i love tucker pillsbury so much. like that’s baby. billie eilish. harry styles. malcolm todd. paul dano. jake gyllenhaal. one direction. lizzy mcalpine. djo. the 1975. arctic monkeys. tøp. the bear. cameron winter. geese. call me by your name. lady bird. bob dylan. gracie abrams. jake minch. the backseat lovers. the neighbourhood. del water gap. movie lover and concert goer. talk to me about anything! please.
upcoming shows: jake minch + joshua slone, noah kahan, tame impala + djo, the foo fighters
desc: unfortunately, with fame, came tucker not being the best boyfriend. who’s surprised. you’ve already feared of this happening but you thought that with how good your relationship started, he’d never turn his back on you like this. yet, he comes home every few nights, drunk, and not understanding what he did wrong.
cw: drinking, swearing, pure angst. like seriously i don’t think i wrote anything happy in here.
wc: 1.7k
a/n - we’re so back but this is not cute… sorry not sorry enjoy maybe
————————————————————————————————
he let himself in like he always did. no hesitation. no knock. just the sound of the lock turning and the door shutting behind him a second later, too loud for how late it was.
he stood there for a moment in the hallway like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something first or act like nothing had happened.
he went with nothing.
she didn’t move from the kitchen counter, a half-empty glass of wine on the counter, her robe tied at her waist loosely like she’s been in bed for a while now. “you’re back,” she said.
flat. not emotional. just fact.
he glanced at her, then away again, already reaching for the fridge. “yeah.” he opened it then closed it. it’s not like anything in there interested him anyway.
“you’re drunk,” she added.
“i’m fine,” he said automatically.
that was enough to start it.
she exhaled through her nose. “stop fucking saying that. it doesn’t change what i’m looking at.”
he finally looked at her properly then. “what, are you counting drinks now?”
“don’t do that.”
“do what?”
“turn it into something dumb so you don’t have to give a serious answer.”
a beat.
he set his hand on the counter, leaning into it slightly. not aggressive. just there. occupying space like it was the easiest thing in the world.
“i didn’t come here for this,” he said.
“you never fucking come here for anything!” she shot back before she could stop herself.
that landed. she saw it land when his jaw tightened just a little.
“i came here because you asked me to,” he said.
“no,” she said. “you came here because you had nowhere else to go tonight. and this is our goddamn apartment. you’re never here. what am i supposed to do?”
silence.
then, a short laugh from him. no humour in it. “that’s what this is now?”
“tell me what it is then?”
he pushed off the counter just slightly, standing straighter. too straight. “i don’t know what you want me to say,” he said almost lazily.
“that’s not an excuse. stop saying that,” she cut in.
“because it’s true.”
“it’s not an answer!”
“it’s the only one i’ve got right now.”
he said it like that should end it. like that should make her step back. it didn’t.
instead, something in him shifted — not instantly explosive, but sharper, like the patience had already been worn thin long before he walked through the door.
he straightened again, jaw tightening, eyes locked on her now in a way that wasn’t wandering anymore. “no,” he said. just that. cold.
she blinked. “what?”
he let out a short laugh, but this one had an edge to it. “don’t do that. don’t stand there like i’m supposed to just—what—perform answers for you at two in the morning.”
“i’m not asking you to perform anything,” she said immediately. “i’m asking you to talk like a normal person for once.”
“a normal person,” he repeated, like he was testing how ridiculous it sounded on his tongue.
she didn’t move, didn’t give him anything to bounce off of. that made him even more irritated for whatever reason.
he pushed off the counter fully now, stepping away from it like he couldn’t stand being anchored to anything in the room. “you want normal?” he said, voice rising. “you think this is about me not knowing how to talk?”
“it’s about you never being here,” she said immediately.
“i’m here now,” he snapped.
“after days.”
“so what do you want, a schedule?” he shot back. “you want me to clock in? check in? what, do i need permission now?”
“don’t be dramatic,” she said, but her voice was tighter now.
that made him stop pacing just long enough to look at her properly again.
“i’m being dramatic?” he said, colder. “you’re standing there acting like i’ve been gone on purpose to punish you!”
“you disappear and come back drunk like nothing matters,” she said, voice rising now to match his. “you’re slurring and i’m supposed to just—what—be fine with it?”
“i didn’t ask you to be fine with it,” he said. “i didn’t ask you to be anything.”
that landed differently.
worse.
her face changed first. not anger now, something thinner underneath it.
but he didn’t stop. he was already in it. already too far past where he should’ve stopped.
“you know what this is?” he said, pointing vaguely between them. not at her. not exactly. just the space. “this you deciding what i’m supposed to be when i’m not even here half the time. you’re trying to fucking hold me back.”
“that’s not what i’m doing.” she adds on almost weakly.
“it is,” he cuts in, not letting her say more. “you want me here but only if i’m here the way you want me to be.”
she let out a short, disbelieving laugh. “i want you here sober enough to have a conversation.”
that hit something raw.
his expression twisted slightly — not hurt exactly, but something defensive and personal.
“don’t talk to me like i’m a problem you’re managing,” he said.
“then stop acting like one,” she shot back.
silence. then he stepped forward again. closer this time. not slow. not controlled. just movement driven by something uglier than either of them wanted to admit.
he was too tall in the space again, and she hated that her body registered it before her mind did. hated that her breathing shifted before she even decided to react.
but she didn’t step back.
“you always do this,” she said, voice lower now. “you get like this, and you just—take up the whole room like it’s supposed to make you right.”
his eyes flashed. “i’m not doing anything,” he said.
“you are right now,” she said, firmer now. “you’re doing it right now.” she could be manic at this point.
“you think you can talk down to me because you’re sitting here waiting for me to be better than whatever version of me shows up?” he said, voice louder now. “that’s not how this works.”
“i’m not waiting for you to be better,” she said, and her voice cracked slightly on the edge of it. just barely. “i’m waiting for you to be consistent.”
he scoffed. “i’m not a fucking routine.”
“no,” she said, and now her eyes were glassy, but she didn’t stop. “you’re just chaos when it suits you and distance when it doesn’t. i don’t know what the fuck happened to you, tucker! you’re not the same person i started dating!”
that stopped him. just for a beat. then it came back sharper.
“you don’t get to say that,” he said.
“why not?” she asked immediately, and now there was something breaking in her tone too. “because it’s true?”
he stared at her, and for a second, it looked like he might actually say something real. instead, he shook his head once, hard.
“you know what your problem is?” he said.
she didn’t answer.
“you act like you’re the only one getting hurt,” he continued. “like i don’t come back here and deal with you looking at me like i’m something you regret letting in.”
that made her go still. not because it was fair—because it wasn’t. and he knew it. but since he’s him, he continues.
“you don’t even like me half the time i’m here,” he said, voice rising again. “you just like the idea of me when i’m not around to mess anything up.”
her breath shook just slightly. “don’t,” she said.
but it wasn’t strong enough and he saw it.
and instead of stopping, he doubled down like he couldn’t help it.
“what, am i supposed to feel bad for showing up like this?” he said. “this is what i am when i’m not on some schedule you made up in your head.”
“i didn’t make anything up,” she said, but it came out smaller now. more fragile.
he laughed again, but it was ugly now. “you did. you built this whole thing where i’m supposed to be here and not be me at the same time.”
that did it.
her face tightened, and she looked away for half a second like she needed air more than she needed to win anything.
when she looked back, her eyes were wet.
that changed the room instantly. even he froze slightly. but neither of them backed down yet because they’re one hell of a stubborn couple.
“you’re not even listening to yourself,” she said quietly now, voice shaking but steady enough to land. “you come in here, you blow everything up, and then you act like i caused it because i reacted.”
his mouth opened, then closed. for the first time, there was no immediate comeback.
she wiped under her eye quickly, annoyed at herself more than him. “you leave,” she said, softer now but sharper in meaning. “and you come back like it resets everything. and it doesn’t. it never does. it just keeps—”
she stopped. because she couldn’t finish it without breaking.
he looked at her then. and the anger didn’t disappear, but it lost something underneath it. like he was finally seeing the cost of it instead of just the heat of it.
“i don’t know how to stop doing it,” he said, quieter now.
not an excuse. just a fact that made everything worse.
she let out a breath that almost turned into a laugh, but didn’t. “yeah,” she said, voice barely holding. “i know.”
a long silence followed. not peaceful at all, no. heavy, for sure.
he ran a hand over his face, dragging it down like he was trying to reset himself physically. when he spoke again, it was lower. less sharp. “i didn’t mean—” he started.
then stopped. because that wasn’t enough. and he knew it.
she nodded slightly anyway, like she understood what he couldn’t finish. but she didn’t soften fully.
because understanding wasn’t the same as surviving it.
and they both knew, standing there in the middle of the apartment they kept ruining in different ways, that this wasn’t the first time it had ended like this.
“i hope you’re sober enough to remember this in the morning, tucker. goodnight.”
DOES LOVE COME AROUND OR DOES ONE COME AROUND TO IT? 𝜗ৎ chuck timely
masterlist! taglist!
i need some high hopes lord knows i could use em!
long story short: chuck never gets laid. something about his personality made him “unlovable” or maybe it was the fact he’s always hungover, or that he’s always late, or that he’s really broke. one of those, probably.
one fateful day, you ended up at joys automobile, god knows what was wrong with your car. greeting you, was no other than mr chuck timely. you’d never met, but obviously you’ve heard stories. he greeted you with a big buck tooth smile, “chuck,” he said shaking your hand “what’s wrong with your car?” you explained to him, even though you didn’t really know what was up,
you sat in the lobby for a couple hours while he worked, honestly you didn’t know what was so bad about him. he was kinda charming? he’d pop out every so often to come say hi and update you on the status of your car. he comes back out a final time to tell you it’s finished, you thank him and pay but inside you’re kind of upset to say goodbye to him. that is until you get in a car and see a paper tucked in the cup holder. you unfold it, “316-348-4313 call me :)” oh my god. none of your friends could know about this, or they would be so dissapointed. chuck timely of all people.
you were knocking on the door of a small, rustic house the following night. he answers and greets you with a hug. “well are you gonna come in?” he jokes. he was honestly a really nice guy when you got to know him! you’d returned home satisfied that night, he wasn’t that bad in bed either.
but he still had the question: does love come around or does one come around to it?
AN: HEYY!! short little fic because i am so up i love you chuck timely
desc: joe’s still stuck on you. i mean, how could he not when you keep calling him and complaining about how your boyfriend is a shit show. he knows he could love you better, and you’ve even said so yourself. yet, you love to act clueless about that when you see him act the tiniest bit of jealous
cw: drinking + driving slightly under the influence (don’t do this at all he was just needy), some sexual content (kissing, innuendo, but no smut), some angst, smoking — not proof read!
wc: 3.8k
a/n - i haven’t written in so long and this like is ass + i missed out on so much i wanted to add and i just realized that now but i have too many exams coming up
————————————————————————————————
the city always looked a little unreal from this high up.
all glass and light and blurry yellow taxis, reflections smeared across the windows from inside the penthouse suite. somebody near the kitchen laughed too loud over the music, and somewhere behind you, a camera flashed.
you adjusted the strap of your bag higher onto your shoulder, already regretting coming.
“you okay?”
your boyfriend’s hand brushed your lower back for half a second before disappearing again, attention pulled somewhere over your shoulder. some producer. some actor. some person more important than the answer.
there was no reason for him to check in on you anyway.
“yeah,” you said anyway.
he nodded distractedly, arms length away from you. “i’m gonna go say hi to mark. get a drink or something?”
before you could answer, he was already gone. you stared after him for a moment.
“rough start?”
the voice came from your left, amused and warm and entirely too familiar.
your eyes closed briefly before you turned.
joe leaned against the bar like he’d been standing there the whole night waiting for this exact moment. dark jacket, curls messy around his forehead, one hand wrapped around a sweating glass. his gaze moved over you slowly, not inappropriate exactly — just knowing.
somehow it felt worse.
“you’re lurking now?” you asked.
“you walked directly into my line of sight. not my fault.”
“pretty sure that still counts as lurking.”
his mouth twitched. and god, that smile still annoyed you.
“you look nice,” he said after a second, taking a sip of his drink. the compliment landed too naturally. no weirdness or hesitation. like he still had every right to say things like that.
you hated that your stomach reacted anyway. “thank you.”
his eyes flicked past you briefly. “where’s what’s-his-name?”
you snorted softly. “that’s evil.”
“i know his name. i’m choosing not to use it.” he bites the inside of his cheek before taking another sip of his drink.
“very mature.”
“i try.”
you looked around the room again, pretending not to notice how easily the conversation slipped into place. this was the problem with him. no matter how much time passed, talking to joe still felt like stepping into something half-finished. like you’d only paused.
“he went to talk to someone,” you said finally.
joe hummed once, unsurprised. there was a beat. then: “you seem thrilled about it.”
you shot him a look. “don’t start.”
“i didn’t say anything.”
“you were about to.”
“okay,” he admitted. “of course i was about to. how could i not?”
despite yourself, you laughed quietly, his expression softening at the sound.
that was another problem.
joe always looked at you like your reactions mattered. unlike some other unnamed people. like he was paying attention even when he pretended not to be.
you leaned back against the bar beside him. “you’ve been here long?”
“too long. some guy cornered me twenty minutes ago to explain crypto.”
“tragic.”
“i almost killed him.”
“with a cocktail napkin?”
“with my bare hands.” he says with the straightest face.
you smiled into your drink as the bartender slid it toward you.
“still ordering that?” he asked as he noticed.
“what?”
“that drink. jesus christ.”
“what’s wrong with it?”
“it tastes how your lipstick smells.”
“you’re dramatic.”
“you used to make me try it every single time.”
“because you complained every single time!”
“and yet you never listened.”
you looked at him then. really looked at him. even with that shit-ass grin on your face.
he still has the same stupidly pretty face. same easy posture. same soft eyes that managed to catch things before anyone else did. there was a light stubble along his jaw now, rings on his fingers you didn’t recognize.
different enough to remind you time had passed. familiar enough to make it feel meaningless.
his expression shifted slightly under your stare. “what?” he asked.
“nothing.”
“liar.”
before you can answer with something sassy, someone brushed past you hard enough to knock your shoulder. joe’s hand landed on your waist instantly, enough to steady you. definitely just… automatic.
the touch barely lasted a second before both of you seemed to realize it at the same time. his fingers loosened immediately, but not before heat climbed straight up your throat.
“sorry,” he muttered.
you swallowed. “it’s fine.”
except it wasn’t.
because your body still remembered him too well. because he still touched you like he belonged there. because somewhere across the room, your boyfriend laughed loudly without once looking over to see where you’d gone.
of course joe noticed that. his jaw ticked once. “so,” he said casually, staring into his glass, “you gonna spend the whole night babysitting him, or can i steal you for five minutes later?”
you should’ve said no. that would be the smart and normal answer.
instead, you heard yourself say, “depends.”
joe looked unbearably pleased with that. “dangerous response, y/n.”
“don’t make it weird, joe.”
“sweetheart, it’s already weird.”
you rolled your eyes, but he was right.
the worse part was how easy this all felt. standing beside him with the music humming through the walls and people moving around you in blurred expensive outfits, it almost felt every shitty part of the breakup had happened to entirely different people.
almost.
“there you are.” your boyfriend appeared suddenly at your side, one hand brushing your arm absentmindedly. his eyes landed on joe and lit up in recognition. “hey, man.”
joe smiled immediately. polite and effortless. like hasn’t talked shit about him. it irritates you instantly.
“hey.”
“love your stuff,” your boyfriend said, already half distracted again. “we met once, actually. couple years ago?”
“sounds vaguely threatening when you say it like that.” joe says easily, taking a sip of his drink.
your boyfriend laughed. again, joe always did this. made people feel comfortable within seconds. easy smile, easy voice, like he’d known the person for longer than five minutes.
you remembered falling for it too.
“i’m gonna grab another drink from just over there,” your boyfriend said, squeezing your shoulder. “you want anything?”
“i’m okay.”
“cool. back in a sec.”
he disappeared into the crowd. joe watched him go quietly before repeating under his breath, “back in a sec,” he practically scoffed.
you sigh immediately. “joe.”
“what?”
“don’t.”
“i didn’t say anything.”
“you literally did.”
“okay, fine.” he leaned against the bar again. “i just don’t understand why he keeps leaving you alone at parties.”
“i’m not gonna combust because my boyfriend walked away for ten minutes.”
“feels longer than ten.”
you looked at him sharply. his expression stayed casual, but you knew him better than that. knew the specific tightness in his jaw, the way he got quieter when something was actually bothering him.
“you don’t have to do this,” you said.
“do what?”
“the weird jealous ex thing.”
he let out a short laugh. not very amused though. “you think i’m jealous of that guy?”
“joe—”
“i think you deserve someone who notices when you disappear for half an hour.” or call you his fucking ball and chain, he wanted to say.
your chest tightened a little at that. because he was right. yet again. and you hated how badly he himself wanted to be right.
“you don’t know our relationship,” you said finally.
his eyes snapped back to yours then. “now, you don’t do that.” he scoffed.
“do what?”
“act like you haven’t spent the last four months calling me every time he disappoints you.”
“why the fuck are you so loud?” you say almost whispering now even though how loud it is around you, stomach dropped.
“why?” he asked quietly. “am i wrong?”
you stared at him. he stared right back.
“that’s not fair.”
“isn’t it?” his voice stayed calm, which somehow made it worse. “you call me at two in the morning telling me he doesn’t listen to you. that he doesn't ask questions. that you feel lonely standing next to him.” joe shook his head once, like the thought of him treating you like that was actively hurting him, eyes fixed on yours, “then you show up places together and expect me to pretend i don't see it.”
“i never asked you to do anything.”
“you keep leaning on me like i’m still yours.”
the words hit hard enough that you actually went quiet. it was the real thing underneath under all the jokes.
you crossed your arms tightly. “you could’ve stopped answering.”
his expression changed instantly, hurt flickering there before he covered it. “yeah,” he said softly. “i could’ve.”
but really, how could he? how could he turn down any sort of connection with you?
the music around you two suddenly felt too loud. people brushed past laughing, glasses clinking somewhere nearby, and none of it touched the strange heavy silence sitting between you.
you looked away first. “i need air.”
joe didn’t stop you, which somehow annoyed you too.
—
you pushed through the crowd toward the balcony doors, cool air hitting your skin immediately once you stepped outside. the city stretched endlessly below, glowing gold and white beneath the dark sky.
you pulled out your phone.
no texts.
nothing from your boyfriend.
you waited another then minutes before checking again. he must've been wondering where you are now.
still nothing.
your irritation started climbing fast after that.
another twenty minutes passed. half an hour. and still nothing.
inside, the party only got louder. you spotted your boyfriend exactly once across the room laughing with a group of people you didn’t recognize before he disappeared again.
not even a glance toward you.
not even a fucking text.
“there you are.” a voice says, mimicking your boyfriends from earlier.
you didn’t turn around this time.
joe stepped beside you against the balcony railing, cigarette tucked between his fingers though he hadn’t lit it. “you look mean.”
“i am mad right now. so i’m mean.”
“yeah,” he said softly. “i can tell.”
you huffed out a laugh despite yourself, silence settling in shortly after, but easier this time.
“he leave?”
you checked your phone one more time.
nothing.
“apparently. i mean, i have no idea. for all i know.”
joe’s jaw tightened. “fucking unbelievable.”
“you’ve gotta stop…”
“i’m serious.”
“joe—”
“no.” he huffs out a unamused laugh. “who disappears on their girlfriend at party?”
“it’s not a big deal.”
he's really looking at you now. “you say that every time.” the tenderness in his voice nearly undid you.
you swallowed hard and looked away toward the skyline. “i don’t want to argue or fight tonight.”
“i don’t either.”
another pause.
then joe bumped his shoulder lightly against yours. playful but careful. “come on,” he muttered. “ditch this place.”
you laughed softly. “with you?”
“yeah, with me.”
“that sounds like a horrible idea.”
“probably.”
and it was true. joe didn't really have much going for him. sure, he went out with a couple of people after you guys broke up, but nothing really stuck. he cared too much about you, and still does.
sure, you had your boyfriend too, but he's barely a boyfriend. you have had to lean on joe more than you’d like to admit. sneaky little links with him where you’d end up crying about how your boyfriend doesn't truly love you while he’s just had to watch and do nothing.
if anything, now was the time. he knew that much.
you looked down at your phone again. still nothing.
the ache in your chest sharpened suddenly into anger.
at your boyfriend.
at joe for thinking he could just do this.
at yourself for allowing this to happen.
“fine,” you muttered before you could think too hard about it. “but i’m not going back to your place.”
joe went still beside you. slowly, “oh?”
heat climbed your neck immediately.
shit.
you stared out at the city harder. “i just mean—”
“you inviting me to yours?” he teases, voice gone lower now.
you should take it back. quicker than what's happening now if possible. but instead, “only because i don’t feel like being alone tonight.”
joe stared at you for a long second. then he smiled. “yeah,” he said quietly. “okay.” he swallowed harshly, fidgeting with his rings because otherwise his hands would be doing a whole lotta something else.
—
the drive to your apartment felt strangely familiar.
not because you’d done this before exactly, but because being alone with joe at night had once been the most natural thing in the world.
the city blurred past outside the windows while some old rock song by the doors played quietly through the speakers. joe drove with one hand loose against the steering wheel, rings glinting every time streetlights swept across the car.
you kept catching yourself looking at him.
the side of his jaw.
his hands.
the curve of his mouth when he concentrated.
stupid.
you turned toward the window again.
“you’re being weirdly quiet,” joe said after a while.
“maybe i’m regretting this.”
“a little late for that.”
“i can still throw myself out of the car.”
“please don’t. sally,” which was the name of his old truck. yours was harry before you traded it for some shiny new car. “would never be able to forgive me.” he continued.
you laughed under your breath despite yourself.
he glanced over briefly, smiling a little at the sound.
there it was again.
that awful, easy chemistry.
“you know,” joe said casually, eyes back on the road, “i really thought you were gonna marry me once.”
your head snapped toward him. “what?” you say, your voice weaker than you’d like it to be.
“back when we lived in that shitty apartment with the broken sink.”
“joe—” you say for what feels like the trillionth time that night.
“im serious.” his tone stayed light.
you remembered that apartment instantly.
the mattress on the floor.
his guitar against the wall.
one of your lace bras always draped over the corner of a dresser or lampshade.
cheap takeout containers everywhere.
a pair of both of your socks at the end of the bed every night.
him kissing your forehead while making coffee at two in the morning – you were painting, he was writing most of the time.
it hit harder than expected.
“you also thought you were gonna buy a horse,” you muttered.
joe grinned immediately. “still might.”
“you live in los angeles.”
“horses love los angeles.”
“that is objectively not true.”
“wow,” he said softly, amused. “you used to support my dreams.”
you rolled your eyes, but your chest hurt a little.
the car fell quiet again after that when you finally pulled into your building’s underground garage, neither of you moved right away. joe turned the engine off and even more silence rushed in.
you unbuckled first just to break it. “you coming?”
“thought you’d never ask. thought i was gonna have to get on my hands and knees.”
“gross.” you blush either way.
“you invited me home after emotionally devastating me at a party. mixed signals, y'know?"
“i did not emotionally devastate you.”
joe looked at you flatly.
you smiled despite yourself. “okay, maybe a little.”
—
the elevator ride up felt too small.
you stood shoulder to shoulder beneath harsh yellow lighting while the numbers climbed slowly overhead.
two.
three.
four.
joe leaned back against the wall watching you openly now.
“what?” you asked finally.
“nothing.”
“you’re staring.”
“yeah.”
your stomach flipped annoyingly. “you’re annoying.”
“you say that like it stopped you before.”
you looked away quickly after that.
five.
six.
“you know what your problem is?” joe asked suddenly.
“ouch, i thought i was perfect. but, i’m sure you’re gonna tell me.”
“you think if you ignore someone long enough, it disappears.”
“you’re a little too honest right now.” you frowned slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“drank a little too much.” he grimaces just slightly cause he drove here perfectly fine. “you know exactly what’s wrong with your relationship.”
the irritation came back instantly. now he’s drunk and honest? plus, starting an argument after he said he didn't want that.
“and you think you know everything because i vented to you a few times?”
“a few times?” joe laughed softly. “baby, you called me crying from your bathroom three weeks ago.”
your cheeks burned. “you’re so fucking loud. keep your voice down.”
“nobody’s even here. you embarrassed?”
“no, actually, i’m annoyed.”
“at me?”
“at you acting like this.”
the elevator dinged. the doors opened onto your floor.
you stepped out first, already digging through your bag for your keys while joe followed behind more slowly.
“acting like what?” he asked, eyes focused a little too hard on your back profile before focusing again.
you unlocked your apartment harder than necessary. “like i owe you something.”
joe went quiet behind you.
that should’ve warned you.
you pushed the door open and stepped inside, kicking your heels off immediately near the entrance. joe lingered a second before following, eyes moving around the apartment like he was re-learning it.
he’d only been here once before.
back when you first moved in.
before things got messy again.
“nice,” he said quietly.
“don’t change the subject.”
the door clicked shut behind him.
“i’m not saying you owe me anything,” he replied. “i’m saying i’m tired of pretending this doesn’t mean something.”
your heartbeat sped up instantly. you open your mouth to say his mouth in hopes of stopping him from talking but he continues anyway.
“you call me when you’re sad.” his voice stayed calm now. too calm. “you call me when you’re lonely. when you fight with him. when you can’t sleep.” he stepped closer slowly. “then you look at me like i’m insane for thinking maybe some part of you still belongs to me.”
the room suddenly felt too warm. you swallowed hard. “that’s not fair, joe.”
“none of this is fair.”
he was close enough now that you could smell smoke and cologne and something that was just him underneath it all.
familiar enough to ache.
your voice came out quieter. “you don’t get to say things like that.”
joe looked down at you for a long moment. “yeah?” he murmured. “then why’d you bring me here?”
you opened your mouth, but nothing came out. because there wasn’t a good answer.
his eyes dropped briefly to your lips. then back up again. that tiny movement alone nearly ruined you.
“joe.” you said softly. though you weren’t even sure what you meant by it anymore.
a warning?
a plea?
just his name?
all of the above?
his hand brushed your waist carefully, like he was giving you time to stop him.
you didn’t.
and that seemed to break the last bit of restraint he had left.
joe kissed you suddenly and deep enough to steal the breath straight to your lungs. like he’d been holding it in for months.
his hand tightened against your waist immediately, pulling you into him while your fingers grabbed instinctively at the front of his jacket. the kissed turned messy almost instantly – familiar in the most dangerous way, all heat and frustration and want.
the second you kissed him back, joe made this quiet sound against your mouth like relief mixed with frustration. after all, he’d been waiting for this longer than he wanted to admit.
his hand slid from your waist to your jaw, thumb pressing lightly beneath it as he kissed you deeper, slower now, like he was trying to remember every part of you all over again.
or maybe prove he never forgot.
your back hit the wall near the entryway softly but neither of you acknowledged it.
“fuck,” joe murmured against your lips, almost laughing once after. “this is such a bad idea.”
“you’re the one kissing me.”
“you invited me upstairs.”
“you followed.”
“obviously i followed you.”
despite everything, you smiled against his mouth.
he paused for half a second before kissing you again. like that tiny expression from you was enough to undo him.
his fingers slipped into your hair, careful at first before tightening slightly when you pulled him closer by the front of his shirt. the tension between you felt months old. maybe years.
every unfinished conversation.
every late-night phone call.
every almost-confession.
all of it is sitting here right now.
your breathing turned uneven when he mouth moved briefly to your jaw.
“joe,” you whispered.
“hm?” he hums, distracted.
“this doesn’t fix anything.”
“i know.”
another kiss. slower this time.
“still wanna do it though.”
you let out a quiet laugh that disappeared into a shaky breath when his lips brushed your neck.
there he was.
that dangerous combination of playful and devastating.
his hands settled back at your hips, pulling you flush against him while he kissed just beneath your ear. your fingers curled tighter into his shirt automatically.
it felt too easy to fal back into this.
joe pulled back just enough to look at you, curls falling slightly into his eyes now.
“tell me to stop.”
you stared at him. really stared at him. and his expression wasn’t smug anymore. wasn’t teasing.
just open in a way that made your chest ache.
because underneath all the jealousy and sharp comments and tension, joe had always loved you very honestly. you could see it all over his face.
your hand lifted before you could think better of it, brushing hair back from his forehead gently.
“that’s not stopping me,” he said quietly.
“i know.”
he leaned into your touch for half a second. then his mouth found yours again before either of you could say something too real.
the kiss deepened quickly after that. less hesitant now.
your hands slid beneath his jacket, fingers brushing the fabric of his shirt underneath while joe’s grip tightened at your waist like he physically couldn’t keep you close enough.
he kissed like he talked when emotions got too big — messy, sincere, a little overwhelming.
you felt him smile briefly against your mouth when you tugged him closer again.
“missed that,” he admitted softly.
your stomach flipped hard. “don’t say things like that.”
“why?”
“because.”
“great argument.”
you rolled your eyes weakly, and joe laughed quietly before kissing you again.
your apartment was dim except for the city light spilling through the windows, painting soft gold across his face every time you looked at him. his rings brushed your skin when his hand slid beneath the hem of your shirt slightly, warm fingertips pressing against your waist.
it’s like he’s questioning. giving you room to stop this. you should. instead you pulled him back in again.
joe exhaled sharply through his nose at that, forehead dropping briefly against yours. “you’re killing me,” he muttered.
“dramatic.”
“you used to like that about me.”
“used to?”
his eyes lifted immediately at that. the tension shifted again. less teasing now. something heavier underneath it.
“careful,” joe murmured softly. “you say shit like that and i start getting hopeful.”
⋆.˚✮ summary: ever since frank langdon has been divorced, he can't afford his own apartment, but he can afford a nice hotel. and it just so happens to be the same one that y/n l/n is staying at during her tour at pittsburgh, and his room just happens to be next to hers. what happens when their paths cross?
⋆.˚✮ pairing: frank langdon x popstar!reader (fc: sabrina carpenter sometimes)
MELS MY ANGEL MY BABY HAPPY FREAKING BIRTHDAY YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND TALENTED PLS NEVER STOP WRITING AND SENDING ME JOE KEERY EDITS I AM ABOUT TO GO LISTEN TO THE BACKSEAT LOVERS AND THINK ABOUT U OKAY
HELLO I LOVE YOU THANK YOU I WILL NEVER STOP I ACTUALLY HOLD MYSELF BAVK FROM SENDING HUNDREDS I LOVE YOU
