#the sister only ever calls us for help with homework

[echidnana]

our heart hurts

[hellodropbear]

like she used to (V)

alexia putellas x sister

chapter I, II, III, IV

from alexia's perspective tonight :)

~~~~~~

My younger sister hates me. 

I don't know why, I don't even know when it happened. 

But I know that my younger sister hates me, and I have absolutely no idea what to do about it. 

I have known there was something wrong since she started skipping our dinners on Thursdays, claiming to have Barcelona B training until late. 

I knew they finished up an hour before dinner started. 

Alba says that I spent to much time away from her, that I didn't focus on her enough. 

Mami says that she is growing up and simply becoming less reliant on her older sisters. 

But neither of those explanations seem to make sense, because my younger sister is not the girl that I once knew any more. 

The girl who would sleep in my bed every night, who wiped my tears when I cried and put a smile on my face when all I wanted to do was bury my face into my pillow and scream about how unfair the world was. 

Because she's Elena and she's happy, she always has been.

But Elena does not seem happy anymore. And I don't know when it changed, but I hate myself for not being there to make her smile like she did for me so many times when we were younger. I hate myself for not being there to put a smile back on her face as soon as it fell off. 

She lives with bags under her eyes, her usually olive skin turned pale, her eyes constantly downcast and her eyebrows set in a solemn line. 

She used to tell me everything, but then I blinked and my baby sister's name was on my team sheet and I didn't even know she had been training with the first team. 

Mami said that she was sleeping, that she didn't want to talk about it now. Mapi told me the next day that she found her 45 minutes away from home, sitting in the park by her house. 

I should have been there more, I should have gone to her games. I know that, everyone knows that. But I broke up with Jenni, who had been my rock for as long as I could remember. I broke up with Jenni and she moved to Mexico, leaving me alone for the first time, in an apartment full of memories that would swallow me every time I entered.

I felt alone, every fibre of my being felt alone. I was isolated and my world was crumbling around me. And I didn't know who to turn to, I didn't know where I could find support. 

I didn't know that Elena was sat at home in bed, staring at her phone and waiting for me to call her, to text her. 

I used to call her every night, but slowly, those phone calls died out. Elena would all asleep with her phone in her lap. Until she gave up. Until she switched her phone off as soon as she reached her bedroom in the evenings. 

Back when Papi died, I relied probably a bit too much on my little sister to get me through it. Mami always said it was the wrong thing so I didn't want to make that mistake again. I avoided Elena, not wanting her to realise how weak I really am. She always said she admired me for being strong, powerful. I was her inspiration, her hero. 

I didn't want to ruin that image she had of me by crying on Mami's couch, unable to be alone after something as superficial as a breakup. 

But I think I ruined that image in other ways. 

I stopped going to her games. 

I stopped holding her as she fell asleep in my lap on a Thursday evening, instead watching her move further and further away from me on the sofa, until she wasn't there at all. 

I stopped being there for her, helping her with her homework, picking her up from training, taking her out for ice cream. 

I stopped being her sister, and I don't think I will ever forgive myself. 

I don't think she will ever forgive me either. 

And to make everything worse, I only thought about it properly when Olga brought it up a few weeks ago. 

"Why haven't I met your younger sister yet? There are so many photos of her here, but I have never even spoken to her."

It was then that everything came crashing down, reality hitting me like a truck, driving 100 kilometres an hour along the highway. 

Olga couldn't understand why I was suddenly sobbing into her arms, my words more incoherent than my thoughts. But she held me close and told me one thing. 

"If there is something wrong with your little sister, you need to fix it."

Obviously she was right, she didn't need to tell me that. 

I felt an enormous surge of guilt explode inside of me, and for once Olga's arms didn't do anything to help me. I don't deserve her comfort, I don't deserve to feel good when I have left my baby sister behind. 

Because she is everything to me but I haven't spoken to her in two years. 

I don't know how I let it go this far.

~~~~~~

Mapi's voice is scratchy and quiet over the phone, and I could tell something is wrong. She wouldn't tell me what. 

"Elena is here with me. I texted Eli but she didn't reply but I needed to tell someone that she is safe and asleep in my spare room. We will take her to the game in the morning."

She didn't say much else, other than that she found my sister at the park after she had taken the bus from home. 

But, the look that she gave me at the game the next day told me everything I need to know. 

It wasn't angry, really, she just looked confused and hurt. She looked upset as well and I knew exactly what it was about. Because Elena has always loved Mapi, and Mapi has always treated Elena like a little sister. 

Elena would have told Mapi something, and even though I don't know what it was, I know it would have been bad enough to make Mapi overthink everything, to realise how awful I have been over the past few years. 

I was anxious through the whole game, separated from my best friend by Frido and Jana, trying my best to ignore the looks that Mapi kept sending me. 

The looks that were filled with such emotion that I couldn't handle. Emotions that were hard to read because they were filled with so much meaning. 

I am too much of a coward to face her and my consequences, I realise, so I ignore it for as long as I can. 

But I knew I could not avoid everything when Mami pulled me to the side after the rest of the girls had gone back into the changing rooms, after Alba had gone to the bathroom. 

"What are you doing?" 

She was furious, and for good reason. But I stay silent, still too scared, too guilty about everything I had done. The only thing on my mind was  trying to figure out how I could ever fix this. 

"Alexia Putellas! Answer me! What are you doing?" 

Her face was almost red, but if I looked hard enough I would have been able to see the tears that dried up in her eyes, never given the chance to slip down her face. 

"What do you mean, Mami?" 

She rolled her eyes dramatically and scoffed loudly. 

"Your baby sister is 15 years old and without any help from you, her older sister, was sitting on the bench for your team. The best team in Europe. She is 15, Alexia! This is such a huge achievement and all she wants is a hug from you, for you to tell her you are proud of her, that you love her. But no. Nothing. Nothing at all from the great Alexia Putellas who cares about nothing but her career!" 

Mami's words are a slap in the face, really. Thinking back to them, however, they are the truth. The terrible, painful, horrendous truth. 

Not that I don't care about anything but my career, of course, but about how I haven't done anything to help Elena get to where she is. 

I pause before responding, debating internally how I should respond. 

I could respond with fire, but that would just make Mami even more furious.

So I don't. 

"I know she is, Mami! That is why I am about to go do exactly that. I am so, so proud of her but I can't find the words to tell her just how proud I am."

She looks at me for a moment, as if assessing the validity of my statement. 

"We are going out to dinner tonight, Alexia. You are coming with us and we are celebrating Elena. Not you, Elena."

I nod, telling her that I will go get Elena and meet her and Alba outside. 

Except that doesn't happen, because I see Elena in the changing rooms, but she doesn't seem to want to have anything to do with me. 

I see the 15 year old girl laughing and interacting with my team, holding Aitana close and whispering in her ear. 

But honestly, the whole scene flipped my insides out. I am not focused on Olga as she chats to me, as she notices how distant I am from reality, moving towards Mapi. 

When I do finally speak to my sister, it does not go well. She is cold and I don't know how to get through to her because she is right to not want to talk to me, she is right to stick up for herself. I have messed up and I still have no idea how to fix things. And until I do, she is right to act like this. 

So I didn't end up going to their dinner, instead sitting alone in my apartment and staring blankly at my switched off tv, wondering what on earth I can do to fix this mess. To fix this mess that I single handedly created. 

It meant that Mami came round late, storming into my apartment, smoke practically billowing from her ears.

"You have messed up, Alexia. She is so upset and it is entirely your fault! You are stupid, you are irresponsible and you have been a terrible sister." 

I cowered under her strong gaze but she did not soften. She sat down, placing her head in her hands.

"You are almost 30! You should know better. I have not raised you to be like this, I have not raised you to throw people away without any thought, not caring how it might affect them. She is so confused and so, so upset and it is all because of you. All because you decided a few years ago that you did not have time for her anymore."

"Mami-"

There are tears in my eyes, but Mami can not see them. Mami does not care, she should not care because I did all of this, all by myself. 

"No, Alexia. You will tell me what has happened, why you have done this. You have ripped apart our family, Alexia. Alba is practically mourning the destruction of it and I just can not begin to understand why you have decided Elena doesn't mean anything to you any more."

"I haven't decided that!" My yell took my mother off guard and she recoiled. I continued before she could speak again. 

"I love her! So much and I am proud of her! I don't know what I have done, Mami and I don't know how to fix this." The tears that filled my eyes began to slip down my face. "I have ruined everything."

My voice broke and Mami softened, looking at me in confusion, some sort of inner turmoil and for the first time in my life, I recognised that she had no idea what to do. 

She didn't know what to do as I broke down into sobs, my body practically folding into itself, loud cries wracking through my body. 

"I don't know what is wrong with me." 

~~~~~~

Mami and I spoke for ages that evening. She convinced me that I should take a step back and let Elena come to me. That I should try and talk to Elena soon to tell her that I love her, that I am proud of her. 

But it ended up with another unsuccessful attempt of speaking to Elena. She was in bed and wanted nothing to do with what I wanted to say. I told her everything that Mami told me I should, ignoring the protests of my insides. 

I do not want to take a step back because I am already so far away. I want to be there for my sister like I should be, there for a hug or for some assurance. But that is not what I tell her, because apparently, that is not what would be the best for her. 

All I want is the best for her. 

I want nothing more than to tell her I want to be a part of her life like I used to be, I want things to just go back to normal. But nothing is that easy. I have to face the consequences of all my mistakes. 

Huge, terrible, life altering mistakes.

I tried again the next morning, but she ignored me completely, heading up to her room without a single utterance of a word. I could practically hear her exhale in relief as the piano chair creaked and waited until she had begun her playing to walk upstairs and sit by her door. 

She has improved at it so much, skyrocketing right past the level that Papi used to play at. The notes rang out at such a pace that I could barely keep track of where the song was going, up, down, fast, slow, loud, soft. 

The rhythms flew through the house and I didn't register the warm liquid slipping down my face until it fell with a splat into my lap. 

It is painful to realise how much I have missed; how much I miss her. 

Her playing is mesmerising and I could feel the emotion that radiates from her and her piano. 

It used to be Papi's, but now it is hers.

Because she has grown up into such a talented person and our father would be so proud of her. 

Me, I don't think he would be so proud of. 

And I hate myself because of it. 

The song broke down into soft chords and if I strained my ears I could hear her quiet whimpers. But I can't comfort her any more. 

No matter how much I want to. 

She will not be comforted by me. She doesn't want me there to comfort her. 

So I creep down the stairs and leave. I drive back to my apartment, back to Olga. 

At this point, I am used to the constant stream of water on my face. 

But there is nobody to blame but myself. 

~~~~~~

The next few weeks were equally as painful, despite Olga's efforts to lighten me up. My mood was down when I woke up in the mornings, and only got worse after training, seeing Elena light up when she spoke to my friends but escape every room I entered, cowering when I glanced over at her, leaving conversations as soon as I joined them. 

It's like she is scared of me, intimidated by me. I hate it. 

Mapi was silent in rehab, which is a big change from the constant stream of chatter I am used to. I don't think she knows what to say to me anymore, knowing what I have done. 

I wouldn't know what to say to me either. 

It is Vicky approaches me one day after training. We are all sat in the changing rooms when wanders over and asks for help with her homework. It is maths, and I tell her with a laugh that I will be no help at all, but she persists, opening her book and pointing at the maths equations, confusion written all over her face. 

I help her as much as I can, laughing at the drawings she has scrawled out on her page, explaining the trigonometry to her as she stares at me intensely. It takes a while, but she gets it eventually, finally answering a question correctly. 

"Nice, Vicky! So much better, so quickly!" 

Mapi stands up from across the room, grabbing her bag and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her. 

From where they are sitting in quiet conversation, my sister and Aitana look up at the door, their eyes scanning the room. Aitana's eyes land on me first and she rolls them dramatically, shaking her head in what looks like disgust. 

"Vicky, I did that yesterday. I can help you." 

Elena's voice is level, but I can see confusion in her eyes at the scene that had just unfolded. 

Vicky sighs in relief, closing her book and walking across the room to Elena. 

"I forgot you were smart!" She beams, plonking herself down on the seat beside my sister and they both dive into the world of mathematics. 

Aitana is standing up by now, her bag over her shoulder. 

"Alexia, can I speak to you outside?" Her voice is steady as she continues. "There is something wrong with my dribbling and I would like some help."

It is a lie and everyone knows it. There is never anything wrong with Aitana's dribbling. 

But I pick up my bag, following the shorter midfielder out the door, immediately faced by Mapi who stands there, anger all over her face. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Her voice is low and her words come out as a whisper, full of venom. Full of anger. 

It is something I am not used to from Mapi and it takes me off guard. My hesitance gives her the chance to continue.

"Helping Vicky Lopez with her maths when you don't have the first clue whether Elena is even at school. Elena, your sister."

"She goes to school." 

My voice is full of confidence, but Mapi is right, I don't even know how she manages to fit it all in. I don't know the first thing about her timetable. 

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. 

"Do you understand just how much damage you have done?"

I nod, inhaling and exhaling deeply. 

"She hates me, I know. I have ruined everything. It is all my fault."

Mapi nods, but it is Aitana who speaks next. 

"She doesn't even hate you, Alexia. It just shows how much she loves you. You have done all this and she still loves you, still would do absolutely anything to get your approval, your attention."

I blink to stop the tears and bite the insides of my mouth to stop it from trembling. 

"She has been begging for you to notice how hard she has been working. How well she is doing. But you do not, you don't see her, it is like you are blind! And then Vicky Lopez gets a maths question right and you give her more praise than you give Elena for being selected in this team, for working hard, for being so, so incredible." 

If Aitana wasn't whispering to keep this conversation from the ears of the people in the room we just left, she would be fully yelling, her face red and her eyes narrow. 

"She is perfect, Alexia, and it is so sad because you just can't see it, you can't see how good she is, how smart, how kind, caring. And it makes me so, so angry because you have changed her so much in the past few years, and not in a good way."

Mapi puts her hand on Aitana's arm, trying to get her to stop. Mapi knows me well, and knows when I am about to break. 

But the usually stoic midfielder has tears in her eyes when she continues, her voice softening and breaking at the same time. 

"She was such a happy little girl, so excited by everything. She loves you so much and she always looked up to you. But now she is insecure, she is lonely, isolated. She is confused and feels like she needs to fight for validation every day. Everyone has pressure on them in this team, especially when they are young, new blood. Coming from La Masia and the B team you should know this, Alexia. You should know about the pressure better than anyone because I do too. But your sister? She has it worse than anyone because she has all that, but she is your sister. Alexia Putellas, two time Ballon d'Or winner. She has to live up to that in some way and is trying to hard to do it without anyone's help. She is only 15, Alexia. 15."

Aitana stops, but I am not sure whether it is because she has nothing more to say or if it is because she is too upset. She is silenced by weak tears, shaking her head as Mapi places a soft arm around her shoulder. 

"She is right, Alexia." Mapi's voice is soft and she looks at me with that same concerned glint in her eye. "And I don't know what is going on with you, but whatever it is, it needs to be fixed. You have made some significant damage and if you don't do something about it, it will all become irreparable."

"I don't know what to do." It is a cry for help, and it is all I can say without letting my tears escape from me once more. 

Because Aitana's words are nothing I don't know, but the fact that she is saying them, that she feels the need to tell me all that, is enough to tell me that it is not clear to anyone that I already know. 

Because I have been a bad sister, I am not denying it. 

And I am guilty, I feel absolutely terrible. 

Mami said to leave her alone, let her come to me, but I don't think that was her best advice any more, because my sister is struggling. 

She is struggling and I am only making it worse. 

But I can't do anything about it. 

When she was little, she would be the person I would go to when I needed to be cheered up. She would make me smile, laugh, feel better about myself and the world around me. Her small arms would wrap around me, her chubby fingers would wipe my tears from my face and she would chatter and giggle into my ears until I was smiling again. 

She was the light in our household when Papi died, but I think that was partially because she didn't understand what was happening. 

We avoided his study like it had the plague, she would go and sit on the piano stall, practicing the songs he had taught her. 

She gave us endless cuddles, basking in our attention, her heart set on making us feel better, on putting a smile back on our faces. 

She made the darkest time of our lives bearable, she helped me get through the hardest times of my life. 

And this... this is how I repay her. 

"Ale... Alexia? Ale." Mapi's hand is on my shoulder and Aitana looks at me curiously. 

"Stop, just... stop." My voice is soft, and Mapi's eyes soften as I slide down the wall behind me. "I just... I don't know what to do."

Mapi sits down beside me, perhaps thinking that maybe she had been too harsh. 

"I had Elena over yesterday." Mapi's voice is quiet. "She said... she said she misses you, Alexia. And that... she said you told her you were going to take a step back. She thinks you already did. She doesn't want that. She just wants you."

"But I have ruined everything, Maria. This is all my fault." A singular tear finds itself on my cheek and Mapi places an arm around me. 

"You're right, you made so many mistakes. But I know you, I know you love her. She means everything to you. And she loves you as well, Ale. I know you two can get through this, but she is struggling to stay afloat with all this pressure and no support. Aitana and I... we need to look out for her because your Mami works all the time and she doesn't want to burden Alba with her problems and ruin her life. We need to be there for her at the moment because the poor girl is crumbling."

I wish she would realise that I am crumbling too. 

Olga is always there to hold me, to calm me down, but as much as she tries, she can't understand what is going on with Elena. She doesn't know Elena, which I know is my fault. 

But Mami is angry with me, so is Alba. For good reason. 

And Mapi is my best friend, but she needs to be there for Elena. 

All I want to do is cry out for help, but I know I can not because I caused it. 

"I am taking Elena out this afternoon." Aitana speaks up from where she has been stood silently. "I will talk to her again, we will work on it. I'm going to go now, but Alexia, if you need to, you can talk to any one of us."

I nod at her, trying to muster a smile onto my face as she walks back into the changing room. 

"Mapi, you are my best friend." 

She nods. 

"You will be honest?"

She nods again. 

"Do you think this is fixable? Do you think I've ruined my chance of ever getting my Lena back?" 

She rests her head on my shoulder. 

"I hope so. I miss seeing the smiles on both of your faces and truthfully, I don't think that Elena will thrive here if she keeps going on like this. She needs support, from you, your Mami and your sister and I don't really think she is getting it."

"But Mami and Alba are there for her!" I find myself getting defensive of my family. 

"I know they are, but she needs more than that at the moment. She has been skipping school because nobody is home to tell her to go to it, she has been skipping meals because nobody is home to eat with her. She doesn't sleep properly, she doesn't eat properly. It is not your mother's fault that she has to work, or Alba's fault that Elena doesn't want to burden her, but she needs more support than she is getting." 

My brain is telling me that Mapi is wrong, that my sister is fine, that my family is fine. But in my heart, I know she is right. And it makes me feel sick. 

Because if it wasn't for me being such a terrible sister, such a terrible person, Elena would not be struggling so much. She would not need Mami or Alba as much as she does, she would be thriving in this environment. 

But she is not. 

The pressure is something I only really felt when I got older, when I had thicker skin. I had a force of people around me to fall back on, to get support from. But Elena has so much pressure building on her at 15, with less experience, with less people to support her. 

And the pressure will keep building and building on top of her, until it is so high that everything falls over, falling down on top of her until she breaks. 

As if reading my mind, Mapi continues after her pause. 

"And if she does crumble under all this pressure, she will need so much support. Aitana and I will be there for her, if nobody else is."

~~~~~~ hope you enjoyed :)

Will probably be back to elena's perspective next chapter, just thought it'd be easier to write this in a different one

part VI

[cursedkeyboard]

PAY ATTENTION ● Older brother Suguru & Younger sibling!Reader

what happens when suguru's cute younger sibling, who'd usually talk his ear off and cling to him, suddenly starts to... do their own thing?

Pairings: Platonic Suguru Geto x Younger sibling!Reader

As we know, Suguru is a rather mature teenager

He carries this air of elegance, always putting on a polite smile and spilling pleasantries past his lips like sweetened lies

But we also know that Suguru can be childish around the right people

So it's not a surprise to anyone close to him that when his younger sibling, you, stops following around like a lost puppy, Suguru immediately starts to sulk

You're only three years younger than Suguru, fourteen to his seventeen

You two always had a close relationship, closer than most siblings tend to have

Suguru loves spending time with you, to him, you're easily the funniest kid he knows

It's hard for him to ever calm down completely since he's constantly stressed with the sorcerer world

But every day when he goes home and you're in the living room or in your room, it's like he can finally breathe

Because before Satoru, you were Suguru's only friend

His little mini-me, partner in crime, best friend

You two clicked and moved like one, so in tune with each other he always marveled at how most siblings tend to hate each other

Of course, the two of you do fight sometimes

Over who gets to take a shower first, who ate the leftovers, who gets to watch what on TV

"Did you use my shampoo?"

"The one you keep hiding from me? Yeah."

"You little– That's expensive."

"That's why I used it, Suguru."

You two are siblings after all, what kind of siblings never fight?

But he never felt the kind of animosity and distrust so many brothers and sisters feel around each other, the kind that made them roll their eyes whenever they even got close to their siblings

To Suguru, you're his little sunshine, someone he'll protect until the day he keels over and dies

Not that he'll ever tell you that

(number one rule of siblingship: Never be too touchy-feely)

So imagine his surprise when the little punk who usually follows his every step, always under his elbow, asking him to hang out or help with homework, stays glued to the phone even when he sits in the same room

Like.... what?

You barely greet him, a half hearted "Hey, you're home." falling from your lips without even looking at him, and he's offended and hurt at the same time

You're fourteen, sure

He knows you'd start pulling away from him now that you have more than a couple of friends, more subjects to study, and... uh..

Puberty

But he thought it'd go away after a bit, that you'd go back to being his cute little sibling once you realized he is so much cooler than the kids your age

He'd walk past your open door multiple times a day after coming home, trying to see if you were going to invite him to hang out

He'd make tea with a mouthwatering fragrance, put on your favorite show, talk to your parents about going to a very trendy and fun place you'd surely want to go with

Damn, at some point he'd probably even talk to Satoru on the phone, loudly, because he knows you're curious about the pretty white haired teen who always teases you whenever he sees you around Suguru's home

But even then, nothing

Nothing at all

Suguru feels like he's watching the baby he helped learn how to walk turn into an adult and leave him behind

And as a big brother, he's upset, a little petty, and worst of all;

Sulky

Of course, Satoru and Shoko definitely notice, because although Suguru is quiet, he's not staying in a corner looking out of the window while listening to sad music and reminiscing quiet

And of course, they both make fun of him when he explains the situation

"And here I thought Gojo was the unreasonable one."

"Hahaha! I– I can't believe! You're sulking because the little brat isn't talking to you?!"

"Shut up, Satoru, and don't call my baby sibling a brat."

"Hah! You're such a loser, Suguru!"

Needless to say, when Suguru comes home and you're still glued to your phone in the living room, he's not in the greatest of moods

You barely look up when he drops his bag on the table

"Welcome back, Susu."

And because no one ever made a law saying Suguru can't act like Satoru sometimes, the teen flops on the couch and hugs a pillow, not answering you

That, you notice

Your brother always talks to you when he comes back home, even when he is all banged up from whatever they do at school

The sight that greets you is... something

Embarrassing, endearing, definitely pathetic for your big brother

Suguru is pouting, looking down at the pillow his strangling to his chest, his knees pulled up to make himself smaller

Not that it works, he's built like a bean pole

His shoulders brush yours, because even though he's mad, he still misses his cute– annoying little sibling

"Suguru?"

...

"Mr. Suguruuuu....?"

...

"Hey, what's wrong?"

He turns his face away, his hair slapping your face, and pushes more of his body against yours

"What the– Dude, you're squashing me! Suguru, what's wrong with you?!"

Suguru still says nothing, silently letting more and more of his weight to lower on top of you until you're smushed against the couch

Once you're a baby sibling pancake, Suguru finally opens his mouth

"So now you're paying attention to me, huh?"

... Huh?

"Huh?"

Suguru huffs, his hair all over your face, body much bigger and heavier than yours not allowing you to move an inch even though you struggle, and squeezes his pillow

"No, it's fine. Go ahead, ignore your big brother all you want. It's not like I helped mom and dad raise you."

"... Are you kiddi–"

"Yeah, keep your eyes glued to your phone, don't need to talk to me or don't hang out with me– actually, don't even look at me at all, since I'm sure you'd much rather look at your phone."

"You're being such a chil–"

"No, no, by all means! It's not like I miss you or anything."

You sighed with some effort, because Suguru is still on top of you and he's not a lightweight, and thump your head against the soft couch

Sure, you know you've been a little distant from your big brother

But, hey, you're fourteen now!

You have your friends and stuff you wanna do without your brother around

And, really, Suguru is a hypocrite

Ever since he started high school he wouldn't stop talking about the white haired cutie

Which you understood, if only visually because Satoru would often call you pint-sized Suguru

But he also spends time with other people!

"You do know I have other friends."

"So I don't matter to you anymore, is that it?"

"No, I'm just not gonna hang out with you all the time!"

"Well, you haven't been hanging out with me at all."

"Urgh!"

"Yeah, urgh."

God, you really wish more people knew about how pouty and clingy your big bro can get

Maybe they'd stop thinking he was this mature and chill guy

You groan against the couch and your brother presses his back down, pushing the air out of your lungs

"You're so annoying!"

"You used to say you wanted to be just like me when you grew up."

This guy...

You sigh, relaxing and surrendering

You're supposed to meet up your friends this weekend to watch a movie, but two of them can't make it so everyone gave up on it

Might as well use the opportunity

"Fine– I'm sorry, okay? Do– Do you wanna watch a movie this weekend? The one that just came out?"

Suguru stops for a second, letting some of his weight off of you and allowing you to breathe properly

He mutters the name of the movie and you confirm it

"Hmm..."

You can hear the smile on his face and you scoff, the exact same smile pulling at your lips too

"If you promise you'll pay more attention to your neglected older brother, then yeah."

Oh, you so want to take it back

But then again, now that he brought it up, you also miss him

If only a little

Like, a smidge

"Fine, I won't ignore you anymore. Happy?"

Suguru took a moment to answer before turning around to press a loud and gross older brother kiss on the back of your head

Now you have to take a shower

"Very happy."

He sounds smug and satisfied, finally a little more relaxed

He really did miss you so much

You're his baby, okay? Growing up too fast will only give him heartaches

And now Suguru can tell Satoru that you don't hate him

Everyone wins

...

"Hey, can you get off now?"

"Hmmm, no, I'm comfortable."

"Well, I'm not! Get off, Suguru!"

"Don't feel like it."

"Suguru!"

[weasleykisses]

Astronomy I (Sirius Black x Reader)

A/N: You think you hate Sirius Black. As James’ sister though, you see an awful lot of him. If only you weren't desperately in love with him, and he wasn't the most handsome boy you'd ever met. 

word count: 5.6k

You didn’t mind hanging out with your twin brother. He was exciting and funny, always making you laugh aloud from his antics. You actually enjoyed his company, unlike how some others were with their siblings. You assumed he liked your company.

At least, he enjoyed your company when you weren’t fighting ruthlessly with a certain boy with long raven-colored hair and an awfully smug smile on his lips that never left his face. You couldn’t stand Sirius Black. He was just…just a womanizing pervert with no life. It was hard sometimes getting along with your own brother when his best friend was so miserable to be around.

You didn’t even mind your brother’s other friends. Peter was quiet and a great listener. He wasn’t anything special,  but he never got on your nerves either. Remus was practically godsent, helping you with homework and sitting with you when you had classes without any of your friends. He had this way of making everything so calm and tranquil when he entered the room. 

You were roommates with Lily, your brother’s crush since the first year at Hogwarts. You also hung out with Dorcas and Marlene, sometimes Mary, sometimes Alice and Frank. You could appreciate most of the people you found yourself surrounded by. Everyone but him.

At least, that’s what you wanted everyone to think. You actually really enjoyed your time with Sirius, much more than you should have. He was just so perfect. The guy of your dreams, literally. You often woke up in the middle of the night after having dreamt of him kissing you, calling you his girl. 

Only, he wasn’t interested in you. To him, you were just his best mate's twin sister, just another bro within the group. You didn’t know where he got that impression either. You were smart and considerate of others, unlike the majority of the marauders. You wore dresses and painted your face with makeup to highlight some of your more feminine features. You were a girl with feelings, not simply “one of the guys”. Peter and Remus didn’t see you like that. 

That’s why you found yourself absolutely furious with him all the time. You hated him so much. You hated the way he made you feel like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You hated the way he smirked when you got flustered. You hated everything about him because he wasn’t yours. It wasn’t always that way either. You used to like him in your first few years at Hogwarts, but over time you started to catch feelings and you weren’t very tolerant of the heart break you felt whenever he inevitably flirted with other girls. 

That’s why you sat with your arms crossed, trying to zone out his incessant flirting with Marlene McKinnon even if she was gay as fuck. The way he complimented her beautiful blonde hair, and winked when she smiled at him. 

Peter was talking to you about something that happened in his History of Magic class that afternoon, but you weren’t listening. You’d checked out a long time ago. 

“Whatever, McKinnon, I’ve got a hot date with a Ravenclaw later. Your loss,” he joked, and she shoved his shoulder playfully. He respected that Marlene was in a committed relationship with Dorcas, but he couldn’t help flirting with everyone. Well, everyone except for you. You’d nearly bite his head off if he did. 

You immediately felt uncomfortable at his comment, now knowing he had another date with, no doubt, a gorgeous girl. He would probably snog her, maybe even hook up if he was feeling promiscuous. Your stomach turned like you might be sick all over the coffee table. 

Your brother piped up from his spot beside Lily near the fireplace, “When are you gonna settle down, Pads? You have a new girl, like every week.”

Sirius grinned and shook his head. “‘No plans on slowing down any time soon,” he declared, “I don’t think there’s been a girl to catch my eye yet.”

You deflated. Of course he would say that. You didn’t know why you always got your hopes up. He wasn’t the type to settle for a single girl. He liked to spread his affection thin amongst many suitors. 

“Aw, that's no fun. Don’t you want to find your true love?” Lily asked, leaning into James happily. You were happy to see your brother finally with the girl of his dreams. He’d spent enough years running after her, that was for sure. 

Sirius shrugged. “When I meet her, I meet her. If not, I won’t be disappointed.”

Except, Sirius Black did have a girl that caught his eye. In fact, you’d done so pretty long ago, before he could remember really. Only, you were insistent that you despised him, fighting with him since the third or fourth year. James’ pretty sister, the one that loved astronomy, cauldron cakes, and unfortunately,  scowling at any attempt he made to flirt with you. 

He wanted you. You were always endgame in his eyes, the girl he would marry and spend his days huddled up in a cottage with. One day, he wanted to give you everything you could need, anything you asked for. It was the only thing he saw when he thought about his future. 

You sighed, thinking about the girl he must like. You imagined he liked someone with soft long hair, sparkling eyes, a button nose and plump pink lips. Maybe she was intelligent and kind, or clever and sexy. You were rough around the edges. You weren’t the most attractive girl at Hogwarts, nor were you particularly intelligent or charming. You were fairly plain in comparison to some of the showstopping girls that you surround yourself with. Lily, for example, was drop dead gorgeous. 

“Come on. There must be one girl you fancy,” Marlene teased.

Sirius smirked. “And so what if there is? I’ll never tell who.”

“My guess is on that Hufflepuff in our charms class. She’s always sneaking looks at you,” Peter suggested, and Sirius didn’t reply, letting your mind wander. It simmered in your mind, the thought of Sirius and that Hufflepuff girl, you thought her name was Penelope, if you remembered correctly. She was a cute girl with sweet eyes and a soft voice filled with joy. 

You didn’t notice, but your lip quivered just a bit. Your heart had sunken down in your stomach like a boulder. With your shoulders turned in on themselves, you looked down at the carpet, trying to focus on the gold and red pattern instead of the discussion at hand. 

Why did you feel so sick at the thought of Sirius liking another girl? He was just a friend, if that. He was more like a friend of a friend that you eventually only begrudgingly hung out with. So what if he liked that stupid hufflepuff girl with her sparkly pink eyeshadow and her perfect nose and a voice that rivaled a siren’s song? It didn’t matter to you. 

Only it did, and when you felt that familiar wave of tears coming through, you shook your head. 

“Oh, Y/N, where are you going?” James asked, and you exhaled, trying to avoid the tremor in your voice.

“I forgot I have to run by the library and study that chapter on dittanies before that test tomorrow,” you said, and Remus looked at you, confused. You didn’t have a test in Herbology for another week. Only he knew that as he was in the same class as you. 

You picked up your bag and started making your way out of the common room. You heard Remus say something behind you, but you were too focused on rushing away from the conversation. You left out the portrait hole, letting the first of your tears run down your face when you were in the hallway. You sniffled, pressing your face to your puffy cardigan sleeves. 

The door opened behind you and you tried to cover up your little crying fit, but upon seeing Remus Lupin walk out, clearly looking for you, you let your guard down. You could trust him, out of everyone in the group, he was most likely to keep your secrets. 

You let yourself sob, shutting your eyes and pressing your palms to cover your eyes. 

His hand found your back and rubbed soothingly. “It’s okay, Y/N. Forget about him. He’s an idiot,” he assured, and you only cried harder. There was nothing much to say. 

“I just fucking hate that I like him, Remus. Why him? It’s so stupid. He’s so stupid,” you cried, so angry with yourself. “I’ll never look like those girls. I’ll never be like them. I’m stuck being boring Y/N.” You wiped at your tears, trying to stop yourself from being such a baby. 

He let out a heavy sigh. “Why do you think of yourself like that?”

“How can I not? Sirius won’t even flirt with me. I’m that disgusting that the biggest flirt in the entire world won’t even jokingly compliment me,” you told him. 

“Sirius is complicated. I’m sure it’s not what you think.”

“Yeah, right. That’s why I’ve never had a boy ask me out the entire time we’ve been at Hogwarts,” you groaned, “Give it up, Moony. I’m just the worst.”

“Have you considered boys might be too intimidated to ask you out,” he suggested, leaning down to make eye contact with you. “You seem to forget your brother is Quidditch team captain and you exude quite a lot of attitude.”

You rolled your eyes, an awkward smile on your lips. “I’m not intimidating.”

“You kind of are. I’ve even noticed a few boys look at you positively smitten this year, might I add.”

You smiled, leaning into his side to give him a little hug. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Rem.”

“That’s just what friends do,” he told you, hugging you back. He was probably the only person in this world that knew about your crush on the disowned Black. He encouraged you time and time again to just shoot your shot and ask him out, but you denied it every time. You just continued to argue with the boy, too scared to be nice to him and fall deeper into this pit you called love.  The downside was that you sort of chose to be an asshole. Sirius really didn’t deserve it, he didn’t do a thing wrong. You just couldn’t handle your feelings of inferiority mixed with intense emotions for the boy. 

You didn’t know what the next steps were, but you swore to yourself you wouldn’t let Sirius Black hold you back anymore. 

____

It was Christmas, so you and your brother had packed your things to spend the holiday at your house. Normally, you would be ecstatic to go home and enjoy yourself, only the past few holidays since Sirius was disowned, James decided it was time to start inviting Sirius to the family gatherings as well. As much as you loathed having to see him during your vacations, you agreed that it was the right thing to do inviting him. His own family was awful and cruel, and he didn’t deserve that sort of treatment anytime, much less so close to the holidays. 

“You know the drill, Black. This room is yours now. It’s got a bathroom over there, and obviously you can use any of the soaps, shampoos, whatever you might need,” you told him, pointing to the attached bath beside his bedroom. “You can also use the wardrobes and the closets if you want to unpack the clothes you brought with you.”

You didn’t know why your parents assigned you the role of showing Sirius around the house when you could have been the one to show Remus around, as he was also staying at the house. James was off showing their tall friend around instead, and you envied him. Whenever you were with Sirius, you just felt so awkward. 

He was so handsome. He was charming and beautiful, with just enough snark to be interesting, but not enough to be rude. He was handsome but not so much he wasn’t manly and rugged. You had to stop yourself from staring at him as you walked him around the huge house you lived in for your entire life. 

He hummed, looking at you with those stunning brown eyes. “Your room is right beside mine?”

“Yes, not that that matters at all.”

“What if I have a bad dream and need someone to comfort me?” he asked with a smirk, and you just rolled your eyes. 

“You can go to James’ room if it’s that serious.”

He sat on his mattress and tested the softness, seemingly satisfied with it. He waved you over to sit beside him, and shockingly, you did as he asked, sitting yourself at the edge of the bed with your legs crossed. He looked all around the stunning dark blue room, complete with intricately painted curtains hanging from the windows and a quilted comforter on the bed beneath them. The ceiling was painted to mimic that of an observatory. It was actually one of your favorite rooms in the house, the observatory themed guest bed. You figured Sirius would like it as he spent a bit of time in the Astronomy tower on dates with random girls. 

“So…Your parents are always so nice,” he attempted to start a conversation, “I’m really grateful they let me stay here.”

“It’s really no problem. We have plenty of space, not to mention my mum is glad to make double the portions for Christmas dinner. She’s quite the chef,” you assured him. “She’s always asked me to have friends over for the holidays, she’s just happy you all are here.”

“What are the plans for today?”

“I was going to head to the village and get some gifts for everyone. I usually wait until the last moment, so I don’t have much time left, do I?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“What? No. I never said you were invited,” you argued, shaking your head. It was supposed to be your peaceful day out by yourself, or with Remus if he decided he wanted to go. You didn’t want to deal with Sirius Black trailing behind you flirting with everything that could breathe. Not to mention he would probably comment on all the things you picked out for everyone. “Y-You can’t come!”

“What would your mum think if she knew you weren’t being polite to your guests?” he teased, and you groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. He was right. Your mother would certainly be upset to find that you excluded one of your “friends” from the festivities on purpose. “I guess you’ll stop by to get me before you leave, then?”

“Fine. I have to go get dressed and gather a couple of my things before we leave so I’ll come by in a little bit. I still have to find out if Remus wants to come, too,” you told him, standing from the bed and smoothing down your sweatpants.”

“Alright, Darling. Don’t be too long,” he called as you walked through the doorway, pretending you didn’t hear him so you wouldn’t have to reply. Your chest tightened a bit at the term of endearment he always used rather than call you by your name. It always made your heart jump and butterflies flutter in your stomach. If only he really meant it. He was just like that with everyone, regardless of how he felt about them. 

Sirius Black didn’t like you. He was a womanizing jerk who couldn’t settle down even if someone paid him to. He was selfish and inconsiderate with other people’s feelings.

You shut the door to his room and turned down the hall to find Remus and your brother, most likely in the other spare bedroom where Remus would be staying. You approached the room across from your brother’s and knocked on the heavy wood, waiting for a reply before twisting the knob.

“Come in,” James called, and you entered, peeking your head in to see Remus shuffling through his trunk while James laid across the king sized mattress. “What’s up?”

“I was just about to head into town to get some last minute shopping done. I wanted to know  if either of you wanted to come.” 

Remus shook his head. You frowned a bit when your brother also shook his head, indicating that neither of them wanted to accompany you. Normally, you wouldn’t care if you had to go by yourself, but without Remus or your brother that meant you would be alone with Sirius, and that was most definitely not preferred.

“James and I are gonna help your mum with some Christmas baking. She’s letting us decorate the sugar cookies,” Remus told you. You were a bit jealous at that. Decorating the sugar cookies was one of you favorite Christmas activities, but you figured Remus and your brother had it covered. You nodded. “Why? Did you need someone to come with you?”

“No, I’m fine going on my own. It’s just that Sirius invited himself along and I don’t want it to just be me and him…” You sighed.

“Pads isn’t that bad. I don’t know why you insist on being so cold to him. He’s a good friend to all of us, including you,” James told you, as if you didn’t already know that. Remus nodded, and gave you a look that said all you needed to know about his opinion on the matter. Remus hadn’t forgotten about the night you broke down crying, sobbing about how you so desperately had fallen in love with the raven-haired boy and he would never feel the same way for you. 

You turned on your heel to leave the room, waving goodbye to both boys as you shut the door behind you with a soft click. You headed back down the hall to your room, pulling open the door to your closet and sifting through the rack of clothes. You eventually settled on an outfit. 

You slipped on your skirt, a sweater, heavy winter coat, and boots thick enough to endure the snow fall outside. You weren’t consciously dressing to impress, but looking over your ensemble, you wondered if you just somehow managed to pick clothes that you knew would catch the eyes of a certain someone, that being Sirius Black. You tried to convince yourself you didn’t care about his opinion, but you most definitely did. You wanted to look beautiful to him, for him to actually notice you as something other than the sister of his best friend. 

As far as you could tell, he thought of you as a sister, a younger one that he could push around and tease as he pleased.

You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for having such ridiculous thoughts. Sirius was just a friend, a close friend who you could even consider family, even if he annoyed you quite often. There was no reason to get all dressed up for him. You certainly tried to tell yourself that as you applied your eyeliner and smudged it the way you liked it. You definitely told yourself that when you put on your most shiny lip gloss that smelled like candied cherries. Just a friend.

You grabbed your wallet, shoving it into your jacket pocket before leaving your room and heading to the door beside yours. You knocked gently, hoping that maybe he might miss the sound and you could leave on your own. He didn’t though, as the door quickly opened and you were met by dark hair and eyes to match. He didn’t let you see, but his eyes scanned your figure and he gulped, swallowing down his gasp at just how well you looked in your casual clothes. 

“Are you ready, Black?” you asked, and he nodded. You started down the hallway of your home, working your way down the stairs and out the front door, waving to your father on the way. He sat in the living room, as usual, reading the Daily Prophet. Sirius waved as well, bidding a farewell to your dad politely. 

The town was only a couple minutes walk down the road from your house, so you didn’t bother apparating there. You stepped outside onto the crunchy white snow covering the ground, sighing at the feeling of the winter air blowing past your face. You loved winter. It was so beautiful, with the white covering all the trees and buildings in a winter wonderland sort of way. Christmas was your favorite holiday as well. 

“What do you plan on getting for everyone?” Sirius asked, catching up to you as you walked down the sidewalk. 

“Probably a new novel for Remus. I’ll get James some quidditch equipment, some pads or something since he’s wearing down the ones he had now,” you told him. “Maybe I’ll get my mum some new earrings. She likes pearls so probably something like that. My dad, I’m not so sure about. I’ll have to see what he likes when I get there.”

He nodded in agreement. “Anything for me?” he finally asked, and you actually laughed. He furrowed his brow and poked you in the arm. “Why is that funny?”

“Because you’re a pain in my ass, Black, and you want me to get you a Christmas present?”

“Well, that’s not very nice of you,” he said, and for a moment, you thought he might actually be a little offended. You turned your gaze to look up at him, only to see him smiling a bit with the corners of his lips. You scoffed, shoving his shoulder with your own.

“Oh, yeah, and what did you get me?” you asked him. 

“Nothing. All you deserve is coal for Christmas. Not even Santa Clause himself would bring a nasty girl like you anything.”

“You are so rude.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

The walk to town was quite peaceful actually. The two of you teased each other endlessly, but there was no real arguing, not like you would find yourselves in Hogwarts when he would flirt with everything that passed him by. He was corrigible when in a private setting like this. It almost felt like the two of you were on a date as you window shopped. 

You two even stopped at a cafe on your way around, you getting a sweet cauldron cake while he drank some butterbeer straight from the tap. 

He watched you closely as you eyed down certain displays in the windows, taking note of what you liked and what you absolutely hated. He was particularly interested when you stopped and admired a piece of jewelry, a necklace with a gold chain and setting for the heart shaped, pink stone in the center. You stared at it for longer than anything else in the entire town, and he took note of that. 

You noticed the way he admired the record store, with all the old 60’s records lining the aisles. He liked the wooden record player, saying that he’d never had one of the muggle contraptions, even though he thought they looked pretty cool. They were classy, he said, just like him. You could only roll your eyes with a smirk, finding his ego to be quite hilarious. He always acted so cocky but really he was just as insecure as the rest of you. 

You had grabbed a couple things for everyone, Remus, your brother, your parents. You considered it a productive day out as you walked back home. He carried your bags even though you told him not to. It was endearing, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you caught him in the corner of your eye looking down at you with that gentle look in his eyes, like he truly enjoyed spending his time with you, regardless of how much you complained. 

You bid him farewell when you entered the house, hurriedly grabbing your bags and rushing off to your room, locking the door behind yourself so you could throw yourself into bed, practically screaming into your pillows. Why was he so wonderful? Why did he make you feel so special, like you were the only girl that mattered in the entire world? It made you feel like shit knowing that’s probably how he went through so many girls at Hogwarts, endlessly flirting with them until they felt just like you did. 

You weren’t anything special, you thought. You were just like the dozens of other girls he’d romanced. It broke your heart.

____

Christmas morning had come, and you were ready in your pajamas that your mum provided you, saying that you had to wear them for the family photos. Personally, you felt a little old to be wearing a set of pajamas that matched those of your twin brother, but your mother insisted. You were the green and red plaid set as you left your room and headed down to the living room where the most grand Christmas stood with all the little gifts scattered beneath it. There were gifts from your parents to everyone, including your guests. 

Your brother showed up second, followed closely by Remus and Sirius, who were talking quietly with each other as they entered the room, only to shut up when they noticed you sitting there on the carpet beside the wrapped presents. You smiled so brightly Sirius thought it might blind him. 

He was quick to mock your outfit of choice though. “17 and still matching with your brother, Y/N? Aren’t you a little old for that?”

You scowled and brushed off his comment, knowing he was just being a pest for no reason. Your parents entered the room, your mother holding a plate of cookies decorated quite messily by your brother and friend. You couldn’t tell what the one you picked up was supposed to be, perhaps a stocking or a Santa hat, you weren’t sure. Not that it mattered, it tasted delicious regardless. 

You opened some of your gifts, the first one coming from your parents. A new polaroid camera that you had been asking for, wanting to take as many pictures of your friends and you during your final year at Hogwarts as possible. Remus had gotten you a new cardigan, and your brother got you some perfume he knew you were running out of. You hugged everyone after opening each gift, thanking them brightly for what they had gotten you. 

They thanked you for the gifts that you got them, even if they were last minute presents. They still loved them. It wasn’t until James was reaching further under the tree before he found a couple more boxes hiding in the low hanging branches. One was addressed to Sirius while the other, a tiny box was addressed to you. 

You picked up the last gift waiting for you under the tree, shaking it gently when you noticed it was Sirius’ handwriting. You suspected it might be a gag gift, something silly or prank-like. He didn’t say he was going to get you a gift at all, much less something meaningful. 

But then again, you said you weren’t getting anything for him either. So much for that. 

He tore open his last present, blinking when he saw what was in the box underneath. It was a beautiful, new cherrywood record player, the same one he was admiring in the village when you went to the record store earlier that week. He stared at the box, and then lifted his eyes to meet yours. You refused to look at him, far too embarrassed. He wasn’t supposed to know you were the one that bought it for him. It was addressed anonymously for that reason. 

“Y/N, I don’t know what to say,” he stumbled on his words for perhaps the first time ever since you met him. He struggled to find the right thing to say. All he could muster was a “Thank you”, staring down at his present in awe. 

Secretly, while he was off looking at records in the store, you’d asked an attendant to send the parcel through the mail to your home so you didn’t have to carry it all the way home. That way, Sirius didn’t know you bought it for him either. You wanted it to be a surprise.

“I saw you looking at it, so it only made sense to buy it for you,” you told him, trying to fight the flames threatening to rise in your cheeks. 

“Well, you should open your gift too,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as you looked down at the tiny box in your hands. You untied the ribbon on top and set that on the floor beside you. Hesitantly, you opened the box, revealing the necklace you’d been eyeing down in the store the other day, the one with the pink stone and sparkly golden chain. 

You looked at the chain for a moment, gawking at how stunning it was before lifting your eyes to meet Sirius’ gaze. You opened your mouth to say something, anything really, but no words came out. 

James whistled, peering over your shoulder at the piece of jewelry. “Wow, nice one, Pads. It’s just her style, that’s for sure,” he commented. 

“Thank you, Sirius. It’s lovely.”

“It’s nothing really. It was the only thing you really seemed to like when we went to the village together.”

But it wasn’t nothing, really. It meant everything to you as you clipped it around your neck, taking a hold of the pendant and admiring it. When you looked up, your mother was trying to get photos of the two of you, motioning for you and Sirius to sit beside each other. You couldn’t say no to your mother, so you sat beside Sirius, maintaining space between you two until she urged him to wrap and arm around your shoulders. 

You felt strange pressed to his side, smiling for the camera. It felt different, being by his side in his arms like this, as a family. For a moment, everything felt so perfect. Him holding you in his arms, your mother smiling brightly at the two of you while your father and brother watched content. Remus watched from the sidelines with that knowing smile on his face, one that made you flustered at what he was proposing behind that grin. 

You felt the same that night, when you climbed onto the roof of your house, on the old shingles. You laid back on the roof, staring up at the half moon above you with a sigh. The necklace hung from your neck, and you didn’t think you would ever take it off. It was your favorite gift you’d ever received, if you were being honest.

The window beside you opened and there he was, sticking his head out the window to find you, tilting his head to the side. “Do you always come out here?” he asked, and you nodded. 

He climbed out his window and laid down beside you on the just slightly sloped tiles, folding his arms behind his head. “What do you want?” you asked, sounding a bit harsher than you wanted. You bit your tongue from saying anything else that might come out worse than you intended. 

“Nothing, just wanted to see what little miss Y/N was doing all on her lonesome. Just watching the stars, huh?”

“It’s one of my favorite things to do, after all.”

“I forgot. You’re a total astronomy nerd.”

“I just like the stars, the way things align just perfectly.”

He hummed. You couldn’t see, staring up at the sky, but he turned his head to face you, watching your profile as if it was the most gorgeous sight he’d ever behold. He wanted to roll over and kiss you, to hold your cheek in his palm and press his lips to yours, to taste your lip gloss and the hot chocolate you drank after dinner. He wanted to brush your hair behind your ear and fall deeper into your soul. He wanted to drown in everything about you. 

The necklace he bought you looked just right around your neck, and he was happy you were still wearing it. He wanted everyone to know that you were his girl, the one that he’d given his heart to. He could care less about all those other girls when he had you, if only you were within arm’s reach. 

“Do you think the stars will ever align for you? Give you everything you dream of?” he asked.

“I think we all have to work for what we want. The stars don’t control our destiny,” you replied softly. 

He looked back at the sky with a smile across his lips, finally feeling at peace after wishing for so long that you would let him have a moment with you where you weren’t trying to argue with him or run away like you usually did. “Wise words from a wise girl.”

“Wise? We’re talking about me, not Moony,” you laughed, “I’m just as lost in life as you are, Black.”

“I might be lost, but I do know one thing. I’m glad to be here with you.”

“And I’m glad you’re here, too.”

Part Two coming soon

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

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You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

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All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

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Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

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Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

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During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

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Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

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[floatyflowers]

Sister Complex| Yandere! Oshi No Ko various x reader| Part Six

<<< Part Five

The moment you return home alone, you go straight to your room and throw yourself on top of your bed.

You have decided to return home without Aqua and Ruby, already feeling depressed.

A feeling that you have bottled inside you since ever Ai passed away.

The reason why you like the fame you get from your YouTube channel is because you are trying to fill the empty hole inside of you.

Even though Ruby and Aqua try to always put you in a good mood, and take Ai's place but that is never enough.

There is something wrong, you feel it.

While deep in thought, your phone vibrates signing that you got a new massage.

You open the phone to see who sent you the massage.

Unknown                        5:18 PM

Can I call you?

You frown in confusion, thinking whether you should answer or not.

You                                  5:19 PM

No

You strangely wait for the number to reply but instead you get a call from the private number.

Taking a deep breath, you answer.

"Didn't I say no, creep?"

The man chuckles on the other line, happy to hear your annoyed voice.

"I couldn't help myself, (Y/n)"

The way he words out the sentence...the familiar voice...he sound like someone you know.

But who?

"Who are you?"

"Your father"

The answer made you freeze in shock.

"You are lying, my father is..."

You stop speaking when you realize you know nothing about your father.

Nothing at all, whether he is dead or alive.

The phone line falls silent for what seems like an eternity, but it's only been a split second.

You want to say something, ask more questions, but you just can't seem to form any words.

Suddenly, you hear a deep inhale on the other end, like he's about to say something important.

"I know this must be hard for you to hear, especially on the phone like this."

You play with your fingers nervously, not saying a word.

"But I want you to know that I've been wanting to reach out to you for a long time. Can we meet in person?"

The thought of meeting your father for the first time is overwhelming.

"How can I believe you? Why are you even speaking to me?" you demand.

Your eyes filling up with tears.

"I saw your videos"

Hikura smirks on the other side of the phone when he hears you whimper.

"What do you think of those videos?" you inquire.

"I wish to tell you in person, let us meet at a public cafe first"

You think for a moment.

"Which cafe?"

After he gives you directions and time you will meet him, the call ends right when your siblings return.

You quickly delete the massages and the call history.

"We are back!"

Ruby announced, as she entered with the blond boy.

"Why are you so tense" Aqua asks you.

"Nothing, I just got a lot of homework to finish" you lie.

"Let us help you after we change"

You smile and nod at Ruby.

"Sure"

Once they leave the room, you let out a relief sign.

Knowing very well that what you are going to do is dangerous and stupid.

But your curiosity to meet your father is going to kill you.

Hopefully it doesn't actually kill you.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 82 (Adorable Lavender)

Lavender had her father's blue eyes and mother's hair. A wiggly infant who loved wake up time, she was a delightful, happy baby who could even tolerate tummy time longer than most.

Her excitable nature did often leave her with hiccups, but this didn't impact her digestion like her pediatrician feared it might. Even her tired cries made her parents' hearts swell. Heather and Conrad settled into a daily routine: sending Ash to school before they left for work, delivering Lavender to daycare on the way. At night, they helped Ash with his homework, spent time with the kids, and cared for their pets.

Conrad's workload at the precinct was heavy. His search for Ximena's brother did his schedule no favours, but Conrad was careful and meticulous with his cases. With young kids at home, none of his fellow detectives suspected he had any free time - let alone that he was using it to search for Rafa under the table.

More than anything, Conrad hoped it wasn't too late to get through to him. If San Myshuno PD found him first, Rafa would be sent to prison. Conrad had been the closest thing to a father-figure he'd ever had, and he couldn't help but feel, when he left Ximena, he'd left Rafa, too.

"Gord hovers so much more now that Lavender's here," Heather mused. "He doesn't even get excited about leaving for work with you in the mornings anymore."

Conrad knew why Gord didn't want to leave Heather and the kids, but he still couldn't find the right way to tell her the truth.

"Gord decides who he wants to serve and protect," he said instead, giving in to the Bernese's desire to stay home. "I can't make him chase down suspects at the station if he'd rather be here."

The longer it took to come clean, the harder it seemed to bring it up. He was grateful Ximena had stopped calling him, at least.

Ash was improving his grades and always breezed through his homework. Nancy had promised simoleons for every A grade on his report card, and the young genius was happy to work his wealthy grandmother for the extra spending money. Heather tried to object, but she couldn't stop Nancy from spoiling him.

Art was his favourite subject at this stage, and he spent hours drawing. Nancy wanted to sign him up for art classes with prestigious painters in the city, but he was happy enough with crayons at his craft table, and not quite interested in easels and paints just yet.

He was still a little unsure about his little sister, who was only moderately more interesting to him as an infant. "Lavender still doesn't do much, mommy. When will she be able to go out and play in the snow with me?"

"Not for a while yet," Heather explained. "But you were this small once, and you grew. She might even be able to hit her milestones faster if you play with her. Show her how to be a big kid like you."

Excited at the prospect, Ash was sweet with his baby sister. Lavender watched him wide-eyed and giggled at his stories about aliens and zombies and superhero princesses. But she, like her brother, liked best the one about the giving tree.

They were happy and Heather, like his coworkers, was none the wiser to Conrad's search for wanted man Rafa Bonilla. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: Lavender's third infant quirk will be revealed, but it's not apparent yet!

[rottengurlz]

Audrina Thatcher She/Her ★

She grew up with both of her parents in her life but they could never be around as much as they wanted to be. Her parents were highschool sweethearts who dropped out once they became pregnant with her. Audra is the oldest of 5 kids but she always felt like the actual parent of her household. She still loved her parents more than anything, she cared for them just as she cared for her younger siblings. Once all the kids were in bed Audra was warming dinner for her parents who had to work the late shifts because they paid more. She would have to go to school the next day exhausted, barely being able to stay awake in class. She was the one who picked up her siblings from school and helped them with their homework. She fed them, put them to bed, and each day repeated the same.  

She’s bisexual

She’s 5 foot 8 inches

She smells like Geranium scented soap

She still talks to her 4 other siblings secretly. She has 2 younger brothers named Theodore and Edward and 2 younger sisters named Rosemary and Frances. Their mom purposely named them older names because she thought they sounded smarter. She’s the closest to Theodore and talks to him every day on the phone. He’s the only person she’s been honest about her “ailment”. He was hesitant at first and thought she was losing her mind and stopped talking to her for a while. But eventually he accepted her, but he still sends her recommendations for therapists every month.

When she could still cook her favorite thing to make was Carbonara. It was the first thing she’d make when her family got food stamps at the beginning of the month and they could afford meat. Her siblings called it “fancy spaghetti”.

Her favorite color is cornflower blue

Regardless of how exhausted she was every day she had very good grades in school and was always praised by her teachers. She always wanted to go to parent teacher conferences as a kid to show off to her parents but they never had time. 

She got into college on a scholarship and was planning on getting a degree in business. She was the one who managed her family’s money and all the bills. She hoped those skills that were forced on her could actually get her somewhere in life. 

Audra worked a part time job as a waitress to help her family while she was gone. She found out from her younger brother Theodore that her parents were using the money to gamble. He didn’t want to tell her at first but he found an electricity shut off notice and was scared so he ran to the only person he knew he could trust.

She ended up dropping out of school because she was working too many hours to try and keep up with her parents spending and began failing all her classes. Losing her one chance at changing her life was the final nail in the coffin for Audra. She realized she couldn’t take care of her parents anymore and instead she needed to take care of herself since no one else ever would. She refused to move back in with her parents or give them another cent, once she told her parents that her mother slapped her across the face. That was the last time she ever saw her family.

After shoving her family into her past she did whatever she wanted, she spent her money however, slept with whoever she wanted, went to clubs, made friends, and had fun. For once in her life she was finally free, until she wasn’t.

The day she was turned she woke up in an alley with the stars lighting the sky. She was thrown into a corner, faced down like a piece of trash. She doesn’t remember much from the beginnings of her hunger besides their screams. 

After every feeding it was like she became conscious again, the world became clear, and the screams of her victims would echo through her mind. She remembered the crunch of their bones as she gripped their throat. She remembered the blood sliding down her throat and warming her belly.  She was a monster. She needed to die but she deserved a chance at living more.

She would prowl clubs, bars, casinos, anywhere with pathetic little people who would give up a little blood for a fun time. She would pick up the most desperate person she could find and take them up to a room she made sure they paid for. She would seduce them, fuck them, and then drain just enough blood so she wouldn’t kill them, rob them of everything they had in their pockets, and then kick them out. 

She met a woman named Leona at a casino bar, but Leona was different; her eyes weren’t glazed over like every other addict ruining their lives in her vicinity. She wasn’t oozing with desperation and helplessly trying to hide a wedding ring Audra would just steal anyways. Leona was alluring, her eyes blazed a fire over every inch of Audra’s skin, her plump red lips had a confident smirk like she knew all she would have to do is wave her hand and Audra would crawl right into her lap. 

Audra didn’t fuck Leona, Leona dominated her. She consumed every bit of her, and Audra was happy to give herself up on a platter. The moment the bite came Audra couldn’t stop herself from drinking her dry. Leona’s blood was intoxicating like nothing she had ever tasted before. She was watching the life drain from Leona fast, she was shaky and pale, but she didn’t pull away from her. Instead, her eyes rolled up into her skull and she was desperately pulling Audra closer to her like she was urging her to suck even more. It was like they were stars hurtling towards earth together ready to destroy anything in their path. Leona was special and Audra knew she would never be able to let her go. 

All of her clothes are stolen or bought from stolen credit cards from rich assholes she fucked. She would specially steal from dickheads who had pictures of their families hiding inside their wallets. 

She thought being a vampire could at least give her cool powers like telekinesis or mind control but all she got was a thirst for blood and to look desperately anemic. 

She loved dying her hair as a kid to every cheap hair dye color she could get her hands on. Since turning her hair no longer grows so she buys wigs now whenever she wants to changer her hair.

[wonwoosthetic]

AHHH I love the Joel x reader series, the way their relationship unfolds is chef kiss! Can we have a fic on how they met, the process they went getting to know each other specially after Sarah’s mom left him must not be easy for Joel to fall in love again so it will be nice to read how reader broke his walls down

Have a nice day 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

series masterlist

warnings - men (only stupid words, no name-calling, etc.), alcohol, cursing

word count - 11k

a/n: I didn't plan for this to become a two-parter, but I guess that's just how it goes sometimes haha. Also: this is SO long overdue, I'm so sorry, I took a break from this series, but I'm back! And there are more requests to come ˙ᵕ˙ thank you so so much for the request and your sweet and kind words🥺, I really hope you like this, and then the 2nd part that will include much more Joel x Reader content🤭 and I hope you have a wonderful day/night🤍🤍

You're Lonely. I Can Fix That. Pt. 1

1999

"Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit!" A familiar deep voice from behind you called out, catching you off guard. "If it isn't sweet lil' Y/N." With a forced smile, you turned to the left. Right away, your eyes found the one and only Tommy Miller. The infamous dark locks were still unruled on top of his head. He wore his hair slightly longer than you remembered. The cheeky grin, the entire town had come to know, was still as evident as ever plastered on his face. 

He had just made his way to the bar, where you had been occupying a barstool for the past hour.

You welcomed him with a tight smile, "Hey, Tommy." Surprising you, the older man threw an arm around your shoulder to pull you into a side hug that you reciprocated slightly awkwardly. He had caught you off-guard.

"How the hell they're lettin' you in here?" With a smirk, he took a seat right next to you, his palms brushing over the dark oak of the bartop. He definitely felt comfortable.

You held onto the drink you had been nursing ever since you got there. "I just know the right people," you teased him with a smile, making him chuckle.

"Wow, breakin' the law now too? What happened to you?" His fake gasp almost sounded too real. You joined him, giggling at his comment. "How have ya been?" He added before you could add a snarky remark to his rhetorical question.

You nodded, "Good. Busy."

"You in college now?" Tommy asked. You wondered if his Southern Accent had gotten even stronger. After not seeing you for a good two years, the younger Miller brother wasn't yet caught on to your current life.

Another nod from you, to which he smiled. "Smart girl. What 'bout your sister? How's she?" The corners of your lips curled into a smile. You just waited for that question to finally drop. Her name had to enter the conversation at some point.

"Still not interested in you." You sent him a wide grin.

He shook his head with a chuckle. "Why you gotta hurt me like that, sweetheart?" You rolled your eyes at his love for nicknames - just like you always did - minus the fake gag you used to do behind his back.

Ever since you could remember, Tommy Miller, one of town's biggest troubles and flirts, had been ogling after your older sister. She was probably the only girl who had never given in to his charming personality. At one point, you had stopped counting the calm afternoons you were sitting in your parents' restaurant, either helping out or doing your homework, getting interrupted by the distracting loud voices of Tommy and his friend group. They always chose to sit at the same booth - the one with the perfect view through the slit window into the kitchen. 

After a few months, you were convinced that they weren't visiting for the food or drinks. You had caught onto their actions. Tommy was after your sister. And knowing where to find her after school was for his benefit. Only problem: she was interested in anything, and everything, but the youngest Miller brother. It still never failed to amuse you how dedicated the boy was to get her attention in any way possible - even if it was for all the wrong reasons and probably just wanted to tick her off his list of 'girls in town I've slept with'.

And even now, years after she had left your Southern hometown, he was still thinking about her. It almost made you 'awe'.

"Where's she? I haven't seen her in forever." He interrupted your train of thought.

"Do you really wanna know?" You asked him teasingly. "I'm about to break your heart." He had to know at some point.

Over exaggerating, he placed his hand on top of his chest, holding onto the wrong side, idiot, and lowered his head. "Please do it quick."

No matter how annoying he was in the past, he was entertaining. You had to give him that. Your slight amusement was hard to conceal. "She's in New York."

Tommy looked back up at you right after those words left your lips, scrunching his eyebrows. "New York? Damn... going big, huh? What's she doin' over there?"

"Marrying a lawyer," you simply answered, leaving him with his mouth hung open as you took a sip from your drink. You almost choked on the liquid once you saw his face.

"Wow," he breathed out dramatically. "She really thinks a lawyer's gonna be better than me?" Both of you knew the answer to his question should stay muted.

You chuckled. "I convinced her that a lawyer would be better than you." 

Getting a laugh from him in return. "You little-" He reached out, ready to destroy your hairstyle with his fingers, when the two of you got interrupted.

"This man's troubling you, Y/N?" The sudden voice of your friend behind the bar caught your attention. After serving the people on the other end, she had gotten back to you, expecting to continue your conversation from before, when the man next to you caught her eye.

"Oh, this is trouble in person," you told her with a smile.

Tommy sat up straight right away, a proud grin plastered on his face. He seemed to be very proud of the title you had given him.

"That would be me." He reached out his right hand over the countertop. "Tommy," introducing himself to your friend and bartender for the night.

"Maria," she accepted his hand, shaking it briefly, locking eyes with him for a second too long. You immediately noticed the change in her gaze, making your smile drop within a split second.

She was quick to turn on her work persona, asking him for his order and turning around to snatch the two beers he had asked for out of the fridge. Of course, not without sending you an amused grin. You had to hold back the shake of your head tickling you.

While Tommy still had his ass planted onto the seat next to you, you caught a glimpse of a group of men in a booth right behind the younger Miller brother. Their stares were too hard to miss. The faces seemed familiar.

You cleared your throat. "Your friends seem nervous."

Your comment caught Tommy's attention. With a swift look behind him, he sent them a nod before turning back to you. "Eh," he brushed it off, "They'll be alright. Probably just jealous it's me sitting here with a pretty girl instead of one of them." No. Just no.

"Tommy," you warned him, turning your head to look right into his eyes, a teasing smile threatening to expose you. "No." Just as quick as he had looked up, the little glimpse of almost hope evaporated, replaced by humour as he threw his head back in laughter.

"Oh well," he slapped the countertop, "I tried." You shook your head with a soft chuckle.

Maria was back, in her hand the two cold dark bottles filled with the liquid you couldn't even smell without gagging. She put them down right in front of the Miller brother. A grin that showed her dimple, splashed on her face. You leaned back to watch.

Tommy gave her a nod with a grin, reaching back into his jeans pocket, only to be stopped by your friend.

"It's on the house."

He held still mid-move. "Oh no. No, no, I can't accept that."

Maria held out her hand. "Don't worry 'bout it."

"Nah, I can't just let a drink go on the house. I've been here way too much," Tommy argued, that shit-eating cocky grin still on his lips.

"Never when I was here." The woman behind the bar smirked. You could've sworn she was damn close to winking at him. "So, trust me, it's fine."

With a defeated sigh, the man dropped his head, shaking it with a soft chuckle as he reached for the glass bottles. "I appreciate it, thank you, sweetheart." He stood up, only to turn towards you before officially leaving you alone at the bar again. "Y/N," he called out, getting your attention, "How about joining us for the night?" He nodded towards the table, where the rest of his group was still eyeing you with clear interest. "And Maria, I don't know how long you're working today, but we won't be leavin' anytime soon, so feel free to come too."

Before she could answer, you cut into it. "Thanks, Tommy. We're good, though."

With extended arms to each side, he sent you one last grin. "The offer's open. I ain't takin' it back."

When he finally turned around to join the other three men, you sighed, pushing your barstool straight to lean forward against the countertop. You were met with the crossed arms of your friend and neighbour. A conversation was about to start.

"What?" You wondered, going back to nursing on your drink, that she had made extra sweet just for you.

"'What?'" Maria mocked you, snatching a wet towel to wipe over the wood. "A hot dude just asked you to spend some time with his extremely good-looking group of friends, and you turned him down? What the hell is wrong with you?"

You dropped the straw back into the glass to gasp at her. "I came here to spend some time with you, not to sit around with some weird ass dudes. I know about them. I'm not a fan of them."

Maria didn't grow up around the area. She didn't know about Tommy's reputation just yet. She came to Texas for college after most of them in Boston had rejected her. 

After transferring from one college in Kansas to one in your hometown, you had looked for people searching for roommates in the area, when you found Maria's flyer on the campus blackboard. One coffee date later, the two of you knew it was a match made in heaven. You had become almost inseparable ever since.

Back to her trying to set you up for no good.

She chuckled at your comment, switching to drying off some glasses her co-worker had left freshly washed on the counter. "Oh yeah, you're right. They're neither forty-plus nor one of our professors. How dare I even think you could possibly find any of them attractive?"

With an open mouth, you glared at her. "Are you judging me?" Getting only a grin and a shrug in return.

You leaned forward. "I have to pay for every single one of my drinks every time I'm here."

"Well," she put down the glass she had been cleaning, leaning in closer to your face. "You're not a hot country guy with a Southern accent." She really was that easy, huh?

You let yourself fall back slightly, arms crossed in front of your chest as you dared to take a quick glance over to the table, coincidently catching the eyes of one of Tommy's friends as he winked at you, making you almost shiver. And not in a good way.

With a shake of your head, you turned back to Maria, who had caught the quick interaction that made her chuckle.

"You know them?"

"Their faces. I know Tommy, kinda... but I have no idea who his friends are. I only know they're loud and... disgusting." After finishing your drink, you slid it over to her, with a wide smile asking her for another refill, which she accepted with a slight sigh.

"And how do you know him?" She continued interrogating you as she moved around the space to mix the alcohol and fruit juices to make your cocktail.

You raked your fingers through your hair, hoping to style it just the way you had managed to do, only hours ago when you had gotten ready in your bathroom. "He used to have the biggest crush on my sister. I mean," you stopped for a second. "Either that or she was one of the girls on his list."

"His list?" She took a quick look up at you before directing her attention back to the glass in front of her.

"His 'every girl in my year I still need to fuck' list."

Just as she passed you back your now freshly filled glass, Maria gave you an unamused glace along with it, making you chuckle.

"What? I'm serious."

"That was the name of his list?"

"Listen, maybe... maybe not. But I'm sure there was a list. I just couldn't care less what the actual title of it was." You took a quick sip. "So, don't you even dare." You pointed a strict finger at her.

"Don't I even dare what?" She wondered, teasing you because both of you knew where you were going with your thread.

"Give into his disgusting fake charisma!"

"Maybe it's real!" She fought back with a smile, earning herself a straight and monotone facial expression from you. Maria scoffed, "Oh, I'm sorry for being attracted to guys my age." You knew telling her about your crush on the humanity studies professor the two of you shared, would bite you in the ass someday. And now, she won't let it go. Ever.

"Look, at least we won't ever have to fight over a guy." You stated with a grin.

Your friend joined you with a bright smile as she pointed her finger at you, "Amen." 

You raised your glass.

With a swift move, Maria threw a fresh washcloth over her shoulder. Her gaze was fixed on the table by the wall a few feet behind you. The one Tommy and his buddies had claimed. Their loud voices were echoing through the entire bar - hollers and shouts that could not be ignored. Maria chuckled.

"You should accept his invitation." 

You had to roll your eyes. "I don't want to, thank you very much."

"What about that New Year's resolution of yours? 'Meeting new people', was it?" She teased you. Fuck, you cursed to yourself. She wasn't wrong. The new year was only about a month in, but Maria had already achieved 50% of her resolution, while you were still stuck on yours with 0%. After coming back to your hometown, you remembered most of your old friends from school (not that there had been many) had moved away just about the time you did. And no one had the nerve to come back. So, you were stuck. Stuck with having to meet new people to connect with. But that was a shadow you would have to learn to jump over. And that brings us to your New Year's resolution.

"But-" you groaned, but Maria was ready to interrupt you.

"No buts-" she pointed a strict finger at you. "And they're not even completely 'new' to you. You already know Tommy, that's a start. And that will make getting to know the other ones even easier." Her hands went back to cleaning the bar area.

"I don't even wanna get to know 'the other ones'," you mumbled under your breath, hiding your lips behind the rim of your glass.

Maria looked up. "What was that?"

"Nothing," you quickly added before ending the conversation with a sip.

You took a deep breath. You had two options to choose from. Either you continue your evening alone by the bar, sipping one cocktail after the other, with your best friend by your side whenever she wasn't focused on drunks stumbling over to the counter, lulling about which drink they'd want next. OR you could go after your resolution and try to have a good night with the random idiots you used to curse at back in your school days. You could've hit yourself over the head for even just taking the second option into consideration, but something lured you in. 

With a shake of your head, unbelieving of what your body was telling you to do, you pushed yourself away from the counter. The barstool you had been occupying scraped over the wooden floor. Before you turned around, you got a hold of your cocktail - if you were going to do this, you would not be doing it without more alcohol.

By rolling your eyes, and your attention still on the grin Maria sent you along the way, you didn't see the man you were about to run into. Strong hands on your shoulders stopped you. You definitely felt like you had just stepped on someone's toes too.

"Oh, sh-" you whipped your head around. "Sorry." Glancing up, you already found the possible softest brown eyes looking down at you.

"Sorry," the man immediately spoke up too, taking his hands off you as if your skin had burnt him.

"S-Sorry about that," you couldn't help the stutter. God, those eyes were almost bronze, you thought, Jesus, and his curls too...

"All good," he cleared his throat, "just gotta make sure you ain't runnin' someone over with a force like that." His voice was just as warm as his looks.

You almost let an awkward chuckle escape if it hadn't been for Tommy's loud voice echoing through the rumbling background noises of the bar.

"Yo, Joel! Don't forget our beers! You can flirt later!"

Joel. The man didn't even hesitate to turn around. "How about you go get your beers yourselves?" He got a round of groans in return, only for the Miller brother to stand up and jog over to the two of you. You had to catch yourself back into the present again, daydreaming about the man standing in front of you can wait.

With a sheepish grin, Tommy stopped by your side and threw an arm around your shoulder. "Y/N, is this man bothering you?"

"I should ask her that about you, don't you think?" Joel's eyes fell to his brother's hand that had pulled you in close to the side of his chest. Tommy dropped it quickly.

"You're no fun," he hissed at the man in front of you before turning around to lean against the dark wood that was separating him from the bar area.

A weird silence spread between the two of you as your eyes lost focus on the Southern man now behind you.

"I'm sorry 'bout him," the soft voice apologised. Joel's voice.

You eyed him a little closer.

His shirt was somewhat tight, yet loose enough. It seemed to have a relaxed fit, but his arms and chest were definitely worked out enough to test the stretchiness of the material. It looked comfortable. With his lazy set of dark curls, this man radiated comfort. Even his beard, which he had decided to keep at a length that made it look well-kept, but not too neat, but not completely rugged, added to the softness of his entire appearance.

With a chuckle, you ran a hand through your hair. "It's alright, I- that's how I know him. So it's- you know..."

"You know my brother?"

Brother? Joel? Joel Miller. Tommy Miller's brother. How Tommy having a brother never crossed you, was beyond you. But then again, you literally only knew about the younger Miller brother because of your sister, so no surprise that you had never heard of an older Miller brother before.

"I- well, I wouldn't say 'know'-" you started, but the familiar voice interrupted you once again.

"Oh, come on, Y/N! Don't hurt me like that!"

You swiftly turned your head around to glance at him. "Tommy- we don't know each other that well." Unless you could count the multiple times he had asked you about your sister's well-being in the past, and now present. Or the times he had caught up with you on the street and bombarded you with questions about her.

With a kiss of his tongue, he brushed off your comment. "Don't be like that." He turned his attention to Joel. "You remember Izzy? Back in my High School days. The chick from the restaurant two streets down from our school?"

"Oh, God," the older Miller shook his head as he mumbled. His fingers pressed the bridge of his nose.

"Y/N's her sister," Tommy laughed, mostly to himself. "What are the odds of us meeting here tonight, huh?" He asked into the room, turning back around to the bar, happy about the next round of alcohol. "Joel," the younger Miller nodded towards him. "These are on you." He held up the four beer bottles he carried between his fingers. Not even waiting for an answer, he walked away, getting an annoyed sigh from his brother in return, who switched places with his brother.

Tommy bumped your shoulder. "And you're coming with us. Come on."

After daring to take a quick look behind you, finding Joel handing over the money to Maria and accepting a beer for himself, you followed his brother. The table with his friends seemed to already have been waiting for you as they welcomed you, and the beers, with loud cheers. You joined Tommy on his side of the booth, as the current situation was too uncomfortable for you to sit next to one of his friends. Especially if it was the one that had winked at you before.

"Alright, guys," Tommy's voice brought you back. "This is Y/N," he introduced you before moving on to tell you the name of each man on the table. "And the man of the evening!" He called out, his arm reaching out to the figure that was coming closer to your table. "My brother, the one and only Joel Miller." Looking up, you found him already looking at you again. You quickly diverted your eyes to the dark wood underneath your hands.

"The man of the evening when he didn't even want to be here in the first place?" One of Tommy's friends commented with a scoff. Mike? Yeah, it was Mike.

Joel slit into the other side of the booth, directly opposite of you. You noticed yourself sitting up a little straighter.

"Well, not all of us are thirty and have nothing better to do than to get drunk in the middle of the week," the older Miller replied. He casually sat back, taking a sip from his beer.

Mike chuckled. "Not all of us can't ever leave the house because they had a kid when they were a teenager." 

Joel put the beer, taking a deep breath. The sudden change in atmosphere was evident to everyone at the table. Even to you. Well, this was already going great.

Tommy was quick to react. "Hey," he stopped the conversation, "I thought we agreed on no fighting today? Please, guys, come on. Get yourself together."

With your eyes on the oldest Miller brother, you could see his lips moving, mumbling something under his breath that you didn't catch, due to the loud background noises.

"Yeah, no fighting!" Trevor, you thought his name was, called out, raising the already half-empty bottle of beer in his grip. "To Tommy! Welcome home, brother."

Welcome home? Confused, you joined the table, everyone raising their glasses, clinking them all together in the middle.

Once you noticed the other side of the table had fallen into a conversation, you leaned into Tommy on your left.

"Where were you?" Your voice was too low for any of his friends to catch it, but loud enough to get the attention of the older Miller across from you too.

"Because of the 'welcome home'?" The man next to you wondered. You nodded, letting him continue. With a smirk, he put his bottle down. "Your sister didn't tell you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Tommy, she doesn't even know where you are right now, nor does she care. I can guarantee that." A chuckle from ahead of you made your head turn. You could see the smallest glimpse of a grin playing on Joel's lips as he tried to hide it by taking a sip of his beer.

"Wow," Tommy huffed out. "You're really just gonna put more and more salt into that wound, huh?" You ignored his overly dramatic comment, choosing to just continue glancing at him with a somewhat smile on your face, waiting for him to continue. He brushed a hand through his hair before giving you an answer to your question. "I was stationed in Iraq. As of last week, I'm a free man again."

You found your mouth agape. "Oh... oh shit, I had no idea." Your reaction made him chuckle. "Congrats?" Your reaction turned more into a question as you were unsure about what exactly to say to him.

"Thanks, girly," he smiled at you. "Although I am a bit offended that you didn't even notice I've been since graduation."

"Oh, please," you chuckled with a shake of your head. "But," you started again, getting a raise of his brows in return. "Now that I think about it, my mom did ask about you once."

"Really?" His eyes lit up. His reaction reminded you of a little boy being granted three wishes. You almost giggled. "What did she say?"

"Where's Danny Zuko and his entourage?" You smirked up at him. "It was around the time Izzy moved away. That's when she noticed how quiet it was without you guys."

"She called me Danny Zuko?" Tommy smiled to himself, raising one eyebrow as he glanced at you. You could already feel the greasy hand coming up to glide over his hair even before he actually did it.

From across the table, the warm yet rough voice spoke up, "Don't let it get to your head, Tommy." Joel was looking at his brother in slight amusement. You could tell he wanted to shake his head at his actions.

The younger Miller scoffed. "Don't be jealous just 'cause no one's callin' you the hottest man of the seventies." That's because Joel Miller might just be the hottest man of the century.

"Fictional man, though," you corrected him.

He gave you a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. "You bein' a smartass now?" Getting a sarcastic grin from you as an answer.

The conversation with Tommy moved more naturally than you had expected. You had been scared of awkward silences and pauses, but they had yet to happen, and you prayed they wouldn't even get an appearance this evening.

"So," a voice from the other end of the table caught your attention. "what do you do, Y/N? You lookin' a lil' young." Some of the other guys chuckled at his comment. Unessecary, but okay.

Before you could even open your mouth, Tommy spoke. "She ain't that much younger than us, Mike." Just clearing the air - you were thankful for that.

You cleared your throat, your fingers nervously intertwining underneath the table. "I'm in college."

"What are you studyin'?"

"Mathematic."

A scoff erupted from your side of the table, but on the other end, making it impossible for you to see exactly who it was from. "Mathematic? How the hell you gonna pay them bills? Doing fractions?" His rhetorical question got a round of laughter from almost the entire table. The guys continued joking about what you had just told them.

"Subtracting and adding, why the fuck would there even be a course for that?" Well, I bet you can't even calculate the tip you should give waiters.

"Everyone with a degree in math can't be anywhere else but in an office. What a life." A life where they earn more money than you, most likely.

"You also had those smartass kids at school that were good at math for no reason? Always hated them. So annoying, I swear to God." At least I was never crying at the dinner table with my dad trying to explain my homework to me.

You decided to stay quiet and let yourself fall back into the leather cushions behind your back. With a soft sigh, you brought your glass up to your lips, taking two sips of your cocktail. You didn't have the energy nor the need to speak up against them. You didn't know what their occupation was. And neither did you care. You're focused on yourself. You had to listen to far too many joking comments about your choice of degree to give a flying fuck about them anymore.

Your eyes wandered around the room before Joel's voice suddenly brought you back.

"What do you wanna do with that degree?" His question surprised you. Your eyes stopped at his face. Even in the dimlit bar, you could still make out his soft features. His coarse voice sent a chill through your entire body - a good chill though. The kind of chill you get after putting the first foot into a hot bath. That was Joel Miller's voice. Warmth. Pure warmth.

You put your glass down, pressing your lips together for a quick second. Looking up at him, his gaze was already on you, patiently waiting for your answer.

"I- ehm," you wiped your hands down your jeans. They weren't wet, you were just nervous, apparently. "I'm not sure yet. If possible, I would really like to get a Master's in STEM too, but..." you trailed off, not about to spill your entire life story to a, technically, stranger. "We'll see."

Joel nodded. His gaze never left you, following each word that fell from your lips. "And," he continued, "what could you do with a Mathematic degree?"

"Oh, a lot," you spoke up. You could feel yourself sitting up straighter, your hands back on top of the table. "A lot of people become financial advisors for companies. Or statisticians... ehm... I could also obviously become just a Math professor," you shrugged. "Most things are office jobs, though."

Joel had a soft smile on his lips, that only made you feel the heat in your cheeks spreading with each second. You hoped the lack of light in the room hid it well.

While you had added that last comment as a validation of most people's thoughts of the jobs you had mentioned being 'boring', you were surprised by his reply.

"So you'll have an easy life, at least. While also making quite a good amount of money. That's the smartest way to live if you ask me." Exactly.

The older Miller surprised you. He seemed to have taken in everything you had told him, giving you fitting answers. All while the men next to you had moved on to the degree they had claimed as 'useless' - Engish Literature. 

"Very smart of you," he added at last. You almost caught yourself giggling as the corners of your lips curled up, your hands still stuck together.

"Thanks," you could only mumble. Get yourself together. Not wanting the conversation to end, you brushed some hair that had fallen into your sight away from your face. "And what do you do? Work wise."

Joel had started picking at the label of his beer bottle, snatching his fingers off it as soon as your question hit his ear.

"I'm a contractor," he told you. Impressive.

You nodded along. "Wow... that's- you know, not an easy job."

He smiled at your comment, ducking his head slightly. You found it almost endearing in a way. "Well," his hand came up to hold onto his neck. "Much easier than studying math, I can tell ya that much."

"No," an awkward chuckle escaped your lips as you crossed your arms on top of the table. "I meant like physically."

To that he tilted his head, nodding slightly in agreement, his hand wrapped perfectly around the beer bottle again. "Guess you're right about that, yeah. I already started praying for my back and knees." He took a sip to end his statement.

You wanted to ask about the kid they had mentioned. God, you were so curious. Something about him seemed so intriguing and you had already figured out that you were most definitely captivated by his warmth. The attention he had praised you with, whether it was out of politeness or not, had only added to your fascination with the man in front of you.

Tommy's loud holler right next to you made your head snap as you found the guys cheering on one of their friends as he held two beer bottles to his lips and tilted his head back to down it all in one go. What an achievement.

In your mind, you shook your head. That New Year's resolution can wait, you decided.

Just as you were about to take another sip of your glass, you noticed the lightness of it, looking down to find it empty already. You couldn't recall ever finishing it, which was already probably not a good sign. Without a word, you got up from your seat, your glass in your grip. You made your way back to the bar, the seat you had occupied earlier was already waiting for you.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maria caught your form coming closer, making her turn towards you, a glass of beer in her hands that she was about to give a waiting guest.

"You want a refill?" She wondered as soon as you had leaned against the counter, sitting yourself down on the wooden barstool.

You shook your head. "No, I'm good for tonight."

"What?" She called out in shock, stopping right in front of you as she took your glass. "Already? Are you okay?" You only nodded. For a second, she let her eyes wander across your face, choosing to refill the cup with water and slide it over back to you. "Drink that, you'll need it."

"Thanks," you mumbled. "But I'm fine, really. Just... tired."

Maria obviously didn't believe you. The time you had spent together let her get to know you better than you had wanted.

"Really just tired?"

You wanted to respond to her and had already opened your mouth, but a deep voice from the backroom that was only accessible from behind the bar called out.

"Maria, get you-!"

"Not now, Steven!" She shouted back, her eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. You chuckled. Steven... one of the newbies of the bar's staff, but because of his apparently previous work experience as a barista he thought of himself much higher than most of the employees - at least that's what Maria had ranted about after each shift she had with him. With angry steps, he busted through the door, his eyes immediately on your best friend.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" His voice was filled with rage, making you sit up just a bit straighter.

But Maria wasn't that easily intimidated, especially not by a man the same height as her and two years younger.

"Helping a customer, you idiot. We're here together, so do your goddamn job and stop hiding in the backroom," she snarled back at him. With a huff and a shake of his head, he turned around towards the two girls who had been waiting by the bar.

"I'm telling you, I'm gonna get fired soon," she mumbled under her breath, but clear enough for you to hear her.

You shook your head in amusement. "You're not gonna quit?"

"I won't have the patience to do that. They'll fire me because I swear to God, I'm so close to fucking beat him up." With a deep breath, she collected herself again and leaned forward, her hands on the bar top. "Now," she looked up at you. "You're tired? Of?" Of course, she knew you weren't actually physically tired.

"Drunk unfunny men," you told her as your eyes followed your fingertips that were tracing each line of the wood underneath your palms.

A whistle sound from somewhere next to you caught both of your attention.

Maria rolled her eyes. "Yeah, tell me about it," before having to leave you to serve the man who had called after her. He was already waiting for her with a smirk on his lips.

You accepted the glass of water she had left with you and downed the entire content of it quickly. Before you could even stand up to finally leave, a figure suddenly appeared to your left and blocked your way. Just as you were about to complain, not in the mood for yet another stupid comment dropping from a man's mouth, you looked up.

Joel again. He noticed your movement.

"Oh- sorry, did you wanna go back?" He motioned with his hand past him and took a step back, but only a small one because of the barstool behind him.

You shook your head with a smile. "Eh- no, no... I-"

"Another one for you?" Maria suddenly appeared again. She pointed at the empty beer bottle Joel had put down. Her eyes quickly raked over both of your faces.

He motioned a polite no to her. "Thank you, but... that's gonna be it for tonight."

"You too?" She wondered, her head nodding towards you. "What's going on with you two? Why so boring today?" A soft smirk had made its way onto her face.

With a confused facial expression, you stared at her.

The older Miller chuckled, "'m sorry. But ehm... I got a lil' girl at home. Promised her not to stay out for too long, so I gotta get back."

Maria took the empty bottle off the counter. "A good dad, I see. I respect that," she nodded.

While she was occupied with some new dirty glasses Steven had placed in front of her, Jeol turned his attention back to you.

"Sorry, what were about to say?" He asked you. "You're gonna go back?" You shook your head again, nervously you had also subconsciously started playing with your fingers again.

"No, I... I think that was enough of Tommy Miller and his friends for me."

"Yeah," he sighed, letting himself sit down on the barstool next to you. "I-" he started again but stopped himself, the tips of his fingers tapping on the wood. His hands were beautiful, you noticed. Strong. Thick-

Maybe it was the three glasses of alcohol you had in your system but you could've sworn Joel Miller was glowing in the dim light of the bar. His skin was radiating gold specs and even his hair seemed to be more than just plain brown. It was deep, auburn and soft. And his curls, good God...

Your heart rate had slightly picked up now that it was only the two of you.

Joel nodded. "I get that. They can be a bit much sometimes. I'm sorry."

"It's alright," you chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, thinking about what to say next. 

The silence took over the both of you for a good few seconds. Both pairs of eyes fixed on anything but each other. You took a deep breath, followed by Joel doing the same. Silence can be so unbearable sometimes...

"So," he started again. "You're gonna stay here?" 

You gulped. "Y-Yeah, yeah... I... I'm just gonna wait for Maria, we live to-"

"Oh no, girl," your best friend suddenly jumped in. "Tonight's gonna be late. With Steven here, I don't know when I'll be done." She turned to Joel. "My co-worker's an asshole that doesn't know how to do his job, so...," she shrugged.

The oldest Miller chuckled and nodded, amused at her choice of words.

"It's fine, I'll just... wait," you argued, but she was having none of it, waving her hand in front of your face.

"No, no, you should get home. You said you're leaving?" She asked the man next to you, catching him off-guard with her question.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna go now."

"Well, that's convenient. Would you mind... maybe, taking her with you?" Your best friend nudged her head towards you.

"Maria!" You shout-whispered.

But Joel just casually nodded. "Sure." And stood up immediately.

"No," you stopped him. "It's fine, really-"

"Y/N," she interrupted you again, "you really should get home." Maria raised her eyebrows at you. "You got that thing tomorrow."

"What thing?" You asked her with a tight smile on her lips.

"You know... the thing. That you need to be well-rested for."

"Maria-"

"Can I trust that you get her home safe?" She ignored you, turning to Joel. A big grin and awaiting eyes on her face.

He nodded politely. "Yes, ma'am, I promise."

"Ma'am?" She gasped with a smile, "Oh, I trust you a lot." After exchanging looks with the Miller brother, she turned back to you, slapping your hands off the counter with the washcloth she had been holding. "Now get your ass out of the bar."

Your eyes kept following her as she continued to take a step back. Followed by another step. Her hands motioned for you to leave once again, making you shake your head and Joel next to you chuckle.

With a soft sigh, you stood up.

"You good to go?" He asked you, making you look up at him with a somewhat forced smile.

"Yeah."

He opened his palm, letting you walk ahead first. After thanking your best friend for the drinks, he joined your steps but kept walking behind you. You only came to a halt as you passed Tommy's table and only because Joel spoke up. If it had been just you, you would've continued to just pass them, they wouldn't have noticed it anyway.

"We're gonna head out," he told the table, his hand tightly on his brother's shoulder.

"We?" Tommy asked, turning his body just a bit to find you a few steps next to Joel. "You're goin' together?"

"I'm gonna get her home," he nodded.

A round of hollers erupted from the rest of the guys, taking you by surprise. "GET IT, MILLER!"

"Shut the fuck up, Mike," the older Miller was quick to argue back, clearly annoyed by their reaction.

Tommy laughed, "Don't mind him, brother, he's just jealous. Right, Mike?" The rest of the group joined in, starting by teasing and poking their friend, who was the same guy that had raked his eyes up and down your body back when you were still sitting by the bar. Wonderful...

Joel only rolled his eyes. "Anyways, we're goin' now." That made his younger brother suddenly stand up and walk over to you, his arms opened wide. Before you could react, you were engulfed in a tight hug. You were only able to awkwardly pat his back with one hand.

"It was great seeing you again, sweetheart," he let you know, freeing you again, and taking a step back. "Maybe we'll see each other again."

"Yeah," you could only let out an awkward smile, "maybe." With one last pat on your upper arm, he turned to his brother, doing the same thing to his arm before joining the rest of his friend group at the table again.

With no last words, Joel continued his walk straight ahead, coming to another stop right by the door, where the hooks that had been drilled into the walls were holding the outerwear of each visitor.

"You left a coat here or somethin'?" He asked you.

You nodded and pointed. "The beige one on the right."

He got it off the hook for you and opened it for you. Slightly taken aback by his kind gesture, you thanked him with a surprised tone and turned around to get your right arm into the coat first. He helped you with your left arm as well and only turned back to the hangers to get his own jacket. You waited patiently for him before walking over towards the door, pushing it open and holding it, making sure he got through it as well. As soon as the wind of the cold January air outside hit you, you pulled your coat tighter around you, cursing at yourself for not taking a scarf with you as well.

Joel walked past you, putting on his jacket just then. You noticed he was walking towards a specific direction, clearly to where he had parked his car, but you wanted to stop him. So you did.

"You know, you really don't have to." Your voice made him turn around. "I don't know what the hell Maria was talking about. A-And you don't me that well- and I obviously don't know you either. And I totally understand if you just want to get home quickly. You really don't have to bring me home too. I'm fine with just taking the bus-"

Joel couldn't help but be amused at your sudden rambling. He chuckled at you. "The last bus probably already left. And I really don't mind." With a few steps, he came closer, stopping to keep a comfortable distance between the two of you. "Plus," he looked around for a second before locking gazes with you again, "I promised Maria that I'd get you home, so... can't break that, you know?"

For a second you just looked at him. You noticed you were wrong. It wasn't just the dim lighting in the bar. Even with the almost freezing, for Texas, temperatures outside, he still managed to look incredible. His hair still looked as soft as before and his skin was still glistening golden. You knew exactly what Maria had tried to do. She knew it. Joel was the embodiment of your type.

-

He drove a truck. Of course he did. It fit him perfectly.

The car ride turned out to be less awkward than you had imagined it would be. Thank God. Joel had turned on the radio, giving the entire situation a calming background sound while the two of you talked about your days. He had started it. 

Joel asked you about what you were doing in the bar in the first place and how you had known Maria, commenting on your relationship with, 'You two seem very close'. So your story about how you had moved away for college and came back only a few months ago started. He continued to listen to you attentively, nodding along to each word you spoke, giving you a comment here and there, but choosing to stay quiet for most of the time and let you tell your story. After you were finished, another moment of silence washed over you. So you decided to change the subject.

"You said you got a little girl at home?" You remembered the stupid comment one of Tommy's friends had dropped - you had already forgotten his name. And his answer to Maria's question hadn't left your mind ever since it came from his lips.

With your eyes on his side profile, you could see the slight curl of his lips. 

"Yeah... I- I got a daughter," he took a deep breath. "Sarah."

You nodded. It warmed your heart the way he started speaking oh so softly.

"How old is she?" You wanted to continue the conversation, noticing the fond look on his face while he was concentrating on the street after you had given him your address, and he told you he knew the way since he had been in that area for work before.

"9. Her birthday‘s in August." You almost chuckled at his added comment, to let you know that her birthday was in the Summer. It was small but sweet.

There was another question burning the tip of your tongue, begging to be let out, but you knew that it was in no way your business to be asking that question. Yet, you were still intrigued about... her mother? As if he could read your mind, Joel continued.

"And I told her I wouldn't stay out too long. It's a school night, so I gotta get her out of bed early in the morning." So...? Single father? No, maybe his partner is on a business trip, who knows...

"Understandable," you nodded, swallowing down the other question and ignoring the voice repeating it inside your head. You couldn't help it. As much as you would've wanted to keep your thoughts sane, it was close to impossible when the man next to you was as attractive as Joel Miller. You had only met him a mere hours ago, yet he was able to captivate you in such a short period. Damn his looks and kind attention when you're speaking.

The rest of the relatively short car ride the two of you spent in mostly silence. Neither one of you wanted to come off as too strong and ask too many questions that might suddenly feel too personal. So you decided to stay quiet. Even though several questions were bubbling up deep inside you - it wasn't much different for Joel.

He brought the car to a halt right in front of your block. You glanced at him.

"Thank you." He was already smiling at you. "You- you really didn't have to, but... thanks."

He nodded, "My pleasure. Better stepping into the car of a stranger than taking a taxi, right?"

"Right," you chuckled, reaching out for the handle to push the door open. With one foot out in the cold again, you turned towards him for one last time. "Good night, Joel."

"Night, Y/N." He copied your sweet goodbye wave after you had closed the door and headed over to the entrance door. Only when you had gotten safe inside the building, Joel started to drive away.

"Stepping into the car of a stranger and a taxi is the same fucking thing, you idiot," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head in disappointment at his own misery. But at least it made you laugh.

-

You were finished with taking off your make-up and your skincare routine and had switched out your outside clothing for some comfortable pyjama pants and an old shirt you had kept from the musical production your High School had put up. The entire time you had spent in the bathroom, your mind had been anywhere but in the same room as you. You couldn't stop thinking about him. His voice. His side-profile. His lips. His hair- God... his curls. You shouldn't. You knew you shouldn't think of him that much. For fuck's sake, you had only met the man a few hours ago and suddenly he was occupying your mind more than what was then playing on the TV in front of you.

Your eyes switched to the clock Maria had put up on the wall to your left. It didn't fit the rest of the furniture even a bit. But she had found it at a garden sale and got it 'for a good deal', you remember her saying. The place needed a clock though and in that moment, you were thankful that you had one.

11:30 pm here, so 00:30 in the morning in New York.

Knowing your sister, she was probably still up and wouldn't go to sleep until closer to 2, or even past that - that girl needed to figure out her sleep schedule, but that was her worry and not yours. You only benefited from it. 

With a big deep breath in, you pushed yourself off the couch and stumped over into the hallway to fish your phone out of your coat's pocket. Maybe she was actually still awake.

You clicked through your address list until your eyes fell on Izzy's number and you pressed to call her. Your feet took your back into the living room, letting you fall onto the cushion again.

It only took a few rings before you heard her voice.

"Hello? Are you okay?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, I am. Hi"

"Hey, how are you?"

After you had gotten through the casual formalities and explained to her what you were doing right now and why you had to call her, you were finally able to drop your first question.

"You remember Tommy Miller?"

A groan from the other line made you giggle. "Oh God... yes, why?"

"Did you know he has a brother?" You wondered.

"Ye-" she gasped, "YES, I do know! Omg yes, of course. Joel, I think his name was."

"Yeah, it is."

"Mm," Izzy hummed. You could hear the smile on her lips through her voice. "He was... Jesus Christ, he was handsome."

You laughed at her reaction. "He still is, to be honest."

"IS HE?!" She almost shouted into the speaker before remembering to keep her voice down as her husband was sleeping only a few rooms away from her.

"Yup, I met him today," you told her.

Another giggle came from her. "Ooooh, how?"

"Tommy was in the bar Maria works at, and he asked me to join him and his friends at a table, and his brother joined in too."

"Aah, okay okay," she nodded her head even though you couldn't see her. "And?"

You sighed, standing up to walk over into the kitchen. "And now I wanted to call you and ask you what you know about him." Your fingers brushed over the counter that desperately needed to be cleaned - you made a mental note.

"To be honest, not that much. He was neither a jock or a nerd or something like that, you know? Just... a guy... a really attractive one though. And he was... I don't know, like... two... three years above me, I think?" You listened to her talk while your eyes raked over the pantry, hoping to find something to snack on before you'd go to bed.

"OH-" She suddenly raised her voice, making you have to pull your phone away from your ear. "He was also a singer." Well, that caught your attention.

"A singer?"

"Yeah," she giggled. "Like a really good one, actually. That's why a lot of girls liked him. He played something on his guitar during one of our musicals. I don't remember which one, though." A singer...

"Interesting," you smirked to yourself at the new information. Plus the fact that you had found the last bits of your favourite chips package in the very back of the pantry.

She hummed in agreement. You could hear shuffling in the background but ignored it. "And," Izzy started again. "There was a rumour about him, but... I don't know if that's true."

"What rumour?"

"Apparently," she made sure to use a different tone with the first word, letting you know that it truly was only a rumour she had been confronted with. "Later in college, he got his high school sweetheart pregnant. When they were like 19 or 20. And that's why she dropped out. But I don't know how true that is."

'Not all of us can't ever leave the house because they had a kid when they were a teenager', you remembered the comment that came from one of Tommy's friends.

If he was two or three years older than your sister... and his daughter is 9... 

A rumour... possibly not so much.

"Yeah, I don't think that's a rumour."

"What?!" She gasped. "Seriously?!"

Back on the sofa, you put your hand into the pack of chips and took one out to put into your mouth. "He told me about his daughter. She's nine, so that would work if he had her around 20."

"I don't know, that's too much math for me, but if you say so, I believe you," she rambled before taking a deep breath again. "Wow... I never believed that. He didn't seem like the guy something like that would happen to... especially not in Texas, Jesus... But wait..."

"What?" You wondered with a full mouth after deciding that instead of one, five chips at once sounded much better.

"So, did he really leave his girlfriend, though?"

"Huh?" You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion.

"Some people back then said that they broke up after finding out she was pregnant. Is that true?"

You waited for a second. "Ehm... I don't know, maybe. But the daughter's with him."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," you swallowed down the content in your mouth before taking two chips again. "He said he'll have to wake her up in the morning because of school."

"Aww," Izzy giggled, "That's cute. Didn't think he'd keep her. Where's the mom then?"

"You know, I originally wanted to ask you all of those questions," you chuckled at the situation, your sister joining in.

"Sorry, I don't remember much else. Like I said, he was older than us, so... yeah." A moment of silence divided you two, only shuffling on her side and crunches from your side filled the phone line. Izzy was the first to break it. "But... do you remember Abigail? I think she had like History with him... I could ask her if you want."

"No," you brushed off her question, "it's not THAT important. I just... wanted to see what you'd know about him."

"Mm," a somewhat sad hum came from her. "A bit nosey, are you?"

You chuckled, "I mean," feeling your cheeks getting slightly warmer than before, "he IS really handsome. And he was really... attentive at the bar."

"You don't care about the age?" She wondered.

You scrunched your eyebrows, deciding you had enough of the chips you remembered to be much better than they actually were. "He's only like 31. That's not that much older."

"Maybe not in your eyes."

"And why would I care about anyone else's?" You asked her, throwing the colourful package onto the coffee table in front of you. "And even- I just- I only wanted to know a few things about him. I don't even know if I, you know... want something from him. Maybe he's got a new girlfriend right now, who knows."

"Okay, but I'm not saying you should throw yourself at him, you idiot," your sister chuckled. "Just... kinda like tiptoe towards him and see where things go. You're pretty, he's handsome, from what I can remember, so it can't hurt."

"Yeah... we'll see... It's very unlikely that I'll ever see him again even-" you stopped yourself for a second before mumbling, "Maybe in the bar again, actually... I don't know."

The next words of your sister went past your attention span as the front door opened. You shot up from your spot in the living room and walked over into the hallway, an already smirking Maria glancing right at you.

"Y/N?" Izzy's voice repeated your name a second time before you caught it.

"Yeah? Sorry, what did you say?" you apologised, motioning frantically for your best friend to take off her shoes and sit down on the couch.

Your sister chortled softly on the other end of the line. "It's alright. I just said I gotta go. I gotta get up earlier than usual tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," you pulled your friend by her arm just as she tried to escape into her room. "Thank you for the info, and I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

"Alright, bye," she sang into the phone.

"Bye," you quickly ended the call, flipping your phone closed and throwing it onto one of the cushions.

Maria fell onto the couch with a giggle.

"What the fuck was that?" You snapped at her. "Yeah, it's really late, Maria, you were right."You looked down at your imaginary watch on your wrist before staring at her with raised eyebrows. "It was very necessary that Joel drove me home." 

"You are very welcome," she leaned back into the backrest with a smug smile on her lips. "How was the drive?"

"How was-?! How do you think it was?!" You continued to stand right in front of her, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Honestly," she started with a deep breath, taking the pack of chips from the coffee table into her grip, "going off of the looks you two gave each other, I'm gonna be very surprised if you tell you you didn't do it on the backseat of his car."

You closed your eyes for a moment and pressed your lips together, trying to hold back a burst of laughter that was about to spill. After finding her gaze again, you answered her. "We didn't do it on the backseat of his car."

"What?!" She shouted out. "Are you kiddin' me?! That's disappointing." And shook her head before popping a chip into her mouth.

With a shake of your own head, you made yourself comfortable on one of the single chairs you had placed right next to the sofa.

"I swear to God, that man was eye-fucking you."

"Jesus," you chuckled, a hand brushing over your face and rubbing your eyes.

"No, really. I mean, he was doing it respectfully, which kinda confused me, not gonna lie. But he still looked at you a little too hot and bothered. And girl," her smirk only grew when she eyed you closely, "I thought you were about to lick his skin the way you were looking at him."

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. With a loud chortle, you leaned forward, hiding your face behind your hands. Maria joined you.

"I'm serious!" She laughed out loud.

You looked up at her. Your face now clear red as you realised you got caught, "I mean... I wanted to."

"I knew it!" She jumped up, throwing the package of chips into your lap. "I knew it! You ain't sly, girly!"

For a few moments longer, the two of you shared rounds of giggles before you could catch yourself again and sat back down normally.

"Yeah, well..." you shrugged, brushing some hair out of your face.

Maria snatched the chips package back again. "Then why not in his car?"

"Ths situation wasn't like that. We... we talked. I honestly didn't think that he was even looking at me the way you just described it," chuckling again at the memory of the words she had chosen.

"Yeah, well... I've seen enough men at bars and how they look at women, so... yeah," she shook her head slightly. "He did it exactly like that, just, like I said, with... a little bit more respect- I don't know how to explain it."

"It's okay," you giggled, stopping her by showing her the palm of your hand.

After she finished the rest of the chips, she threw the now empty package next to her onto the sofa, the thought of the last bits of crumbles possibly falling between the seat cushions made you shiver.

"So, how was the drive? Seriously."

You shrugged. "It was good. We had a nice conversation. I talked about college, he talked about his daughter-"

"Listen, I'm not one for dads. But..."

"Hot." You ended the sentence for her.

"So hot," she agreed with you, biting down on her lip. "He really is quite attractive."

You nodded along with her before speaking up again, "I called my sister just now," nudging your head towards the flip phone you had thrown onto the couch. "And asked her about him because they went to school together-"

"And?"

"Not much else. She doesn't really know a lot about him. Just that he used to sing apparently, and... he's a young dad."

"What about the mother of the kid?"

You could only shrug again. "No clue. Izzy said that the rumour is- or, there was a rumour that he left the girl that he got pregnant in college. BUT... he said that he needs to get up early because of her school tomorrow... so, I'm confused."

"Maybe... he got another kid? So not the kid from the pregnant High School girl, but from someone a little later?" She wondered out loud.

No, you had done the math correctly. "Very unlikely. Because Izzy's 27 now. And she said Joel was about two or three years above her, which would make him around 30 now. And in the car, he told me that his daughter is turning 10 this year. If we're going just by estimations, it would work that he had her around 20 and not going to college because of it. I doubt that he left his high school sweetheart that he got pregnant at 20, only to keep the kid he got from another woman when he was 21. I mean- everything's possible, but I doubt it."

Maria blinked at you. Twice. "You're confusing me with your calculations, but damn... you really thought a lot about that, huh?"

You let your head fall back with a chuckle. "I had some time, yeah." Then a groan echoed through the room. "Ugh, but I don't even know if or when I'd be able to see him again."

"But you know Tommy, maybe he can help," Maria tried to explain, but you glared at her with an unamused facial expression.

"I'm not gonna ask him to tell me where his brother is or to give me his number, Maria."

She looked at you with a somewhat surprised look, before standing up and raising her hands in defence. "I'm just trying to help you here, okay?"

"Yeah I know, but he could also be in a relationship for all we know."

"Not with the way-"

"He was looking at me, I know, I know, blah blah blah-" A sudden cushion that was thrown at your face made you shut your mouth. You were about to argue back, but Maria beat you to it, pointing a strict finger at you, while her other hand had made a ball out of the chips package.

"Don't 'blah blah blah' me." 

You chuckled at her reaction. She scoffed as she turned towards the kitchen.

Just as you thought the conversation was over and she was on her way out, she stopped to take a quick look at you.

"I think that if he was a real gentleman and if the looks he gave you were real, he'll find a way to contact you. It's a small town, it can't be that hard." With her last statement, she exited the room, leaving you sunken into the armchair.

If, if, if...

What if you could find a way to contact him?

Part 2

joel taglist: @corvusmorte @aniia-x3

pedro taglist: @leslieelainetrask

[yandere-paramour]

Alright, questions about Noelle. What does she look like? Who is she attracted to? Does she have any hobbies? Does she enjoy animals?

Meet Noelle!

Noelle is a no-nonsense lesbian assistant to the Montclair heir, Atalanta, meaning she spends her days dealing with Atalanta's bullshit 24/7.

She can be called at any time, any day of the year, and will have to respond to whatever foolishness Atalanta wants. She'll even pick up and work when she's sick or injured.

Noelle is one of the only people Atalanta considers a true friend, and as a result, can speak informally and give advice to Atalanta when they are in private.

Because of this, she is also called upon to sometimes babysit/accompany Atalanta's Darling or even accompany Jamie places (if his manservant is busy).

Noelle knows all the intricate details of Atalanta's life and relationships. If Atalanta needs a new strap because the current one isn't "ribbed for her pleasure," Noelle is going to research the best brands, buy it, and have it delivered to the penthouse. And probably ask Atalanta how it went and if she should get one too.

Noelle's favorite color is ice blue.

Her apartment is decorated with ice blue and grey, and she keeps it spotless. She gets really agitated if her apartment is dirty.

Noelle is 25 years old.

She is 5'4" and hates it.

Noelle is a virgin.

Ever since she was a child, she has always had the drive to go FAST. So, nobody knows this about her, but on her days off, she likes to ride her motorcycle (her one vice) recreationally.

Because she works so much, she is pretty bad at taking care of herself. She doesn't sleep much, and only eats microwaved/frozen foods, what she can order in, or just outright skips a meal and sleeps. Because of this, she is extremely small, almost underweight, and gets cold very easily.

She grew up very poor and worked hard enough to send herself to college and get this job. She has crawled up from the bottom rung of society and will die before she gives up her 6 figure salary.

School was everything to her as a child. It was a place with heat, food, and no little sisters to take care of. Noelle was always a few years ahead of her grade in school because she did homework with her older sister, but they never skipped her grade because it wasn't that kind of school. So she occupied herself with other pursuits, like computers at the public library and reading. She eventually got a full ride to college and broke the cycle.

When she made it to college, she took more classes in both business and computer science and further refined her already impressive hacking and online skills that she uses a lot at her job.

Noelle has a mother, one older sister, and three younger sisters. She has no father and never needed one. She is estranged from her mother but still speaks and sometimes helps out her younger sisters who are teenagers. Her favorite sister is Odette, the oldest who is 28.

Odette also pierced her ears for her.

She hates cigarettes because her mother smokes. She doesn't drink either.

Because of her pale and delicate skin, Noelle is a skincare enthusiast. There is always sunscreen and moisturizer in her purse. She had sunburns constantly when she was young and she's tired of it.

Her hair is another luxury for her. She had to have short hair as a child because it was difficult to take care of, but now that she's an adult, she can grow it as long as she wants. It is currently halfway down her back, but she keeps it in a bun at work. Touch her hair and she might punch you.

With her lover, Noelle is extremely manipulative. She will do anything to improve your perception of her, including drugging you, threatening the people around you, and digitally changing online records.

She starts with stalking you. With Atalanta's connections and her own computer skills, she can easily follow you using street cameras and the ones in your home. She'll move your things around, make you worried someone is following you so you'll run right to your girlfriend's arms. She's the only one you can turn to, the only one you can trust.

When you're around her, she's always rubbing and caressing you, praising you, getting you to associate her with good feelings so when you're away, it always feels like something's missing.

In her small bits of free time, Noelle likes to do yoga, indulge in computer science, and do number puzzles.

Noelle only likes one animal: her Russian blue cat, Sasha. She generally associates animals with filthiness because of her childhood, but she found Sasha alone in a dumpster, starving and dirty, as a kitten, and it reminded her of herself, so she took pity on him and took him in.

Noelle does not want kids. She's raised enough little bastards for one life.

Noelle is practical, logical, and sensible, and what she says, goes. There is no arguing with Noelle, and sometimes her analytical sense of reasoning can feel callous and mean, but she doesn't always mean it that way.

Although she is usually physically in the office with Atalanta, she is sometimes permitted to work from home, provided she stays on call and keeps her phone nearby and charged at all times.

She gets along okay with coworkers, but she does not consider them friends. Except Ata. She considers her a friend.

Noells's job is mainly composed of her keeping blackmail on file, scheduling meetings, planning Atalanta's weekly and daily schedules, prepping and scheduling travel plans, itineraries, and agendas when needed, filing paperwork, doing background checks and compiling resumes for new hires, composing and preparing confidential correspondence (contacting the crime boss Ata uses), and delegating tasks given to her by Ata.

She likes to take relaxing baths, would inject iced coffee into her veins, and prefers fresh and clean scents.

What would make her soft is when she gets home from work and she's tired and stressed and burnt out, but you made her a relaxing dinner, and then you try to release her tension with orgasm after orgasm. Someone taking care of her and showing her that level of concern makes her want to cry, and she never cries.

Noelle has participated in street fights. There is a scar on her stomach that looks suspiciously like a knife would but she doesn't talk about it.

Noelle will do whatever it takes to survive. Don't ever forget that.

Cute kid, right? Don't be fooled, she'll charm you out of your rent money in a second.

[my-great-big-book-of-fan-fiction]

Gojo satoru x F!reader fic in which you and Megumi interact after his "adoption"

You guys I know Gojo's more like a mentor to Megumi in cannon, but pls pls pls just let me have this, I'll give you good vibes for a week if you do 😭 Also, Satoru is more like a side character in this one, sorry babes.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, some cursing, good feels

The walk home with Gojo was...interesting. No, scratch that. Annoying. Megumi could do nothing but listen to him talk and talk and talk, to the point that he wished he was getting sold to the Zenin clan.

"Man, you're boring for a 1st grader, huh? What are you, like 8?"

"I'm 6."

"Rightttt....most serious 6-year old I've ever met."

coming from him? Megumi liked that. Whoever Gojo found entertaining had to be crazy.

"You know, my usagi-chan is gonna looove to meet you,"

"Usagi-chan?" He stretched out the pet name, a confused and judgmental tone in his voice. What kind of parent names their kid "little bunny"?

Gojo beamed, holding his hand out and counting on his fingers all the things he liked about you. "Oh yeah, She's great! She's smart, and funny, and she's a great cook, and a really strong sorcerer, and..."

Megumi tuned him out. It was bad enough, dealing with this guy, now there were going to be two of you? He dreaded what the rest of his life would look like.

Gojo was still talking as they walked up the final steps to Jujitsu tech, making their way to the dormitories, only shutting up for a moment when he opened the door to Megumi's new room.

You were there, setting a bouquet of carnations in a vase and angling it perfectly on Megumi's new night stand. The second you realized they arrived, you nervously turned around and smiled sweetly. "Hi! You must be Toj- uh, Megumi Fushiguro!"

"Toji's son" sounded a little demeaning to you.

Megumi nodded, seeming to be examining your face, trying to get a read on you. "I'm (y/n), It's great to meet you...I was going to make lunch, but then I realized I don't even know what you like...so how about when you're settled you can tell me what you like and I'll make it for dinner?" So Usagi-chan wasn't your real name...

"Can you even cook," Megumi asked, the first thing he's ever said to you, his little voice mature sounding for a kid his age.

You giggled, his bluntness making you relax a little at how amusing it was. "Well, he thinks I can," you laughed, pointing at Gojo, who has now made his way over to be next to you, "But he thinks I'm good at everything, so how about you try it and find out?"

Megumi hesitantly nodded, satisfied with your answer, and plops his backpack on the ground. He's decided he likes you.

You made pork gyoza for him that night, some of the best gyoza he's ever had, yet to be matched in his mind. As time went on, Megumi came to realize that you and Gojo filled entirely different roles. While Satoru lived in the dorm right next to Megumi's, Megumi saw a lot more of you than him, even though you worked at the Kyoto sister school.

You came over every day, eating dinner with him and shoveling big portions on his plate because he was "a growing boy", helping him with his homework, listening to his problems, attending his elementary and middle school graduations. At first, Gojo really only interacted with him to train every weekend, to bring him up to his level, but as you took a more parental role, so did he.

Of course, neither of you wanted to be called mom or dad, and Megumi didn't want that either, so he just called you by either your names or "sensei" when being educated. That said, you and Satoru always joked with each other about being teen parents, lamenting the fact that you "got the kid without any of the fun." The very implication of you two doing that always made Megumi gag.

Speaking of that, having the talk with him was surprisingly easy for you and Satoru, disgustingly easy in Megumi's 12 year old eyes, and although at the time he never intended on putting the information to use, it was still good to have.

You were always patient with him, staying gentle during his angsty middle school years, and eventually helping him train even more once he entered high school. You even insisted he danced with you at your wedding, stating that you needed "at least one dance with a gentleman."

All of this said, none of the other first years in the Tokyo school even knew of your existence until the good will event. You showed up with your students, The first person you greeted being Maki. Despite being Mai's teacher, Maki loved you. You were just so...bubbly.

"Maki! Ugh, it's been forever since I've seen you," you squeal, bringing her into a tight hug. You greet Toge and Panda respectively, Before rushing over to your now husband and dramatically swooning into his arms. "Oh, Satoru," You sigh, the back of your hand resting delicately on your forehead. "Ah, Usagi-chan, How I've missed you in the time we've been apart," he sighed, holding you by your waist and the nape of your neck. The sight was completely cringe-worthy, but it was funny to you two and that was all that mattered.

The two of you kissed, much to the confusion of Nobara and Yuji. You opened your eyes, peaking at their faces, and quickly sprung out of the arms of your beloved husband.

"You never told me how adorable your first years are," You giggled, taking Itadori's face in your hand and examining it. You didn't release him as you turned back to Gojo, calling out, "This is the vessel, right?" Satoru nodded, saying, "That's him," proudly. Yuji finally spoke up while Nobara laughed at the sight, asking, "Uhhhh...who are you?"

You pulled back, posing a little and responding with, "I'm (Y/n) (L/n), Satoru's wife!" You never took his last name, seeing as just being connected to the Gojo clan made you a bigger target than you already were. Nobara and Itadori's eyes lit up, both of them shouting, "Tell us everything!"

You would have been happy to, but you saw Megumi out of the corner of your eye. "Ah, Megumi!" You zoomed over, hugging him so tightly his bones might crack. "I've been meaning to ask, what do you want for dinners this week?"

Nobara and itadori got even more excited, you being the best source of information on their closed off friend and surprisingly mysterious teacher.

"I don't care..." Megumi sighed, blushing a little at how open you were about all this. "Maybe Gyoza," he muttered.

Ok, you could be a little annoying sometimes, but that's how all mothers caregivers were. He wasn't mad, even when you invited Itadori and Nobara over for dinner after the event, or spilled all of the details (except for the ones not even Megumi knows) about your life with Megumi and Satoru. He was ok with this, albeit a little peeved, because at the end of the day you cared for him in a way he never would have imagined being cared for.

Life didn't turn out to be so bad after all.

I absolutely loved writing this, it's been on my mind for a while now! As always, let me know what you think :)

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 12/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE

TEN ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

                It’s another Christmas with the Gallo family and his Italian is fluent. He can even understand the little kids who can barely talk. The teenagers all want to practice their English with him, which he’s happy to do. He’s helped enough with some of their homework now to really appreciate that English is his first language and he never had to learn all the exceptions to all the rules. He’s stumped so often when they ask him to try and explain obscure things.

                Christmas is a special time, the restaurant is closed and he helps make the traditional biscuits and food, Leandro and Silvia relaxing and drinking and family come to stay and eat together for what seems like endless days of feasting. There are so many people he can’t keep track of who is related to who. There are Leandro’s siblings, his nieces and nephews. His parents, his parents’ siblings and then their kids.

                Then there are Silvia’s parents and fortunately Vi takes pity on him, hooking her arm through his and telling him to just call everyone cousin, or aunt and uncle if they’re old enough to be his parents. It does make it easier, and everyone accepts his continued presence now after a few years, at least no longer the strange American who doesn’t understand them. He does notice, he thinks for the first time, that Leandro and Silvia don’t have any children and he wonders if he can ask. He wants to know but… He sidles up to Vi, she might know.

                “Leandro and Silvia never had kids?”

                She looks between Bradley and over to Silvia who is holding one of the toddlers on her hips, letting them play with the large chunky beads of her necklace.

                “Nope. They couldn’t. Why do you think everyone is happy to have you around?”

                “That sucks. They’d make great parents.”

                “Who says they aren’t, hmm?” Vi asks, and she gives him a look like he’s an idiot and pats his face.

                Well then.

…            …            …

                He’s hot and sweaty, having looked at the tractor and also done some of the truck maintenance. It’s not due to be done until next month, but he won’t be here than and he likes to try and be useful. They have a schedule for things and getting ahead doesn’t hurt, especially when there is a spare pair of hands to help out. He takes the steps up the porch and can hear laughter coming from inside and god, that might not necessarily be a good thing. He’d worried, very briefly, about introducing them and then deserting Leo.

                But it’s not like they’re actually dating, he wouldn’t desert a guy who was actually interested in dating him with his sisters. It’s exactly why they’ve never met anyone, because no one has ever really expressed interest in having anything more with him other than just hooking up. His lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to long-term committed relationships with his deployments pretty much imploding everything before they even start. A little alarmingly these two weeks with Leo might constitute his longest relationship, and it’s only a prolonged hookup.

                He kicks off his boots and hangs up his hat, can hear both Leo and Maria more clearly and they’re talking food and of course he can smell the same smell from the last couple of days. Some lunches and most dinners, same fucking dish. Even sauce can’t save it. He’s desperate for something different. He walks into the kitchen and it’s a little after four, the house nice and cool after the heat of the sun outside. Both Leo and Maria are sitting there with wine glasses and have turned to look at him.

                “Hey…” Leo says, and Jake’s eyebrows raise higher and higher in amusement as Leo blatantly runs his eyes over Jake from his sock clad feet up his legs, over his torso, fixating on what Jake can only assume are his lips. Apparently Leo is a bit of a horny drunk. Maybe.

                “Hi there…Are you getting day drunk with my sister?”

                “We are getting day drunk together! His sauce needed a little bit of sweetness and a touch of acid, so now we’re emptying the bottle!”

                Jake eyes the half-filled bottle and then looks toward the other bench where he spies another empty bottle. He steps closer so he can press a kiss to Leo’s forehead, mainly because he looks like a wobbly kitten wanting to butt heads and Jake’s always been unable to resist cute animals. Then he spies an open recipe book, and he reaches to grab it, about to accuse Leo of cheating and then he sees the photo on the front. The name Bradley Bradshaw embossed in gold, it looks super fancy, and now it makes sense that Maria had recognized him, she’d seen him on the front of one of her recipe books.

                “You wrote a recipe book huh?”

                Leo’s eyes crinkle and he laughs, leaning into Jake’s body and Jake would swear he’s nuzzling him.

                “Yeah. Told you I wouldn’t be much of a chef if I used someone else’s…”

                “Yeah okay, fair point. Nice picture…” Jake says, because it is, Leo all dressed in chef whites and looking serious as he holds a knife over a bunch of peppers like he’s about to behead them. It’s clearly posed but he still looks hot.

                “I was just signing it for Maria…”

                “Was that before or after the first bottle of wine?” Jake asks, and he’s feeling a little… something looking at Leo so comfortable and happy. He looks good. Happy and relaxed and Jake feels the same and it’s… nice, to have someone experiencing a similar thing.

                “Oh, I signed it as soon as I saw it.”

                “Aw, getting all excited about someone having your cookbook huh?” Jake asks and Maria makes a snorting choking sound but uses a hand to wave his concern away. Leo is looking at him like he never wants to stop and Jake wants to look right back. “You ready to hit the road?”

                “Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Maria asks, looking between them and Jake gives her the finger.

                “You need anything?” Jake asks, because there’s no way he’ll leave her needing to do anything, not while she’s this drunk.

                “Nope. Have food… wouldn’t mind the company to eat but I’ll ring Olivia… oh my god. Can you come for dinner Friday night?”

                “What? Why?” Jake asks, suspicious.

                “I wasn’t asking you! Bradley. Can you, will you, come for dinner?”

                “Yeah, I’d love to. What can I bring?”

                “Oh my god. Oh my god. Your flourless chocolate cake. Could you make that?”

                “Wait. Why are you inviting him for dinner?” Jake asks, because it’s two days away and –

                “Don’t you think everyone else would like to meet him?”

                Jake tries to convey shut up shut up shut up with both his brain and eyes, but Maria is looking a little manic and Leo doesn’t seem worried at all but also Leo has likely drunk a bottle of wine. Because no, he doesn’t see why everyone needs to suddenly meet the guy he’s fucking.

                “I don’t know, why do they need to meet him?”

                “We always like meeting your friends Jake. You never bring anyone home…”

                “Actually, I’ve got a meeting on Friday…” Leo says, and Jake looks at him, and he’s suddenly looking a lot more sober, not as soft and shit, he wonders if Maria inviting him to meet the entire family has made him uncomfortable. Uncomfortable enough to be making up excuses and meetings. “The guy from the food truck. Rickard. He’s going to show me how he makes his salsa verde.”

                “Oh.” Not made up then. He’s still mourning horny-drunk Leo though.

                “You’re seeing Rickard on Friday?” Maria asks.

                “You know him?”

                “Everyone knows everyone around here. I’ve got a delivery planned for him tomorrow, if Jake has done his job properly.” Jake rolls his eyes. Of course he fucking has. He might be years out from living and working the farm, but he hasn’t forgotten how to harvest or direct the machines or other workers.

                “He gets his ingredients from you?”

                “Well, we’re certainly not going to get through that many jalapeños! We provide to several places.”

                They’re throwing back the last of the wine in their glasses and Jake feels bad at unintentionally calling a halt to their session, because they’ve obviously enjoyed each other’s company. But he doesn’t know how to make things back to the way they were, when they were laughing and Leo was looking at him with dark eyes filled with promise. Ah well, too late now.

                “Come on, lucky I don’t drink on the job and can drive us back.”

                Maria trails after them, thumbs flying over her phone and he fully expects that his sister’s group chat is lighting up. He should be glad he’s not part of it, but he does wonder what she’s saying. His own phone vibrates in his pocket and oh, maybe she’s got some choice words to say to him then and he’s got it all wrong. He keeps quiet while Leo thanks Maria for her help, and she replies and tells him anytime and it sounds like she genuinely means it, which makes him feel worse about ruining the dinner invite, except Maria is reiterating the dinner invite, and apparently her and Leo have exchanged numbers. What the fuck. Jake can apparently stay away if he doesn’t want to come. Leo says he’ll think about it, she rolls her eyes, mutters oblivious, seriously and that for some reason makes Leo crack a smile. He really wants to check his phone but holds off, waves goodbye to Maria and walks with Leo to the truck. Maria is standing there waiting for them to drive off so she can wave, but Jake shoos her away and she throws her hands up but goes back inside the house.

                “You okay?”

                “Yeah. Fine. Why?”

                “Just seem a little quiet,” Jake observes, and he could start the engine, fill the silence with something but he wants to… fix this.

                “Yeah. Sorry. I just… I didn’t mean to overstep. Kind of muscle in on your family time…”

                “What are you talking about?”

                “Hanging out with Maria, getting invited to dinner…”

                Jake turns and look at Leo, confused and a little bewildered.

                “Leo. You… shit. You aren’t stepping on toes. I thought you and my sister would get on, and I was right. And I made you hang out with my sister, and my sister invited you to dinner. I just… I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable or, I don’t know, obligated, to meet my family because we’re” he waves his hands between them “…hooking up.”

                “What if it was more than hooking up?”

                “What?”

                “I know it’s only been a few days. Shit. It has only been a few days, but…” he sucks in a breath. “I really like you.”

                Jake stares at him, because this is madness. Leo lives in New York, Jake lives wherever the US Navy sends him and comes home to Thompsonville when he can.

                “So, what? You think we can date each other for the next ten days?”

                “I think that would be a good start…”

                “And when you go home, and I’m deployed, how exactly do you see a… relationship working between us?”

                “Like we’d savor every second we have together, and use technology to stay in touch and… at least try.”

                Jake blinks and shakes his head.

                “That’s insane…”

                “Maybe. But… Look. I grew up a Navy brat. I know how deployments work and how hard they can be on relationships. Trust me. My job isn’t easy either. I work fucking odd hours, travel a lot and get grumpy even more often. You’ve got the vacation version of me, not the stressed-out workaholic version…”

                Jake raises an eyebrow, because he cannot imagine Leo getting stressed out, or even grumpy. His little disgruntled expression when something isn’t tasting quite right is cute, not grumpy, but he trusts that Leo knows what he’s talking about.

                “You’re serious…”

                “Yeah. And don’t think I don’t know how crazy and potentially stupid this could all be… but I kind of feel like I’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

                “And everything to gain,” Jake says, because it’s a common turn of phrase but as soon as it slips out Leo is shifting and reaching over the gear stick to kiss him.

                “Exactly.”

THIRTEEN

[abeautylives]

Times I Remember Well

(and Some That I Don’t)

Part 1

author’s note: I’m really excited to have something to share with you guys. It’s written from a diff POV than I usually do, but my main character girly pop has a lot of personality 😘 Big big big thank you to bff @samkiszkasfacialhair for all the help, the ideas, and the motivation 🤍

pairing: female!OCxkiszkas (just read it, you’ll figure it out)

time frame: 2010-2014

word count: 5.7k this part

warnings: language, illicit substance use, rampant teenage emotions and delulu, kissing, josh 🥺

I don’t actually remember the day I met Sam Kiszka.

Not the date, or even the day of the week. I do know what year it was, because it was the year my mom moved us to this quaint (read: weird) little town. Charming, but weird. And boring.

Boring, until I met Sam.

Eleven-year-old Sam was a menace, but twelve-year-old me was bored. So obviously, we became the best of friends. He taught me how to light a firecracker, I had an endless supply of Barbies to blow up. He showed me how to slip out of my bedroom window without making a sound, I told him how to impress girls without grossing them out. In our early teenage years, he introduced me to drugs and I taught him how to unclasp a bra. Chill out, it was weed, and I wasn’t even wearing the bra.

My mom just loved that I’d made such a great friend.

The first time I was allowed to play at his house I met his sister, who was closer to my age, but it was too late. Sam and I were already attached at the hip, though mine sat an inch or two higher than his for a couple of years, until a growth spurt and puberty eventually left him with the height advantage.

That was when he stopped calling me by my name, and started calling me Tiny. Like I said, a menace.

“You’re the coolest girl I know, even if you’re vertically challenged.”

Please note: the first time he said this to me, he had finally just surpassed me in height by half an inch.

Then of course, there were the twins. You’d think the eldest siblings would not have become a big part of my life, but they were just always around, and actually liked hanging out with their baby brother. Close knit family and all that. It’s weird, right? At the wise and worldly age of twelve, the two fourteen-year-olds terrified me. Josh and Jake were both scary in their own way to a pubescent girl on the cusp of teenager-dom. Jake was pretty quiet, but his ego was not. He was hot, okay? In like, a Justin Bieber-y way but also kind of a jock-y way, but a jock with a guitar. Whatever, I’m only human.

Josh was… well, Josh was Josh. Unlike anyone else I’d ever met, and not necessarily in a good way. He was loud, like, all the time. He never seemed to stop talking and ended most of his sentences at an eardrum-piercing decibel level. Fortunately, or not, he didn’t get hot until I was old enough to obsess over it.

I’m sure I didn’t speak a coherent word to either of them the entire first year of my friendship with Sam.

I have a million memories of the time I spent with Sam and his family, but I have no recollection of the day I fell in love with Josh Kiszka.

But once I did, it was a deep, obsessive kind of love that only a teenager can achieve. One day he was my best friend’s eccentric older brother and the next…

Well, the next he was a rockstar.

I mentioned the whole jock with a guitar thing that Jake had going on, and that really hadn’t changed, but somewhere along the way Josh had transformed from a loud, annoying theater kid to a genuine, full blown vocalist. I mean, for a while he was both.

When they first started playing together, I only gave a shit because they’d roped Sam into it too and it took up way too much of his time. I’d watch them play, and they weren’t… bad? They weren’t good either. My time could have been better spent watching R rated movies (scandalous) or, I don’t know, doing my homework. But nope! We were in a band now.

They practiced, a lot. It felt like all they did was practice, for at least a couple years. And I just watched dutifully, every weekend of every month of every year. They did get better.

But here’s the thing. I was there for all of it. I was there the day Jake ran into the living room and snatched Sam up by the back of his shirt. Come on Sammy boy, we need you on bass. I was there the day their buddy Kyle sat down at the drum kit and completed the ensemble. (I was also there the day he got replaced.) And of course, I was there the day Josh pushed his voice past the instruments and the amps, and went from a weak imitation of a rock singer to something else all together. Something totally and completely him.

That’s not the day I fell in love with him (I would’ve remembered), but it was the first time he had ever… impressed me. And not that I cared, but Jake was impressed too. I saw it on his face.

It was cute. In like, a sweet, brotherly way.

Okay, anyway! The combination of Jake’s skill and Josh’s raw talent got them noticed. (Sammy’s talent would develop over time, I didn’t forget about him. Sam, you’re the most talented one in the band.) And then they were playing actual gigs. I wasn’t allowed to go to most of those early ones, because for some reason these dive bars were permitting these pint sized, teenage Zeppelin wannabes to perform at them. Old people like our parents loved that shit. The locals went crazy for it.

They played Fischer Hall a couple times, right there in town, but around their third or fourth gig there, Josh had unbuttoned the flowy, floral, women’s blouse he was wearing and took to the stage with it hanging open, beaded necklaces draped down his bare chest and curly hair wild.

Why was he sort of… ripped? How had I never noticed? Were his pants always so tight? And low cut? I was sweating. I didn’t even know he was literally cosplaying Robert Plant.

Did I fall in love with him that night? Of course not, I already told you I don’t remember the day that happened.

The Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I left my house around 8:30 to head to Sam’s. To my mom, this was an average Saturday night - I spent nearly all of them at Sam’s house, where his parents were always home. Ya know, or so mine thought. Whether the Kiszkas were actually home or not, we hung out in the garage.

That’s not as weird as it sounds, it was a really cool garage. With furniture and everything. And their instruments, a lot of them. I don’t know how every one of these guys knew how to play every instrument packed into that room, but they did. And by the time I was sixteen, they were really almost good at it.

(Jake was good. Very good… I told you he was hot.)

This particular Saturday though, this was going to be the Saturday that changed my life. And I wanted to dress the part.

In hindsight, I wore something I’d probably worn a hundred times. Then why had it taken me so long to get ready? I changed my jeans twice, my shirt at least ten times, added a sweater, threw it back on my bed, added a flannel, tossed that to the floor. Picked it back up and shoved my arms in, made sure it hung off my shoulder just so. Shoulders are sexy, right? Do guys like shoulders? Oh shit, what do guys even like?

Anyway, I left the house looking exactly as I always did.

I rode my bike slowly that night, already hyper aware of the sweat under my arms.

So I slowed my pedaling even further. When the house came into view, I hopped off the bike and walked it up the drive before tossing it to the grass outside the garage.

Okay, knock twice and just go in.

That’s what everyone always did, what I always did. Just knock twice then lift the door. Everyone was always welcome, come on in!

So go in, idiot.

Look, I did it eventually. Just like always, knock knock, lift the door enough to slip underneath, let it close behind me. Except when it rolled back to the ground, I lost my nerve and stood frozen there for a few seconds too long.

Sam called me out, because he’s a menace.

“The hell are you doing, Tiny? We started without you.”

I moved farther into the space, eyes bouncing between my options through the soft haze of pungent smoke that already hung over the room. There was my usual spot - on the floor, next to the spot where Sam sat cross-legged, his long frame folded and bent, his sharp elbows resting on his knees as he waited for the joint to make its way back to him.

Not tonight, I’m on a mission.

Jake sat to his left, in a well-worn, floral print wingback chair. It was comfortable enough for one person, decades of weight softening the strength of the cushion’s springs before it ever came to live in this particular garage. Jake’s body was slung over it, legs thrown haphazardly over an arm while his own were wrapped around an acoustic guitar. Typical. He tipped his chin at me from under the brim of a bucket hat, then nodded towards the floor beside him. Holy shit, does he want me to sit by him?! I think my fingers lifted in a barely-there wave but I’m not really sure they were functioning correctly.

Okay focus, he did not. Does not. Not in this lifetime.

Still without his next hit, Sam glanced up at me over his shoulder and patted the threadbare throw rug next to him. “Sit down weirdo, you’re making me paranoid.”

Nerves that I’d never, never, felt before in this room fluttered through my stomach, I let my gaze meet Sam’s before continuing the search for a place to plant myself.

There was really only one option left - the couch - and both ends were already occupied. Our friend Danny (Kyle’s replacement, sorry Kyle) was in the process of melting into the corner closest to Jake, his eyes glassy and already tinged pink when he looked up at me. Only his eyebrows lifted in greeting before he mirrored Sam’s offer to sit next to him, tapping the cushion beside him.

This is fine, totally normal! Danny was Sam’s other half. Well, his other male half. I guess we were in thirds. A trio.

I accepted the offering, stepping around the coffee table, scarred with years worth of “art” - drawings and carvings, a few discreet dirty words etched into the surface in between - to drop to the middle of the couch. One of Sam’s brows tipped up when I met his eyes again, his expression asking, “Dude, what gives?”

“Hey, you’re here!” He noticed me, finally. Silvery smoke crept from between his lips as he grinned, and I watched transfixed when they pursed together and he blew a cloud toward the ceiling. My stare was broken when he leaned across the table and passed the joint to an impatient Sam, but to the delight of the butterflies going nuts in the pit of my stomach, he leaned back into the cushions and threw an arm over the back of the couch behind me. EEEEP!

“Hey-“ It was a humiliating and unsexy croak, and I quickly cleared my throat and tried again. “Hey, Josh. Hi.”

His long hair was pulled back, his entire face available for my viewing pleasure. Things were going perfectly.

I joined the rotation, the weed easing the flutters caused by sitting so close to Josh, but amplifying the feeling that the other three were watching and wondering why I was acting so strange.

They were not. They were high.

Aside from the stray curious eyebrow from my BFF across the table, they actually acted like nothing was abnormal about my seating choice, even when I started to scooch imperceptibly to my left every time I adjusted the way I was sitting.

Pulled my legs up under me? Scooch.

Dropped them down so my sneakers met the cement? Scooch.

Crossed my left ankle over my right knee? Scooch.

It was totally subtle.

“I’m gonna grab a pop, you guys want anything?” Sam startled me out of a pleasant reverie as he jumped up from the floor, but my freaking knee was touching Josh’s knee! No I don’t want anything, I have everything I need right here!

It turned out Sam was a huge knee blocker. He gripped me by an elbow and peeled me from the couch as the others murmured at our retreating backs about needing Doritos. He pushed me out the side door and towards the house and had me in the kitchen before I could even tell him he was ruining everything!

Even through bleary, hooded eyes, his death glare was brutal.

“Saaammmmm, what are you doing?!” “What the hell do you think you’re doing, T?”

More glaring. He broke the glare-off first, jerking his head to the side to flick his hair out of his eyes and turning to open the refrigerator, but once his face was inside it, he called me out again.

“Why are you being so weird with Josh?”

I love him, I need him!

“Whaaa.. I don’t know what you mean. You’re just super high.” Yeah, I really thought that would work. Sue me!

Straightening to his full height (seriously, like two inches taller than me… maybe three), he spun to face me again. He actually looked down his nose at me.

“Do you like, like him? What the fuck, Tiny?” He whispered that last part, as if his parents were lurking around the corner waiting to bust him for cussing.

“Look, you wouldn’t understand Sam. I’m much older than y-“

“You’re not even an entire year older than me.”

“Eleven months is basically an entire ye-“

“That’s not the point!” That part was like whisper yelling. I swear it looked like he was yelling, but it sounded like he was whispering.

“Okay!” Yeah, I whisper yelled back. “Sammy, I like him… I’m sorry! I don’t even know when it happened but I woke up one day and I realized that he’s perfect! He’s funny and nice and he’s so… so… cute! Okay? He’s so cute I wanna die and I love him!”

Sam’s eyes were wide, as wide as they could be under the circumstances, and he stared at me like I’d grown another head. With a horn coming out of it.

“You love him. You realize how dumb you sound right now?”

Dumb? No no, this was serious. I pleaded with my best friend for forgiveness. And his help. “Sam… please. Don’t be mad at me, I- I don’t know, I can’t help it! That’s just how I feel, and I want him to like me back!” That’s when it hit me, I needed a wingman for this plan.

“Can you help me get him to like me back?” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes, bottom lip stuck out and everything. As if that had ever worked in the four years we’d known each other so far.

“Fuck no.” His eyes moved side to side, looking for sneaky parents again I guessed. “Definitely not. Why do you have to like my brother, dude? That’s sick, it’s like incest or something!” He stomped his feet a little, and I couldn't help but think it made him look like a child. He was a child! This was serious, grown-up shit and I didn’t have time to play games.

“Ugh, if you’re not gonna help me then at least get out of my way.” I pushed past him and headed back out of the house and into the garage. Not much had changed when I got there, but Danny must have left while Sam and I were gone. The entire couch was empty aside from Josh, still sitting cross-legged in one corner. Damn it!

I flopped into the spot that Danny had vacated, just as Sam hustled back in through the side door, arms full of sodas and bags of chips. My cheeks were warm when I looked up at him, and then they burst into flames.

“Scoot over T, I like the corner spot.”

He’s helping me! Oh shit, he’s helping me. Move your ass!!

Fumbling for a grip on reality, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Sam’s. He lifted his brows and tilted his head in Josh’s direction. I suddenly remembered why I wasted all my days with this kid - he’s my ride or die. And now I owed him, big.

As soon as I stood to shift to the center of the couch, Sam’s elbow snuck out and made contact with my shoulder. My feet tangled with each other and, balance lost, I tumbled. Right into the arms of my beloved.

Okay okay, that’s a reach. But I did land on him. Sam had nudged me just hard enough to send me toward the opposite end of the couch and I landed ass-first on Josh’s leg, still folded and crossed under the other.

Through the mortification, I heard Sam’s distinct snickering as he placed himself gently on the other cushion. Then, through the popping of soda tabs and crinkling of chip bags, I heard the sweetest, most beautiful sound ever.

“If you wanted to sit next to me so bad, you could’ve just done it, T.”

I quite literally had to extract myself from his lap, but Josh just giggled as I clumsily moved off of him. To my extreme delight and disbelief, I didn’t make it too far. He slung an arm over my shoulders and kept me at his side. We are sharing a cushion. ALERT ALERT - OUR THIGHS ARE TOUCHING.

His hand wrapped around the ball of my shoulder and squeezed. Not once, but twice. I felt like I was gonna puke, but I risked turning my head and meeting his eyes. And he. Fucking. Smiled.

“You good, Tiny?” I should’ve laughed. We were the same exact height, I could be calling him tiny. But this wasn’t funny, because he was still smiling at me and he’d lowered his voice to speak directly to me and I felt it all the way to my toes. Somehow I managed to smile back.

“I’m good.” I was soooooo good. Even when Sam shoved a bag of Doritos at me, I was good. Because Josh reached into it and pulled a few out for himself. He reached into my lap! For chips!

Risking a sideways glance at Sam, I found him eyeballing Josh’s hand that was still resting lightly over my shoulder. I gave him my best “holy shit holy shit holy shit” expression, to which he rolled his eyes and shrugged. Before turning my attention back to the love of my life, my gaze drifted past Sam and landed on Jake. Oh, he was still here? Hadn’t noticed.

Except I was noticing. And he didn’t look pleased. He locked in and held eye contact, absolutely scowling. He was pissed. At me?! I must not have hidden my surprise well, because after a few more tense seconds of the longest eye contact we’d ever held, he blinked away and flung the guitar he’d been cradling all night over the arm of the chair.

Look, he didn’t throw it or anything. The stand was right there and the guitar landed safely, if not a little roughly, in its place. But then he tossed the open bag of Lay’s to the table, swung his legs around and stood. He caught my eye again, his hair doing that flippy thing over his eyebrows as he shook his head.

“Whatever. Night, guys.”

Just like that, he was gone. Two down, one to go. GTFO Sam!!

The next hour or so passed in a blur. Sam kept hitting the joint long after Josh and I had turned it down, and by the time he’d deposited the roach in the ashtray he could barely keep his eyes open. I watched his head fall back into the cushion and pounced on my opportunity.

Leaning away from Josh’s loving embrace (shut up, I was in heaven okay?), I slapped Sam’s chest with the back of my hand.

“Sammy… Sam!” He snorted as his head whipped up, swiped a hand over his mouth and looked at me. I was still leaning toward him, my back to Josh, and I spoke to him telepathically. Or with my eyebrows.

Get out of here right now or so help me God.

He answered verbally, like he couldn't even read my mind. “Huh?”

I withheld growling at him like an animal. “Why don’t you go to bed, man? You’re toast.” Go. NOW.

His eyes tried to focus on me, they really did, before he shook his head and tried again. “Shit. Yeah, okay. Are you… do you wanna stay on the couch tonight?”

Yes. This couch. Allll night long.

“Yeah yeah, I will, but I’m not tired yet. I’m just gonna, um, chill here for a little bit longer?” At that, I turned my head and risked a glance at Josh. Thank God I did, because he was already looking at me, and he grinned. EEEEEEEP!

“I’m not tired yet either, we can listen to some music.” I doubted I could hear music at that point, not over the blood rushing in my ears. But then, oh then, he looked up at Sam and said, “I’ll make sure she makes it to bed, I mean, the couch. Downstairs, I’ll make sure she makes it downstairs.”

“Fine, whatever.” See? He’s my ride or die. “See you in the morning, T.” And then he was gone.

We were alone.

HELLO? WE. WERE. ALONE.

Sure, I’d been alone with Josh before. I’d been hanging around his house nearly every day for four years, we’d definitely been left in a room together at some point. But not while his arm was draped loosely over my shoulders, not while our legs were touching, not while my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

But now that we were alone, I had no effing clue what to do. Then Josh stood up. My heart dropped into my stomach, but he walked over to the stacked milk crates that housed a small part of their family’s record collection and crouched to skim through them. He found something he liked and set it on the turntable, the needle bringing the crackling beginnings of a song to life.

When he turned back to face me, I thought for sure he’d sit in that ugly wingback chair. Or at the other end of the couch. Instead, he circled the coffee table and sat on the opposite side of me than he had been all night. And now his other thigh was touching mine!

I’m pretty sure my throat closed up because I had to clear it rather unattractively to speak. “What, uhh, ha, um, who is this?”

Sexy, right?

Didn’t matter, his smile took shape right in front of my eyes and all I could see was the little barely-there gap between his front teeth. I wanted to know what it felt like on my tongue. Would I be able to tell? If I kissed him right now, would I be able to feel that little discrepancy in the perfection of his teeth? I lifted my eyes to meet his and realized he’d spoken, and I’d missed it.

“Sorry, uhh… what?”

His head tilted and his eyes searched my face for… something. “Wilson Pickett. Sammy hasn’t played this for you?”

Sammy? Who is Sammy? Ohhh right, best friend.

“Um, no, I don’t think so. But maybe? There’s always music on, he’s probably played this.”

He just nodded, at first in response to my rambling and then in time with the song. When it ended, he just… looked at me, for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds. I was once again hyper aware of my underarms. Sweating. So I slipped the flannel off of my shoulders, keeping my forearms in the sleeves but giving me some airflow to the pits. Josh’s eyes dropped from mine and landed on the now exposed skin. Yes! Guys like shoulders!

The realization slapped me in the face, so I grabbed it and ran. I slid my arms out of the sleeves and tossed the flannel past Josh and onto the chair, thanking God that I’d worn a tank top. He gulped. Like a full-blown gulp.

Omg I’m making him nervous!!

Confidence boosted, I shifted even closer to him, until our bodies were tucked tight against each other. I’d never been this close to him, aside from that one time we’d been crammed in the back seat of his mom’s car with Sam and Jake, their sister sitting pretty in the front seat. But then I had been a scrawny kid, only thirteen (and a half) and he had been a really weird fifteen year old, not yet having grown into his features. I hadn’t wanted any part of his stinky, sweaty, farty body near me and I’d squeezed myself so close to Sam I was practically in his lap.

But on this night? This Saturday after my sixteenth birthday, I was no longer a kid. And he was no longer weird. He was beautiful, and my face was really close to his face. I could feel it when he whispered, his breath actually touched my lips.

“Wha- what are you doing, T?”

He was looking at my lips, waiting for my answer. I licked them because I was freaking parched, but he watched. And I watched him gulp, again! My tongue slipped out and wet my bottom lip a second time.

“Josh?” Whispering is sexy, it’s seductive. I was sure of it. He did it back, just my name - my actual name - lilting at the end in question.

“Do you.. wanna… kiss me?” I leaned over him, placed my left hand on his chest and felt his collar bone under my fingertips through his t-shirt. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

I saw the panic widen his eyes, then they darted around me, looking at anything but me. It was really so cute how nervous he was. He was eighteen, for Christ sake! And I was making him nervous!

“Kiss me, Josh.” His eyes snapped back to mine, slipped down to my mouth again and then back.

And then. He. Freaking. KISSED. ME.

In a split second that felt like hours, I watched his eyes close and perfect lips pucker. My eyes stayed open at first, I didn’t want to miss this.

Leaning further into him, I settled my lips against his and slid the hand on his chest up the side of his neck (his pulse was out of control, by the way), and then cradled his jaw. My fingertips were in his hair right behind his ear. I pulled his face closer and ramped up the pressure of our lips pushed together.

He put his hands on me. I swear to God, he really did! One reached for my hip and the other came up to rest against my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed and my body took over. Not a coherent thought left in my pretty little head. Especially when our mouths separated, and then he pushed them back together.

With a mind of its own, my other hand came up and gripped his shoulder. Then my leg swung over his lap and I. Was. Straddling. Him.

It wasn’t my fault. My brain had gone haywire, my body moving on instinct. I’d quite literally never done this before. I’d kissed plenty, I even kissed Sam once (barf), but this felt different. This felt mature. Probably a little more mature than I was ready for but like I said, it was not my fault.

A lot of blame fell on Josh, a whole mountain of it, when the hand on my cheek dropped to my other hip and gripped hard, pulled me flush against him. And his lips coerced my mouth open. And the tip of his tongue swept out and touched mine.

Oh, I was in way over my head. But this was Josh, the boy I loved, and he was loving me back!

A sound I’d never made before crept up my throat. Instant embarrassment heated my already toasty cheeks and climbed up my neck, but then. Ohh then. The same freaking sound came from somewhere below me. Josh groaned. Because of me.

My animal brain completely took over. My tongue was already sliding against his, and my hips decided to follow suit. With zero finesse, they rocked into his. Just once.

He broke the kiss and dropped his head back to the cushion.

No no noooooo, you like this! You love it!

I could feel the proof that he loved it. I was sitting on it. I could see it, his chest heaving.

So I leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his throat.

“Stop, T.” His hands fell limp and landed on my thighs. My brain scrambled to catch up. Stop? Go! His fingers spread across the denim on my legs. Go go go!

But then he pushed. I leaned back to see his face, find an explanation, but his eyes were still closed as he pushed me off of his lap. Helped me swing my leg back over. Kept his hands on my thighs until they were planted back on the couch and closed. Firmly. Then they left me, and I felt their absence like a knife to the heart.

“I… wow, okay.” It’s the best I could manage to formulate, but my brain was running in overdrive.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let that happen.” He rubbed his palms, the ones that were just holding me, over his knees then leaned forward and dropped his forehead into them.

Okay, maybe he just thinks we were moving too fast!

“Josh, it’s okay. I want this! We can just kiss, I’ll stay over here and you stay there and-“

It was so quiet, but it stopped my words on my tongue and slammed my lips shut.

“I can’t.”

Okay. Okay. Okay.

It’s because Sam’s my best friend.

It’s because I’m too young.

He thinks I’m still a kid.

Like his kid sister.

Fuck!

Anger rolled through me. “Why? Is it Sam?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face and turned to me. Looked at me, finally.

“No, I-“

“Am I too young for you? You’re not that much older, Josh and we’ve known eachother forever, it’s not that big of a de-“

“It’s not that, Tiny.” His eyes closed again.

“Don’t call me that!” He’d offended me, I was o-ffen-ded. “I’m not a little fucking kid!” Okay, I was pissed! I was a grown ass woman!

(I wasn’t.)

Both of his hands reached forward and he pulled mine towards him. Held them there. Opened his eyes. Was he gonna cry? Why are his eyes wet?! Shit, am I crying?

“It’s not you, T. It’s me.” Oh please. “I- well, I um, I like someone else.”

Back to angry! “What?! Then why the hell were you kissing me?!” What a scoundrel, what a snake, what an asshole!

“It’s not like that-“

“What the fuck is it like?!” I didn’t normally curse much at that age, but when I tell you I was mad? Hurt? Embarrassed? I couldn’t stop it from happening.

Shit, his eyes were definitely wet.

“It’s a guy.”

He whispered it, and it wasn’t sexy, it wasn’t seductive. It was sad. Scared. Defeated. I snatched my hands out of his.

There was a long silence. Uncomfortable. He stared at his empty hands and we processed.

“What did you say?” His posture shrank, like he was trying to disappear. “Josh, it’s okay. Talk to me.” It was my turn to take his hands. I held them in mine and squeezed once.

“I’m so sorry, I- I just don’t like you. Like that.” His eyes found their way back to my face, “I really like him.” They went wide and I’m pretty sure mine did too. He seemed shocked that he’d said it out loud, right before panic spread across his features again.

“Please don’t say anything, T. I haven’t- no one knows that. No one. Please.”

“No, I would never Josh, I swear. I just… why were you, ya know, kissing me?” Touching me, pulling me in. He pulled his hands away from me this time.

“I just wanted to feel normal. I wanted them to think I was normal.”

I couldn’t help it. I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

“You are.” Normal and beautiful and perfect. And not mine. A heavy sigh slipped from between my lips. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He stayed silent, so I did too. I kept my arms around him for a few minutes before finally letting them slip free, rubbing a palm between his shoulder blades.

“I guess I should go… Are you okay?” Look, I was not okay, but it didn’t seem like that was important anymore.

“Aren’t you gonna stay downstairs tonight?”

Definitely not. “No, I think I should go home…” Probably won’t show my face over here for a goooood long time.

“Let me walk with you.”

I did. He walked on the other side of my bike while I walked it by the handlebars. When we reached my driveway, I left the bike propped against the side of the garage and turned to him. And just like in my dreams, he moved close and pecked a kiss into my cheek. Then he pulled me into his arms.

“I’m really sorry… I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, ya know?” His voice was soft and low, his breath tickling my ear. It should’ve been a literal dream come true.

A half step back and I rubbed my hands up and down his arms. “It’s really fine. I’m sorry for…” Humiliating us both? “Everything.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I mean it,” he emphasized when I shook my head. “Just… please don’t say anything. Even to Sam. Especially to Sam. I’m gonna tell them all when I’m ready, I think.”

Huge, massive sigh. “I won’t. I promise.”

And I never did. Not really.

[dckweed]

NEXT THING YOU KNOW, gator tillman

in which gator tillman and his arranged bride figure out life and each other and what a real relationship means to them.

warnings: mentions and depictions of abuse, mentions of bruises, arranged marriages, romance, humor, dead parents, slow burn relationship (not completely but not not), basically we know the tillman men are asswipes so i 100% see Roy forcing gator into this kind of situation for money for his militia, eventual smut with kinks such as thigh riding, gun play, choking, spanking, lots of marking and possible spit play.

p.s. if y'all ever wanted to send in little rambles or drabble ideas for pearlie and gator to my ask box feel free to my babes, i love interaction with my readers! or even if you wanted to just ask me questions to get to know me!

song in the last scene is somebody's heartbreak - hunter hayes

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

PART FOUR: the weekend, pt 2

Friday. 

Your first night in the Tillman house was quiet to say the least. After picking up Jessica and Maude from their school, both of them clambering into Gator’s truck (he had insisted on taking his own so that he could be the sole driver) with slight grumbles, they were used to their mom picking them up, and even Roy on special occasions, they perked up when they realized that their older brothers wife to be was in the passenger seat. 

“Are you really going to marry him?” Maude, or maybe it was Jessica you weren’t sure how to tell them apart just yet, asked with wide, curious eyes that glanced between you and her big brother. Gator turns half cocked in his seat to give a dirty look to the offending twin. “What? You’re gross.” She muttered, resigning to buckling her seatbelt. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up in your throat or the grin that spread across your lips. “She’s not wrong,” You giggle when he gives you an equally offended look. “I’ve seen your bedroom!” 

Gator rolls his eyes at you but smiles anyway, asking the girls what they wanted for supper. 

He had made supper while you helped the girls with their homework, it was an oddly domestic experience that you basked in, as was holding his hand while he said grace before everyone dug into the sloppy mess of what you quickly gathered was about the only thing he was capable of cooking, pasta. 

He had left for work not too long after that, leaving with a hurried and wet kiss to your cheek and a stern look at his sisters to behave themselves, a reminder to lock the doors after he was gone, and to text him if he needed anything, to which you had called out to him that he would have to actually respond too. He simply flips you off as he walks down the steps of the porch. 

The girls were an absolute joy, much like your own little sisters. You could tell that they were sweet but that they absolutely enjoyed getting under their older siblings skin whenever they could and you couldn’t say you blamed them, he seemed like he could be a hard ass from time to time. 

When they were off to bed you were left alone to your own devices, exploring what bit of the house you felt comfortable enough to while you were alone, cleaning up after you and the girls’ evening and even cleaning up some of Gator’s room, at least cleaning the mess off of the floor. 

Eventually, it was late enough that your eyes felt heavy and you could barely hold your head up, you had busied yourself with wedding planning and looking at the photos that littered your fiance’s room, questions racing through your mind about who the women were in them as you explored. You hadn’t been paying attention to the time and were surprised to find that it was after three am, and that Gator had texted you around midnight. 

GATOR: how’s everything?

The girls go to bed okay?

Are you asleep?

Something about the string of messages, sent only a few minutes apart made you smile. And then you laughed when you realized that you were the one not responding now. Although in your defense, the messages had been sent when you had been downstairs putting a load of his laundry in the machine, having found a container of detergent on his closet floor, different from the kind that you noticed was downstairs. You hadn’t though to check the phone when you had come back up. 

Now that you were in his bed, under his comforter and breathing in his scent that was all over the pillows and sheets, you felt oddly relaxed. Smirking, you open your phone and pull up your camera, giving a slightly sultry face as you snapped a clear pick of you in his bed, one of your pert nipples hardened and showing through the thing fabric of your sorry excuse for a tank top. 

You attach the photo to a message and send it to him. 

YOU: nice and cozy 

You see him open the message, the little bubbles start moving like he’s typing something to you, and then they stop and you laugh, tossing the phone onto the pillow next to you and rolling onto your side. You close your eyes and you’re close to falling asleep when you hear it ping with a new message. 

GATOR: the hell are you doin’ up so late?

You pout. You expected a reaction to the photo you sent, at the very least an acknowledgement to it and you have to admit you're a little upset that he didn't. Were you over reading things? Did he not like you like that? You had thought that you were friendly enough to send flirty messages back and forth, especially given the way he had stared at your tits before he had even spoken to you, why wouldn't he give a response to the photo? 

Deciding to brush it off, you roll your eyes and snap a picture of the floor off the side of his bed, it gave a clear shot of the rug in front of it that was previously messy. 

YOU: keeping myself busy Deputy, your room was calling to me 

You send it and you don't bother to wait and see if he opens it, closing your eyes to try and get some kind of sleep. 

A couple hours later you wake to a God awful screeching in your ears, scaring you so badly you bit your head on the wall as you jump into a sitting position. It's coming from the nightstand next to the bed, closest to the pillow that smells the most like Gator. His fucking alarm clock bleating in your ears at goddamn six in the morning. 

“Two fucking hours of sleep.” You grumble, kicking your legs angrily as you try to get the comforter off of your body. “Jesus Gator, why's it so fucking cold in here?!” You whine outloud, arms folded over your chest as stomp your way to his closet, pulling his thick robe out and tying it around your waist. He's much bigger than you, it hangs to your feet and the cuffs fall over hands. You probably looked stupid but you didn't care, it was the warmest thing you could find. 

You remember that it's Friday, and the girls have school so you open the door of his bedroom and shuffle across the hallway to the girls’. You peek your head in and one of them is just starting to stirr in their bed. 

“Hey girls,” You say, soft but loud as you walk between their beds. The one on the left is the one already stirring, Maude you think. She rubs her eyes as you sit down on the edge of Jessica's bed, giving the girl a soft shake. “time to get up and get ready for school okay? Don't want your mama and daddy getting upset with me because you're late..” 

You would probably never hear the end of it from Karen. And you certainly wouldn't feel the end of it from Boyd if she ran her mouth to him about it. 

Jessica comes to with a little more persistence on your end and you make sure they're actually up and shuffling to the bathroom to brush their hair and teeth before you leave them alone, headed downstairs to make breakfast. 

You whip up a quick eggs and toast situation, and pour them some orange juice and wonder how the hell they're so perky when they come down the stairs and sit in their chairs. 

“Where's Gator?” Jessica asks, taking a big gulp of her juice. “He's usually home by now, I wonder if he got to arrest someone..I wonder if he'll have a cool story for us!” 

You shrug, sipping on your own juice. “I'm sure he's on his way, sweetie..” You say, keeping an eye on the time. You have just enough time to do the dishes and leave a plate out for Gator before you have to take them to school. 

You drive in his robe, planning to go back to the house and sleep for a little longer, the sleepless nights at Boyd's finally catching up to you. You promise to pick them up in your Jeep this afternoon, and to make them something other than spaghetti for supper too and make the drive back to the ranch. 

Gator's squad car is in the drive when you park, his plate of eggs eaten and sat neatly in the sink. You don't stop to wash it, too tired as you drag your feet up the staircase and into the upstairs hallway. His bedroom door is closed, and when you open it you find him sprawled on his stomach on the bed, nothing on but his boxer shorts. He's snoring lightly, and you know he must be exhausted to already be asleep as he couldn't have been home long. 

“Ugh, boys.” You grumble, tripping over his work boots that were laid in the middle of the floor, one stood up right and the other tossed unceremoniously on its side. His tactical vest is at least on the back of his desk chair, his thigh holster with the gun still inside of it placed on the desktop. You crouch and pick up his camouflage pants and his skin tight black shirt, tossing them in the empty laundry hamper in the closet before hanging the robe back up. 

Without much more thought you crawl into the bed next to Gator, getting comfortable next to his warm body and falling asleep again within minutes. 

Gator wakes a couple of hours later to warm breath in his face and weight across his chest. He's groggy and it takes him a moment to realize that it's you. Sometime between him coming home and going to bed, you had also come home and had crawled into bed with him, somehow winding up laying partially on top of him. 

You look so peaceful when you sleep, your lips parted and your face so uncaring. You were laying on your back, one arm thrown over his chest. He can't help but to guiltily look down, eyes roaming over your chest. He kept it pretty cool in his room, and it was clear your body was reacting to it by the way your hardened nipples poked through your flimsy tank top that obviously barely covered your tits to begin with. He stifled a groan when he felt himself getting hard, same as he had last night when you'd sent him that goddamn photo. God, he had practically cum in his pants when he'd seen it, but he didn't think you could have possibly meant it in any other way than just to be playful in response to his text. 

He had had to jerk off to it only a few hours ago, and now that he had you in his bed with him and he got to look at the real thing? Fuck, he couldn't get to the bathroom fast enough. 

Gently moving out from under your arm, he sits up, his elbow brushing the fabric of your tank top as he stands. He glances back at you once he's on his feet, one hand clutched on the comforter as you squirm around, his eyes locking onto discolored flesh on the upper part of your rib cage peeking out from the bit of your shirt he had accidentally moved. It was a violent shade of green with a little tinge of purple. 

Hard on long forgotten he reaches a steady hand out and gently pushes the top up father, exposing the bottom of your tit to his eyes, and the rest of a large, angry bruise that looked like it wrapped around your entire front. 

“Jesus fuck..” His first thought was that his father had done something to you, hit you with his horse whip maybe when you were alone yesterday, but he knew he wouldn't. Not yet, not until your last name was legally Tillman and he felt entitled to you. The bruise was too old for that anyway, his next thought was maybe some sonofabitch from school. Anger welled up inside of him. He was angry that some dickhead had marked up his fiance, angry that his bride was walking around with these bruises and he had no idea who put them there. Angry that he wasn't there to stop it, to put that fucker in the back of his squad car, or better yet, twenty feet in the fucking ground out in some forgotten field on the fucking ranch. 

With shaking, but gentle hands he shakes your shoulders. “Pearl,” He whispers, you groan in response, kicking your feet as if trying to push him away. “Pearlie, hon, wake up..need'ta ask you somethin’” 

You're groggy, eyesight swimming as you slowly open your eyes. “Mmm was'uh matter?” You ask, barely registering the shaking hands gripping your shoulders. You see a funny look on Gator's face, something between pain and sadness and rage and that's what wakes you up, wondering what had happened. “Gator? What's wrong?” You try to sit up but his strong hands keep you pinned down. “Ga-”

“Who hurt you?” His voice is strained, and you feel his fingers grip your shoulders tightly as he looks down at your..oh. He must have seen the bruises left over from Boyd's lashing. “Pearlie, honey, who fuckin’ did this to you?” His voice is a whisper but it holds so many emotions in it, sadness and pain, and anger that for once in your life isn't directed at you. Maybe it's because you're groggy still, or maybe because he's just so damn gentle in the way he asks it, the way he's holding your shoulders but you feel your lip start to quiver and before you know it, a sob is breaking from your chest. 

Gator doesn’t particularly know what to do when your entire body shakes with the force of your crying, his hands moving from your shoulders to let your sit up, your shirt riding down over the godforsaken bruise. It was your own fault, for wearing something so short, you realized. But it was also Boyd’s fault for hitting you in the first place. Sobs wracked your body as your mind started working, were you relieved? Scared? You had never had to tell anyone about what was going on at home before, you had always hidden it so well from everyone, including your own mother and now? You had to tell him, Gator wasn’t going to take ‘don’t worry about it’ as an answer, you may have only known him and been engaged for a week but you knew him enough to know that that wasn’t his style. You were as much a Tillman now as you were an Augastine, you were his to protect, to keep safe. 

For how long you cry, you’re not sure, but at some point it gets bad enough that Gator sits down with you, strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling your head into his bare chest. You tears left a wet mess in the smattering of hair that lay between his pecs, his fingers rubbing small circles in your hair as he whispered soothing words into the top of your head. “It’s okay, hon..” He would say, over and over again. “It won’t ever happen again, Pearlie girl..” Occasionally thrown in, and from the way he spoke it, the way his body felt underneath of you when the words left his mouth, you knew he was telling the truth. “I promise you’re safe with me..won’t ever hurt you..” He had whispered a few times, and you swore he was crying too. 

The tears stop after a while, and your heart stops racing, your body no longer shaking. He doesn’t let you go though, and in all honesty, you don’t want him to. “Boyd..” You say finally, giving a small sniffle after the word. Your voice was so small, cracked with emotion that you weren’t sure he had heard it at first until you felt the way his arms tightened around you, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. 

He breathes out of his nose, trying to calm the rage boiling inside of him at your words. He tries to focus on you in his arms, keeping you safe and comfortable while you tell him this. Your voice sounded pained and he couldn’t say he blamed you. “For how long?” He asks, eyes squeezing closed as images of the man hitting you filled his mind. “How long has he been doing this to you?” 

You sniffle again, bringing one of your hands up to squeeze his forearm, trying to comfort your comforter. “Ten years..” You say, breath catching as he lets out a pained sound. “Minus the four years i was at boarding school..except for when i would come home on breaks..” 

Gator doesn’t want to keep pushing you, pushing himself. He was really testing his own limits right now, everything in his body was telling him to go hunt that man down, give him a taste of his own medicine, but his mind was telling him not to. That you needed him. He breathes out a low sigh, breath shaky as he kisses the top of your head, breathing in the smell of your expensive ass shampoo. “Okay..why don’t you go take a hot shower,” He says, feeling you nod against his chest. “We can talk more about this later, if you want..” He could tell you were thankful for his words as when you finally sit up from his embrace, you give him a long kiss on the cheek, both hands cupping his face as you climb over him, whispering a soft thank you. 

The one bathroom in the Tillman house isn’t luxurious like the one attached to your bedroom at Boyd’s, but it has a beautiful clawfoot tub, and it feels nice and cozy, comfortable. The water is hot too, reddening your skin as it washes down your shoulders and chest, trailing down the bruise below your breasts. The contact made you flinch, the image of Boyd giving it to you flashing before your eyes before the pain turned into something more soothing, the sting reminding you that you’re at Gator’s house and for the time being, you’re safe from him. 

You take way longer than is probably polite when you’re a guest in someone’s home, and you’re glad that Karen isn’t here because you get the feeling that she would bitch about it, and it would somehow turn into you getting Gator in trouble without meaning to. You had forgotten to bring your shower gel from your bag in Gator’s room, so you use what you deduce is his from the smell, lathering yourself in it for a while before letting it run off of you under the fall of the water from the showerhead. 

When you feel like yourself again, and you’ve let cool water run down your face to where you’re sure its no longer puffy, you make your way out of the bathroom and back across the hall to his room. He’s nowhere to be found, but the bed is messily made and the closet door is open, you notice a pair of jeans missing off the first hanger, and the smell of coffee finally hits your nose. 

You put your pajamas under the pillow on the left side of the bed, you had only packed one pair, before making your way down the stairs, the sound of something scraping against a pan and hushed cursing meeting your ears before you reach the last step. You peek into the kitchen and a smile spreads on your face at the sight of Gator running a hand through his hair, smoke rising in front of his face as he turns every which way, talking to himself as he tries to fix whatever he had messed up. “I think you’re burning something, hon.” You quip, chuckling when he jumps about a foot in the air at the sound of your voice. 

“Jesus Christ, need’ta put a damn bell around your neck,” He sighs, fighting back his own laugh. “I was trying to make a fuckin’ grilled cheese..” He shows you the contents of the pan thats in front of him, and you laugh at the pathetic lump of burnt bread and cheese. 

“Did you butter it?” You ask, and he mutters another curse before groaning. “Who taught you how to cook, Gator?” 

“Literally no one.” He says, tossing the burnt sandwich into the trash before moving out of your way. 

You busy yourself making a sandwich for each of you, feeling hungry now that you’re actually in the action. You hear him rustling around behind you, the fridge opening and glasses clinking. You’re flipping both of the sandwiches in the large skillet when a full coffee mug is set next to you on the counter, clearly mixed with creamer. 

“I stopped on my way home and bought some of that creamer stuff..” He says, you pretend not to notice how his cheeks flush as he says it. “I know it’s not an iced coffee, but at least its flavored.” 

You’re not sure why you’re so goddamned emotional but you swear your eyes water at the notion. “That’s so sweet, you didn’t have to,” You say, going to give him another kiss on the cheek. You have to stand onto your tip toes this time, and he hums as you do. “Thank you, Gator.” 

“Want you to have the things you like.” He shrugs, taking a big drink of his own mug of black coffee. He crinkles his nose, chasing after you with a small sniff that makes your cheeks flush. “Are you wearin’ my body wash?” 

You shrug and move back to the stove, suddenly remembering the conversation you had had with his sisters when you were dropping them off at school this morning. “I promised your sister’s that i would make something for supper tonight,” You begin plating the sandwiches, switching the gas to the stove off. “Not that your spaghetti wasn’t good or anything, but i get the sense that cooking just isn’t your thing.” 

You hand him his plate, he’s looking at you with an unfamiliar emotion in those damn brown eyes. “Can you make cheeseburgers?” He asks, an almost childlike lilt to his voice. You nodded in agreement and you swear he would have done a happy dance if he hadn’t spilled some of his hot coffee out of the mug and onto his hand. “Ah shit!” 

It’s one thirty when by the time you guys finish with lunch and coffee and you set your plates in the sink with the notion of washing them later, you notice that Gator had already washed the plate you left for him this morning. “I think we’ll probably have to go to the supermarket on the way back from getting the girls..” You say, you had noticed earlier that there wasn’t any fresh meat for burgers in the fridge, and if that was what he wanted then it needed to be bought. 

“Okay.” He says, checking his watch. You hear him sigh. “I got a few chores to do before we go to the school.” He gets up and starts heading for the door, you start pouting as you watch his retreating back. You didn’t want to be left alone in the house, it was boring without someone to annoy. “You comin’?” 

You hum as you carry a bucket of feed to the chicken pen off yonder of the barn, it was heavier than you had told Gator, wanting him to think that you could do it on your own. He had already poked fun at you for never having done any real ranch chores outside of caring for your own horse before, you didn’t want him teasing you for having to carry a bucket of slightly heavy feed because you were too soft for it. 

He had stayed behind in the barn, a large shovel in hand as he had decided that you were much too pretty to do the easier although definitely stinkier job of shoveling horse shit from the stalls. He sent you off with a teasing jilt about how you grew up on that fancy ranch and never done farm chores, before he put his stark county sheriff deputy hat on your head (the sun was awfully bright, ‘don’t need you goin’ blind’ he had said). 

You rolled your eyes at him once you had turned away, muttering under your breath in mocking tones the word he had teased you with, though you regretted it almost as soon as you were out of sight of the barn. The feed was heavy, your arms were sore and your hands burned from where the wire handle was digging into your palms and you didn’t think it could have possibly gotten any worse, you didn’t think that you could have wished any harder that you had stayed back in the house to clean up from breakfast and lunch, until you walked into the chicken pen and sat the bucket of chicken feed down by your feet so you could turn around and close the door behind you, not wanting any of the birds to get loose. 

You heard the fluttering of all their wings first, and then the little noises they made as if greeting you. “Hey little dudes,” You say, starting to turn around. “Who’s hungr- OH MY GOD!” You flew back against the door, not expecting ten birds to be right behind you, one already sat in the bucket of feed. How did they move that fast? You were pretty sure that they weren’t supposed to sit in the feed though, so gingerly and a little fearfully you tiptoed just the littlest bit closer to the feed bucket, your hands outstretched. “Hey little lady..let’s just-HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” The bird had fluttered it’s wings and snapped it’s beak at you as you tried to move it away from the food that the other birds needed too, it’s beady black eyes locked on yours. You swore it was looking into your soul and that was all you needed to get the fuck out of there with what was left of your life. 

“GATOR, GATOR, GATOR!” His head snapped up in the direction that he heard your voice from, eyebrows furrowed. You sounded terrified. He stepped out of the horse stall he had started in, closest to the back exit just as you came barrelling into the barn, straight into him and his arms and damn near knocking him over in the process. You babbled as he steadied the two of you, his hands on your biceps as you looked up at him with big, watery eyes looking up at him and your lips puckered so deep in a frown that he just couldn’t help but to smile at how fuckin’ adorable it was. 

“Slow down, Pearlie, can’ understand what you’re sayin’ when you’re babblin’ like that..” He says, rubbing his hands up and down your biceps gently, trying his best to soothe you. He was new to this whole thing, but he had learned fairly quickly earlier that soothing words and touches and a calm tone seemed to be best with you. He watched you take a big, deep breath in and let it out, a small sniffle and your lips puckered just a little bit less.. “Start again, hon..what happened? What’s got you so spooked, hm?” 

“The birds, Gator!” You say, voice wavering. “They attacked me!” He immediately check’s every inch of available skin for talon marks, anything that resembled an attack, but aside from the emotions on your face you were otherwise unscathed..his eyebrows furrow again. “Gator..they..they were waiting for me when i turned around and it..it was sitting in the feed bucket and i..i just..i went to move it and it yelled at me..it yelled at me, Gator and it fucking like..fluttered it’s wings at me and it had friends!” 

Here you were telling your fiance about the horror movie level ordeal you had been through, and what does he do? He laughs. Laughs! Head thrown back, shoulders shaking and gut hurting laughing at you. You smack his chest. “Stop laughing!” You say and you swear he only laughs harder at you, which pisses you off. “Gator Tillman you fuck head stop laughing at me!” 

“Oh, Pearlie girl..” He sighs, wiping a tear from his eyes with the back of his hand as he finally stops laughing, hand rubbing his side as he shakes his head. “You afraid of the fuckin’ chickens?” You pout and he starts laughing again until you start hitting his chest with the hat he had put on your head, which makes him hold his hands up in surrender before taking it gently from your hand. “They’re just fuckin’ birds, hon, just kick ‘em they ain’t gonna hurt you none..” 

“Bullshit, Gator,” You stomp your foot, arms crossing over your chest as you glare at him. “You didn’t see the way they all looked at me!” He shakes his head at you, shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “They were talking! They probably planning how they were gonna kill me and eat my body and feed my bones to the hogs!” 

“Pearl, we don’t even have hogs!” He exclaims, completely done with your buffoonery at this point, though he knows it’s not buffoonery. He knows how real it is, can tell by the fear in your face and he knows that he shouldn’t make fun of you for it but it just seems like something a husband would do to his wife. “Oh my god I know the Augastine ranch is ritzy but i figured he would’ve had you working with the ranch hands like my daddy did..this is fuckin’ hilarious..” 

“Gator!” You pout, stomping your foot once more and he only starts laughing once more, cackling once you push him in the chest on your way past him. “You go feed the damned demons then! I’ll shovel horse shit, can’t be any scarier!” 

And shovel the shit you did until it was time to go and pick up his sisters from school, a car trip of which was filled with him poking more fun at you from the drivers seat of your own car! You were downright tempted to salt his macaroni and burn his burger tonight for supper, but you could never stand to mess up on purpose when it came to the kitchen. 

The girls clambering into the Jeep at the school pick up took the attention off of your harrowing ordeal this afternoon, their chatterbox selves keeping Gator entertained as he drove through town on the way to the supermarket. Roy had enlisted the girls into he local christian academy, a private school and you made a mental note to ask Gator later tonight if he went to the same school too, if the highschool is where he got the trophies in his room from. 

The supermarket was an ordeal in its self. The girls constantly asking Gator for something that he would exasperatedly say to put back where they found it, and it you swore that the amount of people you guys stopped to talk to, who were shocked that the rumor of Gator being engaged was true, caused what should have been a thirty-minute trip to turn into an almost two hour one. Each time a random couple or person whom you didn’t know (but he clearly did) stopped the pair of you, his arm would be immediately around your shoulder or your waist, tucking you into his side tightly. You would find your own arm or hand across his broad back with such ease it was as if you had been doing it for years, as if you guys had had a conventional engagement rather than having signed on a dotted line for your parents. It was safe to say that by the time Gator had pulled up next to his police cruiser, you were both exhausted. 

You spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen, listening as Gator helped his sisters with their homework so that they wouldn’t have to do it over the weekend. “Look, i thought it was stupid too, but i promise you, you my step-mama always told me it’s better to do weekend homework on friday so that you have the whole weekend to play and do fun things..” He had said, trying to convince them to sit down and pay attention. You thought it was rather sweet to hear him with them, he always seemed so cold and distant when his father was around but hearing when he wasn’t was another thin. You loved how warm and happy he was, how hands on he was. You knew that you were supposed to have a child of your own with him, it was part of the agreement, and you were a little more comfortable with that fact knowing that he was gentle. 

By the time the sun had gone down and the four of you had sat down to eat, Gator praising and moaning into his plate the whole time, it was a meal filled with laughter and stories of how everyone’s days had went, which was all fine and dandy until your fiance had decided to tell his younger twin sisters the story of your harrowing encounter with the murderous devil chickens just before coming to pick them up from school, to which they had laughed and laughed and in all fairness, you couldn’t help but laugh a little too because now that you thought about it, it was a little silly the way that you had reacted. 

Not more than an hour or so after that you were stood at the kitchen sink, the water running and your phone on the counter beside you just barely drowning out the noise of the piano being playing in the living room as you cleaned up the mess that had been made throughout the day. You hummed along to one of the songs, realizing that you needed to start working on a playlist for the wedding, as you scrubbed the dishes.

You didn’t hear his footsteps approaching, but you felt his presence, felt his bicep brushing against your shoulder as he stepped up to the sink right next to you. You looked up at him with a small smile on your face when you noticed the dishtowel thrown over his shoulder, and the other in his hands as he picks up a dish from the clean side of the sink to start drying it. 

“Supper was good,” He says quietly, arm brushing against your own as you both worked. It made your skin buzz, that tingly feeling, you didn’t mind it though, there was something quite soothing about it. “Thank you for cooking..and for putting up with the girls..and me too i suppose.” 

You chuckle, handing him a dish you had just finished washing when the song on your playlist changes, you pause it quickly recognizing the opening notes of it and turn to him. “Hey Gator?” You ask, and he hums, looking down at you as you turn off the faucet. “Dance with me?” 

He was going to say no, to argue about how it wasn’t very manly, but you already had your mouth open. “We’re gonna have to have to dance at the wedding, and i want to make sure you’re not gonna be stepping on my foot the whole night!” 

Now he wouldn’t come out straight and tell it to you, but he had taken a class or two during prom season back in highschool, for that girl he swore he was in love with. “Fine.” He concedes, tossing the towel down onto the counter as you bounce with happiness. 

You click your playlist back on as you feel one of his large hands on your hip, turning you against his chest as he takes one of your hands with his free one, your other hand going up to his shoulder, just below the nape of his neck. It was an oddly comfortable embrace, nothing awkward about it as he started moving the two of you gently around the kitchen. 

‘I'd love to know just what you're thinkin'

Every little river, runnin' through your mind

You give and you take

You come and you go

You leave me here wonderin' if I'll ever know

How much you care or how much you don't

Whatever you need, whatever you want’

“You’re not so bad at this,” You say, looking up into those damn brown eyes, those giant glassy eyes that hold so many emotions that you wish he would let you get to know. And maybe he will, somewhere down the line, but you know it won’t be any time soon. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” He teases, a smirk crossing his lips as he looks down at you, humming along to the song as he leads you around the room. It wasn’t any particular kind of dance, but it was a formal one none the less. “This what we gonna dance to at the weddin’?” He asks softly, a pink tinge to his cheeks as he thinks about dancing with you for the first time as his wife. You shrug in response, body pressing against him as he continues to lead you. 

“Maybe..” You tease and he chuckles, his head tipping back just a bit before he plants his eyes right back on yours. “Haven’t decided yet..i’m makin’ a playlist..” 

‘I guess that all I'm tryin' to tell ya

Is a minute with you is better than two without

Oh, I won't be a fool but I can't play it cool

So I'm playin' safe and I'm breakin' the rules

I'm wishin' I had what I know that you got

So if you're comin' my way then please don't stop’

“And do i get a say about this playlist?” He asks and you throw your head back laughing. “The one part of the wedding planning that i might actually know what the hell i’m doing.” You’re both full on laughing now, still locked in the dancing embrace though you’ve stood still. It takes a minute for you guys to calm down as you keep teasing him about the ivory and white situation, but when you finally do he gives a gentle kiss to your forehead, chuckling as he tells you to help him finish the dishes. 

The two of you continue to make each other laugh as you guys do the dishes together, Gator singing off key to the music he recognizes on whatever playlist you have going, you teasing him for it, both of you blissfully unaware that his two sisters had seen your whole dancing exchange and had run off to the living room to talk excitedly about how much they already adored having you in the family..

taglist:

@ruth-barnes @justherebecausesafarisucks @daisy-is-a-writer @xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @girlwiththerubyslippers @keerygal @lilllbabyyy @boa-hemian @sweetdazequeen @emilyj444 @whisperingwillowxox @babyqnn @lou-la-lou @aestheticaltcow @finalmoondragon @boxofsmittens @pollyspocketdimension @kassy-munson @frostandflamesfanfic @mysticalstar30 @totally-bogus-timelady @nerdypinupcrystal @emmiecrush5-blog @witchcovenboys @starksbabie @marrowfrog00 @boop369 @lelenikki @xmalfoyweasleyx @girlwiththerubyslippers @keerysfolklore @gothicwidowsworld @palmtreesx3 @sacr1ficial-lamb @kingdomkitten32 @littlelovebug98 @cillsnostalgia

[1000roughdrafts]

hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha

Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞

A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1

Thank you by the way!

Title: Please Wake Up

Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)

Word Count: 5.8k

Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.

Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.

When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 

Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.

John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 

When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 

Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 

For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 

Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'

"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 

"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 

Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 

"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 

She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 

"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 

"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 

Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 

Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 

He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 

"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 

"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 

Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.

Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.

She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.

"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.

"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.

Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.

"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.

"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.

"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."

He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.

Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.

"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.

Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.

"I do," Y/N smiles.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.

Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.

"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.

"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."

"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"

"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.

"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"

Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.

Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.

Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.

They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.

… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.

"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.

"Yeah," Sam says.

"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.

The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.

"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"

They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.

"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 

"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 

Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 

Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 

"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 

"Yeah," Sam nods. 

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 

Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 

Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 

Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 

"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 

Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 

"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 

"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."

Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 

Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 

"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 

Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 

After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 

The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 

He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 

Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!

Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 

With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 

"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 

Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 

The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 

"What the-," Dean says. 

"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 

Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 

"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 

Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 

Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 

"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 

"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 

"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 

The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.

His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.

“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 

"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 

"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 

"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 

Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 

Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 

"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 

"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 

Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 

"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 

Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 

His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 

"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 

Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 

"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 

Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 

In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.

The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.

"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 

Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.

Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"

Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.

Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.

Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 

Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

"We're good here," Dean spits. 

"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 

"Weeks?" Dean bellows.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 

"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 

"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 

"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 

"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  

Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.

Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.

The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.

"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 

"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 

Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 

"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 

"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 

"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 

"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 

"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 

Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 

By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."

On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.

Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."

Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.

His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.

"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."

~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)

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[hughiecampbelle]

Being Annie's Younger Sibling Would Include:

Requested: Can I request some headcanons please for being Starlight's younger sibling? How their dynamic would evolve as the show goes on? - anon

A/N: I wasn't sure if the reader is a Supe or not like Annie, so I split in half depending on the way you'd want to imagine it :) I love this idea and I could go on forever! I'm re-watching the first season, so things might be a little sketchy between s1 and s4. Thank you for requesting! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Being Annie's Younger Sibling As A Supe:

You and Annie were extremely close given that your mother pushed you two to be the best

From what you ate to who you hung out with to what you did with your free time was up to your controlling, domineering mother

You were so grateful for your big sister who gave you that kind of motherly unconditional love and support your own could not give you

Staying up late and talking in your shared room

"What are you gonna do when you join The Seven?"

"Make sure you're there with me."

Annie snuck you snacks that your mother decided was too sugary or bad, giving you her own just to see the smile on your face

Coming to her when you're having problems in school, with crushes, homework, and your Supe abilities

Because your mother is the way she is, she's constantly comparing you and Annie together. Who is stronger, faster, getting better grades, taking part in the most saves. etc.

Because she's older and has more experience, you have to work twice as hard to keep up with her. You don't hold this against Annie, though

She makes sure to tell you how good you're doing all the time and tells you how proud she is of you daily

Growing up, you and Annie would play The Seven and draw pictures of The Seven and what your suits would look like. It really was such a big dream of yours to be part of the team, to be a sibling duo too

Training together after school. You two take it very seriously, but when your mother isn't looking, you two goof off like regular kids and chase one another around shrieking and laughing

Playing dress up in your Maeve and Homelander costumes

Designing your costumes together

You both audition together, but only Annie gets the call. Though you're hurt you didn't make the cut, you're glad at least one of you got to live your dreams

Walking down the red carpet with Annie and your mom, feeling, for a moment, what it would be like to be part of the team

When it's time to leave, Annie promises she'll put in a good word for you. This is before she realizes who and what she'll be working with. Once she finds out, once she realizes, she regrets ever saying anything

To keep her in line, Homelander and Vought use you against her: they know you use the police scanner, they have the resources to fake a crime that ends up killing you (that is, if they want to be that discreet about it - Homelander is eager to laser you in half just for fun)

She keeps communication limited and her details sparse. She hates lying to you when you ask if it's everything you've dreamed of, but she can't tell you the truth. No one can know the truth

Instead she asks about what you're up to, if you've saved a stay cat from a tree or walked an old lady across a busy street

You know she's joking, but you can't help but feel like what you're doing compared to what she's doing is so small, so silly

Watching every interview and TV appearance she's in. Cheering her on!

Your mother purs all her focus into your career now. You can't do anything or go anywhere without her interrogating you

It's suffocating

By the time you're able to book a flight to see Annie (and escape your mother) she's deemed a traitor by The Seven

You show up anyway, demanding answers. She hasn't called you or texted. She hasn't been on TV. Annie's disappeared, and you're the only one who noticed. You're kicked out of Vought with even more questions and a terrible feeling

That's when you meet Hughie

Being Annie's Younger Sibling As A Non-Supe:

Growing up, you were kind of in the background, the shadows of your sisters success

Your mother put all her effort and dreams into Annie, creating a bit of resentment towards her and their relationship

Now that you're older, you know it wasn't love and affection that she was getting, rather it was pressure and constant critique

Sitting in the crowds of Annie's pageants, dragged along to events and celebrations for Supe kids, left to entertain yourself while your sister was doted on

Constantly hearing "Why can't you be more like your sister?"

Still, Annie did everything in her power to be the best big sister

She played with you and read to you and looked after you in school. She made sure no one messed with you or picked on you. As far as she was concerned, you might've been your mothers child, but you were her baby

Making your own Supe suit from dress up costumes and clothes you found around the house, pretending you too had powers

While your mother wouldn't entertain these ideas, Annie always called you whatever name you wanted, playing along with your "Supe powers"

When you two rough-housed she was always gentle with you, knowing she was so much stronger

You had to come up with your own dreams, your own ideas, since your mother wasn't projecting a future like she had with Annie

Going to college, getting a job, meeting someone, etc. Your milestones vs. your sisters seemed painfully average

Annie was excited for you, though. As silly as it might seem, she was, in a way, jealous. Where you saw average and boring, she saw safe and stable, a life uncontrolled by your mother

You're still in school when Annie gets the call about The Seven. You're overjoyed for her, but you can't help but think about how lonely it'll be here when it's just you and your mom

Annie was the glue holding your family together

You never miss an interview or appearance, everything she does and is part of is recorded so that you never forget this big moment for your family

Annie calls you once a week to fill you in on what's going on, leaving out the worst parts, both wanting to protect you from the truth and knowing she'll face consequences if she said anything

You're always sending her little things from back home: cards, pictures from your childhood, gift baskets, etc.

As far as you know, things are going great. She's living the dream your mother always had. Without her, you and your mom have little in common. She tries to take an interest in what you're doing, what you're studying, but for the most part she leaves you alone. You two have your own lives

You miss her a lot. Sleeping in your shared bedroom just isn't the same

You plan to fly out to see her between breaks in classes, but before then, she's deemed a traitor to The Seven. You call and text and even show up a Vought, demanding answers, but because you're not a Supe, you're not a member of the press, and you have no power, Homelander and Stormfront send you a way without answers

That's when you meet Hughie

Where The Two Lives Come Together:

He's heard all about you from Annie and gets your number from her just in case

When he realizes you're in the city, he makes his move, introducing himself as a friend with all the answers you could ever need

You're wary, but he shows you pictures and texts between him and Annie. If she liked him, if she trusted him, then so could you

He tries to ease you into the truth, but with Annie missing, you don't want to be lied to anymore. You're done being babied. You find out about everything: Compound V, and Homelander, and Vought, and everything

If you are a Supe, you feel this extra sense of fury towards your mother for poisoning you and your sister for her own gain

The Boys are wary of you: you seems down to earth and sweet, but naive. Even if you are a Supe, that still doesn't mean you're ready for this life. The constant danger, the harassment. They thought you should go back to Des Moines and let them handle it

Hughie sticks up for you, defending you, and eventually, you find your way on to the team, at least in Hughies good graces

When Annie gets out of Vought, defeats Stormfront, and wins her place back into The Seven, you take even more initiative with The Boys

You call your mother and tell her you won't be home for a while. She pries for more information, but you fear you've already given up too much

After Annie comes back to The Seven, her ratings are better than expected. You know it's safer for her to play along, even after Homelander announces they're in a relationship together

You try not to pry into her relationship, but you can't help but take sides: it's better this way, to "be" with Homelander. He can't hurt her if they're in a public relationship, at least not as much as he wants to

You and your sister argue about this (her safety) and yours. She doesn't want you anywhere near this kind of danger. She was trying to protect you from this, from Vought and Homelander

If you're not a Supe, you're more vulnerable

If you are a Supe, they know about you, your powers. They can figure out how to hurt you, kill you even

Regardless of abilities, she makes sure you don't let anyone know your real identity, making up a name for you to use with ID's and everything

She will do anything to protect you

Because you're so dedicated to one another, eventually The Boys realize maybe you're not so bad, maybe you have more to offer than they thought

When Hughie and Butcher get their hands on experimental V, you decide to take if you're not a Supe

Annie is furious at both you and Hughie. How could he let you take an experimental drug? How could he take it himself? She makes you both promise not to take it again, but both of you break that promise

You were always compared to your sister growing up, now you could be just like her, at least for a little while

After she publicly denounces her place at The Seven, she officially joins the team

Having her there with you feels like being back home, if you forget about everything else going on. Being with your sister, it reminds you what's important

Talking more to your mother, not necessarily being open, but talking nonetheless

"Mom, I'm fine. We're both fine."

She's furious Annie left The Seven and she blames you for her decision. Annie was always the perfect one, the better one. As far as she's concerned, you talked Annie out of it over jealousy and insecurity

Annie tries to stick up for you, but you know it's better if she gets it out of her system

Becoming fast friends with M.M. and eventually Kimiko

They both see what you're willing to do for your family, your sister, and there's a lot of merit in that

You're exceptionally close with Hughie. He sees you as a younger sibling too, someone to watch over and protect

Supe or not, Butcher still doesn't 100% like you, but the same can be said for any of them

Annie encourages you to keep up with your studies, to have that life you always wanted in the back of your mind, but you know, realistically, things will never be the same

Sending Hughie all of her most embarrassing pictures

In return, she tells him about your most embarrassing memories

It's not easy. It never will be. But when it's time to leave, you stick with your sister. If you're a Supe you get away with her, Hughie nodding at the both of you. If not, they take you with him. You beg her to go, get to safety, watching her abilities grow more powerful than ever before