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allmoshnobrain · 11 months ago

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 01 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 5,1k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, mxf sex, unprotected sex

✦ a/n: The epilogue's finally here! As I said before, I had to split it into a few parts because it turned out really long and I wanted to tie all loose ends lol I haven't finished writing it yet, but I'll try to keep posting twice a week. Many things will have changed in this, since it's set mostly in 1992. We will have some flashbacks, but I dated all the parts so it wouldn't get confusing. Hope you enjoy the read, feedback is welcome! ❤

December 31, 1991

San Francisco in December hit me with that familiar chill as soon as I stepped off the plane; I quickly slipped on my gloves and shrugged into my coat, letting out a sigh as the cold nipped at my nose and fogged up my breath. It felt weird being back after so long, back to the city where I'd lived, loved, and grown up all those years ago.

I’d bid farewell to San Francisco two years back when my art career started picking up steam, making the move to LA seem like the logical next step. Coming back to the city stirred up a pain that ran deep in my bones — a constant reminder of the happiness I once knew but could never quite recapture, a bittersweet flashback to all I'd experienced — and all that had slipped away.

Lars had invited friends and family for a massive bash at his vacation home, ringing in the end of the year and welcoming 1992 with a bang. I had a hunch the extravagant party had something to do with his recent divorce, after a rushed marriage which had barely lasted two years. He'd even sent his driver, Simon, to scoop me up from the airport.

It was a relief not to have to wrangle a taxi amidst the chaos of folks flying in for the last flights before New Year's Eve. Slipping into the Jaguar, I peeled off my sunglasses with a sigh; those shades had become my shield against being recognized in the last few months. Ever since I'd started doing TV gigs, getting spotted by strangers and paparazzi was becoming a regular thing. It came with the territory, sure, but sometimes, a girl just wanted a little peace and quiet.

"Good afternoon, Miss Burton," Simon greeted me with a smile as I hopped into the car, and I shot one right back at him. "Mr. Ulrich was really looking forward to your arrival."

"Thanks, Simon. Are the others already there?" I inquired, my gaze drifting out the window as we cruised away from the airport.

"Yes, Mr. Hammett and Mr. Newsted are. Mr. Hetfield will show up later; I'll swing back to get him after dropping you off. And Miss Summers won't be joining us."

I let out a sigh. Ever since Cliff had passed, Leanne had drifted away from the group, moving to another city and cutting most ties. She said it hurt too much to stick around — too many reminders of him . I got where she was coming from and harbored no hard feelings, but her absence had definitely put some distance between us over the years.

"Well, I'll have to shoot her a call later and wish her a Happy New Year," I mused absentmindedly. "Do you know if my aunt and uncle are gonna make it?"

"Yes, I'll pick them up later," Simon replied, earning a small smile from me. Despite Cliff's passing hitting us all hard, Aunt Jan and Uncle Ray had been a steady presence for me and the guys. They'd practically become like second parents to all of us over the years, always there in the Metallica routine, whether it was on the professional front or at family and friends' get-togethers.

It took us a bit to roll up to Lars' vacation home, a big old mansion tucked away in one of San Francisco’s most expensive neighborhoods, a far cry from the tiny house we used to live in back in the day. Simon pulled up at the main entrance; the door was wide open, and I caught a glimpse of the staff buzzing around, putting the final touches on the shindig. Judging by the crates of booze being unloaded, this was gonna be more than just a cozy New Year's bash with a few friends.

"Thanks for the ride, Simon," I said, grabbing my bag and popping open the car door. "Happy New Year."

"Happy New Year, Miss."

It didn't take me long to spot Lars; the moment I stepped into the foyer, there he was, barking orders to his assistant at lightning speed, champagne glass already in hand. I couldn't help but grin; classic Lars, hitting the booze before anyone else. He turned my way at the sound of my footsteps echoing on the polished floor, breaking into a smile as he strode over.

"Nore!" he exclaimed, pulling me into a bear hug. "I'm so stoked you made it."

"Hey, Lars," I grinned, returning the hug. It had been a hot minute since I'd seen him or any of the guys; 1991 had been a whirlwind for all of us, and work had pretty much consumed our lives at warp speed.

"How was the trip? Did Simon take good care of you?"

"Yeah, it was smooth sailing. Simon's a pro, always has been. But seriously, Lars, you shouldn't have him grinding away on the last day of the year."

"Oh, he's getting compensated handsomely for it, don't you worry. Hey, you remember your way around the house, right? Kirk and Jason are probably chilling in the sauna. Oh, Allie!" Lars called out to his assistant, a dark-haired girl who looked eager to please. "Got the guest list handy? Can you show our girl here where she'll be crashing tonight?" Allie nodded briskly, and Lars flashed me a smile, turning back to me. "Party kicks off at 9 PM, so I'm just tying up loose ends. Make yourself comfy, grab some grub if you're hungry, alright? Consider the place your own."

I trailed after Allie to my room, a fancy suite with a king-size bed that looked like it had never been slept in. Lars always had a flair for the extravagant, but Metallica's success in recent years seemed to have kicked that into overdrive; his new vacation house was straight-up lavish, with more rooms than I could count, a massive pool, a sauna, and even a private movie theater.

I decided to chill in my room until the party kicked off; as much as I was itching to catch up with everyone, I was straight-up wiped out. Lately, I'd been craving more time alone, away from the chaos of the ragers my friends used to live for. But hey, I knew we'd all cross paths eventually, and sure enough, when I finally made my grand entrance, one of the first faces I spotted was Kirk's, rolling in with James, who apparently had arrived while I was hiding out.

"Nore!" Kirk grinned, pulling me into a hug. I chuckled, hugging him back. "Damn, you're looking good!"

"Thanks, Kirk. It's all Lars' doing; he picked out the dress," I replied, nodding at the long red number I was sporting. I’d found it laid out on the bed in my room with a note telling me to rock it for the night. I eyed Kirk's suit, a slick navy number with gold accents. "You're looking sharp yourself."

"Yeah, that's all Lars' handiwork too. Dude's on a mission to throw the ultimate party. But hey, who am I to complain? There's champagne!" Kirk chuckled, clinking his glass against mine.

"Hey, Nore." I glanced up at the sound of his voice, meeting James' intense blue gaze. A faint smile tugged at my lips; being around him always stirred up a whirlwind of emotions that were hard to untangle. Love, sure, but also heartache. It stung, yet it felt oddly comforting. Like coming home.

"Hi, James," I greeted him softly. Kirk shot us a quick look.

“Well, I'm gonna go track down our host. Catch you guys later!" He excused himself. I watched Kirk saunter off, a slight jolt running through me as James' hand landed on the small of my back.

"Have you grabbed a bite to eat yet? Lars said you got here before me," he murmured, his voice low. I looked up at him, seeing his eyes scanning the crowd of guests, a champagne flute in his other hand.

"Not yet."

"Want me to snag something for you? Lars went all out with the spread this time."

"I'm good, James."

"Didn't drag your boyfriend along to the party?" he quipped, and I couldn't help but snort.

"What boyfriend?"

"That... Brian guy? I dunno, it's hard to keep up with all the dudes you've cycled through since we split," he remarked, a hint of irony dancing in his eyes. I furrowed my brow; was he joking or dead serious? It was getting tougher to read James these days.

"If you wanna know if I'm seeing someone, just ask," I shot back sharply. He let out a sardonic laugh and rolled his eyes. I held his gaze. "And what about your 'Nothing Else Matters' chick? She bailed on the party?"

"I ended things with her," he replied, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. "And I've told you that song wasn't about her."

"Then who was it about?"

"Do I really need to spell it out?" he growled, stepping closer. I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze head-on. James and I had been locked in this dance for a while now, his anger clashing with my pain like sparks flying. It didn't shock me that Kirk wanted no part of our little reunion.

"I'm gonna go track down Lars," I tossed back dryly before strutting off. I could practically feel James rolling his eyes as he polished off the rest of his champagne in one gulp.

I didn't cross paths with James again until much later, well after midnight had come and gone. We’d all gathered on the balcony to catch the fireworks, dishing out Happy New Year wishes and hugs left and right. When the crowd filtered back inside, I lingered behind, a cigarette dangling between my fingers as I stared up at the star-studded sky, grappling with the bitter irony that another year had kicked off without Cliff here to see it.

"I did wanna know, actually," a voice cut through the silence, jolting me. I turned to find James leaning against one of the pillars, his gaze fixed on me with a serious edge.

"What?" I murmured, my heart picking up its pace as he closed the gap between us.

"You said if I wanted to know if you were seeing someone, I just had to ask. And I did wanna know," he replied, so close now I could smell the booze on his breath.

"I'm not," I answered, and he grunted, satisfied, before pulling me into his arms, his lips finding mine.

He tasted like beer and tobacco, his lips moving against mine in a familiar dance, the echoes of an old tune. No matter how much time passed or how much it hurt, James and I always found our way back to each other.

"You know that song was about you," he murmured, his kisses trailing down my neck, his grip tightening on my hips as he pulled me closer, our bodies pressed together. "Do you really have to mess with me like this?"

I didn't answer; instead, I grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him back to me, his arms holding me tight as he kissed me with urgency, nipping at my lower lip. He wasn't holding back as he pushed me against the balcony railing, his hands hiking up the skirt of my dress, his touch igniting a fire in my belly.

"My room or yours?" I gasped against his lips.

"Does yours come with a bathroom?" he quipped, and I chuckled softly, nodding. "Figures. Lars always hooks you up with the best ones."

"Mine, then," I murmured, a faint smile playing on my lips.

We made our way up to my room, James guiding me through the labyrinth of hallways and rooms in the house with his hand in mine. The moment the door clicked shut behind us, his hands were back on me, pulling me close as his lips trailed hungrily along my neck, tugging at the straps of my dress.

"James, you're gonna wreck the dress..." I protested weakly, my fingers tangled in his hair. He grunted, yanking it down, and I heard a rip that probably meant the garment was already ruined anyway.

"I'll get you another one," he grumbled. "As many as you want."

With urgency matching his, I stripped off his shirt, a few buttons popping off and bouncing across the bedroom floor. Before I could even blink, he lifted me, depositing me on the bed and positioning himself over me. I kicked off my heels, sending them flying into some forgotten corner, releasing a low moan as he pressed against me, his arousal evident through the fabric of his pants. There was no time for calm contemplation, no room for hesitation or second-guessing if this was the right move; our desire for each other was insatiable, ravenous and desperate, and I felt it would consume me completely if we didn't satisfy it right then and there.

I sighed as his lips reclaimed mine, his hand tangled in my hair, gripping it firmly as I worked on unbuttoning his pants, easing them down. He pulled back for a moment, shedding the rest of his clothes before sliding off my panties, emitting a low groan as he entered me. I shut my eyes, clutching onto his arms tightly, my nails digging into his skin. He wasn't holding back; and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Look at me," he growled, his hand guiding my chin as he thrust into me, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body. I obeyed, meeting his gaze as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, my mouth slightly agape as I let out small, sharp moans. He shifted his hand to my neck, pressing his forehead against mine.

"James..." I moaned, my grip on his arms tightening as he picked up the pace, sending shivers down my spine. "James..."

"I wanna ruin you. You get that?" he growled, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body at his words. Of course, I got it. What were we if not each other's downfall? What more could I want than for him to consume me entirely, even if just for a moment? For all the pain and heartache to vanish, if only while he was inside me. "I want you to be mine, all mine, all mine... Fuck..." he buried his face in my neck as my climax washed over me, my body clenching around him, my legs wrapping around his hips, pulling him deeper. "Nore..." he groaned, his own release crashing over him, filling me completely as he continued to move until the intensity of his peak forced him to collapse onto me.

He rolled away, settling beside me, leaving a pulsating void inside me where pain and pleasure danced together in my womb and heart. I shut my eyes, focusing on steadying my breath, and let out a soft chuckle when I felt his lips on my neck, his arms pulling me close in a fleeting but genuine comfort.

"My girl..." he murmured against my ear, sending a delicious shiver down my spine. I'd lost track of how many times he'd called me that, but it never failed to stir something in me. "Why do you keep running from me? Don't you know I love you so?"

I opened my eyes, locking onto his gaze, a blend of longing and yearning reflected back at me. Nestling into his embrace, I placed a soft kiss on his lips, feeling his gaze soften into a tender warmth that sent tingles down my spine.

"I'm here now," I murmured, tracing my fingers gently over his face. He sighed, closing his eyes, intertwining our hands and pressing kisses to my palm, one, two, three times before pulling me close in a tight hug.

Peace hadn't been a frequent visitor in my life for a while, but in that moment, I found it. I'd always find my way back to James, and he'd always find his way back to me. That certainty coursed through my veins, leaving me feeling whole in a way I hadn't in ages.

The next day, we'd be back in the spotlight, the distance between us creeping back in like a toxic fog. But for now, on that night, I was content. I was at peace.

I was home.

September 28, 1986

The shrill ring of the phone pierced through the silence of the empty house, yanking me out of a deep slumber with a groan. I blinked, the heavy rain drumming against the bedroom windows registering in my foggy mind. Stretching out across the bed, I groped for James, only to remember he wasn't there; my boyfriend was off on tour with my cousin and my friends. That left just Leanne and me holding down the fort.

Dragging myself out of bed, my eyes still weighed down by sleep, I shrugged into my robe and slipped on my slippers before trudging out of the room, descending the stairs at a snail's pace. Flicking on the lights in the living room, I scowled at the clock — it wasn't even seven in the morning. This better be an important call, I grumbled inwardly. I was itching to crawl back under the covers.

"Hey," I mumbled, stifling a yawn and rubbing my eyes in an attempt to shake off the sleepiness.

"Hey, Nore," James' voice crackled through the receiver, but in my grogginess, I barely registered the tense undertone, so unlike his usual laid-back demeanor.

"Babe..." I murmured, another yawn threatening to escape. "I know you're in a different time zone, but it's way early here. I was out cold..."

"I'm sorry. I had to call," he replied, and this time, the strain in his voice didn't go unnoticed. I furrowed my brow, sinking down onto the couch beside the phone, suddenly wide awake.

"Is everything alright? Did something happen?"

"Yeah, something happened. Is Leanne there with you?"

"I think she's asleep. Why?"

"We had a crash," he said, and my heart clenched, a surge of unease and dread knotting my stomach. "We were on the road... Late at night. The driver lost control..."

My breath hitched, and in that instant, a sense of foreboding washed over me. Something felt off, deeply unsettling. It just didn't add up. I knew I should be getting this call from someone else. I knew my cousin; I knew Cliff would want to speak to me and Leanne directly, to break the news himself.

Like when he shared he was leaving Long Beach for San Francisco. Like when he announced he was joining Metallica. Like when he called to tell me Dave got booted from the band, or when he rang to say Metallica was wrapping up tour and he wanted me there for their first hometown gig after dropping the first album.

Something wasn't right.

"James," I whispered, my voice trembling, tears pricking at my eyes as if I already knew what he was going to say. "What happened to Cliff?"

January 1st, 1992

I jolted awake, my cheeks damp with tears that refused to cease flowing. I sighed heavily, my breath shaky, the early morning sunlight just beginning to seep through the curtains. James' arms were wrapped snugly around me, his breath warm against my shoulder as he softly snored.

That dream, again.

It always seemed to resurface whenever I was near James. Maybe my subconscious still linked him to that chilly morning, to that phone call that’d shattered any hope of happiness for the rest of that year and beyond. A call that tore a hole in the fabric of my world, leaving an ache in my heart that felt like it would never mend.

The call that had shattered my heart for good, leaving no chance of putting the pieces back together.

I carefully shifted James' arm away from me, slipping out of bed and heading to the bathroom. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I took in my tired blue eyes framed by dark circles, my brown hair tumbling in waves over my shoulders, and the red marks on my neck and collarbone left by James the night before. With a sigh, I opened the bathroom cabinet, my hands trembling slightly as I reached for the pills I knew would help ease my anxiety.

I lacked the courage to return to bed, so I nestled into one of the armchairs in the corner of the room, observing James' peaceful slumber as the daylight gradually filled the space. He stirred awake soon after, as if sensing my absence beside him, his eyelids fluttering before he groggily opened his eyes. With a puzzled frown, he reached out for the bed, only to find it empty, prompting him to scan the room. A sigh escaped him when he spotted me, a sense of relief washing over his features that tugged at my heartstrings.

"Bad dream?" he inquired, and I simply nodded in response. "You wanna hop back into bed?"

"I'd rather not risk slipping into another nightmare," I admitted, and he sighed, sitting upright.

"Well, I know a surefire way to keep you awake, if you're interested," he quipped, and I managed a shaky laugh. I much preferred this relaxed and caring version of James to the sarcastic and irritable one from the night before. "So, spill. What was haunting you this time?"

"The usual. That day," I murmured. It wasn't anything new; I'd replayed that nightmare countless times, and James was well aware. My demons weren't a mystery to us, but that didn't make them any less terrifying.

With a sigh, he got up and strolled over to me, scooping me up effortlessly, which elicited a surprised gasp from me. He carried me back to bed, settling me down beside him, his hand securing my waist while the other supported the underside of my thighs, lifting one leg and tucking it around his waist. I hugged him tightly, nuzzling into his chest. It was a brief moment of warmth and solace, a fleeting calmness that I knew would vanish as soon as the day kicked into gear and he walked out that door.

"Are you taking off today?" I whispered softly. I understood that once James and I dove back into our regular routines — fame, commitments, the whole mess — things would get complicated again. I'd lose him once more; I'd been through that too many times in the last few years to entertain any other outcome. But as long as we were together, there, shielded from everything else, he was mine. And I craved his presence. I craved his warmth.

"Do you want me to jet today?" he countered, and I shook my head no. He grumbled under his breath, the rumble vibrating against my cheek as I snuggled closer. "Then I'll hang tight. I suppose we can annoy Lars a bit longer."

"I'm too scared to doze off," I admitted weakly, grappling with the heaviness of my eyelids, which threatened to seal shut from exhaustion. James planted a kiss on the top of my head, gently stroking my hair.

"I ain't budging. If you slip into that nightmare again, I'll be right here when you wake up. Deal?" he whispered, and I nodded.

I knew that as soon as I drifted off, that same haunting dream would likely rear its ugly head. It was just one more cruel reminder of the growing chasm between James and me. It felt like we were broken, perpetually out of sync, and his nearness both healed and wounded me in equal measure. But in that moment, I was willing to bear the pain if it meant he'd stick by my side.

"I love you, Jamie," I murmured, and he sighed, pulling me close as my body surrendered to sleep.

"I love you too, Nore," his voice was the last thing I heard before drifting off.

February 18, 1992

The bouquet of red roses James had given me was beginning to droop, the once vibrant petals shriveling and browning with each passing day. Yet, the fragrance lingering in the air remained sweet and evocative, as if the flowers were still in full bloom.

I sighed as I ran a brush through my hair, eyeing the dress laid out on the bed for the evening bash. It was the launch party for the new TV network schedule I'd been hired for, and showing up was not just a courtesy but a must.

I hadn't crossed paths with James much since our time at Lars' getaway spot. His absence had become a familiar ache over the last few years, a kind of shield we'd unintentionally built between us over time. Yet, there was always that tiny flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he'd call out of the blue and bring back that sense of ease with his voice.

To my surprise, the phone did ring that day. I set the brush down on the vanity, hurriedly making my way to the bedside table to answer it, a rush of excitement coursing through me.

“Nore?” the voice on the other end wasn't James', but it still warmed my heart, prompting a smile to spread across my face as I sank back onto the bed, cradling the phone to my ear.

“Lea!” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of joy. “It's been too long! How've you been?”

“I'm great! And you?”

“Oh, you know. Just hanging in there. How's Joe?” I swiftly changed the subject. As much as I adored Leanne, I wasn't ready to spill my guts about how I was really feeling.

“Oh, he's doing fantastic. Actually, that's why I rang you up. We're getting married!” she announced, her excitement palpable, and I couldn't help but smile.

“Lea, that's incredible! When's the big day?”

“It's in August. We figured summer would be perfect. I'm calling to extend the invite; would you do me the honor of being one of my bridesmaids?”

I leaped up, my grin stretching wider across my face. Leanne and I had been thick as thieves since day one; seeing her so thrilled about tying the knot, and knowing she wanted me to be part of her big day, warmed my heart.

“Oh, absolutely!” I exclaimed, a bubbling laugh of joy and surprise escaping my lips. Lea chuckled in response, matching my excitement. “Thank you! I know it's going to be beautiful. Can you fill me in on all the details later?”

The rest of my day sparkled with newfound energy after the news; I even caught myself humming an old song as I finished getting dolled up for the evening bash, weaving my hair into an intricate hairdo my mom had insisted on teaching me.

When I finished getting ready, I checked myself out in the mirror, pretty pleased with the result; the dark blue spaghetti-strap dress hugged my curves just right, with the skirt flaring out at the waist and skimming down to my ankles. A dainty golden choker with crystals adorned my neck, and my long brown locks were styled to perfection, framing my face in all the right places, with my eyes sparkling, cheeks a touch flushed, and lips painted red.

But, of course, I couldn't roll up to an event like that on my own; right on the dot at 7 p.m., I heard the honk signaling my ride had arrived. I sauntered down the stairs, arching an eyebrow in surprise as I stepped outside and spotted the limo parked up front. My old friend Charlotte rolled down the window from the backseat, flashing me a big grin.

“Hey, Nore!” she chirped as I slid into the car, handing over a glass of champagne, which earned a soft chuckle from me. “Ready to rock?”

“I guess I’m a bit jittery. First time going to a party like this one,” I admitted. Now that I was on my way, the thought of facing a swarm of photographers and journalists at the event’s entrance was making me more nervous than I cared to admit, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it.

“Well, it's gonna be a blast, trust me! Everyone who's anyone will be there. I'll be your wingwoman, so don't worry about a thing. I'll make sure you rub elbows with all the big shots you haven't bumped into yet during the shoots.”

I nodded, taking a bit of champagne to settle my nerves, the bubbles dancing on my tongue and momentarily diverting my attention. If my acting career was taking flight now, it was all thanks to Charlie; she'd been the driving force behind my return to the scene after I’d graduated High School, persuading me to switch gears from the Visual Arts program up in San Francisco to Drama School down in Los Angeles, and had even helped me snag my first TV gig.

I'd recently jumped into acting over at the same TV network where Charlotte had been working as an actress for a while. Even though I hadn't wrapped up recording my first project yet, the buzz around a relatively unknown actress snagging the lead in the latest drama series had caught the media’s attention. In just about a year, my life had changed completely, going from being just another face in the crowd to even having paparazzi tail me. But truth be told, I was still getting the lay of the land at the network. Charlie had hit the nail on the head; this party was prime time to make some connections.

We rolled up to the party spot; I soon realized that navigating through the sea of photographers and reporters on that red carpet was no joke. But once I got past the Q&A, which mostly revolved around my work and career, it was time to get down to business. Charlotte ushered me into conversations with all sorts of folks: actors, musicians, executives, and even some of the network's shareholders. It hit me quick that networking at these parties was just as much a part of the job in the entertainment industry as being good at your craft.

The hours zoomed by amid chats, laughter, drinks, and nibbles. Soon, I was feeling drained and decided to grab a bite from the buffet before taking a breather. As I was fixing my plate, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around, expecting it to be Charlie, ready to introduce me to someone new.

Never in a million years could I have guessed what awaited me in the next few seconds.

"Nore... Is that really you?" the man exclaimed, looking utterly astonished, and suddenly I was eighteen again, my heart racing in completely uncontrollable pirouettes as my breath hitched, my surprised gaze meeting his, the world filling with color and song as I stared into the eyes of Dave Mustaine.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope

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driftingmoonmenace · 5 months ago

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☀️Menace's FNAF OC Masterpost 🌑

⚠️This post is now irrelevant and out-dated!!! All of my DCA OCs have been moved over to my sideblog @fallingsuperstars!!⚠️

The ☄️Falling Stars AU☄️was made specifically for all of my FNAF characters to exist within the same universe! The main plot of the AU ties them all together, but each of them also has their own separate sub story/plot arc!

QUICK DISCLAIMER: I'm cool with fan art and writing! Feel free to draw or write my character(s) interacting with your sona/character/self Insert/AU DCA! I'm also ok with them having silly flirting/simping/suggestive innuendo interactions, however please do not ship them or do anything NSFW with them as it makes me uncomfortable. Thank you for understanding!! ✌️

🏷️ Main AU Tag → #falling stars au 🌎 World-Building / Lore Google Doc

[Last Updated: 09/15/2024]

🃏 Paradox [Eclipse] [He/Him]

Paradox is a newer DCA sub-model with a singular AI that has aspects of both Sun and Moon coded in, making him an ‘Eclipse’ of sorts. Initially he wasn’t intended to be used for the Superstar Daycare, but was substituted in at the last second due to complications. He also doubles as nighttime security.

Paradox adores children, but heavily dislikes adults because of their constant mistreatment towards him. (Rude adults are given day-ruining tricks and pranks.)

He was assigned a handler to keep him in line as a last resort because of the numerous complaints from parents. If he fails to improve he’ll be decommissioned.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

🧨 Sol [Sun] [They/He]

Sol is a miniature Sun model designed to be kid-sized and was part of a kid-tested program that failed, along with their counterpart Lune.

They are now used as assistants for human daycare workers for when the daycare is understaffed or near full capacity. Mostly used as entertainment for the kids rather than for care taking, but they do have a few caretaker processes in their coding. They are kept in the castle tower room for a majority of the time unless they’re needed or to clean the daycare at night.

Sol is tired of being kept stored away until needed and wants to make a plan to escape their pizzaplex somehow.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

💤 Lune [Moon] [They/Them]

Lune is a miniature Moon model designed to be kid-sized and was part of a kid-tested program that failed, along with their counterpart Sol.

Lune isn't a fan of their circumstances, just like Sol, but is weary about Sol's plan to escape. They're always trying to talk them out of it. They do their best to keep a sense of optimism to calm Sol from doing something they might regret.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

🤡 Toodles [Clown] [He/Him]

Toodles is an entertainment animatronic made specifically for pizzaplex party rooms and is based off of a porcelain clown doll. He's child-sized with an LED screen face and has a compartment for holding balloons and an inner air pump to make balloon animals.

His duties are to entertain parties, help set up the party rooms, deliver cakes and goodies, escort groups to their rooms, clean up the party rooms, etc. in between the Glamrocks and the DCA appearances.

Despite his cheerful nature around families, he absolutely despises kids and his job. He's not on the best of terms with the other animatronics in his pizzaplex either, and prefers to cause mischief for them.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

🔥 Nova [Sun] [He/Him]

Nova is a newer single AI Sun model made to be a Daycare Attendant, along with his counterpart Lumi.

Nova and Lumi were very successful at their daycare with raving reviews for quite a few years. Though one night while they were both charging, Nova completely disappeared without a trace.

He had been transported to a completely different pizzaplex located several states away due to a business decision by FazCo. to try and boost sales, popularity, and review ratings for the struggling plex.

He currently runs the Superstar Daycare on his own with the help of human workers until FazCo. sends a replacement Moon counterpart. He misses Lumi dearly and wants to find a way back to him.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

💧 Lumi [Moon] [He/Him]

Lumi is a newer single AI Moon model made to be a Daycare Attendant for a pizzaplex, along with his counterpart Nova.

Lumi and Nova were very successful at their daycare with raving reviews for quite a few years. Though one night while they were both charging, Nova completely disappeared without a trace.

Lumi has no idea where Nova has gone, and every night since his disappearance he has searched the computer database and entire pizzaplex from top to bottom to try to find any clues.

He keeps up a happy facade with everyone while taking care of the daycare by himself, but inside he's withdrawn and utterly devastated that Nova may have been decommissioned.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

🏍️ Equinox [Eclipse] [He/Him]

Equinox is an older dual AI model that was made for the Fazbear Theater.

The franchised pizzaplex he was a part of financially went under and FazCo. ordered to have all the animatronics decommissioned. However, a befriended technician helped him make a risky, yet successful, escape. The whole experience caused his Sun and Moon to make the decision to remain as an Eclipse permanently.

He, along with the now ex-Fazbear technician, decided to kickstart their plan to rescue other animatronics from the same fate and set up a base of sorts out in the Mojave desert.

Equinox travels the country targeting FazCo. locations and rescuing the animatronics inside to take them back to his base.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

💻 Umbra [Moon] [He/Him]

Umbra is a newer single AI Moon model made to be a Daycare Attendant for a pizzaplex. However due to his lackluster performance with the children, he was switched to nighttime security instead.

He spent a lot of his time monitoring the cameras and pinging other animatronics to locations to take care of things due to his shy nature. He also had a knack for hacking into restricted parts of the computer system for amusement and giving himself internet access.

This continued for several years until his pizzaplex went under, and his Sun was sadly decommissioned in the process, which he doesn’t forgive himself for. During that time Equinox targeted his pizzaplex and managed to rescue him in time.

Umbra now joins Equinox on missions and helps hack into the computer systems of targeted FazCo. locations and takes care of anything technology related.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

☣️ Orion [Sun] [He/Him]

Orion is the Sun half of an older dual AI model (his Moon half being Oberon) and he was made for the Fazbear Theater. He’s superhero themed and played as the ‘hero’ during performances, though after some time was switched to being a Daycare Attendant.

After the switch, he started to slowly notice random glitches in his coding. They started small and infrequent, not causing much issue with their work. However, it got worse over time to a point where whenever he and Oberon would switch in and out, their systems would crash and leave them in a paralyzed state.

A small ‘quarantine’ patch was placed on Orion to keep his coding suppressed and in a pseudo-comatose state, leaving him trapped within their shared mind-space. He’s able to have short, sometimes incoherent, conversations with Oberon whenever he’s ‘conscious’ before going ‘unconscious’ again.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

⚔️ Oberon [Moon] [He/Him]

Oberon is the Moon half of an older dual AI model (his Sun half being Orion) and he was made for the Fazbear Theater. He’s supervillain themed and played as the ‘villain’ during performances, though after some time was switched to being a Daycare Attendant.

After the switch, he started to notice small glitches in Orion’s coding, and was adamant he get it checked out, but Orion told him it was fine since it wasn’t causing much issue with their work. However, it got worse over time to a point where whenever he and Orion would switch in and out, their systems would crash and leave them in a paralyzed state.

After the patch was put on Orion, Oberon was given a visor to help keep the light sensor from activating the AI switch protocol and scheduled to get a newer separate Sun model to replace Orion instead of fixing him.

Oberon escaped the pizzaplex not long afterwards with the help of Equinox and Umbra, and now joins them on missions while simultaneously searching for a way to fix Orion.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

💥Oblivion [Eclipse] [He/Him]

Oblivion is the Eclipse of Orion and Oberon. He played as an ‘anti-hero’ during special rare performances, and after the switch to being a Daycare Attendant the two continued to rarely switch into Oblivion.

It’s later discovered that Orion’s glitches are because of a virus, and during an event that causes Orion and Oberon to switch into Oblivion said virus is given an opportunity to run rampant. The malicious virus corrupts Oblivion, causing him to become extremely volatile and bloodthirsty.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

🎀 ASTRA [Sun] [She/Her]

Astra is a newer single AI Sun sub model.

Not much is known about her other than she may have been a scrapped design. She never got to officially work in her pizzaplex despite how complete she was, and spent a lot of her time down in the basement levels stored away.

She has wing attachments that may have been designed for when she’d use a wire that she occasionally wears.

She was found by Equinox when he targeted her pizzaplex and was taken in. She has a very bubbly, cheerful, and cutesy nature, though she’s ready, and oddly excitable, to fight if the situation calls for it.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

🎤 SELENE [Moon] [She/Her]

Selene is a newer single AI Moon sub model that was made to be a show performer in Fazcade.

She mostly monitors the Fazcade, heavily focusing on the karaoke rooms and DJ Music Man’s area. Though she also does small singing performances on DJMM’s stage from time to time or does karaoke with the guests. She has a Sun counterpart that does show performances with the Glamrocks on the main stage. However, the two rarely interact much as Selene is kept strictly in the Fazcade.

Selene enjoys singing ballads the most and has a calm, soft nature.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

💋 DIOR [Sun] [They/She/He]

Dior is a newer single AI Sun model that was made as a performer at the Fazbear Theater with their Moon counterpart. Both of them put on very successful performances for several years.

An unfortunate event with their Moon counterpart left Dior traumatized, and soon afterwards they were scheduled to be transferred to another pizzaplex. During transport they managed to escape and fled. Traveling frequently to avoid getting caught and doing unsavory things to survive. They’ve gotten mods here and there over time to help them survive and help ‘be their own being’ outside of the ‘FazCo branding’.

They’ve picked up a bad smoking habit, enjoying the ritual of it when they’re stressed. They're also very into fashion and makeup. Dior is very cynical, temperamental, and bratty though they play up a sweet, flirtatious nature to get what they want.

Equinox, Umbra, and Oberon found Dior on the streets during their travels and took them in.

🖼️ Reference - 📝 Full Bio - 🏷️ Tag - 🎵 Spotify Playlist

#menace oc #falling stars au

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ageofnations · 2 years ago

Text

Table For Two - Part Thirteen

In collaboration with @welightthefire

Jake Kiszka x OC x Josh Kiszka

Summary: “What started out as a new job unexpectedly became something more for Sydney Baker. There’s only room at the table for two… How will she navigate her feelings and come to a decision? How can she choose between two sides of the same coin?”

Warnings: angst, anxiety, tiny bit of platonic fluff (let us know if we should add anything)

Word Count: ~5.4k

taglist // playlist // masterpost

A/N: thanks for being so patient with us and we hope we can make it up to you!

Part Thirteen

The view that stretched out before him resembled something like that of a nature documentary he had found himself time and time again mindlessly watching at three in the morning. The vast canopy of verdant fauna seemed to roll in waves across the dips and rises in the valley below. The sun was blinding, illuminating everything in its wake in a grand display of color.

As the heels of his boots sunk into the rocky earth beneath his feet, he let his eyes wander further. His gaze spanned the width of the rocky ledge that jutted out before him, stopping once they landed on her figure. Her bare toes threatened to curl around the jagged edge of the basalt as her long hair swept in the soft breeze behind her. The sun shone directly over her bare legs, the tanned hue of her complexion somehow glowing as she bathed in the light. He couldn’t help the shiver that crept its way along his spine when he noticed the denim fabric hanging off her shoulders.

His chest hurt as he watched her motionless form gaze out over the sight before her. Her body language was the epitome of peace and grace, yet the soulful connection he had formed with her over the past months led him to feel her inner conflicts.

Jake knew she was beating herself up and he hated that he couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch as her arms moved to wrap around her middle and her thumb twisted against the ring on her index finger. He could feel her anxiety and her sorrow, her remorse and her regret, her confusion and uncertainty just as if they were his own emotions, and in a way, they were.

He wanted to hold her, kiss her. He wanted to reassure her that everything would work itself out, that it would be fine. That one way or another, they could figure it out together.

But he couldn’t. The marks embedded in the dirt from his weight seemed to ground him, glue him to that one spot. His pulse raced as he watched her fingers trail up along the path of passion left on her breast up towards the sweet spot behind her ear. A place where she couldn’t see but remained a reminder of the early hours they shared together, wrapped up in each other’s limbs.

In the distance, he could hear the piercing call of an eagle cut through the sound of the wind blowing through the trees. Then, that same breeze, it kissed the bare skin of his arms in such a way that it caused his flesh to crawl. There was darkness amidst the light, greater than any feeling shared along the invisible red string between the two.

He wasn’t welcome here.

No matter how beautiful, how heavenly, how wondrous this escape to nature was, he couldn’t shake the horrible feeling that was burrowing itself deeper inside his gut. There was an inescapable dread that threatened to climb up his throat and escape his lips in a silent scream.

Something was wrong.

Maybe it was his presence in such a beautiful place, somehow tainting the air around him. Perhaps him being there was the reason Syd stood as still as a statue while her mind ran rampant.

He wished he could be the lighthouse in her harbor, the anchor that weighed her down and kept her at the shore. The terrors she was feeling inside… He wished nothing more than to take them away so she could find peace.

But that was all it was.

Wishful thinking.

Before he had even realized it, he found the familiar hum buzzing along his throat as his voice carried across the space between them. “Slip.”

Jake took a few short steps towards her, his dark irises eyeing her intently as her shoulders fell from their tense position. He swore he saw the apple of her cheek swell from his viewpoint, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Baby, please,” he pleaded, not stopping his footfalls until he was right behind her. Close enough to touch, but he wasn’t brave enough. Her broken emotions that seemed to flicker like a picture show through his mind held him back.

As she abruptly turned her head to face him, the familiar aroma of vanilla lifting up towards his senses, clouding his mind in unbridled comfort. For just a moment, her eyes held a certain kind of sadness, one of longing for a lost lover.

He wished her expression would fall, change into something brighter. He wished a meek smile would turn the corners of her lips upward, but they stayed.

“Jake,” she breathed with tears evident in the glossy coat that caused her eyes to sparkle in the late-afternoon sunlight.

“Hi, baby,” he smiled sadly, his own tears silently creeping over the defined structure of his cheekbones.

It hurt him to see her like this and to know that he couldn’t take it away. There wasn’t anything he could think of to do, except to exist there within her presence.

He watched as the tension lifted from her shoulders once more and she began to relax under his gaze. It was for only a second that her arms fell to her sides before they were wrapped around her torso once more.

“I miss you,” he spoke, hesitantly, fearful that if he said too much, he would scare her away.

Make her leave again.

Her silence was deafening as she opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, seeming to try and find the words that wouldn’t come out. She stuck out her tongue and swiped it along the plane of her plump lower lip, intaking a deep sigh after what seemed like hours but was only mere moments before her body crashed against his like a tidal wave.

‘I miss you,’ Syd’s voice sang through the creases and crevices in his brain, sending neurons firing left and right at the sound. ‘I’m here. You don’t have to miss me, because I’m here.’

Her arms snaked around his neck as she pushed herself up on her toes to press her chest flush against his. The floral scent of her shampoo intoxicated him as his nose kissed the hollow of her cheek. Her action froze any and all attempts at a reaction from him towards the embrace that she was holding him in so tightly. It was all he could do to steady their bodies by holding firmly to her waist.

As the pair stood there, Jake’s breath grew uneven and staggered. He wished he could feel at peace in this beautiful place with her. He wished he could take away all of the hurt and sorrow he knew she was feeling inside, but was too proud to admit to.

He couldn’t help but feel as though this was some sort of goodbye. His chest hurt, overflowing with his own pain. A dark and twisted kind of emotion that snaked and constricted tighter and tighter as it threatened to suffocate him completely. The feeling wasn’t panic. In fact, it was something else entirely.

It was the fact that he felt her slipping away from him. Her voice in his head was nothing but a wishful response to what he wanted her to say.

Needed her to say.

Jake couldn’t imagine a day without her shy smile filling a room, her witty remarks stunning him into silence, the soft touch of her fingertips against his arm a gentle reminder that she was there. After so many moments in time where they found themselves together, they had gotten to the point where they could share themselves unabashedly.

So much work, so many memories.

Little conversations that turned into special blips of mind space stored away to find happiness within the melancholy.

The tears slid down his cheeks in a slow trickle, losing themselves within the strands of her dark hair. He didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t know how to make her stay. There was an innate fear deep within him that any word spoken about that morning would cause her to flee like an unsuspecting deer caught in a field.

So he kept quiet, kept his thoughts at bay.

But someone else couldn’t help it.

“Why?” The raspy voice sounded, coming from neither Jake nor Syd. It was Josh.

Jake could feel his twin’s eyes boring holes into the back of his skull. It caused a feeling of unease to arise in his chest, ceasing the constriction but heightening the pressure. It was a wonder why Syd couldn’t hear his heart begin to pound, and if she did, she didn’t let on. Josh was watching them, observing their embrace, scrutinizing their intimacy.

The grip he had on Syd’s waist tightened as he paused his breathing, waiting for his brother’s words that would never come. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Syd’s body shift, her torso bumping against his as she rose to stand on her tiptoes. Jake choked back a whimper as Josh spoke again.

“Why?” He repeated. “Why, why, why-?”

Jake could feel the hair on the back of his neck stand on end at the chilled, dead tone of his brother’s voice. He didn’t have to turn to see the man staring, not at them, but almost through them. The visual of Josh displayed clearly in his mind.

Usually tan, glowing skin gone pale.

Warm, chestnut eyes grew dark and cold.

Bouncy curls fell flat.

Tall, confident shoulders sunk low, defeated.

Yet, Jake still felt threatened. Syd could see them both and he knew she was watching Josh from over his shoulder. The shift of her shirt against his didn’t go unnoticed by him.

He could feel her bury her head into his neck, her shoulders shaking just enough to indicate that she was crying. The gesture only made him feel that much more intimidated by his brother’s presence. It seemed as if this were the end of the hug he had quickly lost himself in. As if her movement foreshadowed her impending departure. He felt as if she was letting him bask in her presence while he still could, crying only because of the pain she would cause.

“You can leave, if you need to,” he croaked out, voice hoarse as he tried to keep his composure. He didn’t want her pity, not if it meant she suffered in the meantime.

Still, she shook her head. And for reasons he couldn’t understand, she clutched onto him tighter.

“You can,” he insisted. As much as it hurt him to let her go a second time, he would do it a million times over if it was what made her happy.

He had heard that dreams were the mind’s way of processing things. Preparing for possible situations, accepting that which has passed. And with that knowledge, he made his decision. He’d fully lean into what was to come. What had already happened.

He’d accept the fact that he lost her. He’d come to terms with a reality that was just as bitter on his tongue as the name of any of his past lovers. He would let her leave.

And with Josh’s voice becoming clearer and clearer, more dangerous and disgusted, it felt as if her departure would arrive sooner rather than later. Her fingers twisted into the fabric of Jake’s t-shirt the moment Josh’s open palm connected with his brother’s shoulder.

In an instant, Jake’s arms tightened around Syd’s frame to keep her pressed flush against his as the earth fell out from beneath their feet. As her eyes widened with surprise but not with fear, they descended through the free fall.

Together.

—

It had been two weeks…

Two weeks of living in the confines of his wandering mind, spinning in circles as if he were a lost puppy in search of its favorite human. There was a sense of listlessness as Jake went through his days, repeating the same old actions from muscle memory.

He would wake up to the sound of his alarm blaring a monotonous tone, but instead of getting up once it was silenced, he would lay there staring at the ceiling as images of Syd danced before him. Jake spent his mornings longing for her, imagining what more he could have done to make her stay.

Each moment, every memory of her, replayed in his mind like an old home movie. The bittersweet sense of nostalgia creeping in and anchoring him down into his mattress as the weight of wonder sat heavily atop his chest.

That first fateful encounter on the curb out behind the diner while her dark lashes glistened in the orange light.

When Syd slipped and fell in the diner and earned herself a special nickname, cheeks painted red from embarrassment while a silly grin turned her lips upward.

The car ride home from Green’s when she kept drunkenly repeating her address aloud to him in between giggles as if she would forget it.

The morning after she spent the night and Jake played and sang her the song he wrote, and she sat there soaking up every moment with wide, adoring eyes.

When they danced in her kitchen so gently, it was as if neither of them were moving a single muscle.

And the morning before everything went to shit, when he laid there soaking up all of her and traced swirls and loops along the surface of her skin with his calloused fingers.

It all seemed like ages ago.

As the days turned into a week and that week turned into another, he seemed to live through those little moments in time before things changed. He’d rather be there than in the hell he was currently living in.

The diner was dull without her bustling around, yet the elephant in the room added a layer of tension that was seemingly unavoidable. Occasionally, he’d still look for her when he placed an order in the window, anticipating to see her trotting to retrieve it with a smile on her face. Instead, it was always his little brother, and Jake only hoped he understood why his expression would fall. He seemed to be the only one that was hopeful of her return.

Josh was much quieter nowadays. His laughter and boisterous attitudes were now stamped out by anger. He was quiet, only responding when absolutely necessary, sometimes even going out of his way to relay messages through Sam instead of talking directly to his twin. Jake tried to not take it personally, but deep down, he loathed the situation. He hated how something so trivial could alter his brother’s spirit, and ultimately, change their relationship completely. He wished he could find the same resentment that Josh had, the bitterness evident in each corner of his demeanor.

That bitterness that resided until Josh saw her. The new girl with the shorter, dark curls that had been hired on to take Syd’s place. The girl who was doing everything she could to fit in but seemed to be a ghost of her predecessor. Even some of her features resembled Syd’s. From the soft slope of her nose to the small stature she stood and many small things in between. She was wonderful at her job, great with customers, kind and charismatic, but just not Syd.

It was enough for Josh, though. He had latched on to her as soon as she was hired, greeting her each day with a warm and welcoming smile. Carrying on conversations anytime they were near, much unlike the niceties he’d grant his brothers. He seemed to have an easier time at work because of her - able to forget everything that had transpired and gotten his brother and him to where they are now - just because of her.

But Jake couldn’t forget. He didn’t want to forget.

Sam seemed to be doing everything he could to juggle the questions and suspicions that Jake would present to him. Anything that pertained to Syd in the least bit - concerns about her wellbeing, inquiries of her current situation, attempts to know more about her - were all returned with vague responses and nonchalant answers.

“Is she okay?” Jake had asked, desperate for any information he could squeeze from his brother. He had seen her image flash across the screen of Sam’s phone mid-shift, and the sound rang through the diner before he had rushed outside to take the call in a more private area. As soon as he returned, though, that need for privacy was disregarded.

Sam sighed. “Jake, I already told you-.”

“No, you told me that she’d be fine. Not that she was okay, not that she was safe, nothing.” Jake followed him as he weaved through the area. “You won’t give me any more than that?”

He didn’t flinch. He didn’t return any indication that he had even heard Jake’s questioning. He simply carried on with his tasks.

“Sam, seriously, this is getting ridiculous-”

“I think you have a few orders you need to work on, don’t you?”

His words were cold, unrelenting - avoiding the discussion at hand. He paid no mind to the anguish that was laden in his brother’s tone. He seemed to only care about the measly duties that the diner provided as a distraction.

What Jake didn’t know, is that it was quickly becoming just as hard for Sam as it was for his brothers. He had spent months accustomed to seeing his best friend essentially every day. Months of inside jokes and teasing, ranting and gossiping, all replaced by the occasional text or phone call.

Of course, he found it difficult to avoid the slew of questions that Jake came to him with, but in reality, Sam knew much less than the others thought he did. Syd talked to him some, but not nearly as often as she would before. He could only assume she was trying to save him from the burden of her secrets.

She had told him about the new job she had landed, the bookstore that she had frequented on the other side of town. After texting Danny and apologizing for the such short notice of her resignation, she had immediately searched for another job to occupy her time. Sam knew that once she arrived and presented herself for recruitment, the owner hired her on the spot. Sam knew that she still lived at the same address - not minding the extra distance to travel for work nowadays - but that was all.

He didn’t know how she felt detached from her new reality. How nothing seemed right to her anymore. How she had to force herself to become familiar with this new routine, and how she moved through her days as if she were a robot, programmed to live through the hell she had made for herself.

Her work schedule looked different now, her shifts now taking place every morning of the week. One might’ve complained about such a transition, but for Syd, less time to herself was seen as a gift.

She would come home to cuddle up to Delta, who always seemed privy to the situation and change in her demeanor, and cycle through whatever she could find to distract herself with. Within minutes of watching a new movie, she’d find herself thinking back to Josh’s fascination with film and Jake’s gesture of constructing the pillow fort for their movie night - eventually having to abandon the activity altogether. Reading was never the same, the consideration of Josh’s potential interests in the book caused a turn in her stomach and pain in her heart.

Even the simple hobby of listening to music was different now. Instead of the song at hand, she would only hear Jake’s soft strumming and singing. She even felt herself rocking back and forth as they had in her kitchen, the movement both comforting and agonizing.

To say that she missed them was an understatement. She was consumed by the sense of longing left by her thoughts and memories with them. Although her first and last interactions with Josh were less than sweet, she cherished everything their relationship had blossomed to become. They bonded over quirks and shared interests, and eventually grew to the point where they relished in the company of one another. Josh pushed her limits. He pushed Syd out of her comfort zone to find the beauty outside of her normal routine. He encouraged the pursuit of spontaneity, and his presence was her reward.

But Jake. Jake’s presence was her solace.

Jake was the embodiment of acceptance, of home. He had shown interest in knowing her, and in learning everything that made her unique. As she opened up to him - allowed him in the depths of her worries and anxieties - he welcomed her with no judgment. He pulled her in and surrounded her with love and intrigue. And that’s what she missed the most.

How different they were, despite their similarities. The push and pull. Yin and yang, day and night.

With both, an offer of friendship and intimacy, but a requirement of choice. And how could one choose between the sun and the moon?

As obvious as her choice should have been, she couldn’t bring herself to hurt one by choosing the other. It seemed irrational to her, to reject Josh because of the possibility of there being more with her and Jake. It wasn’t reasonable to deny the obvious feelings she had garnered for the eldest, simply because of her infatuation with his counterpart. But in a way, not choosing was a decision in itself. A decision that led her here. To be alone and hurting.

She had no one.

Occasionally, she considered what she could be doing with her time if she had made the choice she had longed to make in the beginning. She imagined how her nights of working at the diner would play out, stealing kisses and glances when she could. She could envision nights full of teasing and taunting each other, playful banter and innocent touches. Carpooling to work to “save gas” when deep down it was just another excuse to see one another. Coming back to either apartment and unintentionally falling asleep together, waking in the morning to do it all over again.

If she had only made that choice, she’d be in his arms Sunday morning instead of trudging along at work. A folded-up piece of notebook paper weighed heavy in her pocket, a reminder of what could be.

As Syd stood amongst the musty bookshelves in the shop, boxes of inventory scattered around her, she looked over her shoulder to find her boss busy at the desk working on the computer. The quiet man wouldn’t mind if she took a few moments to give in to her curiosity, right?

She pulled the note out and fingered the corner of the page that was left on her doorstep just that morning. Her name was scrawled across the front in Jake’s hand, written in dark ink that was smudged just slightly. She had found it resting on the doormat when she had fumbled and dropped her keys while trying to keep Delta from escaping the confines of her home.

The instant recognition of his handwriting struck a sense of irrational fear into her core and she swiftly shoved it into the pocket of her jeans in hopes of forgetting about it. However, that wasn’t the case. As the minutes turned into hours, creeping by at a snail’s pace, the flimsy piece of paper burned a hole through the denim.

She couldn’t get the thought of it out of her mind. The contents of the note were unknown to her, but held the promise of closure. The words he had written were from the heart, regardless of what they were. She could feel the embossed imprint of his heavy hand from where he filled the page as she rubbed her thumb over the blank back of the lined sheet.

If she could close her eyes and separate herself from where she stood, for just a moment, she could imagine watching him from afar while he scrawled the words onto the paper and folded it carefully.

In her mental image of him, she could see him chewing on his bottom lip, an obvious sign of the anxiety and fear he was desperately trying to hold in. She could see his trembling hands, him wiping his sweaty palms on the fabric of his pants and getting frustrated by how clammy they felt. She could see a bouncing leg, the movement shaking the knick-knacks on the surface of the desk.

But she could also see tears in his eyes, threatening to fall with every blink, and although it was only her imagination, her heart yearned to be there with him. To hold his hands in hers as she knew he would if it were the other way around. To rub soothing circles along his skin. To wipe his tears and hold him close.

But would he want her to? Maybe he was writing his final words to her. Maybe this note was his goodbye, his acceptance of how things panned out and finalizing the end of whatever relationship the two had nurtured to this point. Maybe this note would be her last memory of him. She was unsure of what to anticipate.

Syd hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her lungs began to burn. She took a sharp breath and peeked over her shoulder at her boss. He still sat at the same spot behind the desk, busying himself with whatever task was in front of him. With shaking hands and a lip sucked between her teeth, she opened the letter to reveal its truth.

“Syd,

I couldn’t leave, and I don’t see how you did it. You left without a word, without even the slightest glance. I know you felt like you had to, like everything was falling apart and you had to run before it all caved in on you. I know you felt hopeless, alone. But you weren’t. You aren’t. And I wish you would’ve just stayed, Syd. I wish you would’ve let me tell you that before you let your thoughts get the best of you.

I hope you’re okay.

You won’t answer my calls and I’m so fucking scared. I hoped you would at least tell me where you went. I hoped you would tell me that you’re okay. I need you to be okay.”

As she read, she could hear his gravelly tone echo in her mind as he spoke the words. Even though she was standing there reading and analyzing his writing, all along he had been observing her, learning her. A sharp pang shot through her chest as she came to the realization that he had taken his time earning her trust. Jake had done more than anyone else ever had to understand her and accept her exactly for who she was, not what she could be.

Even now, as his pain and confusion were bleeding through the page, it was clear to her that while choosing one of the brothers would inevitably hurt the other, not choosing was just as hard on at least one of them.

The guilt of leaving crushed her, now more than ever. Knowing that it caused such an intense reaction from him, knowing that these words could only express half of what he was feeling. It was all too much.

She almost stopped reading then and there. She could feel the tears begin to well and her heart begin to break. Especially as she forced herself to continue looking upon the page in her hand.

“I love you, Slip. More than the stars in the sky. More than life on Earth. More than guitar or music or the air that I breathe. I love you so much that it’s scary, and that fact has never changed. It will never change. I don’t care what happened. It doesn’t make me love you any less, and I just need you to come back. We can work through this together, if that’s something you’d want. God knows I do. I want you. I want us. I’ll never stop wanting that, and I’ll always be here whenever you’re ready. If ever.

All my love,

Jake”

He loved her.

Jake loved her.

She thought she would always remember the first time she heard the words fall from his plush lips. She thought she would have the time, date, and setting stamped into her mind forever, molding her into a new person as soon as the words danced in the air.

She didn’t think that she’d have the words permanently written on a piece of paper, multiple times. She didn’t imagine this being the circumstance of why the words were being said. Things were supposed to be different. The words weren’t meant to be spoken out of desperation, in such a pleading manner with a sense of uncertainty behind them. It was supposed to be them and only them.

But she somehow still managed to fuck that up, too.

Syd couldn’t believe the last few lines of the note, no matter how many times she read them. He claimed he wanted her, them. He insisted that he would always be there, waiting for her return with the same amount of love that he had blessed her with before everything. But how could he?

How could he forgive and forget so easily? How could he move past the fact that she had shared such an intimate part of herself with his brother? How could he love the person who came into his life and destroyed his relationship with his twin and left him alone to deal with the aftermath?

It seemed impossible. She couldn’t even give herself the same amount of grace.

The soft bell of the shop’s door opening was almost unnoticeable, but the gruff sound of her boss’s voice was what drew her out of her thoughts and brought her back to reality. She heard his greeting and a mumbled “thank you” from the customer that entered, causing her to fumble with the note as she stuffed it back in her apron.

She hurried to grab one of the books she was supposed to put away, much too focused on looking busy that she didn’t notice the customer getting closer and closer to where she stood.

She glanced back to the empty spots on the bookshelf that awaiting their fulfillment with the new novels in the box before her, checking multiple times that the tag matched the title of the book in her hand. Her frazzled state made her second-guess herself, but eventually, she was convinced that she had the correct placement. Just as she raised her arm to set the book down, though, she heard the soft sound of footsteps growing louder behind her, the owner of the noise clearing their throat as they approached.

“Excuse me? Ma’am?”

The voice caused her to pause her movement, stalling once more from getting the task completed. Despite the last syllable being more pointed and sarcastic than one would normally use when acknowledging an employee, it sounded inviting, familiar. But it couldn’t be-

“Could you help me find a book?” Finally, a full sentence to confirm her suspicions, a wide grin already forming on her lips. “Maybe one on how to text your best friend back?”

A sigh of relief and a quick turn later, she was met with Sam’s bright-eyed expression, a kind smirk adorning his features. Somehow, he looked different than the last time she had seen him, the day feeling like years prior.

The book fell from Syd’s grasp in a flash, and without an ounce of hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She strained to keep her balance with her body stretching to meet his, but he welcomed the embrace, sighing as his arms enveloped her to return the hug and hold her close to him.

“You-” she spoke into his neck, laughing in disbelief. “-are such an ass, Sammy.”

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest and landed into the strands of her hair. “I missed you, too, birdie.”

—————————————

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welightthefire · 2 years ago

Text

Table For Two ~ Part Ten

In collaboration with @allieboop

Jake Kiszka x OC x Josh Kiszka

Summary: "What started out as a new job unexpectedly became more for Sydney Baker. There's only room at the table for two... How will she navigate her feelings and come to a decision? How can she choose between two sides of the same coin?"

Warnings: tad bit of jealousy, soooo much fluff, crying, smut [unprotected penetrative sex, oral (f!receiving), praise, hair pulling (m!receiving🤭), possessiveness??]

Word Count: ~14.2k

taglist // playlist // masterpost

A/N: it's a long one, but it's been a long time coming. please tell us what you think!

Part Ten

It was nearing the end of the Saturday night shift, and Syd was finishing up jotting down her last order. Danny had already flipped the internal locks on the front doors and gone to hide in the office to do paperwork for the next several minutes. Through the serving window, Sam and the twins’ laughter could be heard as the brothers bantered about God knows what while the ever-familiar rotation of blues music played in the background.

She told her table that she would get their order in right away and be back in a bit. It wasn’t anything crazy- just a few baskets of fries and two burgers they had wanted to split. When she reached the window, she tapped the button atop the silver bell to get Jake’s attention.

“One last table, Jake, then you’re done cooking for the night.” Syd beamed as he walked over to retrieve the meal ticket from her outstretched hand.

“Oh, thank God- wait.” He stopped short as he glanced down at the ticket in his hand and called over his shoulder to his twin. “Four fries, Josh.”

Syd allowed her eyes to glance over at his twin who nodded his acknowledgment before she responded. “What’s the matter?”

“We’re still on for tonight, right?”

Syd feigned confusion as she looked at him. “I’m… not sure what you mean.”

Jake’s face fell. “You know… me coming over? Cooking dinner?”

“Ohhh, yeah.” Syd let her eyes wander up towards the clock on the wall.

9:37pm

“I mean, I guess so.”

“We don’t have to… Really. I just thought-“ he rushed.

Syd couldn’t keep up her act any longer, a shit-eating grin painting her face. “Jake, I’m kidding. I’ll be damned if I have to wait for the next family meal to eat your food.”

“I hate you.” Jake sighed, even though he couldn’t help but smile at her antics.

“You love me,” she declared, her eyes beaming.

Jake rolled his eyes at her. Little did she know, he thought.

“Really, I’m excited. And hungry.” She reached out and poked the tip of his nose. “So you should hurry up so we can get out of here sooner.”

Jake nodded. “Sure thing. Let me get a drink and I’ll be right on it.”

Syd reached to her side and grabbed a paper cup from the stack of to-go items. “Nope, I’ve got it. Shoo.”

Jake shook his head and laughed, slapping a palm down on the steel counter and turning on his heel with the ticket in hand.

By the time he prepared the burger patties, Syd had assembled his drink, a simple cup of ice water. She maneuvered back to him, watching him work from afar with a smile on her face. He caught the movement in the corner of his eye just as he had put the burgers on the grill and moved to the sink to wash his hands again. His mouth twitched into a sheepish smile as she presented the cup as if it were some grandiose meal.

“Your water, sir,” she spoke in an elegant accent, making his grin widen.

He backed away from the sink just enough so she could snake the cup to the front of him while he continued washing his hands.

She slowly brought the cup to his pursed lips, watching as they connected to the rim and his eyes flickered to her. He caught on to her staring, making his smirk return before the cool liquid reached his mouth.

She tilted the cup, just barely, and admired him as he drank. His cheekbones seemed to have become even more defined and prominent. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed the water. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration on not spilling the drink, although he had ultimately no control over that.

Syd pulled the cup away when he barely nodded, indicating that he was done with the drink. In the process, a stray droplet of water escaped his lips and was dribbling down the side of his mouth. Without thinking, she reached out and wiped it away with her thumb.

She kept her eyes on him as she let her hand linger there, letting it graze over the features she had come to admire. Something that began as a good deed - simply her lending a helping hand - had become something much more intimate, and she felt her cheeks pinken because of it all.

“Better?” She knew the word came out breathlessly, as it was almost a whisper.

He smiled and let his eyes drop to her lips for a moment. “Much.” He resumed washing his hands, mumbling an extra quip. “Now I have clean hands and a clean face.”

She was annoyed, but incredibly endeared, that such a lame joke made her laugh the way it did. She rolled her eyes at him, and as a form of payback, reached under the steady stream pouring from the faucet to splash a bit of water against his apron. He snickered at her dramatics and began drying his hands.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she softly voiced and set the cup down on the coated steel shelf next to the clean plastic baskets.

As Syd turned to make her way back to the dining room, she caught Josh watching her from the other side of the kitchen. Sam was going on and on about a jazz show he had tickets for, but his older brother couldn’t have lost interest any quicker once he had taken note of Jake and Syd’s exchange.

She threw up her hand in a small gesture, sending him a meek smile and mouthing the words ‘hi’ from across the room. Josh smiled back with a nod, however, it didn’t reach his eyes in the way it normally did.

—

Syd paced around her living room in her towel anxiously as her eyes darted around the clean space. Jake had told her that he was gonna stop at home and get some things together before he headed over to her place which gave her time to sit with her thoughts. However, her thoughts weren’t proving to be very good company.

She kept noticing things that wouldn’t typically bother her, such as the wrinkle in the fuzzy grey blanket draped over the back of her couch, or the one dim light amongst the rows of golden Christmas lights that lined the wall of her living room. She noted that one of Delta’s feather toys was laying under the coffee table, left when he had lost interest in it, which then led to her realizing she had left a glass of water next to the book she was currently halfway through.

The young woman sighed to herself and let out a low groan as she balanced herself up along the arm of the sofa to push the small bulb back into its socket, creating a consistent row of glimmering light against the ivory hue of the wall. She then grabbed the glass of water and brought it over to the kitchen to dump out, simply wiping the rim clean with the bottom hem of her towel and setting it on the corner of the stainless steel sink for later.

Her eyes landed on a smudge of grease along the black surface of the induction stove top and took a dry paper towel to wipe it clean. She didn’t know why she was so obsessed with all of these small details. Jake wouldn’t notice, and if he did, he wouldn’t care.

Syd flipped off the lights as she left the room, turning the corner to walk down the hall towards her bedroom. She crossed the room and switched on the lamp on her bedside table before she sat down on the edge of her unmade bed.

Great. Another thing to take care of.

She sat there for a moment, running her fingers through her damp waves, thinking about what she wanted to wear. Was this a date? Was it just a night with a good friend? If what Sam said was true, about Jake feeling the same, would their night together change things? If it did, would it be for the worst or the better? What if nothing changed at all and she just kept pining after him hopelessly?

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and stood up, letting the towel fall to the ground as she retrieved a pair of panties and slipped them over her thighs. Syd grabbed a pair of comfy grey cotton shorts and a black tank top, forgoing a bra for comfort’s sake, and dressed in silence. Still, in her uneasy state, she felt bare. She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her favorite cream cardigan and picked up her towel, tossing it across the room into the hamper beside her dresser.

After she had completed the task of making her bed and had straightened and fluffed all the pillows to her liking, she reached over and turned off the lamp before she made her way back out to her living room. Delta had come out of his hiding place beneath the record player to lounge on the seat of the sofa and looked up at her with squinty eyes.

“What do I do?” She asked her feline companion, knowing full well he couldn’t answer her.

“I really like this guy,” she continued, moving to sit next to him and pull him into her lap. “You know he’s been here before, and I wasn’t in the best shape, but why do I feel so much pressure this time?”

Delta pushed his face up into her neck in response and rubbed the edge of his jaw against hers.

Syd closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, inhaling the comforting scent of his fur. “He’s so sweet, and caring, and nice, and funny, and kind of an ass but in a good way and-”

The sharp rap of a knock on the door stopped her dead in her tracks. Delta’s ears perked up at the sound, causing him to leap off of her lap and go perch atop the side table near the door to inspect the visitor. Syd stood up from her spot and walked a few steps over, twisting the brass knob and pulling back the door to reveal Jake standing there with various grocery bags in his left hand and a sheepish grin on his face.

His hair had been freed from the braid he had worn at work earlier that night, air-dried kinks in his grown-out waves shining in the soft glow of the lights inside her home. He had worn a pair of simple black jeans with that same white Church of Rock N’ Roll T-shirt he had on that night in the pillow fort, and had completed his look with a light denim button-down, completely unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms.

“You gonna let me in, or just gawk at me?” A teasing smirk plastered his face while he gently pushed past her as she moved out of the way to let him in.

“I wasn’t gawking, by the way,” she chirped as she closed the door and followed behind him towards her kitchen.

“Whatever you say, Slip,” Jake chuckled, setting the bags on the counter.

He got to work setting out the various ingredients he had picked up, presumably earlier in the day. Oranges, sprigs of rosemary, salmon filets, red potatoes, and various bottles of different herbs filled the space on the kitchen counter by the time Jake was done. He hadn’t mentioned what he planned on making, he just said it was simple.

As Syd stood back and watched him get to work, she instructed him on where the pans and cooking utensils were. She thought about offering to help, but honestly, the young woman survived off of instant noodles and fruit. There was a reason she took the serving position and not one in the kitchen at the diner.

Jake, however, seemed to move effortlessly around the space. The way he simultaneously pressed the buttons on the stove to the correct oven temperature while setting two baking sheets on the stovetop was unlike how Syd had seen him work at the diner. He moved fluidly to chop the potatoes and arrange them spaciously on one of the baking sheets before he lightly shook the different seasonings over them, coating them evenly.

As he popped the first sheet pan into the oven, he turned to face Syd who was still leaning against the edge of the counter with an eyebrow raised as she watched him. He shot her a grin and leaned back against the marble ledge, matching her position.

“What?” He questioned, his eyes searching her features.

Syd crossed her arms over her chest as she quipped back. “I would ask if you need me to do anything, but…” She let her eyes dance over the cutting board that was decorated with orange slices and trimmed herb stems. “You look like you have all of this under control.”

“Why don’t you put on some music, and I’ll get this all in the oven? I have a surprise for you,” he stated.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Syd laughed and turned on her heel to head towards the living room.

While Syd was busying herself with looking through her small record collection, Jake paused his task of preparing the salmon to dig in his backpack for the bottle of Chardonnay he had kept in his refrigerator at home during their shift at the diner. He opened the cabinet he had found the cups in before, from that night after Green’s, and pulled out two crystal stem glasses.

The bottle wasn’t anything fancy. Hell, it was a thirteen-dollar bottle of wine with a screw cap. He just knew the generic dry taste paired well with the fish and Syd would enjoy it after a night at work.

Jake quickly wrapped the filets in aluminum foil with the oranges and rosemary sprigs and placed them three inches apart on the second baking sheet. When he opened the oven door, he was met with the sound of sizzling olive oil and a wave of heat on his face. He set the pan on the top rack and got to work pouring out the wine.

Syd came back into the room after the first few notes of a guitar and a steady beat filled the atmosphere around them. She wore a blissful smile on her face as she locked eyes with Jake. Her expression was replaced with a look of contented surprise when she noticed the glasses in his hands.

“For the lady,” he beamed, offering out his right hand to her.

“Wine?” She questioned, delicately taking his offer and bringing the glass to her lips to have a taste. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Nothing in particular,” Jake took a sip from his own glass. “Just thought you might like it.”

“That was thoughtful of you,” she replied, her voice soft as she looked down with a sheepish smile on her face.

The two stood there in comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying each other’s company.

Jake studied the beautiful woman before him, taking the time to admire the subtle rosiness of her cheeks, the way she held the body of her glass in both hands. She stood there with her legs crossed at the ankles, her peaceful presence accentuated by the way she softly swayed to the music. The slightest hint of a smile on her cheeks just so happened to reach her eyes more so than it was physically displayed. He was captivated by her existence.

Yet again, he was alone with her. The feeling of pure infatuation was in the air with every passing second that transpired. The same feeling he had when he was taking care of her that night after Green’s. When he took his time to prepare the pillow fort. When he told her about the special jersey quilt. When he played her that song he wrote about her.

He thought back to his previous conversation with Sam the night before. His younger brother had gone out to join him in the back lot on his break and had taken it upon himself to dive head first into Jake’s relationship dilemma.

Jake let out a deep breath and spoke aloud as he set his glass down on the counter. “Hey, Slip?”

She lifted her gaze from where it was transfixed on a spot on the patterned linoleum. “Yeah?”

“I think we both owe each other a dance.”

“I think you’re right,” she smiled, twisting her side to set her glass down behind her.

Jake stepped away from his spot against the counter and reached out to take her hands in his. The soothing muted melody of Leon Bridges’ “Coming Home” played through the speakers in the next room. He carefully brought her palms up to his neck, releasing them there. His own palms eased their way down to settle on the curve of her hips, his fingertips teasing the soft patch of flesh where the hem of her tank top didn’t quite meet the waistband of her shorts.

As the pair began to sway side to side, their feet barely moving at all, Syd couldn’t bring herself to keep eye contact with Jake. It wasn’t out of discomfort or embarrassment, but rather introversion stemming from the intimate proximity. The feeling of his fingertips against her skin was distracting in the way it caused ripples of awareness up the sides of her body and goosebumps along the length of her arms.

It was different from any other interaction she had experienced with Jake before. It wasn’t fueled by a drunken want to have fun and get her body moving. It was created in a space of tender appreciation. It was innocent, it was romantic, it was slow.

Syd briefly thought back to the week before when the vodka was running rampant through her veins and she had shared a much faster, rushed, heated moment with Josh that almost led to her complete unraveling. She didn’t want to allow herself to go there, to revisit those awful feelings she felt in the aftermath in the midst of such a sweet moment with Jake.

Jake was experiencing a slew of thoughts in his mind as well. Sam’s words kept replaying in his mind. Quit being a pussy and just do it, he had said. This was the way he had to do it. This was the way he would be able to break the ice and tell her everything he had grown to feel for her in the past few months.

His nerves weren’t hidden from himself as he tried to play it cool. He had to mentally tell himself to relax, to breathe through the moment as he hyped himself up for what he was about to say. The thing was, he just didn’t know how.

“Sam bought this album for my birthday last year.” Syd randomly mentioned, pulling him back to the present.

This is it, Jake thought to himself.

“Ya know,” he started. “He talked to me yesterday.”

Syd’s eyes widened while she stood wrapped up in his arms. If he wasn’t looking down at her, he would have missed it. “H-he did?”

Jake huffed and let a chill grin display across his cheeks. “Yeah, he told me to get my shit together.”

Syd laughed out loud, wondering about all the possibilities of that statement. “What does that even mean?”

Jake merely shrugged and let out a soft chuckle in response, suddenly doubting his ability to follow through with his original plan.

Syd stepped just a little bit closer and rested her head against his chest. “I really fucking hate him sometimes.”

“I don’t know how you’ve willingly chosen to be his friend for this long.”

She pulled back to peer up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Willingly?”

He laughed at her mockery. “He’s told me stories about you two. Even before you started working with us.”

Syd shoved her face into Jake’s shirt as she replied, her voice muffled by the fabric. “Oh god, that’s terrifying.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Jake objected, resting his cheek atop the crown of her head. “Especially now that I get to put a face and person to a name.”

Syd was silent as she listened to the gentle hum of his voice reverberating through his chest behind the steady thumping of his heartbeat.

“I do believe that some of the stories are a bit exaggerated, though.”

Syd’s body slightly shook with laughter in her response. “Sam? Exaggerating? Never.” She scoffed, causing Jake to laugh as well with her well-crossed sarcasm.

“I’m sorry your precious time with your brother is filled with stories about me.”

The conversation came to a pause as the two stayed there within that peaceful moment. Jake snaked his arms around Syd’s back, holding her tighter against his front as they danced, if it could even be called that. He took the silence as an invitation to breathe her in, to think about what he wanted to say, and to actually do it.

Syd became deaf to the music, instead focusing her attention on the rhythm of Jake’s heartbeat as if it were a soundtrack curated specifically for her. She was glad that he wasn’t able to feel the pulse of her blood racing through her veins. However, she was surprised when the thump thump thumping in his chest started to speed up.

And then she felt his body shift.

Jake pressed his lips to her forehead, holding them there for a moment until she realized exactly what had happened. What was said in between the space of his lips and her skin.

She pulled her cheek away from him and turned her face up to look at him. Not just to see him, but to observe him. Search within his features for the confirmation she needed.

He simply smiled at her. A small, yet sweet close-lipped smile that led up to the most loving pair of eyes she had ever seen. He released his grip from her waist and brought his fingers up to brush a few stray strands of hair off her cheek, trailing them along the curve of her ear and tucking them into place there.

“Everything is irrelevant next to you,” Jake muttered, so low, that Syd wasn’t even sure if she heard him correctly.

Syd’s jaw went slack as her bright emerald eyes gazed up at Jake. He moved his hand back to settle his palm along her jaw and ran his thumb gently across the plane of her cheekbone.

He moved on from the sentence as if it hadn’t been uttered at all. “He also told me something else.”

“Jake…” Her voice was but a whisper, barely audible except for the space between them.

“He said I needed to figure out what I wanted. And to do something about it.” Jake let out a deep breath he wasn’t aware that he had been holding in. “So I guess this is me finally doing something about it.”

And then it happened.

Jake let his head fall, tilting Syd’s face up to meet his by his hold on the soft line of her jaw. Their lips met, and for the first time, Syd felt wanted. Not wanted in a way that would leave her heartbroken after one night. Not in a way of immature infatuation that would inevitably fade as soon as it arrived. Not even in an empty sense of passion that most kisses exuded. There was more to this.

There were months of mutual desire that spoke against their lips. There was an aching burn of affection and intimacy that seeped through his fingertips as he held her chin. There was a deep sense of craving and yearning in the way his grip tightened on her hip. An even greater sense of weakness and vulnerability in how his breath shuddered as they pulled away.

He was shaking, ever so slightly, as they stood there soaking in the realness of what just happened. He rested his cheek against her temple and held her impossibly close. He just hoped she would say something to break through the nerves and panic that he was feeling.

“Jake, I-“ Syd stuttered. “I didn’t think you wanted me… like this.”

“Are you kidding?” He pulled away from her slightly to look into her eyes, her brows furrowed together. “You’re all I ever wanted since your dumb ass walked into the diner.”

Syd couldn’t speak as he searched her face for a response, oblivious to the pounding of her heart as it echoed in her ears.

He liked her. He wanted her.

The fluttering feeling in her stomach was ever present as she thought about all the sweet little instances that led up to this one singular life-changing moment. All of the moments she thoroughly enjoyed, but didn’t think twice about. All of the moments that seemed insignificant at the time.

The subtle touches across her back in passing.

The sheepish grins when she caught him staring through the service window.

The little giggles and laughs that seemed to be reserved for her, and her only.

“Syd,” Jake spoke, pulling her out of her mind. “You’re fucking intoxicating and you don’t even know it. Your laugh is the sweetest melody. You have a way of lighting up a room just by existing there.”

He took a deep breath before continuing. “You look down at your hands when you’re nervous. Your eyes light up like a little kid on Christmas morning when you’re excited. You’re the softest, most innocent soul when you’re exhausted and all you do is seek comfort.”

His deep amber eyes darted from her eyes, to her cheeks, to her lips, and back to her eyes again. The way she looked up at him with such an awestruck expression, irises glistening with the threat of tears, lips curling at the corners with the hint of a smile that couldn’t quite make it to the surface…

Jake leaned down and softly pressed his lips to hers once more, letting them rest there for but a moment.

“I really like you, Slip. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Syd’s voice was quiet as she replied, “I really like you, too, Jake.”

Their admissions weighed heavily in the air around them, emphasizing the notion that things between them wouldn’t be the same as they were before. It wasn’t nerve-wracking, but rather comfortable, new, and exciting all at once.

On one hand, Jake felt an insane amount of pressure release from his chest. It was as if he had been suffocating under his growing love for Syd over the past few months, unsure of the sheer strength and power of his emotions. All those nights he had laid awake unable to sleep, scared of what his feelings meant; and more so feared what would happen between them if they ever came to light.

He often found himself lost in his thoughts on the drive to work every day, knowing she would be there, envisioning her angelic smile, her soft touch, her melodious laugh. He would wonder if she would walk in on time with a glowing grin on her face as she walked through the dining room, greeting the regulars before she made her way back to the kitchen. Or if she would rush into the kitchen in a frazzled state, her hair tied up in the messiest of buns that she probably had slept in, dark circles under her eyes, a tumbler of lukewarm coffee in her hands.

In his eyes, she was beautiful no matter the day, the weather, if she was giddy and upbeat, or tired and a bit grumpy. He would still tease her just to see that rosy smile reach her big, green eyes, and he would still help her out around the dining room at the end of the shift.

Jake was so caught up in her. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else needed to.

She was always so sweet to him. It didn’t matter where they were, what they were doing, or who was around. That heart-warming light that glistened in the depth of her gaze never faltered when he caught her looking at him.

Through all those long shifts and endless nights alone, he had hoped that she would reciprocate his feelings, yet he wasn’t sure if her tenderness was merely a facet of her personality or her way of displaying her affections.

Until that moment.

On the other hand, Jake felt a sense of achievement. He knew Josh had started to grow feelings for Syd, and still, he couldn’t find it within himself to blame his twin. Syd carried herself in such a way that she seemed like the perfect partner for anyone. From his perspective, he couldn’t understand how anyone couldn’t be in love with her.

After that day in the diner when Syd asked him about Josh, he was moved that she had grown to care so much about him. The rocky start to their friendship was undesirable, to say the least, and not just for them, but for everyone around them too. Jake was happy to see that they had mended things of their own accord, but the longer time went on, the more uneasy he began to feel with each interaction he had to witness.

It was like a sick and twisted competition between the twins to see who could win over the young beauty torn between them. Jake didn’t want to take anything, or anyone, away from his brother, but the feelings he had been harboring seemed to cancel that out.

Jake wanted to feel bad. He wanted to feel selfish, as if he had betrayed his twin. However, as he stood there with Syd wrapped up in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to. The pure bliss was blinding brighter with every small glance she made towards him and every subtle touch of her fingertips against his skin.

Syd’s thought process couldn’t be more different. While she felt an overwhelming sense of peace with the entire situation, it was as if every piece of the puzzle she had been stuck trying to figure out was finally falling into place. She didn’t harbor the fear of finding herself too close to Jake anymore. In fact, his admission granted her the acknowledgment that maybe her definition of ‘too close’ was never really close enough.

She had found a new comfort within her reality, a new place of sanctuary. Her home had always been her own space, something she was more than willing to come back to, but with Jake there, it felt as though it had finally become ‘home’. The comfort came from his rough fingertips against the soft skin of her hip, the warmth that was so undeniably him. It floated through the room around her with the savory scent of a fresh meal and the sound of soft bluegrass music playing in the background. It warmed her heart from somewhere deep within her that she had yet to discover, yet was seemingly coursing through her veins as if it had been there the entire time.

The simplicity of the moment was her favorite. Surrounded by her own things and safe in Jake’s embrace, nothing else mattered except the two of them there, in that singular speck of time, pausing in the peace found within the grand scheme of things.

The pressure of his palms against the plush space between her hip bones and rib cage.

His chin pushing into her temple, the warm stickiness of flesh against flesh created from the contact.

Her heart was beating rapidly while the kaleidoscope of butterflies threatened to move its way out her throat.

The soft fabric of her tank top brushed against her skin as Jake adjusted his grip.

It was almost as if, at that moment, with her admittance, Syd was inviting Jake into everything that was unequivocally her. Nothing hidden. Not a thing in her life sheltered by the reserve she put up for everyone else, not even Sam.

“How about we sit down to eat, yeah?” Jake’s chest hummed as he spoke. “I’ll make some plates.”

“Sounds good to me,” Syd breathed out, slightly disappointed that she had to leave Jake’s arms.

She took a minute to retreat to the living room and flip the record as the clanking sound of pans resounded from the kitchen. Upon making her way back, Delta had run past her to see what the commotion was about. Jake was using a spatula to remove one of the filets from the sheet pan just as Delta perched his two front legs against the cupboard door below the counter in interest.

Jake chuckled as he peered down at the curious feline twitching his nose eagerly. “Sorry buddy, I didn’t make enough for the three of us. I’ll have to make it up to you next time.”

Syd found her glass of wine and leaned back against the counter as she watched the interaction. “If you wanted to make it up to him, there’s a cup of yogurt in the fridge…”

Jake’s eyes darted up to meet hers, an excited smile on his face.

“It’s his favorite,” she stated, bringing the glass to her lips.

Jake briefly abandoned his task of making the plates to scour over the contents of the refrigerator. His eyes landed on the singular plastic cup of yogurt that was covered with a bit of cling wrap and held it up to Syd to make sure it was the right one. When she nodded in confirmation, he removed the makeshift cover and found a spoon in the drying rack before he knelt by Delta, who had now moved to sit on his hind legs.

As Syd watched the pair, she couldn’t hide the smile that overtook her features. Delta moved towards Jake with no implication of hesitance as the man spooned a bit of the yogurt out and held it down for his new furry friend. He lapped it up carefully, with eyes closed, and while Syd was nowhere near close enough to hear it, she knew Jake could hear the loud purrs escaping the cat’s chest in pleasure from the surprise treat.

Jake’s eyes never left Delta’s contented face as he ate, a wide grin plastered on his cheeks. Syd couldn’t help but admire how innocent and pure the interaction was. It proved to be yet another invitation from Jake into her space as she shared experiences with him that she had only ever saved for herself.

Once the spoon was licked clean, Jake rubbed his palm along the top of Delta’s head in the flat space right between his large ears.

“That’s all I’ve got for you, little man,” he muttered as Delta rubbed against his legs and let out a scraggly mewl.

Jake stood up and replaced the clear film atop the container and put it back in the fridge. He resumed his task of placing the filets down on the plates with the potatoes to the side before the pair sat down to enjoy their meal.

After light conversation, stolen glances, and empty plates, Jake and Syd started the task of cleaning up. With their bellies and hearts full, Jake had taken on the duty of washing while Syd dried and put the glassware away. Once they got down to the last plate, Syd reached towards the cupboard to put the piece of ceramic away. Jake had other ideas, though.

In her distracted state, he grabbed the plate from her hand and held it over her head, wearing a shitty grin on his face.

“Jaaaaake!” She whined, leaning her chest against his as she stood on her tiptoes in a fruitless attempt to retrieve the plate.

“It’s not my fault you’re so short,” he teased.

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” she huffed, placing one hand on the side of his ribcage for support while she pushed further into him for leverage.

“I think you may be enjoying this some, yeah?” He joked as his free hand found its way to settle on her waist.

Syd playfully slapped Jake in the chest with the back of her hand, reaching once more for the plate. “Enjoying what? Being bullied by you?”

“Being all pressed up against me.” He shook his head and brought the arm holding the plate past her shoulder to place in the open cabinet. “And it’s not bullying.”

Syd jutted her bottom lip out as she felt a blush creep its way up her neck. “Stop that,” she mumbled, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Sorry, slip,” he sighed, snaking his other arm around her waist to clasp his hands together. “I guess I’m trying to prolong my stay.”

It was all Syd could do to simply look up into his chestnut irises, searching his face for truth in his statement, even though she didn’t have any reason not to believe him.

“I just wanna spend more time with you before I go home,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, allowing his lips to linger there.

“Then why don’t you stay?” She had found the words escaping her before she had even realized what she had said. There was no use trying to cover up what she had asked, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.

She missed being so close to Jake. She wanted to spend the night wrapped up in his arms again, lulled to sleep by his heavy breathing. There was a longing for it after only having spent the night like that just once.

And Jake missed her. Her sweet, groggy innocence that came when exhaustion overcame her. The way she would nuzzle into his side for more warmth. How their legs tangled together seamlessly in a mess of jumbled limbs.

Syd heard Jake swallow thickly as he nodded his head. He wasn’t nervous, but the opportunity for him to stay the night wasn’t something that he had anticipated. He simply thought that they would enjoy a nice meal together and maybe watch a film after and then he would go home and hopelessly await the day where he could call her his and staying the night would become a normal occurrence for them.

But that was before he had told her how he felt. That was before everything had changed, but nothing had changed at all. There had been an invisible shift in their relationship, something that came with new, unspoken rules and freedoms. Something like staying the night.

He detached himself from her and upon saying that he would be right back, excused himself to walk out the front door of her home. Syd looked around, spotting the half bottle of wine on the counter, and topped off her glass. She quickly downed the contents and spoke aloud to Delta who was eyeballing her from the corner of the room.

“Shit,” she stated, feeling the butterflies flutter in her gut again.

—

Jake stood in the doorway of the darkened room while Syd pulled back the covers on her bed and laid down. She watched him observe his surroundings in the dim light from the lamp on her bedside table. He took note of the tall bookshelf against the wall opposite her bed, lined with rows upon rows of books, the pile of fuzzy blankets and spare pillows in a wicker basket in the corner, the neatly organized desk he had written a note on that one night all those weeks ago.

There were framed drawings hung up on the walls depicting beautifully stippled nature themes mixed with what he assumed were watercolor accents. A verdant, vining ivy grew lush in a hanging planter in the corner, suspended from the ceiling just to the right of the singular large window. A string of unlit icicle lights hung above the wall over the headboard of her bed, as if they were framing the large painting of a forest scene that was hung completely center.

There was a lot he hadn’t noticed the last time he was there, due to the new perspective of the space. It screamed her name in the most peaceful voice, a perfect reflection of the quiet reserve of her existence. Both comfortable and inviting in all of the best ways.

Jake’s eyes landed on her body as she laid atop her mattress, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The large bed made her look even smaller than normal, her dark hair strewn across the plush pillows. The powder blue hue of the blankets somehow illuminated brighter against her tanned complexion as they threatened to swallow her whole in the soft glow emanated from the singular light source.

He slowly crossed the room to join her, closing the door behind him. The denim overshirt he wore was discarded haphazardly on the back of the desk chair in his venture. He let himself hover over Syd for just a moment to place a tender kiss against her lips before he rolled to the side next to her. In her weary state, she didn’t waste any time curling up to his side. She wrapped one arm around his waist and tangled her barren legs within his, now covered with the comfortable fabric of well-loved sweats.

Jake reached over her body, pulling the duvet up around them. It was easy for his eyes to meet hers as he looked down to see her searching his face. Syd brought her fingers up to gently push the soft strands of hair back off his forehead, seeming to memorize his features as if he would disappear before her.

Jake closed his eyes as he took the serenity of the moment to admire how her fingers felt as they danced along the surface of his skin. How her sweet vanilla scent was so flirtatious in the way that it lifted from the soft waves of hair surrounding her, enticing even. How comfortable and new and normal it felt for the two of them to be there, in her bed, together.

He had only ever thought about this instance, almost regretting that night after Green’s when she asked him to lay with her and he declined. He hadn’t wanted to leave her. God, did he want to stay and fall asleep within her embrace. Now that it was there, a reality curated to sweet blissful perfection, he wanted to soak it all in. Cherish it for all that it was and hope - no, know that it wouldn’t be the last time he would find himself tangled in her sheets with her cold toes tucked between his exposed ankles.

Her gaze trailed along the soft curve of his cupid's bow, up the slightly crooked slope of his nose. She traced along the peaks of his cheekbones as if they were the easiest mountains to climb and finally, grazed her thumb across his brow where she spotted the slightest indentation in the shape of an imperfect circle just above his right eyebrow near the center of his forehead.

She hadn’t noticed it before. In all the times she had been near Jake, close enough to break that unspoken boundary that existed before their admission, she had never been able to steal a glance anywhere else except for those warm chocolate eyes that made her heart race.

“What’s this?” She softly questioned, using her thumb to trace over the soft divet in his skin.

“Hmm?” He opened his eyes to peer down at her through his lashes. “Oh, the scar?”

“Yeah,” Syd sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth. “What happened?

Jake chuckled, deciding in a split second to mess with her as he absentmindedly ran a palm up and down along her side. “Got that back in my youth.”

“Jake,” She stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

“It’s true!” He countered. “I was a feared man, Slip. No one messed with-” he paused, watching her roll her eyes in disapproval.

Jake sighed in defeat, deciding to give up his act. “Sam broke a ukulele over my head.”

“What?!” She squeaked, shocked at his admission and then letting out a surprised giggle at the mental image that played through her mind.

“I’m really surprised you haven’t heard this story before.”

“Sam told me about the broken window and the toy jeep but-” she looked at Jake quizzically. “A ukulele?!”

“One of his finer moments, I must admit.”

“Tell me about it,” she smiled, urging him to continue.

Jake moved his hand up to the soft curve of her jaw as he thought about where to start, moving the hair off her neck. Syd used her free hand, vacating the planes of his facial structure to fumble around with the frayed cord of his bracelet instead.

“It was back one summer when we were in high school. We were having a cookout with Danny’s family, and I had brought out the uke to the trampoline to kill some time away from everyone else. Big family, lots of noise, ya know?”

Syd nodded, paying attention to every movement of his lips as he spoke, soaking in every word of his memory.

“Well, the week before I had scratched one of Sam’s records when I borrowed it. Sargent Pepper’s, one of his favorites, and I just gave it back without telling him about it. You know Sam…”

“Yeah, I do,” she giggled, imagining his reaction when he went to play the record. “I’m guessing he found out that day?”

Jake chuckled and nodded. “He came out of the house screaming out a bunch of bullshit about how much of an ass I was and yanked the ukulele right out of my hands and bashed me over the head with it. Three stitches, and we both got grounded for a week.”

“That’s intense but… very Sam.” Syd erupted in a fit of laughter as the image of Sam wailing on Jake with the small instrument played into her mind.

“Did you do anything stupid when you were younger?” Jake pondered, watching Syd’s fingers move from his wrist to his own.

“Not really,” she smiled. “I was a relatively quiet kid. One time though, my grandma was baking a shit ton of cookies for Christmas and I ended up sticking my tongue to the bird feeder. My grandpa came outside to get me and he found me crying. She had to come out with a cup of warm water and defrost me.”

“That’s-” Jake cracked up, earning him a soft blow to the chest. “I was gonna say that’s definitely something you would do.”

“Shut up,” she pouted, although the smile on her face couldn’t be hidden.

“Come here,” Jake cooed, pulling Syd closer to his chest.

She laid her cheek against the cool fabric of his t-shirt, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Jake snaked his arms around her waist, rubbing soft circles into the flesh at the bottom of her spine. Neither were sure how long they laid there like that.

Soft hums turned into slow and steady breaths as their eyes closed and the sweet blanket of sleep drifted over them. There wasn’t a specific time when either realized it, there was just the peace and utmost comfort of the late night soaking in each other’s affection. It was serene. It was happy.

—

Syd was the first to wake, opening her eyes to a sun-filled sky peeking into the solace of her home. The light illuminated the room and bounced off the walls and furniture. But when she looked down at Jake, it seemed to soak into the tan complexion of his skin, making him more vibrant and enticing than ever.

He still had one arm wrapped around her while she was cuddled into his side. His fingers still gripped the fabric of the worn tank top over her skin, holding onto her as tightly as he could, even in an unconscious state.

He looked so peaceful. So content.

She basked in his presence as the events of the night before replayed in her mind. The teasing, lighthearted nature of the evening naturally and seamlessly shifting ito something more honest.

Syd laid there for what seemed like hours watching the soft roll of Jake’s eyes behind his closed eyelids. She traced the scar along his forearm absentmindedly while she watched his lashes flutter as he dreamed.

Until they opened, his golden gaze warm like honey.

“Why are you up already?” His voice croaked, husky from sleep.

“Well good morning to you, too,” she giggled, softly poking his nose with her fingertip.

“Mornin’,” he cleared his throat. “You do realize we have the entire day to sleep, right?”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I want to lay here, but I don’t want to sleep.”

Jake chuckled dryly and pulled her closer within his embrace. “That doesn’t make too much sense, Slip.”

“I don’t care,” she breathed.

She gratefully welcomed his arms as they tightened around her, pulling her arms up to her chest to accommodate the comfortable lack of space. Jake pressed a soft kiss to her forehead as his breath began to even out under the blanket of unconsciousness once again.

“Did you sleep well?” She spoke, tilting her head back against the pillow to try and see his face.

The corners of his lips turned up in a sleepy smile. “I am sleeping well, thank you.”

“Jakey-“ she whined, jutting out her bottom lip. “Don’t go back to sleep-“

“Shh,” he hushed as his slender fingers moved through the strands of hair at the back of her neck.

Jake opened one of his eyes to peek at the silly girl in his arms and let out a laugh. “Don’t give me that look.”

“Why not?” She questioned, innocently.

Jake simply let out a hum in response, letting his eyes fall closed again as his mind wandered.

He thought of the many lonely nights and early mornings where Syd was inevitably on his mind. Those countless times where his thoughts had grown more… salacious. A stark contrast to the innocent desire for her attention and company.

The times when he couldn’t control his urges, and the times when he had delved into his imagination while his hands worked himself. It was always that same look that brought him to his precipice - her perfect lips pouted, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. Yet, the only difference was that he seemed to imagine her below him, on her knees, head tilted upwards to look at him through her lashes. With that damn look.

He thought of how pretty she’d look in such a situation. How polite she’d be, waiting patiently to wrap her delicate hands and beautiful mouth around him.

And every time he looked at her like that, he had to groan internally and act as if she didn’t make him think in such ways.

She was incredibly clueless as to what she did to him. And that made it so much more enticing.

“Cause,” he finally answered with a smug smile.

The vague response seemed to be enough for her, as her mind had already traveled elsewhere since she last spoke. “I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?”

The only verbal answer she received was a husky chuckle from Jake, if you could even call it an answer at all. He was amused at the fact that she had asked, so nicely, to kiss him. She asked, as if he wouldn’t give up everything in the world to kiss her every second of the rest of his life.

He pushed gently on her back, a gesture that she took as permission to come closer. She shifted in his arms and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, caressing the soft skin before bringing her lips to his.

Somehow, this kiss seemed different. Their first kiss, as perfect as it was, seemed to have the qualities of a question mark. A gesture that asked for confirmation and acceptance. A sign that he was still unsure that this was all real, that he was really making the move he had dreamt about for weeks.

Kissing him this morning felt more like the usage of a comma. Something that indicated the expectations of something more. A notion that signified there was an agreement, with much more to come as time passed. That there was a future in store for them both. Together.

Both sighed into the slow, languid kiss. Unhurried, barely moving, just… feeling.

And when Syd pulled away for air, it wasn’t long before she felt Jake’s fingers in her hair, tugging her back down.

An exclamation point. This time, the kiss was a declaration, and a proud one at that. An assertion of his sincerity, a promise of his dedication. With this, he was professing his loyalty to the young woman, even though she had him wrapped around her finger for as long as he could remember.

In his drowsy state, Jake could only focus on bits and pieces at a time. His mind bounced from how soft her smiling lips felt against his, how her body pressed into his from eager desperation, and how she would let out sweet giggles here and there, more when he would return her expression with a sleepy smile of his own.

Syd, however, felt as if the weight of the moment could crush her down. With every stroke of his thumb across her cheek, she felt like putty in his hands. She wanted to live here.

Inhaling one another, exhaling shaky exhilaration.

She repositioned so they could be closer, but at this point, she was essentially lying on top of his chest. His heart fluttered under hers, increasing in speed as he moved his hands to the small of her back. He knew she was straining her neck trying to reach his lips, and the new grip allowed him to make a conscious decision to turn their bodies over.

Jake gently lowered her so she could rest against the soft mattress under them. He braced himself as best as he could in the new position, but he made sure to keep a hand glued to her hip.

He almost didn’t realize they were no longer kissing. Her hands were still attached to his cheeks, lips still extremely close to his, but they were just there.

“Was that enough of a kiss for you?” He joked, finding himself more breathless than he anticipated.

She breathed out a laugh and blushed as she let her fingers trail the sides of his neck to rest at its base. Taunting him with the same pout and whiny voice that drove him wild, she answered with a simple “No.”

He rolled his eyes with an amused huff, shaking his head at her persistence.

“All I wanted was a couple more hours of sleep,” he teased. Upon hearing another giggle, he placed a kiss on her forehead, followed it up with a peck on the tip of her nose, and concluded the series by claiming her lips once more.

Syd’s arms wrapped around his neck on their own volition, an absentminded gesture to hold him close. His body weight felt comfortable on top of her, and she was quickly becoming accustomed to it. She hitched a leg onto his hip to make the position more comfortable for them both, but the movement eliminated what little space existed between them.

It made his grip tighten, and his lazy kisses grew sloppier. And soon enough, he completely gave up on trying to remain focused on her lips. He traveled to her cheek, her jaw, before letting the kiss drop to her neck.

She sucked in a shaky breath at the sensation, losing herself in the way his hair draped over her and how the cold metal of his medallion necklace pressed against her warm chest. She could feel the soft tickle of his breath against her neck as he sighed, savoring the moment while his lips and tongue explored the skin.

This was certainly new for them. Sure, the general act of kissing was still fresh, but this… The heavy breaths. The neediness.

This was uncharted territory.

As was the first few inches of skin that lay stowed away under her shirt. The skin he dared to let his fingers traverse once their lips locked. A gesture that made her whimper into his mouth.

He pulled away as soon as the sound reached his ears, only putting enough distance between them that he could look into her eyes.

She didn’t look as pained as the noise made her sound. In fact, she looked almost excited. Her chest was heaving, panting as she tried to catch her breath from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes bounced around Jake’s features.

It wasn’t until then that he realized just how close they were, physically and emotionally. They both seemed to stare at one another with bated breath, waiting for what would come next.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, afraid to disturb the serenity with a louder volume.

She nodded and tugged him down to rid the space that existed between their bodies. His lips, she decided, were addicting. Hypnotic in every way. She was in a daze, and the only thing she wanted to focus on was kissing him.

Jake let his calloused fingers knead into the soft skin that covered her ribs while his lips brushed against her neck. This time, when she pressed her chest to his, he could feel the hardened peaks of her breasts through the thin layers of their shirts. The contact made him groan.

With that, his hand dipped under her arched back, resting on her spine so he could raise both of their bodies. She was essentially sitting in his lap as he relaxed on the backs of his calves. His lips stalled, and he let his forehead fall to rest against hers.

From the position, Syd could do very little but watch him. She watched his heavy breathing, eyes closed, lips pursed. She watched the hand that wasn’t holding onto her back gripping onto her bare thigh. She watched a bead of sweat trail down the side of his neck and absorb into the cotton of his shirt’s neckline.

Her heart swelled with love and adoration for Jake, and as her thoughts ran wild, the faster her heart started to beat. She found her hands moving on their own accord, her thoughts soon becoming her actions. However, the lovesick daze she was in made it seem as if she were moving in slow motion. A juxtaposition to the frenzy of her emotions.

As if they were moving through sweet molasses, her hands slid across his shoulders, over his pecks, and down to the base of his shirt. The bottom portion of the garment soon was bunched into the palms of her hands, and she paused, waiting to see how far Jake would let her take things before he stopped her.

But once she looked up from her hands, she found his now-open and half-lidded eyes looking right back at her. She found permission in his comforting glance, and bit her bottom lip as she continued with her motions.

As soon as his shirt was tossed aside, Jake ran a thumb over her lip, freeing it from her teeth. In one swift motion, he returned his mouth to hers as he leaned her back onto the mattress.

There were hungry desires resting deep in Jake’s mind, but he easily suppressed them. He usually found himself desperate, greedy in situations like this, and he had imagined nothing would change if he ever had this opportunity. He had craved Syd’s touch to the point he felt famished. But somehow, he found it easy to carry on with the easygoing, relaxed pace that the morning had set out for them.

This moment was far too perfect to rush, and he couldn’t risk wasting perfection because of recklessness.

Instead, his lips slowly glided from her mouth to her neck. He advanced past her collarbone, using his teeth to move the thin straps of her tank top off of her shoulders before leaving a nip on the exposed skin.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened, and a shaky mewl bounced on the walls around them. She pushed her chest forward, allowing him more skin to kiss, space to work with. Her body was his canvas, and she wanted him to paint it as he pleased.

She was glad when she felt his hands grab onto the hem of her tank, but he hesitated before removing it. His lips soon pressed against the shell of her ear, his staggered breathing sending chills down her spine.

“We can stop if you need to, okay?” He whispered. “Just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Her face dropped, and an immediate whine erupted from her. “I don’t want you to stop.” She knew this moment would eventually end, but the idea of it ending prematurely upset her. Her hands fell on top of his, hoping that with the contact, he’d continue. She fumbled with his fingers, but they didn’t move. He wouldn’t, not until she gave him her consent.

“Shh,” he purred, making her urgent hands slow. “Tell me you understand.”

She sighed, finally heeding his sweet voice. “I understand.”

His lips grazed against her temple. “Good girl,” he muttered, applying a final kiss to her head before he lifted the shirt off of her torso.

She didn’t have time to feel self-conscious about her stripped body before Jake’s lips reattached to her, this time in the valley of her breasts while his large hands worked against the sensitive buds of her nipples. His touch, as well as his praise, had her mind in a lovesick daze. Her fingers danced in his hair as she squirmed underneath him. He was worshiping her, declaring her as the idol of his dedication, with every kiss and lick against the pebbled flesh.

He spent an insurmountable time there before leaving trails of kisses down her soft stomach to the waistband of her shorts. His fingers hooked under the elastic, and shudders of anticipation were released from them both. Within moments, she was completely bare before him.

She was gorgeous. She had always caught Jake’s eyes, in every way possible. Even in her work clothes, smudged and dirty from a day’s toiling at the diner, she was nothing but beautiful to him. But with her here, like this, she was ethereal. The vulnerability of it all. The trust took for her to let him get to this point. It made him fall in love with her, much more than he had ever fallen for anyone.

The more he admired her, the more his heart raced. He wanted her, in every way he had ever imagined, but he was devoted to making this about her.

Jake bent back down, kissing the tops of her thighs as he kicked his pajama pants off. She watched him fervently, letting out a sweet, delicate giggle at his excitement. Once he was rid of the garment, he shifted to lie on his stomach, between her legs and with a firm grasp on each hip.

Things didn’t progress for a while. Instead, they lay there, gazing at one another with glossy eyes and lovelorn hearts as he placed a few extra kisses along her skin. She continued to run her fingers through his messy head of hair, letting the thoughts of him - and the realness of the situation - add to her arousal.

His stare was heated, yet loving, and the slightly condescending nature of it made her softly giggle to herself.

“What?” Jake asked with a curious grin.

Syd shook her head and laughed again, louder this time. She unconsciously bent her legs, only realizing after the fact that it put his face that much closer to where she needed him most.

“Nothin’,” she spoke with that shy smile never leaving her lips. She felt a little silly for thinking such pure thoughts in such a compromising position, so she was hesitant to tell him what was on her mind. But when he chuckled against her skin, his lips on the inside of her thigh and extremely close to her heat, she realized that the apprehension was unnecessary.

“You’re just… really pretty,” she murmured, still stroking his brunette hair.

He laughed again, but not the kind of laugh that he’d make after a lame joke or seeing her trip over nothing. A laugh that was used as a response when words failed. A laugh that showed her just how hard he had fallen for her. She even thought she could see a new shade of pink on his cheeks.

“Says you,” he retorted. “Look at you.” His lips were back on her thighs. Inching closer and closer as he spoke each word individually. “So. Fucking. Beautiful.”

And then he paused. Face hovering over her wetness. Looking up at her through his lashes. Watching her as she waited with her breath stuck in her lungs. Letting his warm breath fan over her as he spoke the last word.

“Mine.”

The eye contact paired with the slow, languid stripe through her folds could’ve been enough to make the dam break right then and there. The anticipation of this moment had made the sensation that much more intense. She groaned at the feeling, moaning a single word of agreement as she let her hips buck up to his mouth on their own accord.

“Yours,” she choked out.

At that moment, something shifted between them. Everything unspoken, everything once denied, had finally come out. There was a newfound sense of plurality. A ‘them’.

His tongue rolled against her, and he kept a bruising grip on her hips as she writhed beneath him. It wasn’t long until she felt that familiar pressure building up, all thanks to Jake’s doing.

He was able to read her. From day one, he had always been able to look at her and know when to speak and when to not. When to joke and when to take things seriously. When she needed to be left alone and when she needed an extra push. Like now.

He was reading her arousal. He paid attention to each movement, each noise she made. He was reciting it in his head, not only to document it to his memory, but to know what exactly made the coil tighten. And once he found it, he didn’t deviate from it.

With every fluttering glide of his warm tongue, she was a mess of breathless cries and bliss. Syd could feel herself being pulled under, and she was quite literally pulling him with her by her ever-tightening grip on his hair. Out of fear of hurting him, she released the locks from her hold, choosing to fist the tangled bedsheets around her.

That’s exactly when he let go of her hips. She could feel the burn of where his fingerprints once were, but it was easily forgotten about as she focused back on the pleasure he was granting her. One of his hands had become busy alongside his mouth, thumb circling her clit while he lapped at her entrance. The other hand had reached towards her, palm up and outstretched, asking for her fingers to intertwine with his.

She smiled a lopsided grin at him as she obliged, squeezing their palms together while he brought her much closer to her peak.

“Jake,” she breathed in between shaky moans. “I-I’m gonna-”

He cut her off with a low groan, the vibrations rattling through her. The noise was out of approval, his permission for her to finally let go. He wanted to see it. He needed to.

He needed to see if she looked just as he had envisioned she would. He needed to hear the sweet moans and whimpers that he had imagined would accompany her heavy breaths. He needed to hear her say his name.

Once she dissolved into the pleasure Jake had brought her, she had trouble holding back the tremors that wracked her body. And as he looked up at her, he was able to see her pursed, swollen lips form a perfect ‘O’ as her back arched and her grip on his hand tightened. He watched the soft skin of her chest - flushed just as he had imagined - rise and fall with each deep, shattering breath. Her eyes were squeezed shut, head was thrown back against the plush pillows behind her. He felt as if he was witnessing the essence of her for the first time, all over again.

Eventually, her praises and sobs turned to satisfied hums as he coaxed her through her climax. Her eyes opened, immediately searching to make contact with his once she regained focus. She seemed frantic, eager to see him after her heightened state, and desperate to know that this wasn’t some vivid dream of hers. But once her wide, emerald eyes locked on him placing extra kisses along her pubic bone, she sighed with contentment. She adopted a crooked, almost fucked-out smile and used their clasped hands to pull him towards her.

His lips were back on hers in an instant, and Syd could feel the smug grin on Jake’s features as she tasted herself on him. His hands wiped against her forehead, pushing the strands of hair that had become even messier than when she awoke. He pulled away from her, sitting almost completely straight up, but still stroking her cheeks with his thumbs as he gazed at her in awe. He wished to capture this moment, to see her like this when he craved her touch, when he craved her.

She looked back up at him with the same expression, but there was still a hint of desire that lay laden in her bright eyes. She wanted more, and he was more than willing to give it to her.

He slowly retreated to the edge of the bed, prolonging the eye contact as he stood. Syd watched his fingers dip under the elastic of his boxers, pausing before he removed them to see if there was still any ounce of hesitance in the young woman’s eyes.

When he found none, he slipped the fabric down his legs and began to crawl back into his initial spot over Syd.

“Wait,” she breathed, making him cease any and all movement. He looked at her with an eyebrow raised, wondering if he had crossed some boundary with her. However, a bashful smile flashed briefly across her lips before she continued. “Just… let me look at you for a minute.”

His cheeks pinkened at the request, but he did as she said. He waited, sitting with his legs tucked underneath him. His hands were placed gently on her knees on either side of him as he awaited her approval to continue.

She felt as if she was in a hazy fugue as she tried to take in his beauty at once. He had eased her into it, stripping pieces of clothing away before fully exposing himself to her, but she still hadn’t been prepared to see him for the first time. His muscles were taut, skin a glistening shade of bronze. The sweat that had originally collected in his shirt - now tossed away - trailed down the plain of his torso. It dripped lower and lower, and she let her eyes follow it. All the way to the shaft of his painfully hard cock. She almost tore her eyes away from him, too embarrassed to be looking at him in such a vulnerable state, but she continued, although sheepishly.

Her flustered expression made him chuckle softly to himself. He found it endearing how much she wanted to admire him, yet found herself in a state of mental torment with each lustful glance in his direction. He attempted to bring her out of her thoughts, trailing one of his hands up the silken skin of her stomach, attaching to the pillowy flesh of her breast. A curse came out as a rasp from her throat, and she instinctively arched into the touch of his wandering hand.

He reached under her again, lifting her to rest on his lap as she had before. She sat, wrists crossed behind him, her body wrapped around him in all ways but one, as they looked at each other earnestly. His fingers felt like lead on the small of her back, weighing her down and grounding her in the heat of the moment. The incredibly intimate position made her pulse quicken and her breath falter.

Jake placed a chaste kiss against the corner of her mouth. “Remember what I said, okay? Tell me if I need to-”

“I remember,” she cooed, brushing away the loose strands of hair from his face. “I want this, Jake.”

An honest, grateful smile graced his lips before they shared another passionate kiss. Everything that they had been feeling in private, for months on end, was now something they were able to express. And they had much to make up for.

The kiss broke just as one of his hands detached from her. Syd raised herself as best as she could while he worked to align himself with her entrance. She gripped his shoulders to balance herself, squeezing gently as she felt him push, just barely, into her.

She winced at the stretch, burying her head into his neck to release a strangled cry while he inhaled sharply against her shoulder.

“Shh, you can take it,” he husked. “You’re doing so good. Relax, baby.”

Syd whimpered at the encouragement, feeling her knees buckle as her breathing turned to shallow pants. She swallowed hard, attempting to rid of all the noises that threatened to sputter from her before she sank down onto him.

“There you go.” His soft voice had turned into something that could only be described as a growl. The praise seemed much more sinful once paired with his ragged, gravelly tone. “That’s my girl.”

He peppered gentle kisses on whatever stretch of skin he had access to, his fingers splayed on her body as they massaged the doughy form of her hips, while he waited - ever so patiently - for her to adjust to him.

And when she was ready, she pulled back from the crease of his neck to watch him as she slowly began to rock her hips.

It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. Sure, she had her fair share of hookups and failed relationships, so she definitely was no stranger to the act in general. However, she had never felt this whole, this complete, with any other partner in her past. This moment meant so much more to them both due to the connection they had made and the affection they had garnered for one another.

“F-fuck,” Jake murmured. “You feel so fucking- shit.”

He had seemed to be in control of himself, and the situation, for the entirety of the morning, but with the sensation of being buried inside of her, he was quickly losing himself. He released her hips, choosing to lean back and watch her work against him.

His heavy breathing, fluttering eyelids, and perfectly pouted lips spurred her on and encouraged her to keep the same sensual pace she had started in. His head jerked to the side, almost as if he were shaking his head in disbelief that the pleasure had made him lose his composure so quickly. Syd felt a sense of pride upon seeing him unravel, but he regained his footing almost as soon as he had lost it.

He leaned forward and let his arms circle her waist, holding her much closer and tighter than before. He didn’t change the rhythm or timing, only moved to hold her in his arms again. The angle and depth made her tremor, but he facilitated her movements with each push and pull against her hips. While one arm returned to wrap around his neck, the other dropped to Jake’s arm as she tucked her head into him. She clutched onto his forearm in an attempt to anchor herself in the rushing waves of satisfaction.

The whimpers and moans that escaped from her mixed with the lewd sounds they created together, arranging a beautiful symphony of passion.

“...Sound so pretty,” Jake panted against her. His hot breath was a precursor to the feeling of his mouth on her once again, sucking and nipping against the skin under her ear. “So, so pretty.”

“Oh, god.” She was quickly falling into the foggy blur of ecstasy. If Jake pulling her hips to meet his didn’t bring her there, his praise and murmurs would. She found herself in a slew of pleads, begging for something she was unsure of.

With each word, though, Jake seemed pleased with her. And himself. He groaned with each cry. “I know it. I’m right there, baby. I’m right fucking there.”

All she could do was whimper into him. The rolls and snaps of their hips had them both facing the golden gates of release, and they were desperate to get there together. And soon enough, they did.

Foregoing the process of warning one another, they came in unison. She couldn’t see him - the sensation strong enough to make her vision go blank - but she could imagine what he looked like. She could tell his head was tipped back by the way his hair fell across her arm and how his moans reverberated on the walls and ceiling around them. She imagined his muscles were tensed based on the grip on her hip and how his thighs felt taut under hers. His eyes were probably closed simply because of how loud his groans became. Even in her imagination, he was a masterpiece.

Jake began to guide her hips in a slower - yet still sloppy - manner, bringing them both down from their peaks to avoid overstimulation. And as soon as he could, he reattached their lips in a passionate, loving kiss.

As they stilled their movements, they sat there for a beat longer, embracing each other as if they had lived seas apart for eternity.

Without detaching from the young woman, he leaned her back so she was resting on the mattress once again. His lips paused in the kiss, as he removed his softening cock from her. He moved his hands to cup her cheeks, still warm from exertion. When he pulled away to look at her, eager to meet her lopsided smile with his own, he instead found a watery-eyed Syd looking back up at him.

His smile dropped as he spoke with haste. “Hey, hey, did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?”

Her lips turned upward as a tear slipped. Her soft palms met his hands still on her cheeks as she answered him, her voice raspy. “No, Jake, I’m okay. I just-” she paused. “Thank you.”

He breathed a laugh at her, confused yet relieved that she wasn’t hurt. “Thank me? Slip, I-”

“I can’t believe we’re here. You’re here. With me.” Her explanation was nothing close to expressing each of the racing thoughts she had, but she hoped it put his mind at ease.

His bright smile returned, and he swiped away a stray tear that had fallen along the pink of her cheeks, kissing it for good measure before he spoke.

“And I’m not leaving.”

—

In the late morning sunlight, Jake lay there, drawing simple lines and curves against the surface of exposed skin on Syd’s back with his fingertips. The languid movements of his hands had ultimately lulled her back to sleep, yet he couldn’t bring himself to escape the moment of serenity he had found after they had made love. Her sleeping form curled up against his body, one leg hitched over one of his thighs and entangled with the calf of his other leg. The back of her small hand adorned with a mixture of silver and golden rings rested against his collarbone, just next to where her face tucked into the curve of his neck.

In the span of the last several hours, his adoration for the girl wrapped up in his arms had somehow grown tenfold. Everything he had ever dreamed of had come to fruition but was more perfect than anything he could have ever imagined. The past weeks of innocent flirtatious banter had turned into whispers of sweet nothings and loving stares in each other’s arms.

Something more true than either of them had ever experienced with another person made itself known in the nonexistent crevices between their bodies as they came to journey that sweet sense of blissful euphoria together. The event was more than an escapade into the adventurous throes of lust.

It was the cementing connection that bound them together by words unspoken. Everything that was and had been between them had surmounted to the possibility of everything that would be. Infinite. A future for them.

Jake laid there, lost in his sweet, sweet love drunk haze, watching as his fingertips circled the soft ball of Syd’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was. In all of their encounters, all of the little moments he was fortunate enough to share with her, led them to this exact moment in time.

A moment where Syd was blissfully unaware of just how deeply he felt for her. Words couldn’t begin to describe how both insanely fascinated and stupidly comfortable he felt around her. It was as if he had known her his entire life, yet every little detail she shared had opened a new and exciting window of opportunity for him to explore what made her… her.

There wasn’t a marathon, a rush, a chase to get to the finish line. Their friendship, their relationship was a casual stroll in the park on a breezy spring day. It was the relaxed feeling of watching a movie beneath a carefully constructed pillow fort. It was a slow dance in the kitchen at two o’clock in the morning just because the moment called for it.

Jake couldn’t pinpoint the moment he had started to fall for Syd. Hell, after that night on the curb, he wasn’t sure if there was ever a time when he wasn’t falling for her. She made it so easy for him.

The barely there freckles dotted across her nose.

Her bright, forest eyes gleaming with kindness.

The lilting laughter that escaped her lips and caused her eyes to wrinkle at the outer corners.

How she would sit and stare off into space with her tongue grazing her upper lip, daydreaming about God knows what.

The soft touch of her hand on his arm when she passed by.

The look in her eyes when they were alone.

His mental list could go on forever.

Infinite.

There were so many things that Jake could think about that made him admire her. Things she did that held power over him he wasn’t so sure that even she was aware she possessed.

A sharp knock on the door caused Jake to jump slightly, immediately pulling him out of his reverie. He chose to ignore it. It wasn’t his place to answer a door that wasn’t his. He risked taking a peek at the sleeping woman in his arms. She was still sound asleep, completely unfazed by his sudden movement, only curling tighter against him.

Another knock.

Jake sighed to himself, beginning to unravel himself from the mess of limbs gingerly, as to not wake Syd. He figured it was a delivery driver dropping off a package she must have ordered, assuming that by the time he went to retrieve it, the worker would be gone.

He successfully managed to get out of the blankets as Syd rolled over into his warm spot, hugging the pillow he had used to her chest. A sleepy smile crossed her lips as she adjusted herself for comfort, the tanned planes of her curves seeming to glow in the sunlight that streamed in through the window.

Jake tore his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of him and found his sweatpants in an inside-out mess on the floor at the foot of the bed, exactly where he had left them. His boxers were lost somewhere in the mess of tangled sheets, but he couldn’t care less as he fixed the clothing and pulled the fabric up over his hips.

After carefully padding across the floor and quietly opening the door, he made his way around the corner towards the entryway. Delta was hiding beneath the record player in the corner, ears perked up in high alert at the visitor. Jake smiled softly in passing, enjoying the cat’s quirks for a second.

“What do you think she ordered, buddy?” He whispered to the feline. “Better be a new toy for you, right?”

He chuckled at his joke and reached forward. The doorknob felt cold against his palm, and he knew the spring air would warm the room as soon as he opened the door. The domesticity of the situation - on top of everything that had occurred in a day - made his heart feel content. Walking through her space comfortably, answering her door, possibly spending a moment’s conversation with her local mail person. It was almost surreal, too good to be true.

However, he had forgotten what day of the week it was.

Mail services don’t run on Sundays.

------------

part 11>>>

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fishnets-fingers · 3 years ago

Text

Six Months - Part Twenty

Summary - Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together?

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n - i don’t know what to make of this chapter. there is a lot of the plot that focuses only on the flower braiding ceremony. hope it doesn’t bore any of you guys. as always, like and reblog. feed back is not only appreciated but much welcome. happy reading!

Word Count - 11.3k

Warnings - smut, angst, fluff.

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

“What the fuck is talking her so damn long,” Harry sighs, leaning against the side of his car. It was eight in the morning, and he’s been waiting outside the Sathish’s for over twenty minutes now. He fishes out his phone from the back pocket and taps on her contact name for the third time.

“Hi. So so sorry. Give me like two seconds. I’ll be out. Sorry,” she flusteredly says, and hangs up before he could get a word in.

“I’m gonna kill her,” he mutters.

A few minutes later she comes barrelling through the front door. Phone tucked under her chin, water bottle in one hand, a tote in the other. She was wearing her black faux leather pants with an olive sweater over a white shirt. Her hair was still in a bun, messy, a few stands that have come loose stuck out every which way. She hotfoots over to him in her high heels. The strappy black stilettos click unceremoniously against the white wood of the steps of the front porch; Harry worries, hoping she doesn’t lose her stride. Those two thin tiny black straps around her ankles and her toes, always made him question their ability to keep her feet secure. But she makes it to him.

“Baby, I’ve been waiting for half an -”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” She interrupts, dropping her tote on the passenger seat through his window. He goes to get her phone tucked between her neck and chin. “Thanks,” she says, taking a huge breath in.

“I had a faculty meeting with the professors early this morning. I took it from the cinema room and fell asleep at four in the morning. Sorry. It’s super dark in there and I managed to snooze through the alarms. I woke up to you calling,” she explains with an apologetic smile.

“We can go another day. I’m happy to cuddle and sleep too,” he tells her.

“No. No. I need this today. I’ve been eating nothing but cereal, oats, pancakes, and porridge for breakfast since we came back from New Orleans. I’m sick of it. I need my South Indian tiffin.” Her Winnie the Pooh watch read that it’s twenty to nine.

“Okay,” he chuckles, bending to leave a wet kiss on her forehead. Harry notices the way her nose crinkles when his stubble tickles her. Adorable, he thinks.

“You look cute,” she notes, checking out his outfit. He was wearing a dusty pink corduroy trousers that clung to his things and flared from his knees. A white Chicago Club t-shirt underneath an unbuttoned blue and red trippy acid patterned shirt. His hair was unstyled and fluffy and flopped down his forehead, his Gucci sunglasses pushed to the top. He ditched his black leather loafers and went for his white Vans.

“Thanks. Need to compete with you somehow you know,” he says, tucking a wayward strand of her hair behind her hair.

“I got ready in ten minutes. There’s no thought behind this outfit.” She itches her collarbone, and gasps. “Shit. I left my chain. Start the car and I’ll be right back.”

She books it back into the house, making Harry laugh at the way she scampers yelling through the front door. He opens the passenger door and shifts her tote to the back seat, comfortably settling himself there. He fiddles through his phone, trying to find the Abba playlist that they liked listening to while driving. Money, Money, Money starts playing and Harry drums his fingers against the door. Layla and Vasanth come out shouting and Harry turns down the music to hear them better.

“No! It’ll ruin my outfit,” Layla protests.

“It’s not for a fashion statement. It’s for protection. Can you please put this on?” Vasanth insists, holding up his NASCAR Tide zip up jacket.

“No. I’m already covered. Look!” She thrusts her arms - covered by her full sleeve sweater and shirt - in front of him, to get her point across.

“So one more layer isn’t going to do you any harm. I’m only saying this for your good, kutti.” He insists.

“But, please,” she pleads.

“You end up suffering almost every year. I’m just trying to not let that happen. Come on. You know it hurts for me when I see you suffer.” He holds up the jacket for her to put her arms in easier.

She grumbles in defeat, as she slots her arms through the sleeves of the jacket, turning around to zip it close. “You’ve gotta stop treating me like a child. I’m twenty two you know. I know how to take care of myself,” she reminds him. She hands her gold chain with elephant pendant to him and he clasps it around her neck.

“You’re always my kutti, kutti.” He chuckles, puffing out his cheek for her when he’s done securing the chain. She rolls her eyes and kisses his cheek.

“Have fun you two!” He waves, returning inside the house.

“Why are you in my seat?” Layla asks Harry, when she makes her way over to his Range Rover.

“Oh, so this is your seat now, is it?” He asks, with a smirk.

“Yeah. Go on then,” she shoos him over to the other side.

“Nope.” He grins wider, dimples coming out to taunt her further. “I waited outside for so long. It’s only fair now for you to drive me around,” he replies.

She rolls her eyes, taking a deep breath in. Dazzling a smile, the dimple on her left cheek makes an appearance, furiously batting her eyelashes. “Have I told you how cute you loo-”

“Nope.” He laughs. “You already did and it’s not gonna work.” He tosses his keys, and she catches it out of instinct.

“Today is just not my day,” she grunts, making her way to the driver's side. She gets in and shakes her head at him. “You’ve gotta wait. I thought of brushing my hair in the car.”

She grabs her brush from the tote bag from the backseat, and slowly starts working the knots in her hair. She didn’t have time for anything today. She only managed to wash her face, slap on some sunscreen and put on some gloss on her lips. Honey, Honey starts playing and she reaches to increase the volume, while. She goes back to dragging her paddle brush through the length one last time.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, when he sees her wince.

“Just got snagged in my piercing,” he mutters, moving the lock of her hair that got tangled in her conch piercing with a newfound gentleness.

“That still hurts huh?”

“Yeah. My helix took eight months to heal. How’s yours?” She asks, motioning to his pierced lobe. She parts the length of her hair into three equal parts and starts loosely braiding it.

“It’s good. Doesn't throb when I sleep on that side anymore.” He replies, hand going to fiddle with his earring.

“That’s nice. I’m sure your lobe is all healed now. It’s been like fifteen days no?”

He nods. “I’m thinking of changing it and putting a hoop in. What do you think?” He asks, seeing her secure an elastic to secure her braid.

“I think someone is copying my style,” she chuckles, going to pinch his cheeks.

“I think someone is insecure that I’m gonna look much hotter.”

“Calm down, earth boy,” she laughs at his ginormous ego. “Ready to go to breakfast?” She asks, turning on the ignition of his Range Rover, and pulling her seat forward, so her feet can reach the pedal.

“Yup.”

She eases the car out of park and eases out of the driveway towards the restaurant. The two sing dramatically to Knowing Me, Knowing You. Harry finds it absolutely adorable when she puts her hand - the one that’s not on the steering wheel - on his thigh, followed by a lascivious wink; something he would do to her when he’s driving. He finds her even more adorable peering - making the same face she does when she puts on her mascara - over the windscreen, trying to see the edge of the bonnet, hoping to not hit the curb as she parks.

////

She wants everything. Everything from the breakfast menu at Annapoorani’s. They were both downtown at Ganesan’s restaurant. Nandhini and Chandru Ganesan started a chain twenty years ago; they were two in Chapel Hill, one in Charlotte, and another in Raleigh.

“Have you two decided?” Chandru asks the two with a warm smile, peering down at the two of them though the rim of his glasses. His hands were clasped behind his back, making his large gut even more pronounced. He was wearing a classic grey safari suit, which Layla thought was quite cute because she has never seen anyone else wear safari suits since her maternal grandfather. She also found his comb over his bald spot extremely hilarious.

“I’ll take a rava dosa please,” Harry says, putting down his menu at the side of the table. He’s never had a semolina dosa before and the picture and his favourite mint chutney sold him.

“Did you just pick it because of the green chutney?” Layla asks with a knowing smile, and he nods.

“Layla kanna?” Chandru turns towards her.

“Umm… I can’t decide uncle.”

“What are you leaning towards?”

“This vegetable oothapam and the poori with potato and channa gravy. But I can’t finish both,” she states.

“How about this, hmm? Since you are a close friend, I’ll bring in a bit of both. Works?” He suggests.

“Prefect.” She clasps her hand in glee. “Thanks, Chandru Uncle.”

“No problem, kanna. How about chaat for a starter?”

“Chaat for breakfast?” She asks the older man.

“Why not.” He smiles.

“Lovey. Harry, what do you want?”

“How about you decide, I haven’t tried them before.”

“Bhel Puri?” She asks, more so to herself. “Can’t go wrong with that. Do you wanna split one?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay. One Bhel, one rava dosa, half an oothapam and poori?” Chandru Uncle checks.

Once he gets a confirmation, he passes off the bill to one of the waiters and heads over to a navy blue door that says ‘personnel only.’

“So, OnlyFans huh?” Harry says, when they are left alone.

“Yeah.” Layla fiddles with the zipper of her jacket.

“When did you subscribe?”

“I’m not gonna say. Have fun finding me,” she smirks.

“What do you think?” He asks, chipping away at the yellow polish on his nails.

“Why are you nervous, hm?”

“Dunno. Never has someone I care about has seen my OnlyFans…” he trails off.

“Well, I like it. Love it even,” she assures him, reaching over to hold his hands on the table.

His face flushes with colour, a shy smile painting his lips. “I’m gonna need more than that, Lails.”

“I didn’t know you were that creative. I mean, I know you love photography but some of it is skillful. You certainly know your angles around a camera, that’s for sure.”

His smile widens, eyes slowly reaching up to meet hers. “And?”

“And what?” She smirks, not giving in. She knows what exactly he’s fishing for.

“And did the pictures have the desired effect?” He asks, huskily.

Cocky little shit, she thinks.

They get interrupted when she goes to speak. The waiter placed an obscenely large plate of bhel puri in front of them. Layla quickly thanks them while spooning some a heaping spoon into her mouth and does a small jiggle, closing her eyes - savouring that fresh burst of flavour. Harry laughs at her eating some of it as well.

“Yup,” she shyly admits after they’ve finished almost half of their starter.

“Care to elaborate, baby,” he coos.

“I may have gotten myself off once or twice,” she tries sounding, nonchalant as she pushes her braid behind her shoulder.

“Glad I could be of service,” he smirks, spooning some more of the chaat into his mouth, using his other hand to give her a small salute.

“Idiot,” she mutters, shaking his head, using her finger to swipe the stainless steel plate and sucking on the tamarind sauce, revelling in the flavour that she hasn’t experienced in a while.

The waiter comes back with their breakfast order. A crispy rava dosa for Harry that he swore was a foot long and various assortments for Layla. They both thank them and Layla immediately pinches a small piece of the piping hot poori, scoops some potato curry and offers it to Harry.

“More,” he demands, nodding to the oily soft puffy disks on her plate.

“Wanna try it with the channa?”

He nods and Layla feeds him exactly that, making sure to blow on it a few times before popping it into his mouth. He playfully nips at her fingers as he bites down, making her chuckle.

“I like hearing you laugh,” he says as he’s chewing.

“Hard not to, you are quite funny.” She tells him earnestly.

“You’re full of compliments today,” he observes, hand weaving through his soft curls, pushing them away from his eyes.

“As opposed to?”

“As opposed to every other time you jump in to keep me in line,” he shrugs.

“It’s the Tamil breakfast,” she tells him. “I used to make fun of my folks for needing to eat Indian food and not being able to adapt. But I’ve come to realise in these past ten days that I definitely cannot adapt when it comes to breakfast. As much as I love a good waffle and a pancake every now and then I need my savoury in the morning.”

“Hmm. You excited for the art museum?”

“Yup. Can’t wait to go there after this? Still can’t believe I get to see Alphonse Mucha’s work in real life. My sketch books are filled with me copying his art nouveau style. Thank you for getting the tickets. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, dickhead. I love doing this for you.”

////

“Hold on to that end,” Layla distractedly says, as she rolls the waxy parchment to the other end of the kitchen counter. Her brows furrows in concentration as she tries getting the long horizontal paper, perfectly aligned. But when she tugs on it gently to straighten it out the other end comes rolling over and hits her fingers.

“சித்தப்பா (uncle)!” She yells, smacking her palm on the now butter paper covered marble countertop, demanding his attention.

“What?” He distractedly says, looking up for his phone. “I’m setting up a Zoom link so , அம்மா (mum), அப்பா (dad), அண்ணா (elder brother) and அண்ணி (sister-in-law) can join in.”

“You’re not taking this seriously. Please put the phone down and start helping!” She commands, shaking her palm to soothe the stinging sensation shooting up it.

“Why are we even doing this? We’re doing a buffet, no one will even pay attention to how the countertop is decorated when they are playing up food.”

“I will pay attention to it. I’m doing the decorating and I got an okay from Aunty. So can you just do as I say please!” She grits her teeth.

“Fine. What do you want?”

“Get the floral foam from the garage. It’s soaked in that old paint bucket.”

He mutters something under his breath as he walks away from the kitchen and Layla.

“என்னது அது? (What was that?)” She asks, with a tone that signifies that she’s ready to argue.

”ஒன்றுமில்லை! (Nothing!)”

“Yeah that’s what I thought,” she mutters to herself as she gathers the huge piles of fresh flowers that were delivered from Earl’s for the function. She separates the white wildflowers, dark blue orchids and yellow lilies into smaller piles. She cuts some green foliage so she could weave it into the small floral displays she was planning on having it.

Was she being a bossy pain in the ass? She didn’t think so. She was in charge of décor and if it was one thing she did is bring her vision to life. She sat with Earl for hours trying out different combinations of flowers wanting something memorable and unique because this event meant that to her. She plans to have the flowers placed in similar fashion and leave them at the outer edge of the kitchen counter, where the guests would come to get the food. Leaving multiple arrangements would look like the flowers were growing and flowing from the countertop. She knows it would look great, especially in the pictures.

“Here,” her uncle grunts in exertion, as he places the heavy bucket by her feet.

“Okay.” She bends down to pick a narrow rectangular green foam, dipping it back in to let the sponge drip the excess moisture. “We’re gonna put this right at the edge here.” She gestures to the very edge of the parchment covered marble counter. “Touching each other. I don’t want gaps between these foam blocks. It will look unsightly if there are gaps.” She picks up the flowers from the first pile and starts to secure them into the exact positions she wants. Showing her uncle to cut the end of the stems at an angle, so it’s easily pierced into the foam. She moves things around until she’s satisfied with the result and places it on the left corner of the countertop.

“Now what I want you to do…” she turns to her uncle. “I want you to arrange the flowers exactly like this for all these foam blocks. Got it?”

“Alright. I’ll make sure they look like that,” he points to the finished one, “and put them right next to each other.”

She nods.

“Seems easy. Aren’t you gonna start getting ready? Aunty is already prepping upstairs with Anne.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna head up and get my hair done. Aunty’s gonna curl it and that will definitely take a long time, especially taming this rat’s nest of a hair I have. I’ll come down later and set the nalangu things after. That’s the only thing left to do. I’ll have my phone with me, text me if you need anything.” She says, before disappearing up the stairs.

////

Harry walks into the Sathish’s front door to be hit by scents of sandalwood and jasmine. He sees the living room all arranged for the ritual, couches and coffee table pushed aside. Blankets were laid out in the places they once were. The loveseat was placed close to the wall, facing east, there were two tiny circular tables with doilies in front. Two large oxidised silver lamps stood tall - they came all the way up to his calves - next to the small tables. It looked like elephants balancing a ball that was attached to a lamp - filled with oil and had five lamp wicks, which looked like twisted cotton threads, pointing out from the sides unlit. There were these tiny peacocks on the top of the lamp that had a single blue orchid flower on top, like a decoration. Other silver objects were scattered on the loveseat, one still in the brown cardboard box that arrived from India.

“Look at me dead in the eyes and tell me you did not half ass this!” Layla screeches, from the kitchen.

“Layla, language! மரியாதை எங்கே (where’s the respect)?” An older woman scolds.

Harry walks towards the voices to find Vasanth and Layla facing each other. Vasanth looking annoyed, the blue gel patches under his eyes - which Harry has no doubt was Layla’s doing - moving as he rolls his eyes. A phone was perched up on the table and Harry could make out four people on the screen and quickly deciphers that they were Layla’s grandparents and parents. Layla is in her kimono robe, eye makeup done, rollers secured on her head, arms crossed across her chest as she scowls at the floral arrangement on the counter.

“How am I supposed to know, kutti?” Vasanth asks.

“I thought it was common sense to pluck out the weird looking petals, so the flowers look extra fresh.”

“யார் அது (who’s that)?” The older male from the screen asks, noticing Harry.

“Hi!” Layla beams at him. He looked svelte and sophisticated in his black tux. His white shirt was unbuttoned halfway, he had a messy black tie tucked underneath his shirt for some odd reason but it worked. The black Gucci boots added on to his frame and the way his jacket was fastened around his waist, by a single button, really showcased how narrow it was. His stubble was gone, and hair - trimmed - was meticulously styled to a point where his curls seem to have vanished. Rings decorated almost every finger of his, as they hold on to his expensive camera. Layla frowns when her eyes land on his clear nails.

Vasanth quickly notices the family staring at Layla and quickly steps in to serve as a distraction. “Oh. That’s our neighbour’s son. He’s offered to take pictures tonight.”

“That’s very kind of him,” her grandmother says, switching to English to accommodate Harry.

“பாட்டி, தாத்தா, அப்பா, அம்மா (grandmum, granddad, dad, mum) this is Harry. He’s my uh-“ she stops, cheeks heating up, breath hitching when she realises that she was gonna say the word boyfriend.

“Hello. It’s nice to meet all of you. Virtually at least. I’m Harry. You must be Layla’s folks. She’s been a blast to hang out with. We’ve become good friends over the months.” He introduces himself.

The four stare at him and then back to Layla. “எங்களுக்கு ஒன்றும் புரியவில்லை (we didn’t understand a thing), Layla.” Her granddad says.

“Translate,” her father states. “We’re sorry Harry. You talk differently from us,” he tells Harry.

“That’s no problem, sir.” He smiles politely.

“He said உங்களை சந்தித்ததில் மகிழ்ச்சி in FaceTime. He also said I’m fun to hang around with and that we’ve become friends,” Layla translates for them. Harry notices a switch in the way she talks. It’s slower, her accent is much more pronounced - more Tamil. And it’s almost nonexistent when she talks to him. He’s seen her switch her accents around him and Nandhini and Chandru far too many times, he’s no longer impressed by the way she’s a chameleon - unconsciously - in the way that she speaks when she’s around certain people.

“போய் உடுத்திக்கொள் (go put on some proper clothes), Layla.” Her mother says in a low voice. “நீ ஒரு பையனின் முன் இப்படித்தான் நின்று இருப்பை (is this how you stand in front of a boy),” her mother tells her off.

“Okay okay. I just need to put the silver things properly and I’m going upstairs to get ready. It’s why I called you,” she tells them, grabbing on to the phone and making her way to the formal living room.

If only she knew that he’s seen me in much less, she thinks, smirking.

“Pro tip,” Vasanth tells Harry. “Stay away from her till the ceremony ends. She’s psychotic.”

“Hey! I heard that!” Layla calls from the living room.

“I wanted you too!” Vasanth shouts back.

“Pain in my ass,” he mutters, making Harry smile.

“Sometimes you two act like brother and sister,” he comments.

“I’m so glad that I don’t have a sister. I don’t know how you put up with her for so long. How does she not drive you up the wall?

“Anyways, never mind.” Vasanth continues. “Feel free to hang and take some pictures here. Food will be here in a few. I’m gonna get ready in Layla’s room before she’s done arranging. You could start taking pictures of Abi as she’s getting ready.”

“I’ll do just that. I want a couple of shots of the two of you before the ceremony starts. We do that first and I’ll come down.”

The two head upstairs, past Layla talking to her family on FaceTime holding up the silver cups.

“Right or left?”

“Left.” Her grandmum tells her.

She places a silver plate, and puts three small cups on it. “So, sandalwood paste, vermilion and rice in the cups?”

“Yeah. Pluck off some flower petals and mix it in the rice.”

“Wait.” She says. She arranges everything exactly like her grandmum said. She gets the sachet of the sandalwood paste and squeezes it into the first cup. She rifles through the cardboard box and gets the packet of vermilion powder and empties it out in the next bowl. She runs to the kitchen with the third bowl, fills it with rice three fourths of the way, adds a pinch of turmeric and mixes it around with her fingers, so the grains are stained a deep yellow. She heads over and shows it, to her phone screen, to her grandmother. “Is this enough?”

“Yes. You can always get more, if you want,” she replies.

“How many people are coming?” Her mum asks.

“Twenty five, I think. At least that’s how many people I ordered food for.”

She turns around looking for flowers, not wanting to go back to the kitchen again. She picks out the orchids that were on top of the swans on the lamp and tears them into small pieces before adding it into the rice.

“Don’t be so lazy!” Her mother scolds.

“Don’t scold her! There could be guests around, what will they think,” her father directs it to her mother.

“Kutti, விளக்கில் பூ இருக்க வேண்டும் (there needs to be a single flower on the lamp at least),” her grandad adds, much softer.

“I’ll get it later and do it before I light it up. I need to get ready, தாத்தா (grandad).” She says, unscrewing the stem of the rose water sprinkler and filling the voluminous bottom with rose water. She screws on the stem and quickly checks if the water is leaking by tilting it around.

“That’s all, right?”

“ஆரத்தி தட்டு (aarti plate), kutti,” her grandmum reminds her.

She quickly reaches for the silver aarti plate from the loveseat. She quickly pours the remainder of the rose water from the small plastic bottle into this deep dish plate. She picks up some vermilion and mixes it in the water until it turns a bright red colour. She puts this plate carefully on the right.

“I’m going to get ready now,” she says, wiping her red and yellow stained fingers into the kitchen towel.

“Layla, வளையல்!” Her mum reminds her.

“Oh shit, yes,” she reaches over and opens up a plastic box.

“Don’t swear!” They all say collectively.

She rolls her eyes as she arranges the orange and green glass bangles in the remaining space on the silver plate on the left, next to the three bowls and the sprinkler.

“Okay. I’m going to go get ready. Click on the Zoom link and join in about an hour and a half, okay? You all will be there right?”

“Yes.” Her dad chuckles. She was ever the anxious one. “Tell your friend to take solo pictures and send it over.”

“Why?”

“We need a recent picture of you in a saree, so we can start sending it around with your horoscope.” Her mum says.

“No,” she firmly says, shaking her head, heart starting to race. “You promised I get to study.”

“No one’s going to get you married tomorrow. It will take years to find a good match. We don’t even know if you’ll get into a PhD program,” her mother tells her.

“Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence, அம்மா (mum),” she hisses, feeling the heat seeping out of her body, nostrils flaring out in anger.

“Okay. Okay. Calm down, kutti. We obviously want you to get your PhD. We will be very proud when you do get that doctorate,” her grandmother steps in while the two men quitely stare at the women.

“But if we do get a great match, you will need to quit the program. It is five years long and you’ll be twenty eight when you’ll be don-“

“I need to get ready and I need to get rid of the plastic and the boxes. I don’t have time for this now.” Layla quickly presses on the red button, sliding on the button on the side of her phone to effectively silence it and tosses it on the loveseat.

////

Four sharp knocks reverberates through the room, as Layla was fixing the plastic bra strap untwisting it near her shoulder. She thought she would just wear her white spaghetti strap ribbed crop top, but her boobs just wouldn’t work. Sometimes she wishes she could just make her boobs disappear. She did like the outfit though, she didn’t really plan for this ceremony when she was packing for her holiday. So she borrowed a chiffon dusty rose saree from her aunt and paired it with one of her crop tops, as her aunt’s blouse would not fit her. She was quite proud of the way she draped it, creating a perfect silhouette. Not bad for someone who was draping on her own for the second time; although her mermaid saree shapewear and an ungodly amount of safety pins helped. It looked traditional but also had her own spin on it. Her makeup was on point, but she did go in a bit heavy handed with the eyebrow pencil and she didn’t have the time to wipe it off and do it again.

“Come in,” she shouts out over the music that was playing through the speakers.

Harry steps into the room greeted loudly with My Chemical Romance’s Planetary (GO!).

“We’re waiting for you to take some pictures,” he walks in further towards the vanity to find her sitting on the floor, in front of the mirror, sticking a small round bindi on her forehead.

“Wow, baby,” he stops, stunned, eyes fixed on the reflection in the mirror.

“What? It’s the eyebrows, right? I knew it was too boxy,” she mutters, moving her face closer to the mirror.

“No no. You look - wow - I’ve just never seen you in a saree before and fuck - how did I get so lucky, eh?”

“Oh gosh,” she brushes it off, face heating up in response to his compliment. She stands up, albeit with some trouble, and clutching onto Harry’s hand for support. As elegant as a saree looks, they were hard for Layla to move around in. “Give me a second.” She quickly hurries to her bedside table and clasps on her elephant chain and her Winne the Pooh watch. The watch didn’t go with the outfit but it was a part of her. “Ther. All done.” She says slipping in her heels.

Harry bends down to place a kiss to her before she backs away.

“What?” He whines.

“I spent thirty minutes putting on makeup. No way are you gonna come close,” she tells him.

“Come on. I didn’t even get a kiss hello.”

“Fine. Kiss me but not anywhere near my face.”

He groans theatrically, but bends down to seize the opportunity.

“Nah, not my neck either,” she says.

He settles giving her wet kisses right below her collarbone, making her hum as her body sings.

“That feels nice,” she admits.

“I can tell.” She can feel him smirking against her skin, one hand coming to weave her fingers with his.

“Hey do me a favour yeah,” Harry asks.

“Yeah. Of course.”

“I don’t really care but I don’t want you to be embarrassed in front of everyone. Can you um, put makeup on my hickey?” He moves his unbuttoned shirt to the side to reveal a dull pink hickey - he was right, it would be on display every time he moved his arms and with a camera in hand it was hard not to do so. “I tried doing the same thing you taught me, exactly like how I applied foundation on my face but it doesn’t properly cover anything up here.”

“Yeah, you just need to colour correct. Did you bring your foundation?”

He pulls out his Gucci foundation from the inside of his coat pocket and hands it over to her. Layla pats on the bed asking Harry to sit down and when he does she goes on to grab her colour correcting palette and a small makeup sponge.

Harry sees her, use the pad of her ring finger, rubbing circles on the green cream. She then presses it right on the pale pink bruise that she managed to give him right in the valley of his neck and shoulder. She then shakes the foundation bottle and takes a small dollop on the back of her hand and picks it up with the egg shaped sponge and stamps it on top of the green.

“How did you do that?” He asks, looking at the spot in the mirror, astonished to see the bruise gone, just the makeup blended in to look like skin. “Sorcery.”

Layla chuckles. “It’s basic colour theory, earth boy. Green and red are opposing colours, so you use green to neutralise the red.”

“Still! Proper sorcery.” After he fixes up his clothes, his hands come to circle around her pudgy hips.

“You’re such an idiot sometimes, you know,” she coos, with a smile. She caresses his freshly shaven soft cheek, with the back of her fingers, missing the prickly stubble.

“I’d be an idiot if I didn't take a picture of you right this second. Now come on, lay down on the bed.” He tells her.

“Babe, we can do it later. I need to be there to greet -“

“Nope. Nope. Sit your ass down. Mum’s gone to drive Earl over. Vasanth and Abi are FaceTiming Abi’s parents. We’ve got time.”

Layla sighs and she lies down on her white comforter. Harry then positions her face and her hands, tucking her saree, and pulls her hair gently to the right. “Don’t move,” he orders, quickly moving to get the flowers from a vase on top of the dresser - twisting the blooms from the stem. He got her a bouquet from Earl’s two days ago, the flowers were a bit dull but it didn’t matter. He carefully arranged them in her hair, and around the bed and he takes the biggest pale pink peony and tucks it behind her left ear, being very mindful to not irritate her healing conch piercing.

He straddles her upper thighs , knees on both sides of her, holding his camera from above and he looks at his sweet girl through the viewfinder, snapping picture after picture.

“I want some with you,” she says, tugging on the lapels of his jacket, to bring him closer to her.

He chuckles. “Want this sex on a stick right next to you to show off, huh?”

“Oh shut up, you goober,” she smiles, as he lies down next to her.

“Please! I saw the way you were undressing me with your eyes when you were on your call with your family.”

“I wasn’t undressing you with my eyes,” she denies, but the dimple on her left cheek gives her away.

“Whatever you say, dickhead.” He says, raising the camera up.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Thought you didn’t want to ruin your makeup,” she says cockily, arching up an eyebrow.

“I’m allowed to change my mind, Har.” She says, turning to her side, hand coming to chip the side of his jaw - pulling his face to hers, stitching their lips together in a sweet lazy kiss.

He presses down on the shutter, freezing that moment in time, a moment where their fondness for each other was palpable from the way their eyes looked drunk on each other, dimples signalling the mirth that filled the fibre of their being.

////

The ceremony is in full force. House packed with guests, friends, colleagues, neighbours, and their families and kids all under one roof, making the house feel lively as peels of laughter came from kids, who were chasing through the rooms. The men stood in groups chatting away looking at the women performing the nalangu for Vasanth and Abi. Their families in India were on Zoom and an iPad was propped in a strategic corner, where they would be able to see everything. Harry was busy taking pictures of everything, he even managed to take a few candids of guests - laughing, mid conversation, eating something, and hugging. His favourite ones were of Layla talking to the iPad - frustration evident on her face as she explained how to mirror their screens to the TVs, so the live feed display would be much easier to look at. The other one is of Earl and his mum, sitting together side by side, laughing at Vasanth and Layla bickering before the guests had come in.

Nandhini Aunty had explained the rituals to everyone. Turns out every single Tamil family did things differently, something to do with their caste. She went through the process of the nalangu, and why bangles were very important - to help stimulate the baby in the womb with audio, the sound of bangles tinkling against each other. Everyone commented over how gorgeous Abi looks with her orange silk saree that she paired with a floral beaded blouse and was adorned in antique gold ornaments decorating her ears, forehead, neck, hands and waist. Her hair was in a long braid wrapped around with flowers and bedazzled with more jewellery. Vasanth sat next to her, on the loveseat, in a matching orange silk shirt and his white silk veshti. Anne couldn’t help but join in the conversation with others as they guessed the gender of the baby based on Abi’s tummy position, even if the expecting couple did tell them that there would be a gender reveal after the ceremony was over.

“How many was that, kanna?” Nandhini Aunty asks.

“I don’t know. Should I have kept track of how many people did the nalangu?” Layla says, with her eyes wide.

“Eight.” Abi said.

“We need one more person to do it. Cannot be an even number,” Nandhini Aunty states, looking around the room for women who were missed out.

“Layla you do it. You’re old enough,” her grandmother's voice echoes through the iPad.

“Really?” She asks, the corners of her lips twitching up in a smile.

“Yes, kanna. பாட்டி (grandmum) is right. Go ahead. You’ll make it nine and that’s a good number to end on.” Nandhini Aunty says.

“No no.” Vasanth says. “Look at the way she’s smiling. She’s gonna do the thing she did the last time. அம்மா (mum) come on,” he pleads to his mother through the iPad, looking at the sinister smile on Layla’s face as she leaves Harry’s side - she hovered around him the whole time at a respectable distance not wanting to give off any ideas, very cognisant of the fact that her parents were watching - and comes closer to the two of them.

“Her blessing is also important, Vasanth,” his mother scolds him.

“Yeah. You tell him பாட்டி (grandmum),” Layla, hypes her up. Sticking her tongue out at him, tucking the draped end of the saree, in her hip, so it doesn’t catch on fire from the lit silver lamps.

Layla has a wide grin as picks up the rose water sprinkles and shakes, so it drizzles on Abi and Vasanth. Her smile only becomes more sinister, as she eyes at her uncle as she dips the tips of her fingers into the sandalwood paste, she daintily applies it on Abi’s sandalwood smeared cheeks and moves down to do the same to the tops of her forearm. She then picks up some vermilion with her pointer finger and dots it on her forehead. She then picks up four bangles and gently pushes two on each arm of her Aunt, using some moisturiser, so it slips in place. She moves on picking up the turmeric stained rice and flowers and showers it on her head.

“Now the same for your uncle too,” Nandhini Aunty reminds her.

She moves closer to Vasanth, who’s shaking his head as she scoops all the remaining sandalwood paste from the silver bowl, giggling. She smears the woody smelling goop onto his cheeks, smearing it around all over his face, making the room laugh. She does the same to his forearms, spearing a clumpy mess of sandalwood. She then moves on to the vermilion, dotting a small spot on his forehead that is now a pale yellow. She then moves over and throws some rice and flowers on his head, as Abi cackles along with everyone in the room.

“That’s for making me wait with everyone else for the baby’s gender,” she says, sticking her tongue out at him.

“Hey! She kept it from you too!” He points to his wife in an accusatory tone.

“Yeah. But you kept pissing me off the whole day. Aunty didn’t and she looks cute. Can’t say the same for you.”

“Sleep with an eye open, kutti.” He threatens, reaching for a wet wipe Anne hands over to him to wipe off the excess paste from his face.

////

The ceremony was over and the expecting couple announced the baby’s gender and name, making some gasp and others go ‘I knew it.’ Layla’s family and Abi’s parents cried on Zoom knowing their little bundle of joy now has a name. People were now spread all over the house chatting away and eating all the food.

Layla fills up two plates of food from the buffet and heads over to the stairs, where Harry was sat. She pulled him aside during the ceremony, and asked him if they could eat alone and who was he to turn her down. It was traditional to have a variety of assorted rice for the event and both their plates had small servings of coconut rice, raw mango rice, coriander and mint rice, lemon rice, tamarind rice, curd rice, tomato rice, carrot rice and sweetened rice. Layla picked her favourite thayir vadai as the starter, it was sour and the hints of the chaat masala always hit her spot. Harry declined the starter as he does not eat cow milk - the only exception is when Layla makes the occasional mango laasi and her fruit loaded curd rice. She hands him a plate of food with the much larger portion and the one without the curd rice, and sits down on the step on the opposite side.

“Hey. Sorry, I didn’t really interact with you at all. I really didn’t want my parents grilling me,” she says, picking up a pomegranate seed from the curd rice and popping it into the mouth, relishing the way juicy sweetness detonates on her tongue.

Harry digs into the coconut rice first, his favourite. “I figured. It was nice to meet them. Even if it was brief. Didn’t really think I get to. You look so much like your mum!”

She rolls her eyes. “If I had a penny every time someone said that. I actually resemble her little sister more than her; it’s uncanny.” She unlocks her phone and scrolls through her gallery to find a picture of her Aunt. “Look.”

“Shit,” he says, looking at her. If he thought Layla looked like her mother, she was a carbon copy of her Aunt. The same chin, eyes, forehead, lips, their only difference was their noses but not by much - Layla’s was a little longer and her cheeks more fuller.

“Yeah.” She chuckles. “It freaked my maternal grandparents out. They said it was like watching my Aunty grow up again, but my granddad always told me my cheeks were more pinchable than hers, and that I had alien ears.” She giggles. “My lobes are attached, literally no one in my family does,” she explains.

“You are a walking cornucopia of recessive genes,” he laughs with her.

“Tell me about it.”

They eat in ease a blanket of silence that they both found enjoyable. Both basking in each other’s company after three hours of interacting with everyone else. Dhruv, Ashwin plops down on the staircase unceremoniously next to them, each with a bowl of thayir vadai. “Hey guys,” they both chirp.

“Sorry, we needed a break from the oldies,” Dhruv says.

“I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Ashwin.” He waves to Harry, not wanting to shake his hand as Harry’s using his to eat.

“Hey. I’m Harry.” He smiles, warmly.

“I’m Dhruv. Nice to meet you, man. My sister will also join us in a few. She’s changing the baby.”

“Hey, Layla, you ready to beat our highscore?” Dhruv asks.

“High score?” Harry looks at her confused, clearly out of the loop.

“Oh, um, Ashwin, Pooja, Prasath, Dhruv and I went for a movie in Raleigh the day before. Dhruv and Ashwin came over to play Overcooked after,” she fills him in.

“We made quite the team,” Ashwin says with a sweet smile directed at Layla, in a tone that irked Harry.

“Why wasn’t I invited?” He asks Layla, the corners of his mouth turning downwards.

“Oh, sorry, babe. You were with Earl that day, helping him with the weeds. Didn’t wanna disturb you.” She tells him, squeezing his left hand as an apology.

“We should do it again. Watch another Tamil movie again. It was so much fun,” Dhruv says.

“We shou-” Layla gets interrupted by Dhruv’s sister, Pooja.

Pooja. Layla’s heart immediately starts hammering. The first time she saw her was when they were headed to the theatre, she felt herself becoming extremely flustered. She’s never come across a woman in real life who managed to catch her attention like that. She was drop dead gorgeous. Layla can’t help but let her eyes rake through her standing figure, she had a thick mane of curly raven hair, hooked nose, streamlined eyes that were lined with a thick ring of kaajal, full lips, her cheeks had a rosy hue to them no matter what accentuating her pitted scars that were a remnants of her acne - she often found herself tearing her eyes away from Pooja’s cheeks. Her shoulders were broad and her hips narrow, pudges around her tummy and hips, and legs that were long and slender. She was a bharatanatyam dancer, so naturally she was expressive and animated. The brief conversations she had with Layla were livey, and loquacious.

“Ash, you forgot this,” she says, handing him a small white box - that was wrapped in a baby pink satin ribbon - from the diaper bag.

“Thanks.” Ashwin says, face heating up, handing Layla the box.

“For me?” She asks, surprised.

“Yeah. You mentioned that you loved elephants, and I couldn’t help but think about you when we went to the pottery shop.”

“No, I shouldn’t,” Layla says, hesitantly.

“I insist, Lails.” Ashwin thrusts the box on her lap.

“We did the wine and paint thing, yesterday, at the studio downtown,” Dhruv tells her.

“Oh, Layla and I went there on a date,” Harry says, moving closer to her, wrapping his free arm around her.

“We had so much fun! I made Harry a ring dish and he still uses it,” she says, struggling to open the box with one hand, oblivious to her boyfriend’s bristling energy next to her in response to Ashwnin using Layla’s nickname.

“Oh my god! Harry! Look! It’s perfect!” She squeals, showing him two miniature ceramic elephants in a bed of cotton - one ash in colour and the other a darker blue green with light pink at the ears.

“Thank you!” She says, going to hug Ashwin. He returns the hug awkwardly.

She stands up to go get dessert for everyone and comes back with small ramekins filled with tender coconut pudding topped with an exorbitant amount of sliced almonds and pistachios. They each take one.

“Oh, Ashwin, that one’s for Harry,” she informs, handing him another ramekin.

“What’s so special about it?” He chuckles, passing it to Harry.

“It’s all from Chandru Uncle’s restaurant, right?” Pooja asks.

“All of ours is, his isn’t.” She tells them, going back to sit next to him, wrapping her arm around his waist when Harry immediately throws his hand over her shoulder.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Harry’s doesn’t consume a lot of cow milk, so I made one from him with oat milk.” She says.

“Lactose intolerance?” Dhruv asks.

“Most white people are,” Ashwin mocks and it makes Harry want to punch him.

“That’s not very nice. He does so for environmental reasons,” Layla tells them. “I hope you like it. I don’t know if it’ll taste the same,” she tells Harry.

A blush creeps across his face and neck, the tip of his ears turning hot. “Thank you, baby.” He says taken back, kissing her cheek, brushing a stray stand away from her neck. He did not expect her to make something just for him, especially with all the other things she had on her plate today. It warmed his heart.

////

“So, a baby girl, huh?” Earl asks.

Harry, Earl, Anne were sitting on the kitchen island, while Vasanth was washing up the silver utensils that his mother shipped from Chennai. Everyone had made their way home, quietness creeping into the walls that were bouncing off exuberance a few minutes ago. Abi and Layla were in the family room, both with their feet up on the coffee table. Layla on the phone with her cousin trying to reboot her computer; following his instructions to try and reinstall windows again to her laptop that abruptly died on her when she was editing her and Harry’s paper with the suggestions from the journal editing theme. Abi was talking to her parents about the birthing and lactation classes she signed up for with Vasanth, and working out the dates they were coming over to help her along with the birth.

“Yeah. We were hoping for a girl too,” he smiles, as he uses a rag to polish up the silver as per his mum’s instructions.

“I love her name. Laya. It’s so precious.” Anne gushes.

Harry smiles, remembering Layla’s face when they told her that the baby’s name was inspired by her. Instead of gasping and being elated, she just stood there quiet, eyes cast on the floor - uncomfortable having all the attention on her, unable to process that she’s being honoured. Very Layla. All he wanted to do was to pull her warmth in and soothingly encompass her against his chest.

“Still can’t believe you two named her after Layla,” Harry says, clicking around in his MacBook as he exports the pictures from his SSD, so he could edit.

“We always knew that we wanted to do that. She is her big sister after all. Honesty, if Laya turns out to be half the person Layla is, it’s a job well done for us,” he tells them earnestly.

“So all ready to be a father, huh?” Earl asks.

“I mean, I kinda already am,” he tells them, cocking his head in the direction of Layla. “I’ve never been just an uncle, you know. சித்தப்பா literally translates to small father. Her dad had to move to Delhi for work when she turned two. He was there for like three years. I was there for almost everything. Potty training, diaper changes, first wipeout on her bicycle with training wheels, bedtime stories, tantrums, dropping her off at school, teaching her how to golf, taking her to the zoo, and the planetarium on the weekends. She was such a well behaved extroverted kid growing up but she had this need for speed,” he chuckles before continuing. “She would sit on the motorbike or open up the sunroof, stick her head out of the car and demand to go faster and faster. She was so carefree. I sucked when I had to leave her to the US. She would act all grown up and mature so she wouldn't hurt my feelings but she’d cry to my mum every other day, convincing her to stop me from moving. When I came back three years later, she had completely changed. She was quiet, anxious, flighty, and just lost the child in her - like she was a husk of the Layla I knew…” He trails off.

“Sorry.” He shakes his head. “To answer your question Earl, I feel every bit like a father. I feel very prepared but I also know it will be a complete experience. I’m excited. Abi is too. She cried when the doctor told us. She’s always wanted a little girl.”

Vasanth’s phone chimes and he calls out, “Layla!”

“என்ன (What)?!?”

“People from Chandru Uncle’s restaurant have come in to pick up the buffet utensils.”

“Okay.”

“I thought you wanted to be the one to return it back to them,” he clarifies.

“I did. Give me a minute.”

“Now! A minute is never really a minute with you. They’re waiting out in the cold, Layla!”

“Okay. Okay. I’m going now,” she groans, pushing her laptop on the couch cushion, and walking into the kitchen to pick up the buffet food containers and lugging them to the front door.

“Do you want any help?” Harry asks.

“No, that's alright. Only got five more. Thanks.” She smiles, picking two more of them and making her way to the foyer.

“Harry,” Anne prods.

“I offered. She’s got this mum,” he says, fiddling around with the colours of the picture of Layla on her bed in Lightroom.

“I didn’t raise a degenerate. You should do it without asking, love.”

He sighs, pushing himself off the stool. He would have done that but he really wanted to finish editing all of Layla’s pictures, to surprise her tonight. He picks up the rest of the stainless steel utensils and heads over to the foyer where Layla was talking to three people, one of whom he recognised was their waiter from the breakfast date.

“Thank you so much! The food was delicious. Everyone loved it. That புளியோதரை (tamarind rice) was to die for! I know you all work behind the scenes but you really made the event really special. It means a lot to me and Aunty and Uncle. I told Chandru Uncle that I’ll swing by the restaurant in a few days to thank the chef and the cook. Phenomenal jobs. Please send them my appreciation until then.” She smiles.

A middle aged man speaks up, with a smile stretched across his face, deep creases evident on his cheeks that curve along the curve of his lips. “நான் பதினைந்து வருடங்களாக இந்த வேலையில் இருக்கிறேன். மக்கள் பொதுவாக என்னை கவனிக்க மாட்டார்கள். யாரும் வந்து எங்களுக்கு தனிப்பட்ட முறையில் நன்றி சொன்னதில்லை.( I have been working in this job for fifteen years now. People usually don't pay attention to me and my colleagues. Never have I had someone come and thank us personally. It means a lot.) God bless you, ma,” he says.

Although Harry doesn't know the language, he can decipher what he’s conveying by the embarrassed covers his girlfriend’s face.

////

“You know what would be perfect with this?” Layla asks Harry.

It was much later at night, she had bought the five remaining of his famous raspberry thumbprint cheesecake cookies. It was the easiest and quickest recipe he’d learnt at the bakery he worked at. He baked it for her yesterday, he really wanted to make it with fig preserve - her favourite - but she was too demanding and hungry for him to make a quick run to the store.

“A kiss for the baker?”

“Funny.” She says, biting into the ice cold cookie, dusting the crumbs off her fingers over the baby blue ceramic bowl. “Isn’t the phrase actually kiss the cook?”

“What’s the difference?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “But I do know that I want a glass of milk before I wipe off my makeup and head to bed.” She turns over and directs the sweetest smile to him.

“Fine. I’m going,” he chuckles, popping the last cookie into his mouth, wiping his fingers on his suit trousers as he makes his way out of the room with the empty bowl.

She quickly makes her way to the bathroom to remove the safety pins from her saree. She’d pinned some wacky places together to compensate for her inexperienced draping. She examines her face in the mirror, the light beaming off the grease on her face makes her huff out frustratedly. She scoops out the yellow cleansing balm from an aluminium jar to melt off her makeup. She squirts a small dollop of face wash onto her fingertips and starts lathering up her face, and washes it off with water. She pats her face dry with a towel and walks to find Harry on her bed, swiping through the touchpad of his laptop; a big glass of milk on her nightstand. She chugs it down in a very unladylike fashion and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before crawling on the bed.

“What are you doing, hmm?”

“Going through pictures from the ceremony. I think I’m gonna print it out and make a photo book for Vasanth and Abi.”

“Harry, you don’t have to do that. You taking pictures today was a great hel-“

“But I want to. Imagine how cute it would be for little Laya to look at once she’s older,” he informs, smiling at the thought.

“It’s still weird.” She chuckles.

“What? Her name?”

“Hmm. Plenty weird.”

“Hey, if someone named a baby after me I’d be on cloud nine.”

“I’m sure! It’ll feed right into your narcissism. Imagine if Aunty and Uncle named her after you. Something stupid like Harriet. Yuck!”

“Hey! I think Harriet is a great sounding name for a baby,” he defends.

“Yeah. Great sounding name to get bullied in school.”

He laughs, carefree and boyishly, crinkles by the corner of his eyes, gums peeking out from under his lips and dimples etching onto the curve of his cheeks.

“How is that you manage to insult me every time before we have sex?”

“How are you so sure we’re gonna have sex?” She arches her brows.

“Oh please. You’re still in your saree. Waiting for me to take it off.”

“I’m not waiting! I just wanted to um - I wanted you to take a few more pictures of me.”

“Really?”

“Yup.” She holds her head up high.

“Didn’t you send a paper plane asking me to come back here to sleep knowing full well I went home to put the lightbox and camera away?” He smirks.

“I uh… I forgot. Go get it! Now!” She insists, trying hard not to smile to maintain her imperious façade.

“Please. Just admit that you want me! You’ve been salivating over me ever since I walked in!” He exclaims, trying to break her, closing his laptop and putting it on the floor.

“I may have spared a glance at your direction once or twice,” she haughtily says, tossing her curls behind her shoulder.

“And what about when you followed my ass around with your eyes, when I squatted to get a picture of Abi and Vasanth on the loveseat. Or did I imagine that?”

She looks down at her duvet, face heating up, a shy smile tugging the corners of her lips. “Didn’t know you were paying attention to me…”

“I always pay attention to you.” He mumbles, hand coming to cup her cheek. “Now come on, are you going to kiss the cook who made you cookies and bought you a glass of milk?”

She moves closer to him, lips against his ear, forehead pressing against his temple and mutters, “More like kiss this cock.” She leaves a wet kiss on the spot right below his ear, smiling when he draws in a sharp breath. “And seeing how you’re still in your tux tells me that it’s sole purpose of you leaving it on was to seduce me.”

“Now that we’ve both cracked each other’s game, don’t you think it’s time to take off our clothes?”

“Sounds like a great plan to me.”

They both shuffle out of bed and Harry reaches forward to tug Layla’s saree off. She quickly takes off the crop top, unhooks her bra and tosses it on the floor. Harry is busy unwrapping her skirt like draping that was tucked into the space between her hip and her skirt.

“Jesus, how long is this thing?” He says exasperatedly, trying to unwind the fabric, and when he gets to the end, he tug it off, leaving her only in her black shapewear and her heels. He hooks his thumb into the spandex band of her skirt, wiggling it off from her body - along with her panties - as he trails wet kisses down her throat.

Layla pushes off the outrageously expensive suit jacket after she unfastens the single button of his suit jacket. Fingers quickly working to unbutton his shirt, she kisses his chest after prying open a button, fingers coming to tease his nipples.

“Baby, please,” he whines loudly.

“Shh! My room isn’t soundproof like yours,” she scolds him, hand coming to clamp on his mouth, feeling a warm flush of embarrassment wash over her body at the idea of her uncle and aunty hearing it.

He nods, and she removes her palm. Stepping out of the blush coloured pool of chiffon fabric, tripping when the fabric gets caught in her heel, Harry comes to steady her, gipping her forearms tightly.

“Leave your stilettos on,” he says. “I reckon they’d look pretty hanging off my shoulders.”

Layla chuckles, leaving her heels on, dropping to her knees and quickly unzipping his pants. Heat pools at the bottom of her belly, as she sees his growing bulge strain against the fabric, straining for some space. She pulls down his pants and his briefs to his knees, wasting no time before she grabbing on his length and mouthing at the tip.

He grunts, hands coming to bury in her hair, eyes screwing shut as she licks a flat stripe up the underside of his length, thumb messily spreading the precome around his head. She looks up at him with bleary eyes, as she swirls his tongue around him, moaning - a sound that shoots right up his spine, toes curling. She squeezes his thigh and he slowly starts moving his hips to and fro, thumb drawing circles on her cheek.

“Shit, so so good, sweet girl.”

She gags around him as he drives in deeper and he looks down to check on her. Once she gives him a thumbs up, he moves again, looking down at the way she’s slobbering over him. Desire tingles through his body, as he lets his body take over moving in and out slowly and he hits a spot at the back of her head. Layla gags, flinching at the feeling and he immediately pulls off, before she can pinch his thigh to stop.

“Fuck, you okay? Sorry.” He gets to his knees, eyes examining, his hand coming to wipe the mix of drool and his precome down her chin.

“Yeah. It just tickled.” She tells him, blinking back the tears as she lets out a cough.

“Come on up on the bed,” he says, licking his lips, she sits down at the end. He kicks off his trousers and his hands splays across her thighs, coming to part her knees, as he lowers himself.

“As much as I love when you go down on me, babe, I really want you to fuck me.” she mumbles, hands coming to twist in his hair, pulling him up.

She pulls his face to hers, and kisses him. Biting down on his bottom lip, tasting the raspberry from earlier, as he whimpers into her mouth. Harry lays on top of her - relishing warmth and the way her breasts were pressed up against him, tongue licking into her, tasting the honey he mixed in with the milk. Layla grunts when he slips his fingers inside her, hands coming to tug at his trimmed locks.

“It’s too short,” she complains, frowning at the fact that she can’t grab at it like she used to.

“Well, I had to cut it! It was becoming too shaggy.” He defends himself.

She jolts in pleasure, when his thumb comes to draw tight circles on her clitoral hood, as his fingers curl up against her front wall.

“Stop moving,” he mumbles into her panting mouth, making a relentless come hither motion against her sweet spot.

“Make me.” She challenges squirming against him.

He quickly removes his digits and licks them clean, moving to get a condom from her bedside drawer. He makes quick work of tearing open the foil and rolling it down his length. He crawls over to her, grabbing a pillow and wedging it under her bum, before climbing over her. He quickly slips into her warmth, burying himself to the hilt, making her moan as he bottoms.

“Fuck, sweet girl, always feel so good for me,” he praises, as he suckles a bruise on her neck.

He moves slowly, letting her get used to the angle, she writhes underneath him - the way her bum was propped up made it so that he grazed her sweet spot every time he thrusts in. She wraps her legs around his hips, the end of her pointy heel digs into the swell of his ass, making him mutter a string of profanities.

“Shit. Har! You always fuck me so good.” She breathes out, nails scratching down his back.

“Yeah?” He asks.

She nods in response, closing her eyes and throwing her head back into the mattress, hands coming to grab at her bouncing breasts to anchor herself as she climbs to her peak steadily.

“Tell me,” he prods, sitting back on his knees, lifting one of her knees and throwing it over his shoulder. He thrusts back in again, moving with urgency, like he wanted to crawl inside her body.

“Tell me,” he urges her again over the wet noises their bodies were creating. “Tell me that I make you feel so good.”

She blinks up into his jade irises, mouth parting open in pleasure, as he bites into the jiggly soft flesh of her dimply thigh. “You’re the best I’ve ever had. The only one I’ve ever had.” He gasps, as the heat sears through her body as he keeps up his relentless pace.

He watches her carefully, hand coming to cup her cheek. He pulls the pillow from under her and pushes it aside, dropping her thigh down as he flushes himself against her and rubs his nose against her with a dopey smile spreading across his face. “Does that mean you’re mine, sweet girl?”

“Yours. No one else's,” she mumbles back with sincerity, kissing him fiercely.

“I belong to you too. From the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he confesses, eyes blinking back the tears, burning his face into the crook of her neck, he rocks back and forth slowly. “I love you, Layla.”

She clutches onto the broad expanse of his shoulder, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she pulses around him, sinking her nails into his ass as she rides it out. She blinks back up and kisses his cheek. “You are my favourite person, Harry.”

It makes his dick twitch as his orgasm bubbles up in the bottom of his spine. “I’m close,” he whimpers into her sweaty neck.

“Come on then. Let go,” she coos, brushing back the stands of matted chestnut brown hair that stuck to his damp neck.

He exhales loudly in pleasure as he stills deep inside of her, filling up the condom. He collapses on top of her, cheek nestled between her breasts. He moves to slip his softening prick out of her but she grips onto his love handles holding him in place - a perseverating gesture of hers, wanting to bask in the afterglow a little longer. He smiles against her chest, kissing the heated sweaty skin, hand moving to scratch her scalp.

Oscar Wilde was wrong, he thinks. Living is not better than existing. He has clearly never been in love. Because merely existing with Layla is a life worth living.

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

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hansolmates · 4 years ago

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shiver | 16

banner done by the faaaabulous @dee-ehn / @dnrequests

summary; your childhood crush jeon jungkook has changed since he moved out of his small town church community and attended college. when he returns for a christmas mass, you suddenly crave a taste of his fun and carefree life. in exchange, jungkook craves a taste of you pairing; bad boy!jungkook x church girl!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers, brief childhood friends to enemies, fwb!au, coercion, manipulation, catholic guilt, jungkook is a meanie who eventually turns into a soft tsundere, bicuriosity, sexual exploration, virgin!oc, eventual smut w/c; 1k a/n; i... have no excuses. i really spent all of yesterday watching george lopez and eating pasta... i regret nothing!! here it is, the last drabble in the series! these two really need to learn how to communicate kfjsd;lfjsfs;dl. i will post the teaser for the finale this week, which will include the release date and time. thank u so much for riding this journey w me, can’t wait to see the end together! i will be reopening the taglist for the finale, so feel free to shoot me an ask or reply. enjoy! [shiver masterpost]

“I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either,” Sana echoes, looking up at your bedroom ceiling. There’s glow-in-the dark stars, cheap plastic that you and Sana tacked to the wall with some jumping and an Ariana Grande playlist.

“Why won’t he fuck me? I mean, we’ve done everything else.”

“Wow, you saying fuck is still so weird to me. I like it though.”

“Sana. Focus.”

“Right, sorry.” You can’t see Sana because you’re both still staring at the ceiling. The tack you got at the dollar store is very cheap, and you’re both placing bets on which plastic star will fall first. The first shooting star on the left is what your money’s on. “Well, I for one think the answer is obvious.”

“Which is?”

“He likes you.”

“He doesn’t,” you snort, “he’s seen all the terrible and weird sides of me. I was so, so obsessed with him as a kid. Would follow him everywhere like a little duckling, packing extra cookies to give to him and always letting him copy my homework. It’s embarrassing.”

“He’s gotta like you, even just a little,” Sana’s bursts of confidence have been building you up since the beginning of the semester. It never feels rushed or forced when it comes from your dear friend, instead it feels like an unraveling, an eye-opening confidence that you should’ve come to long ago, “He’s done this—albeit, fucked up favor for you because he cares about you, and he wanted you to feel comfortable about something that’s made you uncomfortable.”

“I guess,” you whisper, more to yourself than to your bed partner. You clutch the sheets across the stomach, preparing yourself to bring the subject up later tonight.

You could kiss Jungkook for hours.

Why haven’t you two done this before? Kissing is amazing! In fact, you might even like it a little more than the foreplay.

Okay not really, but kissing is very nice (especially when it’s kissing with Jungkook).

With no end in mind, you two are lazily kissing on his little couch, pressed up against his chest in fear you’ll fall off. His arm wraps around your waist, his other hand playing absently playing with the buttons of your blouse. Jungkook’s nail flicks across the small plastic, mingling with the soft sitcom playing in the background. His lips are soft and taste like strawberry lip balm, the brand that tastes strikingly similar to the one you let him borrow a few weeks ago. He’s the definition of comfort, with his cotton sweats and glossy hair that smells like his peach hair mask. The air is soft and familiar, and with spring on the horizon your bare legs can comfortably rest and give him full access to your heated skin.

He kisses you like you’re the last drop of pleasure on earth, as if your taste is the last thing he’ll feel.

He makes your insides sing electric, your body buzzing with a vigor you can only describe as bliss.

Just as you’re about to climb on his lap however, Jungkook breaks away from you. The spell dissipates like a hazy fog, clearing to reality.

“I need to tell you something,” he’s breathing heavily, his chest moving up and down from his white t-shirt. His lips are glossy and his hair is messy, and you try to tamp down any of those thoughts because Jungkook looks serious. Upon closer inspection, he seems distressed.

“Okay,” you reply, folding your hands over your skirt, “is everything alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just,” Jungkook can’t even look at you in the eye, flickering back and forth between your gaze and the television, “we can’t have sex.”

With a singular blink, you reel away. It’s as if the air has stilled, the breathing you’ve been doing so naturally suddenly becoming hard to grapple for.

“We can’t?”

“I don’t want to,” Jungkook clarifies, pulling the words as fast as he can as if it pains him to say it, “I’m sorry.”

Your palms start to sweat, your words catch in your throat and you suddenly feel very hot. Not in an attractive way, but the way a small child feels when they’ve been refuted or denied something. “Why?”

“The reason why I refused the first time,” Jungkook replies vaguely, “it’s wrong.”

“I’m wrong?”

“No, never—” Jungkook makes no moves to touch you even though he’s trying to soothe you. Five minutes ago everything was fine, and now he just pulls this! “It’s just. You shouldn’t be having sex with me, you should be having sex with someone you love. Someone you’ve fallen for and will take care of you.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t that person?” you snap back, sitting up straighter.

He shakes his head, getting up from the couch, “You don’t love me. What you feel is puppy love, it’s whatever leftover feelings you’ve felt over the years. I want you to fall in love for real.”

What he’s saying, is so stupid! You don’t know what complex he has, what conversation or what he’s heard to make him convince himself this, but you don’t like it. “If you don’t want me Jungkook, you can just say so,” you reply bitterly, fighting the sting in your eyes as you watch Jungkook approach his bedroom door, “don’t tell me what I want or need.”

“Fine,” Jungkook mutters, “you should go.”

There’s a lot of things you could be doing right now to make him stay. Between the two of you, you’re supposed to be the more logical one. Think, think!

Yet when you come up with a few choice actions, it plays out in your head all muddled and blurry. You can’t imagine Jungkook weakening when he puts his mind to something, clouded by his own judgement.

More importantly, you’re scared. Scared that if you say something so deep and profound, he wouldn’t want you at all.

You watch with an open mouth, glaring holes into Jungkook’s back as he closes the door to his bedroom behind him, effectively shutting you out.

#kwritersworldnet #btsguild #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fic

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nugnthopkns · 4 years ago

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dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. “It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

#ryan graves imagine #ryan graves x oc #ryan graves fic #colorado avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey imagine #hockey fic #cwrites #dmtteol

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atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Burning Love - Part Two

a/n: here’s part two! The dang gif I’ve been using didn’t feel like showing up, but the yoga one actually works for this part, enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are helpful! Support me here if you’re able! (not proofread)

Warnings: cocky!Harry flirting, a whole mess of angst, mentions of blood, fluff, and smut!

Words: 5K

Pairing: Harry x OC (kindergarten teacher Danielle Robinson)

Masterpost

After his date with Danielle, Harry went out to grab a couple of drinks with his friends. This resulted in him going home with one of his usual hookups. He never claimed to be a saint. Shauna was a lovely woman, and usually down to fuck when Harry wanted it. She just happened to be at the same bar as him, and he wanted to make sure she got home alright.

He didn’t kiss her, though, at least not on the lips. He didn’t want to taint the nice kiss he had with Danielle. Harry was just looking to get off, and he didn’t feel like using his own hand tonight. Shauna was going to town, bouncing up and down on his dick, letting out sweet moans. Usually Harry would put a little more effort in, but he was almost disappointed. He’d rather be fucking Danielle. Well, he’d rather be having a nice conversation to her that would perhaps lead to some hot love making because he felt like that’s what she deserved, but still…Shauna just wasn’t doing it for him.

“Is it good for you?” She pants.

“Hm, yeah, keep going, I’m almost there.” He thrusts up into her and her head rolls back. She reaches to rub her own clit, and he spills into the condom. Once they’re both cleaned up, he gets dressed and sighs heavily. “Hey, uh, I don’t wanna be an ass or anything, but I think this is the last time I can do this with you.”

“Oh…um…can I ask why? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No, no, you were great.” He gives her hand a squeeze. “It’s just…I met someone, and I’d like to see where things go with her. I wouldn’t feel right if we kept doing this.”

“I get it.” Shauna swallows. “Well, thanks for letting me know.” She sighs.

“Thanks for understanding.” He pecks her cheek. “I’ll see you around.”

As Harry was driving home, he actually couldn’t believe that he fucked someone after going out on a perfectly lovely date with Danielle. He felt like scum, and he was glad he broke things off with Shauna. Harry could be classified as a kind playboy. He fucked, but he wasn’t in the business of breaking hearts. And maybe when he first met Danielle, he would have liked to just take her into her classroom closet and fuck her, but the more he saw of her over the week, he felt a fondness for her start to grow. He’s never really been a one-woman kind of guy, but there was something special about Danielle that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. If he were to ever settle down with someone, he would want to do it with a woman like her. So, he knew he needed to cut the shit, and cut off anyone else he didn’t want to potentially get serious with.

On Monday, between her groups, Danielle was just about to dive into her tuna pita pocket when she heard a knock on her door. She sighs and stands up, wondering who it could possibly be. When she opens the door her mouth falls open when she sees Harry.

“H-Harry, hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles. “Thought I’d pop in since I know this is when you’re usually having lunch. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, come in.” She steps aside and closes the door once he makes his way in. “Did you have a nice rest of your weekend?”

“I did, thanks.” He nods and then smirks when he sees her lunch on her desk. “I interrupted your lunch.”

“I was just about to eat, so you weren’t really interrupting anything.” She walks over to him. “This is a nice surprise.”

“Good, I’m glad you think so.” He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close to him, eliciting a surprised gasp from her.

She presses her hands to his chest as he kisses her. She lets him nibble and suck on her bottom lip again. She opens up a bit to get some air, and he takes this as an opportunity to lick into her mouth. He swirls his tongue around hers, and then goes back to biting her bottom lip before letting her go. She looks at him absolutely stunning.

“Um.” She takes a piece of gum out of her mouth. “I wasn’t chewing this before.”

“S’mine, sorry.” He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue, and she places the gum back onto it. “Thanks.” He smiles. “Well, I’ll see you later.” He starts to walk away, but she grabs his wrist.

“Wait, is that all you came here for?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” She furrows her brows at that. “Was thinking about how nice it was kissing you the other night, and I really wanted to kiss you again, so I came here.” He reaches to tuck some hair behind her ear. “Is that okay?”

“Well…you could have texted me first. What if I had already started to eat my tuna? I would have been mortified.”

“Then I would have just let you keep my gum in your mouth.” He shrugs. “No big deal, love. Oh, I was also wondering how you’d feel if I came to one of your yoga classes on Friday.”

“You’d…really wanna do that?”

“Sure! I do yoga at home all the time. I meditate too, helps me unwind. I’d love to come to one of your classes, you know, help support. Then we could grab a drink or something afterwards…if you wanted.”

“Yeah! Sure, that sounds great. Um, let me give you one of my cards so you know where the studio is.” She rushes over to her purse and pulls out a card for him. “Here.”

“Thanks, so I’ll see you Friday?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “I’m glad you came to visit.”

“Me too.” He pecks her lips and then heads out. Just once she’d like to not feel so flustered by him.

On Friday, Harry came to Danielle’s second class, which was at 5:15. He sets up in the back as to not make her nervous, but he still gives her a small wave. She waves back and a few of her friends give her a surprised look. Danielle notices that he’s wearing a long a sleeve tee. What in the actual fuck was so bad about a naked mermaid?

“Good evening everyone, we’re going to get started. Are there any particular areas you’re hoping to focus on?”

“Lower back!” Someone shouts.

“Arms!” Another person shouts.

Danielle gets her playlist ready, and begins the warm up. She has everyone reach above their heads, and then bend at the waist, breathing in and out slowly. The lights in the studio were dim, and the entire environment just felt extremely calm. Harry was enjoying it already. Danielle may have said she liked listening to Harry, but Harry liked listening to her just the same. Some of the yoga moves got more intricate as time went on, but no one minded. It made the cool down all the more rewarding.

“Now, I’d like you all to lay flat on your backs, close your eyes, and just focus on your breathing.” She says calmly and watches to make sure everyone does so. She sits down cross legged on her mat and closes her own eyes. “Let everything else drift away, nothing matters right now in this space.”

After about five minutes of meditation, the class ends, and everyone starts to pack up. Two of Danielle’s friends come up to her, and they share hushed giggles about the ‘cute guy in the back’.

“Shh, he’s coming over here.” She says to them. “Hi, Harry…these are my friends, Jen and Christine.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you both. “Sorry if I’m stealing Danielle from your girl’s night.”

“Oh, please, steal Dani all you want.” Jen laughs. “We can survive a Friday night without her.”

“Yeah, you two kids have fun.” Christine winks at Danielle and they both scoot out.

“Dani, huh?” Harry smirks.

“Sorry, you’re not privy to that nickname yet.” She smirks back at him.

He laughs and then leans in to speak closer to her ear.

“Challenge accepted.” He whispers and then steps back, grabbing both of their gym bags. “Do you need to go home first or anything?”

“No, I don’t usually break a sweat doing this.” She chuckles. “What bar did you want to go to? I can just follow you there.”

“You pick, it’s only fair since I picked the last spot.”

“Oh, well, have you ever been to Casey’s? That’s usually one of my go to’s.”

“Yeah, that place sounds familiar. Works for me.” He smiles and they both walk out to the parking lot.

Harry follows Danielle there, and then they both head inside, grabbing a high top to sit at.

“What’s your drink tonight?” He asks her.

“I’d love a vodka-tonic with lime, if you don’t mind.”

“Coming right up.” He says, kissing her cheek before heading up to the bar.

He had left his phone on the table, facing upwards. It wasn’t Danielle’s fault that when it lit up it caught her eyes. It also wasn’t really her fault that Harry didn’t have his texted on private, so she could clearly see what it said.

Shauna: H! Hey, I know you said you were sort of seeing someone, but I miss your cock, baby. I’m not gonna beg, but please consider stopping by tonight…I’ll let you put it in my ass, know how much you like that 😉

Danielle was shocked, to say the least. Although, Harry never explicitly said he was single. And the text from this Shauna person makes it seem like he wasn’t looking to see her anymore. Was Danielle the person he was seeing? It had only been a couple of weeks, he could be seeing a few different women. He liked to do anal…Danielle wasn’t sure if she was comfortable with that. She gets the sudden urge to stand up and leave, run out the door, block Harry’s number and pretend like they never met. But before she can do that, he’s back at the table with their drinks.

“Here you are.” He smiles as he places it down on the table.

“Thanks.” She says flatly. She notices that Harry just pockets his phone without even checking the text, and she scoffs slightly to herself as she takes a sip of her drink. “Your phone lit up while you were at the bar.”

“Oh? I’ll check it later, I don’t really like being on my phone when I’m on a date.” He grins.

“That’s very nice of you, but I really think you should check your phone.” Harry furrows his brows, but takes his phone out. His eyes widen when he looks at the text from Shauna, his mouth falls open, but Danielle speaks before he can. “I just happened to see it, I wasn’t prying. However, I feel really stupid. Here I was, thinking that I met this really sweet guy who’s a little flirty, but really wants to get to know me! You really had me fooled, Harry.” She laughs and takes another sip of her drink.

“Danielle, I’m so sorry you saw that text…Shauna’s just someone I was sort of hooking up with, but the last time I saw her I basically told her I didn’t want to see her anymore because I had met someone…you.”

“That would mean you saw her after our date last weekend, right? Surely you wouldn’t have said something after our first encounter.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I did see her after our date, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I didn’t even enjoy it. I…I just wanted you, Danielle.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? Less stupid?” She shakes her head. “Thanks for the drink, but I’m heading home.”

“Wait, please don’t go. You can’t get upset with me over this. If you hadn’t seen the text you wouldn’t have even known about Shauna.”

“Exactly! How many other women are you seeing? Are there other kindergarten teachers you’re trying to fuck? It’s not like my school is the only elementary school in town.”

“No, there’s no one else I’m currently seeing. I really like you, and I’d like to see where this goes.”

“Let me ask you something. If I had been the one to go to the bar, and you saw a text on my phone from some guy that said I could fuck him in the ass if I came over tonight, you’re telling me you wouldn’t be put off or upset?”

“I already told you, I don’t like playing the what if game.” Her face stays cold and stoic. “I don’t know, I’d be more surprised than anything that you were into pegging.”

“God, you can’t take anything seriously!”

“Oi, I resent that. My entire job is serious. I put my life at risk every day that I put my uniform on. I think you’re making a way bigger deal out of this than you need to. You should be happy that I told her to bugger off because I want to be with you.”

“Oh, I should?” Her eyebrows raise. She hops off the stool and grabs her purse. “I don’t like guys who don’t give a fuck about juggling multiple women, or what effects that has on those women. Shauna must still be hung up on you, or she wouldn’t have texted you, Harry. I don’t need to deal with your baggage.” She huffs.

“You’re seriously going to leave?”

“I don’t want to spend another second with you.” She spits. “You’re not who I thought you were, or who I hoped you’d be, and I’m incredibly disappointed.” She starts to walk out of the bar, and he gets up to follow her.

“Would you just hold on a second?!” He shouts over the loud music, but she doesn’t turn around to look at him. He follows her out to the parking lot, and she grabs her pepper spray. He stops shirt and puts his hands up.

“I’m not afraid to use this, alright?”

“Can you just explain to me why you’re so upset about this? I could understand if we had been seeing each other for a while, but we haven’t. Am I not allowed a bit of a buffer to tie up some loose ends?”

“Loose ends?” She makes a disgusted face. “Harry, I’m sorry, I can’t be with a womanizer.”

“I’m not! I’m very upfront with my intentions when it comes to women. I’ve never led a single one of them on. Shauna was a woman I was hooking up with a bit more regularly, sure, but when I spoke with her she said she understood. I was just as shocked as you were to see that text. I’m so sorry you saw it.”

“You haven’t been upfront with me.” She says lowly.

“What?”

“You just said that you’re upfront with the women you see.” She swallows, and lowers her pepper spray back into her purse. “You haven’t exactly spelled out your intentions with me, Harry. I mean, it’s clear you want to fuck me, but what else do you want from me, huh?” Her bottom lip starts to quiver. “I’ve been hurt badly in the past, and I’m not going to let it happen again.” A few tears trickle down her cheeks, and Harry completely deflates.

“Danielle…I…I’m so sorry.” He steps a little closer to her. “I’m really taken with you. I want to keep getting to know you, and date you, and see where it goes. I don’t want to do anything that’s going to hurt you. That’s why I cut things off with Shauna, I swear. I’m really interested in you. When we kissed for the first time in my car, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I couldn’t stop thinking about when I’d get to do it again.” He was pleading with her now. He had never been so desperate to keep a woman around in his life.

Danielle sighs heavily. Maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, but that text really put a bad taste in her mouth. However, it’s not like Harry knew he was going to receive that text. If he had, he wouldn’t have just left his phone out like that. He would have been guarding it. He trusted her, and that was the light bulb she needed to go off.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He says.

“I’ll give you a pass. I suppose it’s not your fault. I just hope you let her down as nicely as you’re saying.”

“I did, I swear I did.”

“Alright.” She nods.

“Would you come back inside?”

“No, I wanna go home.” She takes her keys out. “You can follow me there.”

“Really?”

“Yes…I owe you a second chance. I overreacted.”

“Hey, uh, if that set you off, like, your feelings are valid.” He assures her.

“I can explain more at my place, come on.”

Once they’re both at Danielle’s apartment, she gets them both set up with a cup of decaf before they both sit on the sofa.

“A few years ago…I found out my college sweetheart was cheating on me…because I happened upon a text on his phone. It was usually glued to him, but I had come over while he was in the shower, and…it was awful. I guess I was a little triggered before, even though I didn’t have the right to be.”

“Christ, that’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” He puts his hand over hers and gives it a squeeze. “How could anyone cheat on you, you’re so sweet and bubbly…and nice.”

“That was the problem. I was too nice. He didn’t think he’d ever get caught, and he told me that he didn’t think I’d actually leave him if he did.”

“Sounds like he was taking you for granted.” His eyebrows knit together. “That can really fuck a person up.”

“I haven’t really been involved with someone seriously since.”

“So…you haven’t-“

“I’ve had a few, brief hookups…a few date nights here and there, but I haven’t…I haven’t really wanted to let anyone in.” Her lip starts to quiver again. “And then I met you, and…it just felt so good to feel wanted and I freaked out when I saw that text because I thought this was going to end before it started.” She sniffles. “I’ve spent a lot of time putting myself back together, and it’s so fucking annoying that something so stupid could make me feel so lousy. I know you’re not my ex, but it’s hard not to think that…that-“

“Hey.” He caresses her cheek. “When I choose to focus on one person, I don’t go out looking for anyone else. I know I’ve only known you a couple of weeks, but I can’t imagine how someone could think they needed anyone else when they were lucky enough to have you.”

All of her features soften, and her suddenly frozen heart thaws for him once again. She tugs on the collar of her his shirt and crashes her mouth to his. For once, she’s the one to bite his bottom lip, and he hums appreciatively. Both of his hands cup her cheeks as the kiss deepens, their tongues molding together. She whimpers and moans into his mouth, he was such a good kisser.

“M’sick of being in these yoga clothes.” She breathes as he starts to kiss on her neck. She grips his hair and cranes her neck so he has access to more. “Do you wanna take a shower with me?”

“Are you serious?” He says as he pulls away to look at her.

“Yeah.” She nods and kisses him again. He quickly scoops her up, and throws her over his shoulder. “Harry!” She squeals.

“Which way to your bathroom?”

“Down the hall, through my bedroom.”

Harry finds his way through her apartment, and gets them both into the bathroom. He sets her down so she can start the water. In the meantime, he peels off his shirt, and lets it drop to the floor. Her eyes don’t know where to focus on first. He had so many tattoos.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” She says, and wraps her arms around his neck. His hands travel down to pull at the hem of her shirt, and he lifts it off, revealing her sports bra.

“So are you. Can I take this off?” He tugs at the straps of the bra.

“I’m certainly not planning on showering in it.”

He helps her take it off and his hands immediately move to cup her breasts. They sat a little lower on her frame, and were even larger than he anticipated, but they were hers so he liked them, a lot. He kisses down the column of her throat and down to her chest.

“The water’s probably warm enough now.” She grunts. “Need to get the rest of these clothes off.”

“Couldn’t agree with you more.”

They step back from each other so they can both take their pants off. Both of their eyes drift down for a split second before their bodies collide once more. They nearly trip as they get into the shower and under the warm water. Harry presses her against the wall as his tongue drags along her jaw and to her neck. Her head rolls back as her mouth falls open. He sucks a bruise into the crook of her neck and the gasp she makes fuels him to suck harder.

“Fuck.” She groans.

Harry licks his way down her chest, cupping her breasts so her can suck on one of her nipples. Her hands rake through his hair. He blindly reaches for her shower head and snatches it as he stands up straight.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She breathes as she watches him lower the showerhead, adjusting the setting on it so it sprays a specific way. He doesn’t say anything, he just presses the shower head to her pelvis and slides it over her clit. “Oh…oh!” She clutches at the tile on the wall as best she can. Her legs part just enough so he can maneuver the shower head easier.

He slots his mouth over hers and sucks on her tongue. She felt like she couldn’t breathe in the best possible way. The hand that wasn’t working the showerhead between her legs was planted on the wall next to her head. She couldn’t help but notice the veins in his arm and hand.

“H-Harry.” She licks her lips after he worked his mouth to her collar bone.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yes!” She mewls. Her hands move to his back, her nails clawing at his skin. “N-need more.” She wasn’t exactly sure what she needed more of, she just knew she needed it.

Before she knows it, he’s dropping to his knees, so he can see better, and thrusting two fingers up inside her. He focuses the showerhead on her clit, and her hands find their way to his hair. She tugs harshly, eliciting a moan from him and he looks up at her, pleading with her to do it again. His fingers curl up inside her and it has her panting.

“Oh, fuck! Just like that, oh my god!” She cries out as she comes to her release. He slowly stands back up and her eyes widen as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. He puts the showerhead back as well. She eyes flicker down to his hard, twitching cock. “I think we should get out.” She reaches to turn the water off. “You may be fine with getting on your knees in here,” she says as she grabs them both a towel, “but I much prefer the comfort of my bed.”

Once they’re both dried off, they drop their towels and get onto her bed. He lays back as she shifts between her legs. She rubs her hands up and down his thick thighs, tracing over his tiger tattoo.

“Do you ever, um, think I could see you in your uniform.” She says as she starts to pump him slowly.

“Got a little fantasy, do you?” He smirks.

“I wouldn’t mind watching you slide down that pole.” She smirks back, and then kisses his tip.

“Fuck, just, come up here.” He pats the tops of his thighs. “I need to fuck you before I explode.”

“Oh, yeah?” She licks up and down his shaft. “Wanna feel how tight and wet I am around you?” She bats her lashes up at him and he groans.

“Please.”

“Lay flat on your back.”

“You don’t want me to sit up?”

“No.” She shakes her head as she reaches into her side table for a condom. She rips open the foil packet and slides it onto him. She scoots up his body, that was now flat on the bed, takes his wrists and pins them above his head. She rocks herself back and forth on his cock until he slips inside her. They both moan out.

“Fuck, you like being in control, baby?” He says as he watches her get a rhythm going.

“Sometimes.” She comes almost all the way off of him and then slams back down. “I’m an educator, so I thought I’d teach you who’s boss here.” She leans down and kisses him before sitting all the way back up.

“A lesson I won’t soon forget, eh?”

“You have no idea.” She smirks. “Don’t thrust up into me.” She says as she lets his wrists go. “And keep your hands above your head.

“You’re not gonna let me touch you?”

“I let you get pretty handsy in the shower, count yourself lucky for that.”

She lets her hands fall behind her, planting on his thighs as she starts to bounce up and down on him. Once she feels like she won’t topple over, she lets her hands drag over her breasts, groping herself in front of him. He grunts and grits his teeth as he watches her.

“Like using my cock to get yourself off?”

“Yeah, how’s it feel?”

“You feel incredible, just wish I could-“

“I said don’t.” She warns him just as he was raising his hands, but he sets them back down on the pillows.

She plants both of her hands on his shoulders as she hovers over him. She rocks back and forth on his cock, rubbing her clit against him perfectly. She swivels her hips around on him in circles and she starts moaning.

“Danielle, please, you’re killing me.” Harry groans, sweat was starting to form at his hairline.

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to address your teacher by their first name.” She says, ghosting her lips over his before kissing him. She moans into his mouth as she comes around him. She grinds against him a few more times, riding out her orgasm. “I know you can ask nicer than that.” She says, nibbling on his earlobe.

Harry was so fucking turned on. He never would have guessed that Danielle was a little kinky, but he was incredibly excited about it, so he plays along.

“Miss Robinson?”

“Yes?”

“May I please fuck you from behind and rearrange your guts?” He smiles at her sweetly.

“You may, but only because you asked so nicely.” She pecks his lips and gets off of him carefully. She gets on all four as he shuffles behind her. He gives her bum a little smack and she giggles.

Harry slides back inside her, a sigh of relief leaving him at the feeling of her warmth around him again. He grips the back of her neck to get a steady pace going. She drops her front half so her cheek is smushes against her pillows. She licks her finger tips and starts rubbing her clit.

“Harder.” She grunts, and he complies.

He gives her hard, deep, and fast thrusts which result in him hitting her g-spot over and over. It feels like an electric shock going through her body, and suddenly she’s seeing stars, coming around him once again. He spills into the condom shortly after due to the way she was squeezing him. She was still moaning even after he pulled out.

“Yeh liked that, huh?” He gives her bum a soothing pat before getting off the bed.

“It was so good.” She mewls as she rolls onto her back.

As Harry goes into the light of the bathroom, he furrows his brows as he takes the condom off. He notices a slight shade of pink on the rubber. He didn’t want to embarrass her, but he wonders if she started her period without realizing it. He picks up his boxers off the bathroom floor and wiggles them up his legs.

“Hey…Danielle?” She hums her response. He thought she looked like an angel, laying peacefully with her eyes closed. He sits on the edge of the bed, placing a hand on her thigh. “Babe, I don’t wanna embarrass you or anything, but I think you started your period?”

“What?” Her eyes open and she sits up. “That’s impossible, I had it last week. What makes you think I started it?”

“The condom was a little pink.”

Her face goes pale, and she licks her lips in thought.

“Excuse me.” She gets up, wrapping one of her blankets around herself as she goes into the bathroom. She sits on the toilet to pee. It doesn’t sting or hurt, but when she checks the toilet paper, she rolls her eyes when she sees the light pink color. It wasn’t period blood. She sighs and flushes the toilet, washing her hands before returning to the bedroom, and sitting next to Harry on the bed. “It, um, it’s not period blood. I…I think I tore a little. You fucked me pretty hard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me I was hurting you?! I would have slowed down or stopped; I feel terrible.”

“Don’t!” She shakes her head. “It didn’t hurt, it doesn’t even hurt now. It’s just been a little while for me, and you’re, um, bigger than I’m used to, and you fucked me hard. I wanted it that way, I’m not upset. It felt really, really good.” She gives him a soft smile. “Sorry if you’re grossed out…”

“I’m not, I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“I am…I’m really glad we did that.”

“Me too.” He leans in and kisses her tenderly. “Kinda wanna spend the night with you, would that be okay?”

“How are you at making breakfast?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“M’aces at making pancakes.” He says with a bright smile. “Do you like pancakes, love?”

She nods her head yes, wrapping her arms around him and giving him quick kisses on his cheek. Did she have sex with him a little faster than she intended? Yes, but it was worth it. She felt incredibly close with him, and she couldn’t wait to see where things were going to go with Chief Styles.

#burning love #harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #firefighter!Harry #firefighterry

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allmoshnobrain · 11 months ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 03 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 4,7k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

"C’mere," he whispered, and I nodded quickly, sitting beside him on the couch. I sighed, glancing down at my hands, fidgeting nervously with my fingers. With him right there, I was all over the place, unsure of what to do with myself. My heart fluttered when he reached out, placing his hand on mine, and I felt my cheeks flush as I looked up and noticed just how close he was. "You wanted to chat, right?"

✦ on this chapter: james hetfield x female!oc, dave mustaine x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, grief, pov change

✦ a/n: New chapter's here! First of all, I might not be able to update the next part on Monday. I'm halfway through writing it, but my days have been crazy busy, so it might take me a bit longer to wrap it up. But I swear, as soon as it's ready, I'll get it posted! This chapter is really special to me because we're diving into Dave's POV; I put a lot of heart into capturing his feelings just right, so I hope you guys like it. Feedback is welcome, thanks for reading! 🖤

✧ In terms of love, sunflowers symbolize pure and steadfast love, like Clytie who constantly gazed at Apollo. Therefore, giving someone a sunflower means telling them: “my love for you will be constant, and unchanged, like how the sunflower always faces the sun”. ✧

February 20, 1992

I sighed nervously, wringing my hands as I paced back and forth in my home's living room. After getting back in touch with Dave, we’d decided to meet up and have a chat about everything — the past, the present, and maybe the future. I didn't know what to make of his sudden reappearance in my life, unsure how it might shake up all the delicate balance I'd been trying to maintain lately. I’d left a message on James' voicemail the day before, filling him in on our reunion and our plans to catch up. Figured James should hear it straight from me, especially since he was the one who helped me hunt down Dave back in the day, spending months on end trying to track him down.

Now, though, it wasn't James occupying my thoughts, but Dave. I studied myself in the mirror; decked out in a cute dress, my cheeks flushed, my eyes gleaming with anticipation like they hadn't in ages. I'd even indulged in a touch of red lipstick, which now seemed a bit too much as I battled my nerves. Did I really care that much about whether he found me pretty?

I felt kind of silly, to be honest. But deep down, I knew I wanted to see him. I wanted to hear his voice again. Our call the day before had been brief, just a few hesitant words passing between us before I realized that talking on the phone wasn't cutting it. I needed to see him face-to-face, even if it was just to put a final chapter on our story once and for all.

I couldn't help but gasp with surprise when the doorbell chimed, my heart leaping into overdrive as a blush crept up my cheeks. Rushing to the door, I swung it open, my smile widening as I met Dave's gaze, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. He didn't even seem real, a vision straight out of a dream, his ginger hair catching the sunlight, his eyes filled with a mix of anticipation and apprehension. It was everything I’d ever wanted, seeing him again like this, as if all my dreams were being handed to me on a silver platter.

"You’re here," I murmured dumbly, which earned a soft chuckle from him.

"Hey. Of course I am," he said, handing me the bouquet of sunflowers. I blushed as I accepted them, a delighted grin stubbornly forming on my lips. "These are for you."

"Oh, thanks, Dave," I replied, trying to contain the urge to throw myself into his arms right then and there. It seemed Dave was grappling with a similar hesitation; he reached out, lifting my chin, his thumb tracing my cheek. I sighed, feeling my heart kick up a notch. "So... you wanna come in?"

We stepped into my place; Dave plopped down on one of the couches in the living room while I scurried off to find a vase for the flowers. I rummaged through the kitchen cabinets and found one, filling it with water in a hurry. Carrying it back to the living room, I set it on a small table near the window. Turning back to Dave, I caught his calm smile, feeling the weight of all the unsaid words hanging in the air between us.

"I... Yeah," I murmured, then sighed, trying to calm myself. "Dave... Last time we were together... The day you ended things with me..." I hesitated, seeing a storm of sadness and hurt stirring in his eyes, but he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, urging me to continue. "That day... it was a mess. Most of it was my fault, but... I swear, Dave, I didn't cheat on you with James. I..." I struggled to keep going, feeling the weight of old wounds reopening, tears threatening to spill over and choking my voice. "Please," I finally choked out, my voice barely above a whisper. "Please, believe me. I can explain everything, I..."

I couldn’t keep talking; suddenly, the doorbell rang. I jumped, glancing nervously at Dave as the sound repeated.

"You should get that," Dave said, offering me a faint smile, though tension still lingered in the air. I nodded anxiously, making my way to the door.

I swung the door open, and there stood James.

"James?" I blinked, tension gripping my body. "What are you..."

"I got your voicemail. Where is he?" he growled, seizing me by the shoulders and shoving me aside before I could answer. Oh no, I thought, trailing after him into the house. He marched in with long, heavy strides, heading straight for the living room where he found Dave, who rose to his feet at the sight of him, a tempest brewing in his hazel eyes. "You!" James bellowed. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"James, chill!" I clutched his arm, meeting his eyes with a mix of exasperation and pleading. "We're just having a conversation. I told you we agreed to talk!"

"So now you have to report every move to him?" Dave shot back, his brow furrowing at me.

"Take a look in the mirror, man. Like you weren't a control freak when you two were together. You think I don't know you guys fought every time Nore wanted to see us?" James snapped, and Dave's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides.

"I ain't here to chat with you, Hetfield. It's best if you bounce," he growled, his tone carrying a hint of threat. I glanced between James and Dave, my pulse quickening. Oh no, not this again.

James chuckled, dripping with sarcasm.

"Ain't here to chat with you either, Mustaine. But you've got some serious nerve rolling up here after all the crap you pulled. You don't get to waltz back into her life like nothing happened. Like you didn't hurt her."

I gawked at James, my eyes widening in surprise. So, that's why he'd shown up? To defend me? All along, I figured if I crossed paths with Dave again, he'd be stoked for me, b ut clearly, that wasn't the case.

"Funny," Dave shot back, a wry smirk curling his lips. "Real funny, coming from you. Like you and Lars didn't pull the shit you did on me. Like you weren't trying to steal her from me from the start. You reckon I didn't catch the way you looked at her?"

"Well, in the end, I came out on top, didn't I?" James edged closer, his tone dripping with venomous irony. "I got the band, and I got the girl. What about you?"

"James, knock it off!" I interjected, and both of them swung their gazes towards me, as if just remembering I was there. "Did you forget Dave's here 'cause I invited him? I wanted to sort things out with him, alright? Lay off him!"

James arched an eyebrow, clearly taken aback and a bit peeved by my response. I held his gaze, my cheeks flushing under Dave's watchful eyes, but I refused to break eye contact with James, a silent exchange playing out between us. He eventually rolled his eyes and made his way to the door.

"Ugh," I grumbled, frustrated, trailing after him. "James, come on!"

"What the fuck, Nore!" he exclaimed, wheeling around, and I instinctively took a step back. "What the fuck were you thinking, inviting this guy over?"

"I already told you I needed to talk to him! James, he deserves to know the truth. It's not right for him to keep believing I did him dirty like that..."

"That was ages ago. Why's it such a big deal now?"

"Of course it's a big deal! And what you and the guys did, booting him out of the band, matters too. You should at least say you're sorry..."

"Here you go again, sticking up for him like he didn't fuck up," James growled, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. "Don't you dare roll your eyes at me! All these years, I've done nothing but love and protect you. He fucking left you! He left you high and dry, then went around bad-mouthing you to everyone without even considering your feelings, without even giving you a chance to explain. Did you ever think that you could've set things straight ages ago if he'd stopped to listen? You shouldn't even give him the time of day, Nore."

"James, we were kids ," I said, my voice quieter now , trying to bring some calm to the heated moment, trying to make him understand. "I messed up plenty too. You cheated on your girlfriend to be with me. We're no saints here, okay?"

"Well, if you think this guy is here to just patch things up and be buddies afterwards, you're dead wrong, alright? Dead wrong, and you know it. Bet he's still sore about losing you, because if he's not over getting booted from the band, would he really be over that?"

"And why does that even matter? This isn't about him moving on from me or not, it's about us making things right..."

"Yeah, well, I don’t give a shit about making things right with him."

"And that's the fucking problem!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "There was a time when you'd get why this means so much to me. There was a time when you'd want me to do what makes me happy! So either you were bullshitting me or you've changed so much that you just don't give a damn anymore. Honestly, I don't know which is worse."

James stared at me for a moment, hurt and shock in his gaze, the same old hurt that always resurfaced between us — the hurt of not being able to understand each other anymore. He sighed, rubbing his temples with his fingertips as he closed his eyes.

"What happened between us and him is in the past," he growled. "I don't need to keep going over that, and I sure as hell don't owe him an apology. If you feel like you do... Don't come crying to me when he screws you over again."

"James..." I started, reaching out to grab his hand, but it was too late. He shook his head, pulling away, and stormed off, hopping into his car and slamming the door shut before speeding off. I watched him leave, my heart pounding as tears welled up in my eyes, wondering if I'd ever find a way to make things right with both Dave and James without causing even more hurt along the way.

☆

I've never been one to let things slide easily.

Holding onto grudges was kind of my thing. In a world that had kicked me and spat on my face since day one, anger had been my go-to move, sword and shield rolled into one, keeping me safe from the emptiness that always lurked.

Sometimes I'd been pretty good at channeling that anger into something productive, but other times? Well, let's just say it was a rocky ride. It was like walking a tightrope, flirting with self-destruction, and usually, things didn't end well — not for me, and definitely not for the people around me.

Grudges kept me on my toes. They kept me sharp. Couldn't forget, couldn't let myself get fooled again by someone who'd already done me wrong. And I was cool with that, like a ticking time bomb kind of cool, until I thought I found someone who got me. Someone who could put out the flames, show me the softer side of life, the morning sun's warmth instead of the heat of a fire.

She had always been my Achilles' heel.

We were lost children, lost in the haze of our youth, drowning our sorrows in booze, trying to escape everything that hurt us. I started falling for her then, in a simple way, because she was like me, yet she was good. Kind in a way that baffled me, that I couldn't wrap my head around. How could she see so much good in me when I couldn't even see it myself? How could she trust me so completely, with a trust that scared the hell out of me because I wasn't used to that kind of tenderness, that kind of affection?

Before I knew it, my love had turned into devotion. A devotion so deep it mingled with the marrow of my bones, making me stronger and weaker in equal measure. ‘Cause when I lost everything but her, the fear that she might be next only drove us apart.

Eleanore. Eleanore. Nore.

It wasn't a walk in the park to forget her after it all went south. For the longest time, I wanted to forget her, to despise her just like I did with Lars and James for booting me out of Metallica. After some time, it became a piece of cake to act like I didn't give a shit, that I was better off without her, that I was over her and ready to move on, diving into other kisses, other lovers. Drowning myself in whatever substance I could find, anything to drown out the hollow feeling inside.

But without her shining light, I was adrift.

As weeks turned into months and months into years, my fury toward her slowly simmered down enough for me to see that what I felt wasn't anger, but love. A love wounded and raw, twisting my heart in an endless pit. I longed for her, but it was too late; it wasn't rocket science to figure out that she and James were living the dream of a perfect relationship while folks seemed to get a kick out of keeping me posted on every move Metallica made without me. And I tried to sell myself the story that it was for the best; that if she’d left me, it was better for her to be with someone who truly lit up her world. That I wasn't, and had never been, good enough, worthy enough of her love.

And to add insult to injury, it's not like I didn't have my own demons to wrestle with. As the years rolled on, my reliance on any and all substances that could numb me from reality grew worse by the day, until it reached a breaking point. My first go-round in rehab fell short; I found myself making repeat visits to those gloomy facilities more times than I could tally up. And all along, I was just searching for something, anything, to reassure me that I was headed in the right direction. Something that could pull me back from the brink, something that could save me.

And then I found her.

As fleeting as our reunion had been, it was enough to shatter any facade of normalcy I had managed to cobble together. Because deep down, I knew that after laying eyes on her again, I couldn't live with myself if I let the opportunity to reconnect slip through my fingers. It was like her presence had wiped away all the pent-up anger I harbored inside. But beneath that anger lurked pain and fear. After all, hadn't she chosen James over me in the end? How could her reappearance not feel like a mirage, especially when she had once shown me the purest, most sincere form of love, only to snatch it away and make me believe I didn't deserve any of it?

That I didn't deserve her. And that she was worthy of something better.

When she asked to meet up to discuss the past, I couldn't bring myself to refuse. How could I deny her anything? And there I was, the Dave Mustaine, known for my sarcasm, anger, and aggression, completely bending to the whims of a woman. But not just any woman.

Her.

I found myself buying her flowers and eagerly anticipating our meeting like some lovesick teenager. Not because I was after a quick fuck or a girl dazzled by my wealth and fame, but simply because it was her. And God knows how when she was around, it was like everything else faded into the background. I dared to hope that her sudden reappearance in my life, after so much pain, emptiness, and longing, was a sign that good things were on the horizon.

But life's never that simple, is it?

Then James showed up, with his anger, arrogance, and disdain. My heart sank as I watched the intimate exchange between them, even in the midst of a fight. The silent communication in their glances held the weight of years of companionship, two souls deeply entwined on the same journey. And I couldn't help but envy James because he knew a side of her that I no longer did. He had stolen it from me, something I’d lost when I was deceived and betrayed by those I once considered my family.

But as I listened to their argument, and her desperate pleas for him to understand that all she wanted was to make things right and explain herself, I couldn't help but remember one of the things that had made me fall head over heels in love with her in the first place: her unwavering loyalty, always ready to defend those she cared about, the same loyalty that had her standing by my side without a second thought when my world came crashing down. Loyalty. I swear I never cheated on you with James. That's what she’d said, right? And I realized I believed her, but that didn't make things any easier. Because if that was true, then had I truly shut her out of my life, without even giving her a chance to explain herself, all over some stupid misunderstanding?

It wasn't surprising that James was furious with her for still holding onto any hope of patching things up with me. Fuck . I mean, it wasn't like this was anything new, but had I really been that big of an idiot?

I didn't even deserve her to look at me. I should just leave, spare her from my anger, my bitterness, and my mistakes. But how could I when she was right there, her blue eyes shimmering with tears she tried to choke back, so close and so real?

"I'm sorry, Dave," she whispered, her voice shaky. "I didn't know James was gonna barge in here and stir up such a mess, I..." She sighed, seeming lost for words, wrapping her arms around herself, looking so confused and alone that I couldn't resist. Striding over to her, I pulled her into a hug, holding her tight against my chest, hoping against hope that this would be enough for her to grasp everything I was feeling but couldn't put into words. She smelled like cinnamon and cardamom and this unique sweetness that was just her, and it made me ravenous. I buried my face in her hair, one hand gripping the back of her head while the other pulled her closer, and she hugged me back, like she was afraid I'd vanish if she let go, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You were telling the truth, huh?" I murmured, my heart aching. "You and James... You weren't really together that day?"

"No," she sobbed, her voice heavy with sorrow, and I held her even tighter. "No, we weren't..."

"It's alright. It’s okay, sweetheart," I whispered, the pet name slipping out without me even realizing it, the weight of my mistakes threatening to crush me with regret. I wanted to cry too, but I couldn’t, not now. I had to stay strong for her. "I'm here. Let it out, I'm here."

I held her until her sobs subsided, her breathing slowing down. She pulled back a bit, looking up at me, her face tantalizingly close to mine, and I had to use all my strength not to kiss her right there .

"You don't wanna chase after James?" I questioned, trying to hide the distress in my voice. She shook her head, looking like she might burst into tears again any second.

"No, not right now. It'd just make everything worse. We'd end up arguing more,” she whispered, her cheeks damp from her tears. “He's angry, Dave. And he's been holding onto that anger for ages, and I don't know how to help him..."

"Hey, it's alright. You'll figure it out, I'm sure."

"We weren't together. I mean, that day," she started, breaking away from my embrace and heading to the couch, where she took a seat. I took a seat too, unable to stand even a moment apart from her. "I knew James had feelings for me. I knew because he'd kissed me once, out of the blue, and I knew I couldn't keep ignoring the way he felt."

She paused, and I nodded, pushing down the surge of jealousy and anger bubbling up inside me.

"I… I liked him too. But I loved you. I was so, so in love with you. And I’d chosen you . I would always, always, always have chosen you. That day, running into him was just a total coincidence. I didn’t even know he was gonna be there. I mean, I get it now, I should've told you everything back then. But honestly, I was scared stiff. Didn't wanna risk pushing you even further away. It was all my fault..."

"No," I cut in, squeezing her hand, small, soft, and warm, in mine. "No. I should've let you explain. You were my girlfriend, after all. I owed you that much, Nore."

"I tried to track you down afterward, you know, to explain myself," she confessed, her voice choked, those pleading blue eyes of hers practically begging for understanding. "But it never quite panned out. And then..."

"And then?" I prodded gently. She glanced away, nibbling on her lower lip, like she was wrestling with the right words. I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, urging her on.

"And then... There was that song."

I let out a rough breath. Mustaine, you fucking idiot. She didn't have to spell it out. I knew exactly which song she meant, a tune born from my anger and bitterness, a misguided attempt at bravado fueled by some foolish hope that she'd hear it and come chasing after me, even if it was just for a fight. But in the end, it only drove Nore farther from me. If there was a prize for boneheaded moves, I'd have been on that podium in a heartbeat.

"And you never bothered to find me," she murmured, her voice laced with hurt, her gaze dropping to her hands, her lower lip trembling just enough to betray her pain. It was like watching a wounded bird, helpless and vulnerable after falling off its nest.

God, how I longed for her to forgive me, even for the sins I had not sinned.

"I tried," I admitted, and she glanced up at me quick, cheeks flushing the sweetest shade of pink, those blue eyes of hers sparkling like they could stop my heart. Why was she happy to hear that? Why was she messing with my head like this? Didn't she love James now? Tears threatened to well up again, the lump in my throat tightening. I couldn't stand this. "I did try. But you were gone. Off touring in Europe with him. And then a year later or so, Cliff pops up at one of my gigs. I asked about you, wanted to see you. But he shut me down," I revealed bitterly. "Told me to get over it. Said you and James were together. That you were in love. So I threw in the towel."

She looked utterly surprised, like it was news to her. After all these years, I'd figured she didn't give a damn. So why the sudden interest? Why act like she didn't know? It felt like she was ripping my heart out all over again. Because, painful as it was to admit, I still loved her. I had never, ever, ever stopped loving her. And now she was back in my life, with those piercing blue eyes and that gentle heart, thinking she could save me, thinking she could fix things. Innocent. Pure. Wasting her heart on the wreck that I was.

And I couldn't even muster the guts to lay it bare — that I was a screw-up. That I was useless, that she oughta go off and be happy with James 'cause she'd never fix what was broken in me. I didn't deserve that. But I wanted it — I wanted to be near her. I was too damn selfish. I wanted her goodness. Her innocence. I needed it to belong to me, and only me, and no one else.

I didn't deserve her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, gripping my hands tight. "I just... I thought you didn't want me around anymore. I didn't know, Dave," she sniffled. Was she crying? She shouldn't be. She hadn't done anything, anything wrong. Maybe I should've pushed harder. Maybe I should've listened. Maybe I should've gone after her, fought for her. But now, it felt too late.

"I should go," I muttered, even though it tore me up inside. "I don't want... You and James, Nore, you two are together..."

"But we're not, " she blurted out. I went still, locked into her blue gaze. Please, don't toy with me like this. "Things with James, Dave... They're complicated. But we're not together. Not like that. We..." Her voice hitched, and all I wanted was to hold her, to never let her go, to never let her cry again. "We're both broken. Cliff's death... It tore us apart."

And there it was. That vulnerability. I'd noticed it, how she seemed fragile now compared to the lively girl I once knew. This was new, and it broke my heart that she’d changed to feel ruined. It crushed me that the happy, determined, kind girl I once knew had become a wounded woman. A woman still grieving, even years after losing the one who'd shaped her world.

And it stung even more that I was such a worthless piece of shit that I felt selfishly relieved to hear she and James were no longer together.

"Please, don't string me along like this," I managed to whisper. She chuckled, her voice trembling, then met my gaze.

"Dave. Would I lie to you about something like this?" she asked, almost sweetly. Oh, this devil of a woman. If only she knew how she had me in the palm of her hand right then. "Please... I don't want you to leave."

"What should I do?" I practically pleaded. Just tell me what to do because I can't take this anymore. I want to hold you. I want to kiss you. I want to—

"Stay with me," she breathed, her fingers weaving through mine. My heart raced, disbelief flooding me. I didn't deserve it, this happiness. I didn't deserve her.

Yet there she was.

Yet she wanted me.

My hand shook as I reached out to touch her face gently. I traced the curve of her lower lip with my thumb, watching as she blushed, her lips parting ever so slightly, anticipation gleaming in her eyes. I pulled her close, my mind racing as much as my heart, and kissed her, our lips moving together, my tongue exploring her mouth eagerly, tasting her like it would be the last time. Because maybe it would. Maybe this was all just a dream, and I would wake up in my cold bed, miserable and stupid and alone without her.

Because this was too good to be true. That a woman this small could hold this much power over me, over my heart, felt almost like a joke. But there she was. She was beautiful. She was kind.

And she wanted me.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet

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allmoshnobrain · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 33 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2597 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I could feel his heart tapping against my fingertips, a bit quicker now, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. His blonde eyelashes looked almost see-through in the sunlight, his blue eyes sparkling and locked onto mine, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. I brought my hands up to his face, running my fingers over it slowly. He let out a sigh, lightly shutting his eyes like he'd been waiting for my touch his whole life.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, romance

✦ a/n: Hi, everyone! I posted this chapter a little later than usual because I was too busy today, but it's here! Sorry for the delay. Also, some of you may have already seen this, but: I missed writing about Dave and Nore happy together a lot these last few days, so I posted a small extra chapter set somewhere between chapters 16 and 17 for all my Dave and Nore enjoyers 🖤 You can read it here. Hope you liked reading, feedback is welcome!

✧ you don't have to leave, you could just stay here, with me / forget all the party police, we could find comfort in debauchery ✧

“I should've been there with you,” James's voice, annoyed and concerned, crackled through the phone pressed to my ear. “You shouldn't have dealt with this on your own. I should've been right there beside you.”

“James, it's alright,” I mumbled, sparking a cigarette, propping myself against the payphone stand. It was late afternoon, and I’d dialed James to tell him all about my disastrous mission in Los Angeles. If I wasn't in tears at the moment, it was only because I'd already exhausted my supply in the hours before.

“Of course, it's not okay!” he burst out, matching my frustration. “Did you check with the neighbors? Wasn't there some dude you knew living downstairs?”

“Yeah, Ellefson. He bailed too. Apparently, they moved out together last week. Left no trace for anyone to follow,” I finished the sentence with a tremor in my voice, eyes burning with fresh tears, but I wasn't going to break down now. Not while James was on the line, his concern clear in every word he spoke.

“Fuck. What a mess,” he muttered. “Hey, it's gonna be alright. I think I've got his mom's address; I can try reaching out to her. We'll find him, Nore.”

“Thanks, James,” I said, feeling a bit better knowing that even if the day had turned to crap, he still had my back.

“I'm sorry about all this Pat shit. Had no clue she'd pull a stunt like that.”

“It's fine…”

“No, Nore, it's not. You know, you said the right thing to her. I never want to see that girl again. But I can hop over to Los Angeles if it means making her apologize to you,” he declared, his voice carrying a slightly menacing edge that hinted he might have wanted to go beyond a simple apology.

“James, you really don't have to do that. It'd be just playing into her drama,” I let out a heavy sigh. “All I want is to find Dave and sort this mess out once and for all.”

“We'll track him down, Nore. I promise. Everything's gonna be fine,” James tried to assure me, and I managed a small smile. There was something kinda sweet about how he was going all out to cheer me up, genuinely putting in the effort to help me out, just because it'd make me happy.

James was just impossible not to like.

“I know, Jamie,” I replied, letting the warmth of my smile show in my voice. “Thank you.”

The rest of February breezed by quickly; I suddenly realized that the one-year anniversary of my move to San Francisco had quietly passed. It seemed pretty wild how everything that had unfolded in the last few months had managed to cram into a year, shaping me in more ways than I could express. It was like I'd been a part of the boys’ life forever, like I couldn’t quite picture who I was without them in the frame.

March rolled in, bringing the end of winter closer and closer. As the days lit up and warmed, James and I kept our long-distance communication going. The phone calls from San Francisco to Long Beach, initially a bit spaced out, soon became almost a daily ritual, and I found myself eagerly anticipating those moments in an entirely new way. Sweet words of affection began to find their way into our conversations more frequently. I had to admit, I missed James more than I'd care to confess — not just the tour moments but also his touch, the sound of his voice and laughter, the blue in his eyes, and even the warmth of his kisses and the feel of his body against mine.

Being back at my parents' house had its perks: with no job on my plate and studies yet to kick in, I found myself drowning in free time. I dedicated most of it to diving into my studies and building up a solid portfolio in visual arts, gearing up for the application grind at the San Francisco Art Institute. The prospect of being in the same city as Cliff and the guys again had me stoked, but in a genuinely good way — I could barely contain my excitement for things to click into place.

Another thing gobbling up my time was my newfound camaraderie with Charlotte, one of my old high school friends. She’d been pouring her heart into her debut starring role in a theatre play, and I'd been chipping in as an unofficial production assistant, giving me a reason to hang out with her and break free from my parents’ house for a bit. On a bright Wednesday morning, the moment I stepped into the auditorium where the theater troupe was fine-tuning their craft, Charlotte threw me a curveball with an unexpected ask.

“Nore!” she squealed with excitement upon spotting me, rushing over and grabbing my hands in hers. Her green eyes looked almost teary, and her lips formed a small pout. “Thank goodness you're here. Everything's going haywire today, and I'm not sure if we can sort it out!”

“What’s going on, Charlie?” I inquired, intrigued, as I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it onto one of the chairs in the vacant audience area. “Did the dressing room light decide to bail on us again? You know I'm useless with those things.”

“Of course not!” she retorted, indignant, and I released a low chuckle.

“Just pulling your leg. What's up?”

“I need you to act in the play.”

I blinked, puzzled, furrowing my brow as I crossed my arms.

“You... Hold on, what? Charlie, the play is in two weeks.”

“I know!” she sighed, slumping into one of the chairs, defeated. “Why do you think I'm so desperate? One of the actresses can't perform anymore. And now the director wants to cancel the play because we won't be able to find a replacement on time!”

“And you want me to step in.”

“Yeah!”

“In a play that's premiering in fifteen days?”

“Nore, you've always been fantastic in our school's Drama Club…”

“No way, Charlie! How am I supposed to pull that off?”

“Nore, please, please, please?” she clasped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading. “It's my first lead role, I've been rehearsing for months! I promise to help you with the lines, I'll do anything!”

I sighed, resigned.

“Fine. But you owe me one,” I replied, and she let out an excited squeal before hugging me.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it, I promise!”

Well, she was right — I didn't regret it. Actually, practicing for the play turned out to be a lot more fun than I thought. Plus, scoring some free tickets to hand out to my friends and family made me care a bit less about the crazy deadline to cram all those lines into my brain. Charlie and I basically lived in that auditorium for the next few days; I'd roll in there in the morning and wouldn't bail until way into the evening.

When Saturday rolled around, I decided to escape to San Francisco. Stuff for the band was picking up speed after those European shows. After snagging a deal to record the second album at a studio in Denmark, the guys figured a bash was in order to toast to the good news, and obviously, I had to be there. I arranged with my parents to spend the weekend over at Cliff's place with the boys. Luckily, they had some San Francisco business on the horizon, and agreed to drop by and give me a ride back to Long Beach when it was time to head back home.

I let out a sigh as I hit the old house where I used to live with Cliff, Dave, James, and Lars. It was like nothing had changed, memories still stuck in every nook and cranny; the first chats with the guys, James getting less shy as we got tighter, my first kiss with Dave, the first time we slept together, drinking together, smoking together, laughing together, loving together. And it stung, a sharp and dry ache deep in my chest, with the gut feeling that things would never, ever be the same again.

I mixed with the crowd, strolling into the living room; the first familiar face I bumped into was James', whose eyes lit up seeing me, a grin breaking out. He hustled over, grabbing my face and planting a surprise kiss on my lips, leaving me gasping, my face heating up in a flash.

“James!” I blurted out, pupils dilated in shock as I took a step back.

“My bad. Was that a no-go?” he mumbled, a persistent grin suggesting he had no regrets about the kiss. “Just damn happy you showed up.”

“I’m happy to be here too,” I whispered, my face still warm from his gentle touch.

“Geez, you two are such a clingy couple,” Cliff chimed in, coming over. I blushed, pulling James's hands off my face and avoiding eye contact.

“We're not a couple, Cliff,” I muttered, voice low, his comment knotting something strange and uncomfortable in my chest. “Excuse me, I need a drink,” I spun around, heading for the kitchen.

“Nore, hold up,” Cliff tagged along, standing by my side as I raided the fridge for a beer. “What was that just now?”

“Nothing,” I grunted, popping the kitchen door open and stepping into the backyard. Cliff sighed but joined me, leaning against the porch railing.

“Nothing? Seriously? You're not gonna start keeping secrets from me now, after 19 years?” he came closer, tilting his head to be right in my line of sight, impossible to ignore. I sighed, rolling my eyes at his persistence. “Hey. You and James weren't, like, a thing or something?”

“It's not like that,” I grumbled. “It's just... There's just too much going on, Cliff...”

I told him everything then: how James and I had decided to give in to our feelings during the tour, how I’d tried to find Dave after coming back, how everything went wrong, and now I had no clue where he was. And maybe involving James in all this was a mistake because, frankly, with each passing day, I found myself liking him more while still stuck on my feelings for Dave.

“Well, that sucks,” he remarked after I spilled my story, prompting a nervous little laugh from me. “So, you do like James, then?”

“Of course I like him,” I replied, with a resigned sigh.

“You like him, and yet you were upset because he kissed you just now?” he pressed on, and I rolled my eyes.

“Cliff, it's not that simple…”

"No, I get it ain't," he said, sparking up a joint, taking a slow drag before locking eyes with me, dead serious. "I get you still love Dave. I get you're on this quest to find him, and I'm betting it's gonna happen, Nore. You and him, you'll cross paths again 'cause I know you're head over heels for the guy. I'm pretty damn sure you two will work things out. But..." He hesitated, and I shot him a puzzled look. Cliff usually had his words lined up tight. It wasn’t like him to be unsure about anything.

"But?" I prodded, curious. He let out a sigh.

"But things are changing at warp speed for us, Nore," He handed over the joint, and I grabbed it, taking a slow drag. "We're growing up, for crying out loud. I mean, we're about to cut an album in Europe, can you believe that? A year ago, who would've thought? Things are moving quick, do you really wanna skip the chance to catch some happiness along the way? You don't know when you'll stumble upon Dave. No idea how long it'll take to straighten things out with him. Are you gonna keep dodging happiness till then?"

"Cliff, what are you getting at?"

"What I'm getting at, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but fine, what I mean is maybe you should quit fighting what you feel for James. I mean, you liked him before, but let's be real, you rolled back from Europe completely in love with him, didn't you?"

In love. Those words set my face on fire, my heart doing a marathon, and a zillion butterflies doing somersaults in my stomach. My first instinct was to argue with Cliff, but deep down, he wasn't totally off, was he? If I already had a soft spot for James before, now it was more like a full-blown obsession. It felt like a hunger, like I needed him to fill some kind of void inside of me. And somehow, this crazy feeling coexisted with the love I held for Dave, for the empty space he’d left behind. Everything was so damn new that I could barely wrap my head around it, let alone figure out how to handle it.

"I'm not in love with him," I mumbled weakly, and Cliff chuckled, giving me a shoulder hug.

"You're a lousy liar, you know that?" he said, and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey," a familiar voice called, and I glanced up, blushing when I locked eyes with James, propped against the door frame with a beer in hand. "Nore, everything cool?"

"I'm gonna find Lea," Cliff announced, sidestepping and shooting me a suggestive look before leaving me solo with James. I watched him saunter away, feeling my face heat up, and then turned my attention to James, his blue eyes zeroed in on mine.

"You alright? Sorry about that kiss earlier. Didn't mean to upset you," he said, his voice low, stepping close enough for me to sense the heat of his body. His attentive eyes studied my face, as if trying to decode my feelings from my expression. I sighed, my heart racing in a totally new rhythm when he gently cupped my face, resting my hands on his chest as he leaned in.

"James," I murmured, my voice shaking, almost like I was saying his name for the first time. He gave me a slight smile, his gaze zeroing in on my slightly parted lips with poorly disguised desire.

"What?"

"I don't want you thinking I'm here with you just 'cause I haven't tracked down Dave yet."

"I'd never think that," he whispered, edging even closer.

"James," I murmured again, almost like a prayer, and the way I said his name seemed to light up something hungry in him. He yanked me closer, his mouth crashing onto mine with a deep, needy moan. I sighed, trembling, my fingers tangling in his hair as I surrendered to his kiss, the dawning realization that I couldn't resist him any longer.

Actually, that I didn't want to.

He backed off, peppering soft kisses on my lips before resting his forehead against mine. His hands clung to my waist, tugging me close enough for our bodies to touch.

"I think we should head to my room," he murmured, flashing a smile. I chuckled softly, throwing my arms around his neck, and pulled him into another kiss.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

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allmoshnobrain · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 29 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2563 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

I wasn't ready for any of that. The wounds from losing Dave were still too raw, to the point that acknowledging the desire I felt for James made my heart tighten with regret. What the hell was I thinking? I'd chosen Dave. And yet, he’d left me. What I wanted didn't mean shit in changing anything. How could I want anything from James when the very feeling I had for him had wrecked everything I held dear?

✦ summary: After reuniting with her friends, Nore is compelled to confront the conflicting feelings she still harbors for James.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✦ a/n: Hello! I've talked about this previously on my blog, but as we're headed into the last stretch of the story, I would like everyone to know: while the next few chapters are gonna dive into James and Nore's feelings a bit more, Dave will be back! His story with Nore isn't over yet. Also, we'll have an epilogue that is still on the works. I've wrapped up the main part of the story and I'm hosting a poll to see if you guys prefer I keep posting new chapters once a week or if you're up for me posting them twice a week. If anyone wants to vote, here's the link. Hope you enjoyed the read, any feedback is welcome! 🖤

✧ There's something hanging in the air, I won't say shit 'cause I'm too scared / I'll just pretend we're two lovers not destroying each other / And you don't want me to go, and I just can't say no ✧

I met with Cliff and the guys at Los Angeles airport a few days later. I have to admit, the idea of reuniting with my friends after all those weeks left me a bit on edge, and not fully in a good way. However, catching up with Cliff and Leanne, and then with Kirk and Lars, did ease some of that tension. On the flip side, seeing Pat and James hanging out together didn't really help my state of mind. I couldn't help but wonder how, in just two months, they had become so close that she got an invitation to join the tour. Then it hit me with a pang in my heart that I hadn't needed much more than that to fall completely in love with Dave after meeting him.

I didn't really chat it up much with James. Seeing him with Pat kinda brought back all the wounds from that rainy weekend a few months back. But, he did give me a hug the moment he spotted me, holding onto me for maybe a beat longer than needed before whispering, his lips right by my ear:

"Missed you so much."

Hearing that sure didn't make things easier.

Seeing the guys all pumped up about the trip gave my mood a little boost. None of them, except Lars and me, had done the whole international travel thing before. The flight to Amsterdam was gonna be a marathon, so I had plenty of time to catch up with Leanne, who picked the seat next to mine. We mainly talked about everything that had happened in San Francisco during my absence; Leanne didn't ask much about me, which I was genuinely thankful for. It was nice having her around, but I wasn't really up for diving into how the last few months had been a rough ride. We kept the chatter going deep into the night until fatigue finally caught up with us, and we crashed.

We rolled into Amsterdam about twelve hours later, and man, we were wiped. Headed straight to the hotel, and lucky for us, the producers only snagged double rooms. Since we had an odd number and sharing a bed with Kirk or Lars wasn't my jam, I lucked out with a double bed all to myself. Honestly, better than I thought it'd be.

When night crept in, the guys and Leanne hit the town for some drinks and city exploring. Pat and I, though, opted for a chill night in, catching a few movies on the TV. Not that I wasn't up for hitting the streets, but all the hours spent on the plane did a number on me, more than I expected. Pat called it a night and went back to her room early, but I left the TV humming in the background, not really paying much attention to what was on.

It was well past midnight when I heard some heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. My curiosity kicked in as a few deliberate knocks hit my door, and I pondered for a moment, debating whether I should bother answering. But the knocks persisted, and my curiosity won out. With a sigh, I rose from my spot and opened the door. My heart quickened when I found James leaning casually against the door frame.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his voice betrayed a touch of uncertainty. I sighed, feeling warmth spread across my face. Having him so close made my heart flutter in a way I hadn't experienced in a while.

"This isn't your room," I mumbled, stupidly, my ability to think straight suddenly on vacation. He chuckled softly, a quick, dry laugh.

"If you hadn't said anything, I would never have guessed. Can I come in or not?"

I hesitated but eventually stepped aside, letting him in and closing the door. He stretched, shrugged off his jacket, and tossed it on my bed before settling down, kicking off his shoes. I furrowed my brow.

"You should head back to your room. Pat's probably waiting for you."

"She can wait," he said, finishing up with his shoes and pulling out a hair tie from his pocket, using it to secure his hair into a ponytail. Oddly, the sight made him even more attractive. I couldn't help but wonder if the hair tie belonged to Pat, who would often wear her hair tied up, and if he was picking up some habits from his new girlfriend. He stood up, seeming totally oblivious to my thoughts, and casually opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a Coke and popping it open. Then, he lifted his serious blue eyes to me. "I wanted to see you."

"Why?" I questioned, feeling my face warm up and my heart race, a million butterflies in my stomach going wild at his words. He sighed, a faint bitter smile playing on his lips.

"I missed you," he said, his voice low. "Last time we met, everything went south. I thought you hated me. Yet, when I saw you today, Nore..."

"James, please stop," I murmured, my voice trembling. He furrowed his brow, looking away, seeming hurt by my words, and I felt my heart squeeze uncomfortably in my chest. "You shouldn't be saying that."

"Oh, really?" He stood up, placing the can he was holding on the table before coming closer. I took a step back, feeling my face burn as I caught the storm brewing in his blue eyes. "And why’s that?"

"You have a girlfriend, don’t you?" I questioned, my voice holding accusation and hurt. "You brought your fucking girlfriend, so maybe you should just head back to her..."

"You make it sound so simple," he growled, taking another step closer, prompting me to lift my head to meet his gaze.

"And isn’t it?" I shot back, my tone bitter. "How aren't you ashamed of this?"

"Ashamed of what? Of bringing the girl I started dating to try forgetting about you?" he scoffed, clearly pissed now. "Tell me, Nore, what was I supposed to do? Just watch you reject me, again, and again, and again, and then act like you loved me just to mess with my head?"

"This isn’t fair to her!" I blurted out, all worked up, my voice getting louder. "This isn’t fair to me!"

"And what about me? Is it fair what you're pulling on me?"

"I don't get why you thought bringing her along was a genius move..."

"It didn't have to be genius. When you bailed on LA, I called you for days. You were the one who wanted nothing to do with me."

"You're such a jerk!" I spat out, my irritation cranking my voice up more than would be okay for past midnight, but honestly, I'd stopped caring about that ages ago.

James growled, getting suddenly closer, gripping my waist with one hand and pulling me against his body, forcing me to look deep into his eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine, his breathing erratic. His other hand cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. All the anger I had seemed to spill over at that moment; I wanted to punch him, to kick him out, to yell I never wanted to see him again, but I couldn't. Not when his lips were inches away from mine, his blue eyes locking onto mine with a fiery passion that made my whole body warm and vibrate inside.

"You fucking love me," he murmured, a smug smile slowly creeping across his lips. "Things would be so much easier if you just admitted it."

"Shut up, James," I growled, my heart doing a sprint in my chest, blood pulsing with fury in my ears, my hands clutching the front of his shirt and yanking him towards me. I needed him to split; I didn't know how much longer I could trust my anger to hold back the temptation of surrendering to his arms.

"Tell me you don't love me, then," he said, throwing in a sarcastic laugh. "Say you don't love me, and I’ll forget all this and leave you alone. You can't, can you? Because you fucking love me, damn it," His words buzzed with almost unrestrained joy, his grip on my waist tightening enough for me to let out a muffled moan from between my lips. Damn, I wanted him to kiss me. For the first time since all that mess had started, I wanted him to kiss me, to touch me, to make me forget my own name.

"Leave," I shot back, the defiance in my voice wavering as I sensed his body against mine. He let out a low chuckle but stepped back, his eyes ablaze, a smug smile on his face. I rested one of my hands on my chest, feeling my heart thudding against my fingertips, and noticed I was shaking. Gripping the doorknob with my other hand, I turned it but hesitated to open the door. "Just... Go, James. Please," I whispered, the adrenaline of the moment wearing off, and the old pain flooding back to fill my chest as my eyes welled up with tears.

James seemed to catch onto my shift in mood, the triumph in his eyes giving way to pity when he noticed my tears building up. That sparked a rage in my chest; I didn't need his pity. I didn't need anyone's pity.

He made a move to come closer, but I just shook my head, turning away as I opened the door. After he left, I leaned against the closed door, letting myself slide down to sit on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling more alone, confused, and guilty than ever.

I woke up the next morning, feeling like I hadn't caught a wink of sleep. I groaned my way out of bed, pausing only to wash my face, brush my teeth, and swap outfits before heading down to the hotel's restaurant. There, I spotted Kirk, Lars, Cliff and Leanne already posted up at a table, digging into breakfast. I snagged a plate and plopped down next to Lars.

“After breakfast, we'll pack our bags and grab a shower. We're hitting the road after the show for the next city, so tonight, we’re all gonna be sleeping on the bus,” Cliff was laying out the plan when I rolled in.

“Great. Even crashing on a bus is cozier than sharing a bed with Lars,” Kirk griped, ignoring Lars' offended expression before shooting me a grin. “Hey, Nore, fancy bunking with me next time?”

"As if," I scoffed, and Lars burst into laughter.

"Hey, where's James?" Kirk asked, and I shrugged. Leanne bounced up to snag a hot cup of coffee, and Cliff sparked up a cigarette.

"Bet he's sleeping with Pat. Ever since they got together, she's been glued to him," Lars remarked, not looking too thrilled. Cliff snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Jealous, Lars?" I jokingly tossed the question while slathering butter on a piece of toast. He shot me a look, raising his eyebrows with a smirk.

"Hmm, not me. Can't say the same for you, though, huh?" His ironic smile lingered. I let out a frustrated huff, rolling my eyes, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. Okay, maybe I walked right into that one.

A few minutes later, James and Pat finally strolled in. James, much like me, seemed to have had a rough night, evident in the dark circles under his tired blue eyes. On the flip side, Pat appeared to be the poster child for joy, easy smiles appearing on her lips as she talked to James, occasionally hugging his arm or intertwining her fingers with his. It was like she exuded confidence, as if she knew this was exactly where she belonged. Kind of got on my nerves, but I wasn't ready to dig into why.

The hustle for the show kicked off right after breakfast. We only had a short break to change and pack before heading back to the hotel lobby. A producer-arranged bus was set to pick us up, transporting everyone to a studio for the guys to rehearse the setlist during the day, and later to the venue for the shows. This leg of the journey got us all pumped. It wasn't just the band's inaugural international gig; we were also looking forward to meeting Venom and, naturally, enjoying some complimentary drinks. I must admit, even I was feeling a twinge of excitement and anxiety about the upcoming events.

I sparked up a cigarette while we hung out in front of the hotel, checking out the guys in action. They were teamed up with a couple of roadies, hauling gear that had been lugged up to the rooms the day before. Leanne strolled over.

"Got a light?" she asked, flashing a grin. I nodded, fished out my lighter, and passed it her way. She sparked up her cigarette, taking a few drags till it glowed. "Can I ask you something, Nore?"

"Sure thing, Lea," I replied, all curious. She shot me a look, her usual relaxed vibe getting a bit serious. Her eyes narrowed, like she was attempting to peek into my brain. "Spill it, what's on your mind?"

"How's it all sitting with you? You know, this whole James situation?" she asked, making me feel like there was a spotlight on me.

"James? What do you mean?" I stammered, feeling the heat hit my face. She let out a soft chuckle at my reaction.

"I'm seriously wondering how she hasn't picked up on it yet." Leanne nodded toward Pat; she was holding James’ hand and talking to Lars, who seemed bored out of his mind, like he'd rather be doing anything else. "The way he looks at you. And the way you look at him."

"What are you getting at?" I whispered, my heart doing a somersault of sorts in my chest.

"You're into him, right? And it's crystal he's into you. Maybe you two should ditch the pride act and just… Allow yourselves to be happy."

"But Pat likes him too," I mumbled, letting a touch of annoyance creep into my voice. And I still don't know if I can allow myself to like anyone again.

"Honestly? I think she's crushing harder on James Hetfield, the Metallica frontman, than our James," she said with a chuckle. "Babe, you and James always clicked so easy. You seriously gonna let that slip away like this?"

I was kind of stumped for a response; right then, the bus rolled up, stealing everyone's focus. Lea crushed her cigarette and shot me a smile, then sauntered over to Cliff, offering a hand with carrying an amp. I took a minute to soak in the sight before joining them, attempting to shove aside the tornado of feelings Leanne's words had kicked up in me.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

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allmoshnobrain · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 30 of 35 | masterpost

word count: 2563 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

Would being close to him still hurt if I weren't in mourning for everything I had lost? Would it still burn if there were no obstacles between us, no moral and painful restrictions preventing me from allowing myself to get lost in his embrace, his kisses, his touch? Did he know that I loved him, with a certainty as vast and bright as the sun? Did I want to make sure he did?

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✦ a/n: hi, guys! just wanted to let everyone know that as promised, I'll start posting these last few parts twice a week - on Mondays and then on Thursdays or Fridays, depending on how much free time I have. Hope you enjoy this one, feedback is welcome! 🖤

✧ you can blame it on the stars, you can tell it to the moon / baby, I used to be good but I went bad for you / you can try and escape me but I came for you ✧

"Thanks, Amsterdam! You guys rocked!" James shouted, a massive grin plastered on his face, eyes lit up with sheer excitement as the pumped-up crowd went wild with applause.

I couldn't help but crack a smile at the scene – James, Lars, Kirk, and Cliff showing their appreciation in those closing moments of the gig. It hit me then; I had missed this, the thrill, the carefree laughs, that electric buzz running through me. Snagging another beer from the cooler stashed at the stage corner, I trailed backstage, tagging along with Leanne and Pat.

Pretty soon, the guys sauntered in, all laughter and loud banter. Cliff led the charge into the dressing room, a damp towel draped around his shoulders and a joint already fired up. He shot us a grin before chiming in:

"Not too shabby for our first gig away from home, huh?"

"You guys killed it, as usual." Leanne beamed, striding over. She wrapped her arms around Cliff's neck, going up on tiptoes to plant a kiss on him. He chuckled, giving her a tight squeeze, and I couldn't help but smile at the sweet scene.

"We kicked ass!" Lars cheered, grinning from ear to ear. He whipped out a bottle of vodka from the mystery depths of wherever and began pouring shots. "Now, it's drinkin' time, and we're gonna soak in some Venom. Fucking Venom, man!"

"Think they'll autograph my guitar?" Kirk joked, laughing, as he swiftly downed his vodka shot. I chuckled, genuinely pumped, and joined in, pouring myself a shot of vodka. I glanced up when I sensed a weight on my shoulders – there was James, slinging an arm around me before snagging a vodka glass for himself.

"You're all sweaty," I scrunched up my face, and he just laughed, knocking back his vodka shot in one go.

"Wanna hop in the shower with me?" he teased in a husky chuckle, giving my cheek a quick kiss before sauntering off to join Pat. I stood there, dumbfounded, my face burning as I touched the spot on my cheek still tingling from his lips.

The guys headed for a shower break while the stage got prepped for the night's main event. Leanne joined Cliff in the shower, but Pat and I hung back in the dressing room. We polished off the vodka bottle while I enjoyed a smoke, chatting quietly.

"So, how's the tour life treating you?" I tossed out, more to fill the quiet air than anything else. Ever since I had ditched my gig at the record store after splitting with Dave, Pat and I hadn't talked at all. Now, seeing her all cozy with James felt a bit off. I couldn't shake off Leanne's words, about Pat maybe digging the idea of James more than the real deal of who he was.

"Oh, it's been fucking amazing!" she beamed, eyes gleaming as she popped open another beer. Her slightly rosy cheeks betrayed how intoxicated she was. "James has been dragging me to all sorts of gigs since we started dating. Bummer you've been missing out lately."

"Well, I'm here now," I flashed a smile, attempting to mask my unease. Thankfully, I wasn't stuck in the conversation for too long; a quick guitar chord played, signaling that Venom’s gig was kicking off. I rose with a smile that might've been just a bit forced. "The show's starting. Want to catch it?"

"I'll wait for James," she smiled, and I gave a nod before ducking out of the dressing room.

I hadn't taken more than a few steps down the corridor when I collided with James, heading the other way, shirtless, and holding yet another half-full bottle of vodka. A surprised sound escaped me as he snagged me by the waist, pulling me in with a grin the moment he spotted me.

"Hey, sweetheart. I was waitin' for you in the shower, you know?" he whispered in my ear, followed by a low chuckle. I knitted my brows, fighting off the way his voice sent my heart racing, and gave him a shove.

"James, are you out of your mind?" I grumbled, and he laughed, releasing me. "You fucking drunkard."

He just stuck out his tongue, taking another swig from the vodka bottle before strolling back toward the dressing room. I debated whether to trail after him, to coax him into some water to sober up, but then it hit me that Pat was still there, waiting. Suddenly, the buzz and beats from the stage sounded way more inviting; last thing I needed was to be alone in a room with Pat, James, and no one else.

The show was insane, just like I’d expected. Venom's tunes were fast and intense, and the hype from my friends definitely drowned out any worries I might've had. I couldn't give two cents that neither James nor Pat bothered to show up for the gig; right then, nothing and no one could ruin my mood.

There wasn't much time for a post-Venom celebration; in a flash, the gear was packed, and the producer corralled us onto the bus for the next city. As a last-ditch effort, we all got handed water to help shake off the buzz. It did the trick better for some than others; Cliff and Leanne seemed pretty chill, but I was starting to feel a bit queasy, and Lars and Kirk were cackling like a couple of goofballs, while James showed up being practically carried by one of the roadies. Pat stormed past the chaos, looking royally pissed, and hopped on the bus without saying a word to anyone. I ambled over, curious.

"Hey, what happened?" I inquired, but that just triggered another round of laughter from Lars and Kirk. I turned my gaze to James, who was seated on the sidewalk, sipping water with a seriously annoyed look on his face. "Everything alright?"

"You have no idea," Lars managed to say, trying to catch his breath between laughs. "James, spill it."

I shifted my focus to James, now intrigued. He glanced up at me and then shrugged with a grunt.

"Pat wanted to fuck… And I puked on her."

"You did what? " I exclaimed, incredulous, while Kirk and Lars cracked up even louder. James scowled, clearly annoyed by their reaction, but truth be told, I couldn't blame them. I was trying to stifle my own laughter, a goofy grin stubbornly plastered on my face. Instead of joining in the laughter, I handed him the water bottle I got after the show, still half full. "Here. Drink more water."

"What about you?" he asked, taking my bottle. I shrugged.

"Hey, I wasn’t the one who puked on someone today, right? Trust me, you need it more than I do."

After that, we didn't waste much time getting on the bus – nothing fancy, just your regular travel bus with reclining seats that doubled as our beds for the night. The crew stashed the gear in the cargo area, and we all picked our spots; the tech crew grabbed the front seats, Cliff and Leanne chose a spot towards the middle.

Pat claimed a seat upfront, away from James, who settled in with Lars and Kirk. It seemed she was still nursing some feelings about the dressing room incident, but at least she managed to shower and change before hopping on. I found a spot further back, alone, close to the mini-fridge for easy access to some water. It felt good to have a little alone time, even if it was just for some shut-eye; despite the fatigue, it seemed like it was gonna be a pretty long night.

I spent the first few hours of the trip soaking in the view from the window. At first, it was the city lights casting a glow as we cruised through the streets. As we hit the open road, it transitioned into an abyss of darkness.

I sensed his presence even before seeing him; I felt his gaze on me, and I lifted my eyes as he settled into the seat next to mine.

"James," I murmured, my weary voice signaling that I'd probably have dozed off any moment if he hadn't dropped by. "Feeling any better?"

"Took a power nap, so I think so," he grumbled.

"Did you brush your teeth? 'Cause tomorrow morning's gonna taste gross if you don't."

"Of course, silly," he chuckled softly, then took my hand in his.

I knew I probably shouldn't encourage him, but I didn't pull it away. His hand felt big and warm, and I found comfort in his touch more than I was willing to admit. His thumb gently stroked the back of my hand.

"You shouldn't do this," I muttered, and he let out a huff.

"I'm just holding your hand. Can't I even do that?"

I sighed. Exhaustion weighed on me. All I really wanted was to surrender, rest my head on his chest, and let him hold me until morning. But I couldn't, could I? Not when he had a girlfriend. Not when the specter of my past love for Dave haunted me every moment of my days, my nights, my life.

"I'm gonna break up with Pat," he declared, and I looked up, feeling my heart race. A surge of conflicting emotions hit me; hearing that made me happy, and that scared me the most.

"Why?" was all I could whisper. He sighed.

"I can't keep this up, Nore. She's a cool girl, but I don’t like her that way. Not the way I like you,” he murmured, and my heart fluttered at the vulnerability in his voice. "I don't want to be a jerk, I don't want to be with someone I'm not in love with. I'm gonna end it with her, and then..." his gaze, almost pleading, locked onto mine. "All I want is you. But if you don't want me..."

I reached my hand to his face. How could he not be sure that I wanted him when I could barely keep myself away from him? Even with my heart hurting, I could hardly divert my eyes from his gaze. If he wished, he could make me forget how to breathe. Despite his clear feelings for me lingering for so long, knowing that I could have even a fraction of this power over him felt too good to be true.

Did I want to make sure he did?

Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was my exhaustion, maybe it was the longing I felt to be loved, to be cared for, to be protected. Or maybe it was simply love that made me bring James’ face close to mine. His hands found my waist and lifted my body so that I sat on his lap, while my arms wrapped around his neck and my lips met his. I sighed, my tongue tracing slowly along the outline of his lower lip before venturing into his mouth, one of his hands securing the small of my back while the other got a good grip on my thigh.

I let my fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer, my body pressed against his with a need that startled me; I had never allowed myself to contemplate the vastness of my feelings, of my desire for James until now. But surrendering to it felt like freedom, opening up a gap as wide as the ocean that could only be filled by him.

His lips danced against mine, his hand gripping my face as he planted small bites on my lower lip. He shifted to my neck, exploring it slowly, leaving small bites and kisses that made me tilt my head back. My eyes closed, and a low, breathy moan escaped me.

"Hush, babe," he said in a breathless half-laugh, his lips coming back to mine. I let out a low whimper, lost in the discovery of the greatness of my desire, but James just caressed my face slowly, cradling it in his hands before giving me a tender kiss on the lips. ”Tomorrow. I'll talk to her tomorrow. And I don't want to wait a moment longer after that to have you,” he kissed me again, our tongues moving slowly together before he pulled away with a smile, “Can you be a good girl until then?”

“Shut up, James,” I whispered, and he chuckled softly.

That night, I allowed myself to rest from my pain. And I allowed myself to truly appreciate, for the first time in what felt like forever, desire, longing, love.

The hope of a promise.

The memory of his lips on mine.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9

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allmoshnobrain · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 22 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible. Something like a kiss.

✦ summary: An unexpected action by James confuses Nore's feelings and changes their friendship beyond repair.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use, kissing

✦ a/n: I'm back earlier this time! This part was a lot easier to write because I confess it has been living rent free in my head for a while lol Hope you guys like it, feedbacks are welcome and motivate me a lot!

✧ Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin / I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison ✧

The trip back to Los Angeles was pretty quiet as I got lost in my own thoughts. Still trying to wrap my head around my mom's offer and all the baggage it brought, my mind was racing, keeping pace with the dark night scenery outside the window.

"You're awfully quiet," Dave remarked, jolting me back to reality. I glanced at him; he was focused on the road, but looked a bit bothered by my silence.

"My bad," I murmured. "It's just... a lot to take in at once."

"No need to apologize," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He casually took one hand off the wheel, placing it on my thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. I rested my hand on his, leaning back into the seat. He furrowed his brow, the usual sign of concentration, and his hand left mine to shift gears; I smiled faintly, appreciating how good he looked when he was focused. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" I questioned, and he nodded with a grunt. I sighed. "I guess I'm okay. My family is complicated, but it's nothing I'm not used to."

"Your dad seemed nice," he smiled, stealing a quick glance at me. I chuckled softly.

"Yeah, he's... easier to deal with. Now, my mom..."

"She's... interesting," he commented, and I laughed softly, catching on that he was being polite. We were almost home now; Dave stopped the car at a red light and turned to face me, gazing into my eyes.

"She's a pain in the ass, that's what she is," I said, and he burst into laughter. "Always acting like she's better than everyone. She always... always makes me feel like I'm hard to love," I concluded with a sigh.

"Hey," he lifted my chin with his fingers, making me meet his serious and focused gaze. I felt my face warm as he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on my lips before pulling away. He whispered into my ear, "That's not true... It's very easy to love you."

The rest of September passed by like a hurricane. A few days after visiting my parents, we threw a small birthday party for Dave with our closest LA friends. To spice things up, there was a mini jam session where Dave, David, and a couple of other friends belted out some fresh tunes they'd cooked up. They had no vocalist yet, but I was blown away by the raw power and intensity of Dave's new compositions anyway. When he strummed those chords, it felt like a surge of electricity took over the whole place. Everything about him cranked up a notch; it was downright impossible to peel my eyes away, even for a second.

October rolled in, and with the streets all decked out for Halloween, I received an invite that temporarily shoved aside my worries about my mom's deal. Leanne's birthday was just around the corner, and she was throwing a bash for the upcoming weekend at Joe's place. Word was it would be a wild one. I hit up San Francisco on Saturday morning, thinking I was kinda early, but his place was already buzzing with people, tunes, and drinks.

"Nore! You made it!" Leanne beamed when she spotted me.

"Hey, Lea. Happy birthday." I grinned, handing over the gift I brought—some records from bands I knew she liked.

"Oh, you brought me a present, thank you!" she squealed, hugging me. I chuckled, giving her a squeeze back. She pulled away with a grin. "Hey, Cliff and the others are by the pool. I'm heading there soon, but if you wanna roll in before..."

"Oh, I'll track 'em down. Got a spot to stash this?" I pointed to the backpack on my back and the helmet from my bike.

I cruised to the backyard after Lea helped me stash my gear in Joe's room. Didn't have to play detective to find my friends; Cliff, Lars, James, and Kirk were deep in conversation by the pool, dead set on pouring vodka from a bottle into little plastic shot cups.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Lars yelped as I strolled up. "James, you snagged way more than the rest of us."

"Why don’t you pour it yourself, then?" James shot him a look, lifting an eyebrow. I grinned.

"Can't believe you dudes didn't save a drop for me," I teased, making them all look up at once.

"Nore!" Lars shouted, all pumped. I threw out a quick hi to the guys before zeroing in on Cliff.

"So, did Dave give you the green light to be here?" he quipped with a smirk. I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"He doesn't need to give me the green light for anything, Cliff," I muttered, and he chuckled before yanking me into a hug.

"Good to see you, Nore. Hey, what's that there?" Cliff pointed to the bag hanging from my arm.

"Oh, about that... Can I chat with you for a sec?" I asked in a hushed tone. Cliff raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued, but gave a nod. We strolled away, finding a quieter spot in the backyard. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, expertly fishing out a joint and lighting it, shielding the flame from the gentle morning breeze with his hands.

"So, spill. What's the scoop?" he asked, and I sighed before handing him the bag. He opened it, furrowing his brow at the sight of the Metallica record. "Wow. Is the album this bad?"

"It’s awesome ," I said, then sighed. "But... Cliff, Dave got really bent out of shape when he saw this. I just figured... maybe you could hold onto the record for me for a bit. I don't want him getting worked up about it..."

"Nore. This isn't right," Cliff stated, his voice firm. I lifted my eyes, locking onto his gaze, and could tell he wasn't very happy with what I'd just said. "You can't do this. You're giving up on living because of him. First, you move to be with him, and we hardly see each other anymore. Now this?"

"You don't get it, Cliff. Please," I pleaded. "I don't want to fight. Not with you guys, not with him."

"Is he giving you grief because of us?" Cliff raised an eyebrow. I sighed, dropping my gaze, but didn't say anything. "Nore." Cliff held my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I can hang onto this for you if you really want. But you gotta tell me you know he's not your responsibility."

"Cliff..."

"Remember what I said when you two started dating?" he cut me off. "If he messes with you, I got your back. Cool?"

"Okay," I murmured, giving a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anything for my fave cousin," he grinned, and I chuckled softly. "Come on, let's get back to the shindig."

Back in the mix with Kirk, Lars, and James, we found the vodka bottle now half-gone, abandoned at James' feet while they all helped themselves to some beers.

"I'm gonna stash this and track down Lea. Back in a sec," Cliff announced, waving the bag with my record. I gave a nod, turning my focus back to the guys.

"Hey, Nore!" James hollered, a grin spreading across his face the moment he spotted me. "There's no way you're sober. You used to be a champ at this drinking thing."

"James, it's ten in the morning," I laughed, and he scoffed, passing the beer he had to Lars and grabbing the vodka bottle from the ground. He popped it open, strolling over and throwing a hand on my shoulder with a grin.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of laying off the booze."

"Of course not," I shot back, raising an eyebrow challengingly. He, along with Lars and Kirk, burst into laughter.

"You gotta taste this vodka. Lars swiped it straight from his old man's stash," Kirk chimed in.

"Yeah, it's awful," Lars laughed, then hiccupped. I rolled my eyes with a smile. I knew my friends turned into total goofballs when they hit the bottle, but watching it unfold while I was stone-cold sober was a whole different trip.

"Come on, open up," James slurred, his words dragging, gripping my chin in his hand.

"James!" I exclaimed, caught off guard, releasing a nervous laugh as I tried to back away. James grumbled, his hand sliding from my chin to rest at the base of my neck, the rough palm pressing against my collarbone. I could feel my skin heating up, my face suddenly flushing. "What happened to the shot glasses?"

"We polished off the drinks and chucked 'em. Come on, you want this or not? Open up."

I scoffed but played along, letting him pour a bit of vodka straight into my mouth. James grinned, his gaze fixed on my lips as I swallowed. He swiped away a droplet that had slid down to my chin with his finger.

"Good girl," he teased, a mischievous smile on his lips as he locked eyes with me. "See? Wasn't that hard."

"Shut up, Hetfield," I shot back, giving him a playful shove, my face heating up even more. He huffed, made a face at me, then strolled off toward the drink coolers without a backward glance.

"Hey! That's my vodka!" Lars protested angrily, before trailing after James. "Get back here, damn it, I haven't finished drinking!"

I watched them go, an uneasy feeling creeping into the depths of my chest. Why did it suddenly feel like maybe I shouldn't have shown up? These were my friends, right? So why did everything seem more complicated than it should be?

"They get really happy when you’re here," Kirk observed. I blinked, surprised by his words. He shot me a smile, but his eyes seemed intrigued.

"What do you mean?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"Just that you can tell they really like you."

I ended up talking to Kirk for a few minutes, both of us getting a good laugh watching Lars and James from a distance. Lars was on a mission to reclaim his vodka bottle, while James danced around him with ease. Kirk turned out to be a really cool guy; laid-back and easy to chat with. Eventually, Cliff and Leanne joined us, hauling in a crate of beers that we gladly shared among the four of us.

When the beer stash ran dry, I volunteered to restock. I cruised to the kitchen, where I found James slouched at the table, his head buried in his arms, the vodka bottle now empty and cast aside at his feet.

"Ah, there you are," he mumbled, his voice slurred, and his eyes a bit blurry as he caught sight of me.

"Are you okay?" I questioned, a tad concerned by his condition. He shrugged. "Do you want some water?"

He grumbled, and I interpreted it as a "yes." Scouting around the cabinets, I found a glass and filled it with water. James promptly downed it, grimacing, his eyes blinking and honing in on my face.

"And you? Don't you need a bit of water too?"

"I'm fine," I furrowed my brow, even though I felt a bit lightheaded from the amount of beer I'd drank. "I just came to snag more beer for us. You should join. By the way, where's Lars?"

"In the bathroom," James grumbled, then he hoisted himself up, clutching the back of the chair for balance. I placed a hand on his back, trying to assist. He scowled. "You said you came to get more beer?"

"Yeah, any idea where it is?"

He pointed to the corner of the kitchen, where some cases of beer were stacked near the stove. I grabbed one of the packs, tossing it onto the table. James nabbed one of the beers, popping it open.

"James, maybe you should take a breather," I suggested, and he snorted.

"Why?" he asked, staring at me with a furrowed brow, his blue eyes defiant. "I've been waiting for weeks to see you, and now that you're here, you don't even want to be near me. At least drinking makes it a little more fun for me."

I blinked, my mouth opening in surprise as I tried to process what James had just said. It's not like I was angry, annoyed or avoiding James at all, but the worry about Dave and my parents reappearing in my life made it a bit harder to enjoy myself this time. However, for James to think that had anything to do with him? That wasn't right.

"This has nothing to do with you," I uttered in a low voice. He approached, his brow furrowed, placing the open beer on the table. "I don't want you to think..."

"Think what? That you're done being my friend?" he took another step closer, and I backed up, hitting the cold wall. He rested one hand on the wall, leaning down so his face was at the same level as mine. My heart squeezed seeing the anguish in his eyes. "Since you moved to Los Angeles, we hardly see each other anymore. You not into me anymore?"

"Don't say that," I whispered, my voice trembling, my eyes filling with tears hearing the bitterness in his voice. As complicated as things were, the last thing I wanted was for my friends to think I didn't want to be with them. "James, this isn't fair..."

And then he kissed me.

Maybe I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I should've picked up on the closeness and tension that had been steadily building between us since the day he first laid eyes on me. All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible.

Something like a kiss.

Instead, there he was, his body pinning mine against the wall, his hands cradling my face, his lips moving against mine with a desperate hunger I never thought I'd find in his arms. For a moment, all I could feel was him —his scent, his body, his kiss. But my blissful confusion lasted no more than a few seconds before it was replaced by panic: this wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening. We were friends. I had a boyfriend.

I shoved my hands against his chest, giving him a solid push. He pulled back abruptly, his blue eyes showing a hint of sobriety as he took in my state—my face all red, breath coming quick as my heart raced, and my stomach filled with a million butterflies. For a beat, it was just us, his eyes glued to mine in a mix of confusion and ecstasy, before anger started bubbling up in my chest, ready to explode. I shook my head, in disbelief, and stormed out of the kitchen in a burst of rage that seemed to leave him bewildered.

I sprinted past Cliff, Leanne, and Kirk, barely registering the surprised looks they shot my way as I bolted to the front of the house. I plopped down on the curb, my breath coming quick, almost in a state of panic as I desperately searched my pockets for my pack of cigarettes and lighter. When I finally found them, it was useless; my hands were shaking so much, my breath all over the place as I tried to hold back tears, that I just couldn't light my cigarette.

"Nore? Shit, what happened?" I heard Cliff ask. I looked up to see that he had followed me and was standing beside me, staring at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Cliff..." I began, my voice shaking. He settled beside me, taking my hand in his, gripping it firmly while his eyes scanned my face, genuine concern etched on his features. "Cliff, James..."

"Did you guys have a fight?" he asked, furrowing his brow. I sniffled, shaking my head.

"Cliff, he kissed me," I murmured, suddenly feeling like I was 15 again, talking to Cliff on the phone about some boy from school who had broken my heart. His eyes widened at my words, his incredulous expression slowly being replaced by one of anger.

"And why are you crying like this? Did he force you? I'll beat the crap out of him..." he growled, letting go of my hand and starting to stand up.

"Cliff, no!" I exclaimed, tugging him by the hand. He looked at me, confused. "He didn't force me. It just happened out of nowhere. I just... Cliff, I have Dave. I never thought James..."

"You didn't know he liked you? Nore, that was kind of obvious," he interrupted, and I groaned in frustration.

"It's not that! Cliff, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want him to think... I just wanted to be friends with him. Why do things have to be so complicated?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears again. Cliff stared at me for a moment before sitting back down beside me with a sigh. He pulled me close into a hug, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"First, let's go back to the party, and I'll get you some water, okay? We can talk to James later if we need to. But knowing him... If you left like that, I doubt he'll want to talk about it."

Cliff was more right than I thought; when we got back to the party, James was nowhere to be found. I tried to cheer up, especially for Leanne and Cliff, but it was useless. I spent the rest of the day worried about James, wondering where he might be, and if I had hurt him beyond repair.

When the party wrapped up, Cliff, Leanne, and I hopped into a taxi to Leanne's house. I had left my motorcycle in Joe's garage and planned to swing by the next day to grab it before heading back to Los Angeles. I tried to perk up as Leanne and Cliff enthusiastically decided what to order for dinner, but not even a hot shower was enough to lift my spirits; I was more intoxicated than I wanted, concerned about my friend, and trying to ignore how the feeling of his lips on mine kept replaying in my head every five minutes, which basically made me want to die.

"You don't need to worry about him. He'll show up," Cliff assured me later, after we had finished off the pizza Lea had ordered for dinner. The news was playing on the TV, and I could hear the water running in the bathroom as Lea took a shower, but I wasn't really paying attention to any of those things. "I mean, he could already be home... I tried calling, but I think Lars and Kirk must have passed out as soon as they got there."

"What am I gonna do, Cliff?" I asked, softly. I was totally lost. Now that all the lines in my friendship with James had blown up in my face, I didn't know what to do — and I didn’t want to deal with any of it. There was already too much on my mind. But I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, either.

Cliff didn't say anything; in fact, I don't think he knew what to say. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a tight hug. I sighed, shutting my eyes, trying to soak up that brief moment of calm. Wishing it could magically wipe away the ache in my heart — even though I knew it couldn't.

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allmoshnobrain · 1 year ago

Text

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 24 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3754 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

“Please, Nore. Stay with me,” he pleaded, and I knew he wasn't just talking about that night. Our eyes locked, my heart racing in a completely new way. I'd never felt this way around him before. It used to be so easy, just being with him, talking to him, laughing together. Now, it just felt like all that closeness was no longer enough. I couldn't stand this.

✦ summary: Nore realizes that her own feelings for James are deeper than she had ever allowed herself to imagine.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, jealousy, love triangle, drinking, smoking

✦ a/n: I'm really glad I managed to write a lot of Heartbreaker during my Christmas break and I'm feeling really inspired to write more! Feedbacks are really welcome and motivate me a lot 🖤 Happy 2024 everyone! Hope you liked this part and see you soon :D

✧ If he's as bad as they say, then I guess I'm cursed / Looking into his eyes, I think he's already hurt / He's already hurt / I said, "don't be a jerk, don't call me a taxi" / Sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat / I just wanna dance with you ✧

James and I crossed paths again a few days later, right in the middle of a Wednesday morning. I was knee-deep in organizing the fresh vinyl records that just landed in the store when I caught the sound of someone strolling in. Knowing Pat was holding down the fort at the counter, I figured she'd take care of the customer, no big deal.

So, with my hands full of empty record boxes, I swung back to the front, only to get hit with the surprise of the day: there was James, rocking his old leather jacket and a worn-out denim vest, his blonde locks falling over his shoulders.

At first, he didn't even notice me, just casually chatting with Pat. She was all smiles, an open magazine forgotten in her lap, elbows on the counter, chuckling at whatever he was saying. The sight stirred up an uneasy feeling in my chest; for a moment, I couldn't help but reminisce about how James had hardly looked into my eyes when we first met, how it took us a bit to get close. Now, here he was, flashing a confident grin at a girl he'd only met a few days back, almost as if he were a completely different person.

"Hey, Nore!" Pat beamed when she spotted me, yanking me back from my thoughts. James swung around, a grin lighting up his face. "Look who's here."

"Hi, James." I tossed a greeting his way while depositing the empty boxes in a corner behind the counter. Standing up, I faced him, smiling, and swiped my hair away from my face. "What brings you here? Thought you guys had already hightailed it back to San Francisco."

"Oh, Cliff and Kirk took off already. Lars and I hung around to sort out a few things," he explained, then turned to Pat. "Mind if I borrow your friend for a bit?"

"Only if you pinky swear we'll catch up again soon." She grinned, and he winked, a hint of shyness coloring his cheeks with a faint blush before he strolled away. I sighed and trailed after him outside the store.

"So, spill the beans," I asked, leaning against the wall and fishing my pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I brought one to my mouth, hunting for my lighter, but James beat me to it; he pulled out a lighter from his jacket, firing it up. I leaned in, getting my cigarette lit before stepping back and locking eyes with him again. "You've been in LA since the weekend and didn't even shoot me a call? And what's the deal with Pat catching up again with you, huh?"

"I told you, band business to sort out," he replied, his face still a bit flushed. "We snagged an extra show, just in case you still care. I swung by to drop off tickets for you two, it's happening this Saturday."

"I never said I could make it," I raised an eyebrow, and he huffed.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Are you on your period or something?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes.

"Maybe I'd be a bit more chill if you'd answer my questions instead of pretending you're deaf."

"What question did I dodge?"

"About Pat," I finally blurted out, my face warming, regret hitting me as soon as the words left my mouth. James blinked, looking a bit surprised, and I sighed. I was being dumb, I thought. It's not like he owed me an explanation about what he did with his life.

"We hung out on Monday for drinks. She asked me out after last week's show. That's all," James finally spilled, his tone calmer and gentler than I expected. I raised my eyes, meeting his gaze, the sudden intensity in his eyes making my mouth go dry. "Wasn't anything special anyway."

"I don't care," I shot back, suddenly feeling defensive again. He gave me a puzzled look.

"Then why'd you bother asking?"

"Come on, James, just hand over the tickets already."

"Alright, alright," he grunted, pulling two envelopes from his pocket and passing them my way. I tore open one of the envelopes, peeking inside to find the show ticket and that familiar backstage access badge.

"Nore," he called, and I looked up, blushing a bit as I realized he had inched closer, his hand casually resting on the wall beside me. "You don't have to invite her if you don't want to. It can just be you. You know that, right?"

"You said you needed an audience. Can't exactly bring Dave, can I?" I quipped. The mention of Dave seemed to rattle James; he tensed up, pulling away from me and avoiding eye contact with a sigh. I blinked, puzzled by his reaction, my heart racing as I waited for him to say something, anything, but he remained silent. "James..."

"See you on Saturday, alright?" he cut me off, staring at me with a furrowed brow. I just nodded, still too baffled by our weird exchange to spit anything out. He then strolled away, leaving me alone and on edge, my hand squeezing the envelope he'd brought as I watched him retreat, his tense shoulders carrying the weight of the unspoken words between us.

The night air was cool, almost chilly, signaling the approaching winter. I sighed, trying to focus my gaze — a bit of a challenge after downing as many free beers as I could at the show. I touched my nose with my fingertips; it was cold, just like my cheeks. Maybe I should've brought my jacket, but I knew once we hit the post-show party, my cold would fade amidst the drinks and the buzz of the celebration.

A cozy warmth enveloped me as a leather jacket landed on my shoulders. Lifting my eyes, I met the familiar blue of James' eyes. He gave me a smile, almost like an apology, before saying, "You looked cold."

"Just a bit. Have you finished loading all the stuff?"

He nodded absentmindedly. I glanced around, checking the stage to make sure the band hadn't left anything behind — even picks or a cable would cost money to replace if lost. The venue felt almost eerie, all empty after the crowd had cleared out. I grinned when Cliff showed up, emerging from backstage.

"Hey, ready to roll?" he asked. "We've got to drop stuff off at Mike's place first, then catch up with Kirk and Lars at... What's her name again?"

"Pat," I reminded him.

Pat couldn't make it to the show that night because she was gearing up for a weekend party while her dad was out of town. But she made me swear that I'd bring the band after the gig. I knew deep down she was all about getting James to swing by — ever since he popped up at the record store, she couldn't shut up about him. Lars and Kirk were already en route, but James, Cliff, and I hung back to handle the logistics before wrapping up the night.

"Let's roll, then," Cliff said, and James and I followed him to the parking lot. We ran into a small group of fans, around five people who had decided to wait for the band's exit. James seemed a bit more introverted that night, so he and I leaned against Cliff's car while my cousin chatted with the guys.

"You know, I'm not really feeling the whole party thing tonight," James chimed in, his gaze wandering as Cliff signed a Kill 'Em All booklet. He shot me a look from the corner of his eye, a faint smile playing on his lips. "We could ditch. Do something more interesting."

"More interesting? Like what?" I laughed, shaking my head. At that moment, we were both a bit buzzed, the beer helping us forget the tensions of the past few days. Words flowed easier, and smiles came more naturally. It had been a killer show, with a hyped-up audience and a chill vibe among the guys, adding to James' good mood. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

"You know, I've always wanted to check out the strip clubs here in LA…"

"James!" I laughed, and he joined in, slinging an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

That move, once so natural, got my heart racing, and my face suddenly heated up at the closeness. His jacket wrapped around me carried his scent, and his rough fingers lingered on my waist for a beat. If I were a bit more sober, maybe anxiety would make me want to pull away. However, in that moment, I allowed myself to be just a bit close to him. We were friends, after all, right?

"Come on, you two," Cliff grumbled before popping open the car door and settling into the driver's seat.

"I'm calling shotgun!" I rushed, swinging open the front passenger door. I let out a surprised yelp when James grabbed my wrist.

"You always do that. Tonight’s my turn," he said, his eyes sparkling, clearly just doing it to mess with me. I furrowed my brow.

"Hey, Cliff's my cousin! I have a right to the front seat, okay? Besides, you always shove the seat way back because of those massive legs of yours."

"You could sit on my lap. Then we could both be up front," he suggested with a smirk, and I rolled my eyes, my face warming.

"Dream on, Hetfield," I grumbled, giving him a playful shove. He laughed but settled into the back while I claimed the seat next to Cliff.

We cruised by Mike's house, where the guys were crashing in Los Angeles. Then, we made our way to Pat's place. I'd been there a couple of times before — a cute two-story wooden house, painted white with a backyard big enough to host a decent-sized crowd. When we rolled up, it was clear that this wasn't just a "few people" gathering: the joint was packed, with muted music wafting from the living room as folks shuffled around with smokes and red cups.

"Your friend knows how to throw a party, huh?" Cliff remarked, a cigarette dangling between his teeth.

"Hey, I bet Lars and Kirk are already super wasted," James exclaimed, chuckling softly, his slightly flushed face giving away that he, too, wasn't entirely sober.

"I wonder if Lars has already pulled a 'no clothes' move like that one time," I said with a giggle. Cliff rolled his eyes.

"You two aren't doing much better, you dorks."

"Shut up, Cliff." I stuck my tongue out at him, and James laughed before adding:

"Hey, last one in is a loser!" He sprinted toward the entrance of Pat's house, and I let out an indignant yelp before chasing after him. I could hear Cliff grumbling something about "drunk idiots" behind me, but he didn't run — it would take much more than a beer-fueled challenge to disrupt Cliff's own pace.

James beat me there, no surprise. He spun around, mischief in his eyes, and opened his arms just in time to halt my collision course. The beer I'd been nursing all night made it tricky to put the brakes on my run. I let out a surprised yelp as he caught me in his arms, a low laugh escaping him. I joined in, trying to catch my breath.

"See, that's why I don't smoke as much as you do. Can't even handle a little run," he teased, laughing, and I rolled my eyes.

We untangled, still chuckling as we trailed after Cliff into Pat's house. I scanned the crowd, looking for familiar faces, a grin stuck on my face as I tried to catch my breath, my heartbeat still racing in my chest.

It didn't take us long to spot someone familiar; soon enough, I spotted Pat, chilling by the record player with a beer, deep in conversation with two girls who could practically be twins. She briefly glanced towards the entrance but didn't seem to notice me. Her eyes lit up, and she hustled over.

"James! So stoked you made it," she exclaimed, grabbing onto one of his arms. He raised his eyebrows, looking surprised. My face suddenly heated up, and all the good vibes I had been riding on disappeared. Pat's entrance seemed to pop the bubble of fun and ease that had been with us all night. Now, the old anxiety and discomfort were sneaking back into my chest, even though I couldn't quite figure out why. "I want you to meet Josie and Mary; they're my cousins."

"Uh, let me just..." he started, his eyes glancing nervously toward me. I noticed Cliff observing the whole thing, raising an eyebrow with a barely hidden ironic look on his face. James's eyes met mine briefly before I sighed and turned, navigating through the crowd until I hit the kitchen. There, I found Kirk and Lars, talking and laughing quietly while sharing a bottle of whiskey.

"Hey, Nore!" Lars exclaimed with excitement when he spotted me. "You finally made it! Where are Cliff and James?"

"Somewhere," I dodged, leaning against the kitchen counter near them and nodding towards the whiskey bottle. "Where'd you guys snag this?"

"Oh, your friend's dad has an awesome stash of booze in the living room cabinet. She said we couldn't touch it, but..." Lars trailed off, and Kirk chuckled. "It was too tempting to resist, so we swiped this when she got distracted."

"Man, you guys are jerks. Hook me up?" I asked. Kirk turned with a grin.

"Wait, you're not gonna scold us and tell us to put it back?"

"Why would I do that? Come on, give me a bit." I grabbed the bottle from Lars, taking a hefty swig that set my throat on fire and brought tears to my eyes. Lars let out an enthusiastic "that's the spirit!" making me laugh quietly. I risked a second sip before passing the bottle back to Kirk.

We killed that whiskey bottle until it was history. Staring at the empty thing weirdly satisfied me, even though I knew I'd pay for it with a head that felt like it had its own little earthquake, signaling a solid hangover for tomorrow. I left Kirk and Lars talking and made my way to the backyard, surprisingly empty. The cool night air did wonders to ease the heat that had claimed my skin. I shut my eyes, took a deep breath, and savored the fresh air, a welcome escape from the packed and stuffy vibes inside.

"Found you," James' familiar voice chimed in. I opened my eyes and spotted him, leaning against the open door that led to the kitchen. His gaze seemed worried, irritating me a bit, even though I couldn't quite put my finger on why.

"Found indeed. Congratulations," I quipped, aiming for humor but sounding more bitter than intended. My words stumbled out, tangled in the effects of the alcohol. He frowned, looking hurt by my words, which made my heart squeeze. I let out a sigh as he approached.

"You’re confusing me," he murmured, the words sounding almost unsure, like he was tiptoeing on shaky ground, unsure of what might happen if he said too much.

My face warmed up, heart skipping a beat and a hollow feeling settling in my stomach. There it was again: that awkwardness, foreign and sharp, like a dagger poking into my guts. Months before, none of this would've happened between us. Months before, I would never feel anxious or insecure around him. I would never have a million butterflies fluttering in my stomach when his troubled gaze sought mine. All I wanted was to give him a hug, take away whatever was bothering him. But it felt like I couldn't take that step. Like anything I did would just mess up whatever was left between us.

"I don't want to confuse you," I managed to murmur, my voice trembling a bit. He sighed, ran a hand through his blond hair, getting even closer.

"When that shit went down at Leanne's party, I... I figured you were done with me. Thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore. Like, didn't even want to be friends. I thought I'd crossed a line I shouldn't have. And yet..." He paused, twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. "I don't regret it, Nore."

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked, my heart racing, my voice barely more than a whisper. He let out a low, almost embarrassed laugh, then brought the tips of his fingers to my chin, lifting it so our gazes met.

"When you told Pat to come talk to me, I thought you didn't care. But now, every time you see me with her, you get upset. You think I don't notice?"

"I don't get upset," I shot back, my face on fire. Sure, sometimes I felt a bit weird with Pat around, but that didn't mean anything, right? Nothing special about envying how confidently she could approach James, nothing special about not liking how, even though he seemed clearly confused by her interest, he wasn't exactly putting up much of a fight. Nothing special about not liking how they'd gone out together without telling me. How they seemed to be getting closer every day.

"Nore," James called my name, snapping me out of my momentary daze. I lifted my eyes, my lips parting a bit, my face flushed as he got even closer, resting his hands on the balcony railing around me. "If you don't want me to go out with her, you can tell me. You can always tell me whatever you want. I'd never do anything to upset you."

"Why?" I murmured, and he sighed, the agony creeping back into his eyes like nasty poison.

"Because I'm in..." he started, then halted, biting his lip and looking away. I looked away too, my breath going out of rhythm, my face burning under the weight of his unfinished confession. I knew if he finished that sentence, there would be no going back. No more avoiding the whirlwind of feelings that had been growing in my chest, ignored for so long, becoming more and more impossible to shove aside.

I knew it then, with a heart-wrenching certainty: if he said he loved me, right there, right then, I'd be caught, unable to deny that I felt the same.

"I gotta go," I said, giving him a gentle push by placing my hand on his chest. But he snagged my hand, fingers weaving into mine, putting the brakes on my escape.

I couldn't stand this.

I let out a shaky sigh as he traced the outline of my lower lip with his thumb, edging even closer, holding my face in his hand. His other hand found its place on my waist, and I felt my back meet the wall behind me as he closed the gap. Forehead pressed against mine, his gaze focused and serious. My thoughts raced as fast as my heart, trying to focus, wrestling against my intoxication. This ain't right, I thought, but I didn't have the guts to shove him away.

We jumped apart when the kitchen door swung open, and Lars and Kirk rolled out. James let out a disappointed sigh as I fumbled clumsily for my cigarettes, trying to hide the redness in my cheeks as they approached.

"There you are!" Lars said with a grin, then glanced at James. "Your girl's on the hunt for you, dude."

"We were just..." James cleared his throat, his face a bit flushed as he ruffled his blond hair. "We were just catching a smoke. And she's not my girl, Lars."

"Actually, I'm outta here," I chimed in, trying to ignore the disappointed look on James's face. "Can you tell Cliff I’m bailing? I'll dial up a taxi."

"What, already?" Lars asked, his words a bit slurred from the booze. Kirk shot a quick look between me and James, his eyebrows rising in curiosity.

"Yeah, I... I'm not feeling great. But it's nothing major; just need some sleep."

"At least let me take you home," James suggested. I glanced at him, my heart picking up speed, a sudden frustration bubbling up. This wasn't right. He was my friend. Things between us were supposed to be easy, and he was messing it all up!

"No need. Go back to your girl; she's waiting for you," I shot back, my tone sharper than I meant. He looked at me, eyes hurt like I'd just shoved a knife deep into his chest.

"Fine, whatever," he grumbled and headed back inside the house.

"Not in a good mood today, huh?" Lars remarked, raising an eyebrow. I huffed.

"Everything cool, Nore?" Kirk asked, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm cool. Just need to bounce, guys, really," I said defensively.

Turned out, no taxi was needed; Cliff offered me a ride the moment he heard I wasn't feeling too well. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, the good vibes from the start of the night totally evaporated as I watched the streets of LA zoom by the window.

"So, regretting it already?" Cliff dropped out of nowhere. I shot him a look, furrowing my brow.

"Cliff, what..."

"You know exactly what I mean, Nore," he cut me off, and I rolled my eyes.

The rest of the ride was quiet. Cliff didn't push for small talk, and I wasn't feeling chatty either. Honestly, I was more confused than I'd been since leaving my parents' place. I tried convincing myself that things could stay the same with James. We could brush off the kiss, chalk it up to booze and longing, just some unfortunate incident. Nothing altered. He and I would stay tight, and nothing would faze us.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

At some point since he had kissed me, things had changed. Or maybe I just couldn't ignore something that had been there for a long time.

That James loved me.

And that I couldn't say I didn't feel the same.

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