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soloroomies · 5 months ago

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lifemate (Chapter 3/ Sakusa x f!reader)

summary: two years have passed, are you both still up for it? word count. 2.3k cw. marriage pact au a/n. the intro of the story turns out to be quite long... but, here it goes! I'm happy I have a lot of spare time now. So, I think the update for this story will be pretty quick (for now)! Masterlist

A few days later, you tell your predicament to your best friend from college, Tami. She lives in a different city now, so you send her a few messages and call her. She laughs and gives you a piece of her mind regarding the idea.

“That’s actually kinda crazy… Like, wow. I know you’re creative and all, but I didn’t expect you to do something like this. This is another level,” she continues to laugh loudly. You roll your eyes at this, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement.

“Oh no, wait. I can actually see you doing this type of thing,” she adds, still chuckling.

“Hey, please help a friend here. Does it really sound that bad?!” you plead, hoping for some serious advice.

“Do you want me to be honest?” she asks, her tone suddenly serious.

“Of course!”

“In all my life knowing you and hearing your love life stories, I never see you wanting to pursue someone. Like, be committed, y’know?”

You pause to think for a second. That’s true. She’s right.

“Errr, yeah, I think. But, I would want to be committed if that person makes me want to! It’s just I never found the one that makes me want to. You get what I mean?” you explain, feeling a bit defensive but also reflective.

“But, how would you know? Like, what’s your standard? What kind of person makes you want to do that?” Tami presses, her curiosity genuine.

You’re stunned. Fuck. You don’t really know. Isn’t it just like a gut feeling or something? Or someone who makes you feel butterflies in your stomach? Or is it someone who makes you feel secure? You don’t really know. Tami senses your hesitancy and sighs.

“See. You don’t know it yourself,” she says, her voice softening.

“I’m no psychologist or something, but I know you. I know you have it in yourself to love someone deeply. But, you also have some standards that you set for yourself. It’s not weird at all,” she reassures you.

“It’s tricky. But, I think maybe that’s what makes you struggle a bit to start intimacy with someone.”

You get every word she says and, damn, she really knows you so well. Her insights are like a mirror reflecting your innermost thoughts.

“Not everyone will have the same relationship journey, y’know? Not everyone will feel or experience romantic love. But, in no way am I trying to tell you that you will not experience that,” she continues, her tone both comforting and encouraging.

You understand what she means. You sometimes expect yourself to experience the kind of love that movies, songs, and pop culture depict. Maybe some people do experience that, but not everyone’s reality is the same.

“I do think that the marriage stuff is beneficial though for you. But, how about your need for intimacy? Will you get it from him, from Kiyoomi?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

“I don’t know. But, I care about him,” you reply honestly.

“That’s good.” Then, she goes silent. Seems like she’s thinking. You’re thinking, too. What kind of arrangement will this marriage be? Will this be the kind of open marriage, with both of you can be with anyone? That’s something that you’ll need to further discuss with Kiyoomi. Some rules and boundaries need to be set. Tami seems to have the same thoughts as you as she speaks up about it a moment later.

“On the other hand, though. Sakusa is hot as fuck,” she says, breaking the serious tone with a playful remark.

You laugh loudly, the sudden shift catching you off guard.

“What, you don’t think so? I honestly am surprised with you. You always send me TikTok thirst traps of some random men. I know you know fine men when you see one. And, urgh, your friend is so fine too, girl! Are you blind or something?!”

“Of course, I find him handsome, too! That’s why I’m telling you that I don’t want to trap him with me when he can be with any majestic woman he likes! Plus, it’s weird to think your friend is hot all the time,” you roll your eyes, feeling a bit defensive again.

“I’ll say this sincerely. You and him look good together. That’s it,” she states firmly.

You try to picture you and Kiyoomi together, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and warmth.

“If this plan of you and him happens, he’ll be your husband!” she exclaims, emphasizing the word "husband" with a teasing tone.

You try to picture you and Kiyoomi doing some domestic stuff together and find yourself blushing. What?!

“S—shut up!!” you stutter, feeling flustered.

Tami laughs hearing you stutter, enjoying the reaction she’s elicited.

“Don’t even think about not consummating your marriage! I know you’re not that stupid!” she adds, her voice dripping with playful mischief.

You shush her again, feeling embarrassed and overwhelmed by the thought. You really don’t want to think of Kiyoomi that way. It feels wrong.

You end your call with your best friend, concluding that you better not rely fully on the pact you made with Kiyoomi. You should still live your day like usual and try to find your potential love interest as usual.

And you did. You go about your days as usual, juggling work, meeting with friends, and attending your monthly meet-ups with Komori and Kiyoomi. Nothing is brought up about the pact with Kiyoomi. Even though it occasionally comes to mind unexpectedly. Life is hectic as always, but you still find time to go on a few dates with new people, either introduced by friends, colleagues from work, or even your parents. Without realizing it, two years have passed.

This New Year's, you spend it at your family home, reconnecting with your parents and some of your extended family. You also reunite with some friends, including Tami, who decides to visit your city. After a few days, you return to your apartment on Friday night, deciding to rest before returning to work on Monday.

That is until you receive a message from Komori in your group chat with him and Sakusa. He invites you and Sakusa to a party at his house on Saturday night. After pondering for a bit, you decide it will be a great way to end your holiday. You miss them, and a party sounds fun. You reply to the chat, confirming you'll come. Minutes later, you see that Sakusa has also replied that he will be there. Komori's parties often include volleyball pro athletes, tall men with their muscular bodies, which is always a plus. You laugh to yourself, mentally slapping yourself for the thought.

Suddenly, upon seeing Sakusa's message in the group chat, you remember something very important that you had forgotten. Shit, shit! You check your calendar. Has it really been two years? Damn, this is the year. You sit in stunned silence for a few minutes. Does Sakusa even remember? Has he gotten himself a girlfriend yet? You try to recall your meet-ups with him and Komori. You remember Komori teasing him about some girls a few times, but there were no clear signs that he was in a relationship. Shit. It would be weird to bring it up. You might look desperate or something. And why did you suddenly remember this now?! Things were fine when you didn’t.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. You’re a grown woman, dammit! You decide not to bring it up unless Sakusa does. You want to see how serious he is about this. If he’s serious, he’ll remember, right? Are you being immature right now? Hopefully not! Why do you feel this way though? It’s just Kiyoomi. You huff, frustrated with yourself. Whatever. You’ll just see how the night goes tomorrow.

The night of the party finally arrives. You dress casually for the occasion, opting for light blue jeans and a white, fluffy sweater in case the night gets colder. After doing your makeup and hair, you quickly order an online taxi and head to Komori’s house.

You arrive ten minutes after the designated time for the party, and some people are already there. You see some of Komori’s friends from the EJP Raijin team and Sakusa’s MSBY team. Before you can get anywhere, Komori greets you cheerfully. Beside him is Mia, Komori’s wife, who offers you a warm smile and invites you to the snacks corner.

You make light conversation with Mia, asking about the food she made and complimenting her on how delicious it tastes. You also meet some other wives and girlfriends of the athletes. After a few minutes, you find yourself in a fun conversation with a woman you just met, who turns out to be Miya Atsumu’s girlfriend. You recall Atsumu as Sakusa’s teammate in MSBY. Discovering that you both work in tech startups, you bond over shared work ethics and struggles. After a while, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, feeling a bit lightheaded from the beer you consumed. You’re not great with alcohol but didn't realize how much you were drinking while chatting.

When you return to the main room, you hear Komori exclaim, "There you are!" with Sakusa standing beside him. You recall how Sakusa used to be extremely germaphobic, rarely taking his mask off in any place. You respect him but often show him some videos and journals about how human’s immune systems work. You’re sure some people show those kinds of things to him, too. As a result, now, he has managed to tone down his fear a bit and only wears a mask strictly in public places or outside buildings. Sakusa wears a plain black shirt tucked into black trousers. This is one of those moments that makes you painfully aware of how attractive he is, and he even seems so effortless about it.

You quickly dismiss your thoughts and greet them, “Hey!" Then you turn your head to Sakusa and ask, "When did you arrive?”

“Not too long ago,” he replies.

Komori chimes in, “I saw you earlier talking with ‘Tsumu’s girlfriend!”

You nod happily.

Komori asks, ��Anyway, how was your New Year holiday?”

You start chatting about your holiday until someone exclaims, “Hey, hey, hey!” Sakusa rolls his eyes. It’s Bokuto Kōtarō, his teammate. He pats Sakusa’s shoulder a few times, which doesn’t faze him, looking fed up with Bokuto's antics. Bokuto then greets Komori and you, recalling you as Sakusa’s bestie.

As it nears midnight, you decide to head home. You excuse yourself from the people you’ve been talking with and tell Komori you're leaving. You look for Sakusa but can’t find him. Just as you're about to order an online taxi, a hand pats your shoulder. It’s Sakusa.

“Oh, hey! I was looking for you!” you say, startled.

“Let me drive you home,” he offers. “I brought my car, and it’s already late.”

You ponder for a bit but then accept his offer.

Once you’re settled in the seat, he offers to connect your phone to his car's Bluetooth to play some music. You agree enthusiastically, always excited to recommend songs to him. He knows you're always excited too, and he often enjoys your recommendations, playing them frequently himself.

The drive is quiet but relaxing. Suddenly, he speaks up, “Do you remember our pact?”

You cough, surprised. You’re always like this, getting distracted and forgetting important things. Weren’t you stressed about this yesterday? You scold yourself mentally. Then, you nod and respond, “Yeah. I actually just remembered about it yesterday. I’m surprised you remember, Omi.” You laugh.

“Did you forget that I put it in the calendar?” he asks, his tone neutral.

You try to recall the memory of the day you made the pact with Sakusa. Ah! He did set a reminder for the pact on New Year’s Day. You giggle, feeling a mix of amusement and embarrassment.

“How— I mean, like, are you with anyone right now?” you ask tentatively, your voice betraying a hint of nervousness.

“No. Are you?” he replies, his gaze steady and calm.

You shake your head. “No.”

“Are you still up for it? The pact we made?” he asks, his voice steady but with a touch of curiosity.

You’re silent for a moment, pondering. You realize, if anything, you’re more ready than the last time you talked about this with him. The last two years have made it clear how tiring it is to build a relationship with someone. Work remains the same, and you're still juggling side jobs to make ends meet and send some money to your parents. The prodding from your parents has become more apparent too, suggesting dates with the sons of their acquaintances. You've tried to have a date with some of them. But nothing has gone beyond.

So you answer him, “I think I’m up for it. You?”

“Me too,” he says, giving you a quick glance that holds a mix of seriousness and reassurance.

You realize you’ve arrived at your apartment. “I think we need to talk about a lot of stuff regarding this. Do you want to talk about it? Like, tomorrow... maybe?” you suggest, trying to sound composed despite the whirlwind of thoughts in your mind.

“I agree. I’ll pick you up tomorrow,” he replies, his voice steady.

“Okay. Is 9 am okay with you? Or do you have practice?” you ask, wanting to make sure he’s not inconvenienced.

“No, I don’t and 9 am is okay,” he confirms.

With that, you get out of his car. You walk inside your apartment building, realizing that Sakusa is still on the driveway, looking at you. So, you smile and wave at him. As you fold your arms and tap your foot in the elevator, you can’t help but feel a bit antsy. You're really doing this. The anticipation and uncertainty swirl inside you, but there's also a sense of… excitement? You’re about to take a significant step, and the reality of it starts to sink in.

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laurfilijames · 1 year ago

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Like My Dreams

Part 2

Pete Dunham Masterlist

Intro Part 1

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+. Swearing. Alcohol consumption. Use of pain medication. Mentions of fighting/violence/hooliganism. Sexual tension/alluding to oral sex. Car accident resulting in a concussion, broken ribs, cuts/bruises. Mentions of stitches.

Summary: The days that followed meeting Pete consist of a blur of exciting moments of getting to know each other and growing feelings, and just when things start to really develop between you, a wrench is thrown in to disrupt it all but also drives home how precious life and love are.

A/N: Not much to say other than my love for Pete grows every day along with my drive to give him the justice he deserves! Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! This film has a very small fan base so I'd love to chat with anyone who enjoys it as much as I do 💗

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Pete Dunham.

The name turned over in your head again and again as he walked toward you, his limp less noticeable in his slightly cocky strut, and you nearly asked Fiona to pinch you in order to help you comprehend the reality of this.

Your eyes locked with his as soon as you noticed him, your surprise at seeing him there dressing your face, and you could easily see his own shock at you being Fiona's friend quickly morph into amusement.

"Well, look who we have here," he drawled. "I've either died and gone to heaven or someone is taking the piss."

You tilted your head, "Why would that be?"

"First of all, you show up in my class, and now you're standing in my pub. I already cheated death once, so I really can't figure out how else I'd be seeing you twice in one day."

"Is that a bad thing?"

He flashed you that same smile you had been picturing all day and shook his head slowly back and forth, "Oh, no."

"Good."

You could feel everyone else's eyes on you, watching the exchange between you and him, and yet all you could focus on were those blue eyes that seemed like they were staring into your soul.

"So this beautiful woman is both one of my student's aunts and Fiona's best mate?" he asked, to no one in particular.

You nodded, confirming his inquiries while chewing on your lower lip.

"Fuck me," he muttered under his breath, the simple but fully-charged words making you shiver.

"And you're not only the beloved Mr. Dunham, but also the infamous top bloke of the GSE?" you asked, finding your voice.

His eyebrows raised high on his forehead, "Have you been asking about me?"

"I might've been."

He let out a sort of growl and licked his lips, "Well then, I guess there's no use in denying any of it."

His hand was now outstretched between you, allowing you a better look of his long fingers than you had this morning, noticing the middle one was adorned with a gold ring, wild thoughts of how they might feel against your skin causing you to hesitate while he stood waiting for you to make contact in a handshake. You did so assuredly after taking a steadying breath to regain your composure, the confidence you seemed to radiate while being in his presence like nothing you had experienced before.

You gave him your name as your hands lingered, the tone of your voice holding onto something low and lusty, "It's nice to officially meet you, Pete."

The way you looked at him and the sound of his name falling off your tongue made him want to crash into you and kiss you right then, and although he was confident you would've welcomed it, he took a deep breath and willed his patience to come through.

Setting his empty glass on the bar, he declined another with the shake of his head when Terry offered a refill, turning his attention immediately back to you after disrupting it briefly. There weren't many times in Pete's life that he had turned down pints, and even if he hadn't taken a pain pill earlier, he still would refuse drinking another one, the thought of clouding this euphoria he felt in seeing you again something he wouldn't be able to forgive himself for. The high he was experiencing beat any scrap or victory by the Hammers, and he silently vowed to give it all up tomorrow and be sober as a judge if it meant living and breathing the same air as you.

The endless days spent alone in his hospital bed gave Pete more than enough time to assess his life and think about his future, something he never really paid any mind to aside from when the next match was and who him and the boys would be up against, but those lonely moments had brought on a harsh realization that maybe he was missing something. He often envied seeing families pass by his room with arms full of gifts and treats to help their loved ones feel better, his smile fading as he grasped the fact that no one other than his brother and his mates occasionally stopped by to check in on him and make sure he hadn't done a runner, but he was grateful he even had that. With their dad long passed away and their mum living too far to warrant frequent visits, Pete began to consider what it would be like to have someone else in his life who cared about him, someone who could fill the space in his heart that up until then had been occupied solely by football and all the senseless nonsense that came along with it.

Those curiosities only increased when he was dismissed and staying with Steve and Shannon, having watched them rekindle their love for each other carefully and tenderly; her decision to stay and make things work solidified when the second Dunham brother had found his life gripped tightly in Death's hands.

He had promised himself that he would make it all count now, not wanting to waste the time that was given to him, and after meeting you he knew he wasn't going to let anything good slip through his fingers.

"Can I take you out sometime?" he suddenly blurted, the question tumbling out of his mouth on its own accord.

The gorgeous smile that seemed like a permanent fixture on your face grew while his did the same, and he felt his heart hammer in his chest as a fury of nerves burst through him as he waited for your answer to his question that now seemed completely mental.

"Yes," you giggled, your disbelief clear by the shake of your head and raise of your eyebrows. "I would love that."

Pete let out a nervous laugh and ran his hand over his head, the rush of relief and excitement he felt making him almost dizzy as he glanced around at the humored faces of his mates standing around him.

"Sweet," he said, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he turned his focus back to you. "Is tonight too soon?"

Reluctant goodbye's were finally said after you exchanged phone numbers with Pete, having Fiona essentially drag you out of the pub behind her, finding you were unwilling and nearly unable to peel yourself away from Pete.

He was incredibly charming and sweet, and you struggled to push down the feeling in your stomach you were certain that you had never felt so intensely before.

Fiona sighed dramatically as the door of the pub slammed shut behind you, her exasperation only fuelling you to smile even more.

"You two!" she cursed, grabbing your arms and shaking you as you lifted your hands up to your face to cup your own cheeks as you began laughing.

"My cheeks hurt!"

"No bloody wonder," she said with the roll of her eyes. "You've been grinning like a loon all night!"

Fiona released her grip on you and began walking in the direction of her house, leaving you standing looking at the door, half tempted to go back inside.

"Don't you DARE make me regret this!" she hollered, prompting you to move your feet and follow her down the road.

You ran a few steps to catch up, linking your arm in hers to help you keep in time with her quick and determined pace.

"Oh, come on, Fi! Besides, we met each other first without anybody's assistance," you reminded her, thinking back to hours ago when Pete looked just as heavenly in the morning sun shining through his classroom windows as he did in the dim light of The Abbey.

"Swill is gutted," she said dramatically.

You tapped her arm with your hand, "Oh, stop! He is not! Nothing has even happened…" you trailed off, thinking of all the things that were hopefully going to happen.

"The church is booked and the cake is being made as we speak. Oh! And listen…" she paused, stopping in her tracks and putting her finger to her ear, "There's the wedding bells…"

A week had passed since meeting Pete, those seven days filled with a joy you couldn't recall having experienced to that extent, each moment spent with him blissful and ecstatically happy.

Pete had an exuberance about him that was truly infectious, reflecting onto you and anyone around him like a drug, his liveliness noticed by everyone.

You admired him now, watching as he laughed with Terry, sharing a joke that made his lips spread so wide on his face that his cheeks creased the way you had quickly discovered you loved.

Beer spilled over the side of the pint glass as he handed it to you, the warmth of his fingers contrasting to that of the beer as they brushed with yours, his blue eyes alight with the same vigor that showed in his smile.

"Cheers, babe," he winked, clinking his glass with yours hard enough it made even more beer splash off the top of it and down his hand, his eyes still fixed on you as he brought it up to his mouth and licked the mess off his skin with a broad sweep of his smooth and incredibly alluring tongue. It was like he knew everything you were thinking, the mischief in his eyes confirming that this move of his was a subtle tell of meaning more, and flashing you another playful wink, he glanced up to the screen with the match on, making your heart flip in your chest and leaving you aching to discover everything his mouth was capable of.

So far it had all been just like this; hanging out at The Abbey with him, the lads and Fi, slowly getting to know each other amidst the normalcy of the GSE's scheduled meet-ups, your heart growing its affection toward him the more you were in his presence.

"I'd love to go one day," you shouted, loud enough Pete would hear you over the busy crowd surrounding you.

Shock, and mostly amusement crossed his features, his eyes twinkling while his lips curled into an even bigger grin, the stretch making the cut on the lower one split open and start bleeding again.

"You've never been?"

"To a West Ham match? No!" you returned his smile, unable to help yourself. "My uncle is an Arsenal fan. I've been to one game in my whole life."

Pete looked at you with astoundment, an exaggerated expression that bordered on being genuine dressing his gorgeous face.

"Tell me you're not a Gooner…"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, ignoring the inquisition, unsure if being an Arsenal supporter out of default was worse than not paying attention to the sport hardly at all.

"He brought me once because I begged him! He was so nervous about taking me because it was too dangerous…thanks to hooligans like you!" You touched his arm flirtatiously, feeling his muscles flex while he watched you with an expression you couldn't place.

"One game?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your beer.

He licked his lips, increasing your ache for wanting to do that yourself, glancing up at the telly before back at you.

"Right, we're going Saturday."

"Really?"

"Really."

He held your gaze for a beat, making your heart feel like it stopped completely, and you dared to bring your hand up to his face, using your thumb to swipe away the blood that clung to the corner of his lip.

Pete hung his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side, the temptation he felt to kiss you making him feel antsy enough he had to take another long drink of his pint to distract from it.

Everything buzzed around you.

It was unclear if it was because you were with him, or it was just the enthusiasm of the stadium that had you feeling this way, but it felt like the most exciting thing you had ever been a part of as you walked down the concrete steps to the GSE's designated seats.

"Can I at least buy the beers after?" you asked, feeling slightly guilty in knowing how much these boys forked out for the seats.

Pete laughed heartily, "Fuck, no! You're my date! I refuse to let you pay for a single thing when this was all my idea."

He smiled at you before looking out onto the pitch proudly, allowing you another chance to admire him just as you did any other time the opportunity arose, his features something you swore could have been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

"Besides," he grinned, "It's Swill's turn to buy all the rounds after the game…"

"'S not!" Swill shouted, his scowl making Pete's grin shine even more, his pleased chuckle at riling up his mate mixing in with the noise of the crowd.

An argument broke out between Swill, Ike and Dave about who owed what in terms of beer and exactly how many rounds were left unsettled, leaving you and Pete to lose yourselves in each other, leaning in close to talk, the start of the match very unimportant as his hand rested on your thigh and his gaze lingered on your lips.

With the Hammers having won, everyone was in bright spirits, and you knew as you walked through the congested crowd with your hand entwined in Pete's that you would've felt the same even if they had lost, the charged glances he was continuously flashing sparking the growing need inside you to uncover all the pleasurable things that were possible.

The two of you lagged behind while the other boys walked on ahead in the direction of the pub, allowing softer moments shared without notice, Pete pausing in his confident strides to search your eyes with his vibrantly blue ones while his smile split his face.

"Did you have a good time?"

"I did," you assured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

"No dangerous hooligans to scare you off?" he teased.

"Not a single one…"

His laugh turned into a sort of growl as his own lip tucked in his teeth, his head turning in the direction of his mates before whipping back to you.

"You sure about that?"

You nodded. "I'm not scared, Pete…"

He was about to kiss you, leaning in to dip his face beside yours, until Swill's voice echoed through the tunnel and stopped him in his tracks.

"Oi! Fuck head! 'S your round, Pete, ya cunt!"

"Fucking Christ…" Pete muttered, pulling away from you reluctantly. "I may kill him one day."

You laughed, causing his frustration to grow into a chuckle, and he grabbed your hand and started walking again, nodding in the direction of the others with another beaming smile.

"Come on."

It had been three days since last seeing Pete, the amount that you missed him equalling the excitement you felt about seeing him tonight when you would go out on your first 'proper date' as he had called it.

Everything was up to him when it came to the plans, the only thing revealed to you so far that he was taking you to a lush Italian restaurant he had made reservations at, and that he was picking you up from Fiona's at seven.

Butterflies had made themselves busy in your stomach since the moment your alarm woke you up, and as you drove Jack to school now, they increased even more in knowing there was a small chance of seeing him outside as he went into work.

"Are you coming for tea tonight?" Jack asked, his hopeful voice making you feel guilty before even telling him no. "Mum's making that chicken dish you love so much."

"Ahh, of course she is! But sadly, I can't tonight, little lad," you gently explained, pulling up to a traffic light. "I'm actually going on a date…"

Your words trailed off as you glanced in the rearview mirror at him, waiting for his reaction, which came as you had expected in the form of a disgusted scowl.

"A date? Ew!"

You laughed as you looked back at the road, lifting your foot off the brake and onto the gas pedal to start accelerating as the light turned green, appreciating your nephew being in this stage where boys and girls still viewed each other as gross.

"Oh, come on!" you pleaded. "I think you'd like him…"

He scoffed and looked out the window as you peeked at him again briefly.

"Better be a West Ham supporter…" he muttered.

You bit your lip. "Oh, he is, don't worry!"

You debated telling him that his beloved teacher was your date, not wanting him to feel awkward or have it change his opinions on him, but sensing how well things were going between you, Jack was going to find out eventually anyway.

Opening your mouth to admit your little secret, your words were cut off as a car slammed into the side of yours, a gasp being forced out instead as all the wind was knocked out of your lungs, the sound dying in the deafening noise of metal crashing together and tires screeching on asphalt.

Your body was jostled violently, your head smacking hard against the window and then into the deployed airbag that felt like hitting a rock, hearing yourself desperately scream Jack's name before everything was dark and silent.

Consciousness returned to you briefly, your body overcome with pain as it slowly registered in your brain that struggled to comprehend what was happening, your head throbbing and feeling like it had been split in two.

All you could hear through the sound of a consistent, blaring horn was Jack crying, his sobs ringing in your ears in a piercing and terrified way that had you trying with all you had to turn around in your seat to get to him.

Sharp pain shot through your entire right side, making you black out again, the sound of your name being screamed in the petrified and pained howls of your nephew the last thing you could comprehend.

A nauseating grogginess filled you as you slowly opened your eyes, hearing the low hum of a machine and a soft, but incessant beeping that seemed to come from everywhere around you at once, the recollection of the accident barrelling to the forefront of your delayed mind as panic and worry threatened to make you ill.

"Hey, hey, you're alright," Pete's soothing voice greeted you, the worry in his blue eyes as he stood beside your bed outshining the look of comfort he was attempting to give you.

"Jack?" you croaked, looking at him desperately, immediately needing the answer to the question you couldn't even form.

"He's fine," he assured, his long fingers wrapping over your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Just a bit banged up and scared, but he's good as."

Pete smiled gingerly at you as your body sank back into the bed, hot tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, the relief you felt battling against the guilt and fault that filled you at having put your nephew in danger.

"'S alright…" he cooed, a pain filling his eyes at seeing you hurt and upset, his thumbs carefully moving up to your face to wipe away your tears that ran through the dry blood speckling your skin.

Your head tilted into his palm, embracing the closeness and warmth of him, feeling yourself calm slightly as he brought his forehead down to rest against yours, his exhale blowing on your lips that were wet from the stream of tears making you let out your own steadying breath.

Pete could barely stand it, the worry and heartache that grew to be ruthlessly persistent tearing through his entire body from the moment he found out about your accident, and even though he knew you were okay, it lingered with as much intensity that it had started out with.

All he could think about was how close he had come to getting everything he had dreamt of, only to have it almost be ripped away from him in a matter of seconds.

The lump in his throat threatened to give way as he sat there with you, hoping to convey everything he felt for you without actually saying it, reminding himself that you hadn't even officially established any sort of relationship.

"I'll go get Jack for you then, yeah?" he whispered, peeling himself away from you reluctantly. "He's been gunning to get in to see you."

You nodded and used your own hands to clear your tears this time, hoping you looked somewhat presentable given the circumstances and not banged up enough to scare him even more.

"Don't worry," he said with a smile, "he's already seen you through the window, refused to rest until he saw for himself that you were alright."

Pete stood from the chair that he had scooted to be as close to the bed as possible, that familiar, cheeky look appearing on his face as he added, "You're still gorgeous as ever. Plus, I think the cuts and bruises are sexy."

He winked at you before he turned and exited the room, leaving you alone for a moment that had you instantly wishing for him to be back with you.

A smile broke out on your face as you listened to them approach your room, their banter making you laugh despite it hurting to do so.

"Mate…you're mental if you think for a second that your bruises look harder than mine," Pete teased Jack.

"Nuh uh! Look at this one! And this cut needed ten stitches!" Jack bragged as he pointed to various wounds on his arms and face, his pridefulness in his injuries telling you he was truly okay.

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy," Pete jokingly waved off, opening the door to your room to let Jack burst through it at a run. He slowed when he reached you, reining in his excitement so he didn't hurt you, giving you a once-over as he tried to decide whether or not it was okay to hug you.

"Come here," you softly ordered, opening your arms to welcome his small frame.

He carefully brought his body against yours, his arms wrapping around your neck rather than your torso, burying his head into your neck where you kissed his hair and then ruffled it with your fingers, the gratitude you felt to be able to hold your sweet nephew making you choke up again.

Jack was crying too, his body moving with each sob, him answering every repeated apology that spilled out of your mouth with a squeaky 'it's okay'.

When he eventually pulled himself away from you, you looked at him with a smile, fixing his hair by brushing through it with your fingers.

"How cross is your mum with me?"

Jack laughed and shook his head, "She's not. She's been crying the whole time being so worried about you."

You nodded, knowing if you spoke that your words would come out shaky and weak, needing a moment to take in the battered face of the boy who had stolen your heart from the second he was born.

“You look like you've been scrapping with the GSE,” you complimented, watching him light up at the thought of it.

Exhaustion took over you quickly, the visit with Jack soon followed by your sister sucking what little energy you had right out of you, and once the doctor had been in to explain your injuries and their severity to you, you were completely drained.

A concussion and three cracked ribs were the worst of your wounds, the rest consisting of bumps and bruises amongst cuts that had appeared in your skin from shards of glass slicing through it, all adding up to result in you having to stay for at least another day for monitoring.

Pete came back into the room after the doctor had left, wanting to see you one more time before the last minutes of visiting hours had run up.

“How d’you feel?” he asked, taking his seat again in the chair beside you and leaning close, automatically reaching out to hold your hand.

“Tired. Sore. Overwhelmed,” you paused and looked at him seriously, “Like I was hit by a car.” You said it with a strained laugh, but it quickly died out into a sigh, the pain caused from it reminding you of what else was causing you grief. “Mostly disappointed…”

“Disappointed?” Pete echoed, his brows knitting together.

“Our date…”

He hummed, bringing your entwined hands up to his lips where he ran them over your knuckles back and forth.

“I was really looking forward to it,” you murmured, an overall sinking feeling coming over you.

“Me too,” he admitted. “But I promise you that I will make up for it a million times over once we’re able to.”

“I'll hold you to that, Mr. Dunham.”

He grinned at you confidently, shifting in his seat to sit back in it a little straighter.

“Speaking of…Jack had a lot of questions as to why I was here.”

You nodded, tucking your lip in your teeth as you looked down at your hand still being held in his. “He asked me, too.”

“So, Mr. Dunham is your boyfriend?” Jack asked with a twisted face.

“Not my boyfriend…but who I was going on the date with. We've been hanging out a bit.”

He was quiet for a minute, clearly processing the news.

"Look, Jack, if that makes you uncomfortable I don't have to see him, he's your teacher-"

“Are you gonna get married or summat?” he blurted, cutting you off.

You didn't know how to respond, your head pulsing with every thought that passed through it, the pain medication not helping you articulate things easily.

"I- no?"

Jack smiled, the awkward mix of baby and adult teeth on full display always making you love to see it more.

"I'd be okay with it."

Pete caught your smile as you recalled your earlier conversation, his own grin spreading out to crease his cheeks despite not knowing the reason behind yours.

“What's got you smiling like that?”

“Nothing,” you fibbed. “Just something Jack said. He's quite pleased about this.” You motioned between you and Pete with your finger, the morphine in your veins nearly making you bold enough to tell him exactly what was said.

Giving you a suspicious look, Pete was about to open his mouth and respond with what you knew would be something cheeky, only to be interrupted by a nurse knocking on the door and striding into the room on a mission.

“Visiting hours are up,” she announced, glaring at him before turning her attention back down to your chart.

Pete raised his eyebrows at her, but chose not to make any remarks, standing up with a sigh. “Right. I'll be back tomorrow then, yeah? Bust you out of here.”

He winked when the nurse shot her head up, clearly unimpressed by his intentions even if it was a joke.

“You don't have to-”

“Bollocks. Anything you need you just ring me, yeah?”

He dipped down close to you, his brilliantly coloured eyes searching your features with the same seriousness that showed in them earlier. “You sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you said, although with little surety. “Thank you, Pete.”

The look you gave him made him want to fight in order to be able to stay with you, the memories of his own experience of being stuck and alone and in pain in this same hospital striking a nerve in him, but he knew there was nothing he could do to get his way and accepted the defeat.

“‘Course, darling,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead where he let them linger. “Get some rest, eh. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Pete stepped into the hallway and rested his back against the door after it closed behind him, shutting his eyes and exhaling a deep breath. As much as he hated being back here, having to relive every horrible moment spent confined in the small walls of the room that had been his home for many excruciating months, he would return day after day for you until you were able to be released.

He zipped his jacket up to his chin and pushed off the door, preparing himself to brace the brisk, night air when he got outside, praying you would be well enough to go home tomorrow.

It terrified him a bit to feel as strongly for you as he already did, an anxiety he hadn't ever felt so intensely settling in his chest like a knot since he got the call from Fiona that you had been in an accident, but Pete knew that he would take this worry any day as a consequence of caring for someone this much.

Steve and even the lads would probably tell him he was rushing into things, to take it slow, but after today he refused to waste another minute of the second chance he was given not letting his heart have the things it had missed out on up until now.

The sliding doors opened and he passed through them into the fresh temperature, taking a deep breath to try to rid his lungs of that medicinal, stale hospital air, instantly feeling revived despite there being various people standing outside the entrance smoking.

His body felt achy and stiff, his limp ever-present as he began walking in the direction of his flat, becoming aware of how tense he had been all day, his stress coming to show with each step.

He had to smile though, thinking of how good it was going to be when he could finally take you on that date, a million ideas of how he could spoil you rushing through his mind.

His phone rang in his pocket, making him pause in his uneven steps to pull it out to quiet the chimey ringtone, answering a call from Swill.

"Aye, aye," he answered solemnly, his usual upbeat tone absent in his greeting.

"You coming for a pint?"

Pete winced, hesitating in his answer, contemplating how he felt.

"Nah, mate, I don't think so."

"Come on! It's Friday night, you wanker. You could use a beer after today."

Pete chuckled lightly, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'm just knackered, mate. Gonna call it a night and try to get back to the hospital at a decent time tomorrow."

"Yeah, alright. Fi said she's going first thing and hopes to bring her home."

"I bloody hope so," Pete said quietly and mostly to himself.

"You alright, Peg Leg?" Swill asked, a rare seriousness sounding in his voice.

"Brilliant…" he huffed. "Just a bit worried, yeah?" he admitted, kicking a stone with his pristinely white trainers before he continued walking.

"Rightly so, mate. We all see how you feel 'bout 'er, clear as day."

Pete smiled despite feeling on the verge of cracking, the pressure building behind his eyes becoming too much too suddenly that he rubbed them aggressively with his finger and thumb to try to wane it away.

"She'll be alright, Pete…" Swill filled the silence, having sensed the reason behind him being so quiet.

"Yeah, she will be."

"You know where we'll all be if you change your mind, eh?"

"Yeah, mate, thanks."

"See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, cheers."

Pete let his phone snap closed and tucked it back in his pocket, the heaviness of how precious and fleeting life was weighing on him, each uneven step reminding him of the near miss he'd had to never experiencing something like this and solidifying that he wasn't about to let a good thing slip through his fingers.

---

Part 3

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @theesirenteller @inbar-thomas1980 @lilac13

#pete dunham #green street hooligans #charlie hunnam #pete dunham x female reader #pete dunham x reader #green street hooligans fic #pete dunham fic #charlie hunnam characters

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builtbybrokenbells · 1 year ago

Text

Gold Dust Woman | x

Fear of vulnerability becomes obsolete as y/n manages to conquer it once more.

Read part nine here

Listen while reading: Black Magic Woman - Santana or Fleetwood Mac version

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.8k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), praise, dirty talk, shower sex, biting (slightly), touch of body worship, swearing, drinking, angst, long emotional talks, feelings of insecurity/inferiority, sorry if I miss any!

hello everyone!! posting this as a birthday gift to myself bc i finally managed to finish it!! thanks for participating in the poll and for all the lovely messages I’ve been receiving. I really hope you like this chapter and please feel free to share your thoughts in my inbox 🫶🏻 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!! (this is also v lightly edited, my apologies 😁)

Moonlight poured in through the large panel windows casting a luminous white glow over the entirety of the room. All other forms of light were off, leaving you relying only on the night to bless you with vision. Your Gold Top was sat in your lap, odd notes ringing through the air when you felt enough energy to pluck the strings. Your pedalboard was sat by your foot, allowing you easy access to it while you sat lazily facing the door in the only armchair the room offered. Your journal was sat atop the table next to you, open to a page of scribbles and various words, none making a bit of sense. Beside it, a crystal clear glass shimmered under the glow of the moon, housing your pick of poison for the night. The ice inside was causing drips of condensation to fall down on the wood below it, tempting you further the longer you looked at it.

You had one leg draped over the side of the chair as you sat on an angle, cradling your guitar in the other. All sense of creativity seemed to have gone, leaving you feeling like you were failing at your only talent. You kicked off the distortion pedal, sick of the same grungy tone you used so often. You strummed a few chords on the clean setting, cocking your head to the side as the sound filled your ears. “There it is,” you whispered, content with the sound and finally finding the motivation to play something worthwhile. You slid your fingers up the fretboard, landing midway between the body and the head. You closed your eyes, using only your memory to guide you. You plucked away at the intro, lowering your foot on the wah pedal just to add a touch of mystique to the sound.

“Got a black magic woman,

Got a black magic woman,

I’ve got a black magic woman

Got me so blind, I can’t see.” You echoed the tune like an anthem, finally feeling the defeat in your heart flowing away.

“That she’s a black magic woman,

She’s tryin’ to make the devil out of me.” You muted the strings, seeming like the song was put to a stop, only to jump in again with the next line.

“Don’t turn your back on me baby,

Don’t turn your back on me baby,

Yes, don’t turn your back on me, baby

Stop messing round with your tricks,

Don’t turn your back on me baby,

You might just pick up my magic sticks.” You let out a sigh of content, kicking on some light distortion and leading yourself into the solo with ease. You let your head fall back on the chair, eyes screwed shut in concentration as your fingers danced over the strings. As you finished, you let out a breath you had been holding for quite some time, feeling your head spin slightly. Of course, the alcohol was more to blame, but you were never willing to admit to your own intoxication.

You continued singing, the low pitched melody settling in your chest the way music should; filling any emptiness and replacing any discontent. You sang yourself through to the end of the song, taking in a breath so you could sing the last line.

“I need you so bad, magic woman, I can’t leave you alone.” The voice startled you, as did the flash of fluorescent hallway lights that flooded your room. You looked to the door, a laugh on your lips as you noticed the intruder.

“Sing it again, baby.” You said, leading him back into the last line for a moment of sweetness. He took a few steps towards you, a smile growing as he approached.

“I need you so bad, magic woman, I just can’t leave you alone.” He sang, slow and gentle, but impactful and with clear intent. You plucked the last few notes, letting the final one ring until it faded on its own. “Santana?” He asked.

“Y/n, actually.” You corrected, knowing that no interaction with Sam would be complete without at least a little bit of teasing. “And if you’re referring to the song, it’s Peter Green. Shouldn’t you know that, rockstar?”

“Sorry, slipped my mind.” He chuckled, looking around your room with curiosity.

“I’ll forgive and forget, just because you put on such a good show.” You said, leaning forward and switching off the power to your amp. “Minus a point for showing up without an invitation.”

“Your door was open. Thought that was enough of an invitation.” He raised an eyebrow, challenging you. You gave a shrug, placing your guitar back in its case.

“Got me there.” You conceded, both of you knowing that you were only joking with him anyway. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just thought I’d visit. Haven’t seen much of you lately. I miss you.” His transparency was haunting, mostly due to the reasoning behind your sudden absence. Your withdrawal had everything to do with his brother and the profound connection you had felt with him the night you had made your confession of love. Since then, you found it difficult to look Sam in the eye. Despite it feeling so right at the time, you held guilt for having to choose which brother to proclaim love to first. More than that, you felt guilt because it was not Sam who came out on top.

Although guilty, you did not hold any remorse or regret for what unfolded that night in your hotel room. You loved Jake, and you were incredibly relieved to have finally spoken it aloud. You had no desire to withdraw the confession, because it was the truth. But as you had learned, especially when it came to loving the brothers, the truth hurt and sometimes it hurt excruciatingly bad. You knew that you could love Jake and feel bad for shunning Sam all the same, and despite many beliefs, you absolutely can love two people at once. Not only were you struggling with the idea of opening your soul to Jake, you were also struggling with sadness at the thought of pushing Sam away when you so desperately wanted to do the same with him.

So, in short, you had found yourself in yet another cycle of self-punishment for the things that you could not control. You could not control the love you had for Jake, and you could not control the love you had for his brother. Instead of finding the courage to confess to Sam, too, you had locked yourself away in hopes that you would never have to face the harrowing truth of your own complicated emotions. “I miss you too, Sammy.” You replied, turning your head to watch as he took a seat on the edge of your bed.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He asked, his question loaded and his tone soft. How could you begin to explain without inviting him to ask all of the questions you did not want to answer? You reached for the whiskey glass calling to you, taking a sip of liquid courage before trying to conjure a response.

“So much to say, so little time.” You muttered, clasping the cold glass between both of your hands. The shock of the chill seemed to regulate your brain as it swirled with aimless thoughts and worries.

“I have all night.” He assured you. “Should I close the door?”

“You don’t want the world to know about our dirty laundry?” You smirked, sipping back more of the beverage in your hand. “I’m sure they’d get some good entertainment from it.” He let out a low chuckle as he stood to close the door of the room, locking out any intruders and locking in any confessions. There was nothing inside now but the sound of your sorrow, and the weight of the unspoken love that you couldn’t seem to fess up to. He returned to the bed, the moonlight cascading upon him like a cloak of protection. Unfortunately, not even the comfort of the moon could lessen the pain in your hearts. He could feel the weight of your troubled soul before he ever stepped foot inside the room, and the only thing he could hope was that it did not come from your desire to leave him.

“I saw you and Jake leave the bar that night.” He stated, his words echoing off the walls and striking you with every rebound. You chose to keep your chair pointed away from him in hopes that you could keep your composure. Everything always seemed infinitely harder when you were looking into his eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about your brother.” You said, tone flat and setting a firm boundary. “I want to talk about you.”

“The floor is yours, princess.” He said, inviting anything and everything more than what you were giving him, even if it turned volatile. You ran your fingers over the fabric of your jeans, racking your brain for the best way to begin the conversation.

“We’ve been doing this for a while now, Sam. I think it’s time that we start thinking about the future.” You explained, stomach sick at the thought of tomorrow. “I feel like I’ve been blindly trusting that time will make things easier, but it’s only made it harder. I’m starting to believe that this won’t end until it kills us.”

“Do you want to end this?” He asked, but aimed to keep his inquiry vague in hopes that he would not be met with a devastating response.

“It has to eventually, right?” You scoffed. “I mean, we can’t keep going through life when all we’re doing is hurting each other.”

“I don’t think we’ve only been hurting each other,” his rebuttal was soft. “It certainly hasn’t been easy, but I’m incredibly grateful for the time I get to spend with you.” His words warmed your heart, sending a rush of joy through you despite feeling like you did not deserve it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He assured you, wishing that you would turn around so he could see your face.

“I…” you had no idea what to ask first, previously believing that your instincts would guide you through the difficult conversation, but your instincts had never been kind to you before. After all, they were the exact reason you were in the situation you had been struggling with so much. “I need to know the truth. It’s time I asked you everything we’ve been running away from.”

“Whatever you want to know, baby.”

“All those months ago… did you ever notice me?”

“Notice you?” He wanted clarification, unsure of what exactly you were referring to.

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, trying to rid yourself from the crackle of fear in your voice. You needed to know, but you were unsure if you wanted to. “Before… before Jake. I want to know if you noticed me, or if you saw how much I noticed you.”

“Of course I did, y/n.” He defended, trying to comprehend the thought of you not knowing how much he cared.

“I just… fuck!” You exclaimed in no more than a whisper. You ran your hand through your hair, pulling at the strands in hopes that the proper words would come to you. You knew the longer you deliberated your questions, the more confusing they would become. “Then why did you never say anything! Why did you let me sit there and hope that you wanted me, too?”

“I… I don’t know.” He muttered, ashamed that he couldn’t give you a better answer.

“It’s time to know, Sam! Because I need to know, and if you can’t give me any reason to believe you’re not lying, I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I sat there every night praying that you would come and talk to me, or that maybe you would just look in my direction and notice how much I cared about you. You can’t tell me that you didn’t know I loved you, because it’s been painfully obvious since the minute I met you.” You stopped yourself to take another sip from your drink, hoping that the burn would distract you from your breaking heart, but it was just another shot to fill the void that only ever seemed to grow larger. “It only ever seemed like you wanted me when you were scared of someone else having me.”

“That’s not true,” he shook his head, horrified that you would ever think that. “I know I was stupid, and I wish I could make up for the mistakes I made, but I know that they’re always going to hurt you no matter what I do. I can’t take it away, even if I wanted to!”

“Jesus Christ, Sam. The door is closed, the lights are off, you can stop acting! I’m sick of the ‘I dont knows’ and the ‘I’m sorrys’. Why did I only ever exist to you when Jake came into the picture? I didn’t exist when other girls were hanging off your arm, or when there was someone better to talk to, so if your interest in me is more than just a pissing contest with your brother, I need to know!” You exploded, your chest feeling like it was going to explode. You wanted to turn around, to face him while you spat your accusations to at least see if he appeared guilty, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You knew the minute you saw him, nothing would matter anymore. It was the way your relationship worked; all other issues seemed obsolete when in his company. The beauty of him seemed to outshine any pain, and the comfort that surrounded him was always greater than any turmoil you could imagine. If you were going to get a confession, you would only have the power to do it as long as he wasn’t looking into your eyes.

“More than a pissing contest?” He reiterated your comment, baffled at the lack of understanding you had for him. “Is that what you think this is?”

“What else am I supposed to think, Sam?”

“You’re supposed to know how much you mean to me. You’re supposed to know that after three months of dates and playing house, you mean more to me than bragging rights!” His tone was strong, clearly bothered by your unwillingness to see him as he was. “I’m not falling in love with you for some ulterior motive. I’m not hurting over this because I think it’s fun to play with everyones feelings.” He said, the strain of emotion heavy on his shoulders. “I noticed you, y/n. You just didn’t care to see it, because you’re so fucking afraid of being in love that it changed the way you view the world.”

“That’s not fair,” you snapped, matching his temper with ease. Your fear of love was not an insult to be thrown, and you wanted to make that perfectly clear.

“It is fair, because it’s true. You asked, and I’m answering, so sit there and be quiet.” You wanted to fight back, but you were too stunned at the tone of voice he was speaking in. Sam had never been anything other than gentle with you, and it was shocking to hear anything close to anger in his words. “I noticed. I see you, y/n, even when you won’t let yourself believe that I do. I thought that I showed you over the last few months, but I’m okay with telling you, too. You don’t have to answer, or tell me if I’m right, because I already know that I am.” You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure of what he was getting at. You only had to be confused for a moment before he began again. “Right now, you have a ring on your middle finger. It only has one stone, and it’s a moonstone. It’s a little cloudy, and sometimes when the light hits it, it looks blue. I thought it was an opal, but when I asked, you told me it was a moonstone. I don’t really know what those are, and I had never heard of them before you told me, but I love them, because now they remind me of you. You wear that ring every day, y/n. I’ve never seen you without it.” You looked down at your hand, eyes drifting over your middle finger. You stomach churned with regret as the stone glistened in the pale light from the moon. He was right, and in your time of knowing him, you had never taken it off.

“You have a speckle of brown in your left eye. It’s right under your pupil, and you can only notice it when you look closely, because from far away it just blends in. When you smile, there’s two little dimples in the corners of your mouth. When you’re nervous, you play with your hair. You can’t play beer pong unless your partner is on your right, because you have this little superstition and you think it’s bad luck to play any other way. You’re always the last one to go to bed when we’re hanging out, and you claim it’s because you’re a night owl, but I know that it’s because you can’t sleep unless you make sure everybody else is taken care of. You hate beer. You’ve always been open about that, but it’s so bad that you won’t let us hug you if we’ve been drinking it because you can’t even stand the smell.”

He was right; every little thing he had listed was undeniably true, and the knowledge he collected extended far beyond the few weeks of intimacy you had shared.

“You love the moon, your biggest idol is Stevie Nicks, and you blush when you’re lying. You love to love people, but don’t know how to accept when people love you. You invite everyone to your house because you hate when it’s quiet, and cheap tequila makes you sick. You love the colour green so much that you thought about painting your entire house the same colour, and you think pizza is overrated.” He finished, feeling like he had made his point abundantly clear. “I know you, y/n, and I always have. You can be mad at the stupid decisions I’ve made, but you don’t get to say that I don’t notice you. I notice you so much that it’s hard to see anything else.”

“Why did you wait so long? If you cared so much, what were you so scared of?”

“Everything!” He exclaimed. “I was terrified, and I didn’t know how to get over that. I still don’t, but I’m trying.”

“Did Jake light that fire in you?”

“You lit that fire!” He stood, too passionate about the topic to remain staring at the back of your head. He placed his hand on the arm of your chair and spun it around so you could face him. “You said you didn’t want to talk about my brother, so why are you making it about him?”

“Because you made it seem like it was about him!” You snapped, looking up at him with fire in your eyes. “So you payed attention, but I didn’t catch your eye enough for you to make a move? You let someone else shoot their shot before you thought I was worth the energy! I was in love with you for years, and nobody else ever compared to you. If you asked, I would have given you the world. I would have killed myself just to keep you alive! You let girls flirt with you in my house while I sat there and waited for you like a fucking idiot!”

“What girls, y/n?” He was shouting now, both of you caught up in the moment and unwilling to back down. “What girls are you talking about, because I don’t seem to recall it the way you do!” You recoiled at the strength of his words. “The girls that I had conversations with, but barely ever remembered their names? Maybe had an arm around every now and then? I’m sorry if you perceived it differently, but I was not flirting with them, and not once did I ever take anyone home! If you wanted to, you would have realized that I was giving you the exact same treatment, and my brothers, too! I wasn’t flirting, and I wasn’t with a single girl after I met you. That is the truth, even if you don’t want to believe it!” Your stomach sank, the malice fleeing your body and guilt rolling in to replace it.

Your love for him had skewed your perception of the situation, and now that he was laying it all on the table, he was correct. Looking back on the past without the pessimism and confusion clouding your judgement, he had never once touched nor talked to another girl in the way he did with you in the recent weeks. Back then, when he had a moment of seclusion with you, he acted the very same way as he did with the girls at your parties. You never saw Sam leave with a girl in tow, and you had never found a girl scrambling from your spare bedroom early in the morning before anyone else was awake. He was breaking down your previous notions about your relationship and reconstructing them with pillars of truth. You were the master at overthinking, and the queen of oblivion. The memories seemed to flood back into your brain with more clarity than ever before.

“What are you doing sitting all by yourself?” The sweet tone broke you from any internal brooding, immediately reigning importance over any other thought of the night. You looked up from your drink, the boom of music from the speakers beside you not even loud enough to overtake the beautiful sound of his voice. Your eyes landed on Sam, who was smiling down at you with tipsiness engraved in his features.

“Waiting for you to come and talk to me,” you joked, but the truth underneath the surface was painfully obvious.

“Why wait? You could’ve came and found me.” He grinned, eyes glistening with joy at the thought of you wanting to talk to him.

“I like to be chased, not do the chasing.” You giggled, hoping he would pick up on your humour.

“If that’s the case, I’d be happy to chase you.” He took a seat beside you on the couch, not caring about intruding nor asking permission.

“You don’t have anything better to do?” You said, nervous at the closeness of his body. His leg was practically resting on yours, and you had to bargain with the idea that he chose to sit so close despite the entirely vacant couch.

“When it comes to you? Never.”

You thought you were going to be sick, the rush of blood from your head making you feel woozy and the thud of your heart against your ribs growing more aggressive by the second.

“Hey, you better not be playing beer pong without me!” A voice called from behind you as you walked by with two ping pong balls in hand. Your head snapped towards the source of the sound, gaze immediately landing upon the youngest Kiszka brother. He was standing next to a blonde who seemed enthralled in his every move, but he wasn’t looking at anything but you. “Thought we were partners for life?”

“Better hurry if you want to join.” You sing-songed as you continued walking towards the fold out table, knowing that he likely wouldn’t want to leave his conversation to accompany you. You didn’t make it a point to stare, but had you waited a second longer before turning away, you would have noticed Sam ditch his company without as much as a second glance.

You let your head fall back on the chair, feeling the scratch of tears in your throat and your heart begin to ache.

Slumped over in the kitchen chair, you let your head rest on the table in hopes that the cool wood would satiate the ache in your skull. You couldn’t even seem to find the energy to get up for a glass of water and an Advil. Even if you did, the painkillers wouldn’t take away the hurt in your heart. You had drank your way through the last of your liquor the previous night until it guided you to sleep. By the end of the bottle, you still hadn’t seemed to forget the sight of Sam laughing with the pretty brunette your coworker had brought to the party with her. All other memories? Well, they were obsolete. In comparison, even if you were able to remember the rest of the night, no memory would be nearly as daunting as the one of Sam smiling down at another girl.

“Good morning, sunshine.” The words accompanied footsteps, and had you not recognized the voice so well, you wouldn’t have bothered to look up.

“Morning, Sammy.” You squinted as your eyes tried to adjust to the brightness.

“Headache?” He asked, moving towards the cupboard on top of the fridge. He didn’t need to ask to know; you always had a headache when you were hungover, and you had nursed a bottle of cheap tequila until the bitter end. In truth, he was expecting to find you in a much worse state.

“Mhm,” you mustered the noise in lieu of a verbal response, hoping that it would be easier on your migraine. Sam closed the cabinet after retrieving what he intended to grab. He moved to the sink, filling a glass with water and setting it beside you. He took a seat in a chair, accompanying you in hopes that it might make you feel better. When you looked towards the two pills he sat on the table, you gave him a small smile of thanks. You took them, feeling better at the idea of relief alone.

“Where’s your company?” You asked, hoping to seem nonchalant with the comment. He furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of who you referring to.

“Right here?” He replied, motioning to you.

“No,” you chuckled. “The girl from last night. You two seemed to hit it off, thought maybe it would go somewhere.” He appeared to be racking his brain to recall the girl in question. After a moment, his eyes lit up with clarity.

“Oh, no. I don’t even think I caught her name. After I helped you out, I just went to bed.”

“Helped me out?” You questioned.

“You don’t remember?” You shook your head, anxiety creeping into your chest as you waited for him to elaborate. “You were pretty drunk, and you seemed upset, so I thought I’d check in on you. You were sick for a while, so I stayed with you until you felt good enough to go to sleep. Brought you upstairs to help you to bed, and we ended up talking for a while.”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You groaned “did I say anything stupid?”

“No,” he smiled, recalling the memory “it was nice, actually. I mean, you were upset and cried for a little while, but you wouldn’t tell me why. Once you calmed down, we laughed about it and you asked if I would stay until you fell asleep. Think we listened to the same record for an hour before you started to doze off.”

“Was it a good one at least?”

“It was a great one,” he nodded, but he only enjoyed it so much because you loved it, and if he had to admit, It was his new favourite album, mostly because you had fallen asleep in his arms to it. He decided to keep that memory to himself, locked away in the back of his mind for safe keeping. He didn’t want you to feel embarrassed about it, and he was too scared to admit that he enjoyed it.

“Thanks,” you felt your cheeks tinge red.

“My pleasure.” He assured you.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your chances with her. She seemed nice.” You felt the need to apologize despite your elation at the knowledge he had spent the remainder of his night with you. You wished you could remember what it felt like to be in seclusion with him, desperate to know what intimacy felt like at the hands of Sam Kiszka.

“Oh, no, no need to apologize. I’m always happy to help you out, y/n. Besides, I’m not looking for anything like that, anyway.” He said, reaching out to place a gentle hand on your arm to reassure you he meant what he said. Your stomach burned with desire for him, but your head was screaming at you to remember the picture of him laughing with the nameless girl. Instead of realizing that you were both feeling the same way about each other, you allowed yourself to hurt over the thought of him showing interest in another girl, when in reality his interest was only in you.

“Oh my god, Sam.” You put your head in your hands, desperate to rid yourself of the remorse that was eating you alive. The memories were endless, pouring in with no intent to slow. You had been foolish, equating your lack of intimacy with him to a lack of interest. He did care, and he cared more than you ever realized. You were so afraid of falling that you failed to understand that he had fallen just as hard, terrified of the same fate. “I’m so sorry.” You muttered, trying to control the wavering of your voice. Tears were stinging your eyes, the reality harrowing and the darkness of the night matching the feeling in your heart. He loved you the same as you loved him, but you were both too foolish to find enough courage to open your souls to each other.

“Do you get it now?” He attempted to mask his own hurt, but it was crystal clear. The weight of it was settled on both of you, making it impossible to think of anything else. “I cared, y/n, but you never wanted to see it. You didn’t know how to let me care about you, so you convinced yourself that I didn’t. We were both scared, and we both made mistakes. Don’t paint me as the devil when you were doing just the same.” He took a seat again, defeated from his own confession. “I haven’t been pointing fingers at you for falling for Jake, and I feel like that is just as criminal as anything I’ve done.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because I’m terrified! I always have been, and you never said anything either, so I had myself convinced that I was imagining something that wasn’t really there!” He said, looking up to meet your eyes. His sin was heavy in his gaze, as was yours. “I hurt the only person I’ve ever fallen in love with, and the world hasn’t forgiven me since. I haven’t even forgiven me.”

“Talk to me, Sammy.” You held his stare, eyes burning into his soul. “Tell me, so I can understand.” He debated the choice, knowing that if he opened up to you, you would see every part of him, good and bad. If he didn’t, he would lose you indefinitely, and there would only be him to blame for letting you walk out the door. After a moment of silence, he took a breath before divulging into the story he’d tried so hard to bury forever.

“It’s strange, you know. It feels like we’ve been cursed for life, and I’m not sure what we ever did to deserve it.” He started, the first blow striking the wall in hopes of breaking it down. “No matter how hard we avoid it, Jake and I always seem to find ourselves in the same situation. Every single girl I’ve ever fallen for has fallen for him, too, and vice versa. It’s horrible knowing that no matter what, we only ever get to enjoy love for a moment. When we were younger, I think we were stupid and cocky. We saw it as a game, which is horrible.” You nodded along, hoping to encourage him to keep talking. “When we went on tour for the first time, it was so surreal. I mean, we were still kids, y/n, barely grown and travelling the world.” He laughed at the memory, finding it mind blowing to recall.

“We snuck into a bar one night. Well, Danny and I did. Jake and Josh were barely old enough to get in, and we managed to scrape by. Turns out, the bar wasn’t very hard to get into, because it looked like it was crawling with high school students.” He found another chuckle amidst the pain of honesty. “I met a girl about a year or two older than me. She was fantastic, and we ended up talking all night. So much that when they were closing up the place, they had to kick us out. We texted back and fourth, got to know each other, and then seemed to be on the phone constantly. Eventually, we got fed up and she flew out to travel with us for a little while. Things were really good, and she took breaks from travelling with us to go home for a while. When a situation is good, it gets comfortable, and when you’re that young and your life is all over the place like mine was, comfortable is the same as boring in your mind.”

“I got drunk and hooked up with another girl while she was travelling with me. It was my fault, and I’ll never try and say otherwise. I hurt her, and I still feel guilty about it. She was the first person I fell in love with, even if I was young and didn’t really know what love meant. After we fought, she ended up in Jake’s bed. It killed me, even if I did deserve it. Jake and I fought like never before, and I don’t think we ever really recovered from it. Since then, I guess we always let the pattern repeat instead of putting an end to it. I think we both feel like there’s no point in trying to avoid it, because it’s inevitable anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Sam.” Even though you knew the story, it seemed to hit so much harder when you could see the emotion in his face.

“I don’t want sympathy, y/n. I deserved what I got, and I know that. Pain doesn’t make someone innocent.” You nodded, understanding completely what he was saying. “When I fell for you, I fell so fast and hard that it nearly shattered my soul. I was scared because of how much I cared about you, but I was even more scared that he would steal you away. It’s not a good excuse, and it never has been, but it’s the truth. I thought if I kept how I felt hidden, I could enjoy you more, because then I wouldn’t have to watch you fall in love with Jake. I could see he felt the same way for you that I did. It may not have been obvious to everyone, but it was to me. I didn’t want to compete for you, but it looks like we ended up here, anyway.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling disgusted at how the predicament continued to repeat itself.

“So yeah, when Jake made a move on you it certainly made me realize how much I could lose, but I didn’t pursue you solely because I didn’t want him to have you. That would be disgusting, and I might not be perfect, but I would never put you through that.”

“I wish… I wish we could have said something sooner. It would have made everything so much easier.” You whispered, aching to reach out and touch him. He looked up from the floor, eyes settling on your face as a sad smile crossed his lips.

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Jake wouldn’t have let you go without a fight, and I don’t blame him. You’re worth all of the pain, and I’d go through it a million times if it meant I could be with you, even just for a little while.” He said, holding your gaze. “I fell in love with that girl, and I fucked it up. Y/n, how I feel for you is far beyond anything I have ever felt for her. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much, but I do. I love you, but I am terrified of hurting you. I learned lessons that sucked, and I know I would never do that to you, but it scares me to know that I have the power to cause you any type of pain. The only thing I have ever wanted to do is love you, and no matter if it’s forever or only for a little while, I’m still beyond grateful that I got the chance.”

“You mean it?” Your words were barely loud enough to break through the silence, but he heard you. No matter where you were in the world, or how much distance between you, Sam would move heaven and earth to ensure someone was there to listen to you. Your voice was his favourite melody, the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. He was certain that he would never hear anything that compared, and he would certainly never search for it. He adored you, and he did not care solely because he wanted to stop Jake from having you. He cared because he did; there was no personal gain nor any hidden benefit. He loved you completely, and he loved you for you. The suffering, the heartache, and even the fear of losing was not enough to deter him from loving you, because it was the best thing he had ever experienced.

“I’ve never meant anything more in my entire life.” He refrained from reaching out to you, wondering if you would make the first move. He thought he had pushed you far enough with his words, and he didn’t want to scare you away. “I love you, y/n. Always have, and I always will. I will love you until you don’t want me to anymore, and I’ll keep loving you long after that, even if I have to keep it to myself.”

“I love you, Sam. I fell in love with you long before this started.” You breathed, feeling the weight of the world being lifted off your chest. It felt just as good to be honest with him as it did with Jake, but you had not laid the full truth on the table. “But I love him, too.”

“I know.” He said, unable to be upset at you for your honesty. “I just hope that in the end, you realize you love me a little bit more.” You gave him a sad smile, the sullen reply ripping your heart straight from your chest. “I know you can’t control what your heart wants, but I’ll keep my fingers crossed. If not, I’ll be happy as long as you are.” You were furious with yourself for not being able to end the suffering. Your greed was affecting everyone around you, and you couldn’t seem to find the courage to put a stop to it. You had so much history with Sam, and it seemed like the most logical option to be with him, especially considering your years of feelings for him. But logic had never been your friend, and it was a stranger when it came to the brothers. As much as you wanted to fall into Sam’s arms and be with him, you felt like you were stuck to the ground. You were not ready for that choice, and if you were to act impulsively, you couldn’t ensure you wouldn’t double back on your decision.

Worst, of all, you couldn’t stomach the thought of hurting Jake in that way. The conversation with Sam, the profession of love and all of the understanding was simple. So simple that it seemed too good to be true. The clarity you had gained from your discussion was incredible, and it seemed so much easier to confess your love to Sam. The fiery and emotional nature of your confession to Jake made your head spin when you thought about it for too long, and it was all but simple to talk about your feelings with him. But, you had come to learn that intimacy was not supposed to be easy, and by defaulting to loving Sam due to a lack of hardship was not fair to either boy. If you were to decide to love Sam based on simplicities, it would do nothing but make you a coward who could not find the gall to do hard things.

You sipped on your drink, desperate to find something to put your mind to rest. You both sat in silence, looking away from each other in hopes that the other would speak first. “Do you think that there’s another universe where we get to love each other more?” You finally broke the silence, looking up at him with a glimmer of hope in your eye.

“It’s impossible, because in every universe, I love you the same.” He gave you a sad smile. “Maybe there’s one where we can love each other easily.”

“I’d like to know what that one is like.” You felt tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. “I bet it would be fantastic.” He gave a shrug, feeling a stab to his chest at the sight of the tears overflowing from your eyes.

“This one is too, princess. Loving you is fantastic, even if it’s not perfect.” You closed your eyes, feeling a sob fall from your lips. You wished you could go back in time and stop yourself from falling into the trap, to understand that despite your confidence, the situation was bound to be disastrous. But, at the same time, even if it was painful, loving them had been the most fun you had in your entire life. No matter which boy you picked, or even if you picked neither, you did not regret the time you spent with them. Going back and avoiding your mistakes may have saved you some hurt in the future, but it would have never taught you the lessons you needed to learn.

In your time spent with them, you learned that it was okay to open your heart enough to make room for another. You could finally realize that vulnerability was not the enemy, and intimacy was not as terrifying as you had previously thought. In fact, it was incredibly enjoyable when shared with the right person. You learned that you had the ability to love, and what it meant to love another wholly and completely. Better yet, you were shown that you could be loved, which was something you had never felt before in your entire life. You had always taken the stance of keeping people out for two reasons; the damage they could cause, and the damage they would find. By doing so, you failed to realize that people could introduce a lot more into your life than just pain, and your demons were not as threatening with two people standing guard. You did not regret the decision to love both brothers, even though you knew that the future was not as bright as the beginning. You were thankful to finally know what it felt like to be loved by another, and that they made your realize that you deserve to be loved just as much as anyone else.

“I think that I’m going to need some time to think about all of this.” You said, wiping your cheeks clean from the sadness. “Maybe take a step back, just to straighten out my head.”

“As long as I leave here tonight knowing that you know how much I care about, you can take as much time as you need. I just need to know that you understand, and I’ll wait forever for you if I have to.” He was tempted to hold you, to take the initiative and wipe the tears from your face in hopes of washing the pain away, too. It was hard to resist, but he wanted you to decide if you wanted it or not. He was not going to be the person to push you to love him, because in reality, it would do nothing but push you away.

“Can we… tomorrow?” You asked, not feeling like shutting him out immediately after such confessions. “I don’t want to be responsible, yet. I just want to enjoy this for a little while longer. I’m going to take some time, but I’ll start in the morning.”

“Are you sure?” He wanted clarification before jumping to action, needing to know that you were certain about your decision.

“We said I love you, Sam.” You managed a small laugh through the turmoil that was still ravaging your brain. “I think we’re allowed one night to enjoy it before we have to make any hard decisions.” He watched you for a moment, giving you ample opportunity to change your mind. When you showed no signs of regressing, he jumped from the bed with a new found burst of life. You barely had time to comprehend his sudden move before he was in front of you, reaching down and scooping you into his arms.

Despite the pain that was still thick in the air, you both found yourselves in a shriek of laughter. You wrapped your legs around him, cradling his face in your hands as he made sure you were secure in his grip. “Say it again.” His grin was blinding, making it hard to believe that there were tears in his eyes only moments before. “Please.”

“I love you, Sammy.” He let the words linger, revelling in the bliss before he pulled you into a kiss. It was messy, a show of desperation for each other after being deprived of it all night. It was the perfect show of the truth behind the saying ‘sometimes you don’t know what you’re missing until you’ve come across it’. You had lived your whole life without ever feeling love, romantic or otherwise, and now you were so full of it that you weren’t sure you could ever live without it. You had been so afraid of something that felt so good, even within its own repercussions. You knew you would even miss the bad that came along with it if you were ever deprived of love again.

“I love you,” he mumbled, barely taking the time to part from the kiss. “I love you,” he said again, his smile growing every time he spoke. “I love you so much, y/n.” You thought you would be able to live off the euphoria of being loved by him forever. You leaned forward for another kiss, laughing as you did so. The moment of childish glee was beautiful, especially after the weight of the conversation. It did not take long for the passion from the moment to manifest itself into something larger, neediness increasingly radiating from both of you the longer you had access to each other.

He carefully stepped backwards, lowering himself onto the mattress and gently settling you in his lap. When you were situated, you broke away for air. He took advantage of the opportunity and made a move to slip your shirt over your head. The sting of the air on your skin was a shock, but when his hands came back to you, you forgot the feeling almost instantly. As he brought his mouth back to your own, his fingers unhooked your bra. You dropped your arms from around his neck and let it fall to the floor with little care. He let his lips drift down your neck, gracing you with delicacy and adoration in the small movements. You let out a shaky breath as he worked his way downwards, pulling your nipple into his mouth to continue his physical show of love.

“God, Sam.” You breathed, the moment of physical intimacy amplifying the emotional intimacy you had divulged in. The feeling of his tongue on your skin was intoxicating, his touch similar to that of a wicked entity. The only thing that reminded you that it truly was Sam behind your pleasure was the familiarity of his hands and the weight of your adoration for him. You despised that both brothers seemed to make you into a fool for them with ease, like it was not a struggle for them to hold complete power over you with a single glance. Their power had only grown stronger over the months, and it could only be accredited to you falling victim to love. It was almost funny, how you claimed harm at their hands, but seemed to be holding the gun and prompting the pull of the trigger.

Your hips moved down on him, desperate for any type of friction to relieve the growing ache between your legs. One of his hands dropped downwards, settling on your ass and holding you to him, his own need showing through the small action. You let out a hiss of pleasure as he gently sunk his teeth into your nipple, the surprise of his action adding to the sensation. He broke away from you, looking up at you with lust heavily clouding his gaze. You were both long overdue for more, and weren’t willing to wait any longer. You shuffled to your feet, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them off in one swift motion. He let his eyes drift over your exposed skin, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to comprehend your beauty. He was practically feral at the sight, crazed at the thought of being able to see you in such a way, but he held himself back in hopes that you could make the night last as long as possible.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, catching your eye as he spewed out the compliment. You felt your cheeks heat red, a smile pulling on the corner of your lips as the words struck you like lightning. A compliment from Sam was worth the world and more, and you knew you could live off them for the rest of your life.

Everything about the brothers was so phenomenal that it made it hard to believe that they were real; you could not comprehend perfection taking form in a human body, but somehow the universe had managed it twice. You wanted to love them forever, to never know what it was like to be deprived of them, but you knew it was not plausible. It was time for you to grow up, to put a stop to the immature behaviour and finally begin to think first, rather than act. You had let the devil lead the way for far too long, and it was finally time to take back the power that you had willingly given away. The only way to stop the hurt was to stop the entanglement, and even if the idea of losing one or both of them hurt so badly, the decision was long overdue.

Then again, you would not be a Gold Dust Woman if not for your tendency to destroy yourself at the hands of your own desires. In true Gold fashion, you allowed the night to continue on even with the knowledge it would do nothing but make the choice even more difficult.

He stood, slipping his own shirt over his head. You felt the same skip in your heartbeat, the sight immediately taking your breath away. He noticed your reaction, unable to stop the smile from creeping onto his face. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you replied, hoping that he couldn’t sense the nervousness in your tone. Somehow even after months, he still seemed to make you nervous when in his presence. He took a step towards you, cupping your cheek in his hand as he pulled you in for another kiss. It was like an addiction for him, almost impossible to resist. “Shower?” You mumbled against his lips, the idea enticing him almost as much as it did for you.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He asked, barely parted from you. You let out a giggle, walking away in the direction of the bathroom. He followed closely, not willing to let you get too far away.

You flicked the light on, immediately reaching into the shower and turning on the faucet. Within a few seconds, steam had already began accumulating in the air. Instead of waiting for you to get in, Sam’s hands slipped around your waist. You smiled at the familiar feeling, wishing you could exist within his touch until the end of time. Something about his hands on you gave you the relief you’d been so deeply craving, and not in a sexual sense. The gentleness always eluded to a future without suffering, and even if the momentary touch was the only time you felt that way, it was nice to finally have some peace amidst the chaos.

He pulled you into him, limiting you from stepping into the shower. You wanted to complain, to voice your excitement for the soothing warmth of the water, but being in his arms always triumphed. He leaned down, letting his lips drift over your shoulders and any exposed part of your neck. Your eyes closed, melting into him and willing to accept whatever he had in store for you. With great care, he guided you towards the countertop until your back gently connected with it. The cold shocked you, searing your skin with the unfamiliar temperature, but you didn’t have time to think much about it. Sam had firmly grabbed your hips, lifting you up and setting you down in one swift motion. He moved forward, settling between your legs so easily, like he belonged there without question.

He brought his lips back to your own, but only for a moment. He worked his way down your neck, to your shoulders and down your chest. Slowly, he sunk to his knees before you with his head nestled comfortably between your thighs. You bit down on your lip, silencing the gasp that you so badly wanted to let out. Your heart was racing, overly excited for what was to come next. His fingers were branding his name into you forever. You knew that when the sun rose in the sky, and you took your inevitable step away, your body would still be littered with Sam. It would be so overwhelmingly obvious that distance would not even begin to diminish the strength in which you needed him. In a moment of weakness and fear of the aching loneliness that was to come, you almost jumped into his arms forever. After the moment passed, you knew you could not discard Jake so easily, especially after the raw intimacy you had shared with him.

When Sam’s mouth connected with your cunt, rationality was no longer the leading thought in your head. Although the devil continued to push you further into Sam’s arm, another one was holding you tightly, pleading with you to stop. At first glance, it seemed to want to protect you from the downfall you were headed towards by allowing Sam access to you while feeling such turmoil. Then again, it would not be the devil if it had no ill intent, and it was not holding you back in fear of soothing broken hearts. The part of you leaning away from Sam was leaning directly into Jake, serially motivated by the desire you had for him and your fear of letting him go. As much as you wanted to fall in love with Sam forever, it was just not possible at the moment. As much as you craved to be with Jake, the time was not right. Which was exactly why time is what you needed, spent away from them and their ability to captivate you. The closer you were with them, the harder it was to resist the love they gave to you. Pain was guaranteed either way, but you had to chose the option that you believed would hurt the least.

But only after one more bad decision, of course.

“Fuck,” you panted, chest burning from the lack of air in your lungs. Sam was working hard, determined to prove a point with his tongue. You weren’t certain exactly what he was trying to prove, but he was doing it well. The steam in the air was thick, melt from the shower but some purely from the energy between you both. Your hand was in his hair, gripping at the roots and holding him to you. He hummed against you, pleased with your enjoyment. It seemed the more disheveled you became, the harder he worked to make it worse. “G-god, Sam. Please don’t stop.” You whined as your head fell backwards. Your eyes were squeezed shut, the burning in your belly almost unbearable.

He used his hands on your hips to pull you closer to the edge, tongue never faltering as he did so. He dropped his arm from the hold he had on you and added his fingers to you, slowly pumping them as he moved his mouth upwards to focus on your clit. The moans you were expelling were vulgar, painting the walls with every sin you already had, and continued to commit. You were so lost in pleasure that any thoughts of right and wrong had disintegrated into nothing. Everything was Sam; you felt like you were being consumed by him, his aura so powerful that you were crumbling into nothing. Dying would be an honour if it were at his hands, and you knew that the descent would be nothing but comfortable as long as you could feel his touch until the bitter end. “Sam,” you repeated, unsure if you could hold back your orgasm any longer. He curled his fingers upwards as he pumped them into you, a small encouragement for you to let go.

With the slight change in angle and the relentless speed of his tongue, your legs began to shake. Your muscled tensed, and you felt yourself clench against his fingers. With only last warning, so weak that it barely sounded over the putter of water against the shower floor, your climax washed over you. Your chest ached from the intensity, limbs begging you to relax, but you couldn’t seem to slow the ferocity of the moment. Your head was spinning, filling with thoughts of nothing but the boy between your legs. You were so filled with love for him that you thought your heart may explode. As you came down, sweat glistening on your skin and the pleasure settling into a dull tingle across your body, you finally managed to get a full breath into your lungs. As you did, Sam slowly tapered his pace to a stop, moving away from you to catch his own breath.

You released your hold on his hair, an apologetic look crossing your face for the strength in which you were holding it. He seemed unbothered at the action, eyes still closed in bliss as he ghosted kisses over your thighs. You let your hand fall to his cheek, appreciating him as he showed you the act of kindness. “Shower?” You asked, voice still airy from the intoxication of the orgasm. He let out a hum, too enthralled in you to care about a verbal answer. You managed a small giggle at his enamouring expression, but ultimately had to put a stop to his admiration. “We’ve wasted enough water, come on.” You said, ushering him to stand. He obliged, although not voluntarily. He helped you off the counter, pulling you into him for a moment as he placed a kiss on your head.

“You first,” he promoted, moving out of your way. You slid the glass door open, stepping under the droplets and immediately feeling the relaxing warmth. He followed suit, closing the door behind him. As you sat under the stream of water, he took the opportunity to have the moment of closeness he had been craving so badly. He wrapped his arms around you, hands settling on your lower stomach as he guided you into him. With your back against his chest and his hands on you, you felt unstoppable. The warm water alongside the memory of the orgasm only solidified the feeling. Sam made you feel like you were on top of the world, like nothing could ever hurt you. His love was like a cushion of protection, keeping you away from any harm as long as he was with you.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” You said, leaning your head back to rest on him, too.

“We can, princess.” He reminded, the small seed of evil planting in your brain effortlessly. He would do whatever it took to keep you in his arms, and if it meant persuading, he was already thinking of a million reason as to why you should stay. “If that’s what you want, we can do that.”

“I know, and I do.” You said, but you didn’t have to finish the statement. He wasn’t ready to face any type of rejection, and you were not willing to dish it out. His hope, although blind by times, was the only thing giving him the will to keep going. “I love you.” You changed topics, hoping the blow would lessen by the sweet phrase. You wished you didn’t already have to use it as an apology, but being apologetic had been the only thing you knew how to do as of recent. You were always sorry for the pain you were inflicting, even if they knew that it was coming. You wondered why it was so common to hurt the ones you love the most, and if it was uncommon, why it was so simple for the three of you to do.

“I know, and I love you, too.” He leaned down, pressing his lips to your cheek. It was beautiful, how much he cared despite knowing how bad it hurt him. You turned your head to meet his mouth, the confession still hitting as hard as it did the first time. You could feel his erection against you; he was desperate for relief even if he was enjoying the sweetness of the moment. You pushed your hips back on him, also eager for the main event after such an emotional night. His grip tightened, enticed by the small movement. The kiss grew messy, both of you at a breaking point long before you ever got into the shower.

He spun you, pushing you against the wall with a new-found energy. Your upper half was flush with the cool tile, and he pulled your hips back to grant himself access to you. He lined himself up with your entrance, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he pushed his own forward. You both let out a sigh of relief at the feeling, knowing that there were few things in the world that felt as good as it did. “God, you feel so fucking good.” He muttered, closing his eyes to focus only on the way you felt wrapped around him. The heat of the water only amplified every sensation, the steam filling your senses and your brains with the obscene energy that it had leeched from you both. You were feral for each other, uncaring of anything other than the sexual desire between you. The encounter was no longer a solidification of the vulnerability you had shared, but now a need that far outweighed any other that had previously existed.

Sam surpassed any normal person in terms of desire, and quickly manifested himself as one of the most important things to ever exist to you. The thought of being without him was excruciating, and the only thought worse than ones of death. “Harder, please.” You groaned, hands supporting yourself on the wall as he fucked into you. He obliged to the request with little hesitation, pulling you back on him as he thrusted forward. He snaked one hand to your hair, knotting it in his fist and pulling your head away from the wall. He leaned forward, letting his lips rest on your ear as he placed a small kiss to it.

“Does that feel good, princess?” He crooned, voice low and settling straight into your soul. You let out a moan, unable to verbally express the pleasure he was giving you. His grip in your hair tightened, snapping you back to reality for a moment.

“F-feels so good, Sammy.” You muttered, feeling another groan tear through your chest. He hummed against your ear, letting his teeth sink into your earlobe to show his enjoyment of the sounds you were making for him.

“Just want to make you feel good, baby.” His tone was husky, coated with lust and showcasing his desire. He turned your head to the side, just enough so he could capture you in a kiss. He continued moving his hips, never slowing his pace. You let a moan slip into his mouth, driving him further into the cloud of euphoria that was slowly engulfing him. He slipped his hand from your hip, wrapping it around you and settling his fingers between your legs. He began tracing slow circles on your already sensitive clit, making the feeling of every movement even more powerful. You pushed your hips back on him, not ashamed to show him your need for him. A growl came from deep in his chest as he parted from you, the small movement sending him into a frenzy.

He dropped his hand from your hair and used it to hold your hips in place as he began his frenzied attempt to drive you to an orgasm. He didn’t need to try very hard; the knot in your stomach was tightening with every second that passed. “Fuck,” you whined, the fire consuming every nerve in your body.

“Come on, sweet girl.” He encouraged. “Cum for me, baby.” His words hit you hard, the impact nearly stealing the air from your lungs and making your legs grow limp. His hands were holding you steady, making sure you were secure so you didn’t have to worry about anything but your pleasure. You let out another moan, desperation evident in the sound. He continued his relentless effort, moving his fingers faster and with more precision.

“Sam,” you breathed, feeling the pressure reach a peak. Your body tensed as your breath caught in your throat. You tried repeating his name, but it was a useless endeavour. No coherent thoughts were forming, and the only thing coming from your mouth was a slur of curses and moans. Your legs were shaking, weak as they struggled to hold your weight and your heart was erratic against your rib cage.

“That’s it, beautiful.” He coaxed you through, slowly tapering his pace. When your body relaxed and you gained strength to keep yourself upright, he slowed to a stop. “How was that?”

“S-so good,” you stuttered, heaving a heavy breath. He let out a chuckle, amused by your disarray as he pulled out of you. You managed a small groan of discontent at the loss of the feeling, but he ignored you. He gently spun you around so you were facing him, leaning in for a kiss. The gentle action was greatly appreciated; your body was still recovering from the excitement of the moment. His hands planted on your hips once more, but this time he lifted you. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him as your hands snaked around his neck. He pressed your back against the tile, the cold surface a shock, but you were too tired to care. He pressed his lips to yours once more as he lined himself up once again. When he was certain his grip on you was secure enough, he pulled you down on him. You lacked any self control, the feeling euphoric and the sound that came out of you matched the sensation.

“How’s that, Princess?” He hummed, resting his forehead on your own for a heightened sense of intimacy. “Is that better?”

“Mhm,” you nodded against him, tangling your fingers in his hair. You wanted to be as close to him as possible, but the barrier of your bodies was prohibiting what you needed to satisfy the desire. You felt like his being was too powerful; it was consuming you and leaving behind a shell of what you once were. Sometimes, especially in moments like the one you were sharing with him then, it felt like your sole purpose was to love Sam, or to be loved by him, but truth behind the thought was almost too much to bear. There was a part of you devoted to Sam, wanting nothing but to love him for the rest of time, but there was another part that felt the same about Jake. It was horrendous knowing that you could never love one fully without loving the other.

“Give me one more, baby.” He pleaded, fingers bruising the skin as he continued to pull your hips down on him. The request was simple to fulfill, and you knew that it would not take much for him to get what he wanted.

“If you cum with me,” you placed down your own term before an agreement.

“That’s what you want?” He questioned, trying to make it seem like your words did not bother him. In truth, he was struggling to hold himself back and your statement had only driven him closer to the edge.

“God, yes. Please, baby.” You whined, knowing that the longer he was inside you, the closer you were being pushed to insanity. He let out a low sigh, sent into a downward spiral at the sound of your desperation. He hoped he could hold off for long enough to make you cum, and you were hoping to hold off for long enough to please him. You were both hoping for something that meant nothing; the pleasure that was upon you both was too good to refute, and a climax was easier to attain than anything else.

Your mind was abuzz with the love you had for him, the intensity growing with the steady movement of his thrusts. You were delirious, body exhausted from the continuous pleasure and muscles aching from the strain. The water soothed only enough to keep you going, but Sam’s hands were what made you feel best. “I love you,” he whispered. You felt your stomach burn with desire as he voiced the same thought that had been so pressing all night. You knew you could never get sick of him saying it, and you knew you could listen to him say those three words and survive solely off the feeling it provided.

“I love you, Sam.” You groaned, the climax threatening to take hold. “I love you so much.” He pulled you down harder, his cock slamming against your cervix in a pleasurable type of pain. You let out a cry, the sudden sensation immediately sending you into a third orgasm. You were lost in euphoria, barely existing within the same realm anymore. You clenched around him, singing his name as if it was a hymn and he was the god you were praying to. From the sight of your descent alone, it send him over the edge with no mercy. He held you down on him, uttering curses as he spilled his release into you. By the time you both came down, you were breathless and seeing stars. You held each other close in hopes that you could make the moment last forever, but you knew that nothing this fantastic could ever last. The harrowing reality was just around the corner, and you had to understand that this was the last night you could spend with Sam before you had to make the final decision.

He loosened his grip on you, carefully letting you down to your feet and holding you steady in fear your legs might give out. You leaned into his chest, craving comfort after the chaos. You wanted for everything to be over, for the pain to stop and for the happy to last, but you knew that the hurt was only beginning and bound to stay for a while. You listened to his heartbeat as it slowed in his chest, soothed immediately by your touch. “Here,” he said, shifting so you could be fully under the stream of warm water. You let out a hum of satisfaction, the heat soothing any ache that was lingering. He looked around, grabbing a bottle of shampoo while you enjoyed the water. He lathered some in his hands and ushered you back towards him. You rested your back on his chest once more while he brought his hands to your hair, gently rubbing the shampoo into the roots.

You could have fallen asleep in his arms with how relaxing the feeling was. He was gentle, using great caution in fear he might pull on the strands the wrong way. When he was satisfied with his work, he helped you rinse the soap from your hair. He repeated his actions with the conditioner you had sitting on a shelf and held you until you found the energy to wash the rest of your body. He washed his own hair while you scrubbed away the filth of the sins you had partaken in, but the feeling of Sam could never really be washed away. You both finished the normal shower routine and sat in each others company for a moment before turning off the faucet.

When you got out, Sam found a towel on the rack by the sink. He wrapped you in one before worrying about himself, fearful that the temperature change might disturb you. With a small smile on your lips and love in your heart, you both returned to the bedroom with intent to sleep. “I’d like to stay, if that’s okay. If not, I understand.”

“Of course you can, Sammy.” You said, dropping your towel to the floor as you climbed in bed. “I can worry about everything else in the morning, but for now, I want you here with me.” He couldn’t hide the blinding smile he adorned at the sound of your statement. He climbed into bed, pulling you into his arms in one swift motion. You let out a giggle at his enthusiasm, but you knew that you were feeling the same way just from the thought of sleeping by his side.

“I don’t care who you pick, y/n.” He started, letting his fingers trace shapes into the soft skin of your back. “I hope it’s me, but I just want you to be happy. No matter what happens, I’m thankful that I got the chance to love you, even if it’s only for a little while.”

“I’m grateful for that, too.” You agreed, feeling his words settle into your chest and begin to make your heart ache. You closed your eyes, but your mind was far from asleep. You were dreading the morning because it signified separation and moving on, two things that you were far from ready to do. Even if it was the right choice, it did not mean it hurt any less. Same eyes were closed too, thinking about the same things that were disturbing you. Neither of you spoke about them, and neither of you seemed to curb the fear of loss.

It seemed like such a shame for so much love to be shared between the three of you, especially knowing that the end would be nothing but painful. It was a shame that your first experience with love would ultimately burn you and everyone caught in the crossfire. But, it seemed as though your biggest fear of all was not to love or to hurt, but rather the fear of never wanting to love again after the storm settled. For your entire life, you were horrified of vulnerability, and intimacy was the enemy. Now that you experienced it both so beautifully and profoundly, you were most afraid of never feeling it again. You were terrified of being the Gold Dust Woman from the story, rather than the one Jake viewed you as. Beautiful but empty, cold and distant, and always searching for a thrill, yet forever too scared to take the leap. You hoped that you could remain the person Jake had viewed you has when he gave the nickname, but you knew it was not the case. There was only one way to be a Gold Dust Woman, and it was not in any way he chose to perceive you. You had become all that you swore not to be, and there was no escape from it.

Love was no longer the cause of your downfall; in fact, it never really was. It had always been yourself, even if you chose to remain blind to the harsh reality. The problem found home within you, and this time, you had no one else left to blame.

Did she shatter your illusions of love?

Come on, did you really think I’d let Sam go down without a fight? ;)

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld @gretavansara @jaketlove @laneygvf @freefallthoughts @psychedelicsprinkles @idontwannabeherenow @joshysgirl @sanguinebats @objectsinspvce @klarxtr @sinarainbows @jakesmustache @gvfpal @hellowgoodbye

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cidthesquid · 1 month ago

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Monster Hunter World | Character Creator Chat

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Welcome back to CCC, (Formerly Character Creator Critique) where I just kinda yap a bit while working through a character creator. This Time it's Monster Hunter World! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Just as a bit of a disclaimer: this is just really my (mostly uninformed) views on design and character creation, I'm mostly doing this 'for fun'! And will mostly just serve as a 'snapshot' of my current views and perspectives. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I thought about going a bit further back, but I figured, this was the first entry designed from the ground up for an HD console, so we'll start here. (For reference, I'm playing on PC with no mods or DLC)

And wow, it's been so long since I first started this game, I completely forgot about the cinematic intro that's your first introduction to this new high fidelity world Anyways, let's jump in..

The First option is your basic Gener selection, and it appears that they use this to also showcase their diverse option for skin tones. ..being someone with darker skin myself looking to make a darker skinned avatar, you may think I'd see this as a good decision! But I think this misses the point. I by no means kind this offensive or anything, but I think the #1 purpose of any selection menu in a game like this, is to allow the player to make a choice, compare and contrast, one major area at a time. Yet, you can't simply compare the male and female character options here, even aside from the skin tone differences the expressions are different, hair color, eye color, ear shape, lip spacing, how light reflects off skin, etc. I'd argue it takes too much focus away from "what general body shape do you want", and instead gives you two wildly different character presets. A quick and easy fix would have been to start with two models with a closer look, and including an early option to set the skin tone, so you can have a more accurate comparison of that this initial choice is for. Alright, on to presets:

You have 10 charter presets to pick between, offering a few different styles. I'll aim to try creating my normal avatar for simplicity. So we'll start with preset 5, Next up us face:

We have 24 presets for this, with no advanced options for tweaking. But we have a good variety of face designs:

Next up is skin:

They offer a 2D-gradient scale map, With each corner representing a different skin tone with a center point of a fairly neutral looking tone:

This is not really a bad idea on paper, and it still means you can choose to have lighter or darker skin, But I feel that basically making skin tones a 2d graph, a lighter skin tone as your (0,0) origin point, it makes it a bit harder to dial in darker skin tones, as most of your quadrant would lean to the lighter side, but I still think they offer a pretty decent selection. There's also an option for wrinkles if you want to give your character an older or more grizzled look. Next up is hair style:

And this is where things actually get to be disappointing, I planned to be a little lenient on Monster Hunter, as you won't really see your hunter much when decked out in super cool looking gear, Like with a few other games, if you want long hair, you only really have the one I selected above, a 'priests' styled one, or wavy. Medium length is treated a little better, but the game favors short.

But I feel like the hair would be the one thing that would be most notable, since you have the option to disable your helmet when in cutscenes, or in all gameplay. it would be nice to see a wider variety on display, But, if you want anymore than what's shown above, you gotta buy them as dlc:

The hair color options are pretty good though, a fair number of presets, and a hue slider with saturation and brightness tweaks:

Next up is eye brows:

This is where the labels start to get a little confusing, it seems like you have two sections that both have a selection of eyebrows, But in fact, the top selection 'eyebrows' determines the eyebrows design and thickness, (16 choices) While the second "Brow Type:" adjusts the height and angle. (24) I ended up going with brows (6) and type (5), as or the more subtle/refined variant of the energetic look that the rest of these selections seemed to be pushing me towards. Next up is eyes, and it looks like we're getting some real sliders now!

30 eye shape options, a seprate2d-positioning sliders, and full color customization for both eyes. This may not seem like much but I feel like a few tweaks here really help open up the look, but may necessitate further tweaks to earlier steps:

Like I don't think any of these are 'clearly better', But (image 1) shows my brows choice with the preset eyes, But (image 2) shows when I selected larger eyes, as they fit my avatar's look better. they still work well with the original brows, but I decided to go back a step and re-evaluate. But while I previously passed over the thinner eyebrows, I feel they fit much better with the larger eye choice, and get me closer to the original slightly more mature look I was going for. Next up is nose:

As always, I never know what to do with these, (24 presets) I just try to pick one that's not too distracting, I guess. (someone explain noses to me -_-) There's also a position slider, but I'm not touching that. Next up mouth:

(24 presets and a position slider) This is also a little tough to pick, but I went with the slight smile, The original idea for this design was to go with my slightly sassy punk rock look, but because of the presets I've I've been stick with, I've had to dial that back quite a bit, to a 'quietly energetic', I was going to go with a neutral expression looking lips, but instead I'm going with #3's slight hint of a smile as I think it can brighten up the design overall Next up is facial hair:

(21 options with a few common styles, but I'll be skipping this) makeup gets a little messy...

You basically have two 'slots' both containing all of the same options. These options contain face paint, eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, etc. So basically, even if you just wanted a freckled look, and eyeshadow, you'd already have used up both slot, so no lipstick for you! The position and size sliders are a nice touch, allowing you to adjust how they're applied, but the 'color' options were extremely underwhelming, as both brightness/saturation mainly just change how transparent the color is on your face. The only option to adjust the actual color is 'hue' and it seems very imprecise, In the above image, I tried to give myself the most punchy purple lipstick option by pretty much maxing out the sliders for the color, and you can barely see it. You could argue that they don't want everyone walking around looking like clowns, but at the same time, 1.. that's my right. and 2, why not just offer a separate transparency slider? and color picker? This way we could dial in the exact color we want, and then adjust the transparency to fade it as much as we want. (make up finish like matte/gloss would be a nice touch too) expression:

I think this is for facial expressions, they all look pretty similar, I'm not really sure where these are used, maybe cutscenes and combat? Changing the default clothing is a nice touch,

This is pretty much your character underwear, but you can select between a few different styles and you can adjust the accent colors Alright, and the last option, (before plaico customization) is selecting the armor you'll be wearing when you start the game

And with that, we're done!

I think the creator in this game is pretty detailed, considering for most people you'll only see like 60% of their face, because of the way armor works in this game, I can understand why further body customization is not offered. But it would have been nice to at least have like a muscle slider or something, to give our character a more 'buff' appearance, even if it's just a texture. I really don't understand the point of the expressions, I think a "personality" option may have fit better with options like "serious, confident, silly, cute, and cool" would make more sense as options, And it would be even cooler if they affected your idle animations and walk/run cycle. but I get that it's asking alot. So maybe just better labeling would do,

overall, I had a lot of fun, making a character here, the only real disappointment was the free hairstyle options, the makeup was finicky too, but the lack of hairstyle variety for short and medium, in a game that does not seem to gender lock hair was really sad to see.

But, anyways, next up is Monster Hunter Rise, So We'll see how the creator changes for that game!

(Ok, yeah, that lipstick is a little intense, but STILL NOT PURPLE!) Next CCC: Monster Hunter Rise! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun making this, so I hope you had fun reading it as well!

As always, comments, questions, and suggestions are welcome! And If I describe something 'objectively wrong', or use the wrong terminology, feel free to correct me, I'm always looking to improve! (But If it's subjective/personal preference, please let me figure it out myself, so I find my own style! :D )

#Character Creator Critique #style #dress up game #create a character #fashion game #NotStyleSavvy #monster hunter #monster hunter world #mhworld #mhw oc #Character Creator Chat

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rachthepoet · 4 months ago

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Meet Me in the Hallway Analysis

Another of Harry's songs gets underappreciated for the sole reason that people do not grasp the profoundness injected into it. This song is a masterpiece in uncertainty's devastation, utilizing time and setting for the emotions' amplification. The somber sound itself offers a perfect way to orient the listener to the delicate curation of HS1, making it one of my favorite openers, too. It delves into themes of longing, heartache, and an all-consuming desperation for reconciliation. Additionally, we are introduced to a theme that weaves itself fervently throughout HS1 — reflection and grieving. Too often, it's stuck side by side with self-regret and destruction, too.

Here's a deep dive into Harry Styles' Meet Me in the Hallway, from a poet.

Metaphors, baby, Metaphors!

The title itself is a metaphor and a core one at that. The term Meet Me in the Hallway purposefully mirrors the saying Meet Me in the Middle. This song has an intense tinge of a plea — specifics, the plea to reconnect and resolve unfinished business, to find a compromise. But, one party is always hurting more than the other. Per usual though, let's go a bit deeper. A hallway is a temporary, empty place to be stuck in. It's used to reach a destination but is never the destination itself. This is such a key detail in the perspective of the song. It's torturous, to be stuck in this limbo, never reaching the point he longs for, always being pushed back down on this hallway floor. It's a form of stagnancy, and one can easily spiral if left to their own devices in such circumstances.

There's another metaphor at work, a pretty big and overarching one — comparing love to addiction. I definitely think Meet Me in the Hallway is about love, but, more so, the loss of it. As many have vocalized one time or many, love can feel like a drug. Enveloped in the moment, it can make one see the world differently, and maybe it can even take your pain away. But, so easily, one can become reliant, and dependent, finding themselves immersed in the withdrawal pains when it's snatched away from them all at once. Essentially, that's what this song encompasses and illustrates — the withdrawal. Partnered with the bargaining, standing in the metaphorical space between closeness and distance. Trying to find a way to meet halfway physically and emotionally in a desperate effort to take the pain away. He needs them, and can't live without them, even as they mutilate him.

A last thing to mention is not really a metaphor, but more a running theme across his works that is always going to be prevalent — miscommunication. There's a significant struggle with lack of communication, now also highlighting bad coping mechanisms. Both, as one comes to see, find themselves in recurrence of this debut album of his.

Lyric Pull Apart

[INTRO] Two, three, four...

Something so decadent to the ear, but simultaneously so devastating to the gut. I love how this song — and the debut album — starts off with a hushed counting off. Starting with a hushed tone gives an intimacy to it, something so intriguing, as this opener chronicles a loss of intimacy.

[VERSE 1] Meet Me in the Hallway Meet Me in the Hallway I just left your bedroom Give me some morphine Is there any more to do?

Meet Me in the Hallway: Again, this is a rearrangement of the plea to meet me in the middle. Stopped at this first line to digest, but this is only the first in many moments of begging to work it out, interwoven with many pleas of wanting to get better and get better — but still finding oneself stuck in the hallway, stuck in the in-between, with no direction as to where to head to get to the destination at the end. A small detail I feel like people always miss is how his vocals echo, solidifying that particular image of him down and out. Sitting out in the hallway, back up against the wall, maybe with the head tilted back too — pleading in withdrawal.

Meet Me in the Hallway / I just left your bedroom: Just like the hallway is a metaphor, the bedroom is one as well. Take the setting and turn it into poetics. The bedroom is considered an intimate space, yes? The speaker's walked out, there's been a separation of intimacy, and is on his way out into the cold, but isn't all the way out. Remember, the hallway is an in-between space, always a method to the destination but never the destination itself. He's stuck in this agonizing leeway, and maybe he keeps returning back to them on his own or they keep convincing him, even with the knowledge that this addiction is detrimental to him on all levels.

There's some hidden detail just in the way it's phrased. I just left your bedroom gives some backstory. They were recently together and intimate, maybe an unwritten this will be the last time we do this (but they said that the last time, and the time before that). Inserting an emotional distance, but concurrently physical. And, back to bouncing off the bedroom metaphor, the relationship could be in such a place where the speaker feels like a stranger, like he's no longer welcome. Lost intimacy.

I just left your bedroom, this specification of "yours", as it's not his or theirs together. Again, lost intimacy. Marking the bedroom as the other party's in turn sets the other one's rules in place. The speaker has no sense of control, which can serve as a double meaning. No control in the relationship, but, at the same time, losing control of the self. The hallway is something more neutral, less intimate, a stark contrast to the bedroom — and that's where the speaker's been thrown.

Give me some morphine: Morphine is not only a pain medication, but it's also extremely addictive. Could this be him begging for it as the only close substitute to come close to the effect this person's love has/had on him? The love that's been ripped away? Here, and written in the undertone of the song's beginning to end, is a sense of hopelessness. This person's love is a drug to him, so he's bringing in another addictive drug to try and supplement. And, like much incorporated in this song, it's injected with metaphor — a simple one, more broadened, trying to search for the supplement to ease the pain. A supplement to the other who left him in urgency for something to take the pain away. It suggests that the speaker has fallen into a state of desperation, seeking any form of escape from the agony, even if unhealthy and just as destructive.

Is there any more to do?: Hopelessness! This song chronicles a moment of anguish, grasping at straws to try and salvage the intimacy and relationship, not wanting to lose the one who's taking the pain away. Even with the knowledge it might not be healthy, and even with the knowledge it's only a temporary solution. He's become dependent. And finds himself in the weakest state.

[CHORUS] Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door Hoping you'll come around Just let me know, I'll be on the floor, on the floor Maybe we'll work it out I gotta get better, gotta get better I gotta get better, gotta get better I gotta get better, gotta get better And maybe we'll work it out

Just let me know, I'll be at the door, at the door / Hoping you'll come around: I see this chorus as a surrender, a fall from grace on the hallway floor. The chorus' repetition captures this essence, I believe. He's ready to take the person back whenever they are willing. He's right at the door — trying to get closer to the past intimacy of the bedroom — ready to try and work it out, to try and meet in the middle, and push down the pain they've caused him. But will it ever really be forgotten? And he's hoping, even whilst drowning in hopelessness. It's on the other person to come around, for maybe he has run dry, exhausted. Stuck in the silence, the waiting.

Just let me know, I'll be on the floor, on the floor / Maybe we'll work it out: He's on the hallway floor, as all of his guards and dignity have fallen limp. Not putting up any fights to the withdrawal and pain, but rather letting himself succumb to the emotion. Surrendering himself to an addictive love, even if it's destined to harm him in the end. And he's saying maybe we'll work it out. Hoping, maybe, very tentative and insecure in his diction — like he's been in this same spot of desperation before. He's experienced the come down from the high too many times. Yet, a small part of him will still go back. He'll still fall to his knees if the other party welcomes him back in. Again, still a small part of him that tries to hope amid the hopelessness.

The lines before these and the two here now mirror each other, and there's an intention to that. When one's in despair, spiraling within yourself, you can repeat oneself over and over to try and communicate the tortured spot one's in. Repeating the same point again and again, even if phrased a little differently.

I gotta get better, gotta get better [x3]: What was that about repetition? It could be just for rhythmic purposes, granted, but it feels like it's something told to himself, repeating it like a mantra. A mantra that reflects both a personal struggle to heal and a stronghold on the aspiration to improve the situation with the other party. And it's sung in almost a yell, and very self-chastising. He's placing himself at fault, this confession into how he feels — and, because of the urgency the repetition evokes, it could be something that's been plaguing him, weighing him down to the floor. Maybe he knows he's not been handling things well, like one would with a drug addiction, and needs to get better to work it out. Even if it's not a guarantee. And, once more, the repetition, in this section and in other moments of the song, pushes forward the feelings of hopelessness, desperation, and even submissiveness.

[VERSE 2] I walked the streets all day Running with the thieves 'Cause you left me in the hallway (Give me some more) Just take the pain away

I walked the streets all day / Running with the thieves: These lyrics continue along the path of melancholy and introspection, and the sense of solitude is further painted. The speaker is wandering hopelessly, searching for something to replicate his drug — much like how substance abusers spend their days walking the streets looking for more. Then. Any saying that includes "running with the..." implies associating oneself with a group of people without necessarily identifying within it. A thief is someone who seeks something they don't possess. In this song, he's waiting desperately for someone who isn't returning back to him, so he feels the connection to the thieves — he seeks something he no longer possesses.

There's also an air of reminiscence to Liam Sparkes' quote in Another Man, speaking of tattooing Harry's butterfly:

"The butterfly on his torso is based on an old French prison tattoo inspired by Papillon. Traditionally, it would mean the wearer is a thief — something to do with the double meaning of 'Je vole', which translates as both 'I steal' and 'I fly'." — Liam Sparkes

This can bring in some more theorization of symbolism, as butterflies can represent someone's yearning for freedom or metamorphosis. He's been trapped in this metaphorical prison, in the hallway setting, for so long that he dreams of running with the thieves as a sense of freedom. Even if that freedom is self-destructive, it would still be freedom from this hopelessness and melancholia. Then, the illusion of metamorphosis, where he thinks these bad coping mechanisms will give him the feeling of open wings, but he's just shot down instead. The dichotomy and this could be a stretch, I fear, but I like sharing anyhow.

Running with the thieves could indicate he's let himself get carried away by things around him, to take his mind off the pain, engulfing himself in self-destructive things. Almost like he's fallen into the dramatic justifying thoughts: What's the point of anything if this love is lost? If the one I love won't let me in, might as well throw my entire self away. With this withdrawal of losing intimacy and connection with the other person, there's a lack of meaning to anything he does. So why not go and run about? Indulge himself in a self-induced ticking time bomb?

'Cause you left me in the hallway (Give me some more) / Just take the pain away: He points the finger to the other person as the cause of his agonizing isolation in the hallway, as they've neglected him in the limbo, for he has no indication of where they stand. He's been left somewhere in the middle of an unfinished relationship, hoping for more. Hoping for the person to take his pain away. And, through all this, I feel there's an indication that he's the only one holding out hope anymore. He blames his irresponsible actions from the lines before on the fact that he's been, again, left in the hallway, framing anything he does destructively as a cause-and-effect phenomenon. Again, the hallway is such a temporary and empty place to be, a way to get to the destination but never the destination itself. If one's standing endlessly in the hallway, especially in a moment of stagnancy with no direction out, you're nowhere meaningful — and that can be torturous.

I love how Give me some more plays off the earlier Give me some morphine, which can be both an emphasis and a branch off, diving deeper into the desperation. Screaming into the echos of the hallway "Give me more!". More effort from the other person, some more hope or signals that would make him believe they're working towards making things better too. And maybe this will take his pain away. Even if that soothing is superficial, he's desperate for something to take it away.

The chorus returns, with the spiraling repetition and aching. We have the metaphors of the hallway, the bedroom, but what about the door? Each piece of the setting listeners have been placed in holds such symbolism to it. The door could be a metaphor for entering back into the relationship, for the door is what separates the bedroom (intimacy) and the hallway (isolation). He's waiting for their permission for him to open the door and enter the room — circling back to how the speaker's the only one who still wants this companionship. He's the one having the desires, this desperation, a need — but the other person is failing to even meet him in the middle, to meet him in the hallway, even as he's now collapsed on the floor, overtaken by the pains of his withdrawal and melancholy.

[OUTRO] We don't talk about it It's something we don't do 'Cause once you go without it Nothing else will do

We don't talk about it / It's something we don't do: Here we go again, this man and his communication issues. I've said it before, and will probably say it a million more as it's inevitable to come up —struggle with communication is such a common theme across HS1, across his discography entirely. The two of them don't talk about their issues — maybe they're scared that if they start talking about it, it'll be like tugging on a loose thread, only a matter of time before they both unravel. There's a fear of loss, and a fear of having to grieve the companionship, as the love has grown — say it with me now — addictive.

'Cause once you go without it / Nothing else will do: Once he's had a taste of what this person could be for him, how they can take the edge off, he feels that anything and anyone that follows will pale in comparison. Drugs, such as morphine, are so highly addicting that people often feel like they can't live without it and nothing else is as good — after they've felt that surge in their body, or the relief, even if it was illusionary.

Within the confines of Meet Me in the Hallway, in its somber after-hours feel, themes and conceptualizations were set up to be returned to throughout the debut album. This song also has a lot to do with the self, which is fitting to lift the opener of a debut and reintroduction. But this relationship with the self isn't healthy all the time, and I think it's beautiful that we do explore darker themes often in his work. Writing songs can be a form of catharsis, and we are the gifted to be able to hear it, and maybe find our own release.

Thank you for reading, you’re absolutely incredible! If there are any songs you’d like me to make an analysis of, please send your request to my inbox! along with any questions or insights you might have yourself!

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