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marsplastic13 · 3 months ago

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'Complicated' (part 10) - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names)

Genre: modern AU, slow burn

word count: 9k

notes: soo super long part because I wasn't sure of where to cut

@millercontracting @coldmermaidhologram @syd649 @cryptidghostgirl @luffysprincess

Kaz moved through the next few days mechanically, his mind miles away. He avoided everyone and everything, lost in a haze of thoughts and emotions he couldn't fully process. When Inej asked for some time to think, he agreed without hesitation. He wasn’t ready for those difficult conversations, not when his mind was consumed by someone else entirely.

He obsessed over Y/N’s Instagram, watching her have fun on her cruise while he replayed their last conversation over and over in his mind. Glimpses of the night they shared haunted him, moments of intimacy and connection that only made the present more unbearable. He counted the days until her return, but every time, he stopped, he asked himself: then what? She had made it clear that things wouldn’t work and that she didn’t want to try.

For two days, she didn’t post anything, and Kaz was losing his mind. At first, he thought she had blocked him. Then, his thoughts spiraled further, leading him to check if the cruise had sunk, his anxiety manifesting in irrational fears.

He was on his couch, watching replays of MasterChef, when his phone buzzed. Frowning, Kaz saw DMs from one of Y/N’s roommates.

‘Hi, I know you and Y/N are not on speaking terms, and I know she’s going to kill me for this, but I have to tell you. Her grandma had a heart attack two days ago and she still hasn’t woken up. Y/N had to come back and she’s been at the hospital since then. She told us she doesn’t want anyone, but we thought maybe you could make her reason better than us.’

He was already on his feet, reaching for his car keys. ‘I’m on my way’ he replied quickly.

‘Can you stop here? We have a bag of her things ready’

Kaz reached Y/N’s house, where her roommates were already outside, waiting for him. One of them handed him a bag.

“There are some clothes, a book she had on her nightstand, and a few other things. Oh, and her glasses,” she explained.

Kaz nodded, taking the bag from her hand.

“She probably hasn’t eaten in days. Can you get her—”

“McDonald’s, yes,” he said confidently, already planning the next steps.

The girl’s face was filled with worry. “Kaz, she has no one else. If anything happens to her grandma, she’s going to lose it badly.”

He nodded again, feeling his heart race.

Outside the hospital, Kaz sent a text to his boss, saying he was taking the week off, and then turned off his phone. He found Y/N sitting on the floor outside her grandma’s room, staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes widened when she saw him, red and puffy from crying.

Without a word, Kaz slid down onto the floor next to her, ignoring the protest from his leg. He circled her shoulders with his arm, and she immediately threw herself onto his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He held her tightly, his own emotions threatening to spill over as he tried to be the support she desperately needed.

As she cried, Kaz rested his chin on the top of her head, stroking her hair gently. He wanted to say something comforting, but no words seemed adequate. Instead, he held her, letting his presence speak for him. In that moment, nothing else mattered but being there for her, giving her a shoulder to lean on in her darkest hour.

As she cried softly against his chest, Kaz's heart ached with the weight of her sorrow. He held her close, feeling her tremble with each sob, his own emotions tumultuous yet contained. His fingers traced comforting circles on her back, a silent gesture of solace amidst the sterile hospital environment.

Hours passed in their embrace, time marked only by the occasional shuffle of nurses outside and the rhythmic beeping of machines in the room. Eventually, y/n's voice broke the silence, a hesitant question cutting through the heaviness of the moment. "Do you want to go in?" she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

Kaz nodded gently, helping her up from their uncomfortable position on the floor. They moved to the bedside where y/n's grandmother lay, connected to various monitors and tubes. Without hesitation, y/n settled onto the edge of the bed, taking her grandmother's frail hand in hers. Kaz found a seat nearby, uncertain of his role in this deeply personal moment.

"Oh, um, they gave me your glasses," Kaz spoke up awkwardly, breaking the silence. "Didn't know you needed them."

Y/n accepted the glasses with a small smile, sliding them on with a playful comment that briefly lifted the weight in the room. "You look cuter when I can't see," she teased softly, her attempt at levity amid the somber atmosphere.

He chuckled softly, appreciating her effort to lighten the mood even in such circumstances. The afternoon faded into evening, and then night descended, their vigil by her grandmother's side continuing steadfastly. Kaz had no inclination to leave; his presence here, he hoped, offered some measure of comfort to y/n in her time of need.

"Kaz, if you want to go—" y/n began, her voice hesitant.

"I'm staying," he interrupted softly but firmly, meeting her eyes with unwavering determination.

"Thank you," she whispered gratefully, her words carrying a depth of emotion that words alone couldn't convey.

After the most uncomfortable sleep of their lives, a doctor awakened them, informing y/n that they were ready to try and wake up her grandmother by disconnecting some of the machines. Slowly, the elderly woman regained consciousness, and both y/n and Kaz released a collective breath of relief.

"Kitty?" Alice's voice was weak yet filled with recognition as she scanned the room for her niece.

"Hi, Grandma. How are you feeling?" y/n gently disentangled herself from Kaz's embrace and moved closer to the bed.

"Light," Alice replied softly, her eyes stopping on Kaz, curiosity evident in her gaze.

“I told you a thousand times not to play poker anymore,” y/n scolded Alice, a mix of exasperation and affection in her tone.

“Oh, Kitty, I was winning. I couldn't back out,” Alice chuckled weakly, attempting to lighten the mood. “You're unbelievable,” y/n shook her head fondly.

“Can we go now? I'm feeling pretty good,” Alice asked hopefully.

Kaz couldn't help but snort at y/n's reaction. “No, we can't. You had a heart attack! You have to stay here.”

“When was the last time you showered?” Alice teased gently.

“That's not relevant,” y/n retorted playfully.

“Who's watering my plants?” Alice asked, genuine concern in her voice.

“Your plants? You almost died!”

“My plants are going to die!” Alice insisted stubbornly.

Y/n laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't believe you.”

The conversation between Alice and y/n continued, filled with lighthearted banter and genuine concern, leaving Kaz feeling like a spectator in their intimate family dynamic. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, unsure of how to contribute to their exchange.

“How much Botox did you get? Your forehead is frozen!” Alice suddenly remarked, shifting her attention to y/n with a teasing tone.

“Sick, right?” y/n tried to furrow her brow to demonstrate, but it remained stubbornly smooth. “It's weird, Kitty,” she scoffed.

Alice turned to Kaz with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Do you like this look?”

Kaz hesitated, feeling slightly put on the spot. “It's, uh, a bit unsettling.”

"See, Kitty? Even this boy you still haven't introduced thinks it's weird. You just turned 18 for Ghazen's sake,” Alice teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Kaz, caught off guard, took a sip of y/n's vape and nearly choked at the unexpected revelation. “You just what?”

“It was her birthday last month,” Alice explained casually, her tone implying this was no big deal, but her raised eyebrow at Kaz's surprise said otherwise.

“You're a minor?” Kaz turned to y/n, his disbelief palpable.

“Well, not anymore,” y/n shrugged nonchalantly, as if revealing the weather forecast. “Did I forget to tell you?”

Kaz was certain his face mirrored the shock he felt. His mind raced, trying to grasp the implications. He glanced at Alice, then back at y/n, feeling like he was missing something crucial.

"A minor?" Kaz repeated dumbfoundedly, trying to process the information. "And you didn't think this was worth mentioning?"

Y/n let out a laugh, seeing Kaz's stunned reaction. "Relax, Kaz. I've been legal for a whole month now."

Kaz rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Alice, enjoying the banter, chimed in again. "You look a bit pale, dear."

"Yeah?" Kaz replied in a weirdly high voice, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he had been unknowingly involved with someone who had just barely reached adulthood. "I thought... I thought you were older."

Y/n couldn't resist teasing Kaz a little more. With a mischievous smirk, she leaned closer. "Age is just a number, Kaz."

Kaz shook his head, feeling like he had just stepped into a comedy of errors. "I need a moment," he muttered, mostly to himself, as he rubbed his temples.

Alice, ever the comforting presence, patted his arm sympathetically. "Take your time, boy. You're handling it well," she said with a twinkle in her eye, clearly amused by the situation.

Kaz let out a nervous laugh, his tension palpable. "Age is not just a number if you’re a minor, y/n," he retorted, his voice betraying a mix of disbelief and mild panic. "This is serious."

Y/n shrugged casually, her playful smile widening. "Why? What's the big deal?"

Kaz stared at her incredulously, feeling like he had just stumbled into a bizarre alternate reality. "You're asking why?" He shook his head, unable to contain a nervous chuckle.

Kaz was sure that he was the one about having an heart attack and would need Alice to leave some machines even for him.

The woman exchanged a bewildered glance with y/n, both of them bursting into laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

“I wish I had a picture of the face you made, love. I didn't just turn 18. Relax,” y/n teased affectionately.

“You're going to be the death of me,” Kaz sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with a mixture of amusement and relief.

“Who are you, boy?” Alice redirected her attention to Kaz, extending her hand in greeting.

“He's a friend, Grandma,” y/n answered warmly.

“Kaz Brekker, my pleasure, Miss or, well, Mrs?” Kaz replied politely, shaking Alice's hand in his gloved one.

“Alice is fine,” the woman replied with a gentle smile, studying Kaz's gloves intently.

“Are you cold?” Alice inquired, her concern evident.

“Kind of,” Kaz said, unsure of how to explain the presence of his gloves.

Alice hummed thoughtfully, her eyes lingering on Kaz for a moment longer. “Are you eating, kitty?”

“Are you?” y/n interjected playfully, teasing Alice back.

“Come on, Kitty, go to my house, check on the plants, and get a shower. You,” Alice turned towards Kaz, her expression serious yet caring, “convince her.”

Kaz's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by Alice's directness. He quickly composed himself. “Yeah, we can go and be back in no time. I'm sure they have to run a few more exams anyway.”

“Fine,” y/n acquiesced reluctantly, glancing at Kaz for reassurance.

Kaz nodded reassuringly, offering her a small smile.

Reluctantly, they left the hospital, making their way to Alice’s house. The cozy home was exactly as someone would imagine a grandma’s house: a haven of warmth and comfort, filled with knick-knacks, and the faint scent of lavender.

"Do you want to see her plants?" Y/n asked with a smirk, leading Kaz to a door at the back of the house.

Kaz followed, curious. When Y/n opened the door, he was greeted by rows of lush, green plants. "That's—"

"Marijuana, yes," Y/n finished for him, her smirk widening.

Kaz's eyes widened in disbelief. "That's arrest-level marijuana."

Y/n shrugged, laughter bubbling up. "She says she's too old to be put in jail."

They both burst out laughing, the heaviness of the previous days dissolving in their shared amusement. For a moment, it was just the two of them, wrapped in the absurdity of the situation and the warmth of Alice's eccentricity.

After their laughter subsided, Y/n led Kaz back to the living room. The cozy space invited them to stay a while, and they settled onto the couch. Kaz sank into the soft cushions, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Y/n curled up beside him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“This place is really something,” Kaz said, looking around at the shelves lined with porcelain figurines and the walls adorned with y/n photos as a child.

Y/n nodded, her eyes following his gaze.

Kaz glanced down at her, seeing a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sounds coming from the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner and the noise from the street. Kaz felt his eyes grow heavy, the emotional toll of the past days catching up with him.

Y/n seemed to sense his weariness. “You should rest a bit before we head back to the hospital,” she suggested, her voice gentle.

Kaz nodded, too tired to argue. He leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Y/n shifted, lying down so her head was in his lap. He stroked her hair absentmindedly, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. Their fight seemed so far away he could even forget it happened.

They stayed like that for a while, dozing off in the quiet comfort of the living room. When Kaz awoke, the sun had shifted, casting a warm glow through the lace curtains. He glanced down at Y/n, who was still asleep, her breathing soft and even.

Yet, as he watched her, a familiar pang of uncertainty crept in. They were doing it again—blurring lines, complicating their emotions, and confusing themselves more and more. Despite the peace of the moment, he couldn't shake the realization that their relationship was a delicate dance of affection and conflict. The boundaries they tried to establish always seemed to blur, leaving them in a perpetual state of ambiguity.

He didn’t want to disturb her, but they needed to get back to the hospital.

“Y/n,” he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. “We should get going.”

She stirred, blinking up at him sleepily. “Mh?”

He smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Time to wake up, love.”

Y/n stretched, yawning. “Okay, let’s go.”

They both freshened up quickly, the refreshing showers revitalizing them. Kaz found himself feeling more human, more present. They changed into fresh clothes and made their way back to the hospital.

The drive back was quieter, but the atmosphere between them had lightened considerably. Kaz reached out and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing it gently. The simple touch was reassuring, a silent promise that he wouldn't leave her side.

“How have you been while I was away?” she asked, breaking the silence.

Kaz snorted, a self-deprecating smile playing on his lips. “Not good. I’m still a bit embarrassed by the things I told you while we were, you know.”

“Having sex, Kaz, you can say it,” Y/n replied, rolling her eyes. “And don’t worry, it was just the moment. I know you don’t mean any of it.”

“Well, not all of it,” he confessed, his voice softer.

Y/n turned to look at him with a small smile while he kept his eyes on the road, one hand caressing her thigh. The comfort and normalcy they felt were unsettling, a painful reminder of what they could have if circumstances were different.

“I like having you around, Y/n,” he added after a while. “I don’t care if you think that we’re going to mess this up. I mean, how could we mess it up more than it already is?”

“You have a girlfriend, Kaz,” she reminded him gently.

“Tell me to break up with her and I will,” he said, surprising even himself with the bold statement.

“It’s not my choice to make, and I still don’t want a relationship,” she said firmly.

He parked the car and sighed, leaning back in his seat. “Can we forget this for a while? At least until we’re here,” Kaz said, cupping one of her cheeks and pulling her towards him gently, giving her the space to back away if she wanted. Y/n let him guide her, their lips finally meeting in a tender kiss. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, and he hummed, satisfied.

“How did you—?” he began to ask when she suddenly straddled him, her laughter filling the car as she pressed her body against his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way under her shirt, tracing the smooth contours of her back.

“Do you want to do it?” she whispered in his ear, moving her hips slowly against him.

“Here?” he asked, not entirely opposed to the idea, though he was taken aback by the bold suggestion.

Before she could answer, a sharp knock on the car window startled them both. “Come on, lovebirds, knock it off,” a security guard said, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

Kaz turned an interesting shade of red, while Y/n laughed and opened the door, stepping out. “Sorry, got carried away a bit,” she said, batting her eyes at the guard.

“You’d be surprised how many people I have to interrupt. What is this thing with hospitals?” the man muttered to himself, shaking his head.

“Are you staying there?” he asked Kaz, who was still in the car, trying to gather his composure.

“Yeah, uh, I need—”

“Oh, for Ghezen’s sake, just don’t make me catch you again,” the guard said, walking away while shaking his head.

Kaz got out of the car, joining Y/n. They stood there for a moment, both a little flustered but also amused by the situation. “How can you never get embarrassed?” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/n chuckled, linking her arm with his. “I get embarrassed, just not for wanting to have sex. There’s nothing wrong about it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, shaking his head slightly but smiling.

They settled into Alice’s room, where she immediately put them to work on her crossword puzzles. “Kitty, get down from that poor guy. He’s not going to be able to feel his legs anymore,” Alice commented, noticing Y/n had made herself comfortable on Kaz’s lap.

“It’s fine,” Kaz said, peering over her shoulder at the puzzle.

“So, what’s the deal between you two?” Alice inquired, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

“We’re friends, I told you,” Y/n shrugged, her attention shifting to her phone where she was watching TikToks. “Oh, look at how cute this baby is,” she cooed, showing Kaz a video of a giggling infant.

Kaz made a face. “Babies are gross,” he muttered, eliciting a laugh from Y/n.

“Friends, huh?” Alice remarked slyly. “And did someone tell you that you’re only friends?”

“Grandma!” Y/n exclaimed.

“I’ll mind my own business,” Alice said, laughing to herself.

“See? Even she thinks we should try it,” Kaz whispered in Y/n’s ear, leaning back and making her lay more comfortably against his chest.

“Shut up and look at this cat,” Y/n retorted, showing him another TikTok.

Kaz chuckled, the warmth of their playful banter wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Despite the complexities of their relationship, moments like these made everything else fade into the background.

Every now and then, Y/n would shift, adjusting her position on Kaz's lap, and he would wrap his arms around her more securely. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, their interactions natural and effortless.

That night, Y/n fell asleep in one of the chairs outside Alice’s room, her head resting uncomfortably against the wall. Kaz, however, was too restless to sleep. The hospital chair dug into his back, and the sterile lights made it impossible to find any real comfort. Around 3 a.m., he noticed movement from Alice’s room and saw her trying to sneak out. He raised a brow, his curiosity piqued.

Alice caught his eye and then glanced at her sleeping niece. “Come on, let’s go take some fresh air,” she whispered.

“Alice, I don’t think you should—”

“I’m going. Will you explain to her why you left me alone, or should I?” Alice shot back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz sighed. Was being annoyingly stubborn a genetic trait? He stood up and followed her as they made their way to a door that led to a balcony. “It’s locked,” Kaz commented, testing the handle.

“Then open it, boy,” Alice sighed, clearly unimpressed.

Kaz debated whether to comply, but he realized she’d probably find another way to escape. Better to accompany her than let her wander off alone. He quickly picked the lock, and they stepped outside into the cool night air.

“I saw you kissing earlier,” Alice said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um,” Kaz stammered, caught off guard.

“You know, Kitty is really good at telling lies—especially to herself,” Alice remarked, her voice softening. “It’s complicated,” he whispered, the weight of the situation pressing down on him.

“Where’s the fun if it’s not?” she replied, studying him intently. “Are you in love with her?”

Kaz hesitated, the unexpected question throwing him off balance. He struggled to find the right words.

“She’s going to get scared and push you away,” Alice continued, sensing his turmoil.

“She already did,” he admitted. “We weren’t talking to each other before I got here.”

Kaz thought about the past few days, his phone having been off since he arrived. Inej and Jesper were probably worried sick. For a moment, he was tempted to turn it on, but he knew that doing so would mean facing a barrage of messages and difficult conversations. What was one more day?

Alice sighed, leaning against the balcony railing. “You know, life is too short to waste on complications. Sometimes you just have to take the leap, no matter how scary it is.”

Kaz nodded, her words resonating deeply within him. He looked out at the city lights, the quiet hum of the hospital a soothing backdrop to his chaotic thoughts. “You should say that to her too.”

Alice smiled gently. “You have to be honest with yourself first. Can you accept her job?”

The million-kruge-question. Kaz felt a knot tighten in his stomach. He hesitated, then decided to ask, “How did you accept it?”

Alice chuckled softly, reminiscing. “Oh, it wasn’t easy. Nearly gave me a heart attack when she told me about her decision. But she’s comfortable with it, assures me that she’s safe, and she sends me her check-ups every month.”

Kaz nodded, appreciating Alice’s candidness. Trying to lighten the mood, he added, “Oh yeah, she always uses protection.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself internally. Why would he say something like that to her grandma?

Alice raised a brow, her amusement evident. “And how do you know that, boy?”

Kaz cleared his throat, attempting to sound convincing. “She… told me.”

The woman chuckled, clearly not believing him. “If you want her, don’t let her take control. Steer her your way, guide her to you, small steps. Don’t ask her to make a decision suddenly, she’s going to run away.”

Kaz nodded, absorbing her advice. He stared at the view, the city lights blurring as his mind raced. Alice's words swirled in his head, mingling with his fears and hopes. Here he was, taking relationship advice from Y/n’s grandmother, while still technically in a relationship himself.

They stood in silence for a while, the cool night air wrapping around them. Alice patted his arm. “Remember, Kaz. Patience and persistence. If you truly care for her, show her that you’re willing to be there, no matter how complicated things get.”

Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety swirling within him. “I have a girlfriend,” he blurted out suddenly, the words escaping before he could stop them.

Alice didn’t seem perturbed by his confession. She regarded him calmly, her eyes soft with understanding. “And Y/n doesn’t want a serious relationship,” he added hastily, his mouth seemingly disconnected from his brain, which was screaming at him to shut up.

Alice remained composed, her expression unchanged. She took a moment before responding, her voice gentle yet firm. “Feelings evolve, circumstances change,” she said, her words carrying the weight of experience. “If it’s meant to be, then it will be. If it’s not, then it won’t. Don’t force things, with neither of them.”

Kaz nodded slowly, grateful for Alice’s wisdom even as he struggled to reconcile his emotions. Her words echoed the doubts and fears he had been grappling with—about relationships, about his own desires, about the uncertainties of the future.

“Trust in the journey, Kaz,” Alice continued, her tone reassuring. “Sometimes, the best thing we can do is allow things to unfold naturally, without trying to control the outcome.”

Kaz took a deep breath, absorbing her advice. It was both comforting and challenging—to relinquish control, to trust in the unknown. But he knew deep down that Alice was right. He couldn’t force Y/n into something she wasn’t ready for, and he couldn’t ignore the truth of his own heart.

“Let’s get back inside before they send a search party.”

Back in the waiting room, Y/n was still asleep, curled up in the chair. Kaz carefully adjusted her position, ensuring she was comfortable. Alice gave him a knowing look before settling back into her bed.

Days went by, and they spent them in a routine that became surprisingly comforting. They moved between Alice’s room, her house, and the hospital cafeteria, finding solace in each other’s company amidst the uncertainty. Alice underwent various exams, and while they waited, Kaz and Y/n often found themselves outside in the uncomfortable chairs, trying to pass the time.

One afternoon, Y/n was engrossed in one of her fairy porn books, the kind that always made Kaz raise an eyebrow. After a while, he couldn’t help but ask, “How can you read these things?”

Y/n glanced up, a mischievous glint in her eye. “It’s fun.”

Kaz shook his head, feigning disbelief. “It’s weird.”

“Then don’t read them,” she retorted, turning a page.

“I want to know how it ends,” he admitted, a small smile tugging at his lips.

She turned to him with a smile, the playful banter lightening the heavy atmosphere. He felt a sudden urge to kiss her, to bridge the small gap between them, but he hesitated, the complexities of their situation weighing on him. Before he could second-guess himself further, Y/n leaned in and left a small, soft kiss on his lips, then casually went back to her book as if nothing had happened.

Kaz’s heart raced, the simple gesture leaving him both elated and confused. The kiss was brief but charged with unspoken emotion, a silent acknowledgment of their growing bond. He watched her for a moment, her focus seemingly back on her book, but he knew she felt it too—the undeniable connection between them.

They continued to spend their days like this, finding comfort in their shared moments despite the complications looming over them. Kaz couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be with Y/n, how her presence made the hospital’s sterile environment feel almost homely. They laughed together, shared meals, and sometimes just sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts yet deeply aware of the other’s presence.

***

Finally, Alice was cleared to go home. Despite their protests, she insisted on calling a friend to take her, wanting to give Kaz and Y/n some space. As she left, she gave them a knowing smile and a gentle reminder to cherish their time together.

Kaz and Y/n were sitting in his car, the engine idling softly. Kaz had only one thing on his mind, the thought he had been forcing himself to ignore for days: Now what?

“I still have a few days off work,” he said, glancing at her and waiting for her reaction.

“So?” she replied, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, a playful challenge in her eyes.

Yeah, he thought, so?

He started driving, letting her put on some music. The familiar tunes filled the car, creating a comfortable backdrop to their thoughts. Every now and then, Y/n would lean towards him to let him take a drag from her vape, the small, intimate gesture deepening their silent connection.

“Where are we going?” she asked after a while, looking around curiously as the scenery shifted from urban to suburban.

“Supermarket,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why?” she laughed, surprised by the sudden change in plans.

“You’re making dinner,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Am I now?” she teased, her laughter infectious.

“Yep,” he affirmed, his tone light but his eyes serious.

They arrived at the supermarket, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over the parking lot. Inside, they wandered through the aisles, the mundane task of grocery shopping feeling strangely intimate. Kaz watched as Y/n picked out ingredients, her movements confident and assured. He found himself drawn to her even more, captivated by the ease with which she moved through life, her independence and strength shining through in these simple moments.

“Please, Kaz, let me do it,” Y/n kept begging in his ear, her tone a mix of playful and insistent. She nipped at his earlobe, her breath warm against his skin.

“I don’t want to,” he laughed nervously, though the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to touch her.

“Come on, I swear I’m really good,” she teased, her lips brushing against his ear, sending shivers down his spine. Her words hung in the air, filled with a promise that made his pulse quicken.

“I have absolutely no doubts about that,” he responded, his voice a little breathless. The room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Y/n got on her knees in front of him while he was seated on the couch, her eyes wide and pleading. The sight of her there, looking up at him with such intensity, made his heart race. “Please.”

“You’re not ashamed of anything, are you?” he asked, half in awe, half in disbelief. He could barely comprehend her boldness, so different from the guarded world he was used to.

“Absolutely not,” she replied confidently. Her hands rested lightly on his knees, her touch sending electric sparks through his body.

Kaz made a crooked smile, giving in just a little, pulling her back up on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “I prefer you up here,” he murmured against her lips, his hands tracing the curve of her back, memorizing every contour.

“Only because you don’t know how good I am down there,” she said playfully, arching her neck to give him better access for a kiss. Her lips met his with a softness that made him forget everything else, the world outside their bubble disappearing.

Her words lingered in his mind, tempting and daring him to let go of his reservations. He deepened the kiss, his hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer as if afraid she might vanish. The taste of her, the feel of her, was intoxicating, making it hard to think clearly.

For a moment, all he could think about was her – the way she felt in his arms, the sound of her breath mingling with his. The rational part of his mind screamed at him to stop, to remember the complications and the consequences, but he silenced it, letting himself get lost in the moment.

The sudden sound of the door opening shattered their intimacy. They barely had time to react before Jesper burst in, anger and worry evident in his voice. “Kaz! Where the fuck have you been?”

Kaz and Y/n froze, their faces reflecting the guilt of being caught so red-handed. They knew there was no point in trying to move away from each other. Jesper’s eyes widened further as he registered her presence in Kaz's living room, his shock palpable. “Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?” he blurted out, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.

“You disappeared for fucking days! I can’t believe you’re with her,” Jesper said in disbelief. “Inej is worried sick, Kaz, and so was I.”

Y/n moved off Kaz’s lap, letting him stand up. Kaz faced Jesper, trying to maintain his composure. “I was in Lij. I had a family thing to fix,” he said confidently. “I just got back.”

Jesper shook his head, incredulous. “And the first person you tell is obviously her? Not your friends, not your girlfriend?” he shot back, his voice dripping with accusation. He glanced between Kaz and Y/n, confusion etched on his face.

Kaz hesitated, caught off guard by Jesper’s directness. Y/n shifted uncomfortably under Jesper’s scrutinizing gaze, unsure of how to explain her presence without making matters worse.

“I…” Kaz started, searching for an explanation that wouldn’t betray the complexities of their situation.

Jesper’s frustration grew, his disbelief evident. “You were just what? Kaz, what the hell is going on here?” he demanded, his tone cutting through the tense silence.

“I didn’t think you’d be so worried, and I haven’t talked to Inej in days. She asked for space, and I gave it to her,” Kaz explained, though it was clear Jesper wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I can go if you have to talk,” Y/n offered gently, trying to defuse the situation. Jesper glared at her, but Kaz spoke first, “No, don’t worry.”

“Of course, Y/n, don’t worry. So as soon as I leave, he can keep cheating on his girlfriend,” Jesper said harshly. “Or wasn’t that what I just interrupted? Are you sleeping together?”

“No, Jesper. It was… just a kiss,” Kaz lied, his voice strained.

“Oh, then everything is alright, just a kiss. Where’s the line, Kaz?” Jesper’s sarcasm was palpable.

“It’s none of your business, Jes,” Kaz said, his patience wearing thin.

“It is if you’re hurting my friend.”

Kaz inhaled deeply, trying to steady himself. “You want to know what happened with Inej?” he asked, releasing a nervous chuckle. “She said that she was with me because she thought I would never be able to touch her.”

Jesper’s surprise was evident, his anger momentarily replaced by shock. “Yeah, I bet she didn’t tell you that,” Kaz said more quietly, shaking his head.

“That’s fucked up, but it still doesn’t give you the right to cheat on her,” Jesper retorted, though his voice was less confident now.

“I’m not even sure if we’re still together anymore,” Kaz confessed.

“Look, I’m sorry, Kaz, but you can’t behave like this,” Jesper said, his tone softening.

“I need a drink,” Kaz sighed, moving towards the kitchen. He made three drinks and brought them back, handing one to Jesper and another to Y/n.

The three of them sat uncomfortably on the couch, sipping their drinks in silence. The atmosphere was heavy with unresolved tension, each sip of their drinks punctuated by the awkwardness that filled the room. Jesper’s eyes darted between Kaz and Y/n, his expression a mix of concern and confusion. He couldn’t help but notice how she had curled up next to Kaz, her body instinctively seeking comfort in his presence despite the situation. Kaz, for his part, seemed lost in thought, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair as he stared blankly at the wall.

Y/n shifted slightly, feeling Jesper’s gaze on her.

“Oh, you have a lash on your cheek,” Y/n said, her voice a tentative attempt to lighten the heavy atmosphere that hung around them. She reached out, her touch gentle as she plucked the lash away from Kaz’s cheek. “Make a wish,” she instructed softly, holding it delicately on her fingertip.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips despite the tension in the room. “Come on, it’s bad luck if you don’t,” Y/n insisted, a small smile tugging at her own lips.

He leaned in unexpectedly, catching her off guard by biting her finger lightly instead of making a wish. Y/n let out a surprised laugh, pulling her hand back instinctively. Kaz’s arm slid around her waist, drawing her close against his side, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes about their connection.

Jesper watched the exchange with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment. His brow furrowed slightly as he tried to process the dynamics unfolding before him. Despite the tension and the serious conversation that had preceded this moment, Kaz and Y/n seemed to share a natural ease with each other, a comfort that was palpable even in the midst of their turmoil.

“That was uncalled for,” Y/n chuckled, trying to regain her composure after Kaz’s unexpected move.

Her phone started buzzing, and she excused herself to another room to take the call. Jesper watched her leave before turning back to Kaz.

“You know what really makes me mad?” Jesper asked, breaking the silence. “It’s that you two look really good together.”

Kaz nodded, a small, bittersweet smile forming on his lips. Despite everything, he knew there wasn’t going to be a ‘them.’

Kaz sighed heavily, he knew there was no hiding it now, not after Jesper had caught them in such compromising proximity.

“Give her a chance, Jes,” Kaz pleaded, his voice carrying a mixture of regret and earnestness. “Me and Inej… I won’t be able to patch things up after what she told me.” His words trailed off, the pain of Inej’s revelation still fresh in his mind. “And Y/n is not the one to blame,” he added quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I was the one in a relationship, not her.”

Jesper’s expression hardened, a mix of disappointment and understanding crossing his features. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation. “I don't like her.”

“You don't like her or you don't like how I handled things?” Kaz asked, his voice tinged with a desperate need for clarity.

Jesper looked at him, the tension between them palpable. “Yeah, maybe I don't like you,” he said, trying to lighten the mood but failing to hide the seriousness in his tone. “But in all honesty, Kaz, it's more about how you handled things. You should have been honest with Inej from the start.”

Kaz nodded, his face reflecting the inner turmoil he felt. “I know, Jes. I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. I have no idea of when the things started to become different.”

Jesper sighed deeply, his frustration evident. “It’s always complicated with you, Kaz. But this...this is different.”

Kaz looked up, meeting Jesper’s gaze with a mixture of determination and guilt. “I never wanted to hurt anyone, Jes. Inej...what she told me. I was wrong to let things go this far without addressing it.”

Jesper’s expression softened slightly, though his frustration remained. “You owe it to both of them to be honest about your feelings and your intentions.”

Kaz nodded, his jaw clenched as he wrestled with the ramifications of his actions. “I know, and I will. But Y/n...she’s not just a fling, Jes. She means something to me.”

Jesper’s eyes widened in surprise. “So, you’re saying you have feelings for her?”

Kaz hesitated, the admission feeling heavier than he anticipated. “Yes, I do. But I also know that she’s not looking for a serious relationship. It’s complicated.”

Jesper shook his head, a mixture of disbelief and resignation on his face. “Complicated seems to be your specialty, Kaz. But you need to sort this out. You can’t keep stringing them along, it’s not fair to anyone.”

Kaz sighed, the weight of Jesper’s words settling heavily on him. “I know. I need to talk to Inej and figure out where we stand.”

Jesper nodded, his expression still stern but softened by a hint of empathy. “Good. Because if you care about them, you owe it to them to be truthful. And to yourself too.”

Kaz looked at Jesper, gratitude and guilt mingling in his eyes. “Thanks, Jes. I appreciate it.”

Jesper nodded, his tension easing slightly. “Just...don’t make a habit of this, Kaz. You’re a smart guy, but sometimes you’re your own worst enemy.”

Kaz chuckled, though the sound was tinged with sadness. “You’re not wrong about that.”

They fell into an uneasy silence, the weight of the conversation lingering in the air. Kaz knew he had a long road ahead to make things right, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way through the mess he had created.

After Jesper left, the air in the room felt thick with the residue of their intense conversation. Kaz and Y/n settled back on the couch, the tension slowly ebbing away.

“Kaz, if you want me to go,” she began, her eyes searching his, filled with concern and uncertainty.

“Stay,” he replied firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

“Can we go to bed? I'm starting to feel all those nights on the hospital chairs,” she sighed, stretching her arms and stifling a yawn.

Kaz nodded, and they made their way to his bedroom. The act of changing clothes and sliding into bed felt almost ritualistic, a comforting routine in the midst of their emotional chaos. They lay on their sides, facing each other, the intimacy of the moment both soothing and unsettling.

“I have to work tomorrow,” Y/n said gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything interesting?” Kaz asked, his fingers tracing small patterns on the sheet between them.

“Nah,” she replied, shaking her head slightly.

Kaz pulled her closer, the need for physical closeness overpowering his usual reluctance. Her warmth seeped into him, grounding him in the moment.

“How do you feel?” she asked softly, her fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture.

“Overwhelmed,” he sighed, leaning into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the comfort she offered.

“Is there something I can do?” she asked, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“Can you break up with my girlfriend?” he chuckled dryly, a hint of bitterness lacing his words.

Y/n hesitated, the gravity of his statement sinking in. “You’ve decided to do it?” she asked, her voice cautious.

“Yes, I have to,” he admitted, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of determination and regret. “It's the only way to move forward. I can’t keep living like this, hurting everyone involved.”

She nodded, understanding the weight of his decision. “It’s not going to be easy.”

“I know,” Kaz replied, his voice firm. “But it’s the right thing to do.”

They lay in silence for a while, the quiet punctuated by the soft sound of their breathing. Kaz’s mind raced with thoughts of how to approach Inej, how to explain everything without causing more pain. He knew it would be a delicate conversation, one fraught with emotion and complexity. But he also knew it was necessary.

“And then what?” Y/n asked, her voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence.

“You know what I want,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers with a mixture of hope and vulnerability.

“I can’t give you that right now,” she said softly, her gaze steady but tinged with regret.

“I’ll take what you can,” Kaz replied, his tone resolute.

“It’s not fair, Kaz.”

“You told me you’re not a nice person,” he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Are you going to start now?”

She sighed, feeling the weight of his words.

“I tried to have the perfect relationship,” he continued, his voice tinged with bitterness and resignation. “It blew up in my face. So whatever mess you’re down for, I’m in.”

She looked at him, seeing the raw honesty in his eyes. The Kaz she knew was always calculating, always had a plan. But here he was, laying his heart bare, willing to dive into the unknown with her.

“Kaz, I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

“I know,” he replied, his thumb brushing gently across her cheek. “And I don’t want to hurt you. But we’re already in this. We can’t pretend it’s not happening.”

Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The logical part of her knew he was right, but her emotions were a tangled web of fear, desire, and uncertainty.

“No expectations, no promises.” she said, opening her eyes to meet his gaze.

Kaz nodded, his expression softening.

They stayed like that for a while, holding each other in the dark of the room. The enormity of the decisions they were making weighed heavily on them. Despite the gravity of their situation, the warmth of their closeness offered a fleeting sense of peace.

y/n kept shifting, pressing her back on his chest, restless. “Fuck, I was so horny. Damn Jesper,” she whispered, annoyance tinging her voice.

Kaz snorted, grateful for the lightness she brought into the moment. “Yeah, this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our evening.”

“Mh, let me hear what you were thinking about,” she teased, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Kaz smirked, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her stomach. “Well, for starters, I didn’t plan on being interrupted,” he said, his voice low and intimate.

“Go on,” she encouraged, her interest piqued.

“I imagined us taking our time. Maybe having a few drinks, and then...” he trailed off, his eyes darkening with desire as he recalled the thoughts that had been running through his mind.

“And then?” she prompted, her breath hitching slightly as his words stirred something deep within her.

“And then, we’d end up back here,” he continued, his voice husky. “But instead of talking about all this heavy stuff, we’d be... exploring each other. Slowly, thoroughly.”

Y/n’s eyes sparkled with anticipation, pressing more into him. “Sounds like a good plan.”

Kaz chuckled softly, his lips brushing against her neck. “Yeah, but there’s always tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

“Tomorrow? How am I going to sleep now?” she protested, a playful whine in her voice.

Kaz's chuckle deepened, his breath warm against her skin. “Well, maybe there’s something we could do,” he suggested, his hips pressing on her ass. Y/n shivered at his touch, her body responding eagerly to his nearness.

“I like it when you’re not shy,” she whispered, her voice filled with anticipation.

“It’s all your fault. You make me forget how to think,” he said between kisses on her neck. His hand made its way between her legs, eliciting a soft moan from her. “How can you be so wet?” he hummed in satisfaction.

“I like dirty talking,” she admitted, her breath hitching as his fingers teased her.

“I barely said anything,” he laughed, clearly pleased with her response.

“I like you telling me finally what you want,” she clarified, her eyes half-closed in pleasure.

He started moving his hand and his hips, slowly teasing her, building the tension. “I know what you’re thinking, love,” she said after a while, her voice a mix of desire and amusement. “The answer is no.”

Kaz hummed, clearly annoyed. “But it would be so easy to just slip it in,” he murmured, his voice low and tempting.

“Look at you, having sex twice and already asking to do it without protection. You’re such a man,” she said with a small laugh, though her own need was evident.

“You’re on birth control,” he whined weakly, his voice almost a plea. “Please, love.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. “I just want to feel you, all of you.”

Y/n sighed, her resolve wavering but not yet broken. “Kaz,-” She arched her back, a soft hum escaping her lips. The way he moved against her, the feel of his fingers inside her, was making it hard to refuse.

“Please, Y/n. I need you.” he whispered, his voice tinged with desperation.

“Begging, Kaz? Really?” Her tone teasing.

“You'll make me shameless as you are, I don’t care about anything else right now. Please, just this once. Let me have all of you.”

“Fine,” she finally whispered, her resolve melting away.

Kaz didn't need any further encouragement. He shifted, aligning himself with her, and slowly, carefully, he pushed inside her. The sensation was overwhelming, raw, and intimate. They moved together in a rhythm that was both desperate and tender.

Her moans were mingling with his groans. The intensity of their passion was almost too much to bear, every touch, every kiss, driving them closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel amazing,” Kaz breathed, his lips brushing against her ear. His voice was ragged, filled with raw desire.

“Baby, let me lay on my stomach,” Y/n urged, her body arching against his in anticipation. She moved to change positions, her eyes locking onto his. “Do you want it sweet or rough?” she asked with a grin, her tone playful yet seductive.

Kaz stood puzzled by the question, the familiar embarrassment regarding his inexperience creeping in. He hesitated, unsure how to respond, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“Sweet it is,” she decided, sensing his discomfort and wanting to ease his tension. She lay down, raising her hips invitingly. “Come here, lay on me,” she encouraged, her voice soft and reassuring.

Kaz followed her lead, positioning himself over her, his body pressing against hers. Y/n guided his hand to her lower abdomen, her touch gentle yet firm. “Now take this hand, and press here,” she instructed, her voice a mix of authority and affection.

He did as she said, pressing his hand where she indicated, feeling the tautness of her muscles beneath his palm. “Move,” she instructed him, her voice breathy with anticipation.

Kaz began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ignited with pleasure. He could feel himself going deeper, the pressure of his hand adding a new dimension to their intimacy. The feeling of being so connected, of feeling himself under his hand, was almost too much to bear.

Kaz hissed against her hair, his breath hot and uneven. “Oh, I’m not going to last, love,” he admitted, his voice strained with the intensity of his desire.

Y/n turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice a soothing balm to his frazzled nerves. “Just let go.”

Encouraged by her words, Kaz allowed himself to lose control, his movements becoming more urgent. Each thrust was a declaration of his need for her, his desire to be as close as possible. Y/n’s soft moans spurred him on, her body responding to his every touch.

Their connection deepened with each passing moment, the world outside their embrace fading away. It was just them, lost in the rhythm of their shared pleasure. Kaz’s hand pressed firmly against her abdomen, grounding him in the here and now, his other hand tangled in her hair.

“Y/n,” he groaned, his voice a mix of desperation and ecstasy. “I'm so close”

“Let go, Kaz,” she urged, her own voice tinged with urgency.

With a final thrust, Kaz obeyed, his release crashing over him like a tidal wave. He buried his face in her hair, his body trembling with the force of his climax, her own pleasure evident in the way she tightened around him, her breathy moans music to his ears.

They lay like that for a while, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. The enormity of their connection, the intensity of their shared experience, left them both breathless and satisfied.

As they slowly came down from their high, Kaz pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder, lingering as if to imprint the moment in his memory. Y/n shifted to look at him, her eyes soft and filled with affection, studying his face. There was a tenderness in her gaze, a silent communication that passed between them.

“Don’t say it, Kaz. It’s not true,” she murmured, her voice gentle but firm.

He sighed, slightly embarrassed. “Was it so evident?”

“Yes,” she replied with a soft smile, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between his burgeoning feelings and the reality of their situation.

He nodded, appreciating her understanding. The vulnerability he felt in her presence was both terrifying and liberating. She had a way of seeing through his walls, of touching the parts of him he kept hidden from the world.

“Are you going to be able to sleep now?” he asked, his voice teasing as he tried to lighten the mood.

“Yes,” she replied, snuggling closer to him. Her body fit perfectly against his, a warm and reassuring presence. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

Kaz wrapped his arms around her, pulling her even closer. The comfort of her weight against him, the softness of her skin, it all felt so right. “Good,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the top of her head.

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker x fem!reader #kaz brekker fluff #soc #kaz brekker x you #six of crows #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker angst #kaz brekker imagine

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strawberryblue-blog · 1 year ago

Text

Baby blue love —Mason Mount

warning: none

words: +2.5k

summary: being there for Mason at his most difficult time

#sexynote: English is not my first language, maybe there are mistakes.

An exhausted sigh escaped the young man's lips as you walked through the house carrying the laundry basket. From behind you saw his defeated back as his hands covered his face in disappointment.

"Is everything okay?" you asked putting the clothes in the washing machine. Mason sighed again.

"Mason" you called out to him when he didn't respond. From his spot, Mason turned his face slightly to look at you.

His eyes were glazed over and his smile drooped.

He had been like this for a few days, depressed and sad about his departure from the club. But even though you tried to cheer him up, Mason ended up ignoring you and regretting his decisions.

"Mason..." you repeated again as you sat down next to him, your hand stroking his back gently.

"Everyone hates me" he whispered in anguish.

In front of his eyes was his instagram profile, precisely the last video he had posted only a day ago.

"It's not true" you denied waving your hand to comfort him.

"Yes they do, just watch what they say" he noted. A gasp came out of his mouth, he was frustrated, sad and disappointed. "Not even the official confirmation came out and everyone already knows, they hate me."

Yes, it was hard what he was going through and you understood it perfectly.

At least a month ago the rumor that Mason would be leaving Chelsea had been much talked about by fans of the club or those close to it, especially because there was a supposed proposal from Manchester United.

After 18 years at the club of his beginnings, Mason Mount would no longer be a player in blue and it was driving him crazy.

"Stop that" you grumbled when he kept scrolling down the publication, taking his phone out of his hands to turn it off. Your boyfriend snorted stretching his body out on the couch.

Raw silence broached them. Mason wasn't saying a word from that point on and you were leaving him, as you didn't want to pressure him to talk let alone make him feel like he had to explain himself.

"You hate me, don't you?" he asked dejectedly. The question caught you off guard for a moment.

"No," you muttered. "Why would I, Mason?"

"Because I ruined everything."

"That's not true," you denied. You knew perfectly well what this conversation was coming to and you were ready to face it. "For wanting to move on?" you asked. "For wanting to have another chance?"

He lifted his shoulders expressionlessly. You weren't going to lie, the news that Mason would be leaving had affected you more than you thought it would. You had always been a Chelsea fan, thanks to your father, a huge Blues fan. And on one of your many visits to the stadium, you had met Mason at Stamford Bridge when you had volunteered to work one afternoon. The thought of not going to support him at the stadium anymore, not seeing him celebrate with his teammates and family, seeing him ready to play before every game. Nostalgia ran through your mind as you thought of him and wanted to support him every step of the way.

"It's okay, honey" you took him in your arms. Mason sobbed as he felt your warm embrace. "You haven't done anything wrong" you said.

"I've been an idiot these days, I don't understand how you're still here" he said. You could feel the pain in his body, in his voice, in his eyes, in his mood.

Mason had always been a laughing boy, who laughed at everything and cheered everyone up in the worst moments but now he was a kid who had to make an important decision that would be a big step for his career. For his future. And of course you would accompany him, you would be by his side no matter what his decision was.

"Do you think it's okay what I'm doing?" he questioned taking your hands. You had not had this conversation since it had all started, as Mason was a bit shocked and somewhat distant.

"It is. It's the right thing to do because you deserve it" you muttered. "You deserve a team that will take advantage of your talent, respect you and help you grow. You deserve to play in the big leagues and succeed" you said sincerely.

And it hurt. It hurt to see your great love leave his lifelong team, the team that saw him grow and succeed. It hurt to know that he would no longer wear the blue jersey and that you would not go to the game with his jersey to cheer him on. But more than anyone else in the world you wanted Mason to move on and succeed because you knew he was a great player. Young and talented.

His hands grabbed your waist, pulling you close to him to place a soft kiss on your lips. Mason wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you to his chest.

He knew how much you supported him no matter what. Even though he was going to the opposing team or moving out of town. Because you had always supported him since you had known each other, in his bad times and good times, when he needed you and when you were there for him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, baby" he whispered nuzzling his nose with yours tenderly.

"I love you, Mason."

"Enough to wear a red t-shirt with my name on it?" he asked teasingly.

"No!" you squealed laughing. "You know i hate the color red."

Mason laughed nodding.

"But you don't hate it when I'm wearing it, do you?" he teased again with an amused expression. His lips touched yours delicately as a gasp escaped them as you felt Mason's hands take you from your waist until you sat on his lap.

"Nothing will ever change the love I feel for you, ever since the day I saw you in the rain at Stamford Bridge" he whispered through his smile. "From that day I knew I would love you forever, my baby blue love."

I'm late i know but I'm still not over Mason being gone 😭😭 I miss him so much 💔

#mason mount imagine #football imagines #football one shot #chelsea football club #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #manchester united #mason mount #imagine #strawberryblue blog

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babydollmarauders · 1 year ago

Text

MEAN — ALEX TURCOTTE

alex turcotte x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n opens up to Alex about the hate she’s been receiving from his fans

notes: not proofread! so sorry if it sucks!

y/nonthegram

liked by _alexturcotte, trevorzegras, and 7,297 others

y/nonthegram on a date and our waiter called me a bitch… anyone know what number i can call to complain?

tagged _alexturcotte and trevorzegras

user47 awww they went to dux in tux to support trevor!

_alexturcotte my girl 🖤

y/nonthegram my boy 🤍

user16 thank god she didn’t show her face

trevorzegras sorry, we don’t take complaints 🙅‍♂️ only compliments 💁‍♂️

y/nonthegram that feels very unprofessional

trevorzegras who ever said i was professional? 🤔

jackhughes my boys! looking dapper! and y/n!

y/nonthegram this is y/nphobic

jackhughes i acknowledged you, didn’t i?

y/nonthegram barely

colecaufield @/y/nonthegram i’ll acknowledge you! you look beautiful, y/n!

y/nonthegram @/colecaufield thank you! at least someone appreciates me!

user63 well… trevor wasn’t very far off

user77 have you ever even met her? she’s literally the nicest person ever

user21 she gives mean girl bitch vibes so idc

user98 impatiently waiting for him to dump her

user30 honestly, if he cheats on her on a roadie… would anyone really be upset?

user52 i know i wouldn’t! i think all of us are just praying on their downfall. like, he could do so much better

***

my eyes sting, locked to my phone screen. my hearing is muffled, drowning out the sound of my boyfriend and his best friend just feet away from me.

they sit on the coffee table in front of me, NHL 23 displayed on the tv. they shout curses at each other and the tv, trying their hardest to win for their respective teams on the video game. but my focus is solely on the comments of my most recent instagram post.

all i wanted to do was show off my boyfriend of five years. but his fans were being so mean.

it was nothing new. these comments happened on nearly every post i made. whether they were insulting my looks, or saying Alex deserved better, i could never please them.

usually, i only let myself look at the comments for a moment before deleting them altogether, but today was already a hard mental health day and these comments were hitting me where it hurts. i can’t help but dwell on them longer than usual. today they took my worst fear, and used it as a ‘what if?’ scenario, one of the meanest things they’ve ever done.

i sniffle, standing from the couch. shuffling quickly past my boyfriend, my head hanging low to try and hide my tears as i make my way to our bedroom, shutting myself in the darkened room, the only light being that of the setting california sun peeking through the curtains on the windows.

i crawl up our bed, burrowing myself in a cocoon of blankets and pillows, and turn my phone back on, scrolling through the comments once more. this time, i let my tears flow freely, silent sobs racking my body.

all the comments on my body, my insecurities and flaws, my relationship, even some accusing me of cheating on Alex with our friends. it’s one blow after another, each one cutting deeper than the last.

a loud cry escapes my lips and i clap a hand over my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut and holding my breath; praying to whatever higher power that Alex and Trevor didn’t overhear me from the living room.

my prayers go unanswered when our bedroom door creaks open, the light switch being flipped on, and two sets of footsteps enter the bedroom.

“hey, sweet girl.” i bury my head deeper under the blanket at the sound of my boyfriend’s voice. “you wanna show me that pretty face?”

his gentle tone brings even more tears to my eyes and despite knowing he can’t see me, i shake my head.

“y/n? are you okay?” Trevor asks softly. i feel them both sit on the bed as i hum out a ‘mhm’.

“you sure?” Trevor questions.

“why won’t you let us see you, then?” Alex asks. a hand finds my back, rubbing it soothingly, and the soft touch causes me to let out another cry. i hear some muffled whispering before someone rises from the bed.

“i’m gonna leave you guys to talk, i’ll see you tomorrow.” Trevor announces. “y/n, if you need me, just call and i’ll come right over.”

i hear his footsteps retreating, the bedroom door falling shut behind him before my boyfriend’s hand leaves my back, coming up on the blankets and pulling it down to reveal my tear stained face.

“hey, what wrong, baby?” his eyes are filled with worry, concern dripping from his words like honey. “why are you crying, sweet girl?”

“i’m fine.” i choke and he obviously sees straight through my lie.

“if you were fine, you wouldn’t be crying.” he shifts his body, moving to lay down next to me on the bed. his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me in close, and on instinct, i throw my thigh over his abdomen. his hand comes up to play with my hair, the tips of his fingers scratching my scalp in a calming manner.

“you wanna tell me what’s got my girl so upset?” he questions. he knows he has me in the palm of his hand. he knows exactly what to do to ease my mind and make me feel safe.

“comments.” i whisper into his chest, muttered by lips against his shirt.

“hmm?” he hums. my eyes flicker up to see his brows pulled down in confusion.

“instagram comments.” i clarify, sniffling and wiping at my nose with my hand. “some of your fans aren’t very nice.”

“wait what?” he asks. his hands pause their actions and he pulls my face back to look me in the eyes. “what are you talking about?”

“i didn’t wanna say anything. you love your fans and some of them are so sweet.” i sigh.

his expression is one of betrayal and disappointment. this is exactly why i kept this all from him. he loves his fans so much, i know he would never want to hear that some of them are so cruel.

“y/n, what are they saying?”

“just mean things. things i’d rather not repeat.” i unlock my phone, the screen still on the hate comments of my latest post, and hand it to him, letting him see them for himself.

“what the fuck?” he murmurs to himself. “why have i never seen these?”

“i usually delete them right away.” i confess. “i never wanted you to see them.”

“baby, you should’ve told me about these. these are cruel.” he scrolls through the comments, deleting every comment that isn’t necessarily considered nice.

“i know, but your fans make you so happy. i never wanted to take that from you.” i cry, burying my face in his chest.

“but you make me happier.” his hand rests on my head, the other rubbing my back. “you make me so much happier than they ever could.”

“it just hurts. it didn’t used to hurt this much, but after so long, the comments are getting to me.” i sob. “i just wanna feel okay again.”

“hey, you know nothing they said is true, right? you’re beautiful, and sweet, and the best thing to ever happen to me. you’re the smartest, most thoughtful, kindhearted, loving girl i’ve ever met. and i would never do anything to jeopardize what we have. i would never even think about even entertaining the idea of sleeping with anyone on a roadie, you know that, don’t you?”

i nod my head, sniffling. i raise my head to look at him, his eyes glassy as he wipes my tears.

“i love them, but i love you so much more. and they’re clearly not fans of mine if they think it’s okay to say shit like this about you, let alone to you.”

my insecurities get the best of me and i can’t help but question.

“you’re sure you’re not sick of me?” i whisper.

“you ever looked in my nightstand?” he asks, my eyebrows furrow in confusion and i shake my head.

“not recently, no.” i don’t understand his question, or what it has to do with mine.

he pushes me off of him, my heart sinking in my chest.

this is it.

he’s decided we’re done.

i don’t know what i’ll do without him.

he leans over his side of the bed, shuffling around in his nightstand drawer for a moment before turning back to me, something clasped in his hand.

“i had a more romantic plan, i swear i did. i had a whole speech planned, but my mom said that i should do this when it feels right. and now feels right.”

my eyes widen, my breath going shaky as i consider what he could possibly be meaning in this moment.

i sit up quickly in the bed, as he reveals a black ring box in his hands, opening it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring.

my hands rise shakily to my parted lips, more tears gathering in my eyes as they flicker between him and the ring.

“you asked if i’m sure, and i hope that this ring shows you that i’m absolutely positive. i can’t imagine a life without you. i can’t imagine what my life would’ve been like if you hadn’t called me a ‘stupid waste-of-a-pretty-face hockey player’ when we were sixteen.”

“all you got from that was ‘pretty’.” i let out a choked laugh through my tears.

“and i’m so glad i did, because that one word was all it took for me to fall to my knees. to chase after you and annoy you for an entire year until you agreed to go out with me. and now i never want to live a life without you.

“you’re my biggest supporter, my favorite person in the world, and the only girl i ever want. i love your kind soul, and the way your smile brightens my day. i love your beautiful eyes and the way you laugh over my dumbest jokes. i love that you fought for us to stay together, even when i wasn’t sure if we would work after i was drafted. i love that you dance in the kitchen when you cook, and the way you romanticize every part of our every day lives. i love that you refuse to go to bed angry, and that you sing in the shower and make me duet you. i love you, for everything you are, and everything you will be. and i would love to spend the rest of our lives together, if you’ll marry me.”

i can’t even get a response past my lips, opting to tackle him instead, nearly knocking us off the bed. but Alex’s quick thinking saves the moment, swaying us sideways instead to land on our sides on the mattress.

i straddle his waist, knocking him on his back as my lips glide along his face, peppering kisses on his cheeks, forehead, nose, chin, anywhere i can reach, before settling on his lips.

i pour all of my emotions into this kiss, filled with love and happiness, joy and affection. i suckle his bottom lip as i pull back to look into his eyes, a large grin taking up the bottom half of my face.

“is that a yes?” he chuckles, a hand resting on my lower back, the other still gripping the ring box.

“that’s a yes.” i nod excessively, holding my left hand out for him. he smiles widely, making quick work of removing the engagement ring from the box and sliding it onto my finger.

“i love you so much.” i tell him, grasping his face in my hands as i lower my lips to his once more.

***

y/nonthegram

liked by _alexturcotte, jackhughes, and 11,759 others

y/nonthegram i said yes <3

tagged _alexturcotte

comments on this post have been limited

jackhughes HE DID IT?! WITHOUT US?! WHAT HAPPENED TO THE PLAN?!

y/nonthegram plan?

jackhughes i mean.. i’m so happy for you guys! i knew you guys were meant for each other!

y/nonthegram thank you rowdy!

_alexturcotte thanks bro!

trevorzegras HELL YEAH BRO! LOCK HER DOWN! SO HAPPY FOR YOU LOVEBIRDS!

y/nonthegram thanks Z! celebration lunch tomorrow?

trevorzegras just txt me the deets, doll!

_alexturcotte thanks bro, and thanks for keeping the secret, even though you usually have loose lips

trevorzegras @/_alexturcotte i resent that

colecaufield MY BEST FRIENDS ARE GETTING MARRIED!! CONGRATS YOU GUYS 🍾🎉🥳🥂💍

y/nonthegram thank you coley! 😙🤍

_alexturcotte thank you cole!

_quinnhughes when did you grow up? stop growing up! i’m happy for you two, but jeez y/n, i could’ve sworn you were still fourteen and stalking practices yesterday!

y/nonthegram hey! i never stalked practices! i simply liked to observe the sport!

y/nonthegram but thank you quinny 🤍 you’ll be my man of honor, right?

_quinnhughes it would be my pleasure, y/n/n

jackhughes hey! why is QUINN your man of honor and not me?!

y/nonthegram because if it’s you then you’re gonna wear a dress. you wanna be man of honor?

jackhughes ya know what? i’ll let Quinn be your man of honor. you’ve known him longest, so it’s only fair.

y/nonthegram that’s what i thought

lhughes_06 congratulations guys!! engagement party at the lake house?!

y/nonthegram engagement party at the lake house!

#speak now fic list #alex turcotte #alex turcotte x reader #alex turcotte imagine #alex turcotte blurb #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #la kings #ontario reign #faithlynn’s writings <3

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 18

Pairing: mick schumacher x hamilton!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, mentions of food and alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff, angsty, mentions of anxiety and break up, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 3.3k

part. 17 | series masterlist | part 19 | taglist

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he threw caution carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

A/n: Thank you so so much for all the love and support! I see you, and I appreciate you! *mwah* I hope you guys like this chapter, I may have shed some tears while writing it hehe I'll release the next one TOMORROW so you better get readyyy!

When Yn knocked at Lewis’ door he wasn’t expecting to see her with a running nose and teary eyes. In fact, he wasn’t expecting to see her. She was supposed to be at her apartment getting ahead with some work because she had dinner plans with Mick, that’s what the German had told Lewis earlier that day.

“Hey, bitsy, what happened?” the Brit asked, confusion and worry lacing his tone.

Yn could only crash into her brother’s frame, being engulfed in a tight hug and letting out some of the pain and anxiety she had been holding back. He knew how hard it was for her to let herself be vulnerable, which meant she reached her breaking point.

“I broke up with Mick,” she sobbed into his shirt, and Lewis took a step back to look into her eyes, holding her face between his hands.

“What did he do?”

And though Mick had come to be a close friend of his with the shared routine in the Mercedes team, Lewis wouldn’t think twice before distancing himself if he had done something to hurt his little sister. Mick knew it. Everyone knew it. That’s the reason he was so taken back the second he noticed the lingering touches and secret stares. It wouldn’t be hard taking sides, but it would certainly hurt doing so.

Yn shook her head, more tears doting her black skin, “Nothing, he did nothing wrong-” a hiccup passed between her lips. “Someone posted about me and Mason, and suddenly the whole internet is talking about the two, and me, and our personal lives and- Lew, they have pictures! There are pictures of me and Mason around the internet.”

Lewis closed the door behind her and guided his sister to his couch. Roscoe came running to her too and it wasn’t long before the three were cuddled in silence, the only sounds being Yn’s sniffs and sighs.

He knew not to pressure her too much, knowing that she needed some time to breathe before finally speaking about everything, or most things, that were going through her head. Lewis was worried about Mick too, but he would check on his friend later, for now, his sister was his priority and she needed him, all his love and attention.

It was an hour or so before the sniffs stopped and Lewis noticed that Yn had fallen asleep, she was probably tired from all the crying and stress she had been dealing with lately, and the outing of her past relationship with soccer player Mason Mount was the icing on the cake. Lewis peeled his body off of hers with caution not to disturb her peace and reached for his phone seeing tons of messages from a worried Mick asking if he knew something about Yn’s whereabouts. He quickly answered reassuring the German that she was safe and with him, and added for him to be patient with her. Yn loved Mick, it was a fact.

Lewis ordered from their favorite place and got some of her favorite clothes his for her to wear after a long and much-needed relaxing shower. He gave Roscoe his food, and while the dog ate everything eagerly, he opened Twitter and Instagram seeing how the internet was indeed going crazy about Yn, Mick, and Mason. It was crazy how people felt entitled to someone else’s personal life.

Assuming that Yn probably didn’t have the time and the energy to do something, Lew stepped onto his terrace, closing the door behind him and calling the family’s lawyer. He had no idea how those pictures ended up on the internet, or how his sister’s past relationship got exposed, but he was gonna make sure whoever did it would be held accountable for it. He wanted to call Mason too, to ask if he had any idea about anything, how he would handle it from his side, but that was too personal, that was something only Yn should do.

After the food arrived, and Yn showered, the siblings sat on the living room’s floor to eat, a ritual they used to share whenever they could since their early teen years. Yn nibbled on her food, not eating the way she would when her favorite was on the table, she felt a lump in her throat, it was like she was trying to swallow back her own heart and by doing so she couldn’t try and put anything else there. Lewis noticed and used the moment to try and make her open up a bit, and share her burden with him. And that she did. She poured her heart out, cried again, sobbed again, and confessed to him how stressed she was ever since everyone discovered she was his sister, to which she was quick to apologize too because that wasn’t a problem, but rather how people started treating her was the real issue. Yn loved being a Hamilton, loved sharing the same blood as Lewis, loved having him around as her best friend, loved to share her happy and sad days with him, but she hated how everyone seemed to compare them now, how Yn wasn’t Yn anymore but “Lewis Hamilton’s younger sister” or even “Mick Schumacher’s supposed girlfriend” and not in a contextual way, but rather derogatory, like trying to diminish her and who she was, to resume her to two men. And fair enough, she loved them, she loved them both so much, but she was her own person, she loved herself before loving them. And maybe, Yn thought, she just needed to get used to having her brother mentioned every time, just like her relationship with Mick, but adding Mason to it? Adding Mason to it was cruel.

She confided in her brother all the things that had been plaguing her mind, and Lewis listened attentively, catching a tear from her here and there with his thumb, and nodding attentively. He was a good listener. He was the best brother, Yn told him.

That night they watched TV until falling asleep on the couch with Roscoe by their feet. Something they used to do when they were kids and the days were so packed that they didn’t have much time together, Yn would sneak into his room, they would make a tent with Lewis’ comforter, and turn on the TV on the low volume so that their parents wouldn’t wake up, and they would watch Disney movies until both passed out. Life used to be easier at the time.

When Lewis had to start the hectic schedule for Silverstone weekend Yn went to her parents. She spent a week sleeping in her old bedroom, having every possible meal with her parents, and enjoying the hugs, kisses, and pampering from them. They couldn’t mend their heart back together, but while there it felt like they could glue it for some minutes. It would fall to pieces in the ground when she lay awake in bed at night, but when the sun shined through the windows and her dad woke her up so they could cook pancakes together while The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill played as background sound some of the pieces of her heart would flutter closer.

The second week was about to start when she got a call from Corinna. She cried when she heard the woman’s voice. The accent is so like Mick’s. The sweet and warm tone. Corinan asked Yn if she wanted to spend some time in Switzerland with her. It was a calm place, she wouldn’t be bothered by too many paparazzi, she could go off from social media, they would have tons of activities to do if she felt like it, and Gina would even fly there for the weekend. So Yn packed her bags, and by Monday afternoon she was in Switzerland.

Yn cried again when Corinna hugged her, told her how sorry she was for hurting Mick, and tried to explain everything, but the older woman just shook her head and hugged Yn together, assuring her that she wouldn’t judge, that she did not blame Yn. Life was complicated, but Corinna seemed to be sure that Yn and Mick would find a way out of the storm they were facing, and she made sure to tell Yn that. Without pressure, of course. In fact, they agreed on not talking a lot about Mick or her relationship, but it turned out that was a hard subject to avoid because Corinna made her feel safe and comfortable enough to want to talk, and everything at that house screamed his name. So much so, that Yn wandered around on her first night and ended up in his childhood bedroom, watching some of his trophies, posters, books, and toys. Yn fell asleep curled on his bed, hugging his pillow.

The coming days were good. Corinna distracted her the same way her parents would. Yn taught the German some of her vegan recipes, and Corinna seemed to like them. They would cook breakfast together, share tea by the garden, feed the horses, and solve crosswords while eating dinner.

After two weeks in Switzerland Yn went back to her apartment in London. She wasn’t exactly ready for the remainder of Mick at her home, yet she needed to work through whatever was plaguing her mind, she needed to recenter so that she could face him again. She knew the way they broke up wasn’t fair to him, knew that they would have to talk again eventually, either for closure or to get back together.

At the door, his slides were the first thing to greet her, then his smell that plagued the whole apartment. By her couch, there was one of Angie’s toys, in her room his shirt she used to sleep with, some of his clothes inside her closet, his toothbrush beside hers, his shampoo, little things that got there gradually. Some of them she still remembers the exact moment. The feeling of tranquility coming home with him and knowing his things were there too.

Yn kept everything intact: all his things inside her house. All the feelings inside her chest.

She went back to her routine, working, seeing her friends, trying to enjoy a bit of the privacy that was still left after she deactivated most of her socials. Except, now she wasn’t joining and cheering for her brother in person during the weekends, but rather watching everything from her couch. Sometimes, those weekends would be shared with Lewis’ friends and her friends as well, the ones that couldn’t make it to the GPs too.

When September Yn was ready for the launch of her winter collection. She was also ready to be in the same room as Mick, or so she thought, she had to be especially because her team had sent invitations for the whole Schumacher family and she had a feeling he wouldn’t miss it.

Sure enough there he was, and though they couldn’t exchange more than a longing stare and a friendly wave, Yn felt everything she kept tamed inside burst out in the open. She busied herself with the parade and all the little details that needed her attention, and because she was the main name tonight she wasn’t able to speak to everyone. Though, what would she say to the Schumachers? “Thank you for coming! And, Mick, I miss you, maybe I owe you an apology”, well maybe that’s exactly what she should have said, but the rush didn’t let her. Maybe that’s why Yn was surprised when everything was over and someone from the staff came with a bouquet of tulips.

It wasn’t anything new, she usually gets a ton of flowers during parades, and events in general, from fans to the crew she’s working with, but she never got tulips, and her heart skipped a beat, hands slightly trembling when she reached for it, and opened the envelope between the beautiful flowers.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t give you a proper congratulations and hug. I’m really proud of you – today, and always. I’ll be here when you’re ready. - Your Mickey”

Yn knew exactly what ready meant.

And she also knew how meaningful it was of him to sign as her Mick. Not Mick Schumacher, or simply Mick, or anything, but “your Mick”. The version of him only she knew. A pair of tears rolled down her cheeks just when Lewis reached the door of her dressing room.

Yn looked at her brother silently, and he gave her one of his small smiles.

“You should text him,” the Brit suggests.

“How do you know I’m thinking about him?”

Lewis shrugs, draping his body on the blue couch, “You two went to see a field of tulips in Switzerland, right?” She nodded, and before she could joke about his memory Lewis added, “But that’s not how I know, he actually told me he would do it. Even asked me if I thought it was ok for him to show up.”

“Oh-” she utters. “I’m- I- I exposed him, put him in the spot. Mick is a super private guy, Lew, and I kind of blew everything up,” she sighs, knowing damn well she’s repeating the vent session they had back the other month.

“He told you he doesn’t care, didn’t he?” Lewis asks and Yn nods, biting her lips. “I think that’s proof enough that he’s ready to compromise if it means having you. That’s huge, Yn. He’s ready to give up part of his private life to stay with you, and not as in sacrificing himself and all this red flag thing, but as in: he thinks you’re more important. He loves you, can’t you see?”

“I’m still scared,” she confesses.

“Fuck being afraid, bitsy, do it anyways. If you let fear stop you, you’ll never fully live,” it’s his older brother's advice. “Besides,” Lewis adds, “You think he isn’t? He’s probably scared shit too, and that’s yet another reason why you should talk, dot it together because if you have one another the burden gets lighter – if there’s even one.”

She rolls her eyes, they’re full of tears ready to fall, and they do the second she smiles dropping her shoulders. Yn nods to Lewis, and when everything is packed and they’re walking on the parking lot to their respective cars parked side by side, her phone pings.

Lewis winks her way with a smile when she turns the screen to him. It’s Mick.

“Good luck, bitsy. I’ll be at home if you need me, and I’ll back you up on whatever you choose to do,” he takes off some of the weight from her shoulders.

Yn hugs him tight and whispers how much she loves him and how lucky she is to be a Hamilton. She listened to her heart and only her heart, trying to ignore whatever her mind wanted to rationalize, and whatever others would think, while she typed away on her phone.

After indirectly inviting him to dinner, she drives all the way to her apartment with a grin on her face and feeling all warm and fuzzy after feeling cold and sad for so long.

The second her doorbell rang, Yn stopped pacing around her living room and ran to the entrance, already feeling her hands shaking slightly.

“Hey,” Mick breathed with a small smile on his face when Yn showed up behind the wooden door. He was holding another bouquet, this time red carnations. Yn’s greetings got stuck in her throat. Mick looked just so good wearing blue jeans paired with a dark green hoodie. His eyes did not leave her, quite the contrary, he drank her in, blue orbs roaming around each small detail. For him, Yn looked just perfect.

“I-” Mick started to fill the silence after a minute, but before he could keep going Yn crashed into him, taking a deep breath and lacing her hands around his neck. He held her closer by the waist and inhaled her perfume, feeling his heart speed so fast it felt like he was racing around his favorite circuit.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you. Sorry, I made you wait. Sorry-,” Yn whispered with a voice so small he could only hear because her face was between his neck and shoulder. He detached their bodies just enough to hold her by the jaw, eyes scanning the tears slowly descending her cheeks.

Mick shook his head, “I should have come after you before. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Yn sobbed, letting her forehead hit his solid chest, and trying to take deep breaths to control her own heart, “No, babe, you gave me my time, you gave me space, and I love you for that.”

It was his turn to let some tears fall. Mick was a smart guy, he knew how to be rational, but it did not mean that he knew how to control each emotion of his. Quite the opposite, from time to time he let his feelings lead the way. He can feel insecure and overthink just like any human being. The thing is, that while they were away, he took his time to work on it. Work on himself. Look in the mirror and understand he was doing the right thing by kicking the ball to her court. There was nothing he could do but wait. And waiting he did.

Now, looking into her eyes, he wonders why he waited so long, how he spent every day for over two months without her. But the second those three little words passed between her plump lips he knew it hadn’t been for nothing. Knew that life was gifting his patient.

“Can you find it in you to forgive me?” she asked, still glued to his body.

He chuckled, “Schatzi, there’s nothing to forgive. And even if there was, you know I would. I would do anything for you because I love you. I love you in every language, the ones I know and the ones I don’t. I love you like my best friend, my favorite person, my lover. I love you like I never did before.”

It was the first time she heard him say those three little words, and they hit her like a truck, rearranging every organ in her body, and making her heart grow ten times bigger. Making her flutter, and come down at the same time. But for the first time, she wasn’t worried about falling, he would be there to catch her. Or they would fall together. Always together. Either way, she chose him. She chose to give love a chance. To give herself a chance at happiness. And when his lips found hers after so long it felt like everything came together. It was sweet, and salty with their tears. It was soft, and hungry, demanding attention and trying to make up for the lost time. It was like a king coming back from war for his queen. Stating that he was more alive than ever. That he wouldn’t leave. That his promise to come back was true. Burning cheeks, sweaty palms, warm chest, tingly stomach, it was like meeting each other for the first time all over again.

When Yn’s hands sneaked under Mick’s hoodie, brushing over his bare skin, he smiled into the kiss, taking the seconds to breathe in some air.

“We still have to talk. I still have so much explaining to do,” Yn started.

“And you have to tell me about your time in Switzerland without me, mama said you rode the horses with G and even planted a new three.”

She grinned. A bright expression doting her whole face.

“I’ll do it over dinner. Come, the food is getting cold,” Yn laced their fingers bringing him inside, and Mick enjoyed the feeling of truly crossing the line of her heart. He knew that this time entering her house meant so much more. It meant a green card for entering her heart and staying. And he would do it.

They would make a home out of each other. What they were not yet aware of was that the home was already there. All they had to do was get inside.

And they had just done it.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: We're so close to reaching the ending, I'm getting emotional ugh!! I hope you guys liked this chapter, I opted to let some details out of the plate, so let me know if you want them (like their dinner conversation and all) and I'll see if I can write an extra <3 make sure to reblog this chapter if you like it. I'll be releasing the next one tomorrow, and all I want to say is to make sure your seatbelts are on. *mwah*

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @shhhchriss @smiithys @f1kota @lunnnix @leclercsluv @baby-is-crying @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @p8dris @heelariously @peachiicherries @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @thatgibbsygirl @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @minkyungseokie @nichmeddar @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

#millie writes #ms47 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher social media au #mick schumacher x black!reader #f1 angst #social media au f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fandom #komh #mick schumacher instagram au #f1 instagram edit #f1 x black!reader

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bluehourbucky · 2 years ago

Text

Surprise

rockstar!dad!bucky x f!momreader

summary: last show of Buckys tour where he gets a special surprise

part of the same universe as Love from afar but can be read as standalone

a/n: so I'm kinda soft for rockstar dad bucky you might see more of him in the future I already have 2 more fic ideas sushdbbd

main masterlist

bucky masterlist

-more rockstardad!bucky

hope you enjoy! if you have any questions or feedback my asks are open!

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK

_________________________________________

Tonight was the last stop of tour, and Bucky was feeling all kinds of things. Nervous, sad that the tour was done, but also incredibly happy to finally get home to his pregnant wife and two boys.

"Good evening everybody!" Bucky yells into the mic and does a riff on his guitar.

"Tonight is the last show-" before he finishes he's cut off by screams of "noo" of their fans.

"I know, I know. This tour has been a real dream come true. I wanna thank everyone who's here tonight and everyone who saw our show in the last six months. And of course, to those who support us from afar."

Bucky stops talking and looks at the huge stadium screaming his name and almost tears up.

"Let's have fun tonight!"

Bucky starts singing the first song, and the crowd goes wild. He loves this so much the adrenaline the energy it makes him feel high.

It's getting close to the end of the show. Only the last song is left, and it's a surprise song for the last show. This song Bucky wrote for you when he was leaving for tour the first time after having a kid. Its not a song they usually play as it is a slow farewell song, but why not.

"Thank you for such an amazing show. You are such an incredible crowd. But can I ask for a little more of your time and energy?!"

The crowd yells out a yes. Bucky and other members of his band smile, him and Steve share a look that says "we made it".

They start singing, and the crowd starts singing the lyrics with them, some people start crying and the stadium is lit up with phone flashlights

When they finish the last song the crowd chants their name.

"Thank you!" Bucky bows lowly.

and then the crowd screams louder and Bucky turns around.

"I know the show is over. But I thought I could ask for one last song?"

Bucky is speechless when he hears your voice, and when he sees his 7 month pregnant wife on stage, he almost collapses. The crowds screaming dies out, and the only thing Bucky sees is you in a pretty purple dress standing a few feet away microphone in your hands.

"So? Just my favourite I'm sure no one would mind? Right Steve?"

Steve smiles at you softly, he knew you were coming and helped you pull this thing off without Bucky knowing.

"What's one more song?" Steve says and starts singing.

Bucky takes the microphone and starts singing to you. He slowly walks over, scared that you'll disappear any second. You wouldn't call this song particularly sweet and romantic since Bucky wrote it about your wild hookups in unconventional places when you were like 18. But still, it remains your favourite song.

By the end of the song, Bucky is close to sobbing he started crying at some point.

"My beautiful wife, everybody!" He says through tears. The crowd has been screaming since you came out on stage.

"Thank you! Sorry to keep you a bit longer I'm sure everybody is very tired. Get home safe." you say and leave the stage waving, but not before kissing Bucky softly and telling him you'll see him in a bit.

While you wait for the show to finish, you log into Buckys Instagram since you don't have your own. Already, there are thousands and thousands of posts about you coming on stage.

Bucky didn't publicly announce the pregnancy, and neither have you. This time, you somehow managed to hide it for so long since the attention was mostly pointed at the tour.

You're sure that by tomorrow, every tabloid will have your picture splattered everywhere but you couldn't care less. What Bucky doesn't know yet is that the boys are here with you and you can't wait to see his face.

"DADDY!" Theo screams and jumps into his fathers arms, and Bucky catches him.

Bucky holds onto his son like he's going to disappear any second.

"What are you doing here? How? When?" Bucky asks in between kisses that he's giving your son.

Leo crawls and hugs Bucky's legs, with Theo still in his arms, Bucky picks up his other son and starts kissing each of their cheeks in turns.

"We wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked, no?" you tease him a little and snap a picture of the sweet scene in front of you.

Somehow, Theo ends up clinging onto his dad's back, which gives Bucky enough space to pull you into a group hug.

"Ew you're sweaty and smell. Theo get down you'll get stinky too."

Bucky doesn't let either of you leave his embrace, and the menace he is, he snuggles Leo even closer to him. You smile into his neck, you missed him so much.

"Alright, I'll go shower, then we can go. Don't go anywhere."

"Daddy wait I'm still here!" Theo screams into Buckys ear trying to get down but Bucky is still holding him.

"Oh right, I guess you're not showering with me." Theo giggles happily and walks over to you.

"The other one too Buck." He rolls his eyes and let's his 3 year old down from his arms.

He doesn't take long, and the four of you are on your way to the hotel.

In the car, boys talk to their father, and Bucky listens very carefully, not to miss a single word.

When you get to the hotel suite, Bucky gets the boys ready for bed and reads them a bedtime story. They fall sleep almost instantly, Theo on his right shoulder and Leo on his left.

Bucky manages to wiggle out without waking them up and makes his way over to you.

"God I love you. You're incredible. How did you even do this we talked this morning and I-" you cut him off with a kiss.

"I love you too. And I can't belive that we've been married for so long and I still get to surprise you." Bucky smiles and put his hand on you belly, feeling the little movement.

"My pretty baby, I'm sorry daddy hasn't talked you I promise I'll make it up to you, I'm gonna be the only thing you hear for forever!" Bucky talks to the baby in your belly.

"I love you more than anything, Bucky I love our family and I missed you so fucking much." you start to tear up, holding onto Buckys hands. It hit you all at once that you're having another baby and that he wasn't there and that you can't believe you found a soulmate.

"Doll, you're my forever. I love you more than there are stars in the universe. I can not thank you enough for being there and supporting me and being the mother of my children. The last 6 months have both been the best and worst of my life. I want you to know that you and the boys were all I could think about. I can not wait to get home, our messy, lively home. Soon, I know we'll be getting zero sleep, and we'll be exhausted, but I will be doing it with you. That makes me extremely happy. You were my dream then, my dream now and my dream forever."

You sob into his chest, holding him tightly, as if he's going to disappear into thin air. The hug is a bit weird as your bump is in the way but it's the thing that you needed the most right now.

"If I could I would fuck you right now you look incredibly sexy." you say through tears and Buckys chest vibrate from the laugh.

"I'll make it up to you my love. I will have you in bed for a week straight, you'll be all mine. My pretty doll." He plants a sweet kiss on top of your head.

"Let's get you in bed. I'm sure you're tired." you only nod and let Bucky take care of you.

When you fall asleep, Bucky is wide awake looking at his beautiful family. He can't wait to get home and take care of you.

[THE END]

*extra*

*comments*

omg such goals!

want someone to look at me the way bucky and his wife look at each other!

how does one looks so gorgeous while that pregnant she's literally glowing! Bucky is so lucky!

family goals

#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #dad bucky x reader #bucky x reader #rockstar!bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff

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logansargeantsbabymom · 3 months ago

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Slowly But Surely

Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader, BRIEF!Steven Grant x Fem!Reader

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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F1 Masterlist

The dimly lit bar buzzed with the hum of conversation and clinking glasses as I mingled with my coworkers. It was one of those rare nights when we all managed to gather outside of work, and the atmosphere was light and jovial. Steven, Marc, and Jake had all been supportive of this social outing, and I had assured them I’d be okay on my own. Tonight was supposed to be fun, a chance to unwind and let go.

I glanced around the room, spotting a few familiar faces—friends from work chatting with their partners, laughter echoing over the music. I was caught in an animated conversation with a colleague, Dan, who had always been friendly but seemed a bit too forward tonight.

“You know, you really light up the room,” Dan said with a grin, his eyes lingering a bit too long on me. “It’s amazing how you manage to stay so upbeat all the time.”

I laughed it off, trying to maintain a friendly but professional demeanor. “Thanks, Dan. Just trying to keep things positive!”

Despite my attempts to keep the interaction platonic, I could sense a shift in the air. Dan’s gestures were a little too lingering, his compliments more frequent. I glanced around, searching for a familiar face to anchor me in this situation.

That’s when I felt a presence behind me—powerful and intense. I turned to see my boyfriend, Jake Lockley, his expression tight with something I couldn’t quite place.

“Hey,” I greeted him, hoping for a familiar anchor amidst the growing discomfort. “Did you have a good time?”

Jake didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Dan, his jaw clenched. It was only then I realized something was off. His eyes were dark, his posture rigid, and there was a dangerous edge to his silence.

Before I could process what was happening, Jake’s hand closed around my arm, gripping it firmly. “We’re leaving,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

I blinked, trying to read the situation. “Jake, what’s wrong? We’re just having fun.”

He didn’t answer, his grip tightening as he began to lead me toward the exit. I tried to pull away gently. “Jake, please, what’s going on?”

He ignored my protests, guiding me out of the bar with a determined stride. The cool night air hit us as we stepped outside, and I felt a mix of confusion and unease.

Once we were home, Jake’s demeanor shifted dramatically. The moment we walked through the door, his anger exploded. He paced the living room, his hands balled into fists, his face red with frustration.

“Why did you have to flirt with him?” Jake shouted, his voice echoing through the house. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?”

“Flirt?” I asked, my voice trembling. “I was just being friendly. He’s a coworker, Jake!”

“You think I don’t see what’s happening?” Jake roared. “You’re not just being friendly! You’re betraying me! You’re betraying Marc and Steven, too!”

My heart raced, my emotions swirling in a storm of confusion and hurt. “Jake, I don’t understand. Why are you saying these things? I love you. I’m here with you.”

“Love me?” Jake spat, his eyes wild. “You don’t love me! You’re just playing games! If you loved me, you wouldn’t be so easily swayed by some flirty guy at a bar!”

I felt a sharp pain in my chest as his words cut deep. “Jake, stop it. You’re scaring me.”

“You know what?” Jake continued, his voice rising to a shout. “Just stop pretending. If you’re cheating, just leave! Get out! You’re just a slut who can’t be trusted!”

The insult hit me like a physical blow, and I could no longer hold back the tears. I collapsed onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. The man I loved, the one who I thought understood me, had just shattered my heart with his cruel accusations.

Just then, Steven’s presence shifted into the room, his face softening with concern. He sat beside me, wrapping his arms around me in a comforting embrace. “I’m so sorry, love,” he murmured. “Jake is just… he’s scared. You’re the only person he’s ever let get close to him. He’s terrified of losing you.”

Through my tears, I looked up at Steven, struggling to speak. “I don’t know if I can forgive him… I don’t know if I can trust him again.”

Steven’s eyes were full of sadness. “I understand. But Jake’s actions come from a place of fear and insecurity. He loves you more than anything, and he’s afraid of losing you.”

Steven held me tightly until I eventually fell asleep, the weight of the evening finally catching up with me. As I slept, I could hear muffled voices, and though I couldn’t make out the words, I sensed the intensity of the argument.

When I woke up the next morning, I was greeted by the smell of breakfast wafting through the house. Groggily, I made my way to the kitchen to find Jake standing there, his face etched with regret.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his hands shaking slightly as he set down a plate of pancakes. “I… I wanted to make breakfast for you. I’m so sorry about last night.”

I hesitated, feeling a mix of anger and apprehension. “Jake, I’m not sure I can just… move past what happened.”

Jake’s eyes filled with tears. “Please, Y/N. I regret everything I said. I was scared, and I let my fear take over. I love you more than life itself, and I’m terrified of losing you. You mean everything to me.”

His vulnerability was painful to witness, and I saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You’ve hurt me deeply, Jake. I need to see that you can change, that you can control your jealousy and anger.”

Jake nodded, his face a mask of anguish. “I understand. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust. Just please don’t leave me.”

I took a deep breath, feeling the heaviness of the situation. “I’m willing to work through this, but it will take time. You have to show me that you can handle your fears without hurting me.”

Jake looked relieved, though his face remained etched with remorse. “Thank you. I’ll prove to you that I can change. I promise.”

As the days went on, Jake made a concerted effort to address his jealousy and anger. He attended therapy and worked on managing his emotions. It was a long and difficult journey, but with Steven and Marc’s support, he slowly began to make progress.

I remained cautious, but I saw glimpses of the man I had fallen in love with beneath the layers of insecurity and fear. It wasn’t easy to rebuild trust, but we were both committed to making our relationship work.

Jake’s apology breakfast was a small but significant step toward healing. It wasn’t the end of our struggles, but it was a beginning—a chance for us to rebuild and grow stronger together. The road ahead was uncertain, but I was willing to walk it with him, hopeful that our love could overcome even the deepest wounds.

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elliesmainhoe · 2 years ago

Note

thinking about ellie with an actor! reader 🫣like maybe reader is doing short films and indie films to start off their career. reader sometimes brings ellie to set with them and ellie can just watch them do their thing and be a certified supportive gf🫡

a bonus thought that i just thunked while typing this; what if reader gets a callback for a pretty big show and gets !! the !! part !! and it could be considered their like “breakout role”, and how proud would be :,))

Ellie Williams Headcanons: Actress!Reader

The start of your career

Supportive gf Ellie is prominent!

Comes to all of the sets of projects that your working on-

Makes you and the whole crew lunch because theirs only like ten staff

Ur biggest fan❤️

Watches every single indie movie your in, every short film, you could be an extra or the lead and she will absolutely LIVE for it.

Sitting next to her giggling away as she watches gobsmacked at every plot twist and cliffhanger of a film your in.

Takes all the photos for your Instagram.

yourinstagram

3,286 likes

yourinstagram BTS of the new YouTube short film 'The butterfly effect' OUT NOW!!

View 106 comments

ellie_sketches taken by me🧍

ellie_sketches @dinnodina look at how pretty my girl is.

→ dinnodina @ellie_sketches nah y/ns my gf not yours

→ yourinstagram @ellie_sketches lomls... Don't fight <33 your both my bbygirls dw

Breakout Role

She was the first one you told when the audition told you that you had gotten the role

The lead in a film adaptation of a well known spy novel. The script was amazing, empowering and had beautiful character development throughout the plot

And as soon as your agent told you of the role you knew you had to do it.

You never expected to actually get a call back.

You had never ran so fast from your car, up the three flights of stairs and into your shared apartment than you did once you got the call.

"ELLIE!!! ELLIE OH MY GOD WHERE ARE YOU!" You screamed before an alarmed Ellie came out of your bedroom.

"Fuck babe- wants wrong are you alr-"

She couldn't even finish her sentence before you had ran into her arms, squeezing the life out of her.

"I got it- I fucking got it Els" you sobbed. Ellie's face light up immediately and her smile beamed before her lips smashed into yours. The kiss lasted for what felt like hours before you broke away from eachother.

Her hands cradled your face, tears rushing down her cheeks "I am so, so fucking proud of you baby"

Lets just say she is the proudest girlfriend ever.

Reads all the books the movies are based off of even though she's not a big reader

Going as your date for the premiere <33

Such a fucking sweetheart, goes with you to every new experience to help you with your anxiety. Whether she's lurking behind the camera during an interview or holding your hand as you meet your idols.

She's there for you. Always.

yourinstagram

17,892 likes

yourinstagram the first ever set that I've had my OWN TRAILER

View 1,482 comments

ellie_sketches I have never met someone more deserving of this than you ❤️

dinnodina so proud of you bestie <3

florencepugh I'm so happy I got to work with you!!!

Becoming a star

After the success of the spy movie you lead- you were scouted for so many new things.

You became a face in many franchises: scream, the hunger games and even marvel!

It was honestly insane.

And ofc big roles came with high rates. You bought a penthouse apartment in Manhattan- and you bought Ellie everything she wanted.

(Your her sugar mommy fr lmao)

She was able to quit her day job and focus solely on her art. She did something she loved and you were doing yours. It was perfect.

Date nights mainly stayed at home- the paparazzi and constant flashing lights became really tedious- so dinner and a movie was the way to go

Not like the two of you were complained.

yourinstagram

72,935 likes

yourinstagram I have never felt so honoured, appreciated and in love than I am right now. Being able to make acting my livelihood is something that I had never thought I would be able to achieve in this lifetime- and I am so so so grateful for everyone that has made this possible. Thank you to the staff, the directors, my agents and my team.

But a special thanks to my Ellie. Ellie has been by my side since day one, she has seen me lose roles, get roles, cry, scream and laugh through this completely and utterly insane experience. I love you so much.

....

GUESS WHO HAS AN OSCAR BITCHES!!!!

The comments for this post have been turned off

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Taglist: @aunslie @lonelyfooryouonly @prettypeoniesx @daryldixonh0e @kittynnie @lovelyyevelyn @randomhoex @moonlightdivine @haerinwho @mufflaa @mial1l @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @moonlighting87 @escaping-reality8 @magicalfreakcowboylawyer @hejdevkdbdjsd @dergy @half-of-a-gay @ellieismami @cyberlainn @gollumsmygel @sseorii @kyleeservopoulos @taloulalila @ellieluhme @kiiyoooo @delusionalvioleht @joelscharm @hi2647 @gumdropkoo @coffeeandbookskeepmealive @womaniza @namgification @kimiisims-blog @tayyyystan @abigaillovestoread

Join my taglist here

NOT PROOFREAD

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years ago

Text

Pink Scarf - PART 18.1 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: References to sexual situations. ANGST. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: OKAY Y'ALL, Part 18 is split into two parts (18.1 & 18.2), so be aware that there is a bit of a cliffhanger for this reason. This part as a whole is another monster, but in a completely different way than the action-packed Part 17, and I didn't want to torture y'all anymore by making you wait for a GIANT chapter, since I was at 13k+ with no end in sight! We're diving into uncharted territory here (which was a challenge, let me tell y'all!) and 18.1 is all in flashback because of this. The vibe is DIFFERENT for obvious reasons, which you'll understand shortly. I promise there’s a good reason for the pivot, which will become more apparent in 18.2. Thank you so much for your patience, and I really hope you enjoy this perspective change in the story!

I've set the mood with lyrics from Teresa Brewer's Till I Waltz Again With You which is the song Elvis really sang in the talent show in '53 (unfortunately there is no recording of him singing it *sob*), and I've added pictures of our boy in the different years referenced, just to really give you a mental picture and break your heart a little bit. Only because I love y'all!

If you so desire, you should now have the ability to tip my blog or different chapters in the story! Some of you have been asking about this, and of course, no one is obligated to do so! If you do choose to tip, thank you so much! I've never had anyone want to pay for my work before, so this is a big step towards my romance novelist dreams. 💜

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL and your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. You all are the best community a writer could ask for! Thank you so much for your support. I am loving getting to know y'all better! I love every single reaction and comment and ask, and I'm sorry if I don't get back to them all as soon as I'd like but know that I love you all and am so excited to be making new friends! And a big "Hey, Y'all!" to our friends from Elvis Twitter, Elvis Discord, and Elvis Instagram--I see and appreciate you coming over to join us! 👀💋

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone. There seem to be some issues with tagging that I can't seem to fix, so please know I'm not leaving you out intentionally! Also, if you comment on a previous part that you want to be tagged, I might not always see it, so feel free to message me if I miss you!

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat!

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there!)

Elvis in 1951

You'll be waiting for my arms

September 1951

Elvis meanders down the hall through the crowds between classes, quiet, blue eyes sharp and watchful. He heads towards the lunchroom, his cheap and worn guitar slung over his shoulder. His dark blonde hair is too long for the popular style, greased and pushed back, a stray lock falling into his eyes. The style of his clothes is too bright and bold for a scrawny 16-year-old white boy, gaining him stares that range from curiosity to contempt, but he doesn’t care. He is wholly himself, a separate standout from the masses, but somehow unassuming through it all.

A few weeks into junior year, he already has his head down and tries to pay attention in his classes as best he can, even though sitting still is hard. He knows he must graduate and his mama and daddy will have his hide if he doesn’t, so he sits in the back row and listens and does his work as best he can. He makes decent grades. He’s respectful to his teachers, all “Yes, ma’am,” and “No, sir,” just like he was raised. All the while, his fingers drum out rhythms on his legs (the desk is too loud—he learned that the hard way a long time ago), his mind whirling and spinning with melodies and harmonies and dreams for the future.

But mostly he observes. He knows he’s different. He knows most kids don’t understand what he’s about. He’s a poor, church-going kid from the projects who is so quiet that he seems a little slow, except that those piercing blues see and hear everything, constantly cataloguing, constantly adapting, constantly thinking, constantly moving. Always searching for a way to get his family off the dole and into comfort. So, he waits and watches and learns. He doesn’t care if that earns him strange looks.

The halls start to thin as underclassmen hustle to their classes and upperclassmen run to lunch, loud and hungry and antsy. Elvis is not in a hurry, though, yet not without direction.

The little, fluttering thing that rounds the corner is, however, and plows straight into him, managing to knock herself and her books to the floor. He’s not quick enough to get out of the way, but he is fast enough to catch her as she goes flying backwards.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, his hand grasping your forearm as momentum carries you in the other direction. He somehow manages to swing his guitar down gently enough that it doesn’t splinter but the strings thrumb in a dissonant chord as it hits the ground.

The move to save both the guitar and the girl throws off his center of balance, so as you wheel back, you take him with you. In your panic to stay upright, you grab at him desperately, latching onto his wrist, which damns you both, but does serve to soften the blow as you land with a gasp on your backside.

His fancy shoes have no traction on the slippery tile, and he struggles and slips this way and that before gravity wins the battle, sending him ungracefully to his knees, pinning your skirt between your legs. He manages to catch himself with his free hand at the very last moment, avoiding completely crushing you under his weight. His breath huffs out with the exertion, and that’s how he ends up sprawled on top of you in the middle of the hallway, your books scattered around like shrapnel.

Time seems to slow for a second, and he really looks at you for the first time, his face in too intimate of a proximity for comfort as he looks into your big, wide eyes and sees a pink blush grace your cheeks. Your pretty hair surrounds you like a halo in disarray. And your lips, well, they are much to close because he can feel the warmth of your breath on his face. His chest heaves and then catches because you are quite beautiful, sprawled out there on the tile under him.

Then reality and propriety rushes at him like a freight train, realizing the compromising position you are both in, through no fault of your own, but compromising, nevertheless. He feels heat rush to his face at the inappropriateness of his thoughts.

“Aw, h-heck, s-sorry,” he blunders, pushing up and back off of you as fast as his lanky limbs will allow.

“No, I should be the one that’s sorry,” you bluster back, leaning on your forearms “I was too much in a hurry and wasn’t looking where I was going.” Your voice is light and as pretty as you are.

“Are ya o-okay?” he asks, truly concerned but also happy with the excuse to look you over as you sit upright, your hair cascading over your shoulders. Taking in your slightly disheveled state, he can’t help but feel like you’re the loveliest girl he’s ever laid eyes on. It’s not just because you’re pretty—of course you are—but more like the feeling he gets from you, like you’ve reached something inside of him that no one else ever has. He can’t explain it. It’s like he’s always known you somehow. Shaking off those strange thoughts, he kneels, gathering your scattered books off the black and white tiles.

“Aside from my bruised ego, I think I’m fine,” you sigh shakily, “and now I’m late for class, on my first day, no less.”

“O-Oh, y-you’re new?” he asks, stammering yet again. He doesn’t understand why he’s so tongue-tied. He talks to girls all the time. The boys may despise him for a multitude of reasons, but the girls…well, he likes them a lot, and they seem to like him right back, with all his sweet Southern politeness and his pretty eyes and how he strums on his guitar and warbles at night in the shadows at the Courts. He’s had girlfriends from the time he was twelve, and he seems to have some innate knowledge of what women of all ages like. It’s one of the things he’s good at—talking sweet to girls and kissing on them.

But this pretty little girl has him thrown for a loop.

You’re both kneeling now, gathering papers and books. “Yeah, we just moved here…oh, thank you,” you say as he picks up your books and stands, offering his hand to help you up. Your hand is soft and cool in his larger one, the touch of your skin on his shooting and crackling through him like lightning. Those eyes of yours catch his briefly, and he almost feels dizzy with the way they make him feel.

Lord have mercy, he thinks, what the hell’s wrong with me?

“Oh gosh, I hope I didn’t break your guitar!” you gasp, seeing it discarded on the floor, obviously mortified at the prospect. It’s the last thing on his mind, and he manages to tear his gaze from you for a second to look down at the instrument. Honestly, he’d break a hundred guitars if it meant running into you again, but by some miracle, it’s undamaged.

Elvis picks it up and strums it. “It’s fine, no harm done,” he drawls, lip curving up in a shy, boyish grin.

Relieved, you flash a little smile, and the sight nearly knocks him over. “Well, good,” you say breathlessly, taking your books back. “I really am sorry, again. I—uh—I gotta get to class.” You are obviously worried about being late, face still flushed with embarrassment. Before he can say another word, you are already rounding the corner, scurrying away, your hair bouncing in your wake.

He stands there, staring after you and blinking as if coming out of a trance. He realizes he didn’t even catch your name or get a chance to introduce himself. All he knows is that you’re a pretty little freshman that just moved here, and while this information is pertinent, it doesn’t really help him much.

Walking to lunch in a daze, all he can think about is how he can go about seeing you again.

Till I kiss you once again Keep my love locked in your heart Darling I'll return and then We will never have to part

Unfortunately, he doesn’t see you, not for a while anyway. The school isn’t that damn big, but he never seems to be able to catch you or your name. Which is a damn shame because his thoughts seem to drift towards you when he least expects it. You show up in his daydreams or when a song he’s singing strikes him a certain way. It’s disconcerting, to say the least.

By the next time he finds you, he’s just about put you out of his mind. But the minute he sees you that morning, out in front of the school, giggling with your new girlfriends, it’s like you’ve plowed into him all over again. His heart thuds a little harder in his chest as he passes you, trying not to stare, but he manages to catch your eye for a split second all the same.

At first, there’s no hint of recognition, which nearly breaks his heart, but then your eyes widen with realization and a hint of a shy smile plays on your lips. He returns it in kind, unable to stop himself from the bashful and relieved way it spreads over his face. For a moment, he considers stopping and asking all the questions he’s dying to know the answers to, but the flow of the crowd pushes him onwards and into the building.

He’s near giddy the rest of the day, wondering how and why the pretty girl he barely knows has captured him so completely.

Though it may break your heart and mine The minute when it's time to go Remember dear, each word divine That meant I love you so

Elvis in 1953

April 1953

Standing backstage in the high school auditorium, Elvis wonders why the hell he’s agreed to do this damn talent contest. His hands are shaking and clammy and he can feel the vomit rising in his throat. He’s scared shitless because he’s really only ever sung in the dark to his neighbors at the Courts, or in church with the congregation, but something inside him knows he needs to do this, even if it’s just to show himself that he can. It’s like a part of his soul drives him forward, even though his mind thinks he’s nuts.

It's not until he sees you backstage, ahead of him in the line, that his mind switches from crippling stage fright to a sense of excitement and curiosity. Your hair is done up real pretty and you’re wearing your Sunday best, he can tell. You don’t see him right away, and he knows he’s staring, but at least it’s keeping his mind off his churning stomach. You must feel his gaze because you turn and look back, your intelligent, wide eyes locking onto his.

It sends a thrill of a different kind through him when you tiptoe back towards him, and his heart races a little more than it already is.

You look him over carefully, and he might feel more self-conscious except your eyes are kind and concerned. “You okay?” you ask in a hushed whisper, not wanting to interrupt the current act on stage.

“I-I-I-I…yeah,” he stutters, unable to get the words out. His legs are wiggling, hands shaking, and he feels like he might puke all over your shiny shoes, but sure, he’s fine.

Lord, why is it in this moment of all moments that you come to talk to me?

You smile knowingly. “Yeah, I’m real nervous, too,” you breathe, seeing right through him. When he looks at you this time, he can see it, how you wring the sheet music in your hands and your eyes keep darting to the stage. It makes him feel a little better, somehow, knowing he’s not alone in this.

You stand there with him for a moment, and it should be awkward, except it isn’t at all. That strange familiar feeling of you makes this seem natural. He can’t seem to get any words out, so he just waits and jiggles.

“It’s gonna be fine. I think we’re just supposed to imagine everyone naked, right?” you whisper a little too seriously and that sets him off, a loud chuckle erupting from his mouth. Hearing the word “naked” come from your proper, pretty little lips just tickles him in a variety of ways, and he can’t help it. Other people in the line shoot him warning looks for being too loud, so he quells his laughter as best he can.

You look over, your eyes dancing more with amusement than nervousness, and you cover the giggle that starts to come out of your mouth. He’s reminded once again by the warmth that spreads through his chest that you are the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and hell, you’re funny, too.

You have to stop looking at each other because you’re one small step away from setting each other off into more peals of nervous laughter, which would surely disrupt the show. He watches as you bite your pink bottom lip and thinks of how much he’d like to do the same to you, imagining how soft it would feel yielding to him. Then he tries to push that less than appropriate thought right out of his head as soon as it pops up because, damn, this isn’t the time or place for that kind of thinking.

As your laughter dies, you look down at your feet, obviously feeling a swell of fear as you play with the necklace around your neck. He can feel it coming off of you in waves, despite your attempts to comfort him.

Suddenly, he can’t stand the sight of your uncomfortableness. He has the deep urge to fix it and make you feel better. Without thinking, he nudges you with his elbow. When you look up at him in surprise, he crosses his eyes, making a googly-eyed silly face at you. It has the intended effect, sending you into a fit of giggles, earning a glare and shush from the teacher in the wings.

It’s the cutest thing, watching you laugh like this, and it sends a rush of calm and satisfaction over him to know he’s the cause. He almost forgets that he has to go out there and sing in a few minutes.

“I’ve got to go, we’re on next,” you whisper.

“You’ll be great,” he says. He doesn’t even know what you’re going to be doing but it doesn’t matter. Anything you do will have his attention.

You smile shyly, as if reading his mind somehow, and he feels heat rise to his cheeks that has nothing to do with his stage fright. You nod, then skip off to the front of the line.

He watches in awe from the wings as you accompany your singing friend on the piano. Your hands fly over the keys with practiced, concentrated ease, and if he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t ever have guessed that you were nervous.

He suddenly thinks he needs to take up the piano. Maybe you could teach him and then he’d have an excuse to see you.

That thought is fleeting though, as your performance is through in the blink of an eye, and you exit the stage with a relieved smile, meaning that he’s one step closer to having to get out there himself. Now that he knows you’re okay, his nerves come rushing back. His leg vibrates uncontrollably, but he still manages to give you a thumbs up.

You slow as you pass him, placing your hand lightly on his bicep. He stills and looks at you in surprise at the contact.

“Thinking of them naked works,” you whisper with a smile, “Break a leg out there.” Then, you give him a light squeeze before being ushered away. Sparks fly through him at the echoes of your hand on his arm.

Elvis thinks his heart might explode. It’s crazy, this way you make him feel like he’s flying. It carries him out onto the stage, where he sings a rendition of Teresa Brewer’s “Till I Waltz Again With You” that somehow brings the house down and wins the talent show. They even call him out for an encore.

Thinking of them naked works, indeed.

But when he closes his eyes to sing, it’s you he thinks of. It’s you that gets him through.

The feeling he has coming off that stage is a buzzing, electric high he thinks could get used to. A dangerous, tiny thought in the back of his mind tells him to chase it like there’s no tomorrow, but the relief at the whole thing being over is too strong and pushes the thought away.

But the feeling lingers in his body like lightning in the clouds, just like your touch.

Till I waltz again with you Just the way we are tonight I will keep my promise true For you are my guiding light

Elvis in 1955

Winter 1955

Jack somehow convinces him with a begging phone call, on this cold-ass winter night on one of his only nights back home in Memphis in so long he doesn’t even remember the last time he slept in his own bed, that he has to help Jack get some broad at some diner across town.

And because Jack’s his best friend and he hasn’t seen him in years due to Jack’s stint in the Army and his insane touring schedule, Elvis bags off his family and Dixie (poor, lovely Dixie) and jumps in the Caddy to head to this diner across town. He figures he’s gotta eat anyway, so might as well get some time in with an old friend, and it’ll be a bonus if he can help ole’ Jacky Boy get some tail.

Absolutely exhausted from gallivanting all over the South, playing sold-out shows, and doing other things he’ll never tell his mama about, he drags himself into the diner, hands stuffed in the pockets of his big wool coat. Good old Jacky sees him coming and leaps out of the booth to give him a big, manly hug.

Elvis can both see and feel the change in Jack. There’s a bravado to him now, an air of machismo that is new. He’s broader and more muscular than the boy who enlisted right after graduation instead of waiting for the draft to get him. And Elvis gets it—Jack didn’t have much to stay for, what with his father being such a mean drunk and him having no special skills to speak of. Jack figured, why not just get it over with?

Even though Jack’s only a little over four months older than Elvis, he was a grade ahead in school, but that discrepancy never mattered much to either of them.

“Look at ya, ya sonnofabitch! Finally got some meat on those bones!” Jack says gleefully, slapping him on the back.

“And you’re as ugly as ever,” Elvis shoots back with a smile, sliding into the red booth.

“Damn, man, I’m hearin’ your songs all over the radio. Couldn’t fuckin’ believe it when I got home and every station I turned on was your warbling ass,” Jack teases in a congratulatory tone.

“Honestly, I’m so damn tired I could sleep for a week, but we’re back out on the road tomorrow,” he replies.

“What happened to that scrawny, shy kid who’d only play in the dark, huh? I’d be scared shitless to get up in front of all those people! Now you’re playin’ all the time…I just can’t believe it, man,” Jack shakes his head.

Elvis shrugs, “Can’t really ‘splain it. It’s like the biggest rush ya could ever have and it just overpowers the fear. The crowds are wild though—never knew chicks could be so crazy.”

“Oh, I bet you are just drowning in it, ain’t ya?” Jack says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Elvis shrugs nonchalantly but his lip curls up into a mischievous grin as he looks out the window. He was indeed taking advantage of his newfound popularity with the girls, almost to an insatiable extent. He’d done good resisting in those first few months, knowing he had Dixie waiting for him at home, wanting to be faithful to her, wanting to be a good Christian boy. But damn, the more he was on the road and the higher the highs of his performances, he just needed a way to wind down at the end of the night. And there were just so many pretty girls literally tearing themselves apart to get to him.

In the end, he hadn’t been strong enough to resist. He knew cheating on Dixie was wrong, and he felt terrible about it, having her waiting here at home for him like she was, but with every show he was learning that he wasn’t gonna be giving any of this up any time soon. No, he wanted to take this as far as he could go, and while a small part of him wanted to hang on to the idea of starting a family with Dixie, a bigger part knew that wasn’t in the cards, not anymore.

“Speakin’ of, what the hell am I doin’ here? You suddenly forget how to talk to girls while in the service?” Elvis ribs, yet truly wants to know.

Jack lowers his voice to a hush and leans in, his eyes darting up every so often to make sure he’s not overheard. “No, man, but this girl, she’s different, I’m tellin’ ya. This ain’t about gettin’ laid. I don’t know what to say, I walked in here right off the train my first day home and it was like the goddamned heavens opened. Every time I try an’ talk to her, I just get all tongue tied like an idiot. I figure, you were always good with talkin’ to girls in general, so I need your help buddy.”

“You’ve got it bad, man. She must be a real looker,” he says, shooting up an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. She’s smart…oh, shit, here she comes! Be cool,” Jack hisses, leaning back too casually, a dumb grin spreading over his face. Elvis can’t help but chuckle at the sight of his friend being so head over heels for a girl he barely knows. He leans back, taking a much more relaxed and subtle stance than his friend, one that has been well practiced these past few months, as the waitress comes up from behind him to take their orders.

If nothing else, watching Jack be a dumb shit is entertaining, he thinks.

The waitress bounces over and Elvis rolls his eyes slowly up her body, taking in every lovely curve along the way.

“Oh, hi, Jack! I see you’ve got a friend with you today.”

Elvis freezes, his eyes reaching your face just as you start speaking and look over at him.

It’s you.

Holy shit, it’s you.

His brain short-circuits. He hasn’t seen you since he graduated a year and a half ago. And damn if you don’t look prettier than ever, all grown up and filled out in all the right places, your smile brightening the room.

His lips part as his mouth drops, he can’t help it.

“Um, yeah, y/n, this, uh, this is my friend Elvis,” Jack stumbles over the introduction, looking to Elvis for help. But in this moment, Elvis feels utterly useless, every ounce of confidence he’s gained in the past year draining out of him all at once.

His heart gallops in his chest, and he sits up straighter. He can see you looking over him expectantly, eyes narrowing as if trying to place him. He knows he shouldn’t care if you remember him, but by god, if you don’t, he thinks he might be crushed. But he’s also aware he’s different, too. He’s filled out and his hair’s darker, and why in the hell would you remember him from all those years ago anyway? You’d barely spoken to each other in four years.

“Elvis…” His name drags and plays on your tongue in a way that makes his toes tingle. “Like that singer?”

Of course, that’s how you recognize him, he thinks. But at least you know of him, even if it’s not in the way he wishes. He decides to lean into being “Elvis” because maybe that’ll make him feel less like an awkward high schooler and more like a cool cat. Regardless, the shyness he’d felt for being odd in high school is now mostly gone, and his unique style is part of the reason he was garnering so much attention these days. His confidence, especially with the ladies, is ever-growing. He knows he’s getting to be hot shit in the South and now has an image to live up to. There is no space for shy Elvis Presley here in this diner, for all the reasons. So, he manages to turn up the dial on his Southern charm, forcing himself to relax in your presence.

“Well, Miss y/n, seein’ as I never met another man with that name, I suppose, yes, like that singer,” he responds with a coy smile.

“Aw, don’t let him trick ya with that modesty. This here’s the one and only Elvis Presley,” Jack kicks him under the table, the message clear: Use your fame to help me out.

Your face lights up a little at that, which has a little flutter rolling in his empty stomach. “Now, Jack, you never told me you were friends with a celebrity,” she teases, her attention divided between the two men.

Elvis has to very consciously remind himself that he is here to help Jack, not steal you out from under him, but it is taking everything in him not to reach over and play with the hem of your skirt and tell you just how much he wants to take you home to his mama, Dixie be damned.

Jack smiles almost giddily, obviously pleased with your attention. “Well, I’m not one to go showin’ off or nothin’,” he says self-deprecatingly.

Elvis rolls his eyes at that.

“Well, my sister is gonna be beside herself when I tell her who came in tonight. She’s thirteen and might be your biggest fan, Elvis,” you say cheerily. He notices you aren’t completely beside your own self over him being here, which he has some mixed feelings about. On the one hand, he desperately wants your attention and admiration, but on the other hand, it’s kinda nice that you aren’t fawning all over him. It makes you even more appealing somehow.

“So, what can I get ya?” you ask, taking out your pen and paper, looking from man to man.

“I’ll have a hamburger, well done, please, and one of your vanilla milkshakes,” Elvis says, unable to take his eyes off you.

“I’ll have the same, except the burger medium rare, like a real man,” Jack jokes, poking fun at Elvis’ picky eating habits. Thankfully, you don’t react, and Elvis can’t help but kick the shit out of Jack’s shin.

Jack winces.

“Hmm, why do I get the feeling that you two are gonna be trouble?” you smile knowingly at them, pointing at each with the top of your pen. “I’ll be back with those in a jif. Try not to kill each other before I get back.” You bounce away and both men turn to watch.

“No promises, honey,” Elvis calls after you.

“Y’see what I mean, don’tcha? Ain’t she just special somehow?” Jack whispers excitedly, totally gone over you.

Oh, Elvis knows intimately how special you are, but he can’t say it, so he settles for a, “Yeah, man, she seems great,” and tries not to feel sullen about how he’s got to be Jack’s wingman for his own dream girl.

They shoot the shit, and he does his best to get Jack talking to you when you come by, even though it’s hard because he wants you for himself. It’s painful having to keep himself so in line, his heart cinching in his chest every time you come by to check on them. That’s when Elvis knows he’s in deep trouble. He reminds himself often that he is off the market anyway, at least when here at home in Memphis.

He promised to help Jack out, and so he will, even if it kills him.

“I gotta take a leak, man,” Jack says after the food is finished, scooting out of the booth.

You sashay over to clear the plates, and Elvis can’t help but stare as you lean over the table. Your eyes dart to his and he swears he sees a hint of pink on your cheeks. Warmth spreads across his chest and he tries not to avert his eyes. Any other girl he would confidently ogle, so he tries his best to stay the course.

“Y’ know, I’m not sure how you do it,” you say, breaking some of the tension as you stand over him, hands full of dishes.

“Do what, honey?” he drawls, raising only his eyes. Now that Jack’s gone, he’s laying it on thick and can’t bring himself to feel bad about it. Not when it’s you.

You shift your weight, but otherwise ignore his advance, much to his chagrin. You’re probably used to getting hit on by customers. “Getting up in front of those big crowds, all those people, and singing like that. I could never,” you shake your head.

A split second and he decides to play his hand, mostly because he has to know, just has to, so leaning back confidently, he drawls again, “Oh, well, a pretty girl once told me you just hafta picture ‘em all naked.” A slow grin spreads across his face.

Your eyes widen as it hits you. He watches you carefully, cataloguing your expression as you remember, your eyes travelling over him quickly, trying to reconcile your memory of him with the man in front of you. Your cheeks go rosy, and he relishes in the fact that he’s the reason.

“Well, damn, I guess I give really good advice,” you finally say, a little breathless, with a shake of your head.

Elvis can’t help the loud laughter that escapes him at that. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but you surprise him with your quip. You smile back at him, proud of yourself. The smile makes him feel special somehow, like he’s the only guy in the world.

“You’re really somethin’ else, y/n,” he says, his laughter dying down and being replaced too quickly by the awe he always seems to feel in your presence.

Something flashes over your face, something he can’t quite interpret. “Right back atcha, Elvis Presley,” you respond, and there’s something in the softness of your voice and in the way your big eyes stare straight into his that sends electricity zinging down his spine.

Then, as he watches as you walk away, he knows with absolute certainty that this won’t be the last time you see him.

Till I waltz again with you Keep my love locked in your heart Darling I'll return and then We will never have to part

And it isn’t. In fact, Elvis somehow manages to stop into the diner nearly every time he is home from then on out. Sure, Jack is his best excuse, but he also rounds up the band and Sam and even Dixie once or twice to go to this great diner he “just happened to find.”

Once he knows you are more often than not going to be there because it’s your family’s place, he wants to go frequently, and Jack is thrilled because the man might be more entranced with you than he is.

It’s not long that being friendly customers turns into being friends. Even when they find out you’ve got a serious boyfriend (because of course you do), neither him nor Jack is much dissuaded by the fact. Elvis would much rather have you in his life as a friend than not at all, and Jack is somewhat delusional in thinking you’ll drop your boy for him.

And while Elvis wants more than anything in the world to have you all to himself, he knows it’s likely not in the cards, at least not now, and maybe not ever. Not with the boy you want to marry you ever so close and Jack waiting in the wings like a puppy. And certainly not when he is running himself ragged with tours and recording, with his very real dreams of stardom so near he can taste them. But, as reality shows when he and Dixie finally part ways in late spring, it is no kind of life for a successful relationship.

So, he has to be content with watching you walk away with someone else, knowing he can’t have you, even though those electric shocks go through him every single damn time he sees you.

Though it may break your heart and mine The minute when it's time to go Remember dear, each word divine That meant I love you so

Elvis in early March 1956

March 1956

Elvis’ career takes off so dramatically that he barely has time to process his good fortune. In the moments when he’s not traveling, recording, touring, or appearing on television, he relishes the somewhat normalcy of hanging out with friends and family. It’s steadily getting harder for him to go out without being bombarded by fans, but he generally enjoys the attention. He’s grateful for his fans and for his budding success, though sometimes it feels so overwhelming he doesn’t know what to do with himself. There are moments when he desperately wants to be still and alone but when he finally has a moment to himself, it feels like the world is closing in on him.

It’s one of these moody, antsy nights that he finds himself at your doorstep, without anyone else in tow. The last time this happened was the night he signed his contract with RCA. You’d been the first person outside of family he wanted to share the news with and without a thought, he’d ditched everyone else and showed up at the diner in his fancy suit, uncharacteristically lifting you up in a hug and spinning you around in his exuberance.

But the mood tonight is decidedly less enthusiastic. He’s tired but hasn’t been able to sleep in what feels like days, pressure pushing in on him from all sides. Usually he didn’t mind, taking it all in stride as part of his new life, but tonight he was worn and restless, his body vibrating with energy that has no outlet.

When he feels like this, he gets needy. He’s already the sort of guy that thrives on physical touch, but in the state he’s in, it’s a necessity rather than a preference. Normally, he might go out with a girl and fool around a bit, but the idea of having to charm and swoon and put on airs right now feels impossible. But he knows he needs a woman’s touch to soothe him and that’s how he finds himself here, alone, knocking on your door.

Your eyes widen with surprise when you open the door and then soften with concern at the state of him, near pitiful with the dark circles rimming his eyes, his body slumped against the door frame, and his pallor a sickly pale.

God, he just wants to weep at the welcome sight of you.

You quickly and quietly usher him inside. By some merciful twist of fate, you are alone. Your mother and sister are out of town visiting relatives and your father is working late at the diner.

This visit should be awkward but isn’t—it’s as though he has been dropping by your house alone and unannounced your whole lives with the way you receive him, and for this he is thankful. And perhaps this is why everything seems to hit him at once, a wave of anxiety rolling over him so strongly that he can barely speak as you lead him to the couch.

It’s suddenly all too much, this feeling of responsibility towards his family and friends and fans. He’s overworked and overtired and the panic of his rising success has him shaking before you, his heart beating too fast and his breathing too shallow, making him dizzy and lightheaded. As he hyperventilates, you hum at him softly, prompting him to put his head between his knees while rubbing circles on his back. Tears leak from his eyes, staining his cheeks and where he leans his head against his forearms on his knees. He too worked up to even be embarrassed by how completely raw and vulnerable he is before you.

With very few words, you just seem to know what’s happening. You don’t ask him to explain or to defend his feelings, you just accept them for what they are and accept him for all that he is. There are no expectations. He feels incredibly relieved by that.

As he eventually starts to calm, he falls over, exhausted, laying his head in your lap. He feels your slight hesitation, but only for a second, before your fingers begin to cart through his hair. He cannot help the small whimpering moan that escapes his lips at the tenderness of the gesture, one he so desperately needs in this moment.

You are exactly what he needs, and he doesn’t have the wherewithal to deny that right now.

Perhaps that is why, once his breathing slows and he feels himself start to fade away into drowsiness that he turns in your lap and asks what he does.

“Can I stay?” he breathes, begging, looking up into your beautiful eyes. The plea is not full of lust, yet there is an open-endedness to it that he doesn’t hide, as his need for your comfort in any way you will give it to him is his prerogative. He cares for you far more that he dares to admit and cannot resist the pull of your soul to his, not tonight.

He watches your face carefully, seeing your brow furrow in the slightest and how you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. Propriety says you shouldn’t dare go there—you both know this—but at this point he’s not beyond batting his long lashes at you hopefully and a little mournfully.

“Oh, alright,” you finally concede, “but you need to be quiet as a mouse. I don’t know when Daddy will be home. And no funny business, Presley.” You point at him playfully, but there is a seriousness to your tone that makes him nod to give you reassurance. Exhaustion and moodiness cloud the way his heart wants to soar at this development of trust between you two, but he is too worn out to even muster a joke about the situation. That and he admires you too much to do anything that might jeopardize your blossoming friendship.

And with that settled, he raises from his all too comforting position in your lap. Much to his dismay, he’s unsteady on his feet, his attack having drained him of what little remaining energy he had, but you are quick to come to his side and walk him through the house to your room.

This doesn’t stop an unintentional tension from building, however, as you enter your room with him held close. He waits for you, wanting to follow your lead, wanting you to be comfortable, though he would just as soon collapse on your single bed without another thought.

You turn to him as though not exactly sure what to do next, your mouth opening then closing quickly, and he suddenly wants to kiss you so damn badly it’s painful. But it’s not the first time he’s felt that way in your presence, and probably won’t be the last, but then again, it never has been just the two of you alone in your bedroom before.

“I…I’ll be right back, I’m just going to…to go change,” you stammer, grabbing what is likely a nightgown out of your dresser. “Um, make yourself comfortable.” Then you escape into the hallway beyond, and he can’t help the little smile that plays at his lips in your wake.

He takes the moment alone to remove his coat and jacket and slip off his shoes and socks, folding them neatly at the end of the bed. He hesitates for a moment with his shirt and pants, but as emotionally wrought as he is, all he can think of is the calm feeling of being near you and ends up stripping down to his boxers and undershirt. Figuring he can always put them back on if it eases your mind, he then sits on the edge of the bed and waits.

It's not long before you come back, clad in a pretty white nightgown with little blue flowers all over it, your hair all brushed out and face washed pink. His heart actually skips at the sight. You look gorgeous and he has to remind himself that’s not what he’s here for. He’s here for you, yes, but not in that way. Luckily, his exhaustion overrides that sort of thinking rather quickly—he’s not sure he could do much in this state, even if you wanted to. You shut the door quietly behind you, even though there is no one else home to hear.

The air in the room feels heavy with potential and he can sense your trepidation as you turn back towards him and sit near him on the edge of the bed. His body begins to drag with sleep, the comfort of your arms and your bed beckoning to him. Finally, he chooses to break the silence.

“I’m not going to hurt you...I would never do that. I promise I won’t touch you like that. I just want to—” he says softly.

“I know, Elvis,” you interrupt quietly, “It’s okay. I know.” And your eyes are so big and sweet and open to him that it nearly makes him want to start crying all over again. Part of him wishes he didn’t need you like this, that you didn’t have to see him in this moment of weakness, but part of him is glad it is you. It could only be you, really, that he would give this part of himself to, he realizes, though he’s not entirely sure why. It’s that strange, unspoken bond between you two that has lingered under the surface from the beginning. This almost unreasonable need to take care of each other even when it doesn’t always make sense.

Once you climb under the covers and invite him to join you, he falls in next to you faster than you can blink. The bed is small which doesn’t matter much since he instantly curls close into your side as you lay on your back, notching his head into your shoulder. He can smell the soap and cold cream on your skin, and he drapes his arm over your midsection as though he’s done it a million times before. You stiffen at the contact at first, but then he feels you relax, your head leaning onto his, eventually running your fingers soothingly over his arm.

Yes, this is what he needs, he thinks dreamily, feeling like he can finally breathe again. And it’s not long before he drifts off into a deep slumber, surrounded by your comforting scent and warmth.

It’s the gray early morning light peeking through your white curtains that has him stirring awake, and it takes him a good minute to figure out where he is and who he is with, a feeling he is all too used to considering how much he’s on the road. But waking in some seedy motel in the middle of Texarkana in the arms of some random chick from the night before is not anything like waking in your cozy little bed, your warm body pressed back into his.

There is a care here with you that he yearns for, positively aches for, but did not realize he wanted or needed until this very moment. He is surrounded by the sweet smell of your silky hair, the warm softness of your bare legs against his convincing him that everything about this situation is just right. In his sleepy, unthinking haze, he pulls you closer, spooning you tightly into him, thinking he could just stay here forever, blissfully unaware yet of why he shouldn’t do so.

Until his virile, 21-year-old body reminds him, that is.

Perhaps it is the drowsy little sigh that escapes your lips in the same moment you unconsciously wiggle back against him that does it. Suddenly, he is very much awake, in more ways than one.

A stupid, instinctually carnal part of him very much wants to lift the hem of your nightgown up higher than it is already bunched and slide himself right between your inviting, bare thighs and into your heat, and dear god, that thought has him unraveling himself from you quicker than lightning.

Aw, hell.

He rolls over and sits up too fast, forcing himself to think of anything and everything but how you are lying in that bed so invitingly near. He closes his eyes against the brightness of day and breathes a few deep breaths before reaching for his clothes at the end of the bed.

A lesser man might allow himself to slide back into that bed, but by god, he swore he wouldn’t touch you like that and he refuses to take advantage when you’ve been so good to him. This thought, more than anything, sobers him as he puts his clothes on.

“El…Elvis? Are you okay?”

Oh, the way your sweet little voice sounds all clouded with sleep has him biting his lip so hard he nearly draws blood.

“Yeah, baby, it’s all good. Go back to sleep, honey,” he whispers, finishing the buttons on his shirt as quick as he can.

The domesticity of this little scene coupled with the ache in his groin has every damn cell in his body wanting to get back in that bed, and maybe if it wasn’t you, he would. But it is you. And as desperately as he wants this, he respects you too much to let his hormones get the best of him.

So, before he can change his mind, he kisses the top of your head for a little too long, breathing in the scent of you one last time, then puts on his shoes, grabs his coat, and climbs out the window, escaping into the dawn.

Till I waltz again with you Just the way we are tonight I will keep my promise true For you are my guiding light

His thoughts drift to you all day. He doesn’t even want to change or shower because the smell of you still lingers on his clothes, on his skin. The unfamiliar feeling of being so well rested and content has him singing and smiling all day, prompting his mama to ask him, with a knowing eye, exactly where he was last night.

And this gets him thinking about how much he would love to wake up beside you every damn day if he could, how amazing that would feel, and about how maybe, just maybe, it’s possible that he can.

Ted is out of the picture, and it’s been long enough now that you’ve moved on through the heartbreak. You’ve even casually dated a little bit, though no one has seriously caught your eye.

But then there is Jack, who is still pining hopelessly over you, refusing to make a move. And Jack is one of his best friends. It wouldn’t be right to sweep you off your feet right out from under his nose. He knows he could do it, too, and not just because he’s cocky in his growing fame. After last night, he just knows somewhere deep in his soul that if he asked, you’d be his.

And he wouldn’t even consider it except now he’s had a taste of you, of your sweetness and your comfort and your care and goddamn it, your smell is still all over him.

Well, shit or get off the pot, Jack, he thinks, because I ain’t waitin’.

He works himself up into it, trying not to think about all the obstacles in the way, namely his career and how it’ll take him far away from you, but in this endorphin-fueled moment, none of that matters. Only you matter, that and how you make him feel like he’s on cloud nine and how now that he knows what it’s like to wake up next to you, he knows he wants that again and again for as long as possible.

In truth, if he’d stop long enough to really think on it, he’s known it for a long time.

He’ll catch you at the end of your shift tonight. He buys a bouquet of flowers and everything. Energy pulses through him all day, sending his fingers tapping and his legs bouncing so much that his mama tells him to go run it off. Junior and Gene and Red think maybe he’s lost his mind because he’s even more restless than usual.

Finally, after a full day of working himself up into a near frenzy, he jumps in the Caddy and heads to the diner, ready to make you his.

But when Elvis parks in front and looks through the window of the car and into the diner, he sees Jack has gotten there ahead of him. He sees Jack holding your hand and then kissing it, pulling you into the booth next to him. He sees the lovely way you blush and smile in response.

And then he watches as Jack pulls you into him for a long, lingering kiss on the cheek. The way your eyes flutter closed tells him all he needs to know.

Fuck.

He’s too damn late.

Jealousy roars through him as he sees his best friend touching you, touching you when it should be him, not Jack, doing so. He can’t help but feel the memory of your body pressed so perfectly against his just mere hours ago. At that, at the thought of never having that part of you ever again, Elvis’ heart breaks into little pieces. He rests his forehead against the top of the steering wheel, unable to look at the romantic little scene before him.

This is how it was always supposed to be, he tries to convince himself. It was always Jack who was pursuing you, not him. And the worst fucking part is that he knows that Jack can give you something he can’t: Jack can be there for you, stable and sure, with you in the same damn city every damn day.

He cares for you, but he knows that his career is taking him places you cannot follow. And it wouldn’t be fair of him to ask you to put your life on permanent pause for him, no matter how desperately he wants you, no matter how deeply he believes that there is something powerful drawing you two towards each other with every breath.

He cares enough for you that he realizes, at least for now, that he has to let you go.

Friendship it is, then.

My light, my light I will keep my promise true Till I waltz again with you

Elvis in 1956

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