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schemmentigfs · 1 year ago

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Future Milf, part one.

paring: melissa schemmenti x fem reader.

summary: what was supposed to be a normal monday morning at Abbott, ends up being a chaotic one after you lend Melissa one especific t-shirt.

warnings: sexual themes? The rest is just pure crack.

author notes: I got this idea after listening to M.I.L.F $ by Fergie? Anyways, it's finally here, I'm must say that I'm pretty proud of this one. Stay tuned for part two! And yes, I watched heartstrooper and thought the drum scene was cute, so I added here.

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

When you arrived at Abbott in that morning, one curious feeling of both happiness and anxiety coursed through your body. And even though you found it completely strange, you decided to ignore it.

“Good morning, Y/n!” Janine said waving to you in the hallway. “How was your weekend?”

You smiled noticing her presence, as much as everyone else always said that Janine's way of acting was a bit annoying. The other teachers had to addmit that she was a good person who was always willing to help when needed.

“Morning!” you replied, unlocking the door to your classroom, ready to start another day at school. “It was good! On Saturday, I went to my parents to visit them for a family dinner. And on Sunday I spent the afternoon at Melissa's place.” You let out a passionate sigh remembering the day in the company of your favorite redhead.

It was a lovely afternoon, you cooked together, talked about different things and at the end, you watched a movie together, with Mel's hands gently stroking your hair while you were lying on her lap. “Hon, you are so cute,” she whispered softly, leaving her famous bravado aside, and showing her sweet and loving side instead.

To be honest, you loved these moments with the older woman, it made you feel protected, relaxed and loved. Something you hadn't felt in a long time. Melissa Schemmenti was your safe place. That same tough second grade teacher who took almost three months to have a friendly conversation with you was now one of your best friends. Yeah, fate was something that was really fucking powerful.

After listening to your last words, Janine let a huge smile escape her lips, before she started to celebrate. “I knew it! I knew it!” The youngest said, jumping up and down excitedly.

“Knew what?” you questioned with a confused expression.

“It was a date, wasn't it?” she asked with hope in her eyes.

“No!”

“Wait what? I thought you and Melissa were dating. Guess I was wrong. Again.” The second grade teacher revealed, completely disappointed looking at you.

After seeing your friend's reaction, you widen your eyes in shock. Was she really serious?

“Janine, why did you think we were dating?”

“It’s kind of obvious, she calls you by cute Italian nicknames, brings you coffee every morning. Share her lunch with you, let you hug her, and she always laughs at your jokes! You two are practically married in the eyes of everyone who works here at Abbott!” She talked non-stop.

Janine could only be out of her mind, a relationship between you and Melissa was impossible to happen. You were co-workers for god's sake, and also the redhead was known for being completely closed off when it came to relationships. Since her divorce with Joe was a traumatic experience.

Deep down, you were completely in love with Melissa. But tried to suppresses your feelings, knowing it would never be reciprocated. After all, what would a beautiful woman like her want with someone like you?

It was painful, but you couldn't do anything about it.

Turning your head to the sides to make sure there was no one else in the hallway, you started talking. “What I have with Melissa is just a normal friendship between two women. Something platonic and not romantic! Okay?”

“But—” she insisted.

“Let's just forget about this.” You sighed and Janine finally gave up, nodding and giving you a sad smile saying goodbye and returning to her classroom.

“You can’t keep lying to yourself.” Mr Johnson’s voice caught your attention.

“Huh?”

“You like Melissa, and you know that,” the janitor says as he sweeps the floor, eliminating any sign of dirt. “You may not have noticed yet, but she likes you too. Act while you have the chance, otherwise you will regret it if she finds someone else.” He said, before leaving.

Now alone in the hallway, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, thinking about his words and Janine's. Were they right? No. They were insane.

“Why did everyone suddenly decide to give their opinion on my love life?” You grumbled, looking at the watch on your wrist. There were twenty minutes until the kids arrived, so you decided to stop by the staff room for some coffee and also to refresh your mind.

—

When you entered the teachers' lounge, you saw a curious scene. Jacob was completely nervous while Melissa was furious. Gregory and Barbara were there watching everything and trying to calm her down but without success.

“JACOB!” the redhead shouted angrily pointing to her pink sweater and looking at the young boy with a deadly glare. “LOOK WHAT YOU DID!”

“I'm sorry! It wasn't my intention, I ended up getting distracted and—” the history teacher stuttered nervously.

“JUST—” She almost started to argue again but stopped when she felt Barb's gaze and yours on her. “be more careful next time, we don’t want any accidents like this happening again,”

Jacob nodded, apologizing once more, returning to sit on the small sofa, next to Gregory. Focusing on the news that played on Channel 6.

“Dear, are you okay?” Barb asked worriedly, putting a hand on her best friend's shoulder.

“Yeah, the only problem is that I don’t have any spare clothes to wear.” Melissa responds.

Seeing the older woman's frustration, you decided to quickly help her, knowing that she was starting to get uncomfortable with her favorite sweater's situation.

“Don't worry, I can lend you one. I always keep one in case something like this happens.” You replied with a small smile.

Melissa sighed in relief, it was as if a miracle had fallen from the earth when she needed it most.

“Thanks, Stellina. You are an angel.”

You blush at the nickname she gives you. Maybe Janine wasn't so wrong. Just maybe.

“Let’s go.” you pulled her by the arm heading to your classroom.

—

You guided Melissa to sit in one of the chairs and closed the door, heading towards your drawer looking for the shirt. It took a long time to find it, as everything was slightly messed up. The redhead rolled her eyes, pretending to be impatient.

“Apparently it looks like youse need to learn how organize your things better.” The older woman mocks you.

“Shut up, Schemmenti. I’m trying to help ya,” after a lot of effort, you finally found it, “here, it’s a little wrinkled but I think it should be fine for you to use for the rest of the day,”

Melissa let out a soft smile, taking the shirt you handed her. “Thanks again for helping me. I appreciate this.”

“No problem, I’ll always give you a hand whenever you need it,” you replied with a shrug.

In the three years that you had known each other, She had done so many things for you. So it was only fair that you pay her back, right?

“Uh, I’ll turn around now so you can have more privacy to change,” you said and she nodded, giving you a thumbs up.

You turned around, facing the classroom door, letting out a muffled laugh when she mumbled, “Thank God I won't have soup on my body anymore.”

Everything was going normally, until you heard something else that made your heartbeat increase with each passing second.

“Future Milf, hm?” Melissa said inspecting the shirt, reading the print with a confused expression. “It’s probably a term that those of you who are young use. I liked it.”

Hearing that made you freeze, it was as if the whole world had stopped at that moment. It couldn't be. No. It could only be a completely ridiculous nightmare or dream of yours. She was a natural joker, always picking on you with some prank or something else. She was joking, right?

Fuck, had you really given her that shirt by accident? Oh shit, you were so screwed. The only good thing about this situation was that she didn't know what the word milf meant.

If she knew, you'd probably be dead by now.

Melissa snapped her fingers, a sign that you could turn around again. The action brought you back to reality, but you were too embarrassed to look at your friend in the eyes again.

“What do you think?” she asked, adjusting the t-shirt on her body, waiting for your answer anxiously. Melissa wouldn't never admit it, but your opinion was something very important to her.

You kept quiet, nervous about what had just happened. It felt like a nightmare, for some reason. After school, you would probably go to the supermarket to buy a giant bottle of wine to drink while watching some horrible Netflix TV show trying to forget all of this.

When you focused your gaze on her figure, your mouth opened into a big 'o'. She looked stunning, with her signature black leather pants, boots and well.. that t-shirt had made Melissa look so hot, that you couldn't look at anything else in the room. It definitely suited her.

“Y/n? What do you think?” She repeats.

“You look amazing, Lissa,” you say playing with the rings in your fingers. A common habit that occurred when anxiety took over.

Melissa, who was always perceptive, studied you carefully. “Hon, are you alright?” she asked with a bit of concern in her tone.

“Yeah, I'm fine, just was thinking about...” you stop trying to think of an excuse to explain why you were distracted, “a funny thing Janine told me earlier, that's it.”

“What would it be?” She asks.

“I—It's a very stupid thing, I mean you know how she is,” you let out a nervous laugh, “I think you better ask her at lunch, Mel.”

The redhead raises her eyebrows, a little suspicious. Just as Melissa was about to speak, the voices of the children in the hallway interrupted her, making you two realize how much time had passed.

“Oh! Our students.”

“Yeah, they arrived,” Melissa says, “Well, I think I have to go now, your little devils will be here at any moment. See ya at lunch?”

“Of course, and Mel?”

“What, hon?”

“You look beautiful.” It accidentally slips out of your mouth, leaving you pale and afraid of her reaction. Of course, you had already said that Melissa was beautiful several times, but this time something different was in the air.

You didn't notice the way her cheeks flushed.

“Thanks gorgeous,” the eldest grins and wink at you. Was she flirting?

When Melissa was no longer there, you covered your face with your hands to stifle a scream that threatened to escape your throat. What was supposed to be a calm Monday, turned into a chaotic one due to a slight mistake of yours.

—

Ava was passing in the hallway when she saw Melissa walking calmly to her classroom. The principal's eyes widened when she saw the redhead wearing a t-shirt with the words “Future Milf” printed on it.

“Why the hell is she wearing that? That's not something Schemmenti would wear. Especially at school grounds.” she whispered to herself.

By coincidence, Gregory was also in the hallway and was surprised by her pulling him by his coat.

“Huh?” the man said, confused. “Ava? What are you doing?”

“Relax handsome, I just need you to answer something,” she said, looking at him,“do you know why Melissa is wearing that thing? the woman pointed to the teacher.

“Y/n lent it to her after Jacob accidentally spilled food on her sweater earlier,” he explained. “Why?”

“Did you saw the damn print on it?” Ava asked, rolling her eyes and Gregory shook his head with a puzzled expression.

“Then wait and see at lunchtime. I'm telling ya, this is going to be more fun than any episode of The Kardashians!” she laughed looking towards one of the cameras.

—

Meanwhile, you tried to focus on teaching your students. But it was practically impossible. Every time you closed your eyes or tried to explain something. Your mind thought of Melissa wearing the damn shirt.

“Ms. Y/n? Are you feeling alright?” Leah, one of your students asked, snapping you out of your trance.

“Yes, sweetheart. Don't need to worry about me.” you replied with a calm voice. She smiled and returned to pay attention to her activity.

The hours passed quickly after that, much to your dismay. It was good on the one hand: in a while you would be home soon. But the bad thing was that you would have to lunch next to Melissa Ann Schemmenti wearing that fucking milf shirt of yours.

You thought of some solutions to avoid her presence, but gave up. Knowing it wasn't fair to do so. Defeated, you went to the staff room.

—

Barbara was looking for the redhead you wanted to avoid at that moment. The eldest knocked on Melissa's classroom door, waiting to be welcomed by the teacher herself or her aide, Ashely. But that didn't happen.

Determined, she decided to enter anyway, raising her brows when she saw a curious scene.

Her best friend was pacing the room while mumbling something. “Y/n, do you want to go on a date with me? We could go to a restaurant and—” Melissa said to herself, “No, too formal that doesn’t suit me. And I would prefer a date at home, where we could...”

The brunette now leaning against the wall let out a soft chuckle that scared the redhead.

“Jesus Christ!” Melissa gasped with her hand on her chest. The kindergarten teacher rolled her eyes, “Barb, you scared me to death.”

“Haven’t you asked her out yet?” her friend got straight to the point, “Oh Lord, you've already been faster than that. Tell me sweetheart, what's stopping you?”

The green-eyed woman looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, “I'm just scared. Y/n is only in her twenties, she has her whole life ahead of her and I'm already at a certain age. What will she want with me?”

Barb saw how her voice immediately sounded small and trembling, falling in love was a delicate thing in Melissa Schemmenti's life, her marriage was a totally traumatic experience. And after that, she completely closed herself off, thinking that being in a relationship wasn't something for her. That she simply didn't deserve to be loved.

But that started to change when you arrived in her life. It took Melissa a while to figure out the many confusing feelings she had for you. After several sleepless nights, questioning the butterflies in her stomach that always appeared when you were around, she understood that it was love.

But this realization scared her.

“I know it may seem scary but you have to try. Besides, don't you realize? That girl is crazy about you, just like you are about her,” Barb says trying to calm her, “Believe me, this time you will discover that love doesn't hurt.”

Her words made the redhead remember the moment she realized she was in love with you.

[...]

It was New Year's Eve and Melissa was speeding the night at your house. That same afternoon, she had attended lunch with her family and as much as she loved how festive the other Schemmentis were, but it seemed like something was missing from that environment, and that was you. And this feeling of longing made her run to your place immediately.

Now she was in your bedroom trying to practice on your drum kit, while you were laying down on an improvised pillow fort that both of you built together a couple of days ago. Honestly, playing the drums wasn't something Melissa knew how to do, so she played in a completely clumsy way without being able to find a certain rhythm.

“Schemmenti, you're so fucking terrible at this,” you joked. “It's so easy to learn.”

Pretending to be irritated by your words, the redhead reached for a pillow and threw it in your direction. Prepared to start a pillow fight if challenged.

“Hey!” you grumbled, raising your hands in the air in redemption. “Mel, I’m kidding!”

“Then show me instead of standing there, idiot.”

You slowly approached, sitting next to her on the small bench. “Alright, let me teach you a little.”

You held Melissa's hands in yours, first teaching her how to properly hold the drumsticks. “Hold them tight. And don’t let them slip out of your hands,” you whispered. “Good job, Mel,” you praised her, feeling her hold the drumsticks tighter. She blushed hearing that.

While you were extremely focused, showing her how to play the instrument. Her green eyes watched you with love and adoration, at that moment, she realized how lucky she was to have you by her side.

Her gaze fell to your lips and Melissa wondered if they were as soft as they appeared to be. She also wondered what it would be like to wake up every day next to you, with her arms wrapped around your small waist and with her placing small kisses into your hair. Or what it would be like to kiss and touch your whole body listening to your soft coos while she showed how much she loved you.

She bites her lips with all of those images in her mind.

After hearing the sounds of fireworks, you turn away from the older woman and open your bedroom window and climb up to a small outcropping of the roof. While Melissa watches you curiously, still sitting in front of the drums. "What are you doing? I wouldn’t want you to have an accident in the middle of the New Year.”

“I’m not going to have an accident,” you rolled your eyes, “I just want to see the fireworks!”

Melissa shook her head, finding your excitement adorable, deciding to join you. Carefully sitting by your side, she rested her head on your shoulder and closed her eyes, wanting to enjoy this moment with you forever.

“You know...I kind of missed you at my family's lunch today,” the redhead admitted in a shy tone, feeling her cheeks burn.

That was a surprise for both of you, since you knew that she wasn't very used to physical touches or showing her vulnerable side.

Noticing her nervousness, you said something that made Melissa feel more relaxed again,“I missed you too. Staying with you is so much more fun than being here alone.”

She hummed and snuggled into you even more, making a smile escape your lips. The two of you enjoyed the comfortable silence that settled in. Wishing more good moments like this would happen.

Returning from her memory, Melissa stood up and ignored Barbara's malicious look and headed towards the door ready to go to lunch.

—

You were already in the teachers' lounge, and every time you heard a step, you felt your heart stop. The plan to try to avoid Melissa was still going through your head, but neither option was good, suddenly an idea came.

You threw yourself on the floor and quickly crawled to a table near the windows, hiding under it, the cameras filmed your movements and your friends' confused reactions.

“Y/N! What are you doing?” Janine asks.

“Nothing,” you grumbled, praying to eat in peace, “I'm just having lunch, like a normal person does.”

“You are literally eating under the table. That’s definitely not something you would do and everyone knows that. And it's kind of weird.” Gregory notes.

You were surprised by Ava, who ran in. Not wanting to miss anything she knew was going to happen. The principal loved an entertainment and the whole school knew. “I don’t think Melissa would mind if you said you consider her a milf. She would probably love it, saying it's hot and all of that shit,” she shrugged.

“What?” Jacob questioned.

“AVA!” you scolded her, “You aren't helping! And by the way, how do you know about this?”

“Girl, I know everything. And I must say, it's the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“What’s going on?” Janine alternates her gaze between the two of you.

You explained everything in detail to all of them who to be honest found it all a bit comical, but seeing the way you were nervous made them take it back.

After hearing Melissa and Barbara's voices, you got scared and shrank even more under the table. Hoping they wouldn't notice you. But that didn't happen. When the redhead entered, all attention quickly went straight to her. The cameras zoomed in on what she was using and everyone was shocked.

“What are you looking at?” She growls in a threatening tone and the teachers return to focusing on their activities, afraid of her. You laughed, that was so Melissa. And that's what ruined the chance to avoid her.

“Dear? What are you doing under the table?” Barbara asks.

“I was just seeing if...the tables were in a good condition! That's it, actually, I have to go now,” you walk towards the door, but a firm hand on your wrist stops you.

“Where are you going? I thought we agreed to have lunch together,” Melissa spoke.

“It’s not a good idea for us to do that,” you pull away from her touch. Waiting for her to give in, but something unexpected happened.

She took the lunch bag from your hands, standing on her tiptoes so as not to let you reach and looking straight into your eyes.

“Give me that back now!” You complain and she shakes her head.

“Tell me, what’s really going on? Why can you barely look at me?” she whispers that last part.

“It doesn't matter.” You respond, feeling your blood rise and your breathing slowly fail.

“Can you stop acting like a child and act like an adult, for once?” She retorts, making you roll your eyes.

“FUCK YOU MELISSA,” you yelled and everyone gasped. In years of working at Abbott, you had never raised your voice to anyone, especially the redhead, “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”

Melissa's eyes widened, surprised to see you facing her and saying that stuff. A feeling of pain settled in her body, but obviously she didn't show it.

Impatient and without thinking twice. You threw yourself at the older woman, who got scared, losing her balance. Because of this, both fell to the icy ground.

Melissa hit her back, letting out a groan of pain, seeing what you had caused, you quickly stood up, getting off of her.

“I’m sorry, Lissa. I’m so fucking stupid,” you tremble, feeling tears come out of your eyes.

Feeling overwhelmed, you ran out of the lounge, leaving a bewildered redhead.

“Y/N, PLEASE COME BACK HERE!” Melissa's voice echoed throughout the school, now she was going to worry about trying to fix what the hell had happened between you two. And it wouldn't be easy.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #abbott elementary #wlw #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary fanfiction #x reader

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ykulovesocialsux · 6 months ago

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𝐘𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋---𝐘𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋

GUMMY

warnings: very smutty, heavy cursing, light angst, gambling!toji x blackfem! reader, lowercase intended, slight overstim, doggy style, manipulation, squirting, unprotected sex

minors/ageless blogs do not interact

socialsmutssocialsmuts

you were such a good girl, never getting in trouble in school, making honor roll, keeping straight A's and still managed to keep a great reputation and stay athletic. what happened?

you were your parents dream. good lord. you sighed stepping into the pub. this was a regular tuesday night for you. drunks and drinks spilling everywhere.

you rolled your eyes punching in your card. the only good thing about this place was that they paid very well, extra well. your turned off your phone before putting it into your locker along with your jacket and gloves.

you put on you apron tied up your curly hair and went back into the bustling crowd of people who definitely can't handle their liquor.

a few hours later a familiar face, a regular who usually comes on fridays and sundays had stepped into the pub. walking over to your a sly grin on his face.

damn he was so attractive to you, too bad. he obviously was still grieving his late wife as he told you one night when he had too much to drink.

you would never take advantage that.

"hey there, what brings you in today?"

you asked the same question in the same tone, to every single costumer.

a low growl comes from the back of this throat

"the regular."

you nodded your head in agreement and turned around to get the beer glass.

" your usually here on fridays and sundays?"

you said wiping off the glass.

he sneered at your comment. he scoffed just thinking about his week to far.

"i need to relax i can tell this week will be extra shitty."

you hummed in agreement. today just wasn't the day for anyone. you placed a beer with extra foam in front of him. his eyes softening as he looked at the bitter alcohol before him. he looked like he was salivating.

you turned your head to grab a towel to clean off the hose from the water dispenser. you turn back around to check on a few other people at the bar.

once you came back he was gone, typical fushiguro. his usual manners, an empty glass with his drink a little extra than what it costs.

you seen him to find him where he was. his usual spot at a slot machine was occupied by him.

it's every week with this guy. he doesn't have a kid or something? some friends? a life?

damn you felt bad for him, this obviously had to be a call for help or something. just wasting away his money, life, and liver. and all at a cheap pub like this.

after your shift you found him passed out drunk on the counter. his arms sprawled on the counter. a small puddle of drool on the cold surface.

his eye bags were prominent on his eyes. damn.

usually with costumers like this we call somebody to get them home safely but looking around his person trying to find a phone or something you couldn't call nobody.

you finished up your closing up duties, got you stuff from the lockers and took a shot. before prying the drunk grown man off of the counter. his head shot up.

a shrill sound coming from his mouth.

"what the fuck!?"

while walking down the road to get to your apartment a small hiccup came from his mouth. a burp following right behind it.

"s'were ya' takin' me?"

his head bobbed with each syllable.

"my place. i don't know where your place is at and you don't have a phone."

"aww y'er takin' me back t'yr place. we jus' meeeett"

you rolled your eyes, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you chuckle a bit.

making it to the apartment safely you unlock your place and place him on the couch.

"i'll get you some water and advil. the toilet is down the hall if you need it."

"thanks mommyyy~"

you were taken aback. you brushed it off, he's just drunk. slipping into the shower your once peacefulness and quietness ended as your heard the sound of gagging and vommiting. you poked your head out of the curtain and seen fushiguro throwing up all of the contents from his body before.

"don't get it on my carpet please."

he hummed before going back to throwing up. you finished your shower. and stepped out to see him near your toilet sitting down out of breath.

his hair was stuck to his forehead his body in a cold sweat. leftover contents from before were on his shirt.

you sighed and helped him up.

"you can't stay here like this you gotta change."

"I think the ones who gotta change is you."

he looked at you his eyes halfway open the height difference was devastating.

"unless you don't wanna."

his hands loly wrapped around your body that was wrapped in a white towel that stopped right before your knees.

"i'm gonna change."

you said taking his hands off of you. and walking out the bathroom. going into your room and closing the door behind you.

something was burning inside of you. that whole entire interaction made you wet. stop. you shouldn't be thinking about this.

"hey, so can i take a shower?"

"yeah go ahead. i'll wash your clothes. hand them to me when you get out."

staring at each other while his clothes were in your dryer. you gave him a cup of tea. his muscly body was hugging your robe. it was a funny sight to see. one wrong move he'd owe you a new one.

"so tell me about yourself." fushiguro said.

"i'm 23 i worked many jobs before i had the one at the bar. and im just trying to make a better life for myself."

he hummed in response.

"what about you?"

a long silence was all you heard for a long period of time.

"well, things haven't always been the best for me. i lost my wife, my kid, and im just a man trying to get by."

you hummed in response. interesting. this man was interesting. trying not to pry in his personal life unless he wanted to talk about it.

"so how did you end up here?"

"i've always been here. just never in this particular area."

you nodded you head in acknowledgment, not wanting to pry any further just in time the timer for the dryer dinged.

"i'll get those." You stood up from your little dining table leaving him alone in your living space. Taking his hot and clean clothes that smelled like fresh linen from the dryer. unknowingly a hot zipper touched your brown skin. you droppped the hamper on the floor.

"fuck!"

"you okay in here."

you jumped at the sound of his voice it's almost like he ran here once he heard you scream.

"yeah i'm cool the zipper on your jacket is hot."

he hummed taking in your hand to look at it. "you'll be fine."

he picked up the hamper and took his clothes at going into your bath room to change.

"hey is it cool if i crash here for t'night. i don't have enough money to get a train ticket."

you nodded in agreement.

"thanks i owe you one."

as the night settled, you both said goodnight to each other and went your separate ways. closing your bedroom door and going to sleep. so why was it so hard for you to sleep? tossing and turning, the sound wasn't you, it was the kitchen, somebody he was in your kitchen.

getting up from your plush and comfortable bed you walked into the kitchen, you look at him the light from the refrigerator illuminating his face.

"hey doll face, ya' got water?"

"yeah"

you walked in front of him grabbing a cup from the cupboard and handing it to him, you turn towards the refrigerator door and take out a pitcher full of water.

"here-"

you turn around as his big body was staring at your face, you never knew how tall he was. words came pouring out his mouth after a long silence.

"say, ya' got a boyfriend?"

"no"

"you ever been fucked before?"

"yeah"

"was it trash?"

"i seriously don't think that this is going somewhere-"

he moved you out the way and closed the door the only light in the whole room going out.

"the real thing is, i've been plotting on you, i want you, i want to fuck you. how a real man should."

his hands find your body, your waist to be exact. his beefy arms and lengthy fingers caress your flesh. him lightly squeezing you.

"you want to do this, yes or no."

the man lowly growled. its not like you didnt find him attractive this man was fine. the way the scar on his lip always made him look rugged, his thin black hair that stopped right before his beautiful eyes, and his voice. it just made you want to squirm.

"fine"

"yes or no doll face"

"yes"

his arms moved up from your waist and up to your face cupping your cheeks. he moved slowly. running his thumb on your cheek before finding you lips,

"so plump"

you felt his breath on your mouth before feeling his thin lips on your big ones. his tounge parting you lips apart. his hands were exploring you whole body. his hands stopping at your ass before giving it a tight squeeze. he gave it a harsh slap before picking you up.

your legs wrapped around his waist, and he fumbled in the dark finding your couch where he once resided. the kissing going on for as long as possible he layed you down flat before continuing to strip you down.

he was in a hurry to take off your tank top and shorts. he threw them somewhere in the vicinity. left in just your underwear. he took off his shirt and his sweatpants. the two of you were just in your undergarments.

it was dark but a tad bit of light from the moon was shining through the curtains you could tell he was jacked.

he kissed you again. the way he kissed you, it was so sensual, so passionate, so sexy. like he ment every muscle movement.

moving your panties to the side. you felt his breath on your dripping wet cunt. a long lick was felt a tingle had came from your body. a low whimper was shortly followed, and another lick, and another one.

his big mouth was fully engulfed in your pussy, his tongue working like a vibrator. his eyes hit the light as you looked down his eyes were on you first.

he put two fully fingers stuffed inside your pussy. inside your body, squelches and the plops emitting from your opening. his fingers having a slow yet rough pace at the same time, almost as if he was planning on doing everything to you. none the less you were still under his touch wondering what he was gonna do to you next.

his mouth still latched onto your puffy brown lips his tongue focusing on your clit while his fingers were working up a fire in your body. his free hand working its way up your body rubbing anything it came in contact with.

your moans could possibly be heard from other rooms in the complex. but you didn't care, not when you felt this good. when he said fuck you like a man he wasn't lying. no man had ever given you head this good before.

it's almost like you were about to-

"cumming!"

a deeper and louder sound came from his fingers, your pussy to be exact. letting go of your body he turned you over on your belly. face flushed with the pillow under you.

he moved your panties to the side again. his hands leaving a trail of your juices on your body as he went roaming on your person again.

as he was shuffling behind you. your whimpers and cries have gotten weaker. until he resting his long fatty dick on your ass. he grabbed you by the hips and put a one of long pillows on you couch under your stomach. putting you in the doggy style position. he made you maintain your arch. he teased you a bit playing with your pussy with his dick.

"you like this?" a harsh slap from his hand connected to your right cheek. "you like getting treated like this?"

"mmmmm, ya gonna love this shit"

and with that his tip inserted to your tight hole, your mouth opened wider the deeper he went. his kissed kissing your cervix. a low curse came from your mouth.

"s-s-shit".

he took his hips and moved backwards. preparing you for what's about to happen next. when you though his pace was about to be rough and hard. his hips snapped slowly back into your leaking pussy.

a soft moan came from the back of his throat. his buff hands found themselves on your hips. your hips bucking from the pleasure. you were squirming. everything felt sooo good. his dick pressing itself into you as deep as it possibly could his faint moans, he was obviously getting carried away too.

out of natural reflex your pussy squeezed him just right. so right enough a loud groan afflicted from his body. you used that to your advantage.

"fuck!"

fushiguro said. his hips stuttering in you he quickly pulled out so he could shoot hot thick ropes of cum on your back.

"ya gonna tighten that fat pussy around me like that. i should cream in ya'"

he shoved himself back in you going more faster than before, actually waaaayyy faster than before. he was full on drilling your pussy in. the lewd sounds coming from the both of you. he pushed your head down into the couch.

this was too much as you almost came to the edge of cumming again. he suddenly slowed down. tears filling up yours eyes this pain and pleasure the sound of his grunting and full on moans while he was in your ear and knee deep in your pussy.

"mmmnghh fuckkk keep going like you were before fushiguro."

slick was running down the inside of your thighs and you knew it was all on his long shaft.

"toji. when you moan my name, moan toji.

you whimpered in agreement. his pace going back to the vigorous and temping one once before. harsh slaps were connecting to your ass. left cheek, right cheek. ouuu this was what he meant when he said fuck you like a man.

"y'er pussy's like novacane."

another slap to your cheeks. "shit's so addicting. mmmngh fuuuuuuck."

he sped up once again this pace right here was the pace you needed to make you cum. a shrill moan came from you.

"ahhhh fuck tojiiii just like that!"

he kept that same pace guiding you to your orgasm. his hips snapping with speed you've never experience before. while his balls were slapping against your clit. another slap came to your ass as you squirted all on the couch.

"all up in there yeahhhh. those gummy warm insides."

his high was approaching soon his hips started stuttering inside you. a long curse came from his body as if he was holding it in.

eventually he pulled out of you to cum all on your back. two minutes later he was on top of you your bellies touching. your bodies heaving in imperfect paces.

"that was..."

"amazing?"

"yeah."

#black tumblr #ykulovesocial #black reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #fem reader

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nanamineedstherapy · 1 month ago

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Things Never Said @ IIM Ahmedabad

Summary: Gangs of Wasseypur x Shark Tank but everyone has rabies. Mainly Slice of life, but aggressive. Previous Chapter - [Tumblr/Ao3] A/N: Just a girl & the men she outgrew at IIM A. She’s their CEO now.

You met Gojo in a seminar on organisational behaviour. He walked in late, wearing sunglasses indoors and quoting Ratan Tata like he had brunch with him last Sunday. You were sitting in the front row, highlighting a Harvard case study like it was your diary. Margins filled with analysis. Head down. Voice quiet. Invisible in a room full of future CEOs who'd inherited their confidence from their CGPAs.

You thought he was a joke.

Then he smiled at you.

And for two years, you mistook that smile for something that belonged to you.

Nanami was in Finance. Quiet. Sharp. Efficient. You once tried to sit next to him in the library. He didn’t look up. Just plugged in his headphones and typed. You don’t think he ever learned your name. But he always borrowed your pen. Always returned it.

Suguru was in HR & Strategy. Always in black. Always alone. The type who read Ghalib in the back of marketing lectures and left in the middle of team projects “to think.” You once got paired with him for a group case study. He submitted it alone. Put his name first. You didn’t say anything. You just stayed up the whole night correcting his citations.

Shoko was in Healthcare Management. You both lived on the same floor. She was always with Utahime. The kind of girl people gravitated to. Soft smiles. Early dinners. Sincere LinkedIn posts. You once asked Shoko if she wanted to go out for chai. She said, “Rain check!” and never followed up. You never asked again.

Sukuna was in Analytics. Cold. Brilliant. Arrogant in a way only kids who were bullied in school could afford to be. He was the one who told the professor their dataset was flawed—during the presentation. Once, you asked him for access to his pivot sheet. He said, “Get good.” You never asked him again, either.

Ino was a junior in Marketing. Got bullied often.

Toji wasn’t a student. He was a Visiting Faculty. Operations Management. Taught like he hated the syllabus. Graded like he wanted to break you down and rebuild you as someone who could survive the market. You once stayed after class to ask about warehouse metrics. He looked at you like you were a spreadsheet that annoyed him. Then gave you a full breakdown on inventory gaps. On the board. Said “Don’t be useless” and left. You got the highest marks in the midterm. He never said a word about it.

You were just the girl with the files.

The one who showed up early, left late.

Over-prepared. Overlooked.

The one who knew her coffee order, her batch rank, and her backup career plan.

But not what it felt like to be wanted.

Except by Gojo.

He’d drag you to late-night chai breaks outside the hostel, feet hanging off the campus wall like you weren’t both drowning in debt and destiny. He used to steal your notes, call you “his brain,” joke about co-founding something big with you one day. Even call you “partner” like it was a promise.

Ask you dumb questions like “What would you name our company if we started one?”

You’d laugh. Give him your time. Your trust. Your softest version.

A part of you believed in maybe... it memorised those moments like scripture.

Until the day he brought Utahime to campus fest.

Held her hand.

Called her his safe space.

So while you were falling for him in between lectures and Excel models, he was falling for Utahime—the wholesome girl with a stable life and a skincare routine.

You skipped the next chai break.

Then the one after that.

He noticed.

But not enough.

You’d watch them walk across campus, Gojo smiling like an idiot, Utahime gently adjusting his collar.

You started carrying headphones. Even when there was no music playing.

After graduation, he called.

Said, “Let’s do this. Let’s build something.”

Said, “I can get the funding. You’ll make it real.”

Said, “You’re the smartest person I know.”

You said yes.

Not because you loved him anymore.

You buried that part of yourself the night he twirled Utahime under the fest lights—just hours before you lost your virginity, drunk, to some freshman whose name never stuck.

You said yes because you were tired of being the smartest person in the room with nothing to show for it.

And because his dad had money. And you had nothing left to prove.

Now, he’s your co-founder. You’re the CEO.

You run the company. The systems. The strategy. The team.

Gojo handles investors. PR. Slides with aesthetics and no numbers.

He still calls you “partner” during all-hands.

You call him a “funded clown” during lunch.

He brings you coffee during crunch time.

You never drink it.

He sends memes in the office WhatsApp.

You mute the chat.

He still asks, “Lunch?” after every board meeting.

You say, “Busy,” and go sit next to Kokichi just to watch his jaw clench.

You’ve never told Gojo the truth.

Never told him you liked him.

Never told him how you looked for excuses to study with him.

Never told him how you downloaded Utahime’s research paper just to hate-read it and realised Gojo had supplied her with your research.

Never told him how much it hurt when he called you safe, then picked someone else to be his home.

You buried those feelings in code, contracts, and caffeine.

And you never looked back.

And sometimes—when he looks at you like he wants to say something, but he never got the timing right for—you want to scream.

Because he could’ve had you.

You were right fucking there.

But he picked the safe girl. The nice girl. The girl who wouldn’t burn the world to build her own.

And now he’s alone in the glass cabin next to yours, rich off his dad’s name and your sleepless nights.

Still charming. Still clueless. Still trying.

While you’re the CEO.

You still hate him.

He doesn’t know what happened between you two.

---

A/N: He could’ve had her. Now do ya'll understand why she hates them all? Let me know in the comments if you’ve ever been the invisible one - who still ran the show? Or If you just want to punch Gojo in the face? That’s valid too.

Next Chapter - Fiscal Year from Hell - [Tumblr/Ao3]

All Works Masterlist

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mihai-florescu · 11 days ago

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I don't think I've been happier after finishing the first draft of a story :) I've kept a few friends updated on it, so you can read it in full now. Content warning for mentions of rape

A Child Without Sin

I was 5 years old when I finally understood the words my mom sang to me as lullaby:

"Twinkle twinkle little star,

I don't wonder what you are.

Venusian from so high,

Came down here to bless my life!"

On a day like any other in my small kindergarten class, us kids were tasked with singing a well known lullaby. Confidently, I chanted the words that had enveloped me since infancy, the ones that penetrated even the womb to soothe me before anything else. As I would come to learn, I was the only one who sang these lines. That day, I returned home and sheepishly asked her why ours was the only family who knew this version.

"Oh dear, it's to keep us connected to our roots!" she said ever so cheerfully, beckoning me to sit on her lap. "We come from the planet Venus, the morning star watching over Earth. But it is a secret we must keep in order to blend in with Earthlings now. Never tell anyone about our truth."

I was 7 years old when I truly understood why this secret must be kept. On my way back from school, a huge commotion occurred at the house with plump carnations by the entrance. But on that day, the flowers were limp as doctors and policemen pleaded for compliance with a panicked woman behind tightly shut blinds. Noises and crowds tend to startle me and I quickly walked past. It wasn't until recess the next day I learned that Miss Olympia had been taken to a psychiatric facility against her will after confessing a strange thing to her lover. That she is a citizen of Jupiter sent to Earth to supervise humanity's development.

"My daddy thinks she's a foreign spy. Mommy says she's just unwell and a good dose of pills will set her straight again. Whatever the truth, I think she's nuts," a brazen boy from my class pronounced his condemnatory verdict.

"But she was always nice to us! My auntie brings me to have tea with her sometimes and there's never anything strange. She bakes chocolate chip cookies and does crossword puzzles like everyone else!" objected an otherwise quiet, mild-mannered freckled girl.

"Oho, maybe you too are her accomplice? Should I ask my daddy to have you taken in for interogation and thrown into the loony bin too?" retorted the boy. His father worked for the local police and everyone feared upsetting him, so we usually just let his son have the last word.

And that was the last of Miss Olympia anyone talked about. From that day onwards, I didn't want to eat chocolate chip cookies anymore.

I was 10 years old when I got asked a question I had pondered myself too: where is papa? It happened at the Sunday farmer's market, when my semastress mother was perusing the stalls with a hawk's eye and twice the determination for a good find. I was sitting patiently in the shade outside, observing the shapes made by sunlight peeking through leaves on the ground. A well-meaning lady approached and cooed to me like a stray cat:

"Hi sweetie. Did you get lost? Where are your mama and papa, should I help you find them?"

Wanting to return to my shapes, I shook my head and gave a quick response that mom will return shortly. But the question stayed with me long after she left, a question small enough to fit in the gaps of pavement, but holding the entire world's weight on its back; I wouldn't learn the full truth of its weight for another decade. For a while, I hadn't questioned it. My mom and I were happy just the two of us, and I often felt that the visitors we had, rare as they were, intruded needlessly in our lives. We must keep the secret of our origins, and humans in the house were dangerously close to our secret, sacred base. My mom felt similarly. After every visit she would slump on the living room sofa pale and drained of energy.

Then at school, we learned that babies come from the union between man and woman. I assumed this must be the case for Earthlings, but us Venusians hailed from the stars. Besides, I wasn't sold on the human baby thing either if I was being honest. Tania from my class also lived with just her mom, and Paul had no mother until he gained one last year when his dad married Miss Abbott, the geography teacher. So clearly, human children came from all types of backgrounds too. Not that they concerned me as an extraterrestrial though. Despite saying this, I soon began to question my assumptions about Venusian nativity.

I decided to breach the subject that Sunday evening, a research into my lineage.

"Do you have a Venusian mother too?" I coyly asked my mom after dinner.

"Once... a long time ago. On Venus," she answered pensively.

I decided to push my luck.

"And... did you have a father?"

"No. I was the result of an immaculate birth, as is custom for Venusians," she said, this time with the slightest tinge of irritation perceptible in her ever warm tone.

Well, that settled it. I also must have been born the same way. But it was clear she didn't enjoy talking about this, so I concluded my research with one last question.

"Why were we sent to Earth?"

At this, my mother didn't reply. She just stared out our small kitchen's window at the setting sun with glossy eyes, avoiding my inquisitive, unsatiated gaze.

I was 16 years old when I fell in love with a boy for the first time. His father filled a vacant history teacher position at our school, so along with yellowed maps and stuffy encyclopedias, he brought his son too. Lucas was a fair, slender boy who kept to himself. He was quiet and studious, and the other boys teased him for seeming stuck up. But underneath the mask of a teacher's model student son, I felt attracted to the the shine in his black eyes – like stars in the night sky.

I began to steal glances more and more in class. Under my dedicated watch, his features seemed to open up, to reveal the depths he was hiding. Blond strands of hair shone bright as if set on fire by the afternoon sun. His long limbs were well calculated in their movements, unlike other lanky classmates' of his stature. Pale fingers handled his ink pen with reverence for the craft of writing. I concluded: like me, he must have been sent by the heavens too. If not a Venusian, for I had never met a male one and wasn't sure if they existed, then at least a neighbouring star.

My growing fondness did not go unnoticed. A few times Lucas caught me staring and, with an actor's precision, offered intentional tucks of his hair behind the ear. Imperceptible to everyone else, for my eyes only. I would soon learn that was his sign of being flustered and that he too saw me as special.

Since puberty, I was often told my looks were growing more and more striking by the day, and people were beginning to look at me differently. I was glad that I started to resemble my mother more, which solidified my faith in the immaculate conception behind my birth. These changes did not go unnoticed by my peers either and, soon enough, I was getting invited to dates at the cinema or a cafe by the boys in my class on a regular basis. With a plastered remorseful look, I turned down their pleas claiming I am focusing on upcoming exams even in my leisure time, which earned me the same stuck up allegations as Lucas. That made me happy; even though I couldn't show my alien roots, I was setting myself apart from regular humans regardless. When Lucas asked me to take a walk through the neighbourhood park one day after school, I accepted.

He gently took my arm in his and we walked for hours, exchanging almost forgotten tales and impressions about the world we lived in. He was wise, unlike other boys our age, and I could drink his words for hours. My growing fondness was pushing me to open up about the secret that must never be revealed, but my better judgement forbade it. In the end, I conceded to tell him at a later time. With a quick peck to my cheek we parted ways near my house, where my heart soared and flipped through the sky like a robin's morning song.

Enveloped in feelings of love, a pure, shy first love, I floated up to my room. Soon after, my mother approached, closing the door behind her. A rapid-fire interrogation followed.

"Who is that boy you were with?"

"A classmate, Lucas."

"Aha. And is he a good boy?"

"Very. Has the best grades in the class and behaves like a real gentleman."

I could sense her internal gears rotating as she processes, like a Xerox ready to print.

"I... I would prefer it if you didn't see him anymore. Not privately, not just the two of you," her mouth finally gave form to the struggles inside her.

"Why? Do you not trust I can make good choices of whom I meet with?" I sensed this was too hostile, so I tried to appeal to rationalism. "But you have raised me so well, there's nothing to fear. My judgement is sound and unclouded by fleeting, feeble feelings."

"That's not..." she hesitated before speaking up again, going for the same tactic as me. "I'm just trying to teach you our people's ways. Venusians mustn't date humans. It is not acceptable for us, that's all. Don't hate me for upholding our people's rationality, dear. I'm forbidding you this only because I love you more than you can imagine."

And that was that for the conversation. How could I argue against the Venusian ways she held so dear? Still, I continued to see Lucas behind my mother's back, all while my worldview continued to shift under my re-examining eye.

I was nearing my 18th birthday when I finally confronted my mother. Almost 2 years had passed since meeting Lucas, whom I was even now terribly in love with. During our next meeting after my mom's ban, I confessed to him what had happened, including our Venusian secret. He stayed quiet, weighing up the facts, and finally set his enchanting eyes back on me, offering a smile. He was unsure what to think of the whole ordeal. Nevertheless, seeing it was important to me, he chose to believe it too, if that would make me happy. He did, however, ask for proof. Not for himself, but for my own reassurance in the validity of these claims. He loved me, but my mother not so much, and his serious concern scared me at first. Then I realised that, besides my mother's words, I had no tangible proof of anything I thought I knew as irrefutable truth.

I began to observe my mother through a new lens, that of a skeptic. I alone woke up early to gaze upon Venus before the rest of the world awakens. We didn't hold feasts for any Venusian holidays or practice prayers aimed towards our home star. She never taught me the writing system of our people. Perhaps in the pursuit of blending in, my mom chose to not teach me, or maybe she didn't know it either. But she didn't seem to long for our home planet too terribly. In fact, the only major difference in her activities from our human counterparts were the interactions. In those rare visits, the ones I perceived as draining in my childhood from having to suppress our secret, the guests were always women. My mother never spoke about men of her own accord, and tensed up when I'd mention the names of male teachers or famous actors.

I compiled this evidence in my heart for two years until the dam overflowed and burst. It happened on a warm spring night, the kind that playful fireflies love. I had meant our talk to be a light one, about my future schooling. A bright student, I had been accepted in a prestigious university across the country, and I wanted to accept. Lucas had already confirmed his attendance in autumn.

My mother, however, had other plans.

"I couldn't be prouder of my baby for doing so well in school! But don't you think that place is a little far? How's this: I've been talking to Susan at work and her daughter is in an embroidery apprenticeship in the next town over. She can put in a good word for you too and you'd share a room. Then once the program is over, you can transfer to our shop and do the details on my pieces. What do you say?" she asked with such a bright tone it caught me off guard.

"Mom... Titania. I appreciate the thought. But I don't want to work with clothing. Attending this university is the best chance for me to make a name for myself in academia. I know being far away must be scary, but I will come visit. I just can't stay in this town forever," I once again appealed to reason.

My mother's eyebrows forrowed and her cheerful tone faded like rays of sun at dusk.

"I just want to protect you! What do you know of the dangers out there? Who can understand you better than me? I had to face this life alone, you don't!"

"But what if I want to? What if don't want to stay in your fantasy?" I felt the words slip out of my mouth before I had the chance to swallow them back.

"My... what did you say?"

She was hurt and confused, I could tell. But I couldn't stop the faucet now opened.

"I know you are lying to keep me cautious around other people. You made up this Venusian story for some reason, probably loneliness, so that I'd depend on you, my only kin in this human world. Well, even that is shady, you and your immaculate birth tall tale. But it's time to end the ruse. I need to take off the hinders of this story and move about in the world."

My mother sat silent and very still, tears welling up in her eyes. And then she spoke, more pronounced and certain as she went on. She began shaking.

"You are wrong..." she whispered, more so to convince herself than me. "You and I are both Venusians. I brought you into this world as is customary for our people! Or else... or else it would mean that really was true, and it simply can't be. I won't allow it to be!"

Her elusive words stumped me. I had expected her to get upset with me for unveiling her tricks, but her resentment was targeted somewhere else. To see this tenacious, warm woman who raised me on her own, reduced to shivers...

"Mom!" I hurried to embrace her, to stop the shaking, as if my body could play the role of a blanket, as if merely that was enough. I began stroking her hair. "Tell me... tell me everything. What is it you've been hiding from me, from us both? I will listen."

The shivers continued, accompanied by an orchestra of sobs and wails as I continued to pat her head and back through it. When her tears dried up, the waterfall of words began. Sickening, terrible words I couldn't bear to hear, but deep down always wanted to know.

She told me of her first love and getting drunk at a party; of hazy hands on her body and a feeling that something was not as it's supposed to; of coos in her ear urging sleep; of waking up alone in a bed she didn't remember laying in; of a nonchalant breakup through laughter on his side; of aches and sickness the following months until a doctor confurmed the pregnancy; of an explosive father and ashamed mother and the shakles of blame on a teenage girl who didn't even understand what had happened. So she ran away, and her mind built a wall around the memories in the form of a story. In this new life, she could accept her baby girl, brought by fate through immaculate conception. Venus was a beautiful dream, and I was part of its verity.

The skin of my body was stitched by dreams, but I began to outgrow it. In finding my own life, I had to shed the skin my mother so painstakingly gave me. We remained in that perfect embrace, warm like my stay in her womb had been. I understand, I understand. I've always understood deep in my heart. But I must live my own life, under my own star. My mother has taught me to respect the stars and the harmony they weaved, so she understood when the time came to let me go.

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seriesxwriting · 1 year ago

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I can’t get you off my mind <3

- w Rafe Cameron

Series: outer banks

warnings: Swearing, kissing, female objectifying (by topper).

Summary: topper stirs the pot by lying about what rafe was doing at the party last night. Do you believe him or not?

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 <𝟑

“What are you doing later? Do you wanna stay?” I mumbled into his top. I was laying on his chest and we were wrapped up in my green flowery covers. His arm was around me resting on my hip, he was wearing a black T-shirt so I could see his muscles where the sleeves ended. My right hand was on his bicep. I liked just holding onto it. “You want me to stay already, I’ve only been round twice” he giggled making me look up at him. His blue eyes staring deep into mine.

“Not to do anything” I shoved his face jokingly “I just like your company- you ever had a girl say that to you before?” I raised my eyebrow when he looked back at me with his famous smirk. “Something similar, but I’ve never reciprocated that” he told me dragging his thumb across my jawline. “No? Never?” I smiled showing my teeth, his head bent down. “I’ve never liked anyone like I like you” he licked his lips before pressing them against mine hungrily.

Me and Rafe were in what the kids call today a ‘talking stage’. He claims to have these deep feelings for me and I know I have them for him. Who on figure eight didn’t have those feelings for Rafe Cameron. He was in the year above me and everyone in my year creamed over the sight of him, I know it was the same for the girls in his year and even probably some of the boys. But with the reputation of Rafe Cameron I asked him to keep us on the low down.

We’d only told our friends really and we never went to crowed public places together. I wanted to just share this with him right now, so I can build trust with him and see if there is any room for a relationship.

“So, are you staying?” I questioned pulling away from him and running a thumb across his lips. “As much as I’m tempted right now, I’ve already rsvp’ed to a party” he told me tucking my hair behind my ear. My stomach sank. The weather had been crap recently, it had been storm after storm after storm. There hadn’t been any party’s not since me and Rafe started talking. “I know, this is the first one huh” he raised his eyebrow as if he could read my mind. “Yeah” I answered smally. “I told you that I’m going to prove to you my reputation don’t apply to you”.

“I hope that’s the case” I smiled taking his hand in mine and playing with his fingers. I rolled over onto my back so I could look at the ceiling. “I promise you, no drugs, no hoes, just me, the boys and a few beers” “but what if they egg you on?” “Babe I have my own mind, you’re all that’s on it” he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back towards him. His arms wrapped around my torso and his head in the crease of my neck. “Okay Rafe” I kissed the top of his head. He kissed my neck and then my jaw in response.

We stayed wrapped up just talking for a couple of hours before Rafe left me with a long kiss to remember him by before he went to his party. I didn’t know who was hosting it, but the fact that I wasn’t invited meant it was probably one of rafes drug friends that hadn’t gone to school with us. His replies weren’t too bad at the beginning of the night. But around eleven ish he stopped replying to my texts. I gave it two hours before I rolled my eyes and went to sleep.

In the morning I woke up to rays of sunshine slipping through my blinds and onto my face. I rolled over after rubbing my eyes and snapped my charger out of my phone. Rafe had replied, and also added a good morning text on the end of it. I smiled to myself forgetting all the worry and negativity I was feeling last night. I answered him back before getting up to go and brush my teeth. He asked me what my plans were for the day and seems I never do anything on a Sunday I told him I was free. He invited me round his and seems the weather was nice, told me to bring my swimming costume.

I quickly showed and got myself all ready to go to rafes. He lived a five minute walk away so I chose to not take my car and soak up the sun as I made my way to his house. As I turned the corner topper was driving past me. He slowed down stopping next to me and looked me up and down. “Hey y/n, looking good these days” “you alright top?” I nodded at him gripping my bag tightly. I felt uncomfortable under his gaze. “Not too bad, just heading down to the beach to meet kelce, where you off to?”.

“Going round rafes, think we’re just going to chill by the pool” l shrugged looking around the street. “Oh? Didn’t realise you guys were still on tings” his eyebrows slammed up and this shocked look spread across his face. It looked so genuine. “Why’d you think that? Has he said something” “no- no he hasn’t said anything, just thought well- the things he was doing last night didn’t exactly scream happy in a relationship”. My heart sank. “What- what things top?” I questioned walking closer to his car.

“I don’t wanna mess anything up y/n- look maybe it was all just- an accident because he was high” topper but his hands up in defence. “but he told me he wasn’t going to do any drugs” my eye slimmed as my heart kept cracking. It was getting closer and closer to shattering. “Maybe I should just stop talking” “no topper- please tell me what happened” I begged with my eyes, they were probably glossy in the moment. “You wanna know more? Or I can take you back to mine and I can show you how a real man treats a girl like you” he shinned at me.

“You’re a pig” I stepped back scowling at him. “Let me know if you change your mind babe, I can be a rebound” he winked at me before pulling away from the curb and driving on. I watched as his car got smaller and smaller down the road. My eyes were fighting back the waves right now. My heart physically hurt. I turned back the way I’d come and went straight back home. I bravely walked past my parents but as soon as I reached my bed my eyes started leaking. I didn’t bother changing I just flopped onto my mattress and cried into it. My covers still smelt of Rafe. That made everything worse.

—————————four days later————————

I’d avoided Rafe for four days. He’d spammed my phone for the first two, the texts got less and less over the next two days. Probably because he came to my house and I got my father to turn him away. Nothings more scary than the dad of the girl you’ve hurt. I’d seen him around school but I dodge him and was able to hide anytime he saw me. I’d turn the other way, drive off as quickly as possible. Left no room for him to start conversation. I didn’t want to talk to him, look at him, fall for him again by him waving a wand and saying sorry.

I had to be strong. But it was day five now meaning we’d reached Friday. And this Friday was the film night. Me and my friends had been planning out the snacks and the chairs and the pillows and the blankets we were bringing for months now. There was no way I could get out of it. There was a possibility Rafe would be there, it wouldn’t be a hundred percent but there was a chance.

The car stopped in the car park and the girls got out with all our stuff, ready to find a space and set it all down. “Y/n do you wanna go get the drinks?” One of my friends asked with a big smile. I nodded feeling slightly hesitant. They wouldn’t let me use Rafe as an excuse, none of them were surprised when I told them what happened. It was kind of disheartening, I thought my friends would be way more supportive. I wondered towards the drinks table before hearing a “y/n! what’s up”. I turn around to see Rafe walking away from his boy group and towards me. He tried to do it calmly acting like he didn’t care in front of his friends “Rafe- um- not much” I turned from him giving him my back. But I could see the panic on his face.

He raced in front to catch me so I was looking at him “how are you, why are you avoiding me?” He questioned looking down at me. Our bodies were almost touching and he was leaning in close to my face whispering. I got goosebumps. “I should have known you were playing a game Rafe” I folded my arms creating space between us. “What are you talking about y/n, I can’t get you off my mind, what games” his hand flew up to his temple as if he was desperate. His eyes looked sad as he stared directly into mine. It wasn’t like that day he was at mine, they were desperate now not flirty. “Uh it’s such a shame Rafe- I really thought we had something” I shook my head stepping backwards.

“Top told me what happened at the party Rafe”. The words felt like I was being stabbed in the heart all over again. I wanted to melt into the floor. His eyes widened and his teeth gritted together. He really looked like he was going to give up and admit what he’d done. “The fuck you mean topper told you? Told you what?” Rafe shook his head pulling a face of disgust as if I didn’t know what I was talking about. I just laughed and began to walk off. He grabbed my hand and pulled me back staring into my eyes hard. “Y/n, I didn’t do anything at that party, I promise” “that’s not what he told me”. Rafe looked across at the boys before saying “Come on then” he interlocked our fingers and pulled me over to his group.

“Rafe- please no” I shook my head trying to pull back. “I’ve got you I promise” he rubbed my my hand. “Top, what is this about you telling y/n I was doing shit at the party, what type of shit?” Rafe question raising an eyebrow. All the boys turned to look at topper. He looked around before looking me up and down. I was wearing Jean shorts and a little lacy white top, his glare always felt so sexualising and uncomfortable. He started laughing as if he didn’t know what to say, his arms came out and then slapped his knees.

“Does anyone else remember me doing shit at the party?” He looked around the group and all the boys either shook their heads or shrugged. “So- why’d you stop replying to me?” I asked him in a small, innocent voice. “Around eleven?” Kelce asked me, I nodded my head a bit confused about how he knew. “Rafes phone died so he went to put it on charge in the kitchen, but we were outside”. I turned back to rafe and he was looking at me already, as if to say I told you so. I self consciously wrapped my arms around my waist. He saw this and took a step closer to me putting an arm on my shoulder blade.

Rafe then turned back to topper “what the hell did you say bro?” “I may have indicated that you did some drugs- and acted- un loyally” topper shrugged with a smirk on his face not caring at all that he’d caused massive problems between me and Rafe. “Why would you lie to me? I’ve never done wrong by you topper” I frowned furiously, wanting to know the why behind all this. “Same reason rafe’s with you, to get you into bed” he shrugged as if that wasn’t disgustingly downgrading, uncouth and disrespectful. I stood there horrified, my stomach twisted.

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that” Rafe made a massive step towards topper but the boys all jumped up and held him back. “Calm the fuck down Rafe, she’s just a girl” “she’s my fucking girl topper! You remember that!” rafe pointed at him angrily shouting and struggling against the boys. At this point lots of people were looking towards our little group. “You’re telling me you actually have feelings for her?” Topper threw his head back laughing.

“Yes! I fucking do! And you almost ruined it, your a selfish bastard- get the fuck out of here” Rafe pulled away from the boys backing up next to me again. “Rafe calm down- I didn’t think it was that deep” “it is” he replied, still pointing at him in furry. “Go home” Rafe ordered moving his hand now to the truck. Topper looked around for support from the other boys but he didn’t receive it. “Fine, god you’re so sensitive these days” topper rolled his eyes picking up his chair.

Rafe watched as he packed up his things and got into his car without looking back. “I can’t believe he’d make shit up because he wanted to sleep with your girl” kelce scoffed watching as the car drove away. “I promise you y/n nothing happened at that party, you have this guy wrapped around your finger, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you, you’re all he talks about, the way he smiles when you text him- I’ve never seen him like this” kelce relayed to me confidently, making Rafe stand there awkwardly rubbing his arm and turning bright red.

“Shall we go and talk?” I smiled genuinely brushing his arm with one finger, Rafe nodded his head and threw his arm around my shoulders like a scarf as we left. But before we did he gave a little head nod to his friend as a sign of respect to him. Me and Rafe went over to the side of the field where it was a little quieter. We sat down on a bench and I took his hand playing with his fingers. “I’m sorry I didn’t just- speak to you about it” I sighed talking in a small voice, I was embarrassed about how I handled the situation.

“Y/n I’m not mad at you, I’m not surprised you believe him I know I- have a reputation” rafe chewed on his lip, looking around. “But I’m done with all that, túnel visón now only, ya know” he nodded to make sure I agreed with him. “You really like me?” “There’s no words for how much I like you babe, but yeah let’s go with that” he smirked, I put my hand on his cheek and mirrored his smirk before leaning in to kiss him.

He kissed me like he thought he’d never have the chance to again. He kissed me like he had missed me and that I loved. I matched his energy feeling my insides grow butterfly’s and my cheeks get hot. “I really like you back Rafe” I whispered leaning my forehead against his. “So no more secrets? Let’s be official, that way you can come to the parties with me” he smirked rubbing my cheek with his rough thumb. I nodded excitedly throwing my arms around his neck hugging him.

“Gosh, the privilege of being your first girlfriend” I giggled. He squeezed me “first and last, babe”.

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drewsbuzzcut · 2 years ago

Text

All American Lace

nick moldenhauer x dallas blankenburg

a so it goes fic (7.3k words! def the longest i have ever written)

warnings: angst, insecurities, jealousy, slight physical touch, pettiness, mentions passing out, and I think that’s all but let me know if I missed anything

SUNDAY

“I really don’t think it’s all that crazy,” Nick states, his arm thrown over Dallas’ waist as they lay in his bed.

“Just because it’s crazy, doesn’t mean it’s bad. It’s very crazy if we get married. We’re only 19,” Dallas says through a sleepy voice. They’ve been talking about Nick’s proposal from a month ago. Dallas knows her answer, yes of course, but she still can’t get herself to go through with it. She’s too ridden with fear of their relationship failing because of an early marriage. She just needs a push, though. One push so she can say yes.

“So what? Nathan and Haley got married while they were still in high school. I know our relationship is strong enough to last through anything,” he brings out the big guns, referencing one tree hill, one of their favorite shows to binge together.

“That’s just a show, babe. It isn’t real life.”

“It can be real life for us,” he sighs, hand caressing her cheek as her hand rubs at his shoulder.

Screw it. She’s going to go with her gut and heart and finally answer his question. Maybe they can go browsing at thrift stores for vintage dresses. It is Sunday after all.

“Nick, I love you so much.”

“I love you.”

She kisses his lips, barely brushing against them.

“I will-“

“Nick! You have a visitor!” The couple hear the shout from behind the door.

Nick gives a confused look to Dallas before getting off the bed and getting dressed.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, walking out the door.

Dallas stays frozen, angered that her opportunity got ruined. She gets off the bed, throwing on one of his shirts that has his last name on the back, and follows her boyfriend. When she gets to the front door, she freezes, feeling a sense of discomfort washing over her. Her boyfriend was hugging another girl. Another girl who is absolutely beautiful. She has soft skin, long red hair, and the greenest eyes she’s ever seen. Her smile is beautiful and Dallas thinks she might be feeling jealous. Who is this girl and why is she hugging her boyfriend?

When Nick finally lets go of the unknown girl, he turns around and is quick to spot Dallas. His smile is wide, like a kid on Christmas.

“June, this is a close friend from home, Inez.”

So she has a name. Inez. It’s beautiful and rare to Dallas’ ears.

“Inez, this is Dallas my girl-“

“His fiancée,” Dallas interjects, reaching out her hand for Inez to shake.

“Fiancée? Wow, Nick, you never told me you were getting married. Congrats,” she cheers, although Dallas can hear the surprise in her voice.

Nick’s stuck on Dallas, silently freaking out that she just called herself his fiancée. He’s shocked by her words, not really understanding why she’d introduce herself with that title without even giving him an answer first. He shakes his conflicting thoughts out of his head, not wanting to open up that conversation at the moment.

“Yeah, my fiancée,” he pulls his girl into his arms.

“Well, Dallas, it’s really nice to meet you. I can’t say I’ve heard much about you though,” Dallas grits her teeth, her brain starting to create reasons as to why Nick never brought her up to his friend. She didn’t know that Nick hasn’t talked to Inez in months.

“I can say the same,” she decides to answer with.

“I guess that means we have to get to know each other. I hate to impose, but I really need to shower all the airport off of me. Do you mind, Nick?” Her voice is soft and sweet. Dallas finds it annoying.

“No, go ahead.”

Once she’s out of sight, Dallas turns to Nick with a questioning look.

“Okay, so who are we getting to babysit her while we go to the thrift stores?” Dallas asks, albeit a bit rudely, but she disguises it by leaning up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“She’s not a child. I can’t go to thrift stores today. I need to stay here with Inez,” he says softly. He’s bothered, she can tell by the way he barely touches her.

“It’s Sunday, though. We always go to the thrift stores,” she points out.

“Well, I can’t go today,” Dallas doesn’t know it, but by Nick not going, or suggesting they take Inez, he’s protecting their sunday tradition. He does feel guilty for breaking it, though. They always go to the thrift stores on Sunday unless he has a hockey game or other team requirement.

“Are you serious?” She spits out, already wanting to burst into tears. He’s never put her second to another girl.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he kisses her forehead.

“It’s whatever. I’m going to head out, stick to my Sunday tradition,” she mutters, throwing a low blow at him. The tradition did start off as her own, so she’s letting him know that it’ll always be hers even after involving him.

He feels his heart pang in his chest at her comment.

Dallas trudges through his room, collecting her items and dressing in her clothes. She walks past him, not even saying bye, and makes her way to her car.

If she sped all the way to her favorite thrift store while blaring angry Taylor Swift, well no one had to know.

Dallas hates to admit it, but being at the thrift store doesn’t feel the same without Nick. She kicks herself for being so harsh. She knows she’s in the wrong, and probably being too jealous, but she couldn’t help it. How could he choose Inez over her? Over their sacred tradition.

Sweet, perfect Inez. Dallas rolls her eyes at the mere image of her. Stopping at one of the mirrors in between aisles, she stares at herself. She hates that she’s letting herself dig a hole that she knows she won’t be able to climb out of. She takes a deep breath in, slowly breathing out every insecurity and horrid thought of the girl that now plagued her mind. When she opens her eyes, she spots an old wedding dress. It’s the most beautiful dress she’s ever seen. It has a bunch of lace and it was made in America. It’s also vintage and in perfect condition. A rare find. Dallas immediately puts it in her cart, feeling giddy at the thought of her wearing it when she marries Nick.

About an hour later, Dallas decided to head to checkout, purchasing the dress, a white button up for Nick, and a fancy watch for him as well.

Once back at her own place, in her room she finds an old box that’s ready to be filled with anything that has to do with their wedding. She feels a little crazy thinking about it, but she knows that she wants to marry Nick. She knows that she doesn’t want to wait.

MONDAY

Dallas opens her door to find Nick who immediately pulls her into a bone crushing hug. He noses at her hair, inhaling her addicting scent and kisses her lips a few times.

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, Nicky.”

“I hope it’s okay that I brought Inez with me,” and just like that Dallas is back to feeling unwell.

She sucks it up, welcoming the girl into her home. She hopes that her smile didn’t falter enough to show just how much she didn’t like the idea.

“You decorate so nicely,” Inez compliments as she makes herself comfortable on the couch, opposite of Dallas who’s in Nick’s arms.

“Oh, thank you. A lot of it has to do with my roommate and best friend, Sienna. She’s going to be an interior designer,” Dallas says, trying to put on a friendly smile.

“That’s cool!”

“So, how long have you and Nick been friends?” Dallas asks, intertwining her fingers with Nicks.

“Since 5th grade! We have gone through a lot together. Nick has always been the one I do everything with,” Inez says with a sadness to her tone. Her smile isn’t as bright, but it’s still genuine.

“Wow, the 5th grade? That’s a long time. You must know each other very well,” Dallas concludes.

“We do! When I saw the instagram post of your Halloween costumes, I was very surprised. Nick has never really cared for Halloween and doing the whole couples costume thing. As well as when Nick told me he proposed on Valentine’s Day; I was in shock. I’ve never known Nick to like that holiday or be so romantic,” as Inez says all this, Dallas can feel her heart sink into her stomach.

Every word being spoken to her starts to fade out and she feels like the guy sitting next to her isn’t who she thought. To everyone it may have been him lying about those two holidays- that most people don’t even consider holidays, but a lot of pivotal memories happened during those events. Without even realizing it, Dallas stoically pulls her hand from where it was cradled in Nicks. Eerily feeling like a stranger in her own home.

Inez and Nick only spend a couple more hours with the girl, talking and laughing while everything continues to be reevaluated in Dallas’ mind. She tries to smile and converse with them, but she just feels so out of place.

It’s not until they leave that she feels like she can breathe. She has time to go through everything and think about how he technically lied to her. Why wouldn’t he tell her that he didn’t care for Halloween? She wouldn’t have made him dress up with her.

She moves throughout the day, but everything seems to pass her by. Even when Nick comes by later that night to bring her food, she’s not even present.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Nick cups her cheek, trying to get her to connect eyes with him.

Dallas feels her tears trailing down her cheeks, although she isn’t aware that she’s actually crying until Nick frowns in worry.

“She’s your best friend,” speaking those words is almost impossible. It feels like burning bile in her throat, because she’s supposed to be his best friend, but how could she when felt like she didn’t even really know him.

“What’re you talking about?” His voice is soft and low. He continues to wipe away her tears as they fall.

“Inez, she’s your best friend,” she whispers.

“What? No, no, she’s just my friend. You’re my best friend,” he corrects her, his head shaking furiously.

“No! She’s your best friend and I’m not. I didn’t even know that you don’t care for Halloween or Valentine’s. I feel like I don’t really know your true self. What else do you not like? What else do I not know about you?” Dallas rips herself from his hands, moving to her bedroom so Sienna wouldn’t have to hear them.

“We’re always learning new things about each other, so there’s a lot we still don’t know, but that’s what the rest of our lives are for. As for Halloween and Valentine’s, I never felt like I had to tell you. You love Halloween, so I wanted to dress up with you. You actually made me love it because it was so much fun. You love Valentine’s Day, so I wanted it to be as special as possible,” he explains, trying to hold her but she continues to pull away.

“That’s not the point though! You could’ve told me, because I want to know every little thing about you. I just feel like I don’t know you as well as I thought. It’s a bit off putting,” she says.

“Well, now you do know,” Nick tries to make light of the conversation, but it just makes her upset.

She wants an apology. She’s not sure if this whole thing warrants one, but it’d be nice to know that she isn’t overreacting and is understood.

“Can you please leave?” She shuts her eyes, not willing to let more tears fall.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Nick. I need you to leave. You obviously don’t understand why I’m upset, so just leave,” she blurts out.

“Fine. I love you, June,” he kisses her forehead. Nick pauses at the door, waiting for her to tell him to stay, but those words never come.

TUESDAY

Dallas throws herself into all her schoolwork as a much needed distraction. When she’s not doing schoolwork, she’s working on dismantling and reassembling the wedding dress she bought from the thrift. She may be upset with Nick, but she is still getting married to him.

She uses one of the scrap pieces of lace from the dress to be part of Nick’s white button up. She dyed the fabric black, cut out her initials and stitched it into the cuff of the sleeve. For her dress, she only saved certain parts of it. She saved the bodice, part of the skirt, and all of the lace. She decided to add thin straps and rework the lace into a veil. She wants a very simple, light wedding dress.

In the process of distracting herself from her little spat with Nick, she goes to a jeweler to get Nick’s watch she bought engraved. “You are my forever,” sits delicately in cursive on the back of it.

There may be a little retail therapy included in her small trip, but that’s only between her and her credit card.

After having a quiet dinner and mini fashion show with her best friend, she decides that it’s not worth being mad at Nick. She has to get over it and move on, because at the end of the day she loves him.

She smiles when she nears his room, his voice filling her ears.

“Yeah, I don't know what was going on last night. I guess she’s just being insecure because you’re here,” Dallas hears Nick say to who she’s assuming is Inez.

She can physically feel her blood start to boil, her heart thumping and mind racing. Before thinking about it, she throws his door open. Nick turns to see her, his face going pale at the realization that she heard his words. The three stare at each other, waiting for someone to break. It’s Dallas.

“Fuck you!” She shouts, turning around.

“June, wait!” Nick runs after her.

“Why, so I can hear you tell your best friend how your girlfriend is so insecure? No thank you,” she spits.

“Well, what else am I supposed to think? You acted crazy for me not telling you about Halloween. You said how she’s my best friend! You called yourself my fiancée when you never even answered my proposal in the first place. Which by the way, makes me feel like you don’t even love me, so yeah sorry for thinking you were insecure,” he blurts out.

Dallas feels her tears spill, her body shaking with nerves. Is this really happening right now? It really hurt to be accused of being jealous just because she accepted his proposal. She’s also being accused of not loving him. She really was going to say yes before Inez even showed up. It’s not her fault they got sidetracked by the red head.

“How dare you say that I only want to marry you because of her! How dare you say that I don’t love you. And you know what, she is your best friend, because you’re here gossiping to her about me. I can’t believe you told her that instead of making sure I was reassured. I guess it’s only okay when I reassure you whenever you get jealous. I don’t even give you a reason to feel jealous,” she rants.

As she goes to walk out his door, he tries to stop her once more.

“June, please don’t leave. Shit, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told her that. I’m sorry for not being nicer about it, or talking to you about it. You’re the only one who matters,” he apologized.

“Don’t call me that anymore. You’re not my boyfriend and you’re not my fiancé,” she whispers, too scared to look up at his face.

“What? C’mon, please. We can talk about this. We can fix this. I can fix this, just tell me what to do. I’m sorry. I messed up, I know that, but we can’t break up. We’re getting married,” she clenched her eyes shut, not daring to see his tears. She knows he’s about to cry by the way his voice continues to crack.

Her back is to him, so he comes up behind her to pull her body into his. If it weren’t for the arm wrapped around her waist, she would’ve crumbled into the floor. She can feel his tears hitting the material of her sweater. It makes her heart break that much more. She hates that she’s hurting him, but his words hurt her. The way he openly talks to Inez about her as if she’s anybody but his fiancée. If roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way she’s feeling.

“No because apparently I don’t love you,” she throws his words back at him, having to pull away from him as his shoulders start to shake.

“Please. Please, I know you love me. I was being an asshole and I made a mistake. I’m sorry,” he pleads.

“I need to leave,” she says, walking away.

She feels like a robot on the walk back to her place. The cold bites at her skin, but it’s nothing compared to the way her heart aches and her stomach twists. She finds herself at Luca’s place, immediately sobbing against him when he pulls her into a hug. That night she watches the moon, silent tears falling as she tries to banish every thought she has of Nick. She can’t go home, not when there are traces of the hockey player in every single corner. His cologne and shampoo are embedded in her pillows. His clothes fill up a section of her closet. There are notes and pictures of them littered on her dresser and night stand. Ignoring him seems impossible.

WEDNESDAY

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Focus on classes, go to a Pilates class, and then start working on some designs for her future clothing line.

That’s Dallas’ plan. A solid plan that will stop her from drowning in her tears and guilt. It will also distract her from the multitude of phone calls from her brother and Kent. If only she knew that last night Nick called Blanks in shameful tears to tell him what happened.

Soft purring breaks the girl’s attention of planning out her day. She feels sir’s soft fur as he rubs against her leg.

“Hi, sir moldy. Hi cutie, mommy loves you,” she coos, caressing her black cat who isn’t so small anymore.

Her soft smile starts to disappear as she thinks about her cat not seeing his favorite person, Nick. The ache in her heart makes itself known again.

Snap out of it.

Dallas vows to stay out of her dorm the entire day until her eyes are practically shutting with sleep. Dressing in a cute outfit and putting on her favorite lipstick, she’s out of her door before she can second guess her plan. Who says you can’t be cute and heartbroken at the same time?

Her two morning classes go by without a hitch, the girl finishing any remaining assignments for the week within an hour after they finish. Her work ethic when she’s trying to distract herself is insane.

After a small lunch, Dallas finds the nearest restroom to change into her workout clothes, but when she walks out she sees Nick in the direction she needs to go. Everything around her seems to freeze except for him. His movements are sluggish and his eyes are tired. She turns the other way just as they make eye contact. For a second she thinks she sees him try to get her attention, but she doesn’t stay around to find out.

Dallas makes sure to take a heated Pilates class instead, needing to sweat out every issue that’s clogging her brain. It works but only for a couple hours. Eventually the sweat dries and now her problems feel tacky on her skin. She couldn’t go back to her apartment, though she desperately needed a shower. If she were to go back, she’d just get sidetracked by all the things her ex has taken over in her room.

She drives out to a lookout spot, putting her car in park so she can draw up new prospects for her clothing line. It’s a bittersweet moment. A lot of her inspiration would spark when she was with Nick. She has to remind herself that her clothing line has always been something she wants. It’s something that she has to be one hundred percent sure about. There’s no time for her to be hurt and in return be neglectful to something she’s worked so hard for.

She has to remember to be grateful for the things that are still in her life.

It’s almost midnight when she returns to her apartment, finding Sienna cuddled up with Sir on the couch.

“Nick tried to see you like a few hours ago. He told me to tell you that he wants to talk,” Sienna says, not even in her apartment for a minute and Dallas already wants to leave again.

“Of course he wants to talk. He can fuck off for all I care. I made up my mind and he needs to deal with it. He can go talk to Inez,” the girl says with an agitated edge to her tone.

“Look, D, you know I love you, but maybe you should talk to him. I know he fucked up majorly, but you should still talk to him,” she brings her into a hug.

“Why, so he can relate it all back to Inez like the best friend she is? So he can try to convince me that she’s not his best friend? I don’t need to hear it,” she spits, removing herself from Sienna’s arms. She heads to her room to shower off the day and sleep for as long as she possibly can.

THURSDAY

“Have you told her about it?” Inez asks Nick in the quiet of the library corner they’re in.

“No. Not yet anyway. I am soon because I know she’s going to be upset if I wait any longer- even if we’re broken up. Hopefully the breakup won’t last too long, though,” he responds, eyes cast down on the paper he’s been procrastinating about.

“She’s not going to be happy. Maybe you shouldn’t tell her. If she finds out we took each other’s virginities, she’s going to be so much more mad,” Inez says, reaching out her hand to rest over Nick’s. It’s meant to be comforting. Nick still pulls his hand away, though.

“Yeah, just let me lie to my fiancée again about something much worse than commercial holidays. No, I need to tell her,” he snaps.

“I’m just trying to protect you. She’s not your anything anymore anyways,” Inez sneered.

“Well don’t,” Nick feels that Inez is partially to blame for his whole breakup. It’s not fair and to some extent, he knows that, but he doesn’t want to blame himself.

“How’re you going to make up for the whole insecurity thing?”

“I don’t know. Grovel, probably or explain why I said it.”

“Maybe you’re just not meant to be. I mean this is kind of crazy to get upset about, especially when she claims she’s your fiancée,” Inez reasons.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand.” The conversation ends there.

The entire day, Nick is constantly looking for Dallas. Outside the rooms he knows her classes take place, at her favorite on campus cafe, and around her favorite spot she likes to chill and write at. No matter how busy it is, it still feels like a ghost town with her absence clearly present.

Dallas watches Nick as he looks around. It seems as if he’s lost, but she knows that he’s looking for her.

She saw him at the library with Inez. She watched the way Inez was talking with her expressive hand gestures and the way Nick's face grew red. Dallas doesn’t know that it was out of annoyance and not in happiness.

To Dallas, they looked so comfortable as if they’re the ones who've been dating for months. Inez’ smile was easy to compare to the breathtaking sight of the sun after a few gloomy days. Her cheeks were coated in a perfectly shade-matched blush. Her plump lips were the perfect shade of pink. She had the prettiest ribbon tied in her red hair, and she just knew her perfume was heavenly. Dallas so badly wished she was the one talking to Nick, covering his hand with her own.

She’s never been someone to be jealous as she’s so confident in herself. Now, she finds herself wishing to be Inez, but hating that she’s has got to the point of where she doesn’t want to be her own person anymore. She also hates the way she never gave Inez a chance, the way she never let herself like her because she’s so likable. Maybe her and Nick would still be together if she didn’t immediately feel jealous of Inez. Dallas feels like she’s going to go insane with the way she keeps bottling up her every emotion towards the girl and her ex boyfriend or fiancé. Nevertheless, she keeps walking with her head held high, well as high as she can get it without her eyes blurring with tears. That elegance and grace she’s learned through ballet comes in handy at this very moment as she remains in a balance of sanity.

She’s so close to entering her apartment building when Nick catches her.

“Dallas!” Her body freezes, literally not being able to move her feet, but she can feel her heart rate speed up.

“Dallas, please let me talk to you,” Nick whispers once he’s close enough to the girl.

“What do you want?” She turns to face him, avoiding his eyes.

“I need to tell you something and after that I will have no more lies or things I’m keeping from you,” he says, but Dallas stays quiet, afraid her words will come out as shouts.

“Inez and I lost our virginities to each other in high school,” he blurts out, waiting in tense silence for Dallas’ reaction.

Dallas feels her heart being crushed between his two fingers. She thinks there’s a big possibility of her passing out on the cold ground. At least that impact won’t hurt as much as this. She finally snaps her head up, looking at him with a glare.

“Look, I never meant to hide it from you. I just knew that if you found out after all that’s happened, you’d freak-“ he’s cut off by a sharp slap to his cheek.

Dallas feels her palm grow warm and start to sting. Her eyes are wide, shocked that she just laid a hand on him. She watches the way Nick’s eyes start to tear up. He knows that this is it. She opens and closes her mouth, not sure what to say or if she should apologize for hitting him. She decides to slowly back away, not able to get herself to turn away from him. She watches his distraught figure as she backs away, tears trailing down her cheeks.

Her body moves on autopilot, reality finally crashing over her when she enters her apartment. Sienna watches with fearful eyes, not having ever seen her best friend in a state like this. Dallas looks at Sienna, her tears still falling. Again, words fail to come out of her mouth as she opens and closes it. Then, it’s like all the shock dissipates and anger takes over. Her eyes are going dark and her features are hardening. She marches to her room, ripping open her closet door. She starts yanking hangers away from each other, throwing out each piece of Nick’s clothing.

All the withheld anger and sadness came bubbling out of the girl in the form of screams. She couldn’t stop it as she shoved every article of clothing that belonged to him in a box. Did 19 year olds act like this? Well, they do now. Poor Sir got so scared he ran to the living room as his mom cleaned every spot that’s been stained by her ex boyfriend. Her movements come to a halt when her eyes land on her wedding box. The tears crash on her with so much weight she falls to her knees, sobs wracking her body. Sienna’s quick to rush to Dallas, immediately hugging her.

“Hey, it’s okay. Let it all out,” she murmured.

“He lost his virginity to her,” she whispers.

Sienna’s eyes widen as she hugs Dallas tighter.

“Shit. I’m so sorry.”

“Am I crazy for being upset? I feel like it shouldn’t be a big deal, but I’m just- I’m so hurt,” Dallas says through sobs and hiccups.

“You have every right to feel the way you do. I’m here for you for whatever you need,” Sienna attempts to soothe her.

“I just- I need to go to my room and calm down.”

“Okay.”

Dallas lugs her heavy body to her room, showers and then neatly packs everything that belongs to Nick in a box. She debates on whether or not she should give him the wedding box, too. Part of her still believed that she should continue to hold onto it because maybe things will get better. Then, she thinks about the new piece of information he just blurted out and she wants to die all over again. She feels that familiar burn of tears in her eyes, so she does the one thing she loves to do when her brain is too loud, write.

Instead of writing in her journal, she decides to write on a single piece of paper. Instead of writing how she feels, she writes a letter that’s a semblance of a goodbye. It’s everything the next girl needs to know or love about Nick, written from someone who loved him probably too much.

THE LETTER

To whoever gets to love Nick next,

He will pretend to like something you love just to make you happy. Don’t get mad at him for hiding the fact that he doesn’t like it. Just love him for wanting you to be happy.

Nick loves hockey, so you have to love him as a hockey player. No matter all the insane expectations that come with it, or how he’ll drive himself up a wall just to be great at something he loves.

Nick is such a goofy person- even when it’s time to be serious. I think it’s because he loves to see the people around him smile, so don’t get annoyed by his untimely silliness.

If you ever get the opportunity to be given a gift from Nick, prepare yourself. He’s one of the best gift givers I have ever met. It just goes to show how easy it is for him to remember everything about someone he loves.

Cherish the vulnerable moments. Don’t take his feelings for granted; they’re a big piece of him and that type of information is hard for anyone to confess to someone they’re scared to be hurt by.

I love you Nick, and in another universe, in another lifetime, our love will have been enough.

Dallas folds up the letter and places it on top of everything in the box. She picks it up, every memory and emotion weighing heavily in her arms. She trudges back to the living room, ignoring Sienna’s worried gaze as she sets the box down by the front door.

“If Nick happens to come by, or any of the hockey boys, give it to them. Thank you,” she mutters, walking back to her room.

FRIDAY

“Dallas, c’mon! I know you’re home, your car is parked outside. Please, please let me in. We need to talk and I want to see our cat,” Nick shouts from outside her door.

When Dallas first heard the knocks, she was doused in sleep. Then she heard his voice, and she was suddenly wide awake.

“No, you’re not coming in to see MY cat. I don’t want to talk to you, so leave,” Dallas cracks the door open just a bit, so she knows that he hears her.

“Dallas, please. Please let me fix this,” he pleads.

“No!”

“Nick, you need to leave. Here’s a box with all your things,” Sienna intervened, handing the box over to him while Dallas sat on the couch.

Nick’s face falls, his eyes getting watery and he searches his mind for words to say. Sienna closes the door before he gets the chance to speak up.

“Are you okay?” She asks Dallas.

Dallas furiously shakes her head. “I can’t be here. I need to go.”

“Okay where are you going?” Sienna follows Dallas to her room, watching her as she packs an overnight bag.

“Buffalo.”

“Buffalo? That’s a bit of a drive. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yes. I don’t want to go to Ohio, and I can’t stay here. I’ll be back before Monday. Thank you for being here for me. It means a lot. I love you,” Dallas says, hugging Sienna.

“Of course. I love you, too.”

Dallas rushes to her car, but she’s still seen.

“D!” Dallas halts her steps when she hears Rutger’s voice.

“Hey, Rut.”

“Where are you going?” He asks, spotting her bag.

“Somewhere for some peace and quiet,” she says.

“How are you feeling? I know everything has been kinda shitty lately.”

“I’m holding it together as best as I can. I’m really hurt and I just need to get away from here for a day or two,” she explains, her exterior softening at Rutger’s sincerity.

“I’m sorry about everything. If you need anything, Luca and I are here for you.”

“Thank you. It means a lot, but you know I can’t. Umm… anyways I have to get going. Thanks for asking about how I was doing. I’ll see you around,” she moves to turn away, but he just pulls her into a short hug.

“No matter what happens, please don’t stop being our friend,” he whispers.

She nods her head, separating herself from the boy before the remainder of her heart shatters. She gets into her car and sets off for Buffalo.

The long drive was cathartic as she belted out lyrics to Taylor Swift- even through all her tears. She also got a ton of fresh air that she desperately needed.

It’s dark when she makes it to where she was going. The person she was trying to see wasn’t even home, so she spent a couple hours outside their front door. Dallas is sure she got a ton of concerned- even judging looks as she accidentally fell asleep with tears dried on her cheeks.

“Dallas?”

The girl startles out of her nap, immediately jumping up when she sees Owen. Owen Power, one of her favorite people. She collapses into his arms, her tears falling once again.

“What happened? Are you okay? Does anyone know you’re here?” He holds her tight.

“Blanks knows I’m here. I broke up with my boyfriend and I just needed to leave because I see and feel him everywhere,” she explains, the shattered pieces of her heart piercing through her skin.

“Let’s get you inside. You probably need some sleep especially after the long drive.”

After some much needed food and a shower, Dallas finally explains everything to Owen. He’s less than impressed, but he’s really good at comforting her.

“I don’t know. I just feel like this whole week I’ve been acting like some crazy girlfriend. Do you think I’m crazy for feeling and acting this way?”

“No, you’re valid. Except for the whole Halloween and Valentine’s thing, that’s not too big of a deal. He was just trying to make you happy. Now, him telling that girl you’re insecure and saying that you don’t love him was out of line. I’m sorry that you went through that, but I am glad I get to see you,” he tells her, bringing her in for another hug.

“Thank you for understanding. I’m happy to see you, too. Now, I need at least 12 hours of sleep, so goodnight. Will you be here tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah. I’ll make you breakfast.”

As Dallas falls asleep that night, Nick is beating himself up as he reads Dallas’ letter. The once neat paper is littered with tear drops.

SATURDAY

Nick is breaking many traffic laws just to get to Buffalo. It took Rutger telling him that she was leaving and a million apologies to Blanks to find out where she was. He was ready to lay his heart on the line, or in her palms.

Nick doesn’t know she’s staying with Owen, he just knows where she is. When he knocks on the door, he’s surprised to see a very tall man with long hair.

“Nick.” Owen knows him from Dallas’ instagram.

Nick recognizes the other hockey player, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending otherwise.

“Um, who are you?” Nick puffs out his chest, trying to disguise his true reaction. Owen is very large and intimidating as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Owen Power, a good friend of Dallas.” Owen looks down on Nick, a testing expression painting his features.

“Is Dallas here? Can I talk to her?”

“I don’t know. Can you, or will you just go talk to Inez?” Nick looks taken aback at his remark.

So much for a great first impression.

“What are you doing here?” Dallas asks, moving Owen out of the way.

“I need to talk to you. Please, Dallas you have to let me explain everything,” he begs.

Dallas groans, her hands going through her hair as she moves aside for him to enter.

“What could you possibly say to me?”

“I know you’re upset that I just told you about how I lost my virginity to Inez, but it didn’t mean anything and she doesn’t mean anything to me,” he swears.

“You made me seem like I was crazy for feeling insecure! You had sex with her and I know that was long ago, but you’re with me, but still had her come visit you,” she responds.

“I didn’t know she was coming! Do you think if I knew, I would let it happen, or at least not tell you about our past?” He questions.

“You still let her stay! That’s the difference. If she didn’t mean a thing to you, why did you let her stay? If I had lost my virginity to Owen and had you meet him because he’s my close friend, you would go ballistic. If roles were reversed, you’d be just as jealous and just as upset!” She shouts.

“Speaking of Owen, why would you tell him our business? Sure seems like he’s your best friend when you said I was yours” Nick scoffs, jealousy creeping up on him.

“No! No, you can’t get jealous not right now. See! This is what I mean! You can get jealous all you want, but the moment I do, it’s wrong. Screw your double standards!”

“I was the one who was insecure. I have been asking you to marry me for weeks and you still wouldn’t give me an answer. Next thing I know, you’re introducing yourself as my fiancée. I felt like the prospect of our marriage wasn’t important to you, like you were just playing with my feelings to see how far you could go before I blew up. I fucked up so badly because I thought you wouldn’t want to marry me at all. If you had eventually said no, our relationship would be ruined. I’m sorry, Dallas. I’m sorry for making it seem like she’s my best friend. I’m sorry for keeping things from you, and saying that you don’t love me. I’m sorry for everything and I just needed to tell you that,” he says, watching as she cries.

“Here’s your ring, I forgot to put it in the box,” she says, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He immediately shakes his head, knowing that if he takes back the ring everything will really be over.

“I can’t take that back. It’s yours. It belongs to you,” he tries to say it with conviction, but his voice cracks and his tears start to fall.

“I can’t have it either,” she pulls the ring off, forcing it into his hands.

His shoulders are shaking and his lip wobbles. Nick wants to hold her in his arms, but he knows she’ll push him away.

Dallas wants to reach out to him as he walks away, but she fears it’s too late to take back everything she’s said and done.

“Nick?” She calls his name and watches the way he turns around within that second.

“Yeah?” His voice is unsure. He watches the looks she gives him. Her eyes are filled with want. She wants that connection.

He quickly walks back to her, pulling her into his arms.

“Why can’t you fight for me?” She questions, hurt laced in her voice. Her hands connect around his neck and he can feel her chest heave.

“I have been fighting. Not hard enough, but because you won’t let me fight for you,” he answers, hands rubbing her back.

“Fight for me, please,” she begs, her way of saying she’ll listen to what he has to say.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I hadn’t talked to Inez since before I graduated high school, so her coming to visit was just as much a surprise to me as it was to you. I’m sorry for being an asshole and telling Inez that you were insecure. That wasn’t my place and that wasn’t her business. I should’ve made sure that you were secure in our relationship, because that’s my job as your boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” Dallas corrects him.

“Yes, your fiancé. I know you love me with all your heart, sorry for ever doubting that. Inez is not my best friend and she’s not even really a friend. Not anymore. I told her she couldn’t be in my life, because if she stayed, I knew you wouldn’t and I once told you that I can’t live without you. That stands true. I want you even if that means giving up everything else. I’m sorry, June. I’m so sorry for being so careless with us,” he apologizes, his tears falling into her hair.

“I accept your apology. I’m sorry for being so emotional,” she says against the skin of his cheek as she softly kisses his face.

“You have every right to feel angry, sad, or hurt. I was truly an asshole,” he states.

“I’m so sorry for slapping you, Nick. I hate myself for putting my hands on you like that. I swear I will never do that again,” she sobs into his chest, that guilt finally breaking her down.

“I deserved it.”

“No, you didn’t. I saw how much that hurt you, emotionally,” she whispers.

“I love you, pretty girl.”

“I love you, always.”

Dallas pulls away, taking in the boy she loves so much. His hair is messy and his face is red from his tears.

“June bug, I want you in my life forever. I don’t care how young we are, or what people think, because I know that our love is enough in this lifetime and the next one. We will always find our way to each other. Will you please marry me?” He pulls out the ring from his pocket and kneels on one knee.

“Yes! Yes in this lifetime and yes in the next. I love you, Nick,” she answers, jumping into his arms and kissing his lips for the first time in what felt like forever.

a/n: I absolutely loved writing this and I hope y’all enjoy it! The title is a little combination of “All American Bitch” and “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo as I feel those two songs resemble what Dallas was going through. It also references the lace of the dress Dallas thrifted, beautiful but also delicate.

#nick moldenhauer #nick moldenhauer x oc #nick moldenhauer x reader #nick x dallas #umich imagine #umich hockey #so it goes au

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obsidianbaby · 1 year ago

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Don't Love Me Like A Brother - Prologue

Brothers Best Friend Series - PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1 -

series synopsis - ronnie's younger brother, tyler, is a famous youtuber & influencer and is best friends with the sturniolos. This series will be following ronnie's life as she befriends the triplets and catches herself developing feelings for a certain someone...

**series will contain smut as it develops but warnings will be added to those specific chapters

**found myself writing a few flashback chapters before present day just to build up the established friendships bc I'm impatient and don't want the slow burn to drain anyone 😭

warnings/notes - no smut in this as it's just the prologue to introduce y'all to the story.

a/n - starting this series and im very exciteddddddd i hope y'all fuck with a slow burn, friends to lovers best friends brother type beat. Buckle up mfs it's gonna be an angsty ride

a/n pt 2 - im not gonna share who ronnie develops feelings for just yet I want y'all to be on edge okok enjoy MWAH xx

__________________________________

PROLOGUE

ronnies pov

having a brother who's famous on social media is humbling to say the least.

The amount of fan girls who have followed my accounts just because they're obsessed with him makes me question many people's sanity (including my own).

But tyler is one of my best friends. And thank god for my dad, who from the jump, did not tolerate any misogynistic bullshit from my brother.

Raising two kids as a single dad after my mom passed away (before ty and I were older than the age of 5) was tough for him and he embraced the times when he needed support (like when i first got my period, bless his heart he bought almost every type of menstrual product off the shelf).

His values were the perfect structure for us to grow up following; respect, open communication, giving our best efforts to everything (even if the only effort we could offer up was a 60% instead of a 100%)

My childhood friends would always whine about how "chill" my dad was. And it's not cause he didn't care, (he probably cares too much) but he didn't want to shield us either, knowing we need to learn how to exist in the world without him constantly up our asses.

"As long as we can talk about shit at the end of the day then we're good" one of his favorite mantras he would spew to me and ty when we would get caught doing something you might call a "right of passage" as a teenager.

And since it was just the three of us, we've always leaned on each other a lot. Sunday family dinners at nans' every week, taking turns helping my dad at his shop after school (he's a car mechanic), movie nights every thursday night where my dad would close up shop early, setting up the projector in the shop garage and ordering us pizza. My brother has been a best friend to me since I held him in my arms at the age of 3 when he was born.

And of course, we have the usual chaotic fights to the death like most siblings do, him pranking me in the most annoying ways, me making fun of his dumbass, him eating all of my food, me stealing his cool clothes, him begging me to uber him around everywhere, etc.

But we also just really enjoy each other's company too; going on late night walks around town, sitting in bed staying up talking all night, playing mario cart for hours (id always kick his ass), going adventuring together to forests or beaches, hanging out at the skate park together (me laughing at him eating shit and him chasing me around trying to whack me with his board), us both ditching our friends to stay at home and yap to each other instead, us having campfires in the backyard with both of our friend groups together, working on restoring mom's 1967 ford mustang together that she left us when she passed.

So when he came to me a few years back, during the pandemic, asking my thoughts on him posting on youtube, I was in full support (after teasing him that no one would find him, an 18 year old lanky white boy about to graduate high school funny or interesting. I have to keep him humble ya know?)

But his first few videos on youtube went viral and his following kept growing daily, especially when he started posting on tiktok too.

He's had me (and even my dad) featured in his videos which i don't mind at all (since im the one that's editing them)

I can see why the internet loves him (i did help raise him of course).

But since he's hit over 3 million on youtube last year, he's been doing a shit ton of collabs with other influencers and youtubers; the sturniolo triplets, larray, emma chamberlain, jake webster, tarayummy, vinnie hacker, carrington, etc.

And these days I try to stay behind the scenes as much as possible, trying to enjoy my solitude away from the opinions of crazy fans. (why do they care so much about what im doing anyways?)

Yet he understands (thank god) and he's always inviting me to come hangout with the friends he's made through social media, and i can't lie and say i don't enjoy being in the company of such dope (and attractive) people.

END OF PROLOGUE

______________________________________________

a/n - hellooooo i have a few more parts already written for this but im gonna wait to see how this post goes first (because i have a dire need for validation and praise) anywaysssss thank you for reading mwah xx

#sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #chris sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo fanfic

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bloomingbluez · 6 months ago

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friends don't lie | luke hemmings

MDNI

"Luke and Sawyer's friendship goes way back. They're inseparable, compatible to the bones, unable to stay mad at each other… Unless it's about a girl, and about a girl it was. Everything would be alright, if Luke didn't lie.

But he did. And friends are not supposed to lie."

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pairing: sgfg!luke x original character

word count: 14.7k

tw: smut, referenced self harm

a/n:

hello! i hope you enjoy this little angsty story about sounds good feels good ! luke and my original character sawyer. i hope you like her, because my girl is messy, not going to lie.

thanks to my girl kaleidoscopecth for helping me tame the english language and being an amazing critic 🩷

feel free to leave me requests!

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Pounding on the door echoed through the entire Hemmings house. Luke had the impression that soon, it’ll conjure an earthquake that could crumble the foundation and knock down the walls. If only he had any motivation to pick himself up from the warm bed and open the front door… But Luke had none. The cold had been tormenting him for a week, —which also meant a week of house arrest and skipping school–, and because of that, he lay buried under the covers, with his chest slippery from a warming body balm. The usual, messy decor of his room was joined by a used pile of tissues on the dresser, and multiple empty mugs after tea and aspirin. Back on Sunday, when he started sneezing and his mum pulled out an old mercury thermometer from the cabinet above the fridge, the prospect of being sick seemed like the most appealing thing on Earth. Then, one by one, Luke lost the energy to play the guitar, his phone screen was too bright even on the lowest setting, and his fever reached the levels where Liz forced him to take cold baths. And at school… Suddenly, everyday there was something happening, people fighting and arguing, teachers playing movies instead of teaching a class, and giving out free A’s for bare minimum tasks like painting the best birthday card for their elderly cat. Fucking awesome!

Liz Hemmings raised her gaze from the pages of a very exciting crime novel. For some unknown reason, she assumed it had to be her husband, who once again didn’t feel like looking for keys in his leather briefcase. However, the banging didn’t stop, if anything, it only intensified. She wanted to call Luke, but remembered that she herself tucked him under the covers and prohibited from even going as far as to the bathroom. With a sigh, she rose from their beige corner sofa and opened the door for an unexpected intruder.

The woman squinted seeing Sawyer Ashwood on her doorstep.

“Good Morning, Mrs. Hemmings!” the blonde girl practically shouted, as soon as the door opened enough for the tiles in the hallway to become visible.

Sawyer Ashwood’s blond hair flew in all directions, free of the woolen hat she was crumpling in her hands despite the winter weather. Her navy coat stayed unbuttoned as always, although unlike some of the other high schoolers she wasn’t keeping it that way to show off her outfit; running out of school, the last thing she wanted to waste time on was something as mundane as closing all the buttons. It resulted in a furiously red blush on her cheeks, and a very similar color covering the tip of her nose. The chattering teeth were a nice addition to the team, but the girl didn’t seem to mind at all. Of course, Ashton was standing right behind Sawyer, his jacket buttoned up neatly, with the scarf tucked in tightly and a hat covering his ears. The only thing missing were Calum and Michael, but Liz would ask her questions later.

“Is Luke even still alive? He hasn’t texted in four days and yesterday, we were supposed to play GTA. But he never logged in! Ashton didn’t want to come. but I need a mediator in this conversation. Otherwise, I might rip his fucki- his head off,” Sawyer explained, falling into her usual chattiness. Out of all the Liz’s friends’ children, she started talking the earliest and hasn’t stopped ever since then.

“Luke is sick…”

Liz didn’t even have time to finish, because as soon as Sawyer heard that her friend was living and breathing, she rushed into the house. She quickly kicked her shoes off her feet and ran towards the stairs. Sawyer knew the Hemmings house as well, if not better, than her own. Whenever she and her parents would come over for dinner, they ended up staying the night. The Ashwoods occupied the guest room, while Sawyer and Luke sat on his bed under the blanket, reading comics and playing games until well past midnight. Sometimes, he would show her what song he was currently learning on the guitar and his mum would barge into the room, rushing them to sleep. There was also the fact that Ashwoods lived just a street away – it might have been a long street, but ever since Sawyer got a skateboard for Christmas, the distance didn’t scare her at all. Luke’s parents saw her as often as their own kids, and Sawyer saw them more than her own parents, who always ended up staying late at work or simply wouldn’t notice that their daughter wasn’t home.

Ashton calmly crossed the threshold and started unbuttoning his jacket with steady fingers. He was the most composed out of their friend group, and would often look with confusion at their erratic behaviour and ideas. That said, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t participate when it came to putting those ideas to live.

“We had to play with Dirk,” he explained.

“The one who pulled at her braids?” the woman asked.

Ashton confirmed. About a month prior, a boy from their grade made such questionable choices and decided to pull on Sawyer’s messy braids in the unofficial smoking area behind the school gym. Sawyer, as expected, didn’t bother with talking to the teacher and simply punched Dirk in his freckled nose, which ended with a hemorrhage for him and a principal visit for her. Talking to the teacher, Dirk disclosed that the last thing he heard before getting punched was Luke Hemmings’ tired not again, and then the blond was on him. The very next day, Evelyn Ashwood was sitting at Liz’s kitchen island, complaining about her daughter and her uncontrolled temper. It seemed to always be Evelyn’s favourite subject – she had to pick her daughter from school, talk to teachers, drive her to a mandatory psychologist appointment, maybe an anger management class, all for Sawyer to act up again and again, just to make her mother’s life harder.

Liz only sighed.

“Fine. In that case, go join them, I’ll make some tea. Just don’t sit too close to Luke,” she asked, and Ashton nodded in confirmation. He started climbing the stairs, before turning back to his friend’s mum.

“Calum and Mike will probably come in a bit. They still had classes when we left.” It was a nice way of saying that Sawyer skipped her last hour, since Ashton’s schedule was different. If anyone cared to ask, she would explain that Ashton was absolutely necessary in this scenario and she couldn’t let him go home, because then, he probably wouldn’t agree to come out again. Liz couldn’t care less; she was used to her son having these four basically attached to the hip. When Sawyer was expelled from their first high school, Luke basically begged her to allow him to switch too, since the girl was his best and only friend. Although she was sceptical at first, watching him find new friends never failed to put a smile on Liz’s face.

Of course, there has always been Sawyer, and Liz doubted she would ever disappear from her son’s life. Thankfully, her opinion of the girl was much more positive than her own mother’s. Some would even say that Liz treated her like one of her own… And it certainly was true. Sawyer would kill for Luke (scientifically proven, as she did beat people up in his name before), and Liz would never take affection like that for granted.

Entering through the doorway covered with posters of various rock bands, Ashton saw the blue navy coat draped over the guitar stand, as well as her red hat somewhere under the desk. He closed the door behind him, only to realise that Sawyer was already lying on the bed next to Luke, –the same Luke they were supposed to not sit too close to–, and vividly retelling everything that had happened at school during the last week. Every single time she gestured, and Sawyer talked with her whole body, Luke almost got hit with her fist across the face, but Ashton wasn’t there to save him. No, no – if Luke didn’t get sick in the first place, Ashton wouldn’t be forcefully dragged to a pottery class and Michael wouldn’t have to suffer through sitting with Sawyer during most classes, meanwhile Calum had to sit alone. It was their joint decision to let Sawyer eat him up, and only intervene if she got physical, but her rage over yesterday’s game seemed long forgotten. Without a word, Ashton sat down at the foot of the bed, listening to Sawyer’s exaggerated story by himself.

Luke, however, didn’t look like he needed saving at all. He shifted on his pillow and stared at Sawyer’s profile, inhaling her every word and organizing it in his head.

----------

Six years later…

He felt pathetic. Or maybe he simply was pathetic? Luke didn’t know. His life was falling apart before his very eyes, and he didn’t know how to stop it from happening, or whether he even wanted to stop it at all. Maybe what he needed was for everything to just crumble into ash – to get a fresh start. That depressive dilemma had appeared in his head ever since they came home from the last tour, and with it, Luke made a few questionable decisions. Not knowing where his life was at, he felt unable to find his footing, both physically and emotionally. The band was on hiatus, even though their friendship stayed intact. The label clearly communicated that if the next song that they deliver wouldn’t be a hit, the hiatus might as well turn into a permanent solution. He wanted to write, chase the adrenaline of being on stage, but just thinking about the claustrophobic rooms and sharing a bed with Calum made him want to puke. Luke couldn’t remember when was the last time he ate a home-cooked meal, but surprise, the relationship with his parents and siblings also got strained ever since he turned eighteen and decided to be as independent as it gets, which somehow also meant not calling home. Then, there was Sawyer… The one person Luke really wanted to talk to, who was mad at him, and he couldn’t even be frustrated about it, because she had every right to hate him.

The need to sort his shit out was overwhelming, but he didn’t even know where to start. Parties became a perfect form of escapism for pretty much everybody, and thus drowning their sorrows in alcohol. Instead of looking for solutions, his thoughts circled the same situations, even though Luke thought them through millions of times. Funny, since he wasn’t a person prone to reflection, certainly not in the context of his own life. He couldn’t change the past anyway, and dwelling on it could be destructive.

“Fucking God, Luke…”

Ashton appeared out of nowhere, or maybe Luke was just too drunk to follow his movements. The red bandana sat unevenly on his head, and his eyes drilled into the blond’s face as if he was expecting him to do something. Well, good fucking luck because Luke rarely knew what people expected of him anymore. In his current state, he couldn’t bring himself to worry about Ashton’s concerned scowl. After the last few beers, he felt all warm and cozy inside, not the usual crazy drunk, and even Irwin wouldn’t fuck this up with his mothering.

“Sawyer is here,” Mike said, appearing out of the crowd that occupied the kitchen and beer pong table. His face was equally worried, and only after he announced their newest guest, the words and their meaning crushed into Luke like a truck.

His face turned pale. She was the epicentre of his whole plague, the moral dilemmas engulfing him every night before falling asleep. For a second, an idea struck him, —he could run away, lock himself in one of the bathrooms in their rental–, but Sawyer could already be noticed cutting through the people. Her blond hair bounced with every step, and the brown, constantly smudged wings gave her narrow eyes a military grade sharpness. The chapped lips, pulled into a thin line, were unnaturally closed. Luke would rather be talked to death by Sawyer, recently it’s been all he dreamed of, rather than being on the receiving end of this fury that radiated from her whole body. Fucking hell, he was not only the recipient, but also the reason.

“Shit…” he whispered to himself, taking a panicked step back, but Sawyer was already approaching; there was no way of escaping her, and Luke knew that too well from pure experience. Boys who messed with Sawyer Ashwood never met a happy ending, because she wouldn’t stop before making their lives miserable. They used to laugh about it, joke about having brownie points because of their bond. Except Luke didn’t know where that stood anymore. Could one mistake ruin a lifelong friendship? Apparently, because once Sawyer was close enough that he could count her freckles, her hand connected with his cheek without hesitation. This was what they used to laugh at, but now everyone watched with an open mouth, not knowing if they should laugh or call the police. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Calum abandon his cigarette and some brunette on the terrace, making his way towards the scene.

“Fuck you, Luke,” she hissed through her teeth, her every muscle tense. “You’re such a motherfucking dick-”

A girl stepped away from the observers, standing between Luke and Sawyer. He swallowed hard; this wouldn’t end well. Her blue hair barely reached her shoulder and thick-rimmed glasses sat low on her nose.

“Sawyer, please, stop. This is my fault, don’t take it out on Luke. You’re embarrassing him.”

Sawyer pursed her lips and looked away from her. Her bottom lip actually seemed to quiver – it reminded Luke of many times when his friend was close to a breakdown and pushed it down for appearances. The facade fell, letting her muscles relax. Seeing that, Luke allowed his shoulders to fall. He didn’t even dare to look at Grace, because he worried it might pump his friend full of rage again. Or maybe an ex-friend? Luke knew one thing for sure; he looked at Grace way too many times to do it again without a guilty conscience, even though deep down he knew her words were pure bullshit.

“Fuck all of you,” the blond simply stated, before turning on her heel and heading for the main entrance. Watching her disappear in the crowd, losing the view of her head behind a corner, Luke felt like he didn’t know where he was himself. What the fuck did just happen? Only then did his cheek start to hurt, and he held up his hand to touch it. He needed to put something cool against it to prevent bruising; funnily enough, it was a trick Luke learned from Sawyer.

Grace approached him and placed her small hand on his shoulder. Oversized hoodie and black jeans swallowed her whole, but Luke remembered her figure even through the haze of all the alcohol. Involuntarily, he wondered if tonight she’s also wearing lace under all these clothes, but he shook the thought off in a second. It was the alcohol thinking, or so he wanted to believe. If not… Well, that would make Luke Hemmings a very shit human being. In reality, he was just too childish to forget how much fun it was to play with matches, even though everything around was getting engulfed by fire.

“Sorry about her-” Ashton’s scoff interrupted Grace. Luke could feel all the alcohol evaporating from his body. He noticed Calum pushing through the crowd towards them. Everyone around seemed to forget about the assault that took place when Hot In Here blasted from the speakers. “Is this funny to you?” she snapped at the drummer.

Ashton brushed a few strands of hair out of his eyes; he was getting ready to argue.

“You’re funny to me, Grace. If anyone here is taking it out on someone, it’s you, on both of them,” he stated nonchalantly. Calum reached them, and instead of standing in the clearly antagonistic circle, leaned against the nearest wall, giving him a good view of the argument.

“Then write a song about it or something, but stay out of this,” Grace whimpered, offended by his words. Luke focused on the floor, trying to get the memory of her hips, waist, stomach, thighs out of his head… “It’s not me who has a problem, it’s her!”

“You cheated on her,” Calum murmured, catching everyone’s attention. It was clear his head was working overtime to understand what was happening, yet he still managed to defend his friend.

“If it was me, I would also have a problem with it,” Michael added, making Ashton smile in triumph. If it was up to him, they could bully the blue-haired girl all night. Maybe it wasn’t within the traditional framework of fun, but he was having lots of it knowing that they’re one step closer to getting rid of her. The last thing he wanted was for her to get attached and Luke being too passive to do anything about it. It was clear he had to put on his paternal shoes once more, for one last dance.

Grace seemed outraged by his statement, although everyone in their group knew that Calum was right. In desperation, she looked towards Luke for help, but to no avail – he still watched the floor as if it was the most interesting thing ever. First of all, his friends weren’t wrong; Sawyer had every right to be pissed, and Luke knew it damn well. Second of all, he simply felt guilty, because even though all the anger concentrated on Grace, it takes two to tango.

“Luke, say something,” she tugged on his sleeve, completely ignoring the accusations.

“Luke, go chase your fucking friend,” Ashton corrected Grace, not so subtly kicking him in the shins. He received a pointed look, because after getting slapped, Luke didn’t need any more violence inflicted on him. Contrary to what his friend might have thought, his brain could still distinguish a completely wrong reaction from a good one.

“Grace…” She looked at him hopefully. “Come on, let me go.”

He left the rental after pushing through the people. Going back home definitely proved that keeping relationships can be complicated, because as much as everyone was proud, nobody had a problem showing that they should have handled certain things differently. On the contrary, random people from their school or the neighbourhood had no problems glueing themselves to the band, as if they were part of the group in the first place. Constant texting about free tickets, invites to the parties, or rather nagging whether they would like to organize them. The worst part was, it felt good to be liked and wanted after being sidelined by the label; it was certainly easier to allow those people in than make amends with their loved ones. When things got complicated, they simply decided to escape them by moving out, and now, vodka bottles covered the kitchen counter every weekend and their dinners consisted of instant ramen. It wasn’t smart in the longshot – Luke knew that when he saw another couple doing lines in the bathroom or people jumping to the pool from the balcony. But for once, he needed to rest. The smell of weed hung thick in the air, so when the fresh wind outside hit him, he almost gasped.

He ended up in their wanna-be courtyard. The path leading to the garage was fenced from the entrance pathway with a little, brick wall; the first week they moved in, Calum bumped into it with his car. Now, Sawyer Ashwood sat on top of it, a lit cigarette between her fingers.

Sawyer had never been drop-dead gorgeous. She had never taken his breath away, never made his heart rush. Her view never made his thoughts get clouded, obscuring his common sense. He would not jump into the fire after her, and not because she wasn’t worth it, but because Luke strongly believed that Sawyer would rise from the flames just to beat him up over making such a stupid self-sacrifice. Or worse, she would haunt him in the afterlife.

When Luke looked at Sawyer, the complete opposite happened. A wave of pure, uninterrupted thoughts would flood him, his heart and breathing slowed down to their natural rates, his hands stopped shaking… It was like a calm in the middle of the storm, like the realization that everything is going to be okay. Common sense broke through the intoxication. When he looked at her, he thought about the memories of their childhood and the carefree years that had long passed. With Sawyer, Luke could finally feel like a responsible adult, because she never really grew up. She would always need someone to pull her away from the trouble, from the fights, remind her that all this rage and chaos were hollow and pointless – only for Sawyer to pierce her own tongue in the school bathroom the next day and call in a hurry, because it started getting infected. With her, his life had an ounce of significance, because someone needed him, and Luke knew damn well that without Sawyer, he would fall apart so many times. At the end of the day, together they could fall apart just enough to still make sense.

He approached her slowly, hoping she would see him coming and they could avoid another fit of anger – it was a stupid assumption in Sawyer’s case, but nobody ever said that Luke was smart. Her hair was flowing in the wind, many dye jobs leaving it anything but the underlying blonde. The ends still had a green hue to them from her last idea, while towards the root, the color looked like the perfect peachy pink, to finally reveal the darker roots. The messy eyeliner and strategically placed white pencil made her eyes look more round, and the raspberry lipstick peeled off her chapped lips, staining the white cigarette paper.

Luke, for some reason, thought he’d be able to sit down next to her, but before he even reached the wall, Sawyer stood up and threw the cigarette under her sole, and then unceremoniously slapped him across the face, again.

And again.

And once more.

And yet again.

She finished, pressing her hand to her stomach. From the scowl on Sawyer’s face, Luke could tell that it hurt from all the blows – he did have an exceptionally chiseled jaw, and it wasn’t feeling much better. Maybe if they allowed her to actually fight people for more than one punch, she would build a stronger endurance.

“Are you done?” he asked, touching his throbbing cheek. Thankfully, she didn’t break the skin, because it would make rounds in the papers. Luke knew damn well that he could have stopped her, caught her wrist before she even landed the first blow, and every other one that followed. He also knew that he deserved it, and a part of him thought that taking the punishment was more honorable than running away from it. Bullshit. “Because it hurts…”

This time, Sawyer punched him in the chest with her closed fist instead. Luke looked at her with confusion, making her snort.

“I meant it, Luke, fuck off. You have no right to come crawling back to me, expecting that we’ll reminisce about the good old times and I’ll magically forget. You really fucked me up this time,” Sawyer admitted, brushing her unevenly cut bangs out of her eyes. Her voice was hoarse; from the cold, or from the cigarette, or maybe from crying, but it made something break inside him.

“That’s not what I expected,” he lied mechanically. Because that’s exactly what he expected – that’s how it happened in the movies. The power of friendship could overcome pretty much anything, and he knew Sawyer Ashwood from the diapers and breastfeeding. Theoretically, they could have lost touch multiple times throughout the years, but they never did, and that must have accounted for something. All Luke really wanted was to be back in his room, sitting on his bed, sharing a joint while he showed her how to play Wonderwall on his guitar. “Look, Sawyer… I don’t know what got into me that night. I never meant for any of this to happen. But maybe it’s for the better, ok? Grace is a bitch, the way she played it out–”

“Fucking God, Grace isn’t the one who decided to fuck her best friends’ girlfriend!” the blond interrupted him, clearly unable to take anymore of his pathetic explanations. It hurt him that she only seemed to blame him, not her ex. “It’s you, Luke! You’re the bitch! You’re a two-faced piece of shit who only thinks about himself!”

Luke fell silent and sat down on the wall. He looked at her, trying to keep his composure. Liz raised him better than to use verbal insults, and he was really holding himself back. But he wasn’t like one of her exes or boys who bullied her in high school; he deserved at least a bit of respect.

“Was it so hard to swallow that I was finally happy?! You have your fuck-ass band, and I have to read what happens to you from fucking gossip magazines, because all of the sudden I’m too lowly to be a part of your life! If you don’t want me anymore, why the fuck would you go and ruin the one thing where someone did actually want me?!”

“She clearly didn’t want you that much since she fucked me!”

Well, Luke got punched in the face again. He should have expected it. Looking into her resentful eyes, you couldn’t say that Sawyer was close to tears, because she wasn’t. Sawyer was angry, only angry. She had already cried too much over this, and if she was going to shed another tear, it wouldn’t be for the comfort of others. Luke should have known that he had broken something inside her, hurt her to the bones, but apparently, he only had enough empathy to see his actions as a favour.

“You’re such a dick…” she began again.

“Sure, Sawyer, you can insult me. I deserve it. But if you thought I did it on purpose, then maybe it’s a good thing you’re not part of my career, because that’s a place for friends, and friends know each other,” Luke spat out. Sawyer only shook her head, slowly losing energy for this. He wouldn’t understand it; she was naive to think he ever would.

Sawyer Ashwood knew Luke Hemmings before she even knew herself, but apparently it wasn’t good enough.

“Most of all, friends don’t lie, Luke. If you had told me when it happened…” Sawyer’s voice rose an octave higher. That was the worst part of everything, what actually hurt her so deeply wasn’t the cheating, but the fact that everyone kept it from her. She felt pathetic admitting that it was this simple; that Luke might have gotten off easy if he stayed honest. After months of ignoring her, missing birthday wishes and making her feel like shit, she would take him back if he had the balls – it made Sawyer feel weak and stupid.

She cleared her throat.

“If you had just told me you slept with her when it happened, I might have been able to swallow it.”

“I couldn't,” he said, forming a logical explanation in his head. Luke thought about it for a long time, before realizing that he never wants to be in a position where he would have to tell her. His reasons were so cliché, especially after always hearing from Sawyer that she was much more into women. Revealing this secret had no better purpose than to make a fool of himself, and Luke had enough of that on tonight’s record. He was sure when Ashwood looked up at the sky; sure that she would ask why, that she would want to know. “You say that now, Sawyer,” he added, shrugging.

Luke was just so fucking sure she would ask any time now.

But instead, Sawyer turned on her heel. She wanted to get out of this place, out of this situation and people who were wasting her time and energy and sanity. She had already wasted two decades on Luke, only to end up with a broken heart. Sawyer might not have been an internationally acknowledged artist or earn millions of dollars, but she expected so much more. Sawyer deserved so much more. For years, Sawyer Ashwood considered her life less than satisfying, –she didn’t have lots of friends, wasn’t particularly attractive, got average grades at best, had shit parents who couldn’t care less–, but at least she had Luke. She had a friend who would be there no matter what; but that train left the station a long time ago, and he jumped it before she could even notice. Funny how everyone around her always said that nothing good would come from her friendship with the four boys, but she always believed in them.

Now she was eating her own shit, because no way Ashton, Michael and Calum would take her side. They were his friends, his band.

“I couldn’t, because you would ask ‘Why did you do it, Luke?’, and look at me with your huge doe eyes, and I wouldn’t be able to blame it on alcohol. I was so wasted, Sawyer… But despite everything, I just didn’t want to see you with someone who wasn’t me.”

In one of the pop music videos, or a romantic comedy on Netflix, they would be seventeen and played by actors half their age. She would turn to him and start walking; he would do the same, just so they could meet halfway and kiss. A cute kiss – something seemingly deep to be romantic, but in a way that the movie could be rated PG13. That’s why, when Luke noticed Sawyer turn back towards him, he stood up and smiled to himself.

“Well, you did amazing, because I don’t want to see you ever again. Leave me alone. You’re too pathetic to look at Luke, so much that it hurts.”

----------

“There you go.” Ashton’s voice woke Sawyer from a trance. The blonde didn’t know why she agreed to meet with him. Maybe it was the shock – she didn’t expect the invite at all, and when it came, she texted back sooner than her mind could analyze every possible angle.

She kept on going back to everything that happened, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, as if it would give her any answers.

Just to make the rent, Sawyer shared her time between a reception desk at an art gallery and a rave club in the center. The first job was just for her, within the area of her interest, but the second one was what made the difference; at least on the nights when she wore a tighter blouse or her boobs were showing a bit more, and the tips would flow in much better than usual. She met Grace at that club, during her shift, feet hurting from standing around and hands constantly sticky from grenadine, no matter how many times she washed them. A petite, pink-haired girl approached the bar and ordered two drinks, one with alcohol, while the other one was without. Sawyer asked her why would anyone stay sober at a rave, and Grace shrugged, admitting that technically, her date wasn’t off the clock yet. Sawyer decided not to comment, but then, right after she presented the drinks on the counter, Grace pushed the mocktail towards her with a cocky smile.

They seemed like the perfect match from the beginning, or maybe Sawyer just liked that when she was with Grace, her thoughts were taken off everything else. When they were together, she didn’t feel the need to google her best friend’s name or look through his recent concert videos on Twitter. She wasn’t tempted to text him or call him, even though she knew he wouldn’t pick up and minutes after being sent to voicemail, Sawyer would be deleting any traces of her call from their chat because she felt embarrassed. Then, she would get mad and scream into her pillow. Then, she would punch the pillow, but that didn’t change the fact that she felt stupid.

Sometimes, you have to beat stupidity out of someone, her father would always say. So Sawyer would; her open palm connecting with her cheek, sometimes harder and sometimes missing the aim completely. Sometimes concentrating the blow on her nose rather than the cheek, or hitting the lip with her nail, making it bleed. She would slap until the cheek was red and first tears streamed down the burn.

But she didn’t need that with Grace. She was the perfect distraction, and enjoyable at that. Sawyer could really see herself falling for that girl – her humor, her body, the way she kissed her worries away and made her scream without much effort. Grace always made the cutest promises and gave the most convincing arguments… And turned very fast from sweet to bitter, over the smallest things. But Sawyer would much rather cry over her relationship than the guy that clearly forgot she ever existed. At least Grace wanted to talk to her and touch her and kiss her in public; at least she wasn’t ashamed.

She clearly didn’t want you that much since she fucked me!

It made Sawyer feel so stupid, to not notice any signs before. No matter how many times she analyzed the course of the four months since she and the band reconnected, she couldn’t find any hint that this would happen. Grace didn’t seem fazed by her girlfriend knowing a pretty famous band. She wasn’t rendered speechless by shaking Calum Hood’s hand. She sure as hell didn’t seem to be attracted to any of them. Hell, for all that Sawyer knew, Grace was a full on lesbian. All of that made her go in circles around those few memories she had of their interactions, trying to find the moment when Luke looked at Grace differently, or where her body language changed. She tried to find the solution to the problem until her head hurt and frustration set in, and from there, the line to screaming and kicking and hitting was very thin.

Irwin passed her a strawberry beer and sat down next to her. A few metres away, a group of high schoolers was starting to drink away to celebrate the weekend. Sawyer couldn’t look away, even though her gaze harbored a lot of disgust.

It’s on those parties where people would promise each other things, like friendship until the grave. Eventually, the only thing left of them was a hangover and disappointment.

“Look, if Luke sent you here to apologize for him…”

“Now, where did that idea come from?” Ashton asked, furrowing his brows. He took a swing out of his bottle, looking towards the group too. Back then, those parties seemed like a lot of fun, especially when they had to make a run for it away from police. Now, when his house would turn into a club every weekend, it just looked silly. “No, Luke didn’t send me. After all, you could say I’m a little pissed at him.”

Sawyer frowned. Maybe it made her naive, but his words simply didn’t make sense in her head. They haven’t been spending any time together recently, nowhere near what they used to. Her perception of Luke, Calum, Michael and Ashton changed from the real state of things to the way the media presented them, to their Instagram posts and fan commentary on their behavior. She felt left out – like just another consumer of their unbreakable friendship. She knew that the three guys would follow Hemmings into a hurricane, and honest to God, Sawyer couldn’t blame them. Maybe she would follow him too… Honestly, Sawyer was already losing it herself, how much she would be able to do in the name of their childhood friendship.

“Why? Ashton, you’re best friends.”

Ashton put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, so that Sawyer could lean on him. She swallowed hard – Ashwood had never been that person, but recently, she really needed a hug. Another thing to add to the list of reasons of why she felt like a fucking idiot.

“I’m friends with you too, Sawyer.” She snorted at his statement. Sawyer expected him to roll his eyes, but he just stared at her with the same disappointment she gave to those kids. His arm dropped from her shoulder, and for a second, she wanted to protest, the weight leaving a phantom pain behind, but he already wrapped his hands around the bottle. “I mean it. Mike is mad at him too. He even said that if Luke won’t stop acting like this, we’ll need to look for a new guitarist. Calum basically breathed down his neck until he deleted Grace’s number and blocked her everywhere.”

She looked down on the pavement. Sawyer had always been hasty. She drew conclusions too quickly and then stubbornly wouldn’t admit her mistake. She hated that about herself, but couldn’t change that behaviour – or maybe she just didn’t want to, because it meant too much work. Everyone always told her at times like these that she should go to a specialist; her highs weren’t supposed to be this high and lows weren’t supposed to be this low. But Sawyer didn’t trust specialists, ever since a bunch of them proved unable to diagnose ADHD in her youth. Everyone told her parents that she was normal, because during an appointment she could sit calmly in an armchair instead of running around the clinic; then they would come back home, where she still couldn’t concentrate, remember the instructions or keep order. Her mum would get mad at her and stop talking to her own daughter until she cleans up her act; her dad would scream, because what fourteen year old forgets to put a plate in the dishwasher or can’t study for a simple math exam. They would call her lazy, an idiot, a fuck up. Sawyer would go to her room and cry, try to muffle it with her pillow or t-shirt, hell, sometimes even fist, because her dad would always say that she doesn’t get to cry because of her own incompetence. She didn’t know she ended up in a psychologist’s office at the end of her freshman year,it could have been her terrible grades or another fight, but it was on this doctor’s recommendation that she finally got a diagnosis…

…and an explanation that she couldn’t get angry about it, because it’s completely normal that it’s harder to diagnose girls.

Even when they prescribed her medication, Sawyer didn’t want to take it. Because of the doctors, she had to manage without the pills her whole childhood and most of the teenage years. If she did it for that long, she could also manage now. It was too late for therapy or other crap that everyone suddenly deemed necessary. All Sawyer wanted was to forget; if all of her symptoms were normal until now, she intended to continue treating them like that. Unfortunately, that very attitude made her unable to cope with it all, and as a result, Sawyer developed a series of traits that she didn’t try to get rid off, even though she could. In the end, she could blame almost everything on ADHD – even though, more often than not, it was the result of her sulking and oversights.

“Ash…” she sighed. “I appreciate it, okay? You know I love you. I- I love Luke too. I just can’t understand why none of you would tell me about it.” Sawyer shrugged.

Now, it was Ashton’s turn to act like the pavement was suddenly very interesting.

“You can’t tell me you didn’t know anything. It was Luke’s fault, yes, but you allowed me to be in a relationship with someone who cheated on me.”

“Sawyer, you know it wasn’t our place to tell you about it,” he cut in.

Sawyer pursed like lips into a thin line, because Ashton was right, as always. If they had run to her with this information, she would have been pissed at everyone; Luke would probably be lying in a grave right now, probably beaten to a pulp with an easel or another random item lying around her small room.

However, after a moment of silence, she asked quietly: “Is he even a bit sorry about the way he acted?”

It was just a shallow manifestation of her desires. Ashwood wanted him to regret it, even if he didn’t shed a tear. She wanted it to stay with him, etched on his consciousness forever, haunting his every relationship. First of all, Sawyer wanted Luke to realise that his pathetic excuses from the party were fucking worthless.

“He is.” Ashton hugged her again. It took him a second to find the right words. “Only… Hemmo style, you know.”

Sawyer knew. She could clearly imagine her friend drunk to the point of unconsciousness, with red eyes, babbling incomprehensibly to anyone who would listen. His style was to suppress problems, often more than necessary. Looking them in the eye… She had never seen Luke do that. Before it even occurred to him to draw conclusions, to come to the terms with consequences, he had to drink and fuck and party them away.

Not that Sawyer was any better.

“I know,” she muttered.

----------

“Hi.”

Sawyer jumped. The kitchen in her friends’ rental home was huge, even by her standard, and Sawyer grew up wealthy. A black bikini hugged her pale body, revealing many tattoos, and wet hair stuck to the nape of her neck. Without make up, her under eye bags could shine with all their glory, and pale lips almost blended in with her skin tone. She only wanted to grab more of the sparkling water before getting back to the swimming pool in their garden. When Ashton invited her last time they saw each other, she initially didn’t want to come, but caved in once Calum and Michael also texted her, nagging to agree. Luke was supposed to be gone, and it was the only fact to convince her – she was ready to rebuild the friendship with the remaining three boys, but the wounds from that night were still fresh.

She made an attempt to just move on and forget, even though that wasn’t something Sawyer would usually do. She truly meant it when she said that she wasted enough time and energy on everything to do with Luke in the span of the last few years.

Sadly, when she turned around to face the entrance to the kitchen, Luke was exactly the person to stand there. Seeing a purple bruise on his cheek, Sawyer felt pride. At least she made a physical mark, if her words didn’t seem to land.

“Hi,” she said, speeding up the process of pouring the drink into her glass. She could feel his eyes scanning her exposed body, and although the suit covered everything it should, under his gaze Sawyer felt almost naked. He probably judged her ink, wondered how Grace found her attractive in the first place. From multiple, messy tattoos on her arms, to an ornament on her stomach and silly cat design on her knees, she could become a color book. It definitely wasn't something Luke was used to seeing on the bodies of all the model’s and pretty girls that came to their parties. Their hair wasn’t fried by bleach, the black polish on their nails wasn’t half-scratched and their lips weren’t chapped. But as she stole a look at him… That definitely wasn’t disgust.

Once upon a time, she wished for Luke to look at her like this. Grace was the first person who managed to make her move on from this sick fantasy of his affection; not only friendly touches, but something on a completely different level. When it first appeared in her dreams, she wanted to wash her eyes with Listerine, but soon after that, Sawyer just… went with it. She couldn’t fight her body’s physical reaction even if she tried, and her body definitely reacted.

It was a shame it didn't get the memo that Luke didn’t exist to them anymore; especially when her nipples started to harden under his gaze, and the black bra did nothing to hide it. The only thing Sawyer could do was hurry to the terrace.

“Sawyer, can you bring some more beers?!” Michael called from the pool. She closed her eyes, irritated. It didn’t help that instead of going further into the house, Luke just stood there, staring. Sawyer was growing pissed at him again, for that simple fact alone. Sure, it was her decision to come over, but he could at least make it easier for the both of them. Her head was working overtime to understand what he was expecting – after the conversation with Ashton, she couldn’t find her footing between hating Hemmings and just wanting him to finally find a good enough excuse that would let her forget and move on. But Sawyer also knew that getting back to how they were wouldn’t satisfy her. She desperately wanted back her friend, the one who gave the best hugs, always helped wash the dye out of her hair, and would listen for hours as she babbled on about the new art exhibition or her last, terrible hook up.

“Sure!” She opened the fridge, but couldn’t find any new cans inside. Sawyer huffed, and started checking the cabinets. She had no idea where it was, and after stumbling through the plates, glasses, almost empty spices, she was nowhere near finding the six-pack.

“It’s here.”

Luke came up behind the kitchen island, fitting into the space next to Sawyer. She turned, leaning her hips against the counter, and drilled her eyes into his face. Even though he opened a floor length cabinet and pulled out what she needed, Luke wouldn’t stop staring at her face, and as a result, they maintained a heavy eye contact that made Sawyer’s skin tingle. The stupid lip ring seemed to taunt her, because she wasn’t able to look away.

It was hard to pinpoint when she started finding Luke attractive – one day, maybe after she saw him in a suit for Ben’s graduation or after one of the Sunday dinners, when they went to the beach, to surf with his family, she came home and the only thought in her head, as Sawyer slipped her hand under the waistband of her shorts, was Luke’s eyes, and his lips, and the texture of his palm when he grabbed her arm, and the way he could push her around with little effort. She felt giddy because of the overwhelming feeling the whole day, knowing deep down that this wasn’t good; not how friends were supposed to think about each other.

“Thanks,” she breathed, taking the beer from his hand. Once upon a time, they were the same height, but now Luke towered over her with multiple centimeters in favor. Sawyer felt trapped between his hard body and the counter. Usually, she would be too stubborn to be the first person to look away, but today, all Sawyer wanted was to be smart.

She looked away, and tried to make her way away from him, away from the kitchen. The longer Sawyer stayed close to Luke, the harder it was to remember that she didn’t want anything to do with him. Her mind and common sense might have been saying one thing, but her body and the nostalgia flooding every second she looked at him… She would prefer him to come back home after she left for the day. Nothing was easier knowing that she could jump back to the old routine, yearning for every sign of him. It would also mean absolute lack of self-respect, but at the end of the day Sawyer knew damn well that she didn’t have much of that in the first place.

Luke’s whole palm closed around her thin upper arm when he grabbed her.

“You don’t have to run away from me,” he said, brushing blond hair out of his eyes. He was dressed neater than usually, an ironed t-shirt and dress parts that Sawyer had not seen him in before. Not that she had seen much of him since they left. Only then did she realise that it was Sunday, and Luke probably came back from the dinner at his parents’ house. She used to be invited to those, and even continued going after Luke was across the planet, but things flaked off once the big drama at her house happened and Sawyer cut ties with her family. She had always loved Liz and appreciated everything that Hemmings’ did for her, but deep down, she knew that Liz would talk about her to her mum, and Sawyer wanted nothing to do with them. She could do well just fine by herself, and giving them an opportunity to keep tabs on her was as far out of her interest zone as possible.

“Luke… I really don’t want to talk about all of that,” she admitted, not bothering to pull her arm out of his grip. “It’s better if we just ignore each other.” In her hand, that was the only solution that made sense.

Sawyer always missed Luke, she thought about him and watched out for him in the news. She fixated so much on his person, she seemed to have forgotten that although Calum, Mike and Ashton were friends she made much later, they were also a huge part of her life and a comfort zone. Knowing that they valued her as a friend even after all this time, made her want to make amends.

“Sawyer, you’re at my house,” he scoffed.

“Oh,” Sawyer matched his tone and crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you going to be a dick again? I’m here for your housemates, Luke,” she clarified, although both of them knew that. What she didn’t know was that Ashton told Luke about her visit, and it made blond that much more motivated to leave the family dinner earlier. “Now, will you let me go, or do you have some more brilliant comments?”

“I’m not being a dick…” He immediately let go of her arm, the warmth of his touch leaving a red mark on her pale skin. Luke tried to find the right words, something that might give him a fighting chance.

When he came to his childhood house, Liz noticed the bruise on his cheek from the moment she opened the doors and his brother teased him about it through the whole dinner. Luke had been on edge since that party, not only Sawyer making a valid scene, but also his bandmates switching sides; the last thing he needed was Ben and Jack being nosy about the plum markings on his face. Naturally, Luke snapped at them and admitted that the reason for his appearance was Sawyer. His mum always dropped a plate of potatoes, and she didn’t even wait until they finished eating before asking what the fuck did he do to provoke her. Of course, as much as Luke tried to play it down and lead his mother away from the topic of the blonde, the more she drilled, and eventually, Luke had to end up telling her some version of what happened recently. Simply saying, Liz was not a fan of that – she lectured him on how to treat a woman, especially a woman that you have feelings for. Luke wanted to laugh, but after another twenty minutes of the one sided conversation, he was pretty sure his mum might have been right.

There was nothing casual about the way he felt about Sawyer Ashwood.

Looking at her then, ready to leave that kitchen with her back turned on him, miscellaneous colored hair glued to her nape and a black swimming suit hugging her hips tightly, Luke felt like this was his last chance to get that point across. All he wanted to do was get back to how they were, except not really, because this time around, he also wanted to be able to kiss her lips anytime he wanted; he wanted to know her every tattoo in detail, trail his tongue across every inch of her skin, make sure that when they go on the next tour, she’ll be waiting back here for him. Even if Sawyer wasn’t able to see it now, Luke would give her time, but beforehand, ruin her so thoroughly she wouldn’t be able to look at anyone else.

“I meant what I said at the party,” he said, ready for the hurricane that it might invoke. “The part about how I didn’t want to see you with Grace. I was jealous that she just gets to have you…” The blonde turned around, her expression hard to read. Luke was ready for her to approach him and slap him in the bruised cheek again, but she just stood there, considering his words. He took it as a sign to continue. “Look, I fucked up. I should have been calling and texting while we were away, fuck, send you letters. But a part of me wanted to move on.”

“And did you? Move on I mean?” she asked, her brown eyes darker. She set her glass and the beer on the counter, leaning on it with her hip. The two meters of space between them seemed like a lot, but at least Luke was able to think straight; when she was close, he felt a step from complete madness, his every bone screaming to just close the distance and finally have the kiss that he dreamed about for years. It wasn’t just about the way Sawyer looked; it was about knowing how fierce she was and she would match him beat for beat.

“No! Why would I sleep with Grace if I did?” he asked, exasperated. How could she not get it? Sawyer was never a good student, but Luke would never call her stupid. Maybe she wasn’t the best from math or geography, but she would figure out any situation.

“I don’t know Luke! You’re giving me mixed signals all the time!” Sawyer needed no time to get just as riled up, and although it should have made him scared, it only made the desire under his skin crawl. He couldn’t bear to look at her and not feel it stirring in his stomach, when all the blonde was wearing was the swimming suit. “We've been best friends since we were born, and then all of a sudden you leave and cut ties with me! Then you come back, and start inviting me to parties as if nothing happened. You sleep with my fucking girlfriend, but for some reason, it’s because you want me? Sorry if it doesn’t make any fucking sense!” She gesticulated with her hands, and raised her voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Calum coming up to the glass terrace doors, closing them to give the two some privacy. He was not stupid; he knew that Ashton probably planned it exactly so they could bump into each other and work this out, because Irwin couldn’t help but meddle in people’s business.

“I do want you! Why is that so hard to believe, Sawyer?!”

All her life, all Sawyer wanted was to be loved and cherished, and she found a friend who did just that. Was it wishful thinking, wanting to have that friendship forever? It all begun getting complicated when she started having a fucking crush on Luke, or maybe just on the way he looked, but back then, she was able to control it. Sawyer could move past that. She could sleep with other people, women to take her mind off his appearance, and guys who could pass as him under the right light. She could gaslight herself into relationship after relationship, acting like he wasn’t the person she thought about when they fucked.

“Because you said you want me as a friend, and then you stopped taking my calls! You told me it was all going to be ok, but it wasn’t, Luke! I needed a friend, so many times, and you wouldn’t pick up your damn phone! You lied to me about Grace! I know I used to be able to read you, but not anymore! I don’t think I even trust anything that’s coming out of your mouth-”

Luke cut her off – he wasn’t able to listen to this anymore, mostly because deep down he realised that Sawyer was right about everything. She had no reasons to trust him, but he also knew that this call was coming from somewhere else. He only noticed it after his mum pointed it out, but the blonde always seemed to put herself down. Luke knew it was probably because of her parents; her dad would always comment on her clothes being too revealing, then being too baggy. Once Sawyer was too skinny, another time too fat, and then on a good day he would buy her sweets on top of that. It didn’t help that her mum would always talk about Sawyer getting a nose job in the feature. At some point, she started modifying her appearance for her own pleasure, but also to give her parents something else to talk about than her face and her body.

It’s not that Luke had always been attracted to his best friend, but he grew to appreciate her looks a bit too much. Maybe it was contemplating her profile for too long, or stalking her social media when Calum snored a bit too loud. Her pointed slim nose and the warm brown of her eyes, that stared into your soul and saw every little piece of you; her petite body, shoulders covered in light freckles and those fucking tattoos, that she somehow positioned in all the right places. Multiple times, Luke would dream of painting them over with his tongue – the vines on her underboob, the tribal below her navel, that fucking tramp stamp she got illegally done at sixteen that said “babygirl”. He also dreamed of tasting the cherry Carmex off her lips, and seeing how sensitive her nipples were, since Sawyer rarely wears a bra and more than often, he was able to get a good look at them.

Fuck, Luke wanted to have his way with her, trapped in his sheets of hours, and showing just how strong his desire was. Just how pretty and attractive she had always been to him.

First, though, he had to shut her up – and the only effective way to do that seemed to be connecting their lips in a kiss. It was bruising, because the longer Luke listened to her monologue, the more pissed he would get; at himself and at everything around them that just wouldn’t let this happen properly. He should have invited her on a date, showered her with tour tickets, and flown her out to cities just to have her at his side for a few hours. But it was too late for that, and instead, the only idea in his head was to close the distance between them and just show her first hand how much she meant.

At first, she just stood there, unmoving and shocked. The last thing Sawyer expected was for him to actually kiss her, to feel his hands grip on to her hips and hold her in place. Would he stop if she stayed unresponsive? Just how far was Luke willing to take this? Sawyer knew damn well that if he allowed to take her foot off the break, she wouldn’t be able to stop again. She closed her eyes, slowly putting her own hands on his shoulders, letting her lips purse, trying to kiss back just when Luke decided to pull away. His eyes were glazed over and hooded as he looked at her, breathing hard.

“Do you trust this?” he asked, his voice hoarse. His fingers trailed to the naked skin on her stomach. “Was this honest enough for you?”

Sawyer frowned, trying to make sense of his words. Her brain was screaming, going into overdrive. This was definitely overstimulating, but the restless butterflies in her stomach made Sawyer hesitant to stop. There was no going back from this anyway, and even if Luke would turn his back on her again afterwards, at least she would know if those years of daydreaming were justified.

“No,” she breathed out, inhaling sharply, before letting her hands drift to the nape of his neck. Standing on her toes, Sawyer pulled him down, almost causing Luke to trip over. Last second, he hugged her waist, using the blonde as an anchor; soon enough, he used that same grip to lift her onto the counter, putting their faces on the same level.

Sawyer moaned when he used her thighs to pull her to the edge; maybe because she was only wearing a swimsuit, but his every touch burned her skin. She was sure if she just took a second to look down, Luke would actually be leaving red marks in his wake. But the kiss was too all-consuming – she could taste the cigarettes he started to smoke recently and a hint of tea that she knew for a fact Liz made everyone drink after the dinner. When his tongue slipped into her mouth, it forced her to gasp and cling to his neck harder. And that fucking ring… Feeling it against her lips was driving Sawyer crazy.

His hands explored her skin, skimming from the thighs to the sides of her stomach, sometimes hooking under the lines of her bikini bottoms. Luke had the placement of her tattoos burned into his brain, and Sawyer noticed that his thumb always circulated the lines on her hip, the design on her knees. She could feel his fingertips touching the material of her bikini top, and scoffed when he wouldn’t even grab her breast through it. They were way past shy, when she could feel the material of her panties slowly become soaked in the arousal.

“Just touch me,” she suggested, breaking the kiss. Her forehead resting against his, the blonde tried to collect herself at least a little bit. The calloused fingertips of his fingers caused by playing the guitar without a pick made her shiver. The way Luke looked at her, Sawyer could tell that he was too far gone. She herself was only able to think straight because of the stress that inwillingly settled itself in the back of her head.

Sex wasn’t anything new to her. In a way, Sawyer was a highly experienced person, and her ex partners would confirm just that. No matter how many hook ups she had though, Sawyer was sure Luke outdid her. She was also sure that her experience, as considerable as it was, wouldn’t be that valid when it mostly limited itself to fingering and eating out girls. Luke might have been the third or fourth boy she would ever be involved with sexually, and it wasn't even that Sawyer was worried about not pleasing him, but simply making a fool out of herself. In her mind, this was a one time thing. She wouldn’t be able to get Luke to herself ever again, because for all the blonde knew, he might have forgotten about her by the very next day.

Maybe Luke Hemmings really wanted her, but it was just another whim of a spoiled rockstar.

Sawyer didn’t care as her lips trailed kisses down his neck, finding a particularly sensitive spot just below his jaw. She left multiple open mouth kisses just there, before closing her teeth on the creamy skin. On her lips, she could feel the short hairs of his stubble. At least Luke finally groped her chest, and hearing that just a little graze of her teeth can make him moan, Sawyer was excited to see what else she can cause. After making sure that her mark would be visible, the blonde straightened, catching his gaze again.

“Sawyer.” It was a warning, when her hand reached behind her back to untie the knots of her suit. His breath sounded laboured, even though no one had taken their clothes off yet. Juts from sitting there, knowing what was to come, Sawyer could feel her thighs tremble in anticipation.

“Luke.” With a teasing smile, she let the black material drop to reveal her chest. The blonde always considered it was nothing to write home about; if not for the nipples, Sawyer could probably pass as a ten year old, but she never felt tempted to do anything about it. Surgeries were too expensive and invasive, and she enjoyed not having to wear a bra enough to not feel too insecure about the size of her boobs. That said, when they immediately caught Luke’s attention and she saw his throat bob as he swallowed, a weird sense of pride coursed through her. He seemed entranced, unable to look away.

“The guys can probably see everything in the window,” he explained, although his hands started climbing up the newly exposed skin. Sawyer smiled to herself; seeing him unable to stop his own reflexes made her desire even stronger. If he wasn’t standing in between them, he would have to clench his thighs.

“Then take me to your bedroom, or move on and fuck me here,” Sawyer whined, letting her own hand let go of his neck to play with her own nipple. If Luke wasn’t going to, she had nothing against pleasing herself; wouldn’t be the first time someone watched her masturbate.

Luke bit his lower lip. When he kissed her, there was no bigger plan behind it, definitely not going to bed with his best friend. Sawyer shocked him with her boldness, but Luke wasn’t the only one who changed in the last few years. If he actually took her to his bedroom, there would be no going back from this. They would fuck, and Luke would become even more confused about what the fuck was happening between them. As if the situation wasn’t confusing enough! Even though she considered this a one night stand, Luke didn’t think he would be able to survive it and move on; he would become inconsiderably whipped for Sawyer, and it was a positively scary feeling, especially knowing the kind of girl she was. Most guys wouldn’t survive Sawyer Ashwood, and it was probably the reason she almost exclusively dated women – why waste her time on someone who wouldn’t be able to handle all the wonderful and bad that came with being hers.

She was fierce and loud, and definitely not media trained, or even possible to tame. She had feelings bigger than herself and didn’t know how to deal with them. She wouldn’t tell him if something was wrong, she wouldn’t express her feelings… Fuck, both of them were simply terrible at communicating, terrible at relationships. But Luke knew for a fact that he had a lot of time to figure it out, here, with her, and maybe Sawyer would just work with him.

“Fuck,” he huffed, and gripped her underthighs. Sawyer’s legs curled around his waist, and soon, Luke was carrying her to his bedroom.

Even though he moved, the room was still messy, although it had less personality. No posters, no books, just a bed and a nightstand, with a single picture from Ashton’s graduation on it. He never stayed in school long enough to get one from theirs, and when Sawyer’s ceremony happened a year later, she ended up having a breakdown and never showing up. Out of the two of them, he always had the better prospects of getting an education, but somehow she was there alone?

He dropped her on the bed, hovering over and connecting their lips again. Sawyer’s legs never stopped hugging him, pressing their hips together. After all those years of build up, all she wanted was to just get to the main part. She pulled him down, making Luke drop his whole body on her; it was a trick to flip them, so the blonde could be on top. In no time, Luke sat up straight and started kissing her breasts, teasing one of the nipples with his thumb and tracing the valley between them with his tongue. It was a weird sensation, his hot tongue against her skin, not so long submerged in the cold water. But all of that cold was present now, when the arousal heated her like a furnace.

Sawyer moaned in pleasure, fiddling with the ties of her bikini on the back, to take the bra off completely. She threw it somewhere on the floor, before moving on to Luke. He couldn’t stay fully clothed while she was almost naked – her hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled it up, not caring about all the buttons. Luke helped her, raising his arms and taking his lips off her skin. One of her hands splayed across his chest, moving down to his stomach and below the navel. Sawyer bit her lip.

She did just that in her dreams so many times, feeling like a teenage fangirl, even though she knew Luke Hemmings better than most. At some point, he just stopped being real to her, an urban legend that Sawyer kept on believing in, a conspiracy theory. Seeing him half naked, touching his skin, made a part of her brain tingle; the exact part that was slowly doubting he had ever been real. Except Luke was really fucking real, touching and kissing and having his way with her. Maybe she was just another girl for him, but for Sawyer, this meant a lot.

She might have tried to gaslight that importance out of this encounter… But at the end of the day, Sawyer would be analysing this over and over while falling asleep, rethinking his every touch, every kiss. Her dreams didn’t come true often enough to let this go easily.

“Like what you see?” he asked, a cocky grin across his lips, although Luke really wanted to hear that she did like it.

Sawyer had always been the kind of friend who would put on a neutral face and push toward the final goal, except now, he had no idea what it was. Was she still mad or did this mean everything had been forgiven? He was about to see her naked for the first time ever, and not knowing if she did it out of desire or spite crossed his mind more than once. Luke needed anything to grasp onto, even if it was a simple compliment.

“I’m just wondering what Grace thought at this very moment.”

The pointed look she sent him was enough to make Luke’s blood boil anew. Even in the middle of all of this, she had the ability to piss him off, even if just a bit. He sure as hell wasn’t getting back to this now; instead, Luke connected their lips in yet another kiss, placing her down on the mattress. He settled between her legs, while continuing to kiss down her body. His lips traveled over her skin, tongue slightly darting out to leave a wet pathway. Finally, he could explore all the ink on it, and one look up told Luke that Sawyer enjoyed it just as much.

He hooked his fingers under the band of her bottoms, and Sawyer wasted no time to lift her hips to help him slide her off. Her lips fell open when, instead of coming fully back up, Luke settled at the feet of the mattress and started kissing up from her calf. Well, that was oddly familiar. She watched with glazed eyes, moaning softly every time he bit down on her skin or got awfully close to her core, just to back out again. While she rested on one of her elbows to be able to see Luke, the other hand sneaked into his messy hair.

“Stop being a tease, Luke,” Sawyer huffed, pulling at the ends of the blond strands. He looked up, the blue eyes crashing into her brown ones. They were so much darker, but somehow still familiar; Sawyer realised he looked at her like this before – when they met up before prom and she wore a form fitting black dress, when they tried sneaking into a club and Sawyer made a point of wearing pants low enough to show off the stamp on her lower back. “Fuck,” she moaned, so lost in the realization that only the feeling of his fingers finally making contact woke her up.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groaned, spreading her open with his fingers. Sawyer bit her lips, waiting for him to finally do something more than just admire and tease. It was such a guy thing to do, but she decided to stay quiet for now, if only for the sake to finally find some release.

Sparing one last look at her blushed face, Luke finally lowered his lips. Sawyer gasped, feeling his tongue exploring her, up and down, skimming over her clit. She waited for his movements to organize, to find the rhythm that she so desperately needed. It took him a second, but eventually, Luke concentrated on her most sensitive spot, circling it with his tongue and pressing it flat. When she almost gasped for him to do more, Luke teased at her entrance with one finger, slipping it inside painfully slowly. Just his finger was much bigger that what Sawyer was usually used to start with, but she took it like a champ, without a sound. Last thing she needed was for Luke to think of her as inexperienced.

Besides, it only took a second to get used to the feeling. Under Luke’s actions, Sawyer turned into a mess, her legs bending at the knees and falling over his shoulders, pulling on his hair a bit stronger than necessary, back arching on the mattress. The last thing Luke expected was for Sawyer to be so vocal about her pleasure.

They both seemed to have forgotten about their friends sitting by the pool, wondering where the blonde had disappeared, even though the sounds coming from Luke’s window were pretty telling. Ashton never expected for this to happen when he invited Sawyer over, but as long as his friends weren’t fighting, he couldn’t care less. Besides, everyone around Sawyer and Luke seemed to have suspected that there was something bound to happen between them. Some people didn’t believe in friendships between boys and girls, while others thought that when you get to know someone this well, you either start to love or hate them. Judging by the moans, these two fell under the first option.

“Luke, I need more.” Sawyer pulled at his hair again, forcing him to speed up the movement of his tongue. Luke was becoming sloppier with every second, the taste of her arousal and the sounds getting into his head. He looked up, not understanding what she meant at first. Propping herself on shaky hands, Sawyer’s palm cradled his cheek, pulling him away from her clit. “Luke, please, can you finally fuck me?” she asked, her tone full of pretension.

“Is Sawyer Ashwood going to beg?” Luke asked with a teasing smile, but obediently left the valley between her legs, kneeling on the mattress to kiss her neck yet again.

“Fuck no,” she scoffed, Sawyer’s fingers finding the button of his jeans and undoing it together with the zipper. She started to pull the material down together with his boxers, her short nails scratching at his skin when the jeans got stuck. Noticing it, Luke helped her, pulling them low enough for his hard cock to spring free. “Oh my- Shit,” she cursed, seeing his length and girth. Blush immediately covered her cheeks at the thought of making him fit alone. The last time Sawyer was in bed with a guy, he was much smaller, and she did everything to forget the encounter afterward.

“Wha-” Luke looked up, and seeing her red face and eye trained on his cock, he knew something was up. Anyone else would have taken it as pure awe, but he knew Sawyer well enough to know that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that his size was impressive. “Wait, is this your first time?” he asked, face paling. That would elevate the pressure drastically, because of all the people in the world, he wouldn't want Sawyer to have a bad first time.

“What? No,” she breathed out, finally lifting her gaze to his shocked face. “But you are maybe the third guy to sleep with me? Feel blessed,” she added, shrugging it off. It wasn’t that big of a deal, and nothing could have been worse than her first time at some stupid party, when Sawyer decided to pull the first available blond guy into a free bedroom and strip him, both of them so drunk that it took him almost five minutes and three condoms to finally find her entrance.

“Do you have a condom?” She bit her lip. There was never a point for Sawyer to get on the pill, but now that she started sleeping with guys, maybe there were certain things to reconsider.

Luke only nodded, stepping off the bed and almost tripping because of the jeans stuck at his knees. He kicked them off completely, before opening the night stand and pulling out a string of foil packets. He ripped one off with his teeth, opening it in the blink of an eye. The whole time, Sawyer watched his movements, studying the muscles on his stomach and everything happening below the waist, committing it to memory. The messy blond hair fell over his forehead, and all she wanted to do was snap a photo, finally having one of her own, one that no paparazzi could ever take.

“How do you want me?” Once the condom was rolled on his cock, Luke joined her on the mattress again, finding Sawyer playing with her clit. He leaned down to her chest, taking a nipple between his teeth, eliciting another moan. Usually, he preferred his partners to stay quiet, but something about Sawyer showing off just how pleased she was made him even harder.

“What does the chef recommend?” she asked, her voice hoarse from the moaning. Luke laughed, before laying down with his head on the pillow. His hand started stroking his cock, and he could see the fire that it ignited in Sawyer, if only by her lips parting open.

“I want you to ride me,” he announced, reaching out to pull her closer. Sawyer straddled him obediently, sitting on his thighs. “Touch me, Ashwood,” he challenged, knowing that she wouldn’t back down from it.

Although tentatively, Sawyer wrapped her hands around his cock and started stroking it, riding on his thigh, where her clit received the perfect amount of friction. Luke gave her a few moments to get used to his size, and when she sped up her movements, he gestured to take over. With one of his hands, he guided Sawyer’s hips up and made her sit closer, guiding the head to tease her entrance.

She had been right in one thing – her appearances weren’t similar to the models Luke was used to sleeping with. They didn’t have tattoos or piercings in their noses, their breasts were small but at least stuck out a little bit, there were no razor bumps on their pubis and they knew how to handle a guy. But Sawyer’s rawness, all those things that she might have considered imperfections, were exactly what attracted him the worst. The blonde was real, as real as it gets; she didn’t have money to get lasers and dyed her hair at home, she wore basic cotton underwear and wasn’t a particular vixen. But Sawyer still had her confidence and didn’t care what he thought about all those little details. In the world of perfection and appearances that Luke’s routine had become, she reminded him that this was what life actually looked like, and what he actually wanted.

“Should I go slow, or…?” He asked. Sawyer’s head was thrown back in pleasure, as he continued to slide his cock on her clit. His breath was getting laboured, because just watching the blonde as he ate her out before was enough to work him up. Luke knew he wouldn’t last long, but she also seemed close to the finish line. They could always go again – Luke would cancel all his plans just to prolong this moment of understanding between them.

“Just go,” she cried out, biting her lip and looking down at Luke. She moved her hands from his thighs to his chest, letting her nails ram into his skin as he started pushing his cock in. Her mouth fell open, and soon, a moan escaped it. “Fuck, Luke, yes,” she gasped, slowly letting her hips drop, taking more and more of his length.

“Sawyer, you take me so well,” Luke groaned, closing his eyes at the sensation of her tight pussy. Somehow, the realisation that he was one of the first guys to ever fuck her made him proud; a stupid, manly sensation that puffed his ego anyway. Luke grabbed her hips, helping Sawyer pace herself. Honestly, he was enjoying the slow start that allowed him to feel every inch she managed to take. “Shit, such a good girl…”

“Shut up,” she cut him off, not letting him get too creative with the nicknames. Once his whole cock was inside her, she took a second to get used to it. Sawyer had never felt so full before, even with a vibrator.

Only after a minute, she started swaying her hips to the sides, her nails scratching Luke’s pecks. His hands helped to guide her, showing Sawyer how to move on top to pleasure both of them. She moved her hips in circles, lifting off the last few inches before falling back, each move deliberate. His tip touched the specific spot inside her every time, making both of them gasp.

With every second, she sped up her movements, making them more chaotic and sloppy. She quickly got tired of using her legs to lift her hips up and down, and soon, Luke had to help Sawyer up by lifting her himself. She was committed, and tried to last as long as possible. It was hard when the pleasure was attacking her from everywhere.

Thankfully, Luke intervened, sitting up and driving his hips to fuck into her. Sawyer grabbed his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, moaning into his swollen lips. She could still taste herself on them, and somehow, it made her come even closer to the release. His moves got sloppier by seconds. Soon they were moaning, holding each other tightly.

“Come for me, c’mon Sawyer,” Luke urged, kissing the corner of her mouth tenderly.

“I can’t. I need-” she said, just when he drove his hips up with a bigger force than before, leaving her to whine. Sawyer’s head rested on Luke’s shoulder.

“What do you need, baby?” Luke’s voice was tender. As his hips snapped up to fuck into Sawyer, he realised that even if it wasn’t her first time, he still wanted her to remember it fondly. Even before he came, Luke knew that he wanted this to happen again. He aimed to please, if only to etch himself into her memories, fuck her up so badly she wouldn’t be able to find the same pleasure anyway else.

“Touch my clit,” she asked, and in no time, Luke’s finger was pressing against her sensitive spot, moving in circles. It took only a few more snaps of his hips to feel her thighs tremble, and hear her moaning his name.

Even though Sawyer got her orgasm, Luke rode her through it, chasing his own release. Her body fell limp against him, but after two more sloppy moves, Luke spilled into the condom, his back falling spent against the headboard.

“Fuck, you were incredible,” he mumbled, tired from the activity. Slowly, Sawyer raised her head from his shoulder, looking at him with a smile that could make a whole city light up. “You are incredible, Sawyer. And beautiful.” Luke leaned in, kissing her nose. He brushed through her tangled hair with his hand, taming it.

Fuck, he had never been the one for the aftercare, but with her, all he wanted was to make sure she felt good and wouldn’t be sore the next day.

“Thank you,” she chuckled. “We have to work on your head abilities, but…” Luke raised his brow. He hoped that they could be honest at least now, because well, this was quite a vulnerable situation. As if seeing his doubt, her expression softened. “Every time I was with a guy before, I wanted to forget about it right after, but I don’t want to forget this,” she admitted, blushing slightly. As if on cue, she started slowly lifting her hips to free herself of his cock.

Sawyer slid off the mattress, finding her soaked panties on the floor. Typically, Luke would be the one to run from a conversation while she pushed for it, but maybe they exchanged roles. Maybe Sawyer was tired of being the bigger person, the mature one, who will prompt every conversation and motivate the solution to conflicts. For once, she didn’t want to put her heart on her sleeve for him and see the reaction it would trigger.

“You can take a pair of my boxers, they’re in the wardrobe,” he proposed, seeing how she scanned her bottoms with doubt. Sawyer nodded, and approached the dresser door, soon finding a pair of black underwear. “So, I was good?” he asked teasingly.

“Average,” she threw over her shoulder with a smirk, putting the boxers on. They were almost falling off her hips, but all she needed was to get downstairs, where her clothes waited on the washing machine in the bathroom.

Sawyer found her bra on the floor, and came up to the bed, sitting down, and letting Luke tie it over her nape and back.

“Friends don’t lie, Sawyer,” he reminded her with a scoff, but seeing her profile twist in doubt, Luke swallowed hard. “We’re friends, right?”

“I-” Sawyer stood up, looking at him with lost, brown eyes.

She really wanted to say yes. Why throw away so many years of history because of one mistake? But a part of her couldn’t just lie to him, as if the second they weren’t done her mind hadn't drifted to the thought of Grace’s having him first. As if she could forget all those nights she needed to talk to someone and would dial his number again and again, just to end up with ten voice messages and even more doubts about her life than before. They had an idea of each other, but nothing else. Maybe she would be able to get to know him again, but Sawyer knew that it would take time to gain the old level of trust; even though it would break her heart, seeing how he looked at her with hope filling his eyes.

She had Luke exactly where she wanted him, but somehow it wasn’t all as easy as she thought. It didn’t feel as good as she thought to deal the killing blow, even though Luke hurt her first.

“I don’t know,” Sawyer admitted, coming up to the door. Maybe Luke needed a taste of his own medicine. “Call me when you figure your shit out, or if you want to do this again.”

With that said, Sawyer left his bedroom, and Luke’s body slumped over the headboard. He followed her steps as long as he could, before closing his eyes and exhaling.

Luke Hemmings knew two things:

First of all, in no universe would he have the space and mental capacity to figure his life out while sleeping with Sawyer Ashwood.

Second of all, Luke wouldn’t be able to let go of Sawyer now that he knew how it felt to have her.

#5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #michael clifford #calum hood #ashton irwin #luke 5sos #calum 5sos #ashton 5sos #michael 5sos #5sos smut

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waxingrunes · 1 year ago

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happy jesus sunday,

how do you think the conversation between wolfstar would go, when it comes to 'would u love me if i were still a raging worm' ? 'would u still be loyal to me'? 'would you stay married to me'?

like who would most likely ask it, how would it go, when would it be asked, would it be in the morning with coffee or pillowtalk, would crying be involved, would it be a one answer (etcetc). Please let me pick at and worm into ur brain (pun intended har har)

Happy Jesus Sunday indeed. I know this was from a couple Sundays ago, so I hope you’re still around.

I think Remus would be more concerned about the implications of Sirius’ safety if he were to become a worm. He would continue to ask questions and indulge the idea, just because he enjoys the way Sirius takes it very, very seriously and provides oddly thought out responses that feeds the impression he’s been holding off asking this for a while. The conversation could take place at any moment, no matter whether it was opportune or not; if they were in class and Sirius is bored he’d lean over and ‘hey, Moony—’, or if it were after schooling years, I could see Sirius standing there looking a bit lost in thought but it’s the type of daze that Remus knows ends in a question, so he, ‘what is it Sirius.’

“What do you mean there would be a lack of substance?”

“Sirius, how would we hold a conversation.”

“I don’t know, isn’t there worm language? Sign language? WSL?”

“Worms don’t have hands.”

“Well they must communicate in some way. Wiggle a certain way or something.”

“Perhaps, but in this scenario you’re the only one who’s a worm so you can wiggle, but I still won’t understand you”.

*silence*

…

“Our love should transcend words you should understand me on a soul level, your argument is void”.

“Okay baby.”

“Okay.”

“What about the more carnal desires, how would w—“

“You’re already thinking about cheating on me?!”

Sirius is definitely the one more likely to ask because he may be one of the sharpest kids on the block but his brain also works in ways even Remus can’t figure out, and would regularly pose hypothetical situations. Remus, is more logically thinking around facts and stats, whereas Sirius, although he is very much the same when it comes to important situations and is action orientated (if not sometimes a little too much) his imagination does roll out a little far into silly scenarios. And his silly side is rife at times. It has to be, because James Potter is his best friend.

#ask #wolfstar #remus #sirius

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laineystein · 2 years ago

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I am genuinely curious - what is your opinion on practicing streams of Judaism? (Orthodox vs conservative vs reform vs Reconstructionist). I’m aware there are Israelis have the opinion that diaspora Jews- especially Americans, are Jew(ish), and not necessarily Jewish, if that makes sense? I know there are asshats that get quite nasty towards Israelis and I find that to be disgusting.

Me personally, I always found that to be very hurtful. I’m American, grew up Reform. In the sanctuary part of the Temple, we had two flags positioned on each corner of the sanctuary in the front: one was American, one was Israeli. My Rabbi, my Cantor, and my Sunday school teachers raised us to believe Israelis are distant cousins. Different but similar ideas, customs etc, but all part of the same family. So when 10/07 happened I (like many diaspora Jewish people), were shaken to the core.

And no matter what my personal issues are about the process of the military operation, and Bibi and his govt, I wish and hope everyone stays as safe as they can be while trying to get the hostages out and destroy Hamas.

So I was just wondering what your thoughts are about the clashes between the different streams of practice. I always feel that now is not the time to argue about who is or isn’t more Jewish. We are all feeling the after effects of what Hamas did, and the anti semitism that it has sparked. Once we have peace, then people can debate and bicker if they wish (but I really hope less of us do that). ♥️

So I contemplated how (or if) I’d answer this because I really think Am Yisrael needs ahavas chinam right now and I don’t want to do anything to promote sinas chinam. But I think you can disagree with something and still respect it and show love for your fellow Jews who may practice differently than you do and I think that *is* Ahavas chinam.

So I’d just ask that just as I’m affording respect to others who are different that people respect my view points as well.

So here we go…

A Jew is a Jew is a Jew. Even antizionist Jews, those are still Jews. Even atheist Jews, those are still Jews. I do believe in matrilineal inheritance of Judaism but I’m not going to treat someone differently if their father is their only Jewish parent and they were raised Jewish. It is not my place to say who is Jewish and who is not; I can have my viewpoints but ultimately I am not a Rav.

I was raised orthodox. I didn’t meet a “reform” Jew until med school (which was the first time I ever went to school with goyim) — the denominations you’re referring to are mostly western constructs. There are a few reform shuls in Israel but they’re not as common as they are in America. I am going to be very honest with you and share that many reform practices make me incredibly uncomfortable. Do I think that people that practice them are any less Jewish? Absolutely not.

As someone who spent half of their life in the diaspora (albeit in very Jewish communities with little contact with goyim) I absolutely do not subscribe to any belief that diaspora Jews are any less Jewish. That’s abhorrent. I don’t personally know any Israelis that believe that but I’m sure they exist. All Jews, regardless of their location, are valid.

I will say that it is interesting to me to hear that your teachers referred to Israelis as “distant cousins” - all of am Yisrael is a single tribe. I would only ever refer to a fellow Jew as a brother or sister regardless of whether or not they lived in Israel or the diaspora. It seems there might be some anti-Israel bias in that teaching, which is unfortunate. And it’s amusing because your question insinuates that Orthodox Jews and Israelis are less accepting of reform Jews and diasporic Jews and that’s interesting to hear because my experience has always been the exact opposite.

But in Israel we have similar issues where our religious communities spar with our less observant communities. It was very apparent in our most recent elections and the protests that followed. I find myself existing in both communities and it can be challenging sometimes. Some of my secular friends do have negative attitudes toward more frum communities. Those same frum communities may look down on my more secular friends. Because I do and always have existed in both groups I see both sides. I think both of these black and white attitudes are a chillul hashem and will get us nowhere.

But bottom line, how a Jew lives their life and their relationship with Hashem is none of my business. You do you; Jew do Jew.

(This was kind of all over the place and there’s a lot of tangents I actually *didn’t* go down believe it or not so if you want some clarification, feel free to ask. Or you can DM me and I’m happy to chat about it that way too.)

#lainey things #ask things #Jew things #this was a doozy

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jjoongsdiamond · 27 days ago

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In the Quiet of the Cafe☕️

Chapter Seven - The Weight of Maybe

(Present—Hana’s POV)

The rhythm of her days had always been steady.

Mornings with Areum. Coffee and crumbs. Wiping sticky fingers. Afternoons at the café. Laughter, music, and memories stacked behind the counter like unpaid tabs. Evenings of bath time, bedtime, lullabies sung in a voice that trembled more often than it didn’t.

It was a quiet, predictable life. And she’d fought hard for that peace.

But now, he was back — and everything trembled again.

Hongjoong had visited three times that week.

Once with a stuffed dinosaur. Once with a small ukelele he promised to teach Areum to play. And once with nothing at all — just his presence, and a question in his eyes every time he looked at Hana.

She knew what he was asking without words.

Is there still room in your life for me?

She didn’t have an answer.

Because she didn’t trust herself to say the wrong thing again.

Seeing Hongjoong in front of her after so many years of watching him on TV, or watching Ateez music videos, it brought back all the feelings she thought she had tucked far away.

The intensity of their relationship wasn’t simply a high school romance—if Hongjoong hadn’t had dreams that took him away from her, they’d probably have been end game.

But he did leave, and long distance was never an option, especially when he was part of the K-pop industry. There were contracts, NDAs, and too many secrets.

And Areum would have been involved in that; she would have been at risk—she still is.

But that didn’t stop Hana from crying, hidden away in the bathroom, when Hongjoong left that day—recalling their closeness, their bond back then. She missed it.

And she knew she needed to eventually tell Areum that Hongjoong was more than the “nice music man who was Hana’s friend”. He was her father, and she deserved to know.

---

She sat with Minseok that night on the roof of her apartment, long after Areum had been tucked into bed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said, the words slipping out like water.

Minseok raised a brow. “You’re letting Areum know her father. That’s a pretty damn good start.”

She picked at a loose thread on her sleeve. “It’s more than that now.”

His eyes softened. “You still love him.”

She didn’t reply. She hadn’t admitted it out loud, but he was right. The moment she saw Hongjoong again all the feelings came flying back. She loved him again—she had never stopped.

“You never really stopped,” Minseok adding, confirming her thoughts. “You just buried it under everything else.”

“I had to,” Hana whispered. “I had to stop waiting for him. I had to raise her on my own. I had let go of the life we planned.”

Before Areum—before he left—she had planned to eventually join him in Seoul. The hope of one day maybe joining him in songwriting, a shared passion of theirs, once he had debuted, once everything had settled.

Minseok didn’t push. He never did.

“You think he wants it back?” she asked after a while. “That version of us?”

“I think he wants whatever version of you still exists, I think he feels exactly the same as you. The moment he saw you, the feelings come straight back to him too,” he said. “And I think he wants Areum to be part of his world—not just a secret he visits on Sundays.”

---

The next morning, Hana found herself at the piano in the back of the café.

It hadn’t been touched in years. Her grandmother’s old upright—slightly out of tune, but still warm beneath her fingers. The piano was something Hana’s grandfather would play to keep customers entertained, a young Hana would sit next to him, swaying to the music, in complete awe of the sound coming from a few keys.

Her grandfather had taught her how to play, and when he passed away, she stayed far away from the piano — the only thing connecting her to him.

But when Hongjoong had come into her life, she started playing again — with him next to her, writing music — together.

Areum was colouring at the corner table. Hongjoong was sitting opposite her, helping her sound out syllables on a picture card.

Hana watched them for a long time smiling before pressing down a key.

C. Then A. Then G.

Hongjoong looked up, startled. She hadn’t played in years — not in front of him.

But she held his gaze, hands still on the keys, as she played a piece they had written together when they both dreamed of music.

Hongjoong smiled softly, memories flooding back as he watched her play expertly. Areum clapped happily, instantly distracted from her colouring as she turned to watch her mother play.

And in that moment, when she finished the piece, Hana let the silence say what she couldn’t.

Maybe.

---

Later that night, as she tucked Areum into bed, her daughter whispered:

“Is the music man gonna stay?”

Hana’s voice caught in her throat. “Do you want him to?”

Areum nodded. “He makes the world feel… bigger.”

Hana leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Then we’ll make room.”

Hana went into her bedroom and picked up her phone, her finger hovering over his name as she bit her lip.

She had decided this may be the right time — Hongjoong was leaving soon.

When he answered, he sounded relaxed, but tired.

“Hey,”

“Hey,” she repeated. There was a moment of comfortable silence between them before either spoke up.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She hummed in affirmation, “Joong, I’m thinking of telling Areum.”

“Telling her what?”

She laid back against the headboard of her bed, trying to calm her thumping heart. “The truth. That you aren’t just my friend. That you are her father.”

Hana heard Hongjoong inhale, and shuffle on his end. “Really?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. This was big — whenever Areum asked about her father, Hana would tell her that he was working far away, and the child would never probe further. But it was obvious to Hana that she always wanted to meet her father — other kids at her school had their fathers, and she didn’t.

“I want her to know the real you, the you I know,” she admitted. “I want her to call you dad; I want you to feel the same as I do when she looks at me in adoration. You deserve it too.”

Hana didn’t need to see, the sound of his voice made evident he was smiling. “I would be so happy for her to call me dad. Thank you, Hana.”

“Please don’t thank me, you deserve this, Joong. I’m… so sorry.”

A moment passed, “for what?”

“For not telling you, for you finding out about your daughter by chance. I regret my choice to not tell you every day,” Hana swallowed the tears down, eyes stinging, years of emotion threatening to spill.

Hongjoong, as he always had done, responded calmly. Ever the peacekeeper, ever the rational person he was known to be. “You don’t need to apologise Hana; I can see in your eyes every time I see you how sorry you are. I’ve long forgiven you. But I’m here now, and so is Areum. I’m happy I get this now, and I’ve come to terms with that.”

She tried to contain the sob, but a stray tear fell.

“I’m sorry for not staying in contact. Life had been… hectic. Training and debuting were intense. I didn’t want to let you down, and I knew you’d worry if you heard me so dejected at times. It’s my dream, but I also left a part of that dream behind.” Hongjoong confessed, voice soft.

“Th-thank you,” Hana smiled sadly, “I’m so glad you accidentally walked into the café.”

He huffed a laugh, “habit, I suppose.”

“Well, I’m glad your habits are still there,” she giggled. “Joong, let’s tell her tomorrow—together.”

“As long as you are happy for me to be there.”

“A hundred percent positive.”

“Tomorrow it is then.”

Tomorrow, Hongjoong won’t be a friend anymore, he’ll finally be a father.

#hongjoong #ao3 fic #hongjoong ateez #ateez #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x oc #ateez fic #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #kpop fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #idol fic #hongjoong fic #hongjoong fluff #kpop idols #kpop #idol!hongjoong

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whisper-my-serenade · 2 years ago

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wayward son

a theoretical todd anderson origin story

word count: 5937

cw: non-consensual kissing, f-slur, period-accurate homophobia

Todd sat himself at the top of the staircase, careful not to make a sound lest his parents hear around the corner. They spoke in hushed, angered tones; they spat his name like that of a plague. It was as if he was a misbehaving dog that they couldn’t put down, but some other form of containment had to be found. In that moment, he might have preferred if they just shot him Old Yeller-style.

“Aren’t there religious places we can send him? Places that are equipped to deal with things like this?” his father was saying, exasperated.

“No, no, everyone knows those don’t work. Besides, people would ask too many questions about where he’s gone,” his mother huffed. He thought it surprising that she was against a religious school, seeing as she was the one who dragged them all to church every Sunday.

His father sighed, the heavy, long thing that Todd knew he did as a quiet way of telling people to shut up and do whatever he said. “We’re running out of options, Lorraine. We need somewhere that will keep him in line. A military school, maybe?”

“Ha!” his mother cracked. “Could you imagine? He’d be crushed like a bug.”

There was a stiff moment of silence. Todd could feel the heavy, humid summer air creep through the open windows.

“Why don’t we just send him to Welton?” his mother suddenly replied, and Todd inhaled sharply, almost breaking his silence with a yelp. Please, anywhere but there.

“You can’t be serious,” his father retorted. “After what he’s done? You remember why we didn’t send him there in the first place, don’t you?”

“There’s no better place to get him in line and make sure he gives our family a good name. That’s what that school was made for. Besides, his grades are up enough, I think.”

“I don’t know. He’s not really the Welton type, is he?”

“Do you have any better ideas, Robert?”

Todd waited for the reply with bated breath. Even then he could feel his future being determined right in front of him.

“Oh, I suppose not. It’s as good a school as any.”

☽ ☼ ☾

Todd Anderson was, at Balincrest, a leper. He was quiet, anxious, had a bad stutter and some awkward nervous ticks that made the other boys call him names usually reserved for asylum patients. But Todd was not a fun target—he had something most other boys his age lacked, that being the emotional maturity to know when to not rise to the bait—and for the most part he was left on his own, reading his infinite novels in some dark hovel and completing his schoolwork silent and alone in a corner of the common room. The teasing, when it did come about, didn’t bother him much because he was as aware of his faults as anyone and no one could punish him for them as he already punished himself. For some reason, though, the one that got to him the most was ‘mute’. It was not that he couldn’t talk, it was that there was no one in the world he felt he could talk with.

Ever since he was a small child, people had very few good things to say about Todd. With his parents, it was always some form of inferiority to his brother, a high cliff of a standard he could never quite climb to the top of. Gone were the days of the two boys dressed in matching outfits, playing games of knights and dragons in their grandparent’s sprawling backyard; now it was only Jeffrey did this and you didn’t. Going to different schools meant Todd only saw glimpses of his brother in the summer, when his primary job was staying out of his family’s hair. Todd didn’t know what Jeff thought about the matter. He also didn’t care.

Todd never particularly excelled in school, either. He was shown to be reasonably bright in class, and was always reading far above his grade level, but his test scores were horrendous, and, worse yet, he failed every presentation he was ever assigned because he simply could not do them. His throat would close up, lungs gasping for air he seemingly could not find, and his mind spun recklessly out of control, trapping him in a distant subconscious where he could not be reached for anywhere from twenty minutes to an hour. To his parents, the attacks were another form of embarrassment. Not only was Todd not as smart or socially skilled as his brother, he was also mentally diseased. When he was a child, he’d often sought the comfort of his parents when his mind slipped away from him. But he was sixteen now, and knew better. The Andersons always chose to suffer alone.

That wasn’t to say he had no skills whatsoever. In his younger years he wrote wildly imaginative stories, taking bits and pieces of all the children’s fiction he read to create new worlds of his own to escape to. He wrote little now, burnt out from years of essay writing, but still read ferociously all manner of literature, from low-brow science fiction to the most classical of poets. And, if nothing else, he was quite a good soccer player.

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the game—far from it—he just happened to have the skill and anger needed to push his way to the top. Of all the nicknames he was called, no one ever called him sensitive, because he could kick circles around any other player at the school and glare at them like an angry watchdog as he did it. It was a way of release, maybe, but an unfortunate one, because if Todd hated anything, it was having eyes on him.

Which is why when he ended up on Balincrest’s varsity team his sophomore year (the only one, at that), it filled him with such immense dread that the school nurse thought he’d caught the flu. His first day in that locker room, suddenly surrounded by burly, sweaty upperclassmen who joked about shotgunning beers and assaulting women (another area where Todd lacked expertise), was one of the most unpleasant experiences of his life, and when the coach asked if someone would volunteer to spend a few minutes after practice packing up the equipment, Todd leapt at the chance. Anything to get out of that humid, musky room for a few minutes longer. Too many eyes.

☽ ☼ ☾

Todd had never spoken to Isaac Parker in his life. Isaac was junior, handsome, with golden blonde hair and warm hazel eyes that had the unique ability to convince girls that he was somehow different from every other reckless, immature teenage boy that tried to wiggle their way into their hearts (and skirts). He was also a favorite among the staff, but in that friendly, charismatic way that kept the name “teacher’s pet” off his back. Everyone knew he was destined to be the soccer team captain his senior year, because God had never made anyone else so perfectly for the job. The sun smiled upon this boy.

It was a spring evening, one of the first warm ones after a brutal northeast winter, that their paths first crossed. Practice was wrapping up, and Todd was skirting off to the side of the field to begin his now usual job of cleaning up when, from over the field, he heard Isaac’s melodic voice joking with the coach and a word of thanks for his help in response. Suddenly, Todd was not alone with his stack of cones. Golden boy Isaac was there, too, an Apollo next to a cowardly mortal.

Balincrest’s sports equipment shed was a small thing with a corrugated metal roof that pinged like a glockenspiel when it rained and had bits of chipped-off white paint lining the ground underneath it. Inside, it smelled of wet wood and stale sweat and was barely large enough to accommodate more than one person. The boys worked wordlessly stringing the practice equipment to the walls, the close confines meaning Todd was cautious with his every step so as not to draw the attention of the leader. The single bare lightbulb above them flickered as a moth wove its way around and around.

Todd was suddenly aware of the stillness behind him, and when he finished his job and turned around, he found Isaac staring at him with an unreadable expression. Todd suddenly felt an immense weight in his chest, a giant, red-hot star on the verge of bursting. Before he could even open his mouth to speak, Isaac took both sides of his face in his hands and pressed their lips together.

It was a searing, burning feeling. Isaac’s hands and mouth were hot and slick, their noses crashing together as Todd tried and failed to stumble backwards, caught by surprise. Isaac held him there for an unbearable moment before releasing, keeping his eyes closed for a second longer as if reveling in the feeling. Suddenly they burst open, and in the dim glow of the bulb, looked black and full of rage. Todd’s own eyes were stuck wide, breath frozen in his throat.

The silence was deafening. Isaac suddenly crowded him up against the wall of the shed, burning fingerprints into his arm as a stern hand pointed into his face. “You say a word, you’re dead, got it?”

Todd nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

☽ ☼ ☾

After Isaac left Todd with his mouth gaping in the shed, he apparently didn’t go back to the locker room, which Todd was unbelievably thankful for. There was an uncomfortable stillness in the empty room, and Todd felt like he had to constantly keep moving as he showered just to break the sensation. He watched the water wash away all the sweat and memories of touch from his body—the pink bruises forming on his arm, the gently protruding lines of his ribs, the soft, unaltered beating of his heart underneath them. He suddenly smashed the porcelain tile of the shower with his fist, leaning his head into his arms as hot tears began to well in his eyes.

It had been his first kiss. He might have been ashamed if there was anyone to ask him about it, but it wasn’t really that fact that made the embarrassment burn so hot in his chest so much as the fact that it had been a boy. And he hadn’t hated it, not like he should have.

His mother liked to say he was a ‘late bloomer’ and he would find his way into the arms of the fairer sex one of these days, but Todd knew well and good that he’d grown up faster than most and that girls did absolutely nothing for him. It wasn’t that he didn’t have “urges”—he, like nearly every other teenage boy, had his moments in the quiet of his bedroom or the roar of a shower—but he could never picture the face of another person in those moments, only the vague outlines of strong, square bodies and the calloused touch of large hands. If there was a word for this, he did not know it. Or maybe he did, and his mind just refused to connect them.

He knew what he ought to do: go straight to the coach or the dean and declare what had happened to him, denounce Isaac’s actions with all the fervor and rage he deserved. It was violating, dehumanizing, and, in the eyes of the general public, outright wrong. Todd had done nothing.

And yet a small voice tugged in the back of his head, asking the same question over and over. Why me? Had Isaac picked his target at random? Did he calculate his odds and decide Todd was the least likely to speak out? Did he just assume that because he was younger, he would be easier to push around and bully into silence?

Or could Isaac tell, in the deep, shameful way that social pariahs connected with each other? Was it something Todd had done that had given it away? How he sat with his legs crossed, like his father scolded him for? The books he read? The names he was called? His incessant loneliness? If he were to tell someone, would they know it, too?

Todd turned off the shower and held still for a moment, letting the water pool and drip off his limbs. He wouldn’t say anything—couldn’t. He couldn’t bear the shame of it, if word got out. He didn’t care for faggot and fairy to be added to the list of things he was called. And what would his parents say? The Andersons could never have a queer for a son. It was bad enough that he liked to read.

There were different levels of leprosy at Balincrest: those that got you teased, and those that got you killed. Given the option, Todd would choose to stay in his current group, thank you very much.

☽ ☼ ☾

The next time it happened, Isaac didn’t say anything. It lasted longer, a tongue poking out and searching for leverage, but finding none. Todd inhaled the scent of sweet, fresh sweat mixed with cologne, his lips fighting the urge to give in and see what he could get out of this. It was not a mutual relationship. It was not.

He walked back to his dorm that night to the abject chatter of lonely crickets from the woods, the spring moon high and gleaming above him. His heart was still pounding and his skin felt cold where Isaac’s fingers had gripped it. Todd didn’t think he’d ever been held so firmly.

There was a part of him that was almost thrilled by it. There was no denying that Isaac had good looks and a movie-star charm, and if Todd had been a girl, he would surely be internally gloating for winning the boy’s affections above all the others. For all the times he’d seen his brother down far too much liquor or try to sneak a girl in through his bedroom window and never understood the appeal of the risk, Todd now felt he understood why teenagers pushed boundaries the way they did—there was adrenaline in it, a high that came with getting away with something. He’d never before had the chance to kiss a boy, and probably never would again. His father might call it “getting it out of his system”, as he did with Jeffrey’s various misdemeanors. And if it was to forever remain his dirty little secret, then so be it. Surely there were far worse things.

☽ ☼ ☾

The longer it went on, the more routine it became. They put the equipment away in silence, not touching or looking at each other, and then Isaac would go still, and Todd would take it as his que to turn around and allow himself to be grabbed and pushed however Isaac wanted him. They would kiss for a few minutes (maybe longer, maybe shorter; Todd discovered that one lost a sense of time when doing a thing like that) and then Isaac would release him, avoiding his gaze, and flee the scene of the crime. Todd would leave a few moments later, shower, and gaze at the moon as he walked back to the dorms.

☽ ☼ ☾

The end came on a hot May day, the air still steamy even as the sun lowered in the horizon and sent beautiful orange beams across the brick walls of Balincrest. Campus was filled with the inspirited feeling of summer closing in around them, and the boys grew restless as the last agonizing weeks of school crept by. The soccer team played their best season in years that year, with Isaac as the star of the show and Todd as the overlooked secret weapon. Todd discretely smiled to himself when the coach told him it was a role he played well.

It was one of the final practices of the season, and Todd almost dreaded it being over. There was a part of him that enjoyed being someone’s secret, and now the normal loneliness that came with being in his empty house all summer came with the added notion that he was losing his source of romantic gratification as well, as little romance as there was involved. He would miss the smell of the boy so close to him, the firm touch of his hands, the furtive glances Isaac would throw him when he thought no one else was looking. But Todd would get used to the loneliness, as he always had. And summer would end, as all things did, and Todd and Isaac would enter each other’s orbits once again.

After practice was over, they went quickly to their usual routine. Maybe the approaching vacation was affecting Isaac, too, because he seemed rougher, pinning Todd a little tighter to the wall and parting his lips with a little more force. It was sloppy and quick, as if time was running out.

It took a moment for them to react when the door of the shed opened, but when they did, the effect was immediate and brutal. Isaac jumped back, shoving at Todd’s shoulder as if to push him away even though Todd was already as close to the wall as he could get. “Get off me, fag!” he shouted, his melodic voice unfamiliar in such harsh words. Todd seemed unable to speak, turning towards the stunned coach in the doorway and hoping his shocked, pained face spoke for him. He lies. I didn’t ask for this.

☽ ☼ ☾

Todd watched Isaac’s parents approach the building from where he’d been locked in the infirmary all night. Their parents couldn’t come in for a meeting so late in the evening, but it was decided that the boys could not be trusted amongst the general population of the school, so they were sequestered at opposite ends of the building with only the occasional staff member for company. Both the dinner and breakfast that had been brought for him lay untouched on their trays. He’d been far too sick that night to eat.

He sank away from the window before he could see his own parents walk up, and counted the seconds between his breaths to fill the time until someone came to guide him to the dean’s office. It was an old trick some childhood doctor had taught him in a fruitless attempt to ease his anxious mind, but if nothing else it was good for giving him something to focus on until the worst of the misery was over. In-1-2-3-4-5. Out-1-2-3-4-5.

“Todd?” the nurse’s fluttery voice rang as the door to the informatory opened with a creak. Todd startled, tripping over his chair to stand and follow her down the quiet stone corridor. As they walked, she kept turning to him with her mouth opening and closing like a fish, as if she had something she wanted to say but couldn’t quite figure out how to word it. That made two of them.

Todd had never been to the dean’s office, but his mind was incapable of taking in the details of the room as his sight narrowed in on the stern faces of his parents waiting for him. Isaac had beaten him there, sat next to his own mother and father on the far side of the room, gaze turned firmly down. Todd stood in the doorway for a moment, daring him to look up, before a hand forced his shoulder down into the chair that awaited him.

The dean was a relatively young man, maybe in his mid-forties, with a clean-shaven face and sharply receding hairline that his horn-rimmed glasses did nothing to conceal. The soccer coach stood behind him, deep sadness on his face as he met Todd’s eye. He was probably as disappointed with this whole situation as anyone.

“Well, now that we’re all here, I suppose there’s no point in beating around the bush about the purpose of this meeting. I was told you were all briefed on the situation last night?” The dean asked, nodding towards the two sets of parents in front of him.

“Yes,” came a small chorus, only Todd’s mother turning to look disapprovingly at her son.

“Good,” the dean replied, pushing his glasses up on his nose as was his habit. He folded his hands and placed them on his impossibly tidy desk. “Now, we here at Balincrest of course do not in any way approve of such behaviors among our students, but I think you would all agree with me in saying that it’s in the best interest of all for this matter to stay strictly confidential.”

Four heads nodded.

“We wouldn’t want this to become a scandal even within the student body, because things get leaked and the like, so we need to forge a path forward that results in adequate discipline while also keeping gossip to a minimum.”

Todd deeply wished that his mother would stop staring at him with her piercing blue eyes. Her gaze pierced his skin and made him feel like salty sea water was flowing through him instead of blood. He tried to focus on the dean’s words, but could feel the panic rising in his stomach.

“I think it’s perfectly reasonable to say that it’s not sensible for the both of you to stay at this school,” the dean went on, glancing between Todd and Isaac, only one of whom was actually looking at him in return. “I’m not at liberty to say whether one or both of you were truly at fault for what happened here, but I can assure you that this matter will not end up on your permanent record regardless of what path we decide upon.” The dean directed his gaze at the crown of Isaac’s lowered head. “Now, Mr. Parker, I know the stakes are pretty high for you. Next year’s soccer captain, a chance at valedictorian, a full ride to Duke, I hear…”

Todd’s father now also turned to him, indignation on his face, and Todd suddenly understood what was going to happen. He would be expelled from Balincrest (not in so many words, of course) not because it was his fault, but simply because Isaac had more to lose. Balincrest could handle losing a mute leper with no connections, but could not handle losing its golden boy. He also realized in that moment that nothing he could possibly say mattered anymore. Any chance he had at redemption was lost when he did not fess up after the first incident.

The adults kept talking, Isaac’s mother even jumping in in defense of her son, but Todd had stopped listening. He’d never felt so small, so useless, such a burden on everyone else around him. He was a fool for thinking this would never come back to bite him—his ability to be invisible only lasted as long as his ability to keep his head down. No wonder his parents couldn’t seem to stand being around him: he was too dumb to even get away with the smallest of infractions. Jeffrey had the charisma to make his misbehavior seem natural, fun, misguided but ultimately entertaining. Todd was not charming enough to get away with anything, not smart enough to choose a fault that was not so taboo, not wise enough to keep from being a stain upon his family’s good reputation. He would be, from that day forth, forever marked by them as a mistake, a printing error on the Anderson family tree, a pariah, a leper. Ghosts, though invisible, were difficult to forget.

☽ ☼ ☾

Todd’s mother came into his room without knocking to get his laundry, though he’d been home for only a few hours. She couldn’t stand a single inch of the house to be untidy.

Todd was curled on his bed with his old beat-up copy of The Secret Garden, wishing the story could whip him away to a magical alternate universe as it had when he was a child. But if that day had proved anything, it was that his youth was gone from him without him even knowing it had slipped away. Welton. Fuck’s sake.

The long car ride home had been predictably tense. The first thing his parents were upset about was that he’d forced them to rearrange their schedules—his father missed an important horse race he had bets on (those bets turned out to be fruitful, but that didn’t matter), and his mother was meant to attend a vital meeting of their church’s women’s council that she’d now have to ask Evelyn Peterson for the notes from, and you know how I despise that woman. Next they were distraught over the fact that he’d been kicked out of Balincrest, which was such a wonderful school and they’d worked so hard to get him accepted there despite his shortcomings and now they’d have to get another place to take him that would be father away and more expensive and why couldn’t he just be good like Jeffrey?

For the longest time, they carefully avoided the reason why he’d been forced to leave, and he could mostly tune their chatter out because it was less about scolding him and more about hearing themselves talk. Eventually, though, their words started sticking out in his brain and he couldn’t help but listen.

“...never imagined that I’d raise a son that would do such a thing,” his mother was saying, obsessively fixing her hair in her small compact mirror despite not a single strand being out of place. “And so shamelessly! I thought I’d taught you better than that.”

His father glanced at him from the rear view mirror. Todd glowered at him in return. “Did you really do it, Todd, or did that older boy rope you into it?”

Todd wasn’t sure how to respond. Either of the black-and-white answers would be a lie, but his parents were notoriously not ones for complexity. He cleared his throat. “I-it was all him.”

“Hmph,” his father huffed, turning his eyes back towards the highway before them. The day was aggressively sunny, and the asphalt shimmered in the light. “I thought as much. He had a guilty look about him, that one.”

Todd said nothing.

“But you know that’s how the habit starts, isn’t it? Someone leads you into it and you just get hooked.” His mother suddenly turned to look over into the backseat, waving a nagging finger in his face. “And you listen to me now, Todd. That kind of thing cannot be tolerated in any decent society. It’s a nasty, unhappy way of life and it’s best to condemn it now before it’s too late to turn back. Do you understand?”

Todd nodded, and it seemed to satisfy her.

“And if anything like this ever happens again,” his father said, his voice growing low and gruff with shame. “We will not hesitate to beat it out of you with any means necessary.”

☽ ☼ ☾

“Todd,” his mother said as she grabbed his abandoned school clothes and folded them before placing them in her basket. “It’s been decided that you’ll go to Welton in the fall.”

She looked at him as if expecting a response, so he shrugged his shoulders. “Okay.”

“This is a very precious opportunity. You cannot afford to waste it.” No, you cannot afford to waste it, he thought.

“Okay,” he said again, and went back to his book.

☽ ☼ ☾

It’s a nasty, unhappy way of life. Those words rang in Todd’s ears as Saratoga Springs, New York entered a steaming hot summer. Todd spent most of his days locked up in his air-conditioned room with his books, the monotony only broken by him sneaking out to get meals, showering before bed, and his weekly excursions to the library to stock up.

While there, he occasionally tried to dig for things that mentioned his condition (he’d decided to call it a condition now—the American Psychological Association deemed it a mental disorder, alongside schizophrenia and social personality disorders, which was what made people psychopaths), but found it difficult to research a subject that seemingly no one wanted to talk about, and God forbid he ask the librarian—she was the one adult he knew that didn’t currently hate him. There was a report from about a decade prior that said homosexuality was far more present in society than most would like to think, and the long, drawn-out trials of a writer arrested for sodomy, but other than that, Todd could find very little that was not about the Bible, and no way in hell was he reading anything about the Bible. He laughed at the thought that it might burn when he touched it.

If he got bored of his books but was too scared to leave the safety of his room, he would stare out the window. It faced their large backyard, and most of the time when he looked out Jeffrey was back there playing soccer with his friends. It was their summer tradition, and Todd remembered the days when his mother would push him out of bed and out the door to “play with them” while she did her weekly top-to-bottom house cleanings. Todd usually ended up half-watching, half focused on his book from the edge of the open grass where they played. The older boys mostly looked upon him with anything from bemusement to outright contempt. No one wanted to be stuck playing with the lame little brother, least of all Jeffrey.

The exception to this was a boy named Christian Woods. Christian went to Welton with Jeff, and Todd knew they went head-to-head in just about everything—academics, sports, girls— and yet despite their competition, they were the best of friends. Christian happened to be a pretty big literature buff, and always had some comment or another about what Todd was reading when the boys stopped playing for a few minutes to cool off and drink Mrs. Anderson’s lemonade. Whatever Todd said in return (often very little), Christian smiled, flicking the cover of the book and telling Todd he had good taste before leaping up and joining his flock again.

Todd used to think about Christian a lot, back when puberty was first hitting him and his body ached with unfamiliarity. Christian’s dark eyes and fluffy walnut hair tended to pop into his head at the most awkward times. Stupid juvenile crush, he told himself now, but the word crush felt odd, even in his head. It wasn’t a crush, that was the thing ditsy girls had when they wished Jimmy would ask them to the prom. No, this was just a symptom of his condition—the one that appeared to be chronic and incurable. He liked to think himself wiser now at sixteen than when he’d been a few years younger, but Christian’s smile still made his heart flutter the tiniest bit. Unhappy. He could see that part.

☽ ☼ ☾

Jeffrey seemed to pop into Todd’s bubble more and more often as the summer went on. It was his last summer home before he started at Harvard in the fall (which their parents never failed to remind them of), and it seemed he finally decided to take an interest in his younger brother before he left for good.

Because Todd had magically been let out of school early, he’d been able to be there for Jeffrey’s graduation from Welton and get a glimpse of his new home for the next two years. He watched as his brother marched across the stage with that despicably fake grin on his face, then zoned out until a point near the end where it was Christian’s footsteps and smile. He shuddered at the thought of it being him up there in front of all those people.

After the painfully long ceremony was over, Jeff walked right up to his family and gave each of them a backbreaking hug. Todd didn’t remember the last time he and Jeffrey had been that close, but however long ago it was, they certainly hadn’t been the same height as they were now. It scared him a little, the unfamiliarity of this creature who shared his blood.

When they’d arrived home, Jeff asked all the usual questions about school and how had summer been and was he excited for Welton and why did they let him leave so early? His mother shot him a furtive glance to warn him not to say too much, but Todd needed no reminder—he wouldn’t let that secret out if they tortured him for it. He shrugged as his only response.

Jeffrey didn’t seem to want to let it go. He knocked on Todd’s door that evening, a piece of Todd’s favorite German chocolate cake in his hand as an excuse, and asked again: why was he home so early?

“Did something bad happen? At school, I mean,” he said as he placed the cake down on Todd’s desk, pushing a stack of books waiting to be returned to the side.

Todd froze. “No,” he replied quickly. “Nothing happened.”

Jeffrey was clearly still suspicious. “No one picked on you there, right? ‘Cause if you were defending yourself—”

Todd cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about it! Nothing happened!”

Jeff seemed startled by the outburst. “Okay,” he said slowly, backing towards the door. “But, just so you know…if you ever need to talk, I’m here, okay?”

“I don’t need to talk.” You’d hate me if you knew, he thought bitterly.

“Okay,” Jeffrey said again, turning to leave. “Oh, and Todd?”

“Yeah?”

“Make sure you take that plate down when Mom’s not around. You know she’ll flip if she finds it up here.”

☽ ☼ ☾

In August, he got the letter.

He’d started venturing out of his cave more and more, often walking to a spot deep in the nearby woods and laying out a blanket on the ground to read. Being around Jeffrey and his loud, laughing friends hurt too much now, especially as he saw his brother’s life slowly packed away, awaiting the coming move. When September came, who would he be? Same old meek Todd, only now the new kid at a school where the other boys had been building relationships for four years and running. A new kind of leper.

He thought of Isaac sometimes, and wondered if he was having as miserable a summer as Todd was. Had he told the same lie to his parents that Todd had, that it was all the other boy’s fault and he wasn’t culpable? Did he play soccer with his friends or lock himself away? Did he feel the same pit of dread in his stomach at the thought of going back to school?

It came in a heavy cream envelope, the paper thick with wealth typical of schools whose pockets were lined by the lower echelons of the upper class. It was the same paper as Balincrest, the same typewriter script, only the stamped school seal at the top was different.

Todd Anderson, read the top line. We are thrilled to have you join us at Welton Academy for the 1959-60 school year.

At the bottom was a school schedule laid out in a neat little table, on the next page was a map of the school and its grounds. The one line that inexplicably stuck out to him was one in the middle of the first page, in plain print.

Room #: 205. Roommate: Neil Perry.

#first reveal of the new and improved dpscu lore #im actually really proud of this ngl but like...not so much of the other chapters so far so idk when/if it'll end up on ao3 #its also kinda hard writing this to be period accurate cause i am not a gay man nor did i live through the 50s but we do what we can #anyways back to your regularly scheduled tags #dps #dead poets society #anderperry #todd anderson #dps fandom #dps fanfiction #should i make a writing tag? that seems like a good idea #phoenix writes :D #my post

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