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thefallennightmare · 1 day

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Caged In: Noah Sebastian[One Shot]

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, slight smut, talks about anxiety and depression.

Summary: Noah feels himself falling deeper into the darkness and only one person can pull him out.

Authors Note: I'd felt compelled to write about Noah's mental health break and Just Pretend acoustic since I first heard it. I hope you all love it.

Tags: @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @thatchickwiththecamera @concreteemo @cookiesupplier @whenthesummerdies @sammyjoeee @madomens @xxkittenkissesxx @burning-outx @shayzillaaaa @darling-millicent-aubrey @flowery-mess @badomensls @reyadawn @exitwoundsx @malice-ov-mercy @princesspeach-00 @lookwhatitcost @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @rxdlstgn @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @respectfulrebel @cloudykoookie @niicoleleigh @thisbicc @pathion @themortaljessica @tashka @its-inourblood @amelia-acero @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch

“Noah?” I called out into the vast darkness of our home.

The old bones of the home creaked with each step as I walked farther into the darkness, a deep frown settling on my face. I was certain he was home, the text I received from him hours ago told me so.

My Love 🖤: I’m going to lay down for a bit. Worked too hard in the studio.

I’d been out all afternoon with friends, catching up with them after not seeing them for a few months. I was hesitant to leave due to everything that came to light with Noah but he assured me with an almost there smile that he’d be alright while I was gone. He would keep himself busy in the studio.

“Noah?”

My voice met silence as I slowly ascended the stairs, realizing he wasn’t on the main level. It was so quiet, I wasn’t sure if Jesse or Michael were home. Both of their bedroom doors were shut and knowing that Jesse always kept his door open when he was home, it was clear he wasn't.

Softly knocking on Michael’s door, he opened it with a head full of messy bed head.

“Sorry,” I frowned when I remembered it was almost late evening. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He gave me a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, Y/N. You got my text?”

I nodded. Michael’s text was the reason why I’d cut my girls night early.

“Is he in the studio?” I asked.

“No,” Michael shook his head. “He met up with Ash for a lesson but I haven’t heard him come home.”

“He told me he was going to lay down,” I pulled out my phone to check Noah’s location.

At Home since 2:30 p.m.

“Noah’s been home all day,” I said.

Now it was Michael who frowned. “Why would he lie to us?”

“I have a feeling I know why,” I sighed.

The frown never left my face at this point so with a small nod, I walked down to the other end of the hallway towards mine and Noah’s bedroom. I could have checked here first, but the SOS text I received from Michael had me wanting to check in with him first.

As I approached our bedroom door, a soft sound touched my ears and I felt my world turn upside down. My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach as I hesitated reaching for the knob. I could feel the tears burning in the corners of my eyes and let out a long breath.

We couldn’t ignore this any longer. The hiding, the pretending, and the lies needed to stop.

Pushing through the bedroom door, I bypassed the made bed and entered the ensuite bathroom, nearly faltering at the sight in front of me.

Oh, Noah.

The bathroom light was off, only lit up from the moonlight breaking its way through the glass of the large window above the bathtub. His large frame slumped against the shower wall, his toned and defined back to me. The intricate lines of his tattoo shivering underneath the water that most likely ran cold. Both of his hands were spread widely apart against the wall, keeping him anchored while his forehead hung low. Droplets of water fell from the ends of his hair, down to the water pooling at his feet.

Over the noise of the shower, soft cries echoed in the marbled space and Noah’s shoulders shook violently as the sobs tore through him. I stripped out of my clothes pretty quickly, not bothering to take my makeup off as I stepped into the large shower and wrapped my arms around him from behind.

Noah’s cries seized for a moment and I knew that he would try to pretend everything was fine.

“It’s alright,” I cooed, placing a kiss to the middle of his shoulder blades.

One of his hands reached for mine wrapped around him and brought it to his lips.

“You’re home early.”

I rested my cheek against his back. “You needed me.”

“Angel,” Noah breathed.

Pretty quickly, I slipped underneath his other extended arm so now I was facing him. Glancing up through the chilled shower water that hung on my eyelashes, I sucked in a breath when I noticed how bloodshot Noah’s eyes were.

“Oh, love,” I carefully caressed his cheek.

He hadn’t shaved in weeks and I desperately wanted to feel the ginger hair that lined around his mouth tickling the sensitive skin of my thighs.

Those almond eyes that were always filled with love, wonder, and light had begun to dull into nothing; darkness like the feeling that was beginning to dig its claws into Noah. I’d been afraid for weeks now that while I was away with work or other things that the darkness would swallow him whole. Which is why Michael texted me earlier, he’d become worried for his best friend.

“I’m fine,” his voice shook.

“No you’re not,” I gently shook my head. “You’re far from fine, Noah. You can’t keep this facade up.”

I felt him beginning to slip away from me, like he had many times before. Whenever I tried to get close to him, he would push me away with the lie that nothing is wrong with him.

“Stop,” I almost begged while wrapping my arms around his neck. “Please don’t pull away from me.”

Noah stood frozen underneath the chill of the water, the heat long gone and telling me he had been in the shower for quite some time. Behind those dark eyes told an even darker story of a broken man crying out for help. The war that waged in his mind was one he couldn’t continue to battle on his own.

“I can’t,” Noah shook his head. “You don’t deserve my demons. Your light is too pure for them, angel.”

My shoulders fell when he pulled away from me completely, the space between us was something I’d become accustomed too. Every time I tried to get close to him, have him open up to me, Noah created an even larger space between us.

“That’s not fair,” I wrapped my arms around my chilled body. “You don’t get to make that decision, Noah. It’s in our fucking vows that I’ll help you through these dark times.”

His face twitched and he cast his eyes down to his feet, a silent way of telling me he was done with the conversation. I did my best to not let my anger over take me because this wasn’t something he deserved. It wasn't his fault that the demons were winning. I needed to be his light in the darkness.

For a brief moment, I drank in the sight of his bare body in front of me as the droplets of water ran down the grooves of his muscles. I followed one particular drop of water as it fell over his cock and I bit my lip. It had been weeks since we were intimate last because Noah wasn’t at the right mental headspace for it. I never pushed him, letting him take his time. But as the weeks went on and the heated kisses turned into barely there pecks, my heart was beginning to fear the worst.

“Do you still love me?” I blurted out.

Noah’s head snapped up. “What?”

Turning my head to the side, I let out a shaky breath and wiped away the water from my face.

“I didn’t mean to. This isn’t about me.”

My name fell in a quiet whisper as I left Noah standing in the shower alone and wrapped one of the large towels around my frame, doing my best not to shiver at the chill I felt deep within my bones.

It was true. This wasn’t about me. I was supposed to be comforting Noah, not asking him a question I already knew the answer to. But I let those demons that were plaguing Noah affect me. I knew better than to let those win.

Turning swiftly on my heels, ready to go back into the bathroom to apologize, I nearly dropped my towel when I saw Noah’s tall frame standing over me. He wore his towel loosely around his hips and the wet tendrils of his maple hair fell into his eyes. His broad chest rose and fell with each deep breath as his hands quickly found my hips, yanking me into his chest.

“Don’t ever question my love for you, angel. Alright?”

His voice was soft, which surprised me. I expected him to be upset and gruff with my accusation.

“I didn’t mean to,” my bottom lip wobbled. “I can feel you physically and emotionally pulling away from me, love. I guess I needed that reassurance.”

I felt a subtle kiss to my forehead and found myself grasping at the sensation it filled me with.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Noah’s eyes glistened as he looked down at me.

We both sniffled at the same time and I molded even farther into his embrace.

“I love you too,” I proclaimed.

“I know,” he nodded once. “I also know that I’ve been pulling away from you and I don’t mean to. The demons in my mind keep telling me that no one cares. They keep whispering that no one will be there to save me.”

“That’s not true,” I began, to which he cut me off by wrapping a hand around the side of my neck.

“I know that. I’m trying to fight against them but it’s been so hard with everything going on. I feel like my mind and body are in a constant battle of what’s right,” Noah divulged with a tight grip on my neck, almost as if he was afraid I’d be the one to slip away.

“I’m locked in a cage with those demons. They keep beating me down, not letting me take a fucking breath,” his nose scrunched in an effort to keep the tears away. “They’re telling me to leave you because you deserve a husband that is home all the time, not on the road most of the year. You deserve a man that can give you all of his time.”

“Noah,” I grasped at the thick muscles of his arms, my heart breaking at the sight of my husband looking so defeated.

I’d known Noah since we were teens and given everything he'd gone through, I’d never seen him like this before. He’d always been the type of man that put others first, took care of his family before himself, and it became clear that I might not have been doing my part of a wife and taking care of him.

The chilled night air crept in through our open bedroom window, the curtains dancing to the music of the crickets outside and our gentle cries.

“I’ve lied to everyone. Pretended that everything is fine when it’s not. I’m crumbling into a man I don’t recognize anymore and I’m so fucking scared,” Noah burying his face int he crook of my neck, his tears mixing with the water from the shower that had yet to dry.

“Will you wait for me until I let you down?”

With a loving embrace, I began to sway Noah in my arms while his face was still hiding in my neck.

“I’m not going anywhere, Noah,” I promised. “I’m right here with you. Through the darkness. I’ll do whatever I can to pull you out.”

The silence from him was deafening, an eerie feeling that made you tip toe because you were afraid one wrong move would set it off. All of us knew Noah was a ticking time bomb and we all were careful with what we said around him. We gave him the space when he needed it, we didn’t push him when we knew he was lying about his feelings, but when Jesse and I shared a look the other night we knew we couldn’t tip toe around Noah anymore.

“Fucking bullshit!” Noah slammed the fridge door shut; the condiments in the door rattling against each other.

Jesse and I looked away from our card game at the kitchen table to see Noah slamming the kitchen cabinets now.

“Love,” I said softly. “Is everything alright?”

His eyes sliced into mine. “No, Y/N. I can’t find anything to eat in this fucking house.”

Jesse stilled next to me, ready to be on the offense if he needed. Noah rarely cussed, especially at me. But I patted Jesse’s knee softly underneath the table, letting him know it was alright.

This wasn’t Noah. We knew it.

“I thought you went shopping earlier,” I said.

Noah ran a hand through his hair. “No, it was your turn.”

My brows peaked. “Noah, you told me this morning that you would go after your therapy session.”

He didn’t utter a word, simply stuffed his hands in the pockets of his joggers before stomping up the stairs.

“Did you skip your session again?!” I yelled after him only to be met with the slamming of our bedroom door.

That night Jesse, Michael, and I all talked about how we would start helping Noah because we were hurting seeing him in such a dark place. Earlier tonight, Michael’s text gave me immediate fear which is why I cut my night early.

Michael: He broke his guitar, Y/N. It’s in pieces in the studio. I don’t know what happened but there’s blood on the carpet.

Back in the solace of our bedroom, I gently lifted Noah’s left hand to finally get a look at the deep cut along the tattoos of his best friend's name.

Keaton.

Thankfully with the shower, the blood seemed to stop but not wanting to risk it, I led Noah over to our bed and made him sit on the edge. As I stepped away from him, ready to get the first aid kit, his arms yanked me back to him which caused my towel to drop to the floor.

“Please don’t leave me,” he choked out.

My fingers worked through the drying knots of his hair as I bent down to kiss his head. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’m right here with you.”

We stayed like that for quite some time, Noah sitting on the bed while I stood in front of him; his arms caccooning around me. At that moment, no one else in the world mattered, just Noah and I. Albeit our love might have felt at a standstill the last few weeks, we both didn’t need to fear anymore that the darkness would encompass us whole. We began to realize that in that darkness, flowers would bloom and we could grow.

“What happened to your guitar?” I asked.

Noah pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of my stomach and I shivered, body ignited with the contact.

“I was working on a song for you and I couldn’t get it right,” he admitted with a disappointed sigh.

He glanced up at me, resting his chin on my stomach as I peered down at him. The roughness of his fingers grazed over the growing heated skin of my back and I let the stress of wondering if he was alright ease away.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I brushed back the hair from his face. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad I’m here though. Is there anything you need from me?”

Another kiss to my heated skin; this time along the valley of my breasts. “Just you.”

“I should wrap your hand, in case it bleeds again,” I breathed when his warm lips continued to leave marks all over my skin.

Noah hummed in response and then pulled me down to the bed with him so we could lay in a mess of locked and naked limbs together. I lay on my back as he buried his face in my neck yet again, breathing me in. The head of his cock brushed along the side of my thigh and I let out a hushed moan, desperately wanting to feel it slip between my folds; it had been so long.

“Angel,” Noah grazed his fingers over my collar bone. “I crave to feel you again but my brain isn’t in the right headspace.”

I lifted his chin to force him to look at me. “I won’t push you, Noah. I’m here for you whatever you need.”

Oh so slowly, I saw the light behind the dark depths of his eyes begin to flicker.

“Can I play that song for you?” He asked.

My lips curled up into a smile. “You don’t even have to ask me, love.”

With a kiss to my lips, one that I wasn’t eager to let go off, Noah slipped away from me to get dressed.

“I still haven’t cleaned up the mess in the studio. Give me a few minutes?” He said after slipping on the house communal Chief hoodie.

“Take your time. I’m going to get dressed.”

While Noah was gone, I dressed in a pair of thin cotton panties and one of his shirts, his scent immediately filling my senses. I went about lighting a few incense sticks, the ones that always calmed Noah down and settled into bed when he stepped back inside. With the moonlight casted over his face, I could see more of that light return as soon as he smelled the incense.

I patted the spot next to me. “Saved you a spot.”

Noah practically bounced on the mattress next to me, my giggles echoing around the room. He sat across from me, letting the guitar rest along his lap as he stared intently at me.

“What?” I shifted underneath the blanket.

“I missed that laugh,” he blinked. “I’ll never fucking forgive myself for being the reason you stopped laughing like that.”

My lips parted to speak but he shook his head, silencing me. “I haven’t been the best husband the last few weeks and I know no matter how many times I apologize, it won’t be enough to make up for how I treated you and the guys. It’s not fair to any of you.”

I nodded as he continued. “Jesse mentioned that you’re worried about me going overseas for all those summer festivals.”

It was true.

Noah would be gone for weeks while I stayed back home for work and I couldn’t stop biting my nails with worry about how he would be. I knew everyone would take care of him but it did nothing to ease my own demons.

“I just want to make sure you’ll be alright,” I bit my lip with nerves.

Noah tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m not going.”

“Wh-what?” I stuttered.

“I wanted to talk with you about it first. With the stress of the CJ OST release and everything the last two years, I need a mental break. I need time to rest and do the things we always talk about but never get to do,” Noah said.

“So you’ll just cancel all the upcoming shows?” I asked, fingers grazing over the tattoos on his arm as he still cupped my cheek.

“I’ll still play UPHEAVAL and INKARNATION but I don’t think I should go overseas. I need to get my mind right again. I need to get back into therapy and talk to someone about these feelings. I know I have you but-.”

“Sometimes it’s better to talk to someone else,” I finished for him with a kiss to the inside of his palm. “Whatever you decide, Noah. I’ll support you. Although I do think this is a great idea.”

Noah agreed and for the first time in a long while, the smile that I fell in love with slowly crept to his face. I was captivated by it that I nearly missed his thumb brush away a tear, suddenly avoiding eye contact with me.

“I know the pain you hide behind the smile on your face,” I tapped his nose.

He playfully rolled his eyes before adjusting the guitar on his lap, strumming a few random notes.. “Well, funny you mention Just Pretend.”

I pursed my lips with confusion.

“Remember all those years ago when I told you there was a demo for it but I didn’t want you to hear it because I thought it wasn’t any good?”

The memory was clear as day in my mind. We’d just moved into this house with Michael and Jesse, two weeks after Noah and I had our secret wedding. We sat on the floor of this bedroom as he played for me Just Pretend; at the time what I thought was the original and only version. Besides the rest of the guys, I was the first one to hear the song in its entirety.

“What about it?”

Noah let out a long breath before the beautifully haunting melody of our song began to fill the empty space of air between us.

“I'm so afraid that the walls that I have made have locked me in I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.”

Immediately I picked up on the change of lyrics; these ones cutting even more deep than the original.

“So will you wait me out until I let you down? So will you wait me out until I let you down?”

I sucked in a breath when the words he cried into my shoulder earlier suddenly made sense. Unsure if he knew or not, Noah’s body began to sway with his music.

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

Quickly, I glanced down to the tattoo on the inside of my forearm.

Heaven knows I aint getting over you.

“I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by that I don’t wish it’d go away. So will you wait me out. Until I let you down? So will you wait me out. Until I let you down?”

I hastily wiped away the tears as they hung on my lashes, doing my best to not let the sobs overcome me. He sat criss crossed on the bed, the rose tattoo on his knee brushing against mine.

“I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

Noah’s eyes had been closed thus far but it was as if he needed to make sure I was still here, listening to him pour his heart out for me; like he did all those years ago. When our eyes met, I gave him a reassuring nod, urging him to continue.

“Can we try again when we’re not so different? Can we make amends? Why can’t we just pretend?”

I couldn’t stop watching the way his fingers strummed against the strings of the guitar. The silver colors of the moonlight highlighted the sharpness of his cheek bones, down to his plump lips as they sang our song.

“Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

“Always, my love,” I breathed, pulling my knees to my chest.

The corners of Noah’s lips turned up. “I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I could wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you.”

Two years and a house full of love and laughter later, here Noah and I sat in the same position as he sang me his original demo for Just Pretend. My heart beat wildly in my chest, the noise roaring in my ears, as he finished out the song with a long, unsteady breath.

“Can we try again when we’re not so different? Can we make amends? Why can’t we just. Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy? Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning. Way down, would you say I'm worthy?”

Once the guitar was set on the bed next to him, I climbed into Noah’s lap, immediately crashing my lips to his. It was a slow and lazy kiss, filled with the fire of our love that we spent years building and restoring after many dark moments. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip, capturing what was left of my peach chapstick, humming in delight.

Breathless, I rested my forehead against his. “I fucking love you, Noah.”

The same thumb that brushed away his tears earlier brushed away mine. “I love you too, angel. I promise I’ll become the husband you deserve again. Those demons are still there but your love keeps them at bay.”

I pulled him down to bed with me, covering us both with the blanket as I held him from behind him. Noah would never admit it but he loved being the big spoon. It had been so long since we slept like this, always finding ourselves sleeping back to back.

“I’ll be here for you, Noah. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you,” a soft kiss to his sweater glad back.

He linked our fingers together, bringing them to his lips. “We plan on releasing that version on the soundtrack but I wanted you to be the first one to hear it.”

“Thank you,” I breathed in his scent.

We found ourselves in a comfortable silence and let the tears we shed together dry against our skin. Neither of us were perfect but those demons would no longer cage Noah inside his mind. I’d walk through the flames of hell to protect him from them. Just as slumber sunk its claws into me, ready to drag me under, Noah’s soft voice roused me from sleep.

“I dream in Hell and wake up screaming. Wishing that I was someone else. The static leaves me in a catatonic peace. I wanna finally sleep now.”

Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I raked my nails along the skin of his stomach underneath his sweater.

“Sleep now, my love. I’m right here.”

#tina talks #thefallennightmare #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens fanficiton

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usedpidemo · 18 hours

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Too many nights ((G)I-dle Yuqi)

The way you see it, even if the signs were right in front of you all along—written in bright, colorful signposts with the largest text imaginable—you’d still be hurling yourself off that cliff.

Yuqi knows this too—you think she does.

At the very least, she looks convincing enough that she feigns innocence on the matter, and she is. It's mainly a you problem. She doesn’t know you much other than being the sweet, quiet guy who was her roommate in college and nothing else.

And that’s probably the reason why she’s standing in front of your newly minted apartment on a random Monday.

—————

You’re waiting for her to pick her bags off the floor and leave. You told her to leave three times. Threaten to call security on her. She doesn’t budge. Instead, she stares. Stubborn, obstinate, unyielding.

“Please, give me one opportunity. Please let me explain myself.” Yuqi finally breaks her silence, eyes wide, glinting with tears, pleading.

“Shoot.”

She looks down, unable to see you eye to eye, her hands running through the pockets of her skirt. “You’re right. I’ve taken your kindness for granted, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Pausing, you’ve never heard her sound this quiet, this personal. “I never truly appreciated you till I was home with my parents. I should have focused more on studying than going out and having fun. Now look. They’re pissed that I’m being a bum at home instead of working, so they kicked me out.”

She proves your theory to be true. She has no reason to be here unless you bail her out of trouble again.

“But I can’t find one job that I like. Working a 9-5 or any regular cashier job seems so boring, you know what I mean? Doesn’t feel like my type of thing to do,” she continues, lightly kicking the suitcases with her feet. “My friends are all busy, so I had no one to lean on. Then I remembered you! So here I am.”

At least it was nice seeing Yuqi act mature for at least three minutes before reverting to her usual spry, childlike personality.

“Okay? Well that’s on you for being lazy, and I can’t help with that. Sorry to hear you got kicked out, but I have nothing to offer you. It was great seeing you, though. Good luck with that job.”

You try closing the door, but she stops it with her foot. Peeking through the narrow space, you find Yuqi persistent, unrelenting. “Wait. Hear me out for a second, I said I didn’t wanna be your roommate.”

“No, Yuqi. Just go—”

“I really need you right now. I’ve already applied to like five different companies on public wifi, it’s so fucking slow and I doubt they even got my email. I just need a place to stay for like a month. Trust me, I’ll get a job and when I get paid, I’ll spend it on finding my own apartment! Just give me this one time.”

You swear you’ve never heard Yuqi this desperate, this loud. Your neighbors are probably ringing up security right now, maybe the owner too.

“Okay, okay. Just calm down for a minute, will you? Our neighbors are listening.” You open the door lightly and Yuqi’s eyes light up. You didn’t even say yes, but it might as well be a confirmation to her.

“You promise? You’re actually working on a job application?” you ask, doubtful about her claim.

“Of course.” Yuqi shows her phone, presents pdf files of multiple application letters to the very places she doesn’t want to work. Some fastfood chains, at convenience stores, and mall outlets. “None of them have replied back, so—I’m still trying to apply to more places, but I’m almost out of data on my plan and I don’t wanna spend another night inside my car. Just give me this one thing? Okay?”

Seeing the evidence firsthand, you can’t help but be impressed. If you had any spine, you’d contemplate the proposal more, give it some time to mellow out, maybe let her elaborate some terms of agreement. But in a moment of weakness, you yield right away. What’s one month of Yuqi gonna do to you?

“All right, fine. I’ll let you stay—”

“I owe you one, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Yuqi doesn’t even let you finish your sentence when she brings her suitcases into your apartment at record speed. She gives you a peck on the cheek in appreciation twice, one for each pair of suitcases she shuffles in.

You can only sigh in response before closing the door.

—————

Before Yuqi gets comfortable in her new place, you sit her down on the living room couch to discuss house rules. This isn’t like college, where you share a dorm together, split the bill and have personal spaces. While you don’t own the apartment, you make one thing very clear: she’s bound to you and whatever rules you impose on her.

“Let’s make one thing and one thing clear: you break any of my rules, you’re outta here. I don’t care if you explain yourself, you’re gone. Understood?”

“Right.” Yuqi’s trembling with excitement and impatience, nodding erratically, kicking her legs up, goading you into rushing through everything so she can lay on an actual bed.

You take a moment to analyze her suitcases in the middle of the room. Facing her, you ask cautiously, “Tell me you didn’t bring your—”

“Yep!” She responds almost immediately, thrilled to answer your question, as if it were muscle memory. “It’s exactly what you think it is.”

And there goes your supposed rule one. Of course she brought her entire dorm room decor along. Knowing her, they’re likely encompassing two of her suitcases.

“Yeah, no. My landlord is quite strict about decor, so you can’t put them up,” you tell her bluntly; there’s no getting around his rule, even if your roles were swapped.

She frowns, visibly devastated, probably more hurt than being kicked out by her family. It’s the end of the world, but she won’t give in. If there’s even a slight possibility she can have her way, she will force herself through. “Please? Even just my room—”

“Not a chance. It’s just a general rule here, sorry.” You make sure to shut her down immediately. “I didn’t make that rule, anyway. Blame the owner.”

Yuqi acquiesces. She groans with displeasure, crossing her arms, acting bratty. No act can convince you to change your mind.

“Right. Now actual ground rules. This isn’t a dorm so you can’t just freeload as much as you want. Now I understand you're still working on that job application, so all I’m asking is just for you not to be completely messy, got it? So don’t eat my leftovers without asking, don’t go out to clubs and ask me to drive you home when you’re drunk, none of that. If you’re drunk, sleep outside the room. I don’t want to clean up vomit on the carpets.”

Surprisingly, Yuqi agrees without complaint. You’re unsure whether she’s nodding so she can settle in, or if she actually understood every single word.

“I seriously hope you’re working on that job—”

“Don’t worry! Just give me the wifi password and I’ll be set.” Yuqi can’t help but interrupt you every single time, and to her credit, it’s effective. She does seem dead set on taking this opportunity to redeem herself, and it’s a convincing act. As insufferable as she can be at times, you want to see her succeed. You want to see her win.

You jot down the wifi password on an extremely thin sheet of paper and place it on the table before her. Before walking away, you ask her, “You need me to help with your belongings? I’ll get the guest room ready while you make yourself comfort—”

“Nah, it’s fine!” Yuqi’s typing on her phone, not even shooting you a look in your direction. “I’ll get it sorted out, don’t worry! Just pretend I’m not here.”

To her credit, she does get her belongings sorted out. By evening, she moves into a cleared out storage room that’s now her designated bedroom. Words are hardly exchanged other than simple pleasantries and greetings. You ask her if she had dinner, she says yes. She doesn’t take anything from the fridge other than some water. There’s a knock on the door; she answers and comes back with a package of chinese food. She offers to share some, but you modestly decline.

You never ate together when you shared a dorm in college. She would eat her inside her bedroom or after you already cleaned up. At times, she’d come back to the dorm late and you wouldn’t see her till the following day. You share the same space but you have vastly different lives. The feeling is familiar, but the setting is new: having dinner under the low light, uncertain about your futures.

This feels like your first day together all over again.

—————

The first night with Yuqi is a quiet affair. There’s hardly any commotion. An unusual scene. She finishes her food ahead of you then retreats into her bedroom without uttering a single word.

When you wake up the next morning, Yuqi is already at the dining table. Browsing her laptop, coffee in hand, seemingly focused on that next job application. She doesn’t even greet you or acknowledge your existence; she’s in her own world, but in a good way.

“Morning,” you quietly say, trying to grab her attention, but it falls on deaf ears.

“You off to work?” she asks, preceded by a mouse click while you pour onto your mug. Her attention remains glued to the screen, paying you no heed.

“Kind of?” You take a seat opposite Yuqi’s side on the table. “I work here. Or should I say: this is my workplace.”

“Wow. I wish I could work from home. Would be nice,” she replies between mouse clicks and keyboard taps.

You take a light sip of your coffee. “What course did you take again?”

“Umm—” Yuqi slumps back in her chair, “I think it was medicine? I wanted to become a guitarist and have my own band, but my parents wanted me to become a doctor. And I don’t wanna ruin my handwriting, so—”

“Don’t you have a band with your friends? The one with—”

“Yeah that dream died two years ago.” Yuqi’s eyes squint, brows furrowing, running through every word slightly faster than normal. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Not even a little—”

“No.” She faces you with a surprisingly cold glare, a sight you’ve never seen before. “They can just fuck off—those goddamn bitches.”

You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward after her abrupt turn. It’s probably for the best; you hardly paid any attention to Yuqi’s life to be entitled to a substantial explanation.

The rest of the hour goes by in deafening, awkward silence. Here’s Yuqi, this ball of energy whose life primarily revolves around partying and getting rowdy, calmly clicking on the touchpad and typing a few words every now and then in search of a way to fund her addiction. You can tell from her sullen expression just how deprived she is of that high—how incomplete she feels without the rush of adrenaline, ecstasy, and alcohol flowing through her veins. It’s impressive how it takes someone to hit rock bottom to turn their life around, how all this could have been avoided with a few decisions.

Still, it’s never too late for someone like her, and as long as she holds up her end of the deal, i.e. leave you for good after this, you’ll actively root for her success.

—————

“Fucking hell, dude,” sighs Yuqi, slamming the panel of her laptop hard, her fist narrowing missing the edge of the table. While you’ve made yourself comfortable at your usual workplace, a spacious office desk on the other side of the living room, you’re preoccupied scanning through numerous documents and emails your boss sent you. A look at the bottom right of the screen tells you it’s half past lunch. Then your stomach grumbles, as if the clock wasn’t enough of a reminder.

“Gonna make lunch,” you say to a vexed Yuqi, who’s stretching her legs against the table and her arms to the ceiling, body likely aching from her hunched position. “You good?”

“Yep.” Her tone perfectly toes the line between sincerity and sarcasm. “Got three rejections—no, four, actually. The last one was sent minutes ago.”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“Oof.”

You couldn’t relate to her even if you tried. Of the two applications you sent, your current job is the one that gave you the freedom and flexibility to work from home, even if it paid less than the other. That was six months ago; finding job opportunities has become way harder, or so you’ve heard from your other unemployed peers from college.

“Finding a job sucks,” says Yuqi, stating the obvious. She finally gets up from her chair, brings her laptop back into her bedroom to charge before reemerging with a hairpin wrapped around her knuckles, tying it around her loose red hair. “So, what’s for lunch?”

“Meatloaf and eggs,” you reply, firing up the stove as you grab pans from beneath the sink. “Not sure if you’ll like it, though.”

She lifts her eyebrows, intrigued, but mostly unbothered. She’ll eat anything as long as it isn’t fast food or from the convenience store, and she doesn’t have the gall to complain, anyway, as your roommate.

—————

“So, how’s the job hunting going?” you ask her right as the sun descends over your apartment windows. You have your schedule down to a science, finishing all intended projects and goals when neighboring buildings’ lights open. Weekdays can’t be anymore mundane and monotonous, but you get the job done, you’re paid handsomely, and you have time for your other hobbies.

Meanwhile, Yuqi looks like she doesn’t want to stare at a computer screen for a week, maybe a month. She looks worse off than she did in the morning. It’s evident in her clothes, her hair, her face: frazzled and messy. A perfect representation of her state.

“What do you think?” she replies, never sounding so heated, so frustrated. A look at her screen shows a new rejection letter, piled between several others, already read. Each one with different reasons, different ways to hurt, but with the same intent: we appreciate your interest, but we have chosen a different candidate from a very competitive pool—we don’t think you fulfill our qualifications—we’re looking for someone with more experience—we wish you the best in your future endeavors. You’ve noticed she tends to click back and forth between each letter, as if to torture herself further.

“I think you should put that laptop away. Try again tomorrow,” you tell her, closing the panel while she’s scrolling, stealing her attention. She readjusts her glasses, blinking rapidly, annoyed at your little intervention. “I’m going for a walk. You should join me.”

“And what if I don’t?” she asks, threatening to pull her laptop away from your fingers.

“Good luck going out when I have the room key then.”

“I don’t have my running shoes,” she replies, and she’s telling the truth; she only brought one pair of slippers with her, the rest being colorful sets of boots and expensive high heels.

“Then grab some from my closet and wash up. You’ll look stupid if you go out in those silly boots.”

—————

At first, you believe she had declined the offer; you had already left the building when Yuqi caught up to you moments later, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Hey, maybe she could have been a great track and field athlete if she put her mind to it.

You can’t help but make a little comment. “Thought you weren’t going to go out.”

That was for all the times she’d make similar remarks to you back in college. They never really bothered you; you were never a man of high morals and upstanding, but at least you had your priorities sorted out, unlike Yuqi.

Yuqi playfully counters your rib, shooting you a disparaging stare. “Dude. I’m doing you a favor by doing this.”

“Elaborate.” You laugh.

“You never went out whenever I asked you. You always said no to parties.”

“And for good reason. Look at us now.”

If you wanted to, you’d be harsher. You have years of dirty laundry and grievances to air out, but this is as concise and as restrained as you can express them without getting accused of attempted murder. Besides, you can’t keep a straight face the longer you look at her. She clearly stands out in a rather dreary and dull crowd, and it isn’t the red hair as bright as the sun, it's her look—or lack thereof. Your oversized hoodie, your running shoes mixed with her pajamas, the lack of bra—it’s obvious she only did the bare minimum to look decent in a public setting, and yet she fits in all of them like a glove.

“Where are we going, anyway? Can it be a bar? I hope it’s a bar.”

The first thing she wants to look for once outside is a place to drink. Of course. It’s hardly a surprise to you or anyone at this point.

“Where’s your car anyway?” you question back.

“I dunno. Could be in the carpark, could have been impounded. I don’t remember, and I don’t really care. It smells like dogshit, anyway, cause I’ve been living in it for the past three weeks.”

Yuqi talks with a fine blend of fast and sardonic, evidently scarred from all her ordeals with that car. She’s never experienced living outside her glass castle until now, and it shows. She’s dragging her feet with every step following you close behind, trying to soak in the scenery around her. Street lights, joggers, buskers, friends, and partners of every sort, people that you actually know and recognize. It’s all foreign in her eyes. All she knows are strobe lights, loud music, drinks, and rowdy crowds.

“So, like, do you just go on a walk every single day or you only do this because I’m your roommate?” she wonders, her gaze lingering at a passing woman jogger that catches her eye. Jumping to conclusions, she adds, “Are you telling me to touch grass? As if I hadn’t been doing that for weeks?”

You turn around and notice her distant stare, still fixated on that woman, ruminating the prospect of leaving you for her instead. “I don’t think getting blacked out drunk and vomiting in your car counts as touching grass.”

“How do you even know that?” Yuqi faces you, provoked by your comment, pouting. “You hardly attend parties, even when I invited you. You always turned them down.”

“Word gets around fast. I thought you already knew that.”

If she could, she’d grab you by the throat and strangle you to death or rip you in half. It stings. She questions whether your blunt, matter-of-fact delivery makes the statement ten times more scathing. Then she wonders if she made a mistake, dressing up and going after you, when you’ll just be making her regret her life decisions like her parents did. You hardly cared back then, so why now?

“Can we just go to a bar? You’re being annoying.” Yuqi stares into the distance, intentionally averting her gaze away from you.

“If you have the money, then sure, let’s go for it.” You know she has no leverage or power; she can only afford fast food and a month’s worth of groceries and daily necessities. It pains her to make a willing decision to pass on alcohol and avoid bars and parties. She’s down horrendously, but she won’t directly confess her own fatal flaw.

It takes everything within her not to slap you square in the face.

And you can play this game all night long until she folds. You can stand there, argue, and debate with Yuqi till she runs out of excuses and complaints. Four years of pent up material to unload onto her, make a scene in public and turn her into an example about not wasting one’s life away. You can go further, you promise.

Instead, you both settle down in a cafe on the other side of the park as a compromise.

The place is more suited to Yuqi’s style: lively crowd, comfortable ambience, all the caffeine and sugar as a proxy to her raging alcohol addiction. Most importantly, she won’t pay for shit. You don’t even end up drinking your own order; she does it on your behalf. You settle for a tiny cup of tap water instead. In a way, she’s acting like a needy dog, desperate for attention without concern for anything else that doesn’t involve her.

“Fucking hell, I never knew I needed this,” she echoes, sipping up the last quarter of your coffee, glancing at the menu over the counter, itching for another. She’s keen on paying from her pocket this time; she recognizes you won’t give her another freebie. “This shit tastes so good.”

You can only shake your head, not even remotely trying to hide your frustration toward her. Her obliviousness is kind of cute in a way, making her look a bit sympathetic.

“Maybe I should just work here,” she says, her eyes moving in every direction, her attention taken by something shiny every five seconds. Plenty of action happens at night: groups entering and exiting, the pervasive scent of fresh coffee brewing in real time, and plenty of girls to ogle at. In particular, there’s a waitress with a cherry tattoo on her neck that’s captured her interest. She can’t help but point her out to you, grinning widely at her. “See that waitress? She’s kinda cute.”

“Uh-huh.” You’re not really paying attention; you’re there mainly for the free wifi and a snack, not to flirt. Luckily for you both, the waitress is preoccupied with meeting high customer demands to notice. “Good idea, maybe you should apply here.”

The longer you stay inside the cafe premises, the more Yuqi becomes less inclined to leave. You end up having dinner, a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches from the snack menu. On her end, four cups of coffee strewn on the table, all drank by her. If this was some ploy to make you pay for free drinks, it worked to a tee. Anything to avoid engaging you in a serious conversation.

The opportunity never presents itself. Soon, the cafe becomes dimmer and muted. Staff are closing off sections, clearing trays, and cleaning up empty tables. Since you entered the cafe, she has not made a move on the waitress at all, even when you’ve tried pushing her over the cliff numerous times. Her shift is close to done, ready to check out for the day. One more opening. Still, Yuqi watches her intently, but can’t find the strength to stand, let alone pull the trigger.

“Well? I thought you were gonna ask her out or something.” You take a look around and come to a grim realization: that you’re the only two customers left.

“I—I don’t think I wanna do it now.” Yuqi turns around, playfully grinning, but rushing through her words. “Maybe when I get the job here. Maybe.”

You can only react in quiet disbelief to how this was all just a huge waste of time—and money.

“Fucking—” you sputter before masking the rest of your response, groaning as you rise from your seat, leaving.

After two days, your main observation is that Yuqi hasn’t changed much. If at all.

—————

The rest of the week follows a similar structure. It’s comforting; it’s the kind of monotony you’ve acquainted yourself in ever since having your own apartment. Yuqi’s always up before you, an hour in advance, she’ll tell you. At her usual spot around the dining table, on her laptop, coffee in hand. You stop asking for updates after the third day; you’re certain she’ll figure things out. Your mindfulness and curiosity get the better of you, peeking through the screen on occasion, only to find the same thing. One rejection after another, mixed in with a new application letter in between. From the outside looking in, it’s as if some divine force doesn’t want her to get that job.

In the evenings, you go for your usual walks. Yuqi joins you out of the apartment building, but instead of following, she separates and heads the other way. She’s wearing her own earphones and your hoodie, something she’ll end up keeping. The few times you run across each other, she's holding some drink in her hand, usually the coffee from the cafe you spent time with her in, her hoodie pooling with sweat all over. No pleasantries, you mind your own business till you return home.

It isn’t until two weeks after she’s moved in that you extend an invitation: a visit to a newly opened lounge on the other side of town. You preface the invite saying you only knew about the place because it had opened a month ago, and had mostly forgotten about it until you remembered her. She’s doing well for herself, so you might as well reward her for her efforts, even if it hasn’t gone anywhere. And it isn’t Yuqi without asking for some kind of favor; in this case, taking a ride in your car because hers has been impounded by the police. You’re not even surprised that she’s too lazy to reclaim it herself.

Your friend says the lounge is newly opened, but once inside, you’re uncertain about her claim. Whether it's by design or her being a complete liar, grimy, poorly lit, in the vein of all those underground clubs you had seen in action movies where a shootout or police raid occurs. Simply put, there isn’t anywhere pretty to look at, and you feel icky just by being here.

To Yuqi, it’s a fantasyland: it’s where she’s meant to be all along. She’s so overjoyed to be there.

“It’s you!” calls a familiar voice; you turn and find a friendly face over the counter waving to you. You quietly leave Yuqi to herself and approach the bartender, who just so happens to be the owner. “I never thought you’d come and visit! It’s great to see you.”

“Only doing this for a friend, Minnie,” you silently tell her, pointing your finger at your invited guest, the sole reason you’d ever be here. She recognizes her immediately and understands.

“Yuqi, huh?” She looks intrigued, her gaze lingering at the girl. A subtle grin is forming on her face. “Never thought the two of you would be an item like that, considering she’s a party animal and you’re—”

“No—no—don’t get it twisted,” you interrupt, frantically trying to clear up any presumption. There’s no chance in hell you will ever find yourself attached to Yuqi romantically, not even a little. “It’s—a long story.”

“Do tell.” Minnie smirks, teasing, alluring. She looks the part of a bar owner, all right; dark eyelashes and shadowy lipstick matching her pitch black hair. Not to mention her slim dress perfectly hugging her tight frame, showing enough cleavage to draw attention. As a friendly gesture, she gives you a wine glass and pours a drink on it. “We’ve got all the time in the world and all the drinks you need. All in house since you’re a friend.”

So you oblige yourself to a tiny sip. The place is surprisingly quiet and empty, even though it’s the weekend, with lo-fi music playing through the speakers as the only form of background noise. Minnie doesn’t have much on her plate. She can lean on the desk and listen to you all night long.

“So, two weeks ago, Yuqi moved into my place trying to look for a job,” you tell Minnie before taking another sip. Both of you take quick glances at Yuqi, seemingly having the time of her life, scaring off the sole patron by the billiards table. “And I was wondering if you can get her a job here. She’s been rejected from every company she applied for. I know she doesn’t want to work a nine-to-five, and I suddenly remembered this place.”

Minnie raises a curious eyebrow, brushing small strands of hair covering her ear. “I see.” Looking past you, she notices Yuqi, now at the karaoke, amused by her voice and energy. You follow along and watch too, wincing at her talent, caught completely by surprise. You can feel the passion and emotion from her rather honeyed, deep singing voice, as well as her natural charisma while performing.

“Damn. She sounds really good. Borderline natural at it.” Minnie’s in awe of Yuqi’s abilities, the sort of reaction that pushes buttons, steals the show. “Wasn’t she in a band? I know she played guitar.”

“She said it doesn’t exist anymore, won’t tell me what happened.”

Even in the midst of conversation, Yuqi’s voice manages to snatch away your focus. She’s an extremely powerful singer—a natural, as Minnie said. Her voice is overpowering the background music with little difficulty. There’s little need to watch when her vocals can easily capture your attention all the same.

Facing you again, Minnie replies, clasping her hands together, “How about she perform by herself?” she suggests.

You meet her eye to eye at the drop of the notion, curious.

“What do you mean?” You take another sip.

“We have an open mic night next weekend, and we could use talent to liven up the place. She sounds perfect for that kind of gig. Who knows? Maybe she can be a resident singer if the cards are right.” Minnie smiles through every word, recognizing Yuqi’s talent and the untapped potential she has. All she needs is a platform to showcase her skill properly. And taking another glance at her, you see that too. She has the passion and the vocals to croon a live audience.

“I’ll tell her,” you say, turning to Minnie again. Yuqi has finished performing and is on her way over to the bar. Your conversation breaks off as the two women greet each other with an exchange of kisses on the cheek.

“Great place you got here girl,” Yuqi tells Minnie, beaming from ear to ear. “I’ll be popping by often if you don’t mind.”

“Thanks. I could use some company on the weekdays, if I’m being honest.” Minnie hands Yuqi her own wine-filled glass, as well as a complimentary bottle. She makes sure not to “Take it, it’s on the house.”

“God, this is why I love you so fucking much.” Yuqi drinks up the whole glass in one swig, and immediately pours some from the complimentary bottle. Minnie can’t help but shake her head with a little smile, knowing this is still the same Yuqi she’s acquainted with since college. A rose-tinted view of days gone by.

The two women spend the rest of the time catching up. With how much they talk, it would be a safe assumption to think that these are two long lost friends who haven’t spoken in years. Then the conversation goes on and on, revealing more details than you should probably know: exchanged private messages as recent as last night, Yuqi’s intentions to visit the lounge sooner before present circumstances got in the way, and how she ended up in your apartment. As a listener and side character in her story, it’s a part you quite frankly never wanted, let alone be involved in under any capacity. You make sure to add your point of view in the narrative and clear every question. Whenever you chime in, they laugh heartily. It’s a mess, and they’re unapologetically quirky, never failing to make fun of you at times.

Despite everything, the topic is never brought up: the upcoming open mic night, her performance, her natural talent. You were planning to shoehorn the idea, but one too many drinks later, the conversation and opportunity eventually slips away. Again.

Yuqi can hardly stand on her own two feet when she finally decides it's time to leave. It’s two in the morning when you guide her back to your car, with her drunk out of her mind and slipping into unconsciousness. Minnie assists you, making it even more embarrassing. Even when she’s so inebriated that she can barely move a muscle, she says she wants another round, slipping back into her old ways.

You escort Yuqi back to your apartment, setting her down on her bed and promising yourself that you’ll tell her about Minnie’s offer when she’s sober in the morning.

Except it’s the one fucking day in the month where your job calls you into an actual office for a meeting. Despite that, Yuqi is not at her usual spot in the living room the next morning (unsurprisingly), so you leave food on the table for when she eventually wakes up.

—————

Returning late in the afternoon, you find a note from Yuqi on the outside door of your apartment, stamped by strawberry lipstick, simply reading:

> Not gonna be around till tomorrow. Have something urgent to attend to - XOXO, song yuqi

Sure enough, one brief tour of the apartment and Yuqi is nowhere to be seen. Her room remains untouched: the same, colorful space it’s always been, with most of her clothes and belongings still strewn everywhere on the floor. You don’t even mind the stickers and posters plastered all over the walls; she was gonna break that rule regardless. Typical, but expected. At least you know she hasn’t completely left yet.

Deep down, it’s the first time in a while that your apartment feels a lot smaller—and lonelier. It’s not that you have any sentimental attachment to Yuqi—not in the slightest—but her presence clearly livens up the place. The difference without her around is night and day. Even when your interactions are limited to a minimum, the brief moments you interact make living by yourself a bit more tolerable.

So you preoccupy your mind with your usual schedule: a walk in the park, then dinner by yourself. But these intrusive thoughts grow worse and worse. You’re not in your pajamas at the usual hour, her absence is keeping you up at night, and waiting for her to walk through that door is about as brutal as federal punishment.

You end up driving to Minnie’s bar, inquiring about Yuqi’s whereabouts. She says she hasn’t been around, and she hasn’t exchanged messages with her since last night. Then she asks about open mic night; you tell her about the inconvenience, about the note on your door, which is why you’re there. Good effort, but she ultimately gives you nothing.

“You should stay here a while, who knows? I can message Yuqi you’ve been looking for her,” says Minnie, her smile as welcoming as it’s ever been. “Why not have a drink in the meantime?”

“Hmm.” You entertain the thought, but she promised to return tomorrow, and perhaps you’re overthinking it; you just have to let it play out. “No thanks.” As a distraction you’re watching another girl at the karaoke machine. She has distinctively pink hair, has similar energy and passion for singing, except her voice is much higher, more nasally. All she does is remind you of Yuqi, but she’s nowhere close—in appearance and in ability. “She promised to be back tomorrow. Maybe I should take her word for it and go home.”

A pour of wine on the glass is followed by her siren-like whisper. With her hand caressing your shoulder, she mutters, “So—you like her. You like Song Yuqi.”

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback by her statement. Facing Minnie, you reply, “What? No way. I don’t like Yuqi at all. I’m just concerned she might have disappeared, that’s all.”

“Cap.” Minnie smirks, murmurs to your other ear. “You like her. Actually, you love her. You just won’t admit it.”

“And what makes you say that?”

“The fact you look so distressed wondering where she is. I mean—just look at you.” Her voice is slow, delicate, each word delivered with profound emphasis. She flickers a lighter, then directs the cigarette in her mouth for a puff. “Would someone who doesn’t like her worry like this?”

“I mean—I’m just trying to help her get back on her feet,” you tell her, and Minnie can only chuckle in response. Puff more smoke. In her eyes, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your words have no weight to them. It’s the same old same old most women like her hear dozens of times. I’m not into her, says the guy who’s showing an alarming level of concern towards said girl. Something she’s all too familiar with. “You know? Just looking out for a friend, that kinda thing.”

Minnie wishes she can hold up a mirror against you now to prove her point. In a place meant for everyone to relax and ease themselves, you look tumid, on the verge of a historical crash out. She smirks into her next smoke, shaking her head, scrolling through her phone. “Sure. I believe you,” she remarks, and there’s no effort made to hide the sarcasm in any capacity.

That piece of cigar looks quite appealing right now. She sells smoking like she sells the off shoulder dress draping her defined figure: exceptionally well, like she’s meant for it.

Later in the night—you’re unsure whether it’s still today or tomorrow—Minnie suddenly approaches you with a shift in enthusiasm, as seen through her grin: “You should probably head home. Unless you want to stay the night waiting for someone who won’t be here in the morning.”

“She’s back already?” You manage to decipher the hint right away.

She nods, can’t help herself from beaming continuously. No effort to lie or maintain the mystery further. “I guess you’re not as stupid as I thought you’d be.”

Running up the stairs in a hurry, you respond to her little jab with a shout, “And you owe me one for that. Actually—no, I owe you one!”

Unknowingly, Yuqi’s little mannerisms are starting to reflect in you, too.

Sure enough, you’re home within a matter of minutes. Empty streets, dead nightlife on a weekday, the loudest thing heard for miles is the roar of your car’s engine and the elevator headed up to your apartment floor. Any other time you’d burst through that door like an officer with an arrest warrant, but it’s almost three in the morning, and the last thing you want to be is apprehended yourself after a noise complaint.

The place remains as unchanged as you had left it: completely dark, save for one light over the kitchen. It’s quiet, eerily silent—until you hear airy, soft noises in the distance. Room by room, you carefully inspect where the sound is coming from, only to find nothing at all.

There’s only one place left to check, and it happens to be the Yuqi’s bedroom. A room you remember being empty. As you approach the sole unopened door, you notice the faint sound growing in pitch. Hushed words from a familiar tone.

“Fuck—oh fuck—”

You press an ear against the door frame. She sounds clearer. Way more explicit. Vivid.

“So—so—good—fuck yes—”

There’s a subtle creaking sound that accompanies her singsong tone almost perfectly. Nothing is left open for interpretation; Yuqi is feeling herself. Feeling a satisfaction that only comes from something slick, something rough, something good.

As much as you want to respect her space, her moment in the dark, you can’t help yourself. She sounds so good, so gratifying to the ears, it’s making you a little hot and flustered, much to your own guilt and shame. You don’t care about the consequences; you’ll allow yourself one little look then pretend it never happened. At best, she’s too preoccupied with her own bliss to notice, and at worst, it’ll be one awkward conversation starter in the morning.

“Oh, oh God—you feel really good baby—just like that—”

It’s as if she’s reading your mind, understanding your intentions. The way she moans your name like an invitation—something you never thought you would hear or even consider—how it’s naturally delivered from her sweet, intoxicating voice. You’re doing yourself a disservice by listening through the door.

There’s no better opportunity than now.

With your heart racing against your chest, every nerve in your muscles tense up as it desperately opens the door, slowly and as quietly as humanly possible. Miraculously, you go completely unnoticed. Even as light from the living room slowly penetrates through Yuqi’s bedroom, it fails to cover what really matters: the bed and Yuqi herself.

Nevertheless, the sight that welcomes you is one to behold, one worth looking at with complete awe.

Yuqi’s body is splayed out on the bed. Her legs are spread wide, a couple of her fingers aggressively rubbing against her exposed clit, and there’s a glossy sheen coating the sheets before her soaking wet core. Her clothes are, unsurprisingly, scattered all over the floor, along with a pair of consumed alcohol bottles. She’s completely bare for your eyes to see. Nothing is left to your imagination. More importantly, she looks so fucking hot. Your heart is racing like never before, and the scene has your pants in a twist.

Her other hand runs up and down her lithe frame, then squeezes her own breast. She lets out this sharp mewl, grinding her hips against air. Her jaw slacks wide. Her eyes shut tight. Her back arches. Waves of self-induced pleasure send shockwaves through every fiber of her being, her moans growing more and more erratic.

“Fucking give it to me—I love this cock so fucking much—”

It’s about as pornographic and explicit as it gets. It riles you up in an uncomfortable way; you end up unzipping your pants to free your growing erection, but nothing happens beyond that. It feels wrong. It is wrong, but you can’t muster up the strength to look away, let alone walk away. You want to see how it ends. How she cums.

She wraps a hand around her own throat, while her knees are planted upright with her feet firmly gripped on the sheets. There's a noticeable tone change in her whines, as if simulating the act. Yet, the words flow from her lips seamlessly. “I’m so close—so, so close—”

The cackle she makes after is mortifying. Here’s this girl, who you had zero attraction prior to tonight, shamelessly declaring how she’s going to cum, how good your cock feels inside her—without either of the two even happening to begin with. The fact she likes you is the least shocking revelation in itself. A reminder: you only had three meaningful conversations with her since she moved in—two if you consider how blackout drunk she was the night before, and even if you go all the way back to your college days, you can count them with your fingers alone.

“Fucking—cumming—oh my God—”

Yuqi strains her knees and loosens her grip on the sheets as she lets the pleasure wash over. Clear liquid gushes past her throbbing, relentless fingers and spills onto the linen. A guttural, deep moan fills the bedroom as she slumps her body flat on the mattress, her energy completely depleted, her thoughts filled with nothing but orgasmic bliss. Her coated hands rest on her bare waist, her tummy, leaving viscous sheen on her creamy pale skin.

When she isn’t screaming your name or touching herself to the thought of you, Yuqi, at her barest, looks so gorgeous like this. Flaws and all.

Albeit brief, it’s quite the show to more than satisfy your thirst for her. You remember your uninvited presence in this room and where you stand in this relationship. That she’s only a tenant—an acquaintance at best—and nothing more. Any other person and situation would already send you damning to hell.

So you quietly leave, gather your bearings, hoping her haze doesn’t clear before she is made aware of your presence, but you hear a faint whisper right as you close the door, clearer than any whine of pleasure:

“Hey.”

Part of you wants to ignore her, pretend this is all a huge misunderstanding and feign ignorance. Then you hear her soft, alluring voice calling your name and it’s what ultimately folds you:

“W-what time is it?”

Again, you consider the choice of entertaining her question or leaving her dry. She’ll probably fall asleep shortly after and forget these few moments. You tell her it’s three in the morning, hoping she dozes off.

She doesn’t.

“Shit. Can you come inside? I mean—come in.”

She’s still thinking about you, and it’s admittedly cute. You love how unabashedly blunt—and lewd—she is when she’s drunk. You give her the benefit of the doubt and reenter the room.

Yuqi realizes the messy state she and her bedroom are in when you turn on the lights. Cheeks puffed and red from embarrassment, she tries to hop off the mattress, only to stumble to the floor on her fours.

“I’m so, so, sorry. I didn’t think you’d—”

“Hey hey, it’s fine.” You grab her off the floor and sit her on the bed. “Don’t apologize. I’ll get some water; stay here and rest.”

Your eyes are meeting, hers twinkling. In those few, crucial moments, right when you’re about to leave, you feel an irresistible tug pulling you closer to each other.

Suddenly, Yuqi pulls you in by the shirt for a deep, passionate kiss. Her lips taste like actual whisky and vodka, indicating what she drank earlier that night. Yet they feel so lush, so sweet, filled with so much passion. You don’t bother trying; you fold to your lust, submit to her desire. You sink onto the bed together, never breaking apart, even for a second. Next thing you know, her hands are all over your body, roaming your chest, coiled around your neck, removing the shirt over your head to be tossed aside and completely forgotten.

Yet there’s still some resistance. Despite making the first move, she pulls back, and you do so in return. You’re hovering on top of her—an unexpected but welcome position to be in.

“I didn’t know what got me there. I’m sorry. I just felt this sudden need to kiss you and—”

You shut her up by diving in and kissing her again, pinning Yuqi down to the mattress—the very thing that got you into this position to begin with. With you all over her, she’s able to shed the rest of your clothes: first the slacks, followed by your boxers. She mewls at the sensation of your hard cock pressed against her slit, and it’s beyond what her imagination can describe. It’s electrifying. And God, you know you’re no better than her, but you just want to fuck her right then and there, give her everything she wants without a second thought.

Grabbing you by the scalp, she rips your lips off her chin as you’re making your way down her neck. “Not yet. Nuh uh.” She pulls you into yet another kiss, as if you’re oxygen—and in a way, it’s appropriate: you’re breathing new life into her. “Did I ever tell you that you were a good kisser?”

“Not at all,” you tell her, gently shaking your head. “You’re not half bad yourself.”

“Half bad?” Yuqi raises a sharp eyebrow, seemingly offended by your backhanded compliment. A dangerous smirk forms on her lips. “Says the one who was watching me the entire time—”

“You knew?” There’s a heightened sense of panic in your voice. “I thought you were—”

“Shhh.” She kisses you, pulls you into a warm cuddle atop her. Slender legs wrapped around your hips, she follows: “Less talk, more lovemaking.”

And more lovemaking you do. You grow more easily acquainted with her lips than with her personality, and you barely know them: it’s only been a few minutes. Even though it’s a Thursday, the weekend feels like a lifetime away. You should be up five hours from now; you have the alarm preset and everything. But Yuqi’s getting in your way again, as she always has, and this won’t certainly be the last. She’s so hypnotic, so alluring, you find yourself unable to slip away, no matter how hard you try.

You find that it’s easier to give in than to struggle aimlessly.

It’s effortless to get your fingers pressed inside her sopping core, brushing along sensitive, wet ridges of skin, where thoughts of you manifested into thin, delicate strokes. Her moans ring against your ears in varying pitches, each with a distinct, pulsing plea of satisfaction. Keep going, she tells you, and you follow without complaint. All this while you leave a soft path of bite marks down her neck and collarbones, until you reach her petite chest.

And fuck, you just go down on Yuqi. Sucking on her breasts like you’re in the middle of an oasis in the desert. She goes wild. Tossing, turning, trembling. You can feel her body close on you, wanting to take you in and suffocate you. The bed is creaking, growing strikingly more intense, turbulent. All this spurring you on, making you more reckless, more daring with her.

“Mmmmm—fuck!” She lets out a hum of desperation, her hot, shaky breath fogging on your skin. You become an intertwined labyrinth of limbs that fit together, where you have no idea where it begins and where it ends. Your fingers vanish between her legs, still working tirelessly, perfectly snug around her pussy even when crushed between the weight of her thighs.

Eventually, you find yourself staring aimlessly at Yuqi. She’s so beautiful, and you’re punching yourself mentally, wondering why it took so long to come to this conclusion. Even when she’s not rocking the trendy hair color of the week and her face is a canvas for every conceivable makeup and filter, she’s naturally pretty. Especially now, completely bare—and with nothing but an exasperated, satisfied look of inebriated, lust filled bliss.

You find the light peeking from the living room, casting a shadow between your tangled legs. She’s dripping at her core, showering your fingers with a fresh flow of sheen, messing up the sheets even further if that’s even possible. They’re beyond saving at this point, and so are you.

Rolling to her side, Yuqi wraps her arm around you, as if enticing you to stay. You shouldn’t have done this, but it’s too late: there’s no going back. You’re too lazy to close the door, and you have the girl you previously never gave a second look rubbing lazy circles on your stomach with her coated nails. Her hair draped all over your arm and shoulder, her eyes looking up at yours, acting all soft and innocent—

Until she starts talking again. “It wouldn’t be complete unless you cum inside me, wouldn’t it?”

The difference between her body language and her lips is night and day. Right then and there, you immediately recognize that there’s no other way this night will end. How your body moves at her will, how you immediately roll on top of her, as if it’s programmed to follow her every command. You have her legs pressed up and spread wide, her knees bent, lining your aching cock against the wet slit of her cunt. All while her features twist into a sickening, slimy grin in the slim shape of a lip bite. The fire, the desire—it’s still as bright as ever.

And to make sure you aren’t second guessing the idea, her arms are coiled around your neck, her hands grabbing at your hair, pressing on your nape. Yuqi wants you—needs you—to fuck her silly; it’s the only way she can be satiated.

You watch Yuqi’s expression contort from anxious to messy, and the feeling is mutual. You slip in, slow and delicate, going against her instruction, and you almost lose it at the first stroke. The deep, guttural moan you make echoes throughout the entire apartment, while her firm walls pulse against your cock. It’s hot, it’s tense, it’s suffocating.

“Shit, shit, shit—” you mutter, gently trying to pull back, but the fiery sensation burns, scratches away at your psyche, at your loins. “So—fucking—tight—Yuqi—fuck.”

“C’mon. Fuck me. Fuck me now.” She kisses your ear, her legs pounding against your hips, demanding you to move. There’s some serious intent behind her tone, a seamless blend of demand and impatience. “Use that big cock—mmm!”

You can only groan in response as you thrust back in deep, her grip on your body tighter than ever. And it’s more than just her cunt; she’s clinging onto you for dear life.

It hardly matters when you’re leaving sore, red marks on her skin or ripping through the blankets. It hardly matters when Yuqi can barely breathe. It hardly matters when you’re so loud that everyone can hear you. What’s important is you’re fucking her—and you’re fucking her hard. You both love the filthiness to it. There’s no rhythm, no pace, no flow; it’s one slow deep thrust, followed by a fast pump into her tight, inviting cunt. You become comfortable; you take her like she’s meant to be used.

And Yuqi takes your cock so fucking well. Bounces against every stroke with ease, as if the feeling is second nature to her. Knowing her, she’s probably been in this position more than you’d want to know or hear. You don’t really care about that for now. Even after what seems to be an endless cascade of orgasms, she’s still keening, still needy, still soaking wet that it’s alarming. Her back arches, melts deep into the cushion. She still wants more.

“So—fucking—good—more—need—fuck—”

The only noise you need is the mesh of your flesh slapping against hers, bouncing against her sharp cries of pain and pleasure. Reaching into the deepest, most sensitive parts of her pussy with your cock, this violent shudder rocks both you and Yuqi to your core. With each drag, more of her slick coats your shaft, and the easier you get access to her smothering heat. You can’t find the will to stop, not that you ever want to; she feels so warm, so inviting, so sloppy sounding to the ears that it’s driving you just as crazy as her.

It’s also driving you wild why it took you this long to fuck her—use her—like this. If you had known, you would have cared sooner. You’d have some leverage when it came to negotiations. A body like hers is too good not to have on speed dial.

Right now, it’s the least of your concerns. Not when you’re pounding a tight body like Yuqi’s so freely, hearing her demand to fuck her harder, like your life’s depending on it. Better late than never.

And it’s for the best that the moment happens later rather than sooner. She cums. Cums again. Eventually you’ve stopped counting, because there’s no point. The mere thought of you restarts the cycle, and your touch accelerates the process. The clutch of her cunt is too overwhelming to avoid at this point; it’s all but directly telling you to fill her, to unload all that pent up tension and need into her. The thought never bubbled up in your head even once; the idea of you and Yuqi with a child together. You never really questioned it. She goes out often, probably gets fucked multiple times in one night if she’s with willing company. She probably knew you’d walk in on her; hell, she’s probably got this whole thing planned out and Minnie is one of her accomplices. Maybe the entire time, she’s been yearning for you, because you’ve never heard her this passionate, this loud, this filthy in your life, even at her most inebriated.

“Inside me. Please cum inside me. I’m safe, don’t worry,” she whispers, as if she’s reading through your mind, reassuring you from your doubts. Her hand is palming your back, as if to line you straight so your cock directly hits her sweet spot. She sounds so pretty, it’s almost impossible to resist.

“Gonna cum,” you tell her, voice going hoarse, rasp, and she nods immediately in return, reinforcing the notion. She’s focused her effort on holding on, her legs tightly wrapped around your waist, her arms coiled around your neck, subtly pushing you against her hips.

“This—pussy—so—fucking—God,” you mindlessly utter, averting her doe eyed gaze, desperate to cling to the last of your resolve as it quickly dissolves with each thrust. You’re on borrowed time and it’s quickly slipping away. Yuqi is tilting your face down to her, to her airy breaths, to her fluttering eyelids, to her passionate expression as you fuck her, pushing you over the edge. “Holy fuck, Yuqi—”

Yuqi’s lips part like a flower in bloom, and it’s a pretty sight. Yet it’s not enough of a distraction to keep everything from falling into place.

And God, it fucking burns.

You swallow hard, but are unable to keep that groan suppressed. Your hips meet her halfway, your cock comfortably buried deep in her heat, and that’s where you come undone. Yuqi digs deep into your skin as it fills her—your cum—and she goes frozen at that moment. It’s a quiet, tense flash of silence. Afterward, she finally breaks. Cries out this deafening whine, her grip all over you loosening, time eventually catching up to her.

She lays beneath you, completely limp, but her body remains trembling, shaking, seizing. You don’t find the strength to drag your cock from her heat; the feeling lingers. Endless ropes of cum gushing into her womb, emptying yourself, just as she wanted. Then you pull out, agonizingly slow, and more viscous slick gushes from her core.

You feel guilty for that poor patch of soaked linen between her legs. It’s about as ruined as a collapsed power plant.

There’s little need for Yuqi to beg you to stay. The climax saps whatever energy you had left. You end up slumping flat on your belly beside her, both of you bathed in the afterglow of sex, exhausted from an already long day, too worn out to make another sound. And when you’re tired, any bed, no matter how messy it may be, is a comfortable bed.

—————

You already expected the scene at the breakfast table to be awkward.

And it was.

It isn’t until Yuqi calls you out standing at the doorway of her room that you realize you’ve been shooting a thousand yard stare the whole time. She waves at you, her cheeks red, flustered, chuckling. “Good morning to you, I guess. Put something on. I don’t wanna drink coffee while looking at someone’s dick. It’s gross.”

This time you’re the one unbecoming, completely in the nude while she got herself into some pajamas. Despite that, you hardly feel any guilt or shame, like this is a normal occurrence in the household. So you scramble to your room and get appropriately dressed. A look at the time and it’s already 15 past ten in the morning, an hour later than when you normally start work. Even more unusual is the absence of the laptop. It’s just Yuqi and her coffee.

Sitting opposite Yuqi, today seems a bit more tense than normal, and you can guess the reason why. She knows it, too. Neither of you are willing to break the ice, only shooting occasional glares at each other while sipping on coffee and scrolling through your phones.

“So, Yuqi.”

The words slip from your mouth, accidental, nearly silent. They follow the mild screech of the chair she sits on. When you meet eye to eye, she asks what’s up. What's on your mind? There’s a sudden barrier in your throat. You have a vague idea of what to say, but not the power to speak them.

“About last night—”

Her lack of response is unnerving. The visible curiosity, the probable apathy. You and her possibly sharing the same sentiment: a feeling of regret.

“I—I just wanted to say sorry. For last night. I should have just—”

“Sorry for what?”

You suddenly stop. This is not the expected reaction; it’s the complete opposite. A moment where you face the consequences of your actions.

Yuqi stands up and walks over to your side, beaming from ear to ear. “What we did last night was—fucking amazing. Don’t feel bad. If anything, I should feel bad because I didn’t tip you off sooner. We could have done so much more.”

You don’t pick up on the implication right away. It’s all strange, uncharted territory. Your previous flings were simple one-and-dones: a night of reckless, frivolous fun. Short, but fun nonetheless. They would disappear in the morning, never to be seen again.

“I didn’t think you’d walk through that door, especially since it was three in the morning,” says Yuqi, casual, running her fingers through your hair. “I got a bit too silly, as usual, but there’s a good reason for it.”

“And that is?”

“I got a job!” Yuqi’s gripping to your shoulder, the only thing keeping her from jumping for joy. “I got a job at the cafe with the pretty lady. I start on Monday.”

It’s certainly a cause for celebration. You can’t help but root and smile for her, caressing her hands. “Well, damn. Congratulations.”

“Yeah!” Yuqi’s wrapped you in a rather heartwarming embrace that you willingly fold into. “I had the interview yesterday, so I needed to lock in. Needed to be alone. Then I got accepted after, so I went and bought some drinks to celebrate.”

That doesn’t surprise you one bit. You’re just thrilled that she’s finally getting somewhere.

“So—does that mean I can kick you out once you get your first paycheck?” you ask her.

“I guess so. But—” Yuqi pauses, tilts your chin on an incline. She’s warm, radiant, pretty. She doesn’t care that you’ve worded yourself poorly and you’re taking it back; she’s still riding off the high from yesterday. You’re already counting the days before she leaves, and admittedly, you’ll miss that sight. “I’m gonna miss staying with you. Thanks for having my back when I needed it. I honestly don’t know how I will ever repay you.”

She tops it up with a quick peck on your lips. It’s all over your face, etched completely in red. The devilish grin.

“I think I know exactly how.”

And that’s all that needed to be said.

Before you know it, you’re right back at square one: clothes scattered everywhere on the floor, her body pressed on the mattress, flat on her belly, your cock stretching her pussy out as you fuck her mindlessly from behind. This time in the comfort of your own bedroom.

All the more reason for you two to stay together.

—————

(A/N: fucksorryforgoingonanotherhiatusfuckfuckfuck—)

(Okay, but I really do wanna apologize for going on yet another unannounced hiatus. Final weeks of the semester were hell, then I was on vacation the week I promised this fic would be released (I'm basically the LeBron James of K-smut when it comes to lying at this point), not to mention a health scare courtesy of my mother. Some very hard times have hit me lately, so my mind wasn't 100%. Nevertheless, I am still standing (shoutout Elton John). Lots of free time throughout June and July, so hopefully nothing bad happens ISTG lemme have some peace for once and let me fucking write goddammit—)

(In non-personal news, Yuqi's solo was very fun and she's getting on that Yena level of bias where she's the perfect blend of cute and hot. Then she went pink recently and that made me :pphurt: Sort of a feel out fic before I *finally* finish these commissions over the coming weeks, thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #gidle #yuqi #song yuqi

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nathaslosthershit · 1 day

Text

A Big Question (Teen Dad!Oscar AU) Part 2

(Read part 1 of this duology first!) (Part 9 of Teen Dad!OP au) Summary: Oscar needs to mend what he broke and he needs to do it fast

Getting into the car, Honey whipped the tears from her cheeks as she made up a lame excuse as to why Oscar wasn’t with her. The driver knew that she wasn’t being truthful, but thought it best to let the girl be. Having dessert and drinks in the picnic basket that Oscar had set up for the two of them after dinner, Honey decided to not let the total night be a bust and have her own moonlight picnic on the beach while she sulked.

Back at the restaurant, Oscar sat alone for a few minutes, digesting what had just happened before he got up and paid the bill. Walking outside, he had expected the car to still be there. Now stressed out, he got his phone to check where the car was heading, a frown appearing as he saw she was on her way to the beach, alone.

While it wasn’t necessarily his decision to go back to racing so soon, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t thrilled that he would once again be in the car. He knew he had fucked up in the past by not prioritizing his family, but he had learned from those tough few months and wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Deciding to let her have some time to process, Oscar ordered a car to take him home. He had expected to get back late and had told Lando to take the guest bedroom. So his friend was also not expecting him home so soon, and when Oscar came home early, alone, and clearly upset, Lando was worried.

“Mate! What happened? Where is she? Did you get to-” Lando jumped up from the couch to meet his teammate at the door.

“No, I was interrogated and let it slip about what my meeting was about and before I could say or do anything, she left the restaurant.”

“Where is she now? Do you know? She could be in trouble, it's late!”

“She took the driver and went to the beach, I assumed she wanted to be alone.” “No, you muppet! You should have absolutely followed her! Why would you let her go off alone when she is upset? She doesn’t even know the full story and you are letting her think the worst.”

Oscar hadn’t thought of that, he probably should have gotten all he wanted to say out first before leaving her alone. God, he was such an idiot to let this happen again. To his credit, Lando was being very helpful. It never dawned on Oscar that he could need relationship advice, for his relationship of 7 years, from Lando Norris himself.

“Fuck, you’re right. But I did leave her, what should I-”

“Go to her! Jesus, Oscar what are you waiting around for, this was supposed to be the perfect night and you fucked it up 45 minutes into it! Fix it now!” With that, Lando shoved his friend out the door.

Driving closer to his average speed on the track rather than the speed limit, Oscar jumped out the car the minute he saw what looked like his girlfriend’s silhouette on the sand. He had spent the short car ride thinking of what he was going to say, how he was going to fix this. The moment she looked up at him though, hiccuping from her cries, everything he had rehearsed went out the window.

Instead he got down on the sand and held her tighter than he had in a long time.

“I don’t want to end up the way we were, Oscar. We were miserable, even before the fight.” She sobbed into his neck.

“I know, sweetheart. I don’t want to end up that way either. Never, ever again.” He replied soothingly, even though he could feel his heart breaking alongside her’s.

“I just felt so alone. Watching you choose your career over me, over the kids! It was so hard to see time and time again. I am not that strong.” “Hey, you are stronger than you know possible, my love. I know I have put you through hell, getting you pregnant at 17, reacting terribly to the news, then making so many empty promises and prioritizing the wrong things. But I promise, Honey, I will never ever make those same mistakes. I meant what I said before, you are it for me. I will never love anyone the way I love you, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for my shortcomings.” He said as he cupped her cheeks, whipping away the tears.

Seeing her smile once again, he reached into his pocket to pull out the box that had been there all night. Her eyes lit up at the realization of what it was.

“Oscar, I-”

“I know this is a terrible time, I am the reason you were sitting here, alone and crying, but this is what I had planned all along. I was, of course, going to tell you about the meeting, but after I did, I wanted to reassure you that I wasn’t going anywhere, that I would never be leaving your side for as long as I live. My career is only going to get more hectic and unpredictable as time goes on, but I am going to go through it with you all as my priorities. I am in it to win, but I am also in it to provide for you all, and I sure as hell am going to return back to you all after every race. I love you so much, Honey, ever since I saw you at that karting track, months before you had even looked at me. I know I said ‘I’d knock your socks off with this second proposal’, and I was going to! But there is nothing more important to me right now than you knowing how much you mean to me, how much the kids mean to me. So please, my love, will you marry me?” He quickly got on one knee and opened the ring box. It was the same ring as before, but he had added two tiny stones onto the band, framing the much larger diamond, on one side was his birthstone, on the other, her own.

Trying to reply had been harder than she thought as all these new emotions of relief and unadulterated happiness caused her to, instead of answering him, sob even harder into his shoulder.

“I know this is a lot, but if its too much, if you don't want to marry m-”

“Yes! Of course I do Oscar! Oh my I- I am just so relieved and emotional I can’t-”

“Shhhh, its okay I promise.” He laughed, tears of his own starting to fall as they held each other.

Several minutes were spent recuperating until Oscar was finally able to slip the ring back onto her finger. “I hope you didn’t eat all the dessert, I was kind of hoping we could eat it together.” Oscar joked.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t touch that. The wine on the other hand-”

They sat in each other’s company well past their usual bedtime, the twins normally tiring them out enough they can’t stay up past 10. But with the engagement firing them up, they were still wide awake as they both stumbled home, deciding in their tipsy state to take the chauffeur and leave Oscar’s car there for the night.

Lando, who had taken to the guest room hours before the happy couple got back, was relieved when he was woken up to giggles being interrupted by what was clearly a make out session. And as he heard the couple close their bedroom door, he decided it was best to put his noise canceling headphones on in order to not scar himself for life, and to let them enjoy their night without any listeners.

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, mclaren, landonorris, and 938,269 others

oscarpiastri Second times the charm or whatever they say. Who cares- I am getting married!

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine

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doctorbitchcrxft · 3 days

Text

Provenance | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y

Word Count: 6703

A/N: Taglist will be closing at the start of season 2! if you aren't currently tagged, and you'd like to join, please please let me know within the next two posts!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You gripped your beer tightly watching Dean getting a girl’s number across the bar from you.

“(Y/N), if you hold that thing any tighter, you’re gonna break it,” Sam snorted. “What’s your deal?”

You looked back at Sam but were unable to pull your eyes from Dean and his new “friend” for longer than a few seconds. “Nothing.” You took a swig of your drink.

“Are you sure you don’t know how you feel about Dean?” the brunet taunted.

You shot him a glare. “Shut up.”

He snickered in response and returned to looking over the papers in front of him.

You waved Dean over, who held a hand up behind the woman’s back to get you to wait. You gestured again and his smile dropped. He said something to her quickly before making his way back over to you.

“I think we got something,” Sam told his brother.

Dean grinned over his shoulder. “Oh, yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave; just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one.”

You rolled your eyes. “So, what are we today, Dean? Rock stars, army rangers?”

“Reality TV scouts,” he grinned at you, ignoring the bite in your voice. “Looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right?”

“If by ‘not far off’ you mean ‘completely off the mark,’ then you’re spot on,” you deadpanned.

Dean shot you a look while he turned to his brother. “By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?”

“Dean, no thanks, I can get my own dates,” Sam responded to his question.

“Yeah, you can, but you don't.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Dean shook his head. “Nothing. What you got?”

“Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home, a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all—” He trailed off as his brother looked back at the women at the bar.

“Dean!” you snapped your fingers at him.

He turned back. “Huh, what?”

“No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows locked from the inside,” Sam continued.

“Could just be a garden variety murder, you know, not our department,” Dean answered.

“No. Dad says different.”

“What do you mean?” Dean’s interest was piqued at the mention of his dad.

You pointed at the map. “John noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second, right here in 1945, and the third in 1970. Same M.O. as the Telescas. Throats slit, doors locked from the inside; the whole nine. Now, so much time passed that nobody checked the pattern. Except for your dad. It’s frustrating how much better he is at this than me sometimes,” you muttered at the end of your sentence.

“Alright, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up ‘til first thing though right?” Dean asked, trying to contain his excitement.

“Yeah,” Sam answered.

“Good.” Before you could stop him, Dean was off to the two women again.

You were fuming; staring daggers at him and downing the rest of your drink.

Sam snickered at you. “Let’s get you out of here before you end up killing one of those girls.”

“Nah, I’d kill your brother. They didn’t do anything wrong,” you responded, helping Sam pick up the papers scattered about the table. “How ‘bout the Telescas’ house?” you asked.

***

You and Sam headed back to the motel you were staying in to research the history of the Telescas’ home. You sprawled out across Dean’s bed with your laptop, and Sam sat on his bed with his laptop.

“Finding anything?” you asked him.

“Nope. You?”

You shook your head. “Nada.”

He shut his laptop. “So? You wanna talk about it?”

You shut yours, too. “About what?”

“Dean?”

“Oh, hell no,” you snorted.

“You two are made for each other,” he deadpanned at your boxed-up emotions.

“Fuck off, Sam,” you retorted. “What about you? Still not ready to jump back into the dating pool?” You snuggled into the blankets on Dean’s bed, reveling in his scent emanating off them.

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What was she like?” you asked after a moment.

“Who?”

“Jessica. You never told me much about her.”

He sighed. “She was just… the best, man. You two would’ve gotten along great, honestly. She was—” he grinned sadly at the thought of her, “—so smart. So beautiful. Quick, witty, and…” he shook his head. “I was looking for wedding rings. Few weeks before she...”

You smiled sadly at him. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he responded. A quiet settled over the room.

“Don’t you think she would’ve wanted you to be… I don’t know, happy? Do you think she’d want you to move on? It’s been almost a year,” you said. “Jesus, I’ve known you guys for almost a year now," you realized.

He chuckled before going quiet again momentarily. “I think she would. But Jess… I don’t know if I’ll ever be fully over her. She was my best friend, y’know?”

You nodded. “I get it. I’m glad you had that with her, though. Sounds like you really loved each other.”

“We did.”

You and Sam went silent once more, and you succumbed to the tiredness of your limbs and mind. You were so comforted by the scent of worn leather, Dean’s cologne, and whiskey, that you slept better than you had in years.

***

When you woke up the next morning, Sam was standing over you, shaking you gently. You popped up and grabbed his wrist, twisting it and putting a hand to his throat. “Hey, hey,” he tried to calm you down, “Dean’s back.”

You released him immediately. “Sorry, dude. Uh… reflexes,” you laughed awkwardly.

“It’s okay. Dean does that, too.”

The man in question stumbled into the room tiredly. “Move your asses. Let’s go.”

***

You and Sam had just swept the Telescas’ house for EMF while Dean slept in the car trying to get over his hangover. When you returned to the car, you beeped the horn. Dean shot up a foot in the air and groaned.

“Man, that is so not cool.” He adjusted his sunglasses and leaned back against the car door. You and Sam climbed into your seats and began to explain what you had been up to.

“We just swept the Telescas with EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were, well, out—” Sam trailed off.

Dean’s smirk made your stomach drop. “Good times.”

“—we checked the history of the house.”

“Nothing strange about the Telescas, either,” you said, swallowing your feelings.

“Alright,” Dean’s gravelly voice came, “so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something.”

“The house is clean,” you said.

“Yeah I know, you said that.”

“No, no, it’s empty. No furniture, nothing,” you explained.

Dean turned back to you. “Where's all their stuff?”

***

You felt so out of place in the swanky auction house the Telescas’ belongings had been brought to. Even the Impala looked like an outcast in the parking lot full of McLarens and Corvettes.

You and the brothers wandered around the auction house, and you wrapped your jacket tightly around yourself.

“Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me,” Dean commented. He took some food from a tray table as a man came up behind you.

“Can I help you?” the man questioned.

You wheeled around to face him.

“I'd like some champagne please,” Dean said in a mock posh voice.

You could’ve killed him. “He’s not a waiter.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow at you, and you held out your hand to the man. “I’m (Y/N) Dewitt. This is Sam and Dean Connors. We’re with Connors Limited. We’re art dealers.”

The man didn’t give you the courtesy of a handshake. You fought the urge to make an inappropriate comment.

“You. Are… art dealers,” the man said, clearly having difficulty grasping that concept. “I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list.”

“We're there, Chuckles, you just need to take another look.” Dean, of course, talked through a mouth full of food.

You shot a sharp look at Dean as he took a glass of champagne off the tray. He turned and walked off, and you followed him.

“Can you chill out?” you asked him.

“What?” he asked through a mouthful of champagne.

You rolled your eyes. “You know what I’m talking about. I don’t like this crowd either, but relax.” You noticed a painting just beyond where you and Dean were talking. It was of a family in an American Gothic style; presumably from the early 1900s. The family contained three young girls in frilly dresses, a man with a gaunt and creepy face, and a woman you assumed was the mother seated in a chair.

“A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?” a woman’s voice called from behind you.

You turned to the place the voice came from to find an extremely good looking woman in a sleek black dress with glossed lips descending the staircase. You noticed Dean beginning to ogle her as Sam answered her. “Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses. But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did.”

The woman smiled as she approached you. “Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake.”

“I’m Sam,” he said. “This is my… brother, Dean.” Dean was still stuffing his face with food from passing trays. “And our friend, (Y/N).”

“Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?” Sarah questioned.

You snorted. You liked her.

“I'm good, thanks,” he smiled through a full mouth.

“So, can I help you with something?” she asked Sam. You knew she liked him; she was giving him the same look you often gave Dean.

“Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?” Sam asked her.

She grimaced. “The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones.”

“Is it possible to see the provenances?” Sam asked.

The man from earlier came up behind you. “I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that.”

“Why not?” you asked.

“You're not on the guest list. And I think it's time to leave.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your polite disposition. “Don’t have to tell us twice.”

“Apparently, I do,” he said.

“C’mon, Dean,” you said, dragging his arm out.

***

You and the brothers found a decently priced motel and approached the rooms you had been assigned.

“Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?” Dean scoffed at his brother.

“Art history course. It's good for meeting girls,” Sam replied simply.

Dean unlocked the door to his room and chuckled. “It's like I don't even know you.”

You walked a little further down to the room next to theirs and unlocked it only to find a gaudily outfitted room full of obnoxious disco decor. The "do not disturb" hanger was even of John Travolta’s silhouette from Saturday Night Fever.

“Huh.” You dropped your bag off and headed back to the boys’ room.

“What was… providence?” Dean was asking as you entered the room.

“Provenance,” you corrected. “It’s like a biography for a painting. You use ‘em to check the history of the pieces; in this case, to see if they have a freaky past.”

“Alright, professor,” Dean taunted you. “Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah…” he smirked at his brother.

“Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin,” Sam smirked back.

“Not me,” Dean laughed.

You shot a look at Sam, too.

He seemed only mildly horrified. “No, no, no, pickups are your thing, Dean.”

“It wasn't my butt she was checking out,” Dean snorted.

You giggled despite yourself.

“In other words, you want me to use her to get information,” Sam deadpanned.

“Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her,” Dean instructed his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes, but took out his phone. You weren’t sure when he had gotten her number, but he left about an hour later to take her out to dinner.

You and Dean sat in awkward silence for a bit.

“So…”

You went silent again.

“What’s goin’ on with us, (Y/N)? You’ve barely spoken a word to me this whole trip.”

You huffed. “Nothing.”

“Obviously, it’s not nothing.” Dean held your challenging stare.

“Seriously, drop it, please,” you said.

“Fine. You wanna go get some food?”

You smiled despite yourself. “You know I do.”

You and Dean found a crappy diner with deliciously greasy burgers to stuff your faces with.

“So, how ‘bout you, sweetheart? Why don’t you ever go out?” Dean asked.

“On dates, you mean?”

He nodded.

You nibbled on a fry. “I’m just not one for hookups. I can’t take ‘em,” you admitted. “You, though, are king of the unattached drifters.”

He chuckled. “What’s wrong with hookups?

“I get too attached, which kind of defeats the whole purpose,” you replied. “The idea of being intimate with somebody I don’t even know makes me want to throw up.”

“Why? You’re gorgeous. Anybody would kill to get with you," he said casually.

You ignored the way your heart swelled in your chest. “It’s not that, it’s just…” you sighed. “I’m, like, allergic to vulnerability.”

“I get it,” Dean chuckled. “You know by now I’m not exactly the best with it, either.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re worse than me,” you quipped. “You look like you’re gonna throw up any time you have to tell me you’re sorry or something like that.”

“Maybe it’s just your face,” he retorted.

“Hey!” you giggled. “You can’t call me gorgeous one minute then tell me looking at me makes you sick the next.”

He chuckled. “I just did, so…”

“Whatever, Winchester. What is it about hookups you enjoy so much, anyway?”

He shrugged and took a bite of his burger. “Sex is just fun, I guess. Always helps me blow off steam.”

You scoffed. “I’m sure it does.”

“I’m serious! Helps me take a break from… all this.” He gestured around him.

“That’s why you have hobbies, Dean. Sex is not a hobby.”

“It can be! You draw, Sam reads, I fuck."

“Well, get a better one,” you scoffed.

“What would you suggest I do? Knitting?”

You rolled your eyes. “No, just… something a little more wholesome, maybe. You said it yourself, it doesn’t always make you feel great.”

“Never should’ve told you that,” he responded.

“Well, ya did, so.”

He snorted at you. “It’s frustrating how well you know me sometimes.”

“Oh, look at that, another crumb of vulnerability from Mr. Closed Book.”

“That’s the best diss you could come up with?”

“Hey, it’s not easy being effortlessly funny all the time,” you retorted. “It’s a lot of pressure.”

***

When you and Dean returned to the motel room, you pulled out your whetstone to sharpen your knives.

“Who you plannin’ on carvin’ up, sweetheart?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” you answered.

“Remind me not to piss you off,” he remarked.

“You do literally all the time,” you quipped. “You’re lucky you’re still in one piece. If you give me yours, I’ll sharpen ‘em, too.”

“Thanks,” he said. He handed his knives over to you.

Sam burst through the door at that moment holding a stack of papers. “Got ‘em.”

“So she just handed the providences over to you?” Dean questioned.

“Provenances,” you corrected.

“We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers—”

Dean raised his eyebrows expectantly. “And?”

“And nothing. That's it. I left.”

“You didn't have to con her or do any… special favors or anything like that?” Dean questioned.

“Dean, would you get your mind out of the gutter, please?” the younger brother scoffed.

“You know when this whole thing's done, we could stick around for a little bit,” he suggested.

“Why?”

“So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her, even I could see that.”

Sam ignored his brother. “Hey, I think I've got something here.”

You headed over to Sam’s seated position at the desk and looked over his shoulder at the papers. “ ‘Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910’,” you read off.

“Now, compare the names of the owners with my dad's journal,” Sam said.

Dean pulled it out. “First purchased in 1912, Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970.”

“Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it,” Sam continued.

“So what do you think? It's haunted? Or cursed?” you asked.

“Either way, it's toast,” said Dean, getting up from his bed.

***

Under the cover of night, you and the brothers broke into the auction house. You were consistently impressed with and sexually frustrated by how easy scaling tall fences and gates were for Dean.

“Come on!” Dean urged you.

You disarmed the security alarm, wearing gloves to avoid leaving fingerprints. “Go ahead,” you whispered.

Dean picked the lock at your cue. You shone your flashlight ahead of you searching for the painting. When you found it, you and the boys were in and out within minutes. You and the boys had clearly been breaking and entering for years. You found it comical almost how good you were. You brought the painting out to a field behind the arthouse and set it alight.

Dean dusted off his hands. “Ugly ass thing. If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor.”

***

Dean banged on your door the next morning. “We got a problem. I can't find my wallet.”

You opened it. “How the hell do you lose your wallet?”

“I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night.”

“Fuck, dude, that’s bad.” You started pulling on your boots as he paced around the room.

“Yeah, I know. It's got my prints, my ID— well, my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on.”

You and the brothers hurried around the auction house searching for the wallet. Sam was clearly frustrated with his brother until he caught sight of Sarah.

“Hey guys!” she smiled.

You wheeled around at the sound of her voice and attempted to act cool.

“Sarah! Hey,” Sam breathed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Ahh, we.... we are leaving town and, you know, we came to say goodbye,” Sam responded.

“What are you talking about Sam, we're sticking around for at least another day or two,” Dean grinned as he strolled up to the two. He took his wallet out of his pocket and shot a look at Sam. “By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that $20 I owe you.” He turned to Sarah. “I always forget, you know.” Dean chuckled and you grinned as he held out the cash to his brother. Sam took it and glared at him. “Well, we’ll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta go do something… somewhere.”

“Smooth, Dean,” you told him as you walked away from Sarah and Sam. The two of you headed back out to the Impala and sat in it waiting for Sam. When he returned, he was frantically saying the painting was back in the auction house.

“I don't understand. We burned the damn thing,” Sam rushed out.

“Yeah, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Dean remarked.

“Alright, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?” you chimed in.

“Well, um, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts 'em,” Sam began.

“Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?”

“Merchant,” you answered. “I say we find us a bookstore.”

***

And so, that was where you headed. You found a proprietor whose personality was interesting, to say the least. You found his quirk had a bit of charm to it.

“You said the Isaiah Merchant family right?” he asked you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sam said.

You and Dean were flicking through a book with pictures of guns in it. The proprietor laid a book of newspaper clippings on the table in front of you. “I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So, are you folks crime buffs?”

“Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?” you responded.

He held up the newspaper article before him. It talked about the sinking of the Titanic, and just next to it, read “Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself.”

“Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right,” Dean replied.

“The whole family was killed?” You tilted your head.

“It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor,” the proprietor explained.

“Why'd he do it?” Sam questioned.

“Let's look. Ahh... ‘People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, uh, two sons, adopted daughter…’ “ he skimmed on. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… ‘There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave.’ Which of course you know in that day and age, um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave.” He drew his hand across his throat and made a noise to go along with it. You and Dean joined in laughing with the proprietor.

“Does it say what happened to the bodies?” asked Dean.

The proprietor shook his head. “Just that they were all cremated.”

“Anything else?” you asked.

“Yeah. Actually, I found a picture of the family. It's right here. Somewhere. Right— here it is.”

It was a picture of the painting, but something seemed off to you.

“Hey, could we get a copy of this please?” Sam asked the man.

He nodded, and returned a few minutes later with it.

***

You and the boys sat at a table in the motel room and looked over the copy of the picture.

“I’m telling you,” you started, “The picture at the auction house, Dad’s looking down. Here, dad’s looking out. The painting changed.”

“Alright, so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like he did with his family?” Dean questioned.

“Well, yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted, then how are we gonna stop him?” Sam asked.

“Maybe other things changed in the painting, too. Maybe it could give us some clues,” you answered.

“What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?” Sam asked.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Dean looked down at you, confused. “I’m lost. Still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting.” He walked over to his bed and laid back, crossing his arms. “Which is a good thing ‘cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend.”

Sam huffed. “Dude, enough already.”

“What?” he responded.

“What? Ever since we got here, you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?” he said defensively.

“Sam, relax,” you told him.

“Well, you like her don't you?” Dean pushed.

Sam threw his arms up and looked to the ceiling.

“Alright, you like her, she likes you, you’re both consenting adults…” Dean trailed off with a smile.

“What's the point, Dean? We'll just leave. We always leave,” came Sam’s frustrated response.

“Well, I'm not talking about marriage, Sam.”

Sam snarled angrily. “You know, I don't get it. What do you care if I hook up?”

“ ‘Cause then maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time,” Dean answered calmly.

Sam stared at him and huffed before looking away.

“Look, I’m not crazy about hookups either, but maybe it would be helpful,” you suggested.

“And this isn't about just hooking up, okay?” Dean continued. “I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you. And... I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure this is about Jessica, right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that, but... I would think that she would want you to be happy.” Sam’s eyes welled with tears as his brother continued to talk. “God forbid, have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?”

“Yeah, I know she would,” Sam responded softly. “Yeah, you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part.”

“What’s it about?” you asked.

He wouldn’t answer you.

“Well, we still gotta see that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so…” Dean trailed off.

Sam picked up his phone and cleared his throat. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes, settling back on his bed.

“Sarah, hey, it's Sam… Hey, hi… Good. Good, yeah. Umm. What about you?... Yeah good, good, really good.”

Dean opened one eye and looked at his brother. “Smooth.”

You suppressed a laugh.

“So, ah, so listen,” Sam continued. “Me and my brother were, uh, thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I- I think maybe we are interested in buying it… What?!”

At Sam’s tone, you and Dean snapped to attention.

“Who'd you sell it to?” Sam stood up.

Dean rose and came to stand next to you.

“Sarah, I need an address right now,” Sam urged her.

Once she’d given it to you, you and the boys sped away in the Impala to an upscale neighborhood. You and the boys were surprised to see another car parked right outside the building: Sarah’s.

“Sam, what's happening?” she asked as you and the boys ran up the front steps of the house.

“I told you, you shouldn't have come,” he responded.

“Hello, anyone home?” Dean banged on the heavy front door.

“You said Evelyn might be in danger; what sort of danger?” Sarah asked Sam frantically.

“I can't knock this sucker down. I gotta pick it.” Dean crouched down in front of you and you moved over to the windows, banging on them with all your might.

“What are you guys, burglars?” Sarah yelped.

“I wish it was that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good,” Sam told her.

Dean got the door open and you followed him inside quickly.

“The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend,” she said, trailing behind you and the boys. “Evelyn?” She moved over to the elderly woman sitting half-turned away from you. Something was wrong and you knew it; the woman’s gaze seemed completely empty. “Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?” She touched her shoulder gently.

“Sarah, don't. Sarah!” Sam told her.

Evelyn’s head tipped back, exposing her slashed throat.

Sarah jumped back in horror and screamed. Sam put his arm around her and led her out of the room. You and Dean stared up at the painting before following the younger brother out of the house.

***

Back in the motel room, you and Dean clacked away at the keys on your laptops while Sam paced in front of you. A knock on the door stirred all of you from your thoughts. Sarah stormed into the room and brushed past Sam.

“Hey. You alright?” he asked her.

“No, actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's— alone— and found her like that,” she answered, wheeling around.

“Thank you,” Sam nodded.

“Don't thank me. I'm about to call them right back if you don't tell me what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?”

Sam looked back at you and Dean, and you shrugged.

“What,” he told her.

“What?”

“It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people,” he explained.

Sarah was still looking at Sam like he was insane.

“Sarah, you saw that painting move,” he sighed.

The woman began to pace. “No, no. I was— I was seeing things. It's impossible.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to our world,” Dean grinned.

“Sarah, I know this sounds crazy, but we think that that painting is haunted.”

Sarah laughed humorlessly but had tears in her eyes. “You’re joking.” She looked between you and the Winchesters. “You're not joking. God, the guys I go out with.”

“Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes, people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth,” the brunet told her.

“Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you,” she said matter-of-factly.

“What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and… and I don't want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

“Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Well, me and my Dad sold that painting that might have gotten these people killed. Look, I'm not saying I'm not scared, because I am scared as hell, but I'm not going to run and hide either.” Sarah strutted over to the door. “So are we going or what?” She walked out.

“Sam?” Dean said. “Marry that girl.”

***

You and the boys returned to Evelyn’s house to scope out the crime scene a little further. Sam picked the lock to let you, his brother, and Sarah inside.

“Uh, isn’t this a crime scene?” Sarah protested.

Dean smirked. “You've already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?”

Once inside, you and Sam got the painting down from off the wall to examine it.

“Aren't you worried that it's gonna kill us?” Sarah asked.

“Nah, it seems to do its thing at night. I think we're alright in the daylight.”

You took the copy of the painting out of your pocket. “Sam, check it out. The razor: it's closed in this one, but it's open in that one.”

“What are you guys looking for?” she asked.

“Well, if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, then it's doing so for a reason,” Dean explained.

“And look, the painting in the painting,” you pointed out. “Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something.”

Dean grabbed a thick glass ashtray and used it as a magnifying glass. You ignored how your body came alight as he wound his arm around you to reach the painting. “Merchant,” he read out.

***

Your next stop was a graveyard. Several, in fact. You stepped over gravestones carefully to avoid disrespecting the dead even further.

“What, are you superstitious?” Dean asked.

“A little, actually. I think I’m in such deep shit with the spirits already; I don’t wanna make it worse,” you laughed.

“You are somethin’ else, woman,” he smirked. “This is the third boneyard we've checked,” Dean addressed your group. “I think this ghost is jerking us around.”

Sam and Sarah talked amongst themselves behind you and you and Dean walked a bit ahead.

“Over there,” you said, pointing to a mausoleum. The group followed you into the mausoleum where you found four urns in front of little glass-fronted boxes on one wall. On the opposite, there were five brass nameplates.

Sarah looked at one of the boxes containing a little porcelain doll with brown hair. “Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've ever seen.”

“It was a sort of tradition at the time,” Sam told her. “Whenever a child died, sometimes they'd preserve the kid's favorite toy in a glass case; put it next to the headstone or crypt.”

Wind blew in the mausoleum, sending a chill down your spine.

“Notice anything strange here?” Dean asked.

“Ah, where do I start?” remarked Sarah.

Sam snickered.

“No, that's not what I mean. Look at the urns,” said Dean.

“Yeah. There’s only four. Where’s the dad?” you questioned.

***

You and Dean discovered that Isaiah’s body had been buried in that same cemetery away from the rest of his family. You returned there that night with Sarah in tow.

You stood watch with Sarah while the boys dug the hole down to Isaiah’s corpse.

“You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this,” she said.

Sam climbed out of the hole laboriously. “Well, ah, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug. Still think I'm a catch?”

You giggled when Dean’s shovel tapped something hard. “Think I've got something.” He cracked the coffin open to reveal Isaiah’s rotten bones. You helped him out of the ground and began pouring salt and kerosene over the body.

“You've been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah. Good riddance.” Dean tossed the match he’d struck down on top of the body.

“God, I will never get used to that smell,” you commented.

“What? Burning flesh?” the older Winchester turned his head to you.

You made a face and scrunched up your nose to which Dean just smirked at you and chuckled.

***

You returned to Evelyn’s house soon after to make sure the job was complete and bury the painting. You and Dean remained outside and told Sam to go in with Sarah. You and Dean smiled at each other before turning the radio up. A love ballad played loudly through the speakers, and Sam turned to the two of you. You both snickered at the “what the fuck” gesture he was giving you. Sam motioned for the two of you to cut the music. You sighed and turned it off.

Before you and Dean could say a word to each other, the door slammed shut behind Sam and Sarah. You and Dean jumped out of the car and ran across the lawn, trying your best to unlock it.

“Guys! Hey! Is that you?” Sam called from inside.

“Sammy, you alright?” the older brother asked. Moments later, you got a call from Sam.

“Tell me you slammed the front door,” you said after you answered.

“Nope, it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl,” he told you.

“The little girl? What girl?”

“What’s he saying?” Dean interjected, leaning close to your ear and the phone.

“Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along,” Sam said.

You snorted humorlessly. “The dad was trying to warn us all along. He was looking down at her the whole time.”

“Hey, hey, hey, let's recap later all right? Just get us out of here," the younger brother rushed out.

“Well, Dean’s trying to pick the lock, but the door won’t budge.”

“Well, knock it down!”

“Okay, smartass, just let me get my battering ram,” you remarked.

“(Y/N), the damn thing is coming!”

“I know, I know, just hold it off til we figure something out. Get some salt or iron or something,” you responded. “Stay on the phone with me!”

Moments later, you heard Sam say to himself, “What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks.” Another minute or so went by before he spoke back into the phone. “Uh, (Y/N), give me a sec, don't go anywhere.”

You and Dean began to walk around the outside looking for an alternative entrance. A bit of yelling and crashing was heard on the other end of the phone. “You okay, dude?”

“Yeah, for now,” he responded.

“How’re we gonna waste her?” you asked.

“I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn.”

Dean got close to the phone again.

“Then how's she still around?” you challenged.

“There must be something else!” Sam went silent on the other end, but you could faintly hear Sarah’s voice.

“(Y/N), Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains; same as bones.”

“The mausoleum,” you and Dean said in unison.

“Hang tight, Sam,” you said, snapping your phone shut. You and Dean sprinted back to the car, and Dean drove as fast and as wildly as he possibly could.

“One of these days, your driving’s gonna fucking kill us all,” you said, gripping the leather of the seat next to you and the door.

“Not now, (Y/N),” he responded evenly, driving even faster. He plowed straight through the fence of the cemetery and drove right up to the mausoleum. You and Dean jumped out of the car and hurried into the building.

Dean pounded the door of the glass box containing the doll with the butt of his gun, and then went to walk out of the mausoleum. “Come on, Dean,” he grimaced. “Cover your eyes!” He told you. He shot at the box, and you shielded your face as he did so. You leapt back into action and knocked away more of the glass with your hands, cutting them as you did so. You ignored the burning in your palms and took the doll out of its case.

You held the doll’s hair over the lighter, which Dean was having trouble lighting. “Come on, come on!” he said. Thankfully, the lighter caught the hairs of the doll and sent it up in flames. You dropped it on the floor between you and Dean and watched the rest of the doll burn.

Dean pulled out his phone moments later to call his brother. “Sam, you good?” He breathed a sigh of relief and hung up the phone.

You looked down at your bloodied hands. Dean followed your gaze. “(Y/N), you maniac, what were you doin’ pawin' at that glass with your bare hands, huh?”

“It seemed like a good idea in the moment,” you mumbled.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?” He guided you back to the car. He held your wrists and sat you down in the front seat of his car. He went to his trunk and returned a few moments later. He sat next to you and gingerly began wiping down your hands. You hissed and grabbed his hand at the pain. He looked back up to you and paused momentarily.

“Sorry,” you said.

“All good,” he responded and went back to work. He gently cleaned your wounds with an alcohol-soaked rag and began to wrap up your left hand. You watched as he worked, heart swelling at the kind gesture.

“Thank you,” you said.

“You’d do the same for me,” he muttered.

“I would,” you affirmed, smiling.

He picked a piece of glass out of your right hand. You hissed again.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry,” he said. “This one’s probably gonna need stitches.” He handed you his flask. “Drink this.”

You did as told and took a sip, swallowing sharply as you felt the first prick of the needle in your palm. “I’m not trying to be a little bitch. I’m really not when it comes to pain,” you said. “I can finish stitchin’ me up on my own if you wanna get back to Sam—”

“No. Let me,” he responded authoritatively. He looked up through his eyelashes at you before returning his attention to your fingers. He ran his along yours and gingerly cleaned the cuts, giving special attention to the deeper ones before bandaging the exterior of your hands. You flexed them painfully.

“Thank you. Seriously,” you said softly.

“Any time,” he responded.

***

“This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter, Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? 'Cause her real family was murdered in their beds," Dean explained to you. “Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since.”

“Huh,” you said. “Psycho bitch.”

He scoffed. “You know you’re talking about a kid, right?”

“Yeah. Psycho bitch all the same.”

You and Dean were waiting outside of the auction house for Sam to finish talking to Sarah. You and he leaned against the car, watching Sarah and Sam talking at the door. Sam turned away from her before turning back moments later. He grabbed Sarah’s waist and pulled him to her, kissing her deeply.

“That's my boy,” Dean smiled.

“Alright, perv,” you remarked. You shoved him down into the car.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h

quite a few tags are broken; so sorry, my loves!! make sure you have my blog notifs on so you don't miss a chapter, and please let me know if ive misspelled your blog name!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

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mischelmayleys · 19 hours

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CHAPTER 2

As Ingird let me through their apartment I noticed how spot on it was. Everything had its place and was dusted off. A cat came to sniff my legs as we entered, making me bend down and pat its fur letting out a soft smile at the bal of fur.

“Okay so your room is right next to ours so if you need anything you can just come to us.” Ingrid explained as she opened the door to the room.

It was mostly a bare room with a nice king size bed in the middle and TV right on the opposite wall. As we walked it I spotted the big window where in front of it was a dest with some plants and a laptop.

“We didn’t know if you needed a laptop for school or not, but we figured you can just use it for whatever you want. It has netflix in it as well as the TV.” Ingird explained, probably seeing me eyeing it.

I didn’t know what to say: “I…thank you.”

She smiled softly at me and went to put a hand on my shoulder which made me flinch: “Hey don’t worry I just wanted to dust off your top.” She pointed her finger on my shoulder which had a bit of blood on it from the fight yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just um…” I started to say but Maria came literally running into the room with my bags on her shoulders.

“I don’t know if Ingrid already told you but we can do whatever you want with the room, we can paint the wall or buy new sheets, some decorations?” She was rambling and it made me look at Ingrid for help.

“Maria calm down, she just got here.” Maria stopped talking and apologized.

“It is okay. Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked not knowing where it was.

Ingrid nodded and pointed to a door in the back of my room: “There, it’s just yours.” I stared at her in shock. Did I just get my own room WITH a bathroom?

“We will let you settle down a bit, if you need anything we are in the kitchen.” Maria said and they left me alone.

I breathed out as they closed the door and I looked at my hands. They were bruised and they hurt less than yesterday but it started to get worse again due to me picking up the skin on my fingers. With a shaky breath I went to the bathroom, and carefully washed my hands under the water. It stinged and I hissed.

I replied to the fight in my head, it wasn’t my fault…I was just protecting myself. I might not have friends in school but outside it was better. Rodrigo was one of my closest friends to many people. He seemed like a bad person, but he was a sweet guy deep down. We met when I was at my first foster home when I was seven and he was ten. I saw him in a park where he had just fallen from his skateboard and I went to help him and since then we were attached to him until he started to hang out with the wrong people.

He is twenty now to my sixteen, and still he is my rock. I came to his flat more than I was to my different foster parents. And the fight happened because of him.

Flashback:

I was sitting next to Rodrigo on a couch as he smoked some weed and I just casually smoked cigarettes. His other friends were split all over his place and just doing nothing at all.

“So…you ran away again.” Rodrigo said to me as he turned my way.

I nod: “Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Get myself killed.” he gave me a soft smile and put his hand on my thigh: “Don’t worry, you can stay here if you want.”

I chuckled a bit: “Nah, I don’t think your friends would appreciate me sleeping in here.”

“You are right, we don’t want this chick sleeping here.” Someone from the other side of the room yelled as Rodrigo went to stand up and defend me but I pulled him back down: “don’t.” He huffed and sat down but couldn’t keep his mouth shut: “Shut up Diego, you bring here sluts and I can’t have here my friend?!”

It was the wrong move and from that time on, one of the only things I remember is that Diego hit first. They were punching each other hard and somehow I stood up and went to split them up.

And that was when Diego grabbed me so to my self defense I hit.

The only other thing I remember is police breaking into the apartment and separating us from each other.

I shook my head as a shiver went down my spine. I stopped the water and walked back into my room and took it all in again.

The fresh sheets.

The Tv and laptop looked completely brand new.

There was a thing I didn’t acknowledge the first time.

It was a framed Barcelona jersey. It had Alexia along with the number 11 written on the back. Alexia…Alexia… I tried to think about where I heard it before. I took out my phone and went to google it until I realized I didn’t have any wifi or data. I sigh and go to the laptop placed on the table and carefully open it. It was connected to a which I assumed was Ingrids and Maria's wifi.

I opened google and wrote about Alexia Fc Barcelona. So much information came up, that’s when I realized it’s THE Alexia, which people in my old school were always talking about. Alexia was the best footballer in the world. It’s not like I didn’t know that Barcelona had a female team, I just never had the opportunity to see them play, I never had a Tv before or money to go to see them play. There was one picture that caught my eye. It was a full squad photo, that’s when I saw them…Ingrid and Maria both being in the picture dressed in their very own kit.

I am living with famous football players…

I didn’t know if that was good or not. They are probably going to travel all the time and not have time for me…great so no need to get close to them. Since they are public figures, they wouldn't hurt a kid…at least I hoped so.

I closed the google and leaned back into the chair. What am I supposed to do now? Unpack?

The question in my head was quickly answered when my phone ding with a message.

Rodrigo: Come over?

I pursued my lips and looked at the closed door and then out of the window. It had the railing and stairs there…great way for escape.

INGRID POV:

Eliza was quiet in her room, we thought she would come out by now to eat dinner, but we didn’t want her to feel pressured so we stayed at the table waiting for her.

Mapi was texting away on her phone when she suddenly put it down: “I am going to look at her.” I nod as I waited.

She came quickly running back to me.

I frowned: “Why are you running what happened?”

Mapi had a worried look on her face: “She is not in her room.”

I quickly stood up: “What do you mean? Maybe she is just in the bathroom.”

“No, she is not anywhere and the window is open so I think she sneaked out.” Mapi said as she sat down on the chair and put her head into her hands. I ran my hand through her hair.

“Well…we know what the social worker told us. We are going to wait for her return.” I said quietly not really believing we won’t go looking for her

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #mapi leon #woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #teenage reader #alexia putellas

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melodymunson · 2 days

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Pour some sugar on me- Eddie Munson x fem reader x fem OC feat. Steve Harrington

Featuring Steve Harrington

summary- You and your friend Luna are back from vacation in Florida and going back to your now home upstate until your car breaks down in Hawkins Indiana. Thankfully mechanic Eddie is there to save the day. When you can't afford to pay him you can return the favor in other ways. (Reader knew Eddie in high school. Reader, friend, and Eddie are all in their 30s.) There is an appearance from Steve near the end and a sexy time with him.

warnings: NSFW lesbian sex, eating pussy, car sex, p in v vaginal sex, protected sex, threesome (all with Eddie). Double blowjob (with Steve).

ao3 link

5.8K words

The trip to Florida was amazing- the beach every day, sun tanning, nightclubs, drinking, getting high, and lots of time at the private pools. When you get to the Indiana state border, your car breaks down. Your good friend Luna, being there at least, made it so that you wouldn't have to deal with this alone. You had to stop by a mechanic shop and soon.

You never thought you would be back in Hawkins, Indiana, once again the town you hated. You were the popular girl at Hawkins High School, yet you hated it. Your best friend was also popular, but the first chance you had to go away to college in Chicago, you left and never looked back. The only thing you missed was Eddie.

Eddie was in town hopefully because you wanted to see him at least. In high school, you bought the best weed ever from him. Corroded Coffin always put on the best shows at the Hideout and you were so happy to have him as a friend. Unfortunately, you lost touch but something told you as you drove through town and saw flyers of Corroded Coffin and a show they had upcoming soon; you were more than ready to see him again.

Pulling into a nearby mechanic station at Hawkins city limits, you were glad it was open. It was 5 in the afternoon, and even though it was summer; it was a Sunday, and the shop was thankfully, open. When you pulled your SUV up to the station, you noticed Eddie instantly. He was wearing his denim Dio vest, ripped black jeans, and curly long brown locks of hair along with tattoos you recognized- it was Eddie Munson.

As soon as he pulled his head from the hood, you knew it was him. Eddie waved to you as you parked with a big smile on his face. Getting out of the Corvette, you walked up near the vehicle he was working on with your friend following you close behind. Seeing Eddie again after all these years, you felt like it was an act of fate.

Holding his fingers up to signal to wait a minute, he looked under the hood. The vacation you just had was a lot of fun. Now you were close to being back home and having Eddie here with you, and it was a great way to end a good vacation. Whispering to your friend, you said into her ear.

"I think he got even hotter than he was in high school."

To this, she responded by giggling. Eddie glowed up.

"I agree. He's very hot," she whispered back.

Eddie cleared his throat as he wiped his hand on a black skull bandanna.

"Well, you need a tune-up or something more serious? And I recognize you."

"It's y/n from Hawkins High and this is my friend from Hawkins Luna. We have engine troubles. Just got back from a girl's trip in Florida."

Eddie was checking you out but trying not to make it so obvious. All you had on, after all, was a bikini and short shorts. Luna did as well. It was a beach trip, after all.

"I'll do my best. Well, then I can begin working on it. After all, it's Sunday, and not much else to do around here. Only open mechanic in town on a Sunday."

His curly brown locks were exactly as you remembered them. He looked so sexy. Back in high school, you were casual friends with Eddie, and attended some of the same parties together where he sold weed, other drugs, and drug paraphernalia.

Even with his hair disheveled, calloused hands, and some sweat, he was looking good. You kind of wondered to yourself why you never hung out with him more back in the day. Now you had another chance and you wouldn't let it pass you by. Eddie was so special to you.

"Thank you. What a lifesaver you are. It's great we crossed paths again," you told him, sounding excited. This made Eddie smile and blush.

"Yeah, you helped us out already by just being open," Luna added with her hands on her hips.

"I'll get right on checking it. There's a mini fridge inside the station. Grab yourselves something cold to drink."

"Thanks. It will be great to get a drink after that long ride. We had a beach vacation," Luna remarked.

"Let's catch up soon then," he mentioned with a slight shrug, as he went to look inside the engine and opened your hood.

There was a little problem. You didn't have money to pay him and you had maxed out your credit cards. Hopefully, he would let you have an IOU or take some other form of payment. As you drank your sodas, you got an iced tea out to bring to Eddie.

"We don't have the money for this, but we also weren't anticipating the car breaking down," you admitted with dismay.

"Well, we can do other things like wash some cars and his motorcycle. Maybe put on a strip show," she teased.

"Luna, are you serious? I guess we could. Nothing like two hot girls in bathing suits washing vehicles, as Eddie gets the best view in town."

"Exactly, except we are hot girls."

You shook on it, deciding you'd do whatever it takes to get your car fixed and leave Eddie happy with some form of payment. Even though it had been a while since you last saw him, you knew this would all work out. It just had to. If it didn't, you might even resort to more drastic measures.

"Okay, Eddie, we have tea for you," you told him as you presented him with the can and made your way over to him again.

He was working up a sweat as he was looking under the hood. He had a lot of stamina and a hard work ethic. If only you could convince him to let you get your vehicle back with a different form of payment. Something told you this would be a tempting offer for him.

"Thanks. I'll drink some in a minute. Just put it down on the ground."

"Eddie, we have a problem. My credit card got maxed out, but the end of the month is coming soon and I'll get paid again. There's not a chance I could pay you back later?" You suggested hopefully.

"Well, how about we call this a favor between old friends? It's on the house. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks. We could pay you back in the meantime. Wash a few cars maybe."

"Got yourself a deal, princess."

Soon you were washing cars, getting them all foamy and soaped up as Eddie finished the engine. He went to wash his hands, getting the dirt and grime from them before going back outside to drink his tea. It was still pretty hot out and he felt slightly refreshed after cleaning up and drinking the cold beverage. You gave him a good view of your ass and chest as you washed, getting on the hood and scrubbing it clean.

Luna was also washing the vehicle but the back of it and giving Eddie a good view of her body. Soon you were done, and you washed another vehicle. You sprayed each other with the hose, giggling and all smiles. Your shirt and shorts were long gone and now discarded. Nothing but your very skimpy bikini tops and thong bottoms were now on display.

Eddie was nearby, catching occasional glances as he at least pretended to be doing some paperwork to keep himself busy near the entrance to the main office. He was only human, after all, and a man, so he couldn't quite help himself from looking at your public display. Truthfully, he was so glad he was the only person to see it. The best part for Eddie was seeing you bending down and washing his motorcycle.

When you finished washing cars, you dried off and changed into a dress. Washing the vehicles was fun and you would be lying if you said it wasn't sexy seeing Eddie checking it all out. He was in his office working on some paperwork when you finished changing and went to look for him. Luna got another drink and went outside for a smoke. Knocking softly on the office door, he looked up at you and smiled.

"What did you think of the show? I saw you looking Eddie," you admitted as you walked closer to him. He got up from his chair going up to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"Guess I wasn't good at hiding it. I think you knew what you were doing."

You boldly made your next move, getting up on your tiptoes and kissing him. Kissing you back, he pulled you in close to him. He put his hands around your waist now as you put your hands around his shoulders.

"What about your friend?" He loudly whispered in between kisses.

"She will be okay with it. She's out smoking."

He growled and pushed you down onto his chair, quickly removing his shirt. Pulling down your dress, he realized you weren't wearing a bra.

"Is this ok?"

Once you nodded your approval, he began sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, then the other. Moments later Luna showed up, hiding outside the door, watching what was going on and touching herself. Her soft moans caused Eddie to look back at her.

"Well, well, well, looks like the party got started without me," she chided half-jokingly as she walked into the office further.

"I guess so. Who said you couldn't join us, though?" Eddie asked curiously with a wicked grin.

"I know exactly what she likes. Let me show you."

Eddie moved aside, still on his knees, and Luna got down on her knees next to him. Her tongue contacted your breast, sucking on your nipple with a bit of force and enough to make a wet sucking sound and pop before she moved to your other breast, doing the same. As this was happening, Eddie watched with wide eyes, looking pleased with the sight he was seeing. Truthfully, he had never seen something like this before in real life.

His cock ached painfully, wanting some release. She met your lips in a tongue-tangling kiss, making Eddie's cock even harder.

"You okay, Eddie?" You asked with concern as his eyes met yours and you got up, taking Luna's hand in yours.

"Fine. I, um, would you ladies like to see my van?"

"Later. For now, we would like to see one of your nicer cars. Would love to fuck in one. Wouldn't you guys?" Luna asked, wanting to do something fun and different for once.

Eddie just nodded his approval, speechless at this point. Luna kissed Eddie wantonly, full of passion, and with the promise of even better things to come.

He took a key off the keychain in his office and led you both to a nice Corvette.

"Remember Jason Carver? This is his Corvette. Needed a tune-up. He was such a bastard," Eddie scoffed as he crossed his hands across his chest.

"Yeah, hated that guy. Chrissy Cunningham's boyfriend. Fucking prick!" You replied with clear distaste in your tone.

"Let's fuck on and in it. I'm game," Luna spoke with a shrug.

You took the keys from Eddie and turned off the alarm, then unlocked the back door, opening it. The interior was nice and smelled good. Making a mess of this douche bags vette would be a lot of fun. Eddie pulled a few condoms from his back pocket, knowing he would probably need them soon.

"Then let's have some fun," you suggested as you removed your bikini top and shorts. You weren't wearing anything underneath and neither was Luna under her dress. She followed suit, removing hers as Eddie removed his clothes and got down to just his boxers.

"How do you want us, Eddie?" You asked with eagerness before kissing him.

"I'd love to fuck both of you. One against the hood and the other on the leather seats."

"That can be arranged. How about you fuck me on the hood though, Eddie?" You offered already, knowing you were going to get what you wanted.

He thought to himself for a little before nodding in agreement. Luna kissed Eddie before kissing you again as Eddie got a great look at both of your naked figures. He was so hard already, achingly so, and you were more than ready to let him fuck you. He fished a condom from his pants pocket and opened it before he put it on, feeling so excited about what was about to happen.

Luna came over to you and whispered in your ear, "Eat me out as he fucks you." You kissed her back in response.

Moving over to the hood, she crawled on top of it and got onto her back, splaying herself out for you to devour. You got closer and helped her steady herself on the hood as Eddie came from behind you and lined up at your entrance with his cock.

You were so tight and Eddie pushed into you slowly as you held onto Luna's legs, which were now spread apart. Her pussy was on full display just waiting for you to lick it.

"You are so fuckin' tight I love it," Eddie praised you as he kissed your shoulder.

His dark brown curls hung in his face, so he pushed them to the side and put his hair into a ponytail with the hair band he had on his wrist. Sweat already beaded his brow. It was hot out, but you were so into each other and this moment felt right. None of you would let this opportunity pass you by, and you were all so horny.

Once Eddie bottomed out inside of you and you got used to his size, he pulled your hair back for you with a firm grip. He began pumping into you as you were now teasing Luna by kissing her inner thighs and licking them. You moved up to her pussy, spreading her folds and licking her outer entrance first. She threw her hair back and moaned for you as you were already groaning loudly for Eddie, who was now grunting himself as he held onto your hip and pulled your hair.

"Tell me how she tastes," Eddie curiously asked as he thrust his hips and pumped his cock into you.

As you licked her clit and moaned happily into her pussy, you left crescent-shaped marks with your fingernails on her inner thighs.

"So fucking good. She tastes like heaven."

Luna moaned and closed her eyes as she clutched onto the hood of Jason's car. Eddie's mouth contacted your neck sucking on it and you could feel his stubble. He smelled so good too and had on a nice cologne. It was breathtaking. Being able to eat out with your friend as Eddie fucked your tight pussy was like a dream come true.

Luna's groans as well as yours grew louder than Eddie's balls slapped against your ass and you devoured her pretty cunt. Her legs wrapped tightly around you as you held down her thighs and got a good grip on them to steady her on the hood of the Corvette.

"Oh fuck! You have the best and tightest pussy. Holy shit!" Eddie cried out as he moved quickly inside of you, your pussy gripping his cock tightly.

"She looks so hot eating my pussy, doesn't she, Eddie?" Luna asked him with seduction in her tone of voice.

Eddie could feel his cock twitch at Luna's remark and pistoned his hips even faster, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Yes, so sexy I love seeing it," Eddie groaned.

He licked his fingers and then finger fucked you, rubbing fast and harsh circles on your clit. As Luna splayed out on the hood of the car, Eddie fucked into you so deep and hard, causing you to moan around her clit, gripping her hips tighter now. As you pleased her pussy, she rubbed her clit.

"Fuck, that's so hot watching your pussy clench my cock so tightly as you eat out your friend. I think I died and went to heaven," he boasted between grunts, sweat beading on his brow.

"Love her mouth, Eddie! Make her cum!" Luna commanded as she lifted her hips riding your face.

"Yes, Eddie, make me cum," you squealed with delight as he hit that special spongy spot of your pussy.

Eddie was perfect at fucking you and making you scream his name. The way he fucked you was incredible and some of the best sex of your life. He fucked you deep and hard, his guitar pick necklace hitting his chest with every thrust inside. His hands left crescent-shaped marks on your hips as he got you even closer to your release. The rings he wore were cold on your skin, but you still felt euphoric on the edge of riding out your high. Luna's cries were even louder now as you fucked her pussy with your mouth, hitting her most sensitive spots with your tongue earning loud cries from her.

"Eddie, I'm going to cum!" You cried out as he felt close to his release his cock twitching inside of you.

"That's right, baby cum for me," Eddie urged you.

Rubbing harsh circles on your clit, he begged to see you cum for him. And you did just that moment later, cumming for him as he was about to cum.

"Where do you want it?" He asked breathlessly.

"Inside me, fill me up, please!" You begged as Luna rode your face faster, riding out her high.

"Fuck ya taste my cum Y/N!" she cried out.

She got off your face and kissed you as Eddie removed the condom and spilled inside of you, filling you up to the hilt with his cum pulling out and gasping.

"So you wanna make our girl here cum again, maybe Eddie?" Luna asked him.

"Fuck yeah! Are you down for that, sweetheart? Want us to take turns eating that pretty pussy?" He asked with raised brows.

"Of course, eat this pussy."

"Let's move this to the back of the car lay down for us, beautiful," Eddie urged as he picked you up with ease and carried you to the backseat, opening up the back door of the convertible.

You got down on your hands and knees on the leather interior seats as Eddie leaned down and ate you out, tasting his cum and fingering you with expert precision with two fingers. As a guitarist, he had the best and most skillful fingers. Luna watched and groaned as she touched herself and Eddie ate you out with reckless abandon, slapping your ass for good measure. As you caressed your breasts, Eddie ate you out from behind, making you moan and cry out for him as Luna kissed you from the other side of the car.

"Yeah, that's right, kiss. So fucking hot," Eddie urged as he licked your glistening wet cunt, spitting on your clit and rubbing it.

"Need to taste her, Eddie. Let me have a turn," she urged.

Eddie was hard again and obliged, letting Luna take his place in the backseat and she began to taste you.

"Want me to fuck you too?" He asked curiously, earning a nod of approval from Luna.

"Yeah fuck me."

Waving her ass in the air, Eddie put on another condom and positioned himself at her entrance, and entered her, filling her up inch by delicious inch. He had one foot on the leather interior of the backseat as he stood on his other leg.

"So good love having you eat this pussy Luna!" You whined as you let her have her way with you and finger you.

Eddie's cock pounded relentlessly into her with so much passion as he moaned. Luna fingered you and licked your ass, earning loud gasps from you.

"Cum for me," she coaxed you as she added another finger, hitting your g-spot.

"Fuck so close!" You moaned.

Eddie was so close to cumming too, and he couldn't wait to cum wherever Luna wanted him to. It was shaping up to be the best day of his life on the job. All 3 of your moans echoed off the walls of the mechanic shop. You were caught up in the moment as she ate you out and your eyes locked with Eddie's feeling like you would cum any moment.

"Tell me how her pussy tastes and how much you are enjoying it, Luna," Eddie growled ferally as he pulled her hair getting a good tug on it.

"So fuckin' good, Eddie. I'm having the best time she has such a pretty pussy. Fuck!" She boasted as she added another finger and sucked your clit flicking it with her tongue and moaning against your folds as Eddie spanked her ass.

The moment was so euphoric as Luna ate you out, Eddie gasping and groaning at the sight of it all. He was so pent up and close to his release as he fucked her faster wanting to come undone at the same time. He was such a pleaser and wanted to make sure you and Luna came only almost as much as he wanted to cum. Watching you getting eaten out as he fucked your friend just about drove him over the edge again.

"Eddie I'm cumming! Fuck!" Luna cried out as her walls clenched tightly around his cock.

Eddie pulled out of her and stroked his cock throwing aside the condom and cumming all over his ass. Right after seeing that you came and Luna kissed you letting you taste yourself. Eddie grabbed a nearby clean towel and wiped Luna clean. You and Luna insisted on licking his cock clean sharing his cum and then swallowing it all.

"Holy fuck that was the hottest thing I've ever seen. Fuck that was the best threesome of my life!" Eddie enthused before pulling Luna in for a kiss and tangling his tongue with yours.

"Yeah it was great we should exchange numbers and do it again sometime," you suggested.

"Of course fuck that would be so hot but next time at my place," Eddie suggested as he got dressed again.

"Oh, we will be wanting your cock again. You are the best mechanic, right Y/N?" Luna asked with a devilish grin.

"We will for sure," you told them with the biggest smirk.

Soon you were all dressed again and sharing a joint. It was the best afternoon the 3 of you had in a long time and you all promised to do it again sometime soon.

Eddie had some of your car to finish for you and he would finish the next afternoon. He dropped you and Luna off at your parent's place. The next day, you woke up late and Eddie told you Steve would pick you up. You hadn't seen him in years, but it would be great to catch up with him again.

After you ate breakfast, Steve arrived. He was also a mechanic now, like Eddie, and they worked side by side. You got into his red Volvo with Luna and put on your seatbelts.

"So your car is just about done. Eddie had some emergency, but it's not too serious with Uncle Wayne. Don't worry, though, your car is in good hands and I'll be finishing it for you," Steve informed you and Luna.

"Thank you, Steve. I'm glad you could help. We are broke. My parents gave me a little of the costs, but we paid Eddie off yesterday," you told him with a smirk.

"Yeah, Steve, you are a true lifesaver," Luna earnestly told him.

"I'm sure there's other ways you girls could pay me. Just let me take you out on a date," he half-joked, with a sly smile.

He began the drive back to the Hawkins mechanic's job in silence for most of the drive.

"So, what have you girls been up to? It's been a while since I've seen either of you in Hawkins."

"We are roommates in another state but just had spring break vacation in Florida," Luna informed him.

You were wearing a black dress, and Luna was wearing a red skirt and a matching red blouse. Steve couldn't help but stare at you both in the rearview mirror.

"Great sounds fun. So just a visit to your old home to see your family and such? Sounds nice."

The rest of the drive was mainly in silence. It was ever so occasionally that Steve would catch glances in the rearview mirror, but tried to be nonchalant. He would either be looking up your dress or Luna's skirt. You didn't mind it though, and neither did she.

When your eyes met his, you both smiled, and he just blushed slightly before looking away. Soon you arrived back at Hawkins's local mechanic shop. Getting out of the car, you and Luna walked to the car lot your memories of the day before with Eddie soon coming back to you.

Leaning in close to Luna, you whispered,

"Hey, what do you think we try to seduce Steve?"

Steve was already back in the mechanic's shop and couldn't hear, but you were so in the mood to tease him.

"Sure, why not? Let's just watch him finish up our car first, then discuss payment," she added loud-whispering back.

Walking into the car shop, you and Luna got close to your car as Steve was doing some work under the hood. Now noticing your presence, he smiled.

"It's almost done. If you don't have all the money, we can do an IOU or a check or something," he added.

Thankfully, Steve was the only other living soul in sight. Good, you thought this time with him needed to be alone and, hopefully, soon, intimate as well.

"Oh, I'm sure we can arrange something," Luna boldly declared as she touched his shoulder.

Steve was wearing a black tank top and black jeans with a leather-red belt and looked good enough to eat.

"Yeah, we can work something out," you added as you placed your hand against his lower back.

Steve was blushing again, which made you giggle softly to yourself.

"We never told you how we paid Eddie back yesterday," Luna confessed as she squeezed his shoulder.

Steve was busying himself under the hood doing some tinkering with the wires.

"Well, you could tell me I'm all yours. Just about done anyway."

"You are so fast. How could we ever repay you?" You asked, genuinely curious.

"No worries, and it's fine."

"If you must know, we paid Eddie back with a threesome. He just worked so hard for us yesterday and last minute too," you added as you leaned forward, letting him get a good view of your cleavage.

Steve gulped and smiled shyly.

"That's something else, isn't it? Well, I don't expect that."

You grabbed Steve's belt, running your fingers over the smooth leather. Luna touched Steve's protruding bulge in his pants.

"I'm not done here yet though," Steve added as he went back to fixing the car's engine.

"How about a small favor, then?" Luna questioned as she grabbed one of Steve's hands and put it on her breasts.

"How about a double blowjob? You can finish for us after we rock your world," you offered sincerely.

Already you were feeling wet and something told you Luna probably was too.

"Yes, please."

"Good, because we both have fantasized about sucking the King of Hawkins' cock before. Is it as big as the ladies say?" Luna asked curiously as she undid his belt.

Steve stood up, letting her do what she wanted before you pushed him down into a chair with wheels. You pulled down Steves's pants and Luna freed his cock from its inner boxer confines as you both licked your lips ravenously. You were cock-hungry for his well-hung dick and practically salivated at the sight of it. To say that he was well-endowed was an understatement.

His cock was thick, veiny, at least a good 8 inches. You stroked his shaft as Luna cradled his balls, earning deep grunts from Steve as you and Luna maintained eye contact with him.

"Oh, fuck, feels nice already. Such dirty girls. Perfect payment plan, I'd say," Steve grunted before licking his lips.

"Such a pretty cock, King," you praised him before licking his shaft from tip to base.

Luna licked the other side of his shaft, and your tongues met. Steve watched with pure lust in his eyes.

"Bet you never had two girls please your cock together, huh?" You asked with a cocky smile before going right back to licking him with Luna, your tongues meeting occasionally.

Steve felt like he had just died and gone to heaven.

"No never. Just one woman at a time," he hissed as you took him into your mouth, sucking him deeper and deeper.

Luna sucked on one of his balls as you both kept constant eye contact with Steve. This was truly the time of his life having two beautiful women suck him off as he got a good view of your cleavage and hers. Steve pulled your hair back as you sucked him off, almost completely gagging and spitting on his cock as Luna maneuvered herself so that she was sucking his other ball into her mouth. As you sucked and drooled all over his big cock, he bucked his hips, grunting and pulling on your loose ponytail.

"That's right, suck his cock good. Deep throat him," Luna encouraged you as she cupped your breasts and looked up at Steve.

"Good girl, so close to deep-throating this cock," Steve praised as he threw his head back and bit his lips.

As you deep-throated him, you let him use and enjoy your wet and warm mouth to his liking. His thrusts became faster, and you felt yourself grow wet, making a mess of your panties as you sucked him off like a pro. Popping off his cock, Luna eagerly kissed you to taste how he tasted.

"Good job. That was so sexy to watch. Now it's my turn."

You kissed her again as Steve watched his cock twitching, loving the sight of two girls kissing in front of him on their knees, no less.

"So good for me. I love this. The kissing, the stimulation, the sucking. Fuck!" Steve boasted, secretly wishing he had received a double blowjob sooner.

Not only could you deep-throat him, but you were good at keeping your teeth back. It was the way Steve loved it and preferred it.

"When we are done with you, we want you to cum in our mouths," Luna requested before kissing you again.

"As long as you share and kiss," he demanded.

You both nodded right before Luna removed her top and sucked him. Steve loved the sight of her boobs. You pulled your dress down and undid your bra's front clasp, letting him get a good view.

"Mmm, come here and let me play with them," he ordered as he made a come here motion with his finger.

Standing up, you wrapped your arms around Steve's shoulders, your breasts face level as Luna sucked him deep, making him groan loudly.

"Love your boobs, Y/N," he boasted as he teased your nipples, tweaking them and rubbing them, caressing and squeezing.

Luna replaced her mouth with her breasts, wrapping them around his cock and tit-fucking him, earning a low hiss from Steve as he sucked your nipple, causing you to groan in delight and tug his beautiful locks of brown hair.

"Like this Stevie?" She asked him before licking the tip and moving her breasts up and down on his shaft.

"Fuck yes. Hey, princess, why don't you get down there and join her?" Steve suggested.

You kissed Steve in response before getting down on your knees again, cradling his balls.

"Mm, so big Steve, you like my breasts?" Luna asked as she moved her breasts faster and licked the tip of his cock head.

"Mmm yes, so much!"

Steve thrust his hips faster as she pleased him and you massaged his balls and sucked on one. Luna pulled you in for a kiss, letting you get a good taste of Steve's cock.

"Now it's your turn," she told you before letting you switch places with her.

You gladly swapped places and wrapped your breasts around his cock before moving up and down, looking up at him with a mischievous smirk in your eyes and licking and sucking the tip of his cock. Luna watched with wide eyes as she grabbed your ass and slapped it.

"Such a naughty girl, isn't she, Steve?"

"She sure is. So good at that with her mouth of hers. Fuck!" He gasped as he threw his head back in pure ecstasy.

Taking Steve deeper into your mouth, Luna held back your hair and helped you to move your head up and down on his cock.

"That's right, deep throat, my cock, baby!" Steve urged as he bucked his hips erratically.

Luna stood up to kiss Steve before getting down on her knees and licking Steve's balls. Your lips met hers in yet another kiss as you stroked his cock and massaged the pearly tip already leaking with pre-cum.

"So close!" He cried out as he felt his cock twitch in your hand.

The sight of you kissing Luna, you stroking his cock, and Luna squeezing his balls almost made him cum on the spot.

"Cum in our mouths Steve," you urged before going back to licking his shaft, your tongue tangling with Lunas every so often.

"Oh yes fuck!" He bellowed as Steve reached the precipice of his release.

You took turns sucking him off with Luna before he pulled away slightly and jerked himself off, cumming deep inside your mouth first, then Lunas.

"Now share!" He demanded.

You kissed Luna deeply with your tongue, putting on a show for Steve. You spit into her mouth and she spit right back into yours before you shared his cock again for the last time, licking him clean and swallowing. Luna and you opened up your mouths wide to show him all his cum was gone.

"That's the hottest thing I've ever seen," Steve proudly tells you and Luna.

"I guess our service is paid off now, huh?" Luna inquired as she looks up at him.

"I guess so, but you ladies can call me anytime."

"Great, I guess we will," you replied with a slight shrug.

Steve kissed you and Luna, happy to have shared such an intimate moment with you both.

You had Steve and Eddie right where you wanted them. Every time you found yourself back in Hawkins, you visited them both at the mechanic shop for some quality fun together and got that every time you went.

tag list:

@corneliuswatkins @jadeylovesmarvelxo @ali-r3n @mrprettywhenhecries @ofhawkinsandvecna

@keeryatmosphere @daisy-is-a-writer @lovemesomeeddiemunson @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @munson-mjstan

@espressomunson @edsbug @eddiemunsonfuxks @solitarydemise @seatnights

@corrodedcorpses @hcwthewestwaswcn @bimbobaggins69 @thescoopstroopers @haceleyes

@onegirlmanytales @aleisashortcake @zestychili @veemoon @thepurplelovewitch

@ellharrington @stolen-in-moonlight @hellv1ra @kelseyaparker19 @keikoraven

@iliketoreadandcry @eddies-bunny @loritate7311 @somethingvicked @eddxemxnson

@harringtonfan4 @micheledawn1975 @steveslittlesunflower

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #steddie x reader #eddie munson smut #steve harrington smut #steddie smut #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson oneshot #steve harrington oneshot #eddie munson x fem reader #steve harrington x fem reader #eddie munson x oc #steve harrington x oc #friends to lovers #stranger things oneshot

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houseofevanbuckley · 2 days

Text

Part 1 : here

Tommy left. Of course he did.

Who would stay when Evan “Buck” Buckley fucks up again, uh?

He’s back in his room now, in his bathroom, getting ready for a shower and he’s wondering if he can avoid cleaning his lips and his birthmark so he can pretend to still feel Tommy’s touch. Tommy’s lips.

What a teenager.

He slams the door of the shower behind him and lets the water drop on his face, visualise it erasing Tommy’s kiss, his touch, like it never happened.

He doesn’t cry. It’s not his first deception. He knows how to deal with it.

He knows !!

Ok, maybe he doesn’t know. It’s been 2 weeks and his eyes still wander around every rooms he goes into. Around every venues.

Maddie has been on his ass as soon as he dropped his mug at the news of Tommy’s leaving.

And everyday she looks at him suspiciously. She even pulled his best friend Eddie and his son to try to have Buck to come out with it, whatever it was.

Her words. And he almost lost it laughing at the “come out” part. If she knew.

Maybe she should.

It’s been 3 more weeks. Five weeks in total and he called Maddie in his room.

“He kissed me.” He blurts as soon as she’s sitting down.

It’s a sign of how close they are that she doesn’t even need anything else to know what and who they’re talking about immediately.

“Did he force you?” she asks serious.

“What? No, no absolutely not! Why would you even think that?”

“I dont know Evan, maybe because you’ve been hurting for five weeks and now you tell me your bodyguards kissed you before running away and-“

“I liked it Maddie, I liked it so much,” he says, and his eyes fill with tears.

She looks at him for a few seconds before her face finally clear. He knows she gets him. He knows she already knows or guessing what he’s not saying yet.

“Oh Evan,” she says before standing from her seat and comes around to hug him.

They stay like that for a while, before she breaks the silence of the room.

“What happened ?”

“He kissed me. He came into my room, I was freaking out because I said “he” during that show. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about him, and he knocked and he came inside. And he kissed me. And when he asked if it was ok I… I just told him that I was sorry. And then he left. And he really left …”

They stay like that for a long time.

“Why did you say no?”

“Please Maddie… it’s been hard enough for us. Yes mom and dad helped a little but we struggled. YOU struggled so I could have my music lessons, my voice training, my recordings. Everything you did for me…. If I come out now? As what? Bi? People will freak… they’ll hate me. And through me you. They’ll destroy what we built together. What we fought for.”

Maddie looks at him and instead of the understanding he thought he’d see on her face he only see sadness, “Evan … do you truly think that your happiness is not my priority? That I wouldn’t drop everything here if it meant that my baby brother could have all he wants?”

“Maddie… you shouldn’t sacrifice anything for me.”

“And I don’t intend to, but I’d do it in a heartbeat. And I’m sure many of your fans would still love you. Yes maybe we would have shows in smaller venues, but you always said that you liked them more, that it gave you a better bond to your fans. Or maybe you’ll be the first bi-icon of country music here and you’ll explode. We don’t know what the future holds. But we know what you always looked for. We know why your eyes always wander around in a room. What if Tommy is that person that will always be here for you ?”

He can feel the tears sliding slowly down his face.

“How was that kiss, Evan?”

“It was like when I first played on my first guitar…” he says looking at his sister, silently pleading for her to understand what’s the significance of it is. And he sees on her face that she gets it. Like she always does.

“Let’s get your man”

It takes some time. They know where Tommy works easily enough but the tour is now in Canada and Tommy is all the way back to California, to Los Angeles where he works apparently for the Rams.

The fact that they’re away and can’t come back ends up working for them as Maddie put a plan together so Buck can talk to Tommy, and convince him for a second chance.

They’re finally hitting a two weeks break in the tour and they’re back in LA. Buck is looking outside to the game being played.

They’re close to the halftime and he’s getting ready. He knows Maddie is around there, texting Chimney consistently while her husband has the job of keeping Tommy focused on him and close to the playfield so he doesn’t try to run away when he realizes who’s singing.

Of course Chimney was made aware of their plans and it was only his love for romance that probably kept him from blurting it all out to Tommy already.

When the halftime is finally announced and they say that a surprise entertainment has been put together Buck leaves the room and goes outside to get on the stand they put together for him.

He knows where Chimney and Tommy are supposed to be. He knows exactly where to watch. And for the first time he’s scarred of what he’ll see if he let his eyes wander around to find Tommy.

But he still does it.

And here he is. Looking back at him.

Even from where Buck stands he can see how tense Tommy look, and he still drowns in his blue eyes.

He hears the music start and the years of training and experience make him act. He grabs his guitar and start to play.

This time when he says “he” it’s not a mistake.

This time when he says “he” it’s with intention.

This time when he says “he” he shouts it.

And he shouts it again. And again. And again.

His voice never wavers. His eyes barely blink, scared of missing any hints of Tommy’s reaction.

When he switches to a second song, a silly little song just to distract the crowd he sees Tommy moving his head a little. Like he did when he took care of Buck at the venues.

He always pretended to not like Buck’s songs. To not like music at all, but Buck saw him enough time mouthing the words of his songs to know it was just an act.

And when he starts the third song, he can see Tommy singing words for words. He only stumbles a little when Buck says “he” again and he smiles. He smiles at Tommy, and he shouts louder. And louder.

He.

The last notes are still resonating when he shouts a thank you to the crowd that applaud. This time he doesn’t care. The show wasn’t for them.

It was for him.

And he leaves the stand and he walks toward Tommy. He walks across half the field. It’s not what he’s supposed to do. It’s not how the artist is supposed to leave. He had an exit. The same that he used to enter the field.

But Maddie is supposed to have cleared that with them. He doesn’t really care to be honest.

Not now that he’s in front of Tommy and he sees Chimney walks quietly away.

“Hey”

“Hey,” answers Tommy, his face inscrutable.

“I’m so sorry,” says Buck, taking the few more steps that separate them. He can feel the heat from Tommy’s body now. “I’m so sorry,” he repeats.

“Evan”

“I made a mistake. It was ok, Tommy. It was so ok. The okayest”

Tommy huffs, his lips quirking up, “the okayest,uh?”

Buck nods, he’s not sure what he should say now. The plan was to sing for Tommy. To meet him again. To tell him that kiss wasn’t a mistake. That he liked it.

But now in front of Tommy, he feels his lips moving but no sounds leave them.

He doesn’t have to. Not when he feels Tommy fingers rub his jaw, retracing the same pattern they did after their kiss. He rubs his face on that hand like a cat, closing his eyes and then he feels it again. Tommy’s lips.

This time the world goes silent. It goes still. Only Tommy is here, Tommy and Buck.

And when they separate to breathe, the first sound he hears is the little exhale from Tommy and he vows to one day be able to recreate it through music. But now he just pulls Tommy closer to kiss him.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #evan buck buckely #buck x tommy #tommy x buck #evan buck buckley #tevan #buck and tommy #kinley #kinkley

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

Am I the asshole for checking my friend's blog after they cut contact for our whole friend group without saying anything?

This happened near the start of this year, I (21f) had gotten home after a very upsetting personal matter and decided maybe calling some friends would help me feel better, but I noticed one friend (23x) in our shared server had a white name instead of green in the server, so duh I was worried cause it's not like we had any recent fights (we called the night before and had fun, it was like normal) so I naturally went to dm and ask if they were alright, discord said I couldn't dm them and I saw it's cause they also unfriended me.

I was getting a lot more worried so I checked Tumblr, and it said their blog was deleted. So I went to our shared friend and told them about it, and they said the blog was still there cause they used an alt account to check. And then they noticed they were also unfriended, and basically the whole group of us realized we all got blocked on tumblr and discord.

Some of them reached out on whatever contact they still had cause we were all really worried since this friend has attempted before. A few days pass and we finally get a response, I'm not gonna like..say word for word what was said cause that feels kind of a breach of privacy. But basically it...did not make things better! It just made us all feel like our friend of nearly 3 years didn't trust us enough to say "hey I'm taking an internet break" or "I'm going through something I may leave discord"

A few more days pass and here's where I think I'm an asshole or like. Weird and creepy or something. I check my friend's blog, I scroll through and see if there were any posts that were like ..this was a planned thing (like, posts talking about needing a break from friends or discord) or if the "taking a break lol sorry I didn't tell you guys and just blocked you on everything" was a lie and this *was* an attempt or something.

And then I saw a post of our friend saying (from my memory) something along the lines of "these bitches do not know how much I can ruin their life I need to make an aita on reddit ugh" and like...I already naturally have very bad paranoia so that kinda full on put me in a panic attack.

I vented about it, and it turns out some friends brought that up to them and they got super mad and said I was being a stalker and that they didn't want anything to do with any of us anymore. Was I am asshole/in the wrong?

I'm really sorry for making this super long, this was my first aita so I hope I didn't like..make this too venty? It's something that's been bugging me for months.

#aita #am i the asshole

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appleblueberry-pie · 3 days

Note

When Gojo asks why we won’t just be with him we tell him that he isn’t worth it 😔🫰

He isn’t worth the body or the history… I know a lot of people like to brag about having exes and body’s but that shit is so embarrassing to me 😭 like I feel like a whore because a boy kissed me in like middle school and he was a BOY. Boys are so gross omg-anyway-

Like why would I date you if we’re gonna break up? Get out of my face bro 😔

"....Is that what you became friends with me for? I'm not interested in dating you, Gojo."

Gojo never knew you were the type to reject people like him. He was everything you wanted in a man and he knew it. Money, extroverted, very fine, strong, tall, sexy, intelligent, all of the above. So....why did you say no to his confession? I repeat, HE CONFESSED and you rejected HIM. He couldn't help but accidentally voice his thoughts.

He leans back in surprised and scrunches his eyebrows at your response. "What?" You raise your eyebrows at his answer and continued eating the food he bought you at this expensive cafe that you now loved. ".....What? Never been rejected before?" You laughed at his response and kept eating. He wasn't gonna pressure you into dog shit, he could kiss ass. You did like his qualities. But with how the dating pool is currently, you wouldn't be surprised if he had three bitches lighting his phone up currently. You had zero hope in all men unless they don't use their phones at all and instead told you the worst jokes on planet in hopes of swooning you.

You would rather not date him. He was nice eye candy though. He gains his composure back and leans on the table. "Yeah, I have been, but I felt like we were both interested in each other, you know...?" You nod, understanding what he meant. "Yeah....sorry if it seemed like I was leading you on." He shakes his head, still incredibly butt hurt inside. "No, it's not your fault."

Why did you say no? He wants to ask desperately. Too many questions filled his mind at the possibilities. Were you lesbian and he was too stupid to realize? Was he not your type at all whatsoever? Was he too stuck up like Suguru said? He doesn't know. "Is it okay if I ask what made you say no?"

You shrug and look up in thought. "Well, it's not you, it's just....too much is happening right now. And I mean with everyone. Too many people are love-bombing each other, there's no genuine connection ever, then there's 'situationships', and a looot of people my age don't have patience for long-term relationships and it's just....i feel like- ugh i guess I'll say it. But I feel like you're the perfect person to have all of those qualities. You're very attractive, Satoru, so....I don't know if I'm ready to trust you enough not to put those labels on your head. It's dumb, but yeah. And I do too much with relationships. I put too much time and energy into the person I'm with, and i hate doing that knowing that there are so many people who've just neglected my needs in return. Basically, I love trauma."

Satoru watched you the entire time you spoke, so you found it hard to continue speaking, but you managed to push through. "Fuck them." You roll your eyes and he takes one of your fries, eating them. "I'm serious. I can give you everything you want and need y/n. I wouldn't ask you out if I didn't have a major attraction and connection to you."

You didn't look impressed, but he was determined. "I agree with you. None of the girls I tried to date just wanted me for sex. I know you would treat me better than that. And I would be willing to give you the love and respect you deserve. I get....I don't want to say this, but I get really happy at the thought of being able to provide for you. All I want is you. And it's okay if you don't want me now."

He takes a piece of your cake and eats it without your permission. "I'm willing to wait."

I'm sorry I took forever with this omg. This is the start of many. I might do like 6 more tomorrow. I need sleep.

#reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #slight yandere lol

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avastrasposts · 2 days

Text

Big Sky Country - ch. 6

Chapter 6 is here and since we left Frankie on his way back to the ranch in Montana, and Aisling still in New York, how are they going to work this out after the way they left it?

Summery: Cowboy Frankie returns to New York to work things out with his 'maybe girlfriend' Eva. But he also makes a connection with another woman, who makes this lost cowboy feel welcome in her Brooklyn bar.

Warnings for the whole series can be found here

“You’re the only one who makes my mind as quiet as the prairie.”

His parting words remained with her but Aisling didn’t expect Frankie to bury himself so deep in her head. Heartbreaks, guys ghosting her, cheating on her, it had all happened before, apparently she had a knack for picking the losers. But it never took her long to get over them, a week or two of being a bit down, nothing a night out with friends couldn’t fix.

With Frankie, it had been twelve fucking weeks. Three months of her mind drifting to him whenever there was a slow moment at work, getting annoyed when someone sat in ‘his’ spot at the bar, dreaming about him almost every night.

Jenny noticed and tried pulling her out of it, taking her to their favorite BBQ place, sitting at long trestle tables, laughing at the ridiculous mason jars the drinks were served in. But then Jenny left for the rest room, and Aisling’s eyes drifted to the Texas flag hanging on the wall and then he was back in her head.

“You could just call him, you know,” Jenny said, sitting down opposite Aisling and handing over another mason jar of lemonade spiked with bourbon, seeing where her friend’s mind was at.

“Why would I do that? To get fresh material for the delusion living in my head?” Aisling snorted, shaking her head.

“To get him out of your system, ask him to come back here, or better yet, go see him. You’ve never been out of the city. Go see Montana.”

“Jenny, now you’re being the delusional one, how would seeing him again get him out of my system?”

“I just think, the way you talk about him-”

“I don’t talk about him,” Aisling interrupted, almost slamming her drink down on the table at the very notion.

“I hate to break it to you, Ash, but you talk about him almost every day,” Jenny raised her eyebrows, daring Aisling to challenge her. “Only last night at the bar, you said Frankie would like that new beer we’re stocking.”

“That was just an observation, I wasn’t talking about him.”

“And when we had lunch on Thursday you told me the story about how he delivered a foal all by himself.”

“There was a nature documentary about wild horses on the tv!” Aisling protested, “It was an interesting story!”

“You’d already told me that story twice,” Jenny said, “And I’ve known you for over twenty years, never, ever, have you talked about horses. I don’t think you’ve ever even been near a horse.”

“I have,” Aisling objected, “Remember when Jules worked selling tickets for the horse carriages by Central Park? We used to hang out there and bug her the whole summer.”

“Doesn’t count. And the point stands; you talk about him almost every day, he’s clearly still on your mind and you need to get him out of your system. Or move to Montana. Whichever one seems easiest to you.”

“Maybe she just needs to get laid? I volunteer.”

The voice of a man a few years younger came into the conversation as he sat down next to Jenny, grinning at Aisling.

“Fuck off, Pete,” Aisling snapped, rolling her eyes at the blonde man.

“Shut up,” Jenny said at the same time, digging her elbow into Pete’s ribs, making him wince, “This is serious, Aisling is going to be pining over this cowboy for the rest of her life if we can’t figure out how she’ll get over him.”

“I’m not moving to Montana, and I can’t call him, I don’t have his number,” Aisling said and downed the last of her drink, scowling at Pete’s unwelcome addition to the table.

“You can actually call him,” Jenny replied, fishing a folded piece of paper from her tote bag. “I got it from the trash after you threw it away. Just in case, you know.”

She smoothed out the paper and pushed it over the table to Aisling, who looked down at it without touching. There, on the wrinkled page from the bar’s notepad, in Frankie’s neat handwriting, his name and number, Francisco Morales.

Seeing his name, in his writing, suddenly made her throat close up and she blinked a few times.

“Just call him,” Pete said, “I don’t really want to have sex with you, so calling him is clearly the only option.”

Aisling rolled her eyes at Jenny who swatted his arm.

“Fuck off, Pete.”

Aisling looked down at the paper again and pushed herself to her feet.

“I’m over him. And I’m not moving to Montana. I’ll just hang out with Ben and Jerry until this blows over, as usual.”

Jenny sighed, took the paper and folded it up again, leaned over the table and stuffed it into the pocket of Aisling’s jacket.

“Just in case, if there’s an emergency and you need someone to deliver a foal or something,” she said, giving Aisling another look that meant ‘Don’t you fucking dare throw that piece of paper away’.

“Fine, whatever, see you tomorrow,” Aisling replied, giving them both a wave as she left the restaurant.

The piece of paper burnt a hole in her pocket on the way home and she tucked it out of sight between the pages of a book as soon as she could.

Out of sight, out of mind

When the bus dumped him outside the gas station on the outskirts of Big Sky, Frankie drew a deep breath of relief. He never thought he’d feel so light just seeing the prairie in front of him as the bus pulled away. He stood several minutes just staring at the rolling plain and the sky above until the honk of a horn behind him pulled him out of his reverie.

Herb waved at him from his truck, right on time as usual and Frankie hoisted his bag up on his shoulder and crossed the road.

“Hey, man, admiring the view?”

The older man greeted him with a grin as Frankie slid into the passenger side of the truck.

“Hey, Herb, yeah, good to be back,” he replied, sinking back in the seat and rubbing a hand over his face, “Long fucking journey.”

“How was New York? You were gone a while, wasn’t sure you’d come back.”

Herb knew most of his history with Eva, Frankie had told him things were over between them when he got back from New York last time. And he was smart enough to guess that Frankie’s sudden departure five weeks earlier had something to do with her too, even though Frankie hadn’t told him exactly why he was leaving. Frankie usually made a point of being as truthful as possible with Herb, but when Eva called, he’d chickened out

Now Frankie sighed as Herb put the truck in drive and pulled out from the gas station.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure either,” Frankie replied, “Eva called to tell me she was pregnant, that’s why I Ieft.”

“Pregnant?” Frankie could see Herb’s eyebrows rise from the corner of his eye, “How did you feel about that?”

Typical Herb question, always asking how it made him feel. Frankie almost chuckled at the older man but it just came out as a strangled snort and he rubbed a hand over his face again.

“Scared, hopeful, nervous, petrified,” he shook his head, “fucking terrified. But it’s over, she had an abortion, I’m not gonna be a dad.”

“That why you came back?”

“It’s a long story, and it might need a beer or two for the details,” Frankie replied, “but yeah, things got messy, she had the abortion without telling me about it, I got involved with another woman, she found out I had a girlfriend, Eva found out I’d cheated, I stayed to make things right again, but in the end, it wasn’t going to work.”

Frankie leaned his head against the back of the seat and closed his eyes briefly as Herb turned down the smaller road that led back to the ranch.

“That’s a lot for just five weeks, but tell me about it when you’re ready, Frank,” Herb said, glancing over at the furrow between Frankie’s eyes.

“I don’t think there’s more to tell,” Frankie shrugged, “New York kicked my ass, and I’m more sure than ever that I can’t live in a big city.”

“Any regrets?” Herb asked and Frankie knew what he meant, Herb was asking if he’d used any drugs while he was there.

Frankie shook his head, “No, not in that way, I was tempted but I stayed away from it, I know it would only make things worse.”

“Not in that way?” Herb looked over at Frankie again, “What do you regret?”

Frankie looked out through the passenger side window and sighed, the memory of Aisling filling his mind. She hadn’t been far from his thoughts much in the past two days, constantly at the forefront of his mind as he debated his decision while stuck on the endless bus ride.

“That I fucked up, hurt someone else again,” he said, “I should’ve walked away but the need to make myself feel good first…I couldn’t resist.”

“The other woman?” Herb asked and Frankie nodded, guilt creeping into his chest.

“She’s…she’s great, fucking amazing…” Frankie shook his head, self-deprecation creeping into his voice, “she works in a bar, I ended up there on my first day back, and she just…fuck…It felt like she saw me but it sounds so pathetic when I say it.”

“But that’s what it felt like?” Herb recognised the turbulent emotions on the face of the younger man, “like she saw you, and not just some stranger in a bar?”

“Yeah, like she saw something else than everyone else sees, not the addict or the ex-soldier with a bunch of issues, or the miserable fuck who has to live away from everything to keep his shit together.”

“Take a step back, Frankie,” Herb said, putting his hand on Frankie’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze to pull him out of the spiral, “Those things are not you, they don’t define you. They are issues you need to deal with, but they are not who you are.”

Frankie nodded, taking a deep breath, “She made me feel like that, like that stuff doesn’t define me. She didn’t know about it all, I didn’t tell her, but…I don’t know…” Frankie trailed off, trying to figure out how to put into words how someone who didn’t know him, could make his head so peaceful. “She just…made it feel…right?” He shook his head, “I don’t know Herb, I can’t get my head around it, she made me feel peaceful, my head was quiet when I was with her and I craved it.”

“It must’ve been hard to resist being around her if she had that effect on you, especially in the city,” Herb replied and Frankie nodded.

“I never should’ve gone back to the bar after the first time, but shit…” Frankie trailed off again and Herb glanced over at him as the truck bounced over the last mile of dirt road up to Frankie’s cabin. He pulled up in front of it and killed the engine.

“Are you staying in touch with her? The other woman?” he asked, and Frankie shook his head.

“Na, I fucked up, she doesn’t want anything to do with me. I told her I was leaving though, so that’s it, I’m out of her life.”

“Take it as a lesson Frankie,” the older man said, putting his hand on his shoulder again, “Take it as a lesson and learn from it, even though you feel like shit about it now. Maybe you’ll find your way back to her some day, or maybe you’ll find someone who makes you feel the same as she did. Either way, when that day comes, make sure you’ve learned from your mistakes and don’t repeat them. Be honest to yourself and to those around you. That's all you can do.”

Frankie nodded and put his hand over Herb’s on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, “Thanks man, I needed to hear that. I already know it, but I needed to hear it.”

He pushed the door to the truck open and raised his hand in a wave, “I’ll see you tomorrow, thanks for the ride.”

“Miranda is cooking you dinner tomorrow, you can’t say no,” Herb grinned and Frankie gave him a quick thumbs up.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, I know she’s fed up with your conversation topics,” He grinned at Herb and closed the truck door.

Out of sight, out of mind.

That's what she'd thought, but no such luck. It was like knowing that she had a way to contact him made the intrusive thoughts even louder. Not even the loud noise in the bar that evening could drown them out. She sighed loudly as she called dibs on dishwasher duty and took a stack of glasses into the back. The murmur of the guests, the low bass of the music, it was muted back here and she took a moment. Leaning her forehead against the warm metal of the industrial dishwasher hood, she closed her eyes.

Frankie’s face drifted into her mind and she remembered what he’d said about the noise, how it grated on his ears. She’d never thought about the noise of the city like that before. To her it was just a constant buzz in the background, a comforting hum that let her know that she wasn’t ever truly alone. But Frankie hadn’t felt that, and the way he talked about the quiet of the prairie, of where he lived in Montana, made her long for that kind of silence.

“Makes my mind go quiet and it makes me calm, it’s easier for me to live with myself out there.”

For the first time she thought she might understand what he meant, she felt like she wanted to sit in a quiet room and just sort through her thoughts, like sorting a bookshelf. What to keep, what to throw out, what should she read next?

What should her next step be? All she knew was that living with Frankie as a constant distraction in her head wasn’t going to work.

With a groan she pushed herself upright again and went back to the bar. A woman snapped her fingers at her as soon as she opened the door, snapping and waving for her to come over.

“Excuse me, miss? Miss?” she called while Aisling made her way over to the table.

“How can I-”

Aisling didn’t even get to finish her question before the woman was talking over her.

“I had this wine, in a bar over on India Street, it was red, from Bulgaria I think, maybe Romania. Do you have anything like that?”

“No, sorry, we don’t have any wines on the menu. We only have beer, but we have some re-”

“You don’t have any wine?” The woman interrupted her again and Aisling forced her customer service smile to stay put, her cheeks aching. “What kind of a bar doesn’t serve wine?” She looked over at her laughing friends, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. “You’ve got to have something? Can’t you go to the bodega, or like the bar next door and buy a bottle?”

“The owner of the bar has decided to specialize in beer only, but we do have some very light, fruity beers that are almost wine-like, if you’d like to try one?”

The woman pursed her lips and looked like Aisling just deeply offended her, but then she shrugged, waving her hand in Aisling’s direction as she turned back to her friends.

“Sure, whatever, just get me something to drink.”

Aisling gritted her teeth into a smile, “Ok then, coming right up,” and turned back to the bar. She grabbed the Belgian beer and sent the runner over to the table with it, before she got back to serving the line of patrons at the bar.

The bar got louder and rowdier as the evening moved on, and both Jenny and Aisling had to dodge unwelcome advances from tipsy customers. Jenny slapped away the hand of a man who reached across the counter in an attempt to hook a finger into her neckline, shouting abuse at her as he spilled his drink in the process. Aisling stepped in and chewed him out, getting the bouncer to bar him, to loud protests from his equally drunk friends.

The whole vibe was in itself not unusual, a regular Saturday night, but Aisling felt her patience running thin, impatiently snapping at any man who got too close. The table with the rude woman left and Aisling cursed under her breath when she saw that they’d left no tip, scooping up the exact change from the table.

The final straw came when she was collecting glasses towards the end of the evening, the bar crowd thinning out as people went home or on to some club. A man stumbled from the rest room as she bent forward over a table to retrieve a glass. As he walked behind her, he grabbed her hips and grinded his groin into her ass, groaning loudly and whooping. She pushed back, making him stumble backwards into the wall, and he cursed loudly as his head made sharp impact with wooden slats.

“Fucking bitch!” he yelled, grabbing the back of his head, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Keep your fucking hands off me!” Aisling snapped back at him, getting ready to kick him in the balls if he tried advancing on her. The drunk man took one stumbling step forward, rage across his features, but was halted by Mickey, the owner, holding up his hands in front of the man in a placating gesture.

“Sir, please, the next drink is on the house, I apologize for her behavior,” he said, attempting to usher the man away from Aisling and towards his friends at a nearby table.

“She fucking assaulted me,” the man protested, “I want her fired.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Mickey!” Aisling spluttered, “He was dry humping my ass and you’re giving him a drink on the house?!”

“Fucking fire the bitch!” the man yelled as Mickey ushered him towards his friends who were waving at him to join them.

“I’ll talk to her,” Mickey assured him, snapping his fingers at Jenny to bring over another beer.

“Mickey!” Aisling protested, and he rounded on her, hissing as he got up in her face.

“It’s part of the job, Aisling, just brush it off. Your attitude is bad enough as it is these days, making a scene isn’t exactly helping your case. Or your tips.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Aisling blurted, “You’re telling me you’re fine with a guest grabbing my ass and dry humping just so that we can get more tips? Why don’t you just hire a prostitute?!”

“Now, listen, Aisling-”

“No, you fucking listen!” Aisling snapped, her temper getting the better of her as she felt the injustice of the whole fucking night fuel her rage. “Fuck that guy, and fuck you for taking his side, fuck your bar and your stupid fucking overpriced pretentious beer.”

Aisling threw the rag she’d been holding on the floor as Jenny stared at her from across the bar, as did pretty much everyone else. But Aisling was too furious to care, and she didn’t even register Mickey yelling at her as she stormed through the back door. Cursing she wiped at the tears that welled up, she hated how she always cried when she got mad, and grabbed her bag and jacket. She was outside in the back alley before she’d even gotten out of her uniform shirt, and with an angry growl she ripped it off, buttons bouncing over the ground. She pulled her own shirt from the bag and yanked it over her head as the back door opened. It was Jenny, her eyes wide as she glanced back over her shoulder.

“Mickey’s livid, I think he might really fire you this time,” she gasped, “Come back in and apologize, please!”

“No fucking way, I quit, I’m fucking done,” Aisling replied, tugging her jacket over the t-shirt as she started to walk away down the alley.

“Aisling!” Jenny called after her, nervously looking between the door to the bar and Aisling’s retreating back. “Aisling! I’ll call you tomorrow! I’ll get him to not fire you, ok?”

The interior of the cabin smelled stale and musty as Frankie pushed open the door. Leaving it open, he dumped his duffel bag on the nearest chair and went to open the windows and let the clean air inside. The smell of the prairie drifted in on the draft and he inhaled again, it smelled like home in a way he’d never felt anywhere else. A little it reminded him of his childhood back in Texas, but mostly it just reminded him of life here.

He sank down on the couch and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He should shower, should heat up a can of something for dinner, but he just needed to relax for a minute. A coyote barked from somewhere outside and Frankie pushed himself off the couch and went to the front door, sinking down on the porch swing. The night in front him was dark but he could make out the shadows as his eyes got used to the faint light.

The coyote barked again, and Frankie heard the underbrush rustle as a startled rabbit scurried away. He relaxed back against the wooden slats and kicked it into a slow swing. The sky above him was sparkling with stars and out of habit he found the North Star, a constant in the northern hemisphere, it had helped guide him many times.

The coyote yapped again, closer this time, and Frankie scanned the darkness just out of his field of vision, straining his eyes to spot the glimmer of the animal's eyes. His ears felt unfamiliar with the silence after the weeks in the city, but after a while he could pick up the faint rustle of the wind through the dry grass. A twig snapped nearby and as Frankie looked over, he saw the coyote. It had frozen mid step as it spotted Frankie’s movement, and now the two of them stared at each other across the front yard.

“Hey there, boy,” Frankie said in a low voice, “what you up too?”

The coyote blinked as its ears moved forward towards the voice and Frankie chuckled.

“Are you the welcome wagon? I appreciate you keeping an eye on the place while I was gone, but there’s no food here, boy. Better get a move on or that jackrabbit’s gonna get even further away.”

The animal regarded Frankie with curiosity for a few more seconds, before a sound behind drew its attention and it turned its head towards the darkness.

“Go on, boy,” Frankie said, keeping his voice low, and the coyote looked back at him once again, before it turned and disappeared into the night. Frankie watched the spot where it had been swallowed up by the shadows for a while before he got to his feet with a sigh. He felt content. There was a dull ache in him, a hole left by Aisling, shaped by the guilt and regret he felt, but he hoped it would fade over time. He would take Herb’s advice and learn the lesson, make sure he didn’t make the same mistake again.

Aisling slammed the door to her tiny apartment, reality starting to catch up with her as the rage abated. Sinking down on the bed she dropped her head in her hands, sighing deeply. It wasn’t that she got fired, she could probably convince Mickey to take her back. If not, there were thousands of bars and cafés around Brooklyn, she’d find a new job.

No, it was the idea of going back to another bartending job, or being a barista, smiling for tips, being polite to rude customers and dodging their advances. She was in her forties, and up until now, her life hadn’t bothered her. She made enough to pay her small bills, buy bodega sandwiches and the odd evening out with friends. It had been enough. Kicking off her shoes, she lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

It had been enough. Past tense.

It irked her to admit, but at the root of it, was Frankie. The way he’d talked about his life in Montana, so different to how she lived. How he couldn’t handle the noise and the rush of New York that she just took for granted. He just wanted to go back home to the silence, the big open sky, where his mind could be quiet. And for the first time in her life, she craved the same silence. And she craved him.

She sat up on the bed, staring at her small bookshelf. She could almost reach it from the bed, the room was that small and suddenly she couldn’t stand it. She took two steps across the floor and pulled out the book, finding his note at once. The handwriting was so neat and precise, it didn’t really say anything about the man who’d jotted it down. As she sat down on the bed again, she smoothed out the paper, ran her hand across his name before she looked around the the room again.

What do you have to lose apart from time?

Dignity?

Girl, what fucking dignity? You’ve just been fired from a dead end job, you live in a derelict Greenpoint relic that’s about to be knocked down, your life fits into two bags, one if you leave the books behind, what the fuck do you have to lose?

It was no effort to pull her phone from her pocket and look up the bus time table, just looking. Just checking to see what it would cost and how long it would take. She could afford the one way ticket, but not the return.

Fuck it.

They had bars in Montana.

Before she could change her mind, she pulled the duffel bag from under the bed. Her life really did fit into it, but she had to leave almost all the books, only two for the bus fit in the bag. In a final moment of uncertainty, she pocketed the key for her apartment instead of dropping it in the mail slot. Her whole life was packed up and on her shoulder in less than an hour, the thought both made her feel free and miserable. So many years with so little to show for it. But there was nothing to hold her back. One big leap made easier by her small bag, and it made her feel free.

The window in his bedroom was open when he went to bed a little bit later on the first night back, and he crawled under the covers, feeling his mind starting to churn the second he closed his eyes, the events of the past three days rolling inside him.

Maybe I should’ve tried a little bit harder? What if I’d stayed, got my own place?

He shook his head even as it lay on the pillow, he knew it was a pipe dream.

On my own, I would’ve been so fucked. Probably gone back to Eva, or worse. But maybe I should’ve asked for Aisling’s number, or given her mine, just to stay in touch. She must’ve felt the same thing, right?

He chewed his lip in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the prairie night outside with half an ear.

She probably didn’t feel the same way, why would she? You’re grasping at the thinnest fucking straws, Morales. She’s not fucked up like you, doesn’t need saving, she’s got her shit together. It was just like a regular hook up to her, she’ll forget you in a week or two.

He grabbed the pillow and rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in it as he shook his head.

Yeah, maybe, but she was still fucking pissed at me three days ago, and it had been what? A month? Would she still be that pissed if it meant nothing to her? Maybe if I give her some time?

Pendejo, she was pissed because you didn’t tell her you had a fucking girlfriend, any woman would be pissed about that.

He rolled the thoughts around his head, making lists in his head, pros and cons, feeling like his old army brother Will who always counted things, bullets, kills, days, months, number of times Frankie had fucked up.

But as his mind drifted back to his trio of close friends he could hear the advice they’d give, and in the darkness, it made him smile as their voices echoed in his head.

Will, the oldest and definitely the wisest, would cross his arms and give Frankie a thoughtful look, thinking through the options before he answered.

Herb’s right, Fish. Take it as a lesson for your next step in life. Maybe you’ll see her again, maybe you won’t, but don’t waste this opportunity to learn something about yourself.

Benny, the younger brother of Will, would shrug as he furrowed his forehead with a sympathetic look that didn’t really mean much, Benny could pull new women every night if he wanted too.

It sucks, Fish, she sounds special, but I mean…do you really want to be in a relationship now? We should go out sometime and have a bit of fun. You know I’m a great wingman.

Yeah right, Frankie thought, grinning to himself. Going out with Benny to a bar meant Frankie ended up as the wingman instead while every woman in the place made eyes at the muscular blonde guy. No one looked at Frankie when Benny was in the room.

And then there was Pope, his real brother in everything but blood. The disappointment from him about his many relapses had always been the worst to endure and it had made Frankie withdraw. In hindsight he knew it was all on him, but a piece of him wished Pope had tried harder to stay in touch when Frankie needed him the most. By now, it had been over a year since they last spoke. But Pope would always take one look at Frankie with those sharp eyes and see straight through him. And in this, he would set him straight about what he needed to do.

Go back, hermano. If she makes you feel like that, go do what it takes to have her in your life. Even if it’s just as a friend. What have you got to lose? Not many good things have happened to you lately, if she’s one of the few, fight for it.

Frankie sighed, rolling onto his back again, staring at the open window, a few faint stars visible. He’d pulled away from them all, from everyone in the past, in the depth of his addiction and then during his slow road to sobriety. He’d told them he’d moved to Montana only after he’d moved, sending them a text in the group chat about his whereabouts. Benny had given him a thumbs up, Will had replied saying something about whatever he needed. Pope hadn’t even replied.

Suddenly he missed them, more than he had in a long time, ever since they came back from the doomed mission to Colombia. A mission they had no business being on, a greedy grab for money disguised behind some sort of invented moral about going after a top narco lord. It had been a disaster, leaving them more broken than ever, their team leader dead, and their brotherhood almost torn a part.

He reached for his phone, finding Pope’s number and quickly, before he could change his mind, he typed a message and hit send.

Port Authority after midnight was even more of a shitshow than she’d expected, and she quickly made her way through the sparse crowd to the right bus stop. The bus wasn’t due to leave for another forty minutes and she pulled out her phone again, nervously tapping the locked screen. She hadn’t bought a ticket yet, her nerves holding her back. Butterflies, and not the good kind, fluttered in her stomach. Apart from short trips to Long Island, a few weeks living on Staten Island that she’d rather forget about, she’d never left New York. Never left the state, never had the money, or the need too. Now she was facing two days on a bus, leaving everything behind based on a shitty night and a man she hadn’t spoken to in three months. Her lip was chewed raw by the time she unlocked the phone and the bus rolled into the stop.

She stood with the phone in hand, looking at the screen, the small ‘Buy’ button taunting her, even as the driver opened the door and announced the departure. The other passengers began to load their bags into the hold, and still her thumb hovered over the button.

A high pitched squeak pulled her attention away from the phone and she looked towards the source of the sound, further down the plattform. A fat, well fed New York city rat, was attacking a pigeon, it looked like it’s wing was broken. As Aisling watched, the rat sank its long, yellow teeth into the neck of the bird, and dragged it underneath a dumpster by the wall. She heard another pathetic squawk from the pigeon and then it went quiet. With a shudder she turned back to the phone and hit ‘Buy’.

Fuck this city.

Frankie blinked in confusion at the bright sunlight that streamed across his face.

“Jeez…” he muttered to himself as he rubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw and glanced over at the clock radio on his bedside table. He hadn’t set his alarm and now he was later than he usually would be. His belly growled, reminding him that he’d forgotten to eat last night, and with a yawn, he dragged himself out of bed and into the shower to start the day.

He ate a can of ravioli from the pan while standing at the stove and poured the black coffee in a travel mug before he headed out the door. After reconnecting the battery the old truck rumbled to life and he gave it a grateful pat. At least some things were always dependable.

Herb greeted him back at the ranch and then sent him back into the routine of the day without nonsense, telling him to go over the tack of the horses that would be going out on the trail with a group of guests the next day.

Frankie was met by a sharp whicker as he stepped into the stable, two large heads turned to him as he pulled the door closed. The buckskin horse whickered again, bobbing its head up and down and Frankie chuckled, stepping over to her.

“Hey, Dolly, my girl. Did you miss me?” he muttered, scratching her forelock as she nudged his arm for treats, nuzzling close to his shoulder. Frankie rested his head against hers and inhaled the familiar smell of her coat as she affectionately nipped at his shirt.

“Sorry I left without saying goodbye,” he said, “but I’m back now, and I think I’ll stay. Gonna take you out later today, you can make sure I can’t walk tomorrow, my butt’s gonna be so sore.”

He chuckled at his own joke as Dolly gave a low whicker, her soft nose bumping his pocket.

“Sorry, I forgot to bring something, I’ll make it up to you later.”

She gave him a snort but seemed to forgive him as he continued to scratch her mane. After a few minutes he gave her a final pat and went over to the tack room, giving the other horse a pat too. His phone started ringing as he opened the door to the tack room and Pope’s name flashed across the screen. His thumb hovered over the green button for a few seconds before he drew a deep breath and hit it.

“Hey Pope, it’s been a while,” he said in greeting, dropping his eyes to his boots without even realizing, as if Pope was standing in front of him with those sharp eyes.

“It has, but it’s good to hear from you, Fish,” came the voice of his oldest friend on the other end, “You still in Montana?”

“Yeah, but I just got back from New York, long story,” Frankie replied, “All good with you, hermano?” Calling Pope brother was almost a code between them, a word only used when it meant something, when it was time to listen. The word a special signal between just the two of them, brothers in all but blood.

Frankie could hear Pope’s smile through the phone, a low chuckle almost in relief, “I’m good, hermano. Still in Florida, still with Linda.” Pope had started dating her back when Frankie had been deep in his addiction, and he’d only met her twice, neither time a very good memory. But from what he’d heard from Benny, she made Pope happy and they were good together.

“That’s great, man, I’m happy for you, I…I know I didn’t make the best impression on her, but she seemed great for you.”

“She is, and I’m…” Pope trailed off for a few seconds as Frankie heard the sound of someone moving on the other end, a low ‘bye, love you’ from Pope, and a door closing. “Sorry, she’s just off to work, yeah, she’s amazing, I’m really happy, found some peace, you know?”

Frankie shuffled his boots on the rough concrete floor of the tack room and leaned against the workbench, a sudden spout of jealousy tightening his throat.

“Yeah, I know, I’m happy for you, really, man. It’s great to hear that you found it.”

“What about you, Fish? You still clean, doing ok out there in cowboy country?”

Frankie could hear the smirk and the exaggerated twang in Pope’s voice and he chuckled.

“Yeah, I’m good, still clean, still working the ranch, but…uhm...Eva and I broke up. She moved to New York a while back.”

“Shit, sorry to hear that,” Pope replied, “But I…”

“Listen, man,” Frankie interrupted Pope, he didn’t want to go into the whole business with Eva over the phone, and he could hear his friend gearing up for a longer conversation, “I was thinking last night. I know I’ve been shit at staying in touch, but I want to change that. I’m not coming back to Florida any time soon, but maybe you and the Millers could come out here? I wanna show you guys my life out here.”

“Frankie,” Pope smiled down the phone, “I’d fucking love that, and you know the Miller’s won’t say no to some ranching. Let me talk to them, we’ll find some dates that work and let you know.”

“Awesome, man, it’ll be good, I’ll make sure Herb books you into one of the nice cabins.”

“And get me a horse that won’t buck me off,” Pope laughed at the other end and Frankie grinned.

“I’m not promising anything, might put you on the mule.”

“Fuck off,” came the instant reply.

“You’ll love the mule, Pope,” Frankie laughed before he glanced over at the saddles waiting for him, “Listen, I’ve got to get back to work, we’ve got guests coming tomorrow,”

“Alright, hermano, we’ll see you soon, ok?”

“Yeah, see you soon, hermano.”

Frankie felt the smile stretching his face as he hung up the phone, he felt lighter already. Guilt and shame had kept him away from his old friends, and reconnecting might not be easy. But this was a small step towards it and he needed to move forward. Put Eva and New York behind him, get over Aisling, learn from his mistake and rectify those he could. With a deep exhale, he hoisted the first saddle off its perch on the wall.

The Greyhound bus rumbled away down the pin straight highway, heading west, towards the darkening mountain range. The sun slowly sunk behind the highest peaks, soon their shadows would touch her feet. Looking back, east, towards a past she’s left on a whim, she sighed and let her eyes drift up to the indigo sky. Big sky country indeed.

So alien to her eyes, so open to someone used to living their life surrounded by tall buildings, busy people, small trees in small parks.

Here, the open prairie gave speed to the cold wind hurtling down from the mountain range, whipping dirt from the road, tugged at her loose hair. She briefly closed her eyes against the particles of dust, inhaled deeply, tasting it on her tongue, dry grass in the air, a hint of snow from the mountains. No way back now, the bus too far away to stop. Only her duffel bag and a phone number, hoping he’d pick up and let her in.

Aisling turned around and crossed the road, the bright lights of the gas station at the edge of town spilling across the dusty asphalt. She pushed open the door and nodded to the clerk behind the counter, dropping her bag by one of the small tables next to the coffee machine. His number was already in her phone, but she hadn’t had the courage to call him yet. But now she was here, and he was only a short car ride away.

She closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer, and tapped Frankie’s name on the screen, pressing the phone to her ear as it rang.

Chapter 7

A/N: So Aisling finally got herself out to Montana on a bit of a whim, spur of the moment decision. But how is Frankie going to react when she suddenly turns up on his doorstep?

tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @amyispxnk @thewiigers @lady-bess @missladym1981 @peppermintfury @typewriter83 @anoverwhelmingdin @vabeachazn

#frankie morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfiction

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bluecatwriter · 16 hours

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Top five instances of Arthur Holmwood crying on people

I cackled when I read this, but very quickly learned that I do, in fact, have a Top Five in this category! ;)

Crying on Mina when they first met. When he broke down sobbing on her shoulder, got comfort, told her he'd always help her and would be a good friend, and then they promised to be siblings to each other? That was My Moment with Arthur. Like, "Okay, ideal man, actually." That is when I latched onto him like a weasel clamping onto a bird's throat.

Crying on Jack. Despite having this scene filtered through Jack men-do-not-need-much-except-a-manly-squeeze-of-the-hand Seward's perspective, we see SO much of their relationship here, and it makes me go feral. Him acknowledging that Jack loved Lucy too and being cool with it? Throwing his arms around Jack and laying his head on his breast to cry? I AM GOING TO START BREAKING WINDOWS

Crying on Jack and Quincey on what would have been his wedding night. Okay, it's headcanon that he sobbed all over them, but it IS canon that he spent the night with both Jack and Quincey after staking Lucy's body. You can't tell me that there was not a lot of sobbing at that sleepover.

Crying right when Lucy died. This whole sequence really gets me, but just the picture of him sitting in the drawing-room, not having been able to even kiss her good-bye, crying in a way that nearly makes Jack break down. MY BOY

Crying on Van Helsing. This is another headcanon one, but on September 20th when Van Helsing offers to sleep on the couch across from Arthur so he won't be alone that night, I just imagine that some crying happened then, too. (The motif of people sleeping near Arthur so he won't be alone makes me want to beat my fists on the ground. THEY'RE ALL SO GOOD.)

(Ask game here)

#OUR art #arthur holmwood #dracula daily spoilers #ask games #answered

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 20 hours

Note

Vacation huh.....

Is Moon about to have his ass die again?

I never bought into the "suicidal Sun" theories.

Especially since Sun did not show a repeated pattern of troubling behavior after he got better coping mechanisms and never expressed interest in killing himself really.

Sun just wanted a reset.

What he really wanted was a nap.

And yeah, that is suicidal ideation. But he never showed signs of continuing that thought pattern much after Bloodmoon came back for real and he had other things to deal with and got better coping mechanisms for himself.

MOON ON THE FUCKING OTHERHAND.....

"If you need to sacrifice yourself do it"

"once this is done, I will just disappear."

....

Moon has a super repeated pattern of suicidal ideation and suicidal thought behavior FOR A LONG TIME.

And it's why Old Moon sacrificed himself as he did.

And NewMoon might do it again.

Especially if he can't live with the guilt, having driven everyone away with his lies.

Cause he is lying. If Eclipse (or foxy) was 100 percent right and that Moon was just doing this for an ego thing and didn't care about his family at all....

Why would Old Moon and Solar as his hallucinations/subconscious tell him how disappointed they are and what a failure and idiot he's being and acknowledging he's pushing his family away?

Why the hell would Moon confront Eclipse about being friends and telling Earth about his behavior if he didn't care how he hurt Earth?

He's mad he hurt Earth and blames Eclipse cus "Eclipse told her so it turned out this way so it's his fault!"

Yes, a warped thought process.

But Moon is in psychosis. His thought process is legitimately warped.

Moon will bring back Solar, it'll not be his Solar, and Moon won't be able to live with the guilt of what he has done and how isolated from his family and how he drove everyone away for nothing.

He hurt everyone he loved.

He did the exact opposite of Old Moon's wishes and the very core of his being.

This will shatter Moon.

And he will kill himself.

He will have nothing left to live for at that point and he'd be the biggest failure and a monster.

This is where his path is leading.

This isn't purely an ego thing.

Moon talking to his old self, feeling like a failure in everything, screaming to his hallucinations "YOURE NOT MY SOLAR."

He is literally insane and experiencing a psychotic break.

If I hear one more person telling me "psychosis isn't an excuse...."

YES IT IS!!!!

It legitimately is!!!!

His thought process is legitimately broken and Moon is walking a super dangerous path that will lead to his death permanently.

Because he failed everyone and he knows it.

He just needs this one thing to work.

He said he wants Solar back "More than anything"

If he just has him back, everything will be okay.

He has to keep lying to himself.

Otherwise he'll just crumble and die right now.

This is the ONLY thing keeping him alive right now.

#tsams #grief

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jujutsustraycats · 2 hours

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Hey ish! Your school would be starting in a few days and here a few things I wish someone told me when I was about to start my journey for 11th! Some of these might apply to you too even though the paths I have and you will be taking are completely different.

Next 2 years are gonna teach you a lot. They'll put you through the highest of high and lowest of lows. They'll change you as a person. They'll teach you so much about life (and also how people can be). Things would get overwhelming at times. You wouldn't understand what the fuck is going on at times. A lot of times you'd be left confused and hurt and alone for both, academic and non academic reasons. Also, you'd get a lot of career advice so you need to know how to filter out the useless ones! The best way to check authenticity can be reflect on the achievements of the one giving advice.

Even though your classmates might be in the same stream, you'll realise that everyone has a different story and that, in the worst ways possible too. There'd be times when it'd feel like none of your peers understand your visions and aim for future, there'd be times you wouldn't have a buddy to chat about your life philosophies with who also has the same opinions as yours (but remember to not give up on people as a whole okay? You'd find people you vibe with at the end of the day, you just have to be bold enough to put yourself out there!)

There'd be also times you might end up severely over worked and sleep deprived (but make sure not to drink so much coffee that your hands and shaking and your heart is beating so fast that your body goes into fight and flight mode thinking you're having panic attack lol). You know ish, these 2 years might completely make you or break you, but remember to not give up despite whatever situations you might end up in.

I personally was a several-Olympiad-gold-medalist kinda overachiever till 10th (even in 11th lol, i didn't sit for it in 12th because my priorities changed. And I overlooked it, don't do that. Celebrate your smallest wins and remember to appreciate yourself for the smallest milestones or you'll end up severely burnt out. It has happened to me twice over the span of last 4 years till now.) But even I ended up seeing the greatest academic downfall i ever had in front of my eyes at many times during these 2 years. And you should know that it's okay. A lot of people are going to be tough on you but try your hardest not to be one of them. Being kind to oneself can be difficult but try your best okay? And you said you are a perfectionist aren't you? Take care little dove.

I've seen a lot in these two years too. A lot of your academic experience also depends on what kind of teachers you get and me, personally, oh my teachers were pos and sadists. They'd bully me for the most stupid reasons (haha losers. You said i wouldn't be able to do it? Well. fuck y'all ✨ [you'd have to learn to be indifferent at times and not let their or anyone else's words get through you. Learn to develop a strong self belief.]) and I seriously hope you get better teachers.

But oh ish not every elder is bad, you'll get some amazing teachers whom you'd never want to break ties with. Hold on to them! okay? You'd also get really amazing friends who you'd know are going to last a lifetime and would be there for you in your toughest times. Hold on to them as well! Some bastards are too good to let go. Ha!

And also, in return, remember to be kind to your peers because you don't know what they might be going through (not to scare you but I had 2 of my friends who'd almost commit suicide, so yeah it can get scary for both, you and them at times but remember to heal them with your love and support. It's an age you all need each other!)

It's gonna be fun, full of lessons, scary, exciting and adventurous at the same time. You'd hate it sometimes and you'd love it sometimes, but despite all MASTI NAHI RUKNI CHAHIE!!! You won't ever get these 2 years back so make sure you don't walk out without making some amazing memories!! Vandalise stuff, copy the sign of principal to escape the school, bunk the classes (to study or not, your choice) have deepest conversations and most light hearted jokes and banters the exact other day, sleep in the class, eat from under the bench, give impromptu speeches on seminars and farewells, break rules....whatever ish. Whatever gets your heart pumping and adrenaline rushing. Because while it's the starting of peak years of your career, you should remember to be a human and have fun at times too. It's okay. It's normal. It's needed. One shouldn't be guilty about it.

Getting less than perfect marks on a few tests isn't gonna harm you as much as you think it will. The ones who love you will continue to love you. The ones who admire you will continue to admire you. The ones who support you will continue to support you.

Baki, main hun idhar hi ❤️ kabhi bhi kuch problem ho toh AA Jana apni badi behen se advice lene, I'll try my best to help you out. As I said the other day, the pain and trauma these 2 years have put me through has only served to make me more empathetic and protective of my juniors so if you come to me with loads of rants i won't say cliché things like "Stay strong". I'd first and foremost listen to you and simply that. I'd listen to you for as long as you want me to. Because sometimes you'd simply just wanna be heard ❤️

I'll try my best to be there for you! If nobody got you, I do! Remember that, okay? ✨

... Dear gods, I don't even know what to say. You made me cry. Like, tears actually sprung up in my eyes. Happy ones, though. Don't worry too much.

I'm not one for physical affection but I would've hugged you so hard if I were there. Thank you. This genuinely made my day.

#you're so sweet chechi thank you thank you for taking the time to send me this and to offer your support #never thought 🥹 would be me irl but here i am #hugging you tight rn virtually hope you know that #and i want to say that i'm here for support too okay? it's a two way thing. i'm also here to listen.#asks: nami!#familia nami #ish's favorites

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paigestrufru · 1 day

Text

Oh really ~ paige bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

might make a part 2?? (Prolly not cus im nervous im gonna get hate cus of how bad this is😭😭)

Warnings: language, suggestive, y/n use

AT PRACTICE you were all practicing simple shots and defense but like normal coach was being tough on you he could tell you were slacking and he knew you could do better.

“Y/N come here” coach said you pass the ball to Nika while you head towards him when your standing infront of him he asks “whats up with you today your missing easy shots” in your mind you already knew what he was about to say “im sorry coach im just tired” he rolls his eyes at this “ well looks like you need to start getting more sleep and less partying” crap how does he know i went out last night “ what have i told u about coming to practice hungover” he says giving you a stare” “im so sorry coach wont happen again” you say basically begging for him to not give u laps “2 laps now Y/N and make them fast” you sigh starting to run around the court.

As you start your laps u hear a familiar voice laughing you turn your head mid lap and see paige laughing at you, you roll your eyes while flicking her off and continue running coach blows his whistle and says “paige and Y/N your both staying after practice and putting up equipment since this is funny” paige pouts at this and u laugh.

After practice your running around collecting the basketballs while paige is grabbing the racks “so you went out last night” you hear paige say you rub your forehead not wanting to talk about it “ yeah it was my friends birthday” paige raised and eyebrow at this “and you thought it would be a good idea to come to practice hungover” you roll your eyes “ what was I supposed to do skip?!” You ask while putting the basketballs on the racks “ nah just now it makes sense why you were missing easy shots” paige says laughing “ oh cmon i could make those shots on you anyday” you say jokingly “oh really” paige looks at you while passing you a basketball, you looking confused but then accept the challenge

After a few minutes or so you and paige were throwing around a couple shots or so and she was definitely winning but still wanted to go easy on you because of your different skills. By any means you weren’t a bad player at all but compared to paige bueckers she blew you out the water but you both had different strong suits.

30 minutes later you and paige had wrapped up yalls game and started to finish cleaning “so i thought you could make those shots on me any day?” paige says while packing up her gym bag “really p?”she chuckles at this “you knew i was joking” you say rolling your eyes “yeah but i still had to prove you wrong” paige says while looking at you “oh really?” you reply while looking back at her “yeah oh really” Paige says while slowly waking towards you, when she gets infront of you she looks you up and down with those blue eyes but this time they have something behind them something you have never seen or felt. “you okay ma you staring pretty hard” she says breaking the loud silence then you realize you have been death staring her the complete whole time, you were so caught up with how good she looked u had zoned out of reality. When you look back up at her she is still looking at you just this time directly into your eyes “hush paige” you reply chuckling “i bet ill be the one saying that to you next time” you hear her say under her breath “what was that?” you ask “you heard me ma” she replies while backing up to grab her bag and walks out the door of the gym.

#paige bueckers #paige buckets #fanfic #smut #fluff #writers on tumblr #uconn wbb #first fanfic #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #olivia rodrigo #my life with the walter boys

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rafeyssangel · 3 days

Text

the hockey game / pt. 2 - r. cameron

warnings: mentions of drowning, kissing

pairings: hockey!kook!rafe x college!pouge!reader

a/n: i know i said i would post this at 200 notes but i got a little bit of ocd-ic and had to clean out my drafts

wc: 2.0k

you hesitated, a mix of frustration and curiosity swirling in your gut. sitting down beside rafe felt like a bad idea, but something compelled you to hear him out. cautiously, you took the seat next to him, keeping a safe distance.

“what do you want, rafe?” you asked, your voice tinged with annoyance.

“we need to finish our conversation,” he said, his tone serious. “you need to understand how dangerous barry is.”

“i already told you, rafe. my friends didn’t steal from him,” you insisted.

rafe sighed, leaning closer. “i believe you, but barry doesn’t. we need to figure out a way to convince him otherwise.”

“and how do you propose we do that?” you asked skeptically.

“come to my car,” rafe suggested. “we can talk there. it’s more private.”

you hesitated, glancing around the deserted park. being alone with rafe in his car felt like a risk, but the urgency in his voice made you consider it. reluctantly, you nodded.

“fine. but this better not be a waste of my time.”

rafe stood up, gesturing for you to follow. you walked in silence, the tension between you palpable. as you reached his car, you felt a pang of anxiety. this was a bad idea, you told yourself, but it was too late to back out now.

inside his car, rafe closed the door behind you. the small space felt claustrophobic, and you couldn’t help but notice how clean it was. not what you expected from him.

“sit,” he said, motioning to the passenger seat. you complied, crossing your arms defensively.

“so, talk,” you prompted, trying to keep your tone steady.

rafe leaned back in his seat, clearly agitated. “we need to make barry believe that your friends didn’t take his money. the only way to do that is to find out who did.”

“and how do you expect to do that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“i have some leads,” rafe admitted, turning to face you. “but i need your help to follow up on them.”

“why me?” you demanded. “why not just handle this yourself?”

“because you’re the only one i trust,” rafe said quietly, his eyes locking onto yours.

you scoffed. “trust? you tried to drown your own sister, rafe. how do you think i’m supposed to trust you?”

“i know i messed up,” he said, his voice breaking. “but i’m trying to make things right. can’t you see that?”

for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. it made you pause, your anger softening just a bit. maybe he was telling the truth. maybe he had changed.

“okay,” you said finally. “i’ll help. but this doesn’t mean i trust you.”

“that’s all i ask,” rafe said, relief washing over his face. he shifted closer, his gaze intense. “thank you, y/n. really.”

before you could react, rafe closed the distance between you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. the touch was unexpected, sending a shiver down your spine.

“rafe—” you began, but he cut you off, his lips crashing onto yours.

for a moment, you were too stunned to move. but then, despite everything, you found yourself kissing him back. his hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. it felt wrong, but also undeniably right.

“wait,” you gasped, breaking the kiss. “we can’t—”

“why not?” rafe murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “you feel it too, don’t you?”

you tried to protest, but the words died on your lips as rafe’s hands roamed your body, igniting a fire you couldn’t ignore. against your better judgment, you surrendered to the moment, letting him guide you into the backseat.

rafe’s kiss became more aggressive, his hands tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer. you felt your heart race as he pressed you against the seat, his body hovering over yours.

“rafe, we need to stop,” you whispered, but your voice lacked conviction.

“just a little longer,” he whispered back, his breath hot against your neck. “i need you, y/n.”

his words sent a jolt of desire through you, and you found yourself kissing him again, more passionately this time. his hands slipped under your shirt, exploring the skin beneath, and you shivered at his touch. the tension between you was electric, each kiss, each touch, heightening the intensity.

rafe’s hands moved with a newfound urgency, his lips never leaving yours. you could feel the desperation in his touch, the raw need. it was overwhelming, consuming, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt towards him.

“rafe,” you murmured, your voice a mix of desire and confusion.

“don’t think,” he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck. “just feel.”

you closed your eyes, giving in to the sensation. for now, you allowed yourself to be swept away, to forget the chaos that awaited outside this car. you let rafe take control, his kisses silencing the doubts in your mind, if only for a little while.

the aggressive make-out session continued, each moment more intense than the last. you knew you were crossing a line, one that would be hard to come back from, but at that moment, you didn’t care. all that mattered was the heat between you, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering for years.

when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. the reality of what just happened began to sink in, and you felt a wave of confusion and regret.

“we can’t keep doing this,” you said, your voice shaky.

“i know,” rafe replied, his eyes filled with a mix of frustration and longing. “but i can’t help it. i’ve wanted this for so long.”

you stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. this wasn’t just a moment of weakness; it was years of pent-up emotion, of unresolved tension. and now, it was out in the open, complicating everything. “let’s just focus on dealing with barry,” you said finally, trying to regain some semblance of control.

rafe nodded, his expression serious. “agreed. but this—” he gestured between you, “isn’t over.”

you didn’t respond, too overwhelmed to argue. instead, you opened the car door and stepped out, straightening your clothes and trying to steady your breathing. “i should go,” you said, heading back toward the park.

“y/n,” rafe called, his voice softer now. “be careful.” you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and walked away, the weight of the night heavy on your shoulders.

you walked through the park, the cool night air doing little to calm your racing thoughts. rafe's words echoed in your mind, a constant reminder of the unresolved tension between you. the path was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the ground, mirroring the confusion and uncertainty within you.

as you neared your dorm, the familiar sights brought a small measure of comfort. the ivy-covered walls, the old wooden benches – they were a stark contrast to the turmoil you felt inside. you reached the front door, fumbling with your keys, your hands trembling slightly.

inside, the hallways were quiet, most students already asleep. you made your way to your room, the soft carpet muffling your footsteps. once inside, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it, exhaling a breath you didn't realize you were holding.

the room was dark, only the faint glow of your desk lamp casting a soft light. you moved to your bed, sitting down heavily, the events of the night replaying in your mind. rafe's serious expression, the weight of his words – it was all too much.

you reached for your phone, considering texting him, but thought better of it. instead, you tossed it aside and lay back, staring at the ceiling. you needed time to think, to process everything. but sleep didn't come easy, and when it did, it was restless, filled with fragmented dreams and lingering doubts.

morning came too quickly, the light streaming through the window waking you from your uneasy slumber. you got up slowly, your body heavy with exhaustion. as you prepared for the day, you couldn't shake the feeling that things were far from over. and as you stepped out of your dorm room, you knew you had to face whatever came next, whether you were ready or not.

you stepped out of your dorm room, the weight of the night still heavy on your shoulders, only to bump into cali. her bright smile and energetic demeanor were a stark contrast to your exhaustion.

“morning, y/n,” she chirped, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in your tired expression. “late night?”

you managed a weak smile. “yeah, something like that.”

cali frowned but didn’t press further. instead, she grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the small kitchenette. “come on, let’s get some breakfast in you. i’m making pancakes.”

the smell of batter and syrup soon filled the room, a comforting aroma that helped ease some of your tension. you sat at the table, watching cali expertly flip pancakes. the familiar routine was soothing.

“so,” cali began, setting a plate in front of you, “are you ready for the game this weekend?”

you blinked, momentarily disoriented. “the hockey game?”

“yeah,” she said, sitting down across from you. “it’s a big one. everyone’s been talking about it. we’re up against our biggest rivals.”

you nodded, grateful for the distraction. “i know. it’s going to be intense.”

cali studied you for a moment, her gaze softening. “you know, rafe is going to be there too.”

your heart skipped a beat. “yeah, i figured.”

she reached across the table, squeezing your hand. “just… focus on the game, okay? everything else can wait.”

you took a deep breath, feeling a bit more centered. “thanks, cali. i needed that.”

“anytime,” she said with a grin. “now, eat up. we need you in top form for the game.”

as you dug into your pancakes, the weight of the night before started to lift, just a little. and as you talked with cali about the upcoming game, you found yourself looking forward to it, if only for the chance to put everything else on hold for a while.

after breakfast, the both of you went to the arena that buzzed with energy, the air thick with anticipation. you sat in the stands, the crowd around you a blur of school colors and excited faces. the rivalry game was always a big deal, and tonight was no exception. the tension was palpable, each cheer and jeer amplifying the electric atmosphere.

you scanned the ice, your eyes finding rafe almost immediately. he looked focused, his jaw set in determination. the weight of your last conversation still lingered, but right now, all that mattered was the game.

the first period was intense, both teams playing with unmatched ferocity. rafe moved with precision, his every move calculated. you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, despite everything. he was in his element here, and it showed.

cali nudged you, pulling you out of your thoughts. "he's playing great, isn't he?" she said, her voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

you nodded, your eyes never leaving the ice. "yeah, he really is."

the game progressed, the score remaining tight. each shot, each save, brought the crowd to the edge of their seats. as the final period began, the tension was almost unbearable. you watched rafe closely, every muscle in your body tensed with anticipation.

then, in a blur of motion, it happened. rafe broke away from the pack, skating down the ice with a speed that seemed almost unreal. the puck flew from his stick, a perfect shot that sailed past the rival goalie and into the net. the arena erupted in cheers, the sound deafening.

you found yourself on your feet, cheering louder than you thought possible. rafe's teammates swarmed him, the joy on his face unmistakable. for a moment, all the unresolved tension, the late-night conversations, everything fell away. it was just rafe, victorious on the ice, and you, proud and happy in the stands.

as the final buzzer sounded, signaling their win, you knew things were far from over between you and rafe. but for now, this moment of triumph was enough. the rest could wait.

#rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe fluff #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe x you #rafe x y/n

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