing what mulder is going to find. and what it will mean.")

following behind. eyes on him, while he takes in the ash. just holding on for dear life; trying to keep him close, whole.

(also, i love the moment before the fire, at his apartment, after diana was shot. the way scully tells skinner that he can reach her at mulder's if he needs her, because that's where she'll be. he doesn't even have a bed, or anywhere for her to stay!! she's not leaving him.)

4/ paper hearts

oh, starbuck. we are really in it now.

paper hearts is an ahab and starbuck episode, yes. but mostly it's about grief. mostly it's about harsh awakenings. mostly it's about confrontation with fear, scully's included.

one of the most haunting moments of the series, to me, is when they speak to the father of the 14th victim, twenty-one years after his daughter went missing. and through tears, the father says, "i used to think...that missing was worse than dead, because...you never knew what happened. now that i know, i'm glad my wife's not here. she got luckier."

in that moment, as mulder looks over at the photos on the mantle, missing is not worse than dead. it is not worse than knowing. and later that day, in his first scene, roche calls it exactly as it is: "i understand you take this very personally, mulder."

i've written about this scene in the hallway so many times, because it's truly the crux of this episode (my favorite episode).

from my newsletter:

There’s something so viscerally deep about this episode that’s hard to put into words, but to me, it is most palpable in the moment in the hallway when Mulder asks Scully if she believes that his sister was abducted by aliens. And you can see in his face that he knows the answer, and he’s challenging her to come out and say it. You can see in Scully’s that she would rather admit to anything else.

he's challenging her. he's taking their entire dynamic, and throwing it in her face. not to be cruel. not to disrupt. but just to say...so what now? isn't this what you believe?

i don't think that they've ever been so fragile, as in this hallway, honestly. they rarely threaten to break it all down. their entire lives are built on him walking up to tragedy and saying: it was aliens. it was XYZ. and her following behind saying: no. it was a killer, it was a man.

what does that mean? what is she really saying?

this episode is hard on scully. mulder has never been more haunted. there has never been a bigger reminder of what they are actually doing. they are not just chasing little green men, having adventures, studying sewer worms. they are trying to make sense of something that will never make sense. they are trying to find a "truth" that they do not want to know. they are living their lives in mourning, in bereavement, in remembrance, of a missing little girl, and scully is terrified that they'll find her. that it will be exactly like roche threatens. that missing is not worse than dead.

and there is no one else. there is no one else that even knows how haunted he is. how stuck he is, in that childhood bedroom, like he said all those years ago. how deeply sad it is.

it's all of the little things. it's the "you did good work, mulder" in the beginning. it's the way she asks if he's okay to go tell the 14th victim's family. it's way she exclaims "oh my god" when roche says that he just wants to see mulder's face, when he finds samantha's body. one of the few times that we ever see scully lose control, but she just stands up and screams, opens the door and wordlessly waits for mulder to get up and get out of there.

it's the way that she hears "help me, scully" and digs in the dirt, with her bare hands.

(you can tell in his eyes here that he's been crying, and it really gets to me. there's so much that we don't see.)

in the end, they're back in the basement. nothing left but one scrap of tattered fabric, one more lost failure. it's over. she just comes down to check on him.

the progression of scully's face in this last scene is just unbelievably gut-wrenching to me. her smile, when she tells him to get some sleep, and he laughs. the way it disappears when he holds her, and can't see her anymore. with his mother, flashing that smile and hugging her was all that it took to convince her not to worry. when he repeats the same actions with scully, she looks like she could break.

this post:

Episodes like this make me think how alone - not just lonely, but truly alone - Mulder was before her. Nobody lost sleep over him falling apart under the fist of decades old trauma. Nobody grappled with him, let him wrestle his grief against them, and still stayed. Nobody visited him in the hospital, flew to Alaska, lied for him, stayed by his bed for days straight without an extra change of clothes. Nobody else knew he was suffering or wanted to, knew it more than he knew. That end of Paper hearts where she tells him to get some sleep, he laughs at the ridiculousness of it, but also out of incredulity at having someone to wish for better on his behalf. The heartbroken look on her face as he’s laughing into her waist seems to be her coming to the same realisation; “Who looked after you before? How long did you feel like this on your own?”

she is heartbroken. there is so much grief, in being starbuck. there's grief in being needed. there's grief in following ghosts. there's grief in loving someone who is so encased in pain, in loss. he will not go home and get some sleep. a well-placed joke, that smile, a hug, does not convince her that he's okay. he hurts so much, for so long, and he has one person who knows it. and all they do is keep moving: closer and closer to that breaking point that she is so afraid of, and they can't stop.

5/ redux ii

remember when dana scully lied on her death bed and looked up at mulder as he told her that he was not willing to jeopardize skinner to save himself, and she replied, "well, then, you have to lay it on me."

the way he smiles and shakes his head, chokes out "i can't...i can't do that." through tears...they are so kind to each other. all that she has left in the world is her reputation, and she says: take it. take it all. take everything.

she cries when he won't do it.

6/ herrenvolk

okay, i wanna get into some slightly lighter ones, so y'all remember when she nearly fully knocked skinner into the wall, because mulder came in with a (checks notes) scratch on his face?

this is just so scully.

she is so panicked. she just wants to slow him down, to stand between him and the world for even one moment longer.

these tags:

she's almost begging him not to go in. the extent of her worry is heartbreaking. she loves him. it frightens her to know what awaits him.

one of the biggest conflicts of scully's character is that she just cannot stop him, she cannot shield him, she cannot protect him. the way she leans up here, and pulls him to her shoulder. covers him with a blanket. this is what she can do.

there is so much grief in being starbuck!! in loving someone who walks blindly into a world that you do not trust. in following someone into the worst night of their life: over, over, over. years, years, years. in being first mate, holding the responsibility on your shoulders of having to steer in a safe direction, only having one to choose from.

(i also think it's really special, all of the little moments where she checks in. in the previous episode, in the hospital hallway, the way she says "are you okay?" so softly.

in paper clip, when she makes him stop, and says "no, wait, hold on a second...i don't think you've had time to process everything that you've been through."

remnants of the girl who told him she'll cover for him and he should just go get a beer, take some time for himself, after jersey. who suggested he talk to someone, when jerry lamana died. she's always wanted so much for him, but she understands more now. there's still room to pause, for a moment, before he carries on.)

7/ anasazi

ladies, would you shoot your man with a gun, to keep him from endangering himself, while he was being laced with LSD, and then drag him across the country singlehandedly, while he was unconscious, despite him being twice your size? and this, too, is taking care.

the way she says, "i was certain they would have killed you, mulder." and the fear in her voice, his hand on her knee. (she is so young. she really doesn't know what to do, not as often as she seems like she does). the way he says, "thank you. thank you for taking care of me." they are so kind to each other. it'll break your fucking heart.

(i remember asking y'all a few weeks ago, if mulder and scully ever say "i'm sorry," if they ever apologize to each other. and we came up with a couple of times. i'll tell you what, though: not as often as they say "thank you.")

8/ fire

girlbosses when they singlehandedly solve serial murders, to get their best friend's shitty ex away from them!!! okay, i put this one on here because we were talking about it yesterday, but scully really does handle the entire situation with phoebe so perfectly, and that's hard to do, when you're dealing with friends and abusers.

trish, i loved this part of your post yesterday:

scully gives him the space to talk about it, never says too much but she says enough. her phrasing is SO important. she repeats what he just told her in a way that frames it as wrong.

she's a little rabid, lol. we can see it on her face when she's alone, or when mulder's not looking. but around him (around phoebe too) she's calm. she listens, she addresses what he tells her as bad, without pressing. when he tells her that she's off the case, that he doesn't want to expose her to what phoebe is doing, she asks one time: are you sure you don't want help?

he says yes, and she does it anyway. she catches that fucking murderer so that this woman can go home. just, like, an inspiration to us all.

trish's tweet:

really, truly, genuinely. scully solving the case in fire was the absolute best course of action she could have taken. get that woman out of here, an ocean away from mulder. (give him freedom, let him heal, teach him what real love feels like)

(her eyes locked in on him here, phoebe behind her. the way that when phoebe leaves the room, scully says, "you alright?" instantly.)

meeting phoebe just a few months into their partnership made her so fucking crazy like...i make fun of her for being sick in the head in regards to everyone he meets (men and women alike) and never wanting anyone around him other than her but like, my god, can you blame her!!! he's such a gentle person and people are so cruel and it makes her eyes bug out of her head.

yeah, i really don't have much else to say here, you guys. she solved a murder herself, a case that she wasn't even supposed to be working, so that his old gf would go away and stop being mean to him. she doesn't play!!

(also! while we're on the subject of abusive exes, honorable mention to scully cornering diana into an empty room and telling her to "just think" about who mulder is, who he was when she met him, compared to where he is now. "and then try and stand there in front of me. look me in the eye. and tell me mulder wouldn't bust his ass trying to save you.")

9/ deadalive

oh, you guys remember that time she raised him from the dead, right?

scully at 8 months pregnant, sitting in that hospital chair, holding his hand, for days. knowing he can’t feel it, knowing that there’s nothing that says he’ll ever wake up. that it’s impossible. that there is no science…yeah. she just sits there and holds his hand.

i love the moment when she finds out, and she comes barreling through that hallway. she hits skinner first, and starts yelling, “i want to see him. no, i need to see him,” slams her fists into his chest.

then she moves onto doggett. repeats, “i need to see him” through tears. and the way doggett says… “i know. but i wish you wouldn’t.”

she’s loved. they want to protect her, protect her image of mulder as she knew him. but they also both know she will fucking plow them down.

i always think of this fic and feel so ill:

“I pulled you six feet out of the ground,” she whispers, dangerously low. “Because I couldn’t live without you. I gave birth to your child.”

she fed his fish while he was in a casket. she planned a funeral and decorated a nursery alone, at the same time. she ran herself ragged all over the country, trying to keep his work going. she raised him from the dead.

(i also feel that i can throw in here, as related, the time that she busted him out of prison and then abandoned everything in her entire life including her career, her family, and everything she owns, to go on the run from the law and live secretly in seedy motels for years to be with him.)

10/ fight the future

there are too many contenders for my last spot, so i’m gonna keep it simple, and go with the most special movie moment. (of all movies).

from my newsletter:

“Mulder watches the spaceship as it flies overhead, his face glows with a heart-melting grin of childlike wonder and awe.”(x)

That’s exactly what it feels like to me, it’s an innocence and excitement that was so present in season one, that was all over him when he told Scully to come look in the second episode, but that’s rare to see in the later seasons. It’s rare to see at this point in their story, after all that’s happened. They are stranded in Antarctica, both of them injured, both of them freezing in the cold, and they are holding each other and gazing up at the sky. What a perfect thing in their big momentous feature, to bring it all back to what it started with.

there’s such a reverent sentimentality to it, in the simplicity. she had stopped breathing, a few minutes earlier. but when he passes out, she pulls herself up, and grabs onto him. keeps him alive, keeps them both alive, just by holding him close. that’s really the heart of it.

(also, i find it so moving that this film is the only time in the franchise that scully considers leaving, not working with him anymore, and it’s because she thinks she’s not good for him. that she’s holding him back. she never considers him as anything other than wanted, something worth believing in.)

some honorable mentions to: little green men, which i’ve written about here. (especially her secret-signaling him to their secret meet-up place, just to ask if he’s okay). the erlenmeyer flask, which i’ve talked about here. (she literally stops him in the street to tell him that she should have listened to him, and she’s sorry, because she should have trusted his instincts. that means so much, you guys). her telling colton she hopes he falls on his ass after he was making rude comments about mulder in squeeze, screaming at a serial killer that she’ll gas him into hell herself and no one will stop her, if mulder isn’t okay, in beyond the sea….she has threatened and shouted at and smacked around so many people for fucking with him, and this too is care!! (anger meaning you’re worth being angry over, etc etc)

how desperately she became frantic to find their son, after 17 years resigned to never ever looking for him, never ever endangering him that way…because she became convinced that it’s the only thing that would help mulder.

and how important samantha is to her. it matters. it matters, that sam is remembered. that someone else in the world knows. someone knows that they played baseball in the summers, that they fought over the television, that he’s looked for her in every room he’s ever been in. someone else cares about her; not as a white whale, not as a photo on a desk, as a little girl who broke her collarbone because she played on swings too hard. scully listened to her journal, and cried. listened to how much she suffered. how much she just wanted to see her big brother. (scully kept a journal like that, too, once. underwent those same tests. almost died at the hands of those same men. wrote her testimony to that same person.) it’s taking care of mulder, to love samantha. and she does.

[dmercer91]

ebug's sister, dm91

part one / part two /part three / part four / part five / part six /

blakefriarr_

liked by dawson1417, lhughes_06, and 6,213 others

blakefriarr_: my brothers an ebug, episode five!

i think ni saw me in the stands before the game started, cause he didn’t ONCE look in my direction and i had to scavenge the broadcast after the game to find an image of him under duress. it’s cute that you thought i wouldn’t find a way, though, worlds sluttiest captain™️

i added a photo of jack to this one since i flat out refused to add him to mine and quinnys groupchat, so we settled on this. for those of you this may negatively affect, i promise it’s a one time thing <3

the next two are both of dawson, since 1. he got a goal!! but second and most importantly, he’s got such a pretty smile and i think it needed to be broadcasted to all of you lovely people seeing this

then we have a goalie hug! i would like to point out that in the five games i’ve seen this season, they’ve won every time i was there. i’m the good luck charm. not even maybe. i am telling you it’s me

last, cause i want to rub it in jj’s face that i have a sweet, attentive guy that he doesn’t know the name of, is a message from my boy!! (he still hasn’t asked me to be his girl, so he’s not TECHNICALLY my boy, but shhhh we’ll ignore it)

view 607 comments..

jj.friar31: does this guy of yours know about your strange love for dawson mercer

→ blakefriarr_: i would say he's aware

lhughes_06: I RANK HIGHER THAN JACK!?!?!?

→ blakefriarr_: unfortunately you are very adoptable

→ lhughes_06: you're like eight months older than me

→ blakefriarr_: ok?

_quinnhughes: hey guy who won't be named where jj can see, if you're reading this, please ask her out before i go crazy

→ blakefriarr_: you said i could talk to you anytime :(

→ _quinnhughes: of course you can, sweetheart. that doesn't mean i wont go nuts

→ blakefriarr_: awh huggy you're willing to go nuts for me?

→ _quinnhughes: unfortunately i'm not immune to whatever it is you have going on in that head of yours

jesperbratt: i can't believe you just called nico a slut

→ blakefriarr_: believe it, bratter.

nicohischier: ... sluttiest?

→ blakefriarr_: what other word can be used to describe what it is when you flip your hair around with a bloody mouth and call people fucking pussies

→ nicohischier: i was hoping those clips would stay off your radar

→ blakefriarr_: that's impossible i see everything

adamfantilli: wasn't expecting him to be such a softy

→ lhughes_06: now what is this supposed to mean

→ blakefriarr_: rookie how did you manage it's been literally three days

→ lhughes_06: IS HE IN THE GROUPCHAT?????? BLAKE??

→ blakefriarr_: don't be so dramatic moose

→ lhughes_06: quinn?? what do you have to say for yourself?

→ _quinnhughes: she asked very nicely idk what you wanted me to do

→ blakefriarr_: 'i'm adding adam fuckface' 'cool lmao' there was no resistance and by definition i don't think i was being nice

→ _quinnhughes: why do i put up with this

→ adamfantilli: i feel so honoured you didn't even ask properly

→ blakefriarr_: whatever. love u, rookie

→ adamfantilli: love u, coach

→ lhughes_06: i'm killing you both and not in your sleep you deserve to know it was me

→ blakefriarr_: well now you can do it in our sleeps cause you just.. told us? that it would be you?

dougieham: i would like to formally apologize for my comment on your most recent post. i was out of line and i should not have spilled very highly classified of information about the groupchat. i hope my apology finds you well.

→ blakefriarr_: you're forgiven, but you're on probation

→ dougieham: quinn is that good enough

→ _quinnhughes: probably idk

dawson1417: i have a pretty smile? blushing

→ blakefriarr_: you're welcome, loser <3

→ dawson1417: that guy of yours ask you out yet?

→ blakefriarr_: he has.

→ dawson1417: yeah?

→ blakefriarr_: only to an event, though. hoping he'll man up n kiss me

→ dawson1417: best of luck, then <3

jackhughes: least favourite?? what did i do to deserve this

→ blakefriarr_: you are just incredibly underwhelming i'm sorry. be glad you got your picture in the post that is ALL i agreed to.

→ jackhughes: and quinn isn't??

→ blakefriarr_: do not diss quinn i will take your head of and put it over my fireplace

jj.friar31: ok so from what i'm compiling here i think it's either quinn or.. adam fantilli????? somehow?? when did that even happen how do you keep pulling this off

→ blakefriarr_: ok first of all if you think i would ever allow someone i'm romantically involved with to call me coach you need a lobotomy

→ blakefriarr_: second of all you are so dumb it's actually become fascinating. NEITHER OF THOSE PEOPLE LIVE IN JERSEY?? you think quinn hughes found the time in his nhl player schedule to fly down here and bring me home from work?

→ jj.friar31: oh right

→ jj.friar31: ignore me i've compiled nothing.

view more comments..

[ctimenefic]

So @strawberry-daiquiris wrote an incredible F1 Traitors AU (seriously, go read it) and was kind enough to let me paddle around in the Galex end of the pool.

Many thanks to @latecomersprivilege, for whom this is a belated birthday gift, an almost on time Valentine's gift, and ultimately not what she asked for but what she's getting!

It’s a month since the last episode aired and George hasn’t messaged him.

Oh, he’s in the group chat - he’s the admin of the group chat. He’s posting memes, even the ones about himself, nearly every day. Asking very sincerely after people’s partners, their kids. Adding little crying laughing emojis to almost all the jokes. (Almost all - never Alex’s. Not even once. Which. Come on. Checo’s not even that funny.)

So. Yeah, it’d been bad, at the end, at their last round table together, George damp eyed and smiling through it and Alex nearly fumbling his own defence trying to tell him one more time “it’s just a game”.

But. Like. Not so bad as to cancel out everything else. Or at least, Alex had thought so. Hoped so.

It’s been a month.

Hey just wondering if we shd have a coffee or smthg? Clear the air?

Sure. When?

Nxt wk? Peckham?

(George told him all about his little flat in Dulwich, how he properly loved all the twee village-y shit like the wooden sign-posts and bougie cafes, in their murmured conversations in the hotel corridors, heads ducked together and voices low. Alex had taken the piss, but so softly he’d barely recognised his own cadence. That- that had been the first clue, before he’d started noticing how George’s adams apple bobbed when he got loud.

But Dulwich is packed to the brim with Traitors fans, has to be, all middle class mums and families that gather round the telly of an evening to actually spend time together. They’d be spotted in seconds. So Peckham feels safer, crowded and anonymous and too fucking cool to pay attention if Alex has to get on his knees and beg George to- to-)

The cafe’s still a bit posh, which means it’s basically deserted. George is wearing the kind of T-shirt that only fits that well because it’s expensive.

He’s ordered tea already, and Alex wants to remind him to drink up, like he did at breakfast every morning, because George would always get too into their conversation to finish before it got cold. He’d slug it back anyway, wincing, and Alex would pretend to ignore the line of his throat.

“I’m sorry you didn’t win,” George blurts. “I know I- I didn’t help, I know, but after, I did want it to be you. You’d worked so hard.”

Alex stares at him. “I never thought I would. Maybe near the end, a bit, but. Well. I got lucky.”

George pulls a face. “Come on, you were brilliant at it. So convincing. I really thought I’d find out you were, like, an actor or something.”

George smiles at that, small and tight. “Oh, yeah, the office have been so weird about it. Saying they didn't watch, and then making jokes that prove they did. I've stopped paying attention to it.”

Alex tries to laugh, like it’s a joke. Like he hadn’t talked George’s ear off about the practice. How he’d use the money, if they won - as Faithful - to get back to his veterinary degree, properly qualify. “Nah, still at my old place. They’ve, uh, let me take the backroom stuff for a bit, while it dies down.”

Alex nods. Pretends George has got better at lying. “Hope they're not being nasty.”

“Oh, not too bad.” The ‘too’ makes Alex want to snarl, set his teeth in someone's neck. Bastards. And George's blasé tone runs a little thin as he goes on. “Might quit, actually, try the influencer thing for a bit. It's basically the same as sales, just, you know. Different product.”

“You'd be good at that,” Alex tries. “Influential. I'd be, uh, influenced.” In the time it takes George to blink three times, Alex experiences all nine levels of hell and a few more added just for him.

I'd be influenced. Christ.

“How are you doing with that, sponsorships and stuff?” George asks and Alex shrugs. He’s got his fans, the ones who think he was robbed, rather than bottled it. His Insta’s big, now, not millions but, like, decent. Marketable. Problem is, he isn’t.

“Turns out, being known as a really good liar doesn’t get loads of hashtag spon ops,” he says, trying to keep it light. Like money hadn’t been the whole point. George’s face falls, the first unrehearsed expression Alex has seen all morning.

“Oh crikey, I’m sorry, I didn’t- cause it’s been alright, and I was a traitor too, at the end so-”

“Yeah, but I forced you into it, didn’t I? I’m the bad guy.” There’s a decent TikTok edit of him to that Billie Eilish song, all his smiles and laughs and fond looks, set to the beat of sociopathy. It’s very slick; turned his stomach on the second watch. “Plus, you know, you look like that, which probably helps.”

He knows it’s been more than alright for George. He hasn’t liked any of his Instagram posts, too… proud? ashamed? But he’s seen them all, including the Stories, so George must know he’s been there. Or maybe he doesn’t, maybe there’s hundreds of people, and they’re not mutuals, he remembers abruptly. George didn’t follow him back.

He flips his phone in his hands, once, twice; worries at the crack in the screen down by the bottom right corner, just enough to feel the scrape against the pad of his thumb.

George notices, of course. Those big blue eyes, all the better for spotting clues. Terrible at knowing what they meant. “Do you wanna take a picture for insta then? Show people it’s all water under the bridge?”

“Uh, not really? I mean…” it doesn’t feel under the bridge, or air cleared. Alex still feels like he’s choking on it.

That small wrinkle he used to make fun of appears between George’s brows. “Wasn’t that the point of this?”

“Jesus, no, I’m not-” Alex feels sick, properly sick, hot chocolate coming back on him for a second. “I wanted to be friends - I want to be friends. Again.”

“Again,” George repeats, after a beat.

Alex swallows. Presses the tip of his tongue against the edge of his front teeth, where they turn sharp enough to cut, like a bit of pain now will soothe the sucking void where his stomach used to be. “Right, no, of course. Forget it, look, I'll get these and-”

George catches his wrist before he can make a break for it. His thumb lands in the soft spot between the tendons, where Alex’s pulse beats - ha - traitorously fast.

“Wait. You haven't told me how your mum is. And your sisters. And Luca, obviously, and the cats.”

“The cats?”

“Yeah, obviously. Can't go before I hear about the cats, ‘Lex. All of them. So you should probably, um, sit back down.”

So he does.

[getsojaded]

you don't go to parties iii | calum hood

a/n: I DID IT GUYS R U PROUD OF ME

i was in a bigggg writing funk before this and i’m glad i got it done. sorry for making u guys wait so terribly long for it. i love u

warnings: calum hood x she/her reader, lowercase intended, calum's a mess (slight alcohol tw) angst happy ending

—

calum ghosted himself from everybody since that encounter with him, y/n, and his bandmates.

the other three boys tried their absolute hardest to get a word out of him, making endless phone calls, sending texts every ten minutes, and they even tried knocking at his door. calum ignored all of them, and gradually, it all just stopped.

he didn't really know what to do with himself. he had been so used to an environment full of so many people around him, and now? only having, himself, his dog and a few guitars? this felt new to him.

he also hadn't touched a drop of alcohol since him and the boys' fight.

looking back at it, calum knows he might have not reacted in the best way possible. he was angry, he really was. seeing his ex-girlfriend leave michael's house with all three of his bestfriends there was almost the last thing he expected to see, and it took him aback. but he knows he had no right to start yelling at all of them.

he's tried reaching out. in calum's head, luke seems like he would be the easiest to talk to – they've known each other since they were sixteen ; they tell each other everything. so why couldn't calum just muster up some courage and call him? text him, even?

as he sits at his couch with his phone in his hands, he looks at the message he's typed out.

hey guys, i know this is kind of out of the blue but i wanted to say sorry to you guys in person. i did some really fucked up shit and i know you guys were just looking out for me. do you think we could all meet up?

he deletes it before laying on the couch and going to bed.

—

initially, calum's woken up by a ding!, indicating somebody's texted him. slightly suprised, but not awake enough to care, he ignores it and attempts to go back to sleep. that happens to be unsuccessful as his phone starts ringing.

sitting up from the couch slightly annoyed, he picks up the phone and rubs his eyes. "hello?" calum groans.

"calum?" a slurred voice rings through his ears, and that's all it takes for him to jump back into full consciousness. "calum! you answered!" y/n happily exclaims through the phone, and he already knows she's had something to drink.

"are you okay, y/n?" calum softly asks while he walks to his bedroom.

"i'm okay! i'm at the bar alone and i had a few shots, and i started thinking about you. the boys told me that they haven't heard from you in about a week or so, and i didn't contact you because i was scared i was gonna make it worse. but i was thinking about you and i got really worried, so i called you to make sure you're okay," y/n rambles, sighing as she finishes closing her tab, picking up her bag from the table and walking towards the exit.

"you're – you're alone?" calum asks, concern laced in his voice and his face although she can't see it. "yeah, i'm just about to leave. anyways, thanks for answering. i'm glad to hear you're okay-"

"y/n i swear to god if you end this phone call right now," calum sternly tells her in response, picking up his keys and making his way to his front door. "where are you?"

"you know where i am," y/n responds softly. "you have to know where i am."

calum stops in his tracks for a brief moment before fully understanding what she means by that.

"stay there, please. i'm on my way."

—

she's sitting on the side of the pavement, a cig in her hand while she waits for him to get there. she doesn't smoke very often, but when she does, she knows her emotions are taking over.

after y/n heard from michael that calum hasn't spoken to him or the other boys in over a week, she started to feel stressed out. was the slight fallout between all of them her fault? should she have hung out that one day with michael, and maybe everything would have been okay?

she's clouded in her own thoughts, a hand on her head while she takes the last hit of her cigarette before throwing it on the ground and putting it out with the heel of her shoe. headlights start to approach her, and from the car model, she already knows that it's calum.

she gets up and lightly brushes off her body before walking towards his car. calum quickly puts his car in park before rushing over to y/n and helping her into the passengers seat of the car.

"hi calum! good to see you." y/n tells him with a lazy smile on her face, looking up at him. the happy feeling is not reciprocated, as he looks at her with a nonchalant face and nodding to adress her.

he's back in the drivers seat, putting the car back in drive when she starts to speak up again. "are you mad at me?"y/n asks softly, playing with her fingers and not making eye contact.

"i'm not mad," calum starts. "i'm just, a little disappointed. you know better than to go out alone. you know that's not safe. i was just worried about you." he breathes out heavily, focusing on the road.

"that's not what i'm talking about, y/n responds, looking at him with a sad smile. "i'm asking if you're mad at me for seeing michael, luke and ashton. i'm asking you if you're mad at me for.. for leaving you."

"y/n, i don't know if we should be talking about this, at least right now we shouldn't..." calum trails off, closing his eyes for a split second.

"you can tell me the truth, cal. you can hate me."

he looks to his right, just to see her face for just a second, and she sees her looking at him with watery eyes and a small frown. she's on the verge of tears, and he can't let that happen.

taking his right hand off the wheel and reaching for her hand, he grabs it and intertwines it with his, his thumb rubbing against the base of her thumb.

"i don't, y/n. i don't hate you. don't think i ever could."

she nods silently, and the conversation comes to an end before calum reaches her house. he exits his side and opens y/n's car door to walk her to her front door.

“thanks for helping me get home,” y/n whispers to the boy helping her stand up while he takes out her keys from her purse. not saying anything, calum unlocks the door and walks the both of them inside, shutting it behind him and helping her take off her shoes.

she’s in her change of clothes and the two of them are sitting next to each other when calum asks, “why did you go to the bar tonight?” y/n’s still kind of out of it, and she can’t quite yet process the entirety of her situation. so while she’s sitting on the edge of her bed next to calum, she does what she feels is best — pour her heart out.

“i told you earlier, i’ve been thinking about you. i’m worried about you cal.. i have been even before you stopped talking to your best friends. i know how you’ve been acting, partying and all. and i guess… i guess like i feel that it’s my fault? i never gave you a chance? i just, i just kind of got up and left without telling you.. i shouldn’t have done that. and now, the first time we talk to each other in months is a result of me getting too drunk needing help… you hurt me a lot but i didn’t realize how much i hurt you.. and i’m sorry. it’s long overdue but, i’m really sorry. if i could go back and do it over again i would.”

calum’s glassy eyes meet her sad ones as she shoots him a small smile. “please don’t be mad at them,” she finishes, talking about luke, michael and ashton. “they love you so much, and they want what’s best for you. they’re worried about you, just like how i am.” she takes her hand and gently cups calum’s face, leaning her forehead against his.

“you did nothing wrong,” he breathes out, his voice shaky. “nothing was your fault, y/n. i promise.” he can’t have this conversation. not yet. not while the girl in front of him isn’t sober, and not while his thoughts aren’t collected properly. hell, y/n might not even remember this the next day.

“y/n, i have to go. i’ll text you tomorrow to ask how you’re feeling.” calum states, getting up from y/n’s bed and beginning to leave, but she stops him by grabbing his hand. “no, it’s late. i made you pick me up. the least i could do is let you stay here,” she pleads softly, holding her grip on his hand tighter. “please don’t go.”

and while calum knows he shouldn’t do it, he sighs and enters the bed in the empty space that drunk y/n made for him. he makes sure to leave a good amount of space between the two, even if it means he's on the verge of falling of the bed.

calum's doing everything in his power to what felt like for once, to do the right thing. he's hurt her one, two, three many times before and he feels like he's walking on eggshells in this moment.

his back is facing hers and yet he still can't sleep. he can't stop thinking of all the mistakes he's made and how much pain he's caused to the one girl he's only truly loved. he also thinks about his bandmates, his brothers. how could he have acted so recklessly towards them? he knows that he knows better, and yet he still didn't show it.

despite his better judgement, calum turns around to face y/n, out like a light. she looks comfortable – she looks at peace. calum subconsciously forms a small smile, and moves the few hairs out of her face.

and in this moment, he vowed to do better. be better. not only for her, but his bestfriends, and himself.

—

he’s surprised when he sees the caller id pop up on his phone. not only that, but he’s kind of scared as well. after not talking to him for what felt like the longest they’ve ever gone without doing such, how do you approach the conversation?

luke picks up calum’s call on the third ring. “hey, cal,” he begins. “luke, i know i have a lot to explain and i just wanted to say that i’m sorry. but i think it’s better if i come talk to you in person, do you think we could do that today?” calum asks.

“i’ll be at your place in ten minutes.” and with that, luke’s out the door.

—

“you look like you haven’t gotten any sleep.” luke states the second calum opens the door for him. “i haven’t. i also haven’t changed my clothes in 3 days,” he responds, gesturing to the black hoodie and grey sweatpants he has on.

the two take a seat on the couch across from each other before calum cuts right to the chase: “i stayed at y/n’s house last night.”

luke looks shocked when the words leave his mouth, “what? how? why?”

“she called me, and she was at the bar alone. she said she was just leaving and that she called me to tell me she was thinking of me, but i couldn’t just let her get home alone so i drove to her and dropped her off. and she was saying… she was saying how she feels like it’s her fault i acted the way i did after our breakup. and, that if she could ‘do it all over again’ she would. i tried telling her nothing is her fault, but i don’t know if she took it. then she asked me to stay the night, and i did,”

“what’s the matter, cal? why did you not want to talk to us? what’s going on?”

it’s evident that luke’s concerned, and it’s written all over his face. he looks almost scared ; scared for his best friend — his brother who he loves so much.

“luke, i don’t know,” calum’s voice breaks, looking at him. “i saw you guys with y/n and it just - i just raged. i’ve never felt so mad in my life and i can’t blame anyone for it but me. and then seeing y/n act the way i did - do, i realized that the stress and hurt i was feeling was something that you guys were feeling about me, if not even worse. i didn't realize that i was ruining my life. with all the parties i threw and went to, all the fucking alcohol, i saw it as my way only out. but it wasn’t. it changed me, and for the worse. i’m so sorry, luke. i’m so sorry to you, and ash, and mike. i’ll apologize for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes,” tears are running down the both of their faces as luke pulls him in for a hug.

“it’s okay, cal. it’s okay. we know you’re in a tough spot, and we’re here to help you. we were just worried. we all are.” luke reassures calum as he sobs into his arms.

"i need- i need to call ashton and michael. tell them i'm sorry. i need to-" "hey, hey, don't worry. i'll tell them to come here. it's okay cal, we'll all be okay. don't worry." luke cuts him off, pulling away and walking towards the kitchen.

"hey, i know it's kind of early, but somebody's here to see us. and it's important, so you might wanna get here fast."

within 15 minutes both boys opened luke's front door, to be greated by their teary eyed bandmate. they're already struggling to contain their emotions, and they all pull calum into a group hug. countless confessions, apologies, and tears are shared, and at the end of it, all four boys are certain of one thing:

that it's gonna be okay.

–

calum doesn't receive a call from y/n until the evening.

she's nervous, she's so fucking nervous; she could barely click his phone number. she's worried and embarassed and all around scared. she barely even knows what she's going to say to him.

"hello?"

"hi." she simpy responds, breathing in deeply. "sorry for not calling you sooner, i just finished my shift. and, thank you for helping me last night. i know it was out of your way."

"don't apologize, it's alright. and it was no problem, i'm just glad you ended up home safe."

there's silence on both ends before y/n speaks up again. "are you busy right now? do you think, do you- can i come over?"

"oh i- oh yeah totally, for sure." what the fuck. calum feels like a thirteen year old boy talking to his middle school crush for the first time with the way he's stumbling across his words.

"okay, see you." and y/n abruptly ends the phone call before rushing out of her house.

calum's sitting and fidgeting with his hands when y/n knocks on his door. slowly walking towards and opening it, he's greeted by the girl with a small smile on her face, wearing pyjamas and one of his old tour hoodies. "hi."

"hi, come in," he holds the door for her and she walks inside, kicking off her shoes, then following calum into the kitchen where he's grabbing two glasses. "want a drink?" he asks, her nodding in response before filling the glasses with water.

"i know you're probably wondering why i asked to come over," she starts, taking a big gulp from her glass. "and honestly, i'm kind of, uh, scared. nervous. but i know we needed to talk, about a lot of things. about us. about, everything really. and, i don't know if i'll ever be brave enough to say this again."

calum can almost feel the nerves radiating from y/n. to calm her down, he walks towards her and takes a seat next to her on the island, lightly placing his hand on top of hers before gesturing her to continue.

"i.. i know i shouldn't have left the way i did. i left you with nothing. no note, no 'goodbye', no anything. and i've regretted it ever since." she confesses, closing her eyes.

calum turns to face y/n, sadness planted on his face. "i understand why you did. i fucked up, beyond compare.. and, you did what you felt was best." this was gonna be a hard conversation to have. "yesterday.. you said, that if you could do it all over again, you would have. what do you mean by that? our relationship? or?"

"no, i meant, the end of it. we didn't even have a breakup – i just took my shit and left. i should've given you a chance to explain, have a fucking conversation like adults and instead i just, i was a coward! i just fucking left you. how could i have done that?!" y/n's visibly starting to get upset, tears forming from her eyes as she tries to continue. "and then i kept hearing what you were doing, and i couldn't help but feel like i'm the one to blame for that. maybe things would have gone better if i just, let you say something, anything to me. but i didn't. and for that, i am so, so sorry. i'll never be able to apologize enough for that."

calum's about to speak up, to tell her that nothing was her fault, that she shouldn't have to apologize, but she keeps going. "and then, at michael's house. i never meant to hurt you. they were just, looking out for you and they wanted me to try and help you. when you came over and i saw the look on your face, i-i felt even more guilty, and then.. and then mike told me you went m.i.a on them, and i just - it's all my fucking fault, isn't it cal?"

y/n's in hysterics by the end of her sentence, and calum can't stand to see the sight of her in pain because of him again. he pulls her into his arms, stroking her hair while he whispers everything from no, no it's not to it's okay.

"it's not your fault, i promise, y/n, it's not," he tries to reassure her. "we both made a mistake. everything i did.. the way i acted, it's on me," calum whispers, holding her tighter, hoping that would help take all her pain away.

"i'm sorry i never realized i was leaving you behind. you're the most important person to me, and the one thing i thought i'd never do was hurt you. but that's exactly what i did. and for that.. i'm not sure i'll ever forgive myself. i lost the one thing i thought that i would have for the rest of my life, and there's nobody to blame for that but myself. not you. it was never you." calum confesses, his throat tightening up as he prepares to cry for what felt like the hundreth time that day.

she pulls away slightly, her broken, tear-stained eyes facing his soft brown ones. "i care, so fucking much about you. and knowing you were upset, and turning to alcohol, i just... i love you calum, okay? i'm not sure i'll ever feel the same way about anyone the way i did with you. i've been so fucking scared because i can't stand the thought of anything bad happening to you and i, i'm sorry cal. i'm sorry i wasn't there for you."

"no, y/n, please stop apologizing. i'm sorry that i wasn't there for you."

the pair let their emotions get the best of them, holding each other as fucking tight as they possibly could while sobs come out from the both of them. there was so many things left unsaid, and letting it all out – they both needed this. they needed each other.

calum thought that he'd never wound up in this position - doing everything in his power to reassure y/n that it's not her fault.

“i’m going to do better, okay y/n?” he quietly says to her, slightly pulling away from the embrace, taking her hand and intertwining it with hers. “i’m done with this shit, i promise. it’s not good for me - it never was. and i’m so sorry. for leaving you in the dust, and for making you worry. it’s not happening again. never again.” calum places a soft kiss to her hand while y/n wipes away her tears with her free hand. she nods in response, closing her eyes and leaning into his shoulder. she’s exhausted, but she’s happy they had the conversation. yeah, it might have resulted in choked sobs bouncing off every wall in the house, but’s it off her chest. it’s off his chest too. they’ve said everything they need to say.

“thank you, for, hearing me out. thank you for your apology, and thank you for.. everything.” y/n says to him, placing a small kiss on his cheek, before beginning to walk towards the door, and calum grabs her wrist lightly to stop her. “wait, you’re going?”

“yeah, what else would i do?”

calum’s so scared to ask this question, and he doesn’t know what answer to expect from her. but if he lets her walk out that door, he’s not sure if he’ll ever get the chance to ask her again.

“where does this leave us?”

“i don’t.. i don’t know,” she replies, as calum grabs her waist. “where do you want it to be?”

“i want it to be you and i.” he confesses. “what about you?”

“i’ve always wanted it to be you and i.” smiles creep up on both their faces, and y/n lets out a sigh. “but, things have changed and, and, i can’t just pretend like the past didn’t happen..” she trails off, a frown forming on her face.

she can leave again. she can leave, and he won’t be upset. but, calum has a chance at making everything right. with his friends, and with her. and quite frankly, y/n knows in her heart, she doesn’t want to leave either.

“sleep on it. stay the night with me. in the morning, if you don’t feel right about this, you can leave and i’ll forever be thankful we had this talk. if we hadn’t, who knows how’d i continue to act. and if you feel even the slightest bit right about this, i promise, i will never let myself hurt you again.”

as y/n looks into calum’s brown eyes, she sees a glimpse of hope lingering in them. and for once, she feels the hope between the two of them as well. relationships are bound to go through rough patches, and it’s safe to say that the two of them didn’t handle them in the best way. she knows calum. and when calum hood is determined to fix something, anything, he’ll do everything in his power to fix it.

so she grabs his hand and the two of them make their way upstairs, climbing into bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

and when calum wakes up to the girl he loves playing with his hair and kissing his forehead, he smiles, and makes another promise to himself: to never let her think she’s anything less than a stupid party.

[talentisntgenius]

Heard you like PJhazel, so hope you don't mind some incorrect quotes I have made but am too shy to post on my blog, i know alot people don't enjoy incorrect quotes so feel free to ignore this message if you don't but if you...enjoy

Pj: I AM IN A BAD MOOD! NO ONE TALK TO ME!

Hazel: 🥺🥺🥺

Pj: Alright, fine. You can talk to me. BUT NO ONE ELSE! I MEAN IT!

-------------

Pj: hazel just said "I have an appetite for destruction" and then she reached down and untied my shoe.

____________

Hazel: Your legs look great in those pants.

Pj: You should see me without them.

Hazel:...

Hazel: Why would you take your legs off?!

--------------

Pj *covered in hickeys and scratches from hazel but refusing to admit who they're from*: I don't kiss and tell.

Josie, from across the room: That's literally the only two things you do!

_________

Sylvie: I dare you to kiss the next person who walks in this room. 

Pj: Fuck you, I’m not kissing anyone- 

*Hazel, walks into the room*

Pj: ...Fine, I'll do it. Rules are rules.

__________

Pj: Hazel; my beautiful girlfriend, taught me to think before I act.

Pj: …So if I beat the shit out of you, rest assured that I thought about it and am confident in my decision.

_______

Pj: Hey, babe, remember how I had to go to the pharmacy to pick up my ADHD meds?

Hazel: Yes?

Pj: Well, it turns out they're all out for the next five days.

Hazel: Fuck.

Pj: It's gonna be a fun week!

Hazel: I'm going to josie and isabel’s house.

Pj: Nuh-uh. Through sickness and health, motherfucker.

_________

Hazel: this is a stupid idea!

Pj: Hey, nothing we’ve done so far has been un-stupid, and we’re still alive, aren’t we?

Hazel: I can’t really argue with that, but I feel like I should.

------------

Pj: not that I'm complaining, but when I asked for a spoon, I meant the utensil.

Hazel *hugging her from behind*: Oh.

-----------

Pj: How do I tell hazel that I want her to yell at me like she's Gordon Ramsay and I'm a poor little chef who just ruined a crème brûlée?

________

Josie: Wow you and pj are home early from the movies. What happened?

Hazel: We got kicked out because pj wouldn't stop yelling diving scores as people jumped off the titanic.

Pj: That last guy had a solid 8, I'm telling you!

__________

Pj: We have a problem.

Hazel *is done with her shit*: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them

__________

Hazel: Hey, wanna have sex?

Pj: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

-------------

Pj: Before "the huntungton incident", I had so many interests. Now all I care about is whether or not Hazel had a good day.

-------------

Hazel: for the last time pj, they're called "hikes" not "stupid mental health walks"

Pj: I don't see a difference

________

Pj: Hazel is good at kissing. So good I want to punch the ahit out of the person who taught her.

---------

Pj: You know what would be sexy?

Hazel: What?

Pj: Eating food off each other.

Hazel: You didn't do the dishes, did you?.

Pj: ..I did not.

-----------

That's all I've got, hope you enjoy!

Anon I just gotta say, neurodiverse PJ is so real and you were brave enough to say it!!!! You heard it here folks: pjhazel aduhd couple (real) (canon)

Loved the last three in particular and the spoon one it's so them lmaooooo thanks for this! <3

[irudowb]

Phantom pt. 2

an: i made a part 2 because i felt like it

warnings: 18+ smut, sex, sex with feelings, confessions (sort of), kissing, swearing, fluff, no use of Y/N, fem!reader, like two other characters are in here.

lowercase intended

fic is below cut

he couldn't take it. how on earth is he supposed to see you after what he did last night. he could barely sleep a wink. the thought of seeing you after what he did last night grew far too embarrassing. more embarrassing to the fact that while he showered afterwards, he let himself indulge further.

he glares at his work outfit on his floor. he could just… put it on, go to work and pretend you're not there. no, ignoring you won't do any good, you'd dig into his very soul to figure what's wrong and why he's acting weird. just the thought of you looking his way has him shivering. yeah, absolutely not. this is not happening. he'll just call in. yeah…

crawling across the tatami mats he grabs his cell and calls kunikida, but as he hears the ringing, he freezes. what is he supposed to do. it's kunikida. he's not going to give atsushi the day off just because he so asks. he rushes to the bathroom right as kunikida greets him. he shoves his fingers down his throat, naturally, his body rejects them. he returns the greeting with insistent gags and heaves. what… the fuck is he doing?

"…atsushi?"

the line is silent for a few moments before atsushi croaks, "hey, kunikida!" he sniffles then coughs which turns into another gag. he can hear kunikida physically cringe.

"…yeah, absolutely not, don't come in."

"are you-?"

"there's no way i'm letting you come in with that. just… get better by monday." kunikida promptly hangs up.

atsushi is left with the dial tone ringing in his ear for a second before a wide smile etched across his lips. this is the first time he's pulled this stunt, and truth be told; he's proud. he's definitely not the type of person to skip work. besides kunikida, he likes to think he as perfect attendance, however, there can be… exceptions.

he wipes his face while mentally patting himself on the back, somebody get him an oscar.

now, he thinks, he just has to get himself back in proper shape before monday. it was friday, so he just had to avoid you all weekend. easy. he'd stay in, get into a new show, entertain himself to, completely and wholly, forget about what transpired. who was he even thinking about, he chuckles to himself.

his plan worked. until sunday rolls around.

being holed up inside all weekend was actually a lot worse than he thought. so, sunday morning he decided to go on a run, the fresh air would be nice, and moving his limps for more than five steps to the kitchen and back to his futon would be best.

on his way back, kyoka asks him for 'those cookies with the jelly filling' - she didn't know the name. atsushi laughs at the message before responding with a thumbs up. the market was on the way back anyway, he didn't think it would be much of a hassle.

but he also didn't think you'd be here. still in your pyjamas.

granted, it was early in the morning, there were five people in the market at most.

here you both were, face to face, in the juice isle.

he was not ready to see you, not yet! those beautiful eyes he so dreaded seeing, boring into him. you're talking to him but he can't understand a word you're saying. his mind so suddenly broke down the cage he built up, memories within.

it's only been three days and it feels like it's been months. yeah, he definitely wasn't ready, maybe he should take monday off too, maybe even quit, move to a different province, continent even.

wait, why are you looking at him like that?

"atsushi?" oh, that voice. he feels sick, dizzy with want.

"hi." he lets out, a little breathless; dazed.

"hi…?" you tilt your head looking at him quizzically from head to toe. "were you listening?"

"no."

"oh…kay, um." now why do you look confused?

oh.

"oh! no-uh, yes! i mean, sorry uh- sorry. i'm sorry, i just, um, have a lot on my mind. yeah…sorry." nice save, atsushi.

you squint your eyes at him while shifting your basket from one arm to the other. "are you feeling alright? you look very flushed." your tone is gentle but inquistive and atsushi wishes the floor would just eat him up, chew him like a piece of gum then spit him back out.

"i'm good! yeah, no i'm alright, i just uhh went on a run." not a lie, but he didn't have to tell you that the run wasn't even that strenuous, if anything it was a leisurely jog.

"i see…" you fix him another glance before shaking your head. "anyway, what are you doing here so early?"

"kyoka wanted me to pick up some jammy dodger cookies." he holds them up like they're evidence to a case.

"they sell those here?" your eyes light up and his knees feel wobbly. it was never this bad before, he wants to slap himself but at the same time he doesn't want it to end.

he hums, "yeah, want me to show you?" and you nod.

he trails with you as your finish your shopping, devolving into a, finally, normal conversation like you would everyday. the cashier rings up your groceries as you continue your conversation with atsushi.

"oh, by the way, how was work on friday?"

he tilts his head in question.

"i feel like i should be the one asking you that. i didn't go." a surprised noise escapes you.

"i didn't go either, i ended up catching a fever. it's gone now, but i didn't want to risk the others getting sick if i did get worse."

oh…

"are you feeling alright?" he steps closer.

"hm? yeah, yeah i'm all good. it was only for one day, it was kinda bizzare." you mindless explain, tapping your card to the pos machine. it's then that he notices you paid for his (read: kyoka's) cookies. you hand them off with a smile.

he walks you home, just like any other work day. he finds you two in the same position standing outside your door, only this time you don't lean up to his cheek, you instead say, "do you wanna come in?"

his mind immediately screams 'yes,' completely forgetting kyoka waiting at home for him. but… he's sure she can wait, whatever it is you two were gonna do in there he was, maybe, sure it wouldn't take long. he opens his mouth about to answer when the most logical piece of his mind scolds him for thinking that way. he closes his mouth again. is he really sure he wants to be in closed quarters with you? jesus, he thinks, he's not an animal. he'd have to get serious help if he can't control himself.

you stare at him with furrowed eyebrows trying to grasp why he's as stiff as a board, gaping. softly smiling, "you can stop by later, i'm not doing anything." finally pulling him out his minds discussion.

he exhales, matching your smile in thanks. he promises to come over when he has the time, before turning on his heel to hurry home. you laugh, turning your key, your dog barks. opening the door, she jumps and barks happily seeing your face, you mock her just as happily, shutting the door behind you.

when atsushi gets home, he starts properly weighing his options, being around you still could be awkward, this morning may have just been luck. but at the end of the day, he's your best friend, and you're his. he doesn't want to go over and have his own emotions fuck with it. he's going to be a normal human being and hang out with his best friend and NOT blurt out that he's in love with her and ruin months of bonding.

kyoka greets him at the door from where she sits at their kotatsu. he hands her the cookies, smiling softly as he watches her eyes light up. he excuses himself, easily being reminded of his sweat stench when he walked in. maybe it was best he didn't walk in to your apartment right away. now he has the time to make sure he looks good.

after his shower, he slips on a skin-tight white long sleeve and loose fitting casual black pants. stepping in front of the mirror, he tries to see himself from an outsider point of view. he looked… great, actually. atsushi gives himself a goofy smile trying his damnest to ignore what you'd think.

stepping out into the main room where he finds kyoka in the same spot. he notices, half a row in the cookie container gone, walking by he pops one into his mouth.

she looks up from her book and looks over his form. "you look nice." …happy, even.

he turns his head from looking in the fridge to her. "thank you." he poses dumbly, making her purse her lips hiding a laugh. he walks over sitting down on another side of the kotatsu, sneaking one more cookie. atsushi lets her know that he'll be seeing you later. this wasn't out of the norm, she thinks, what was out of the norm, was him practically dolling himself up for you. she wasn't stupid, she knew what it meant, she was just curious if he did, though she never brought it was. she was ready to talk about it whenever he was.

they talked for a while before kyoka got a message from yosano begging her to come shopping with her. yosano mentioned in the message that you had declined, atsushi had to stop the smile from ripping his face in half at the implication that you denied because you were waiting for him. he knew it was silly but that didn't stop him.

kyoka left and he sat around for a few minutes psyching himself up enough to walk over. whatever happens, he will not mess this up. he repeats those words a few times over staring at himself in the mirror before giving himself another confident smile, walking out the door. -

he was not nervous, he was never nervous, not when it came to you anyway.

so…

why is he not knocking?

he's right here. right at the door, just knock.

he exhales and raises his hand. three knocks and on the first one your dog barks from within. a few seconds and he hears you calm her down. his heart nearly beats out of his throat, swallowing it back down right as you open the door.

"hi!"

"hi."

your dog barks from between your legs and atsushi greets her as well.

"hi, ima! i missed you!" he feels your eyes on him, staring, he can't help but bask in the attention, unknowing.

"sorry! come in," you widen the gap, letting him in. ima, your dog, dances between his legs excitedly. squatting down to pet her, her tail lashes back and forth excitedly, hitting his hand - you notice, lacking their regular black fingerless gloves.

he stays entertained with her for the moment as you make your way to the kitchen asking, "can i get you anything?"

"eehh, i'll take a water, please."

he starts running through ima's training quietly, 'roll over,' he'd say, 'spin,' then finally, 'sit.' he claps happily at her, "good girl!"

you return back to where he is and hand him a glass. "i made some snacks, i wasn't sure." he walks out of the entry way (shoes off) with ima on his trail, sitting himself down on the couch.

"no worries, i don't think i've ever said no to food. i'm-"

"always hungry." you walk to the couch and give him a knowing smile, "i know."

he smiles back shyly but watches you sit down next to him.

from there, you delve into conversation, topic changing here and there.

you had just finished explaining telling the difference between predator's and prey's just from looking at where their eyes are located on their head - it was brought up when atsushi was telling a story of when a crow landed in front of him one day and starts staring him down, atsushi explained that he felt like a prey despite being three times the size of it. though, suddenly you remembered something.

"you mentioned early at the store that you missed work on friday as well, what happened?" you asked. he was completely unprepared for the question. of all the things he thought over when he was psyching himself up earlier, this was the LAST thing he thought you'd ask. "i know you're not the type of person to miss work, even if it is completely reasonable." he hears the scolding tone by the end but he's too lost in his head trying to think of a proper excuse to respond.

"umm, yeah. i ended up running into akutagawa after i dropped you off. we had a little scuffle, i wanted to take the day off to heal." not a half bad excuse, he thinks, before your eyes widen and start berating him with questions like, 'are you okay?!' 'what was he doing?' 'how did you get away?'

he holds his hands out in front of him in defence. "i-i'm okay! we fought for a bit before he inevitably said i 'wasn't worth his time'." perhaps it wasn't best to fill your mind with lies about something that didn't even happen. granted, you didn't like akutagawa anyway, but there's no need to feed the frustrations more.

you cross your arms and huff in frustration. "he really gets on my nerves. at the same time, i know where he's coming from but doing unnecessary things like that is so out of league, even for him." you glare at the wall like he's standing there ready to fight.

he chuckles nervously, hands dropping to his knees. you suddenly turn to him, leaning in close. he backs away slightly, but you relent. "are you sure you're okay?"

he exhales a low breath. "yeah, i'm sure. it was a few days ago, i was fully healed the next day." his timeline didn't fit, from the time he called in sick and from when he "healed," didn't make sense, he knew that, he knew you knew that too, but you didn't say anything.

you look him up and down as best as you can from where you're both sitting on your couch before nodding. "good." you pull back from his space. he has to physically restrain himself from trying to reduce the distance again. in the back of his mind, he can hear byakko growl at him, but he pointedly ignores her, only increasing her sounds. 'calm. down.' he closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. he's thankful you got up to refill your tea otherwise you would have dug into his soul, worrying over him.

you come back a moment later. "let me know if you get, like, actually hungry. i can order in or something." he nods as best as he can without it looking forced or shaken.

you two settle down after that on a show you picked up together. sometimes he would come over, sometimes you'd go over and watch, some days you would watch it over facetime just wanting to be in your own homes but still close in a way. it's an interesting show, something about law, atsushi was intrigued and really liked the show, but he had a hard time focusing on it right now.

his eyes are on you. your hair tied back with a black clip giving him the, oh so stunning view of your side profile. side burns lead his eyes down to the expanse of your neck, byakko purs at the idea of marking it, teasing up and down between your pulse point before ever gently sinking-- atsushi stands up suddenly, before you can ask if he's okay, he rushes out words, all you catch is 'sorry,' and 'bathroom.'

he has half a mind to close the door gently as to not draw more attention to himself. he glares so deeply in the mirror he's surprised it doesn't crack. 'can you keep it in your fucking pants for five minutes?' he feels byakko nudge his mind's eye as an apology but he knows it's not real. 'jesus, you really are an animal.' his words are rough but oddly affectionate. at the end of the day, byakko is him and he is byakko. some days (like today) he hates it, but it's who he is, somewhere deep in his mind he knows he wouldn't change it for the world.

composed, he walks back out, silently waving off your worried gaze with a smile, sitting back down next to you. just, ever so, slightly further away you noticed. your lips speak before your mind does. "atsushi?"

he turns to you with a questioning glance.

you didn't even know what you wanted to say, fumbling, you ask, "do you want to pause it?"

he looks confused but shakes his head, "no, that's okay."

you say 'okay' with an exhale, beelining your gaze back to the T.V. you feel his eyes on you, it feels like it's eating you inside out. unconsciously, you lips your lips, comforted by the wetness now coating your lips.

atsushi's soul is practically screaming, he should - needs to say, something, anything. this time around, byakko beats him to the punch. "come here." the words so quiet you wouldn't have heard it if the show didn't choose to be quiet right at that moment. you slowly turn your head to face him, his eyes certain but somewhere behind them it's unsure. you slide a little closer, bringing one leg up on the couch to make it easier to face him.

"what?" your tone genuinely curious.

shit, guess he can't keep it in.

atsushi leans in a bit, he whispers, "tell me to stop and i will."

before you even have time to vocalize your confusion, his lips are on yours. for a few moments you don't move. you pull back slightly, still very much in his space, catching his eyes with yours. quickly, atsushi starts forming an apology but before he has the chance to speak, you push back onto his lips, desperate. he makes a noise, strangled between a groan and a growl, whatever it was, it shoots down your spine to your hips.

his hand shoots up to the space between your cheek and the base of your neck, keeping you locked onto his lips (not that you wanted to leave). the show completely forgotten by now, you straighten your back, bringing your other leg up and sitting on it. his other hand reaches your knee, fingers digging into the crevice trying to pull you closer. you softly bit his lower lip, asking - begging - for more.

"fuck…"

he breaths your name against your lips, he brings your lips back together feverishly. he successfully brings your leg closer to him, but you decide its not close enough. without breaking the kiss, you swing your leg across his thighs settling yourself in his lap, hovering over him. both of your hands encase his face deepening the kiss.

he pulls back but a second later his lips are glued to your neck, your hands weave to the back of his neck, pulling and tugging the loose strands. he utters your name again against your skin and goosebumps dance along your entire body. he smiles into the junction between your neck and shoulder. hands meet your knees, slowly raising themselves higher, one hand hooks behind your thigh keeping you close. his fingers dig into your skin as if to consume you. a quiet moan slips past your lips, you feel an exhale against your shoulder and instantly know he's laughing at you.

desperate for control, you tug on his hair pulling his head back to you, slotting your lips once again. he curses against your lips, you swallow them up before they have a chance to escape. you grasp his forearms keeping them where they are, and find yourself nipping at the line of his jaw and down his clavicle. his head falls back against the couch allowing you more access.

"shit…" the words are followed by a breathy moan. you nose down the side of his neck and it's your turn to smile.

"who knew you had such a dirty mouth."

his eyes widen as he pants. it's nearly impossible now for him to form a coherent thought. your hands drop from his forearms and reach down to the hem of his shirt, playing with it, letting him know where you're at, not wanting to go to fast.

his mind is somewhere else, he pushes back into the plush couch before ripping it off himself. you're immediately back on him, this time planting butterfly kisses to his collarbone and shoulder. "i don't think i told you, but you looked good in that shirt."

the compliment goes straight to his dick. his hands find your hips. just as you did him, he digs the tips of his fingers up into it, desperate for your skin. you lean you head back looking into his eyes, both panting. you put your hands on his and guide them further up under your shirt. he takes the hint before removing it completely. the skin of your torso completely opposite of his - he notices. clear of any scars or blemishes, he thumbs and fingers everywhere he can, mapping it. he doesn't have more time to dwell on the differences between you two before you catch his lips again, this time more softly.

you grind and rock you hips into anything you can from your position. he takes notice and palms your hips, guiding you.

"god, you look so beautiful." you whine, frustrated at the lack of friction and desperate for more than you were a few moments ago.

"bedroom." you demand and he doesn't need to be told twice before standing up and wrapping you legs around his waist. you squeal and giggle, placing a hand on his shoulder. he gives you a smile.

he places you on the bed, gently, like you're a piece of fine china. your legs frame his torso as he plants his hands on either side of your chest, hovering over you. you wriggle around, getting comfy. he watches you with a fond smile.

"…what?" you push back into the mattress, trying to escape his blinding gaze.

"have i ever said you're beautiful?"

you squirm, "you just did earlier…"

"i mean before that. like have i ever. at all?"

this time you do pause, genuinely thinking. he hadn't. but you didn't mind, you weren't the type of person to feed off of other people's compliments. you knew you were pretty, you didn't need other people to say so. if other people didn't think so that was fine with you because they're subjected to their own opinions. granted, it is nice to hear compliments every now and then but you never beat yourself up about it.

"no." you speak plainly.

he really was an idiot, he thinks. he leans in close, brushing your lips against his whispering, "you're beautiful. you're so pretty it hurts. i can't go a day without thinking about you. i want to see your face when i go to sleep and i want to see it when i wake up. god, and you're so stunning in the sun," he plants kisses between his words every now and then, covering your face with his lips.

your eyes glimmer with tears, but you laugh, turning your face to the side trying to escape his wrath. "'kay, okay!" he begrudgingly leans back to look at you again.

"i love you." he speaks with so much certainty it nearly freezes you in time.

you exhale a shaky breath, a smile stretches across the expanse of your face. you grip his face pulling him down to a proper kiss, an 'i love you too' is brushed across his lips. he rushes his lips back onto yours in response, leaning in close, your chests connect.

he brings his lips back down to your neck, this time not blocked by clothing. he gently grazes his canine below your ear, you tremble and pant at the implication. reaching down between your bodies, you trail a finger up his erection through his pants. growling, he bites down on the corner of your jaw, not enough to break skin.

"please…" you whisper and he shivers so deep you feel it travel through him and onto you. he moves his hands down to the waistline of your pants, pulling back to silently ask permission. your own eyes swim in approval before he slowly slides them down, his eyes watching his own hands. contrasting his movements, once your pants reach your ankles you hurriedly kick them off. chuckling, he places kisses to your collarbone and down your chest. arching your back, you reach behind, unclasping your bra. he wastes no time latching himself back to you, worshipping you in every way. his hand crawls up from your calf to your thigh.

he continues down, his eyes watching your face the entire time. therefore, he sees your pleading eyes, but does nothing to hurry. if anything, he goes slower. he kisses the skin just above the hem of your underwear and whine lowly. had you not been looking, you would've missed the tug of his lips, threatening to smile. he takes the line of your underwear into his teeth before letting it go to slap back to your skin.

"atsushi!" you whine louder at the treatment.

"there it is…" both hands on your hips pull your underwear down your legs. you move to lock your legs together, shy, but atsushi places himself back in between, nipping the side of your knee as a punishment. leaning up he kisses the fold where your thigh bends at your hip, leading the kisses to the inside of your thigh, giving the other side the same treatment.

your hand finds his head, softly scratching his scalp. looking up again, he sees you just the way he thought you'd look. hair sprawled across your pillow, face flushed, panting. he smiles into your skin.

"atsushi, please…" and who is he to deny such a pretty request.

he lays kitten licks to the hood of your clit. but you, ever so attentive, keen at the attention, head falling back to the pillow. he pulls back slightly to lay his tongue flat against your entire heat, bringing his tongue back up to flick the top. back arched slightly, you moan freely.

he continues the slow treatment, his fingers soon joining the mix, they tease your leaking hole, pushing in and resting in your heat as he sucks and flicks your clit. you wriggle your hips trying to find movement on your own. his free arm is thrown across your hips, stilling them. you keep his treatment locked away for now, eager to give him the same, torturous, behaviour. his fingers finally move, curling, driving into you slowly.

you open your eyes, looking down at your lap, finding him boring his gaze into you, face flushed in red. at this moment, he picks up his speed, essentially pushing you back flush to the sheets. moaning so loud you can feel it bounce off your walls and back into your own ears.

atsushi hums into your heat, the vibrations making you very aware of the knot that tightens in your abdomen. "fuck… atsushi, wait." he must be aware because he hums again, picking up his speed. groaning, your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs shake, toes curling. with one final moan that devolves into a loud whine of his name.

it takes a moment for your vision to clear, but you quickly look down to your hips again.

ah.

there he is.

he nuzzles into your thigh, lips messy with his own spit and your fluid, a small smile ajorned with it. "you sound so pretty moanin' my name like that." you throw your head back, hands covering it in embarrassment.

he lets out a sympathetic laugh before crawling up your body, his face inches from yours. your hands falls back from your eyes but still covering the lower half. his eyes twinkle in apology but you whine indignantly. he kisses your hands; where your lips would be.

"when did you become so vulgar?" your words are muffled but he understands.

he shrugs with an ever growing smile. he's literally the worst. fine, you think, two can play at that game.

your arms quickly wrap around his neck, bringing him down to a kiss, he lets out a surprised noise, but kisses you back. in this moment you take the time to flip him over, his back hits the mattress with a soft 'thump' and you straddle his hips. folding yourself over, you kiss him softly, playing with the band of his loose pants.

"these need to go." you whisper.

"yes, ma'am."

you help him shimmy out of them, boxers along with them, sitting back down on his thighs, you stare at his (very hard) length. committing every colour, vein, and blemish, to memory. "s-stop staring." surprised by his sudden shyness, you lean forward kissing him, he accepts it greatly, moaning into your mouth as your nails gently scratch down his stomach, hovering near the space where his erection twitches against his thin abdomen.

"you're so pretty it hurts." repeating his words from earlier, he playfully bites your lower lip in response. "i never want to look away." your hand sprawl across the expanse of his chest, unconsciously paying more attention to the scars.

"fuck, if you don't touch me right now, i will explode." his eyes dance in humour at his own words, but you know he has some truth behind them. you let yourself take in his flushed face, panting, biting your lip, you ghost your fingers over his skin from his chest, all… the way… down… atsushi deep groan shakes your core.

you're shook with unease that, maybe, he might take things back into his control. but you feel his hands on your thighs, rubbing up and down slowly, telling you, he's enjoying the treatment. regardless, you don't make him wait any longer. you lay a single finger to the tip of his cock, twitching at the attention, dragging your finger down to the base. his hips jerk slightly as he lets out a low moan.

you grip the base softly, but tight, watching his face scrunch, trying to restrict his own hips from moving. he utters your name with his eyes closed, head against your pillow, one that you'll probably never look at the same but never get rid of.

your fist moves up, slowly, to the tip, squeezing out the precum. hmm, you wonder. folding over, you kitten lick the fluid that beads. he lets out a gasp, his hips jerking up against his will. his head shoots down to look at you. from there, he sees you smiling, smugly. fighting back a curse, his hand squeezes the fat of your thigh.

a moan is ripped from him as he feels your lips wrap around the tip, tonguing the stretched flesh right below the tip. oh god, he feels dizzy.

"stop. i need to be inside you right now. please… shit, please!"

before he even finishes, you're moved up, knees on either side of his hips. grasping the base of him lining yourself up. you freeze.

"…what?" fuck… he sounds so hot breathless.

silently, you crawl off of him and reach for your nightstand cabinet. sraddling his hips once more, showing him the square gold foil.

atsushi scolds himself so loudly he's surprised you don't hear him. "thanks, sorry."

you laugh, easing the tension. "don't apologize, i nearly forgot too."

opening it with your teeth (that did not need to be so hot), gently rolling down his dick. grabbing his base again, you, finally, finally, sink yourself down. atsushi throws his head back, refraining from bucking up into you. you pause a few times, panting, adjusting, before you hips are flush with his.

your head drops forward, moaning softly, squeezing around him experimentally. nails digging into his stomach, you'll have to remind yourself to apologize later.

he lets you take this at your own pace, but, god, is his patience wearing thin.

slowly, you raise your hips, right before his erections escapes you, you slam your hips back down.

"fuck!"

biting your lip so hard it turns white. your hips shake and tremble, planting your hands on his stomach, you raise up again and come back down, rolling your hips.

"fuck, just like that." the praise fuels you, repeating the motion faster this time.

leaning forward, you lay your chest flush with his. his arms wrap around your waist, planting his feet, he fucks up into you. distracted by the feeling of you, ever so warm and soft.

"you feel so good, ah, ff- shit," you meet hips with fervor, biting the skin of his collarbone.

'please, please.' his cock hits you perfectly, "please, please, please..!"

"c'mon… that's it." his heavy breath against your ear pushes you over the edge. clinging to him desperately, squeezing all around him, his moans mix with yours, falling off the edge together.

your chests push and pull against one another, eagerly grasping for oxygen. he returns to earth at the feeling of your lips leaving lazy butterfly kisses across his neck. he smiles wobbily, eyes fluttering. you trail your kisses up his jaw, his cheek, his nose. turning his head, he finds your lips on his, hand reaching up, keeping you in place.

your dog suddenly barks from the doorway, atsushi leans up on his elbows as you sit up, both staring at your dog widely. she tilts her head quizzically at the two of you. your eyes shoot back to atsushi, watching at him blankly, there's a small tug on the corner of atsushi's lips and it opens the floodgates. laughing, you're suddenly aware that atsushi is still very much inside you. the odd feeling of him still sheathed inside while laughing, cuts you off, jerking your hips up, with a helping hand on his hips.

"ah, fuck…" hissing softly before laughing again. he lays his hands on your hips helping you.

"you didn't shut the door." you lay on your stomach beside him, burying your face into the blanket.

atsushi, still laughing, says "i didn't know i had to!"

"well, now i've scarred my dog for life." he leans over, laying a gentle kiss to your shoulder. sitting up he ties the condom, throwing it away before shooing your dog out of the room, this time, actually shutting the door.

he crawls back onto the bed, kissing the back of your thighs and up to your shoulder. "'m sorry." he mumbles into your skin. turning your head, you playfully glare at him.

his fingers trace over your bare back, faintly, you can feel him spelling out his name. "all is forgiven if you take me out later."

"done!" he rolls you back over, planting his lips all over your face again. he backs away giving you the same fond look from before. "i wasn't lying earlier."

it takes you a moment to catch what he's saying, but you play dumb anyway. "about what?"

"that, i love you. i don't think i ever didn't love you. from the moment we became friends, i knew it was you."

you hold his head in your hands, smile stretching with each word he says. pulling him down to a kiss that soft but powerful, easily reciprocating his words.

"i just," he takes a breath. "i'm still new… to all of this. but i'll learn, i'll learn to understand. i just need time, so don't…" leave. he didn't want to be selfish, but when has something this good ever fell into his hands? and who was he to let it slip through? it's too much all at once, but he wants to wear it. keep it on his body, at first it's always uncomfortable; like a bracelet, but over time his skin adjusts. he'll get reminded of it everytime he feels it shift, but instead of the beginning it's a weight that he'll remember forever. he wants that to be you.

you lay a feather light kiss to his nose. "oh, atsushi. i'm not going anywhere. we'll learn together and individually, but we'll always be there for each other."

he wraps his arms behind your back, digging his head into your chest, laying flat. "thank you." it'll take time, but he knows that he'll become the best version of himself for you and for him.