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melrodrigo · 9 months ago

Text

friends? p.2

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?

Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean

Word Count: 2k+

A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!

part 1

Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.

She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?

Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.

So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.

You.

You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.

At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.

But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.

You were, surprisingly smart.

Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?

Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.

It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.

"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.

It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.

"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.

She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.

"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.

You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.

She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.

You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.

"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.

She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"

"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.

"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.

"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.

His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"

Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.

She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.

"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.

"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.

He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."

The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.

Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.

It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.

You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.

"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.

"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.

You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.

You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.

A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.

Cairo Sweet.

Fuck.

Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.

You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.

Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.

"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.

"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.

She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.

You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.

Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.

"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.

She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.

"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.

Especially for her, you think.

"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.

"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.

"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.

Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.

"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.

You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.

You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.

Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.

"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.

"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.

You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.

She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.

The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.

"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.

She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.

"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?

She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.

"I don't like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.

Debating on what you can't be certain.

"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.

You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.

Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.

"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.

It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.

Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.

You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.

You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.

You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.

"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.

She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.

Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.

"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.

You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.

The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.

Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.

"Oh god."

#cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #millers girl #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #melrodrigo #mine #enemies to lovers

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mochalate · 9 months ago

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[intro] new notification!

msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 560 Atsumu discovers that the only thing worse than online dating, is dating advice online. a/n: oh look at that, another atsumu fic!! this one is less stressful for me though. its pretty short, with a cute little plot that won't cause me planning paralysis. making edits for atsumu is always so fun <3 i hope you'll read it!!

[chapter 1->]

r/relationship_advice • 3 hours ago

u/fattytuna95

I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.

It's not as bad as it sounds. She's not really his girlfriend.

I'll try to explain.

We're colleagues, sort of. (Me and her— I'd rather starve to death than work for my brother.)

Last month, someone took a picture of us leaving the office. I was only walking her to her car but the person who took the picture wanted to imply that we were dating.

And that wouldn't have been an easy rumour for her to handle, so I got my brother (identical twin) to post a picture with her on his socials.

Obviously, just one picture wouldn't work to convince anyone, so they've been meeting up a couple times a week (they have similar interests, so they were friends already) to be seen together.

Now here's the issue— I never saw her like that before, and I thought it was just fucking annoying to watch people be lovey dovey, fake or not... but one of my other colleagues said it sounded like I was jealous.

And fuck, I am.

Do you think she'd be mad if I asked her out? I reacted pretty badly to the original picture. And I'm worried my brother likes her for real (those photos they're posting are kind of convincing...)

Edit: for everyone asking, no, I can't ask my brother. he'll know why, and if he really does like her I don't want to mess with it. and if he doesn't he won't let me hear the fucking end of it. i can hear the best man speech already.

↑ 25 ↓ •••

u/unicornpoodle • 2 hours ago

lol dude (I'm assuming you're a dude, unless you're a girl who unfortunately is built exactly like your brother) are you sure you like her and aren't just jealous of your brother being happy? fake or not

↑ 50 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago yeah i'm sure. I cut out a picture of one of my teammates and pasted it over his ugly mug and it made me even angrier. ↑ 35 ↓ •••

u/msbygirlie_13 • 2 hours ago

Oh hey!! I recognise you from the atsumu miya subreddit!! That's so cool you have a twin just like him!! And his brother got a gf recently too!!! (I think they're fr tho lol.)

Okay hmmm this is a tough one. wdym when yuo said 'reacted badly'??? and what was so bad about the rumour in the first place if it's an option for you now???? this is kinda weird ngl.

↑ 42 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 2 hours ago do you really they're the real deal??? I kind of laughed. And now that I look back at it, I think I might have looked way too eager to put it out there that we weren't dating. like I was disgusted or something. :( I wasn't, I just didn't want her to have any trouble. :( :( I'm sorry, I can't explain the situation any more for privacy reasons. ↑ 20 ↓ •••

u/guiltyassassin_ • 1 hour ago

well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?

lmfao you guys are either celebrities or highschoolers with this kinda drama

(also you keep calling your brother ugly, but then say you guys are identical? huh????)

↑ 5 ↓ •••

u/fattytuna95 • 55 minutes ago This is kind of an insane idea, but it does make sense. Maybe I'll do it. (and you wouldn't get it.) ↑ 2 ↓ •••

first chapter tomorrow! please like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed it :) it keeps me going lol [my other fics->] divider: @/cafekitsune

#atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #fluff #my fic

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diorsluv · 8 months ago

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casual , part 11

“ but we’re ”

series m. list previous chapter next chapter

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty, and 111,103 others

yourusername ur favs are back 😈😈

tagged: luca.fantilli, rutgermcgroarty, markestapa, edwards.73, vivianliu

view all comments

username10 aww this is my fav type of post

username1 BUBBLES

→ vivianliu my fav powerpuff girl 🫧

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_alexturcotte 1/3 of these pics have some sort of suffocation going on… are you guys okay

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username46 wheres my girl vivi 😔😔

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username21 the chaos is so endearing

_quinnhughes i thought u said vivian wasn’t going with u guys

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trevorzegras you need to invite me

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username39 when do i get a friend group like this 😕

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markestapa ngl that card game was fire

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luca.fantilli we never hang out anymore 😔

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rutgermcgroarty you have no good photos of me do you…

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adamfantilli the shoe game is fire

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→ rutgermcgroarty 🥱🥱🥱

→ dylanduke25 😴😴😴

username71 it’s so cute how ur always together

edwards.73 stop teaming up with rut when we play card games

→ yourusername but you and i always compete against each other

→ yourusername it’s like.. our thing 😟

→ edwards.73 well maybe i wanna change our thing

→ luca.fantilli not possible bro u can’t change a “thing”

username93 luca, rut n mark r dressed up as powerpuff girls like TELL ME IM WRONG

lhughes_06 i don’t like this horsing around mess

→ yourusername stop speaking like an old man for the love of god you’re TWENTY.

→ lhughes_06 respect your elders

→ yourusername oh lukey it’s funny that you think i would

mackie.samo i shouldn’t have left i miss you

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→ yourusername we miss you too ☹️

rutgermcgroarty

liked by colecaufield, yourusername, and 100,004 others

rutgermcgroarty its national best friend day look its my best friend

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername it’s not national best friend day 😑

→ rutgermcgroarty then its my national best friend day

→ yourusername we live in the same country. two blocks away from each other.

→ rutgermcgroarty its an appreciation post 😕

→ yourusername rut sweetie i know u appreciate me u tell me every day

→ rutgermcgroarty NO I DONT

→ yourusername okay you show me every day

→ rutgermcgroarty WHY WONT U LET ME APPRECIATE U

→ yourusername p sure the boyfriend’s gonna get mad 😖😖😖😖😖😖

→ rutgermcgroarty whats stopping him from posting an appreciation post

adamfantilli ok whats the likelihood of him actually posting an appreciation post LMFAOO

→ rutgermcgroarty 0.0001%

username29 ooooo the bf’s getting called out

username27 AWW THE CREEPER HATS

username18 minecraft besties so aesthetic

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→ username30 😧

markestapa the way she’s barely at your shoulders LMAOOO

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→ rutgermcgroarty stop trying to save face we know how tall you are

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→ mackie.samo you’re actually 7’6 yourusername

→ dylanduke25 or maybe she’s 4’6 💀

username14 guys what if the bf posts her but it isn’t ethan

→ username68 i’d cry

luca.fantilli best friends but u dont even have pics of her 🙄

→ rutgermcgroarty real best friends got no pics of each other 😔😔

→ luca.fantilli i have pics of u???

→ rutgermcgroarty but we’re men

→ yourusername isnt it supposed to be the other way around??

edwards.73 ik what ur tryna do

→ rutgermcgroarty do u tho?

_alexturcotte deliberate beef (?)

→ rutgermcgroarty perchance.

→ markestapa you can’t just say perchance.

→ mackie.samo you can’t just say perchance!

→ dylanduke25 YOU CAN’T JUST SAY PERCHANCE.

→ adamfantilli YOU CAN’T JUST SAY PERCHANCE!

→ luca.fantilli YOU 🫵 CAN’T ❌ JUST 😓 SAY 🗣️ PERCHANCE 🤷‍♂️

→ yourusername god what is this nonsense

lhughes_06 mhm 🤨

→ rutgermcgroarty i thought u supported my aspirations

→ lhughes_06 mhmm 🤨🤨

username45 are u trying to make ethan jealous

username89 one day they’re gonna get into an actual fist fight

next chapter notes ) so… i was going back over old chapters of feather and i realized they used to be SO short??? like why did i suddenly start making everything longer but for the sake of the plot and my sanity i’m ACTUALLY going to be reverting to my old ways this time (not lying!!!!) and it’ll be easier for me to get chapters out 😭

tags: @dancerbailey3 @hughesfein @loveforaugust @alwaysclassyeagle @love4ldr @inhoodmood @bunting58 @crazycat-ladys-blog @smoooore @bunbunbl0gs @lilasianmeat

#ethan edwards #ethan edwards fanfic #ethan edwards fic #ethan edwards x y/n #ethan edwards x reader #luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #mark estapa #dylan duke #mackie samoskevich #trevor zegras #alex turcotte #cole caufield #adam fantilli #luca fantilli #rutger mcgroarty

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fanficforlife · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter Seven

"And?" Anna asked, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

"And, we dropped Tate off at school then we picked up a few things for the ranch. After he took me fishing at the river. We didn't catch anything but I did push him in. He pulled me in with though."

There was laughter on the other end of the phone and you couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Oh, honey. I'm so happy for you. Have you told him yet?"

"Um, one time when we were kissing a few weeks ago it started to go a bit further, I freaked out. A flashback of the last time Nick..."

"And?"

"I told him that Nick r-raped me. He figured it out actually and I just confirmed it. I know I need to tell him everything but I'm scared. I...I really like him. What if he changes his mind about me? What if he tells me to leave because he doesn't want to risk it if Nick does find me? He has Tate to think about so-"

"Violet," she cut you off, "if he's as great of a man as he sounds, everything will be okay. Especially since his father and brother know and they asked you to stay after you told them."

"Yeah..."

"There's only one way to find out and the longer you wait, the harder it will be for you to tell him. It's kind of like a bandaid, just rip it off."

"I know, you're right. John is watching Tate tonight so Kayce and I can have dinner. We're going to have it in an old trapper's cabin on their property. If we tried to in the house, Tate would be there talking a mile a minute... I should, I will tell him tonight."

"It's going to be okay, hun."

"I hope so." You glanced at the clock on your nightstand. "I should go so I can start getting ready."

"Alright. Don't worry about telling him, honey. I love you and I can't wait for you to tell me that he didn't change his mind because of him."

"I love you too. Tell James I said hi. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know how it goes. Have a good night."

"You too. Talk soon, hun."

A knock on your bedroom door drew your attention away from your reflection in the mirror. You opened it to see Kayce standing there wearing jeans, a black button-up shirt, his boots, and a cowboy hat.

His jaw dropped when he saw you. "Letty, you look amazing."

"Thank you." Heat crept across your cheeks as you looked down at the simple flowy, knee-length black dress with straps tied into bows on top of your shoulders that you had on. "You look nice too. I even got clean jeans this time." You teased. The other times the two of you had spent time together, it was usually during work or right after he was done. He was almost always dusty or dirty, not that you were complaining. He always looked good.

"Only the best for you." The red on your cheeks darkened and he smirked, stepping forward. He leaned in and gave you a small, soft kiss. "Ready to go?"

"Mhm." You slipped your hand in his waiting one and headed for the front door.

The two of you walked hand in hand across the yard and through some trees until you got to the cabin. He opened the door for you and the smell of pizza hit you. One of my favorites. "You remembered."

"Of course I did. It's pretty easy since it's also one of Tate's." He came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you your waist. "I had to go to town to pick up some stuff for the ranch so I picked one up for date night." After placing a kiss on the side of your head, he took your hand and went inside.

An hour later your plate was still full and you hadn't spoken more than a handful of words. You had only been able to pick at the slice due to the nerves already filling your stomach.

"Baby?" Kayce's hand wrapped around yours, pulling you away from your thoughts. "Are you feelin' okay?"

"Yeah, I just- I'll be right back." You got up and went into the washroom. Your hands gripped the edge of the vanity. Tears pricked your eyes from the what if's. What if he breaks up with me? What if he wants me to leave? What if he gets mad? No, it doesn't matter. I have to tell him. After taking a deep breath and forcing the tears back, you opened the door.

He immediately stood up and walked over when he saw the look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"I...I'm ready to tell you everything."

He guided you to the couch and you both sat down. Your eyes immediately went to your lap. "Hey," He gently hooked his finger under your chin and lifted it. "Remember, no matter what."

A sad half-smile formed before you took a deep breath. "Um, it-it was always just me and my mom. I never knew my dad and she didn't have any other family. She was the best. She was a waitress at this great little restaurant and during high school, I started working there too." Your hands wrung together tightly. "The...the last month of my senior year I met Nick. He just finished training to be a police officer and started at the station a few blocks from the restaurant. He asked me out a week later. My mom didn't like him but she said it was my decision. Ten months later she died in a car accident. She was always trying to get me to break up with him but I loved him. I should have listened to her..." You trailed off as happy memories of your mom played through your head.

"I'm sorry, baby." His hands reached for yours and you squeezed them gratefully.

"I couldn't afford our rent by myself so Nick asked me to move in with him. Everything was good for the next year. Then the real Nick started to poke through. When he got mad he would call me names or say things but he always apologized and everything would be okay again. It went on like that for a couple more years. He became a detective and was great at it." You swallowed. "His parents were having a dinner party with their friends and family the night of my twenty-fourth birthday. They invited us and Nick insisted we go so we went. Before dinner, his parents thanked everyone for coming. Then Nick went up. He asked me to marry him, I said yes. The dinner party was actually to celebrate our engagement. Things went downhill from there. He went from just saying things to grabbing and pushing me. He was always jealous but it started getting worse." You took a shaky breath at the memories. "He wanted me to quit waitressing even though I loved it. His family came from money, his dad's the mayor, his mom stayed home. He never had to worry about working if he didn't want to. Whenever we were out and he had to introduce me to family or friends, they would make a disgusted face, like I wasn't good enough. I could tell he was embarrassed I was just a waitress so I quit. It wasn't long after that that he started getting mad about me still hanging out with my friends. I didn't have many, just a few people I worked with. He eventually cut them out of my life. That's when I started baking, I needed something to do. I also had to keep the house spotless or he'd get mad." You took a deep breath while Kayce's hand had a death grip on yours. "One day when I was doing laundry I found a girl's phone number in his pocket. When he got home I confronted him about it. He got mad at me for going through his stuff and admitted he had been cheating on me the entire time we were together. I took off my ring and set it on the table. He...he hit me."

Kayce let out a gruff breath.

"He apologized right away and swore he would stop. I knew I shouldn't but he has a way of getting into people's heads and I believed him."

"He didn't change." Kayce gritted out and you shook your head.

"A couple of months later I smelled perfume on his shirt. He kept picking up girls at the bar or getting together with old ones. I tried to break up with him and he got mad. He said the other girls didn't matter. I was the one he wanted to marry and be seen with. I laughed and he hit me, hard. He picked me up off the floor and pushed me against the wall, he said I couldn't leave because he needed me and couldn't live without me. He said he'd stop. He begged, got on his knees. I knew...I knew I should have left but I was scared, he was all I had. The things he said, I wanted to believe him. The next few months we moved into a new house and his mom and sister said we should finally start planning the wedding because I kept putting it off. I tried on dresses worth more than a years worth of rent for my old apartment, tried countless flavors of cake. We set the date for ten months later but there was something deep inside, a feeling. I couldn't marry him. When I told him, he lost it. He threw pictures on the floor, swore, and said terrible things. I told him I would stay so he would stop. After he fell asleep, I threw a few things in a bag, took the money he had in his wallet, and snuck out. He found me a few hours later at a motel on the edge of town. He dragged me home, hit me, choked me. I ran into our bedroom but couldn't lock the door in time. He threw me onto the bed and...and said he needed to remind me that I was his."

"Fuck." Kayce's fist hit the arm of the couch. "Letty, baby." His hand came back to yours.

You gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. "The next few weeks, I acted like nothing was wrong. I made dinner, went to his family or friends when he wanted. When he got mad he would hit me, choke me. I was outside having coffee one afternoon when the neighbors came out. They saw me and invited me over. I talked to them a few times in passing but it was always just a hi. I invited them over instead so if Nick came home early he would know where I was and wouldn't freak out. They told me all about their lives. He used to be a lawyer before he retired. They didn't have any kids, they loved traveling. I lost track of time and Nick came home. He was mad because dinner wasn't ready until he saw I wasn't alone. He changed back into the fake we're the perfect couple Nick as they got up and left. The second the door closed he hit me. He thought I told them about what he was like and since they didn't know him they would believe me. He didn't want me to talk to them anymore. I knew I had to get out but I didn't have my own money. I wasn't working and my name wasn't on his bank account or any of his credit cards. I started hiding the money I found in his pockets when I did laundry or what he left lying around on the dresser. I would take money out of his wallet whenever there was a lot in there so he wouldn't miss it. After a month and a half, I had almost two thousand dollars. When he went to work that day I packed a couple of bags and left. He found me two weeks later in Mississippi. He grabbed me and threw me in the car but on the drive back to California, he was quiet. He was the Nick from the very beginning of our relationship. He said he didn't know what he was thinking the past few years, cheating on me, hitting me. He said he would go to a therapist, we could go. I wanted to believe that he actually changed this time but the closer we got to Southaven, where we lived, the more scared I got. Our neighbors were outside when he pulled into the driveway. Nick told me to stay in the car and he would open the door for me. The little sliver of hope I still had disappeared because I knew why he wanted to open the door. He didn't want me to talk to them. After he grabbed the bags, he opened my door and said he would do the talking. They asked where I went because they hadn't seen me around, Nick said I went to visit my mom. They knew my mom was dead because I still went over to visit them after he told me not to. Before they could say anything else he grabbed my wrist and took me inside." You took a deep breath as your hands started to tremble.

Kayce moved closer to you and slid his arm around your waist. His other hand came back to yours.

You held onto it tightly and stared at your entwined fingers as memories of that night played through your head. "I've never seen him that angry. He did everything like he would before; yelling, hitting, choking. But, harder, longer. I was lying on the kitchen floor trying to catch my breath after he choked me and he...he grabbed a knife." Kayce inhaled harshly. "He made the cut on my face so if I ran away again it would be easy for him to find me. I could change my hair, wear hats, different clothes but everyone would remember the girl with a scar down her face." You could feel the rage emanating off of your boyfriend. "He made me clean up before he dragged me into the bedroom and...he..."

"He's dead. He's fucking dead." Kayce swore, knowing what happened next.

"After he said he would kill me if I ran away again, I didn't know what to do. If he found me after two weeks, I thought he would be able to find me anywhere. I did whatever he wanted because I was scared of him. I was miserable. I started thinking about e-ending it...me." Your voice was whisper quiet. Kayce gently pulled you onto his lap and leaned in, kissing your shoulder. You looked over and smiled at the sweet, caring man who was the opposite of your good-for-nothing ex.

"I was on the porch checking our mailbox one day when our neighbors came out to do the same thing. They saw me and invited me over for a glass of iced tea. I knew Nick wouldn't like it but they insisted so I did. While they were telling me about one of their recent trips my sweater slipped off my shoulder and they saw a bruise on my arm in the shape of a handprint. I told them Nick stopped me from falling down the stairs but I knew they didn't believe me. I tried to leave but they stopped me and begged me to leave him. I told them he wasn't as bad as they thought. By then they knew he was a cop and who his family was. They let me go, if I promised to visit them whenever Nick was at work. They were the only thing that put a real smile on my face. I loved spending time with them. Nine days before I was supposed to marry Nick I was at their house and they handed me an envelope. Inside was five thousand dollars and a fake ID and birth certificate. When James was a lawyer, there was a guy in his firm that had a case involving fake documents, he tracked him down and got him to make me some. They told me they had a bus ticket with my fake name on it that was leaving in forty-five minutes, and a suitcase full of clothes for me. I didn't want to go, I was scared Nick would find out they helped me. After he cut me he said if I ever run away again, he would kill anyone who helped me. But, they wouldn't take no for an answer. They had a wig for me to put on before I left so when he looked at the traffic cameras by the bus station he wouldn't know it was me. When they dropped me off they gave me the phone so he couldn't track my number. Before I got on the bus they gave me a hug and told me I was like the daughter they never had..." you swallowed before looking at him with tear-filled eyes. "If-if you don't want me to spend time with Tate anymore because of Nick, or you-"

"Stop." He cupped your face. "Nothing that that piece of shit did to you changes my mind." His perfect eyes pierced yours. "I love you, Letty."

"You-you don't have to say that because of what I told you."

"Baby, I fell in love with you the first time I saw you. Your hair was blowing in the wind as you stood in front of the house with your suitcase. I knew then that you were it for me. You are the kindest, strongest, bravest, most beautiful woman I've ever met. I am the luckiest man in the world because you let me call you mine." His voice was filled with emotion. "I love you, Violet."

"Kayc," tears started to fall from your eyes.

"I'm not expecting you to say it back. We can move as slow as you want, as you need. I'm not going anywhere." His thumbs brush the tears off your cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"

You leaned in and pressed your lips against his, giving him your answer. Your hands slid over his shoulders and pulled him closer as the kiss intensified. Nick disappeared from your mind and For the first time in you didn't how long, you wanted more.

When you finally parted you were both out of breath. "Letty?" He could feel this kiss was different.

"I...I want to..."

"But?" He knew you were holding something back.

"What if we start and I can't?"

"If you want to try and you need to stop then we stop."

You chewed on your lower lip nervously.

"Baby, I'm not going to be mad. I told you that I'm not going anywhere. You are the only woman I want to be with. I'll do whatever you need me to and wait however long you need."

You nodded slowly. "Can we try?" Your voice was quiet.

"Yeah, baby." His hand slid across your cheek. "Can I go outside and grab more firewood first? It's starting to cool off in here, you're starting to get cold." His thumb ran across your cheek.

"Mhm." You stood up and he followed suit.

"I'll be right back." He gave your forehead a soft kiss before going outside.

In the meantime, you grabbed the blankets off the couch and made a cozy spot on the floor in front of the wood stove.

He came back in with an arm full of already chopped logs that were piled up against the side of the cabin. A smile pulled at his lips when he saw the makeshift bed on the floor.

"I'm pretty sure that's the most uncomfortable couch in the world." You giggled shyly.

He put a couple of logs on the fire and set the rest on the floor before walking over. One of his hands went to your waist while the other came up and rested along your jaw. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you're not ready, it's okay. I'm perfectly happy just holdin' you."

"I want to." You swallowed. "I want you, Kayce."

"I'm yours, Violet." He leaned in and kissed you.

After a few seconds, the need you felt for the kiss to develop into something more returned and your fingers started unbuttoning his shirt. His hands left you so you could slide his shirt down his arms. As it fell to the floor, you pulled his T-shirt off. He unzipped his jeans and added them to the pile while you untied the straps of your dress. It pooled around your feet and his eyes took you in.

"You are perfect."

Red crept across your cheeks while he closed the distance, one hand went to your cheek while the other went back to your waist. You shivered from the sudden cool touch.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," you giggled.

"Come here." He sank down onto the blanket and you sat down on the floor next to him. "Better?"

You nodded as you immediately start to warm up from the fire and the blanket that he pulled over the two of you. Your hand came up and slid across his jaw before pulling him in.

His hands went to your waist and held you close while he kissed you. Your mouth parted, your tongue slid across his as the kiss quickly became heated. He unhooked your bra before slowly lying you down. Your lips finally parted and he hovered above you. "Do you want to keep going?"

"Yes."

"We can stop anytime you want to, just say the word. Okay?"

"Okay."

He sat back so he could take his boxers off and grab a condom from his wallet while you pulled your underwear off. His eyes traveled up your naked body before he crawled back between your legs. You nodded as he looked down at you so he reached between you and positioned himself before slowly entering you. Your eyes automatically closed and you tensed up.

He immediately pulled out. "Letty, open your eyes. Look at me." You did and the second you saw his warm brown eyes, you relaxed. His hand slid into your hair. "Do you want me to stop? We can and-"

"No, don't stop. Please."

"Stay with me, baby." His eyes pierced yours as he entered you for the second time. "Right here."

You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. "Mmm." A small moan escaped as he filled you. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into you again, all while keeping your eyes glued to each others. Your ex and all of the terrible things he did vanished from your mind. It was just you and your cowboy. Your hands slid into his wavy hair and pulled him down, your lips met his fiercely. He kissed you back while continuing to move inside you. One of his hands stayed embedded in your hair, the other slid around your lower back and held you close. That small shift had him hitting just the right spot over and over again.

"Kayce," your fingers dug into the back of his shoulders.

His hold on you tightened, molding you to his body as he continued thrusting.

"Mmm," you moaned as heat began growing rapidly in your core. Your breathing picked up and within seconds he took you over the edge. "Kayc!"

"Letty." He was right behind you groaning your name. His eyes held yours until you both came down from your highs. When your breathing started to return to normal, he leaned in and gave you a long kiss before lying down next to you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Are you okay?"

You looked up at him and smiled. "I'm okay. More than okay." He chuckled huskily as he tucked your hair behind your ear. "Really though, I am."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Yes. It was just you and me. Everything else, the memories, they disappeared." Your hand came up and rested on his cheek. "You are an amazing man, Kayce Dutton. You're kind and sweet. You were beyond patient with me and when you found out about my past you didn't run away. You make me feel normal again. You make me feel safe." Your thumb ran across his skin. "I love you."

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. When you parted there were tears in your eyes. "Hey, talk to me."

"I just...I'm happy. After the past couple of years, I never thought I would be again. Then I came here and found you and Tate. Your family and everyone here have been amazing."

He wiped away a tear that slipped from your eye. "This is your home now, Letty. He is never going to hurt you again. I won't let him get anywhere near you."

"Promise?" You asked while memories of the horrible things he did played through your head.

Kayce could tell what you were thinking and pulled you closer. "I promise."

"Thank you."

"I know I've said it before but I would do anything for you. I love you." His lips met yours and you melted in his arms.

When you parted, you both lay there nestled together under the blanket, listening to the crackle of the fire. All of the cows on the ranch were marked with the Yellowstone brand, a Y, but this was the first time you had seen the same brand on Kayce's chest. Your fingers traced over the raised, scarred letter that covered most of his left pec. "Did it hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you do it?"

"I didn't, Dad did."

You quickly tilted your head back and looked at him with wide, watery eyes. The tone of his voice, you knew it wasn't because he asked his dad to do it. "Why?"

"Hey, shh." He smiled softly when he saw the tears in your eyes. "Come here." His arms tightened around you and pulled you close. After kissing you, he eased back onto the pillow. "I graduated a couple years before Tate's mom got pregnant. We met at a party and it was just a one-night stand. When she got pregnant, she came to the ranch because she heard about my family, the money. We found out that she got arrested regularly because of drinking. She didn't work and a lot of the money she did get from the tribe she spent on alcohol. She didn't want a kid and came out to say if I didn't either then she was going to get an abortion. But, if I did, she would keep it as long as we paid her. Dad said yes, as long as she didn't drink while she was pregnant. Dad even paid for an apartment for her to live in while she was pregnant because she couch surfed from place to place before. She didn't drink during the first four months but one day when Dad went to check in with her, he saw a couple of empty beer bottles. After that she did off and on until Tate was born. Thankfully, he was in perfect health. She didn't want anything to do with him and signed him over as soon as she could. That was the last we saw of her. She died a couple of months later. Her and the guy she was with were drinking and driving. They hit a tree." He took a deep breath before continuing. "It didn't really sink in that I was going to be a dad until the nurse came out to where Dad and I were waiting and handed him to me. He was so small. The first two weeks after we brought him home were rough. I was scared. I was still a kid, how was I supposed to take care of one? I didn't think I could, I didn't want to try...I panicked and joined the Navy. I could leave for training in a few days. Dad freaked out. He told me I wasn't going and had to stay and take care of my son. We argued, and when he realized I wasn't going to change my mind he did this. He thought that it would make me needing to stay here sink in. It didn't. I was angry at him, scared of my son...I left. That's when Dad hired Mrs. Sanders. While I was gone Jamie and Lee kept in touch; calling, letters. They sent pictures. I finally came to my senses when Tate turned six. I quit the Navy and came home. I-I know Im a horrible dad-"

"What? Kayce, no." You propped yourself up and turned his face towards yours. "You are an amazing dad. Tate loves you."

"I shouldn't have left. I was selfish and stupid and-"

"And, I know that you would take it back if you could."

"In a heartbeat. I would have stayed, I should have stayed."

"But, you've made up for it. You and Tate have an amazing relationship. He looks up to you. You're the foreman of the largest ranch in Montana, he wants to be just like you when he grows up." He nodded slowly. You knew what was going through his head. "What you told me doesn't change how I feel about you. You are a great dad, a hard worker, and the most amazing man I could have ever hoped for. I love you."

"I love you too, Letty." Your lips met for a searing kiss. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you."

"Technically, I think I found you."

A playful smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and he chuckled. "I think you're right."

"I'm right? Wanna say that again?" You laughed when he squeezed your sides.

"You're right, this time. Don't get used to hearing it though." You giggled before starting to sit up.

"No." He whined.

"I'll be right back." You reached for his shirt that was lying close by and slipped it on, doing up a few buttons, before getting up and going to the kitchen. When you turned around with what you went to get, Kayce was watching you with a smile on his face. "What?"

"You look good in my shirt."

"Yeah?" You straddled his lap, after setting two bottles of water and the pizza box on the floor close by.

"Yeah." His hands went to your waist and pulled you close. "Stay here with me tonight? We don't have to do anything. I just want to fall asleep with you in my arms."

"What if I want to do that again?"

"We can do whatever you wanna do, baby." He smirked and it made you bite your lower lip. That smirk is going to drive me crazy...in a good way.

**************

Tag list: @saintnourah

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kurishiri · 6 months ago

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10 . . . “ that which the avaricious madness seeks ”

— ⛓️❤️ elbert’s main route chapter 10 premium story.

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: obsessive or possessive behavior, objectification.

Elbert: Kate——I want you.

Kate: ...!

——It was not a confession of love.

That was the one thing I understood very clearly.

Kate: But why, so suddenly...

Elbert: Because, you are beautiful.

I couldn’t hide my hesitation at that answer, which did not waver once.

Kate: But... didn’t you say that... you couldn’t tell if something was beautiful or not?

Elbert: Yes, but I feel I understand it now.

E: You are beautiful.

E: ——That’s why, I want to have you.

E: So, become mine, Kate.

Kate: ...

No matter how much I searched his eyes, I couldn’t sense any lie nor deception.

For a moment, I almost took his word for it, but I stopped myself.

(No, there... there is something off...)

What I felt from his eyes wasn’t something sweet like love.

Rather, I felt the same as the time when, at the party we infiltrated, Lord Elbert had poured obsession and madness over the painting of the sea.

——The reason why he seemed to want something was to atone for his sin.

(If what Alfons said was true, then...)

—— Flashback ——

Alfons: Let me just warn you, though — the more you wish for happiness, the more Elbie will try to hurt himself.

—— End flashback ——

(Could it be that now, he’s...)

(...trying to hurt himself in order to have me...?)

Because when I’m with him, he is completely able to breathe.

Because he shouldn’t be able to.

Kate: To use words like ‘have’ toward another person...

K: That’s not like you, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: ...Really? ...I have a deep greed, so... it’s a word I use often.

E: I want the beautiful you. So, I want to ‘have’ you.

E: ...Is there, something strange about that?

I understood his flow of logic, but seeing him treat people as objects clashed with my image of the Lord Elbert I knew.

(When I was being treated like an object myself, Lord Elbert protected me.)

—— Flashback ——

Middle-aged gentleman: Now, that just won’t do, a rubbish stone like you, standing among the finest gem in the showcase.

White-haired lady: Truly… she is a disgrace to beauty.

Elbert: ……Could you stop?

E: Touching her, criticizing her… please stop that.

—— End flashback ——

(He should know that being treated like an object is discomforting.)

And yet, to use such objectifying words himself on others... it makes me wonder if he doesn’t really mean those words.

Kate: When you say ‘become mine’... what exactly, does that entail?

Elbert: ...Exactly as it sounds.

E: For a start, I... want to keep you in that room.

Kate: ...

E: I want to keep you inside, and... so that you won’t ever escape, lock the room.

That lonely room where there is no moving thing, no living thing, filled with beautiful things,

and those hollow eyes of the taxidermied animals and specimens, all passed through the back of my mind, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

Kate: What... will happen to me, in your room?

Elbert: ...I don’t know.

E: Because, this is the first time I thought... of having a human.

E: But... maybe we can find out... ‘how far to go.’

E: It’s okay... I won’t do anything to hurt you.

But when I saw those empty eyes bely his smile, my heart stung.

(Even if I’m locked in his room alive, or I’m killed and put up as decoration...)

(‘Having’ me will surely... not make Lord Elbert happy.)

(Lord Elbert himself even said so...)

I don’t know what sin he is trying to atone for.

But, if his atonement is wanting beautiful things, having them... hurting them...

(If I don’t want to see him sad anymore,)

(I——must never become his.)

Kate: If you lock me, and you have my body,

K: I won’t ever become yours, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: ...Why?

Kate: If you really want me, then start from my heart.

Elbert: Your heart...?

Kate: T-that’s right.

I know it was a desperate excuse, but right now I need to stall for time.

Time to get my thoughts in order, and think about what I should do.

With this resolve, I searched for words.

Kate: If you capture my heart first, then I will happily give you all of my body.

(This almost feels like... deceiving a devil from one of those stories.)

(But, Lord Elbert will surely hear my wish out.)

(Because, he is... a kind person.)

Elbert: ......I see.

E: Then, I’ll take your heart. So that, all of you can become mine.

That smile, which seemed to be filled with a madness that resembled being possessed, was so beautiful it sent shivers down me.

(...But thank goodness. With this, I’ve bought some time.)

(Time to think of a way Lord Elbert doesn’t have to hurt others any more.)

I placed my hand on my chest in relief, and Lord Elbert tilted his head.

Elbert: ...So, how will I know if I have your heart or not?

Kate: Eh? Umm...

(I need some action to show it. Something I would never do against my will—)

Kate: If I... kiss you.

I said the first thing that came to mind.

Kate: If you take my heart, I will show it with a kiss, from me to you.

Elbert: ......Alright.

With that, Lord Elbert finally averted his eyes from me...

...and he collapsed onto the bed.

Elbert: ...I’m, a little tired.

His whisper seemed to contain a trace of hurt, and when I remembered the things that happened here just before, it made my own heart sting.

Kate: Please get some rest now.

Elbert: ......Thank you.

At our gentle exchange now, the madness in his eyes just before seemed like a lie.

(But...)

That dark, heavy obsession I felt lingered on the palm of my hand, which was being held by Lord Elbert’s.

Elbert: Kate... what is this?

Kate: Hm?

Elbert: Your finger is hurt. ...From when?

When I looked down at my finger, I could see that, as if my index finger had been grazed, it had turned red.

Kate: Ah... maybe from the doorknob.

Elbert: Doorknob...?

Kate: When I put my hand on the doorknob, the door opened from the inside, so it was probably from then.

(I was so caught up on making sure Lord Elbert was alright... I didn’t notice I’d gotten hurt.)

Kate: There’s no blood, and it doesn’t hurt. It should be fine.

Elbert: ...It’s not fine.

Kate: Eh...

Elbert: It’s not fine, for you to be hurt.

Lord Elbert’s lips slowly approached the red wound on my index finger.

Kate: ...Nn...

Elbert: ...May you feel better soon.

He left a fleeting kiss on my finger, as if casting a spell to make the pain disappear, and my heart fluttered.

(You say things like how you want to lock me and how you want to make me yours...)

...but the way he gently soothed my wound, was surely a part of the Lord Elbert I knew.

And that’s why, my heart hurt so bad, I could hardly bear it.

Kate: Um... Lord Elbert, I’m fine now, so, your hand...

Elbert: ...I won’t let go.

Lord Elbert’s hand doesn’t loosen, but rather tighten around my palm.

Elbert: Because, someone else might steal you away while I’m sleeping...

Kate: ...I won’t be taken that easily.

Elbert: That’s not true. It would be easy.

E: The people in the manor know, that you are here in this room.

E: If anything happened to you, I would not like that.

Lord Elbert shifted his attention to the door, fixing his eyes on it.

It was like he was a being of the wild that was wary of a predator that might come in.

(...Has he always been like this?)

Seeing him like that squeezed my heart to the point it was painful.

(Lord Elbert was... not able to relax in his own home.)

(When did this start... and why?)

For that, I had to know what was the sin that had burdened Lord Elbert, who simply accepted the mistreatment he faced.

But, Alfons said digging deeper would be dangerous.

Maybe... I would end up reaching a point where we could no longer laugh or smile together.

(But, I can’t simply sit here and watch Lord Elbert suffer more than he already has.)

I didn’t want him to be sad.

You are a very kind soul, and so——I want you to smile.

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hbyrde36 · 1 year ago

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No Vacancy

Chapter 6: Guest Relations

WC: 4465 | R: Explicit | CH: 6/12 | AO3 | Now Complete!

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch4 Ch 5

*STEVE*

“Well, I'm sorry you wasted so much of your time on me.”

Eddie’s words reverberated in Steve’s head as he watched him turn and walk away back down to the beach.

He wanted to follow, to fight for what he’d seen in the other man’s eyes in the seconds before they’d kissed. He was almost sure now that Eddie liked him back.

It made the rejection that much more painful.

He spun on his heel and made his way back to the Buckingham alone, replaying the entire thing over and over again in his mind along the way. He was a little angry, a lot hurt, but also so, so fucking confused.

It just didn’t make any sense.

In hindsight it was obvious now that Eddie had been jealous when he’d seen him and Danny together the night before. That’s why he was so mad—so flustered— enough to flee the motel at the crack of dawn just to avoid seeing him. And when Steve kissed him, Eddie kissed back.

Oh god how he had kissed back.

Naively, Steve had thought that was it—it was finally happening!

But no, Eddie pushed him away, literally and figuratively, and now he was left to wonder if he’d somehow misread everything.

He couldn’t deny that Eddie was, at the very least, physically attracted to him. That much had become abundantly clear in the last few minutes. But maybe that was all it was, and all of Steve’s talk about caring, and being worried, and feelings had freaked him out.

Steve hoped to sneak past the motel's front office and make it to his room without running into anyone, and by anyone he meant Robin, but of course she spotted him through the glass front doors and came running out to greet him, hands waving like he might have somehow missed her.

He took a deep breath and tried to school his features into something that he hoped looked a little less devastated than he currently felt, but must have failed in his attempt spectacularly because one look at him made her own face fall.

“Are you alright?” She asked, wringing her hands.

He blew out a long breath, dropped his gaze to the ground as a wry chuckle falling from his lips. He didn’t have the energy to lie to her.

“Not really.”

“What happened? Did you see Eddie?”

“Yeah,” he whispered softly, looking back up at her with a sad half smile. “Yeah, I saw him.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Steve knew how much Robin loved him, that she would do anything to make him feel better, but he wasn’t ready for any of that yet. He didn’t want to do this—didn’t want to explain what an idiot he'd been. He just wanted to slink off and hide under a rock somewhere for eight to twelve hours and feel sorry for himself.

Sometime soon he was sure he’d love to sit with her and overanalyze as they drank a few bottles of red wine and had a good cry about it.

But not right now.

“Not really, if that’s okay. I think I just want to be alone for a while.”

“Of course that’s okay,” She said, stepping into him and wrapping her arms around his waist the way he knew she’d wanted to do since she’d first laid eyes on him.

He hugged her back, breathing her in as the two of them stood in the middle of the parking lot holding each other, uncaring of the world around them. Eventually Steve pulled back, dropping a kiss on her head before they stepped apart.

“Call me if you change your mind,” She rushed out as he moved to leave. “I have ice cream in the freezer and I can be at your door in two minutes flat.”

“I will.”

It wasn’t really a lie. He would call her if he changed his mind, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen.

What he really needed was some sleep. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically drained—thankful that he had another day off tomorrow. The thought reminded him of the conversation they’d had at dinner the other night and he felt like an asshole for not bringing it up sooner.

“Did you ask Chrissy about tomorrow night yet?”

“No, that’s…” Robin waved a hand dismissively. “It's dumb. I'd rather just forget it.”

“Robin!” He leveled her with an unimpressed look, a little less sharp than usual but he was doing his best. “You have to go talk to her right now—I’m serious.”

“No, I'm serious.” She said, shaking her head. “I’m not gonna ask you to watch the desk after all this.”

“Oh my god, for the last time you didn’t ask, I offered! And it doesn’t matter what’s happened, I can still watch the place. I want to do it, and if you really want to make me feel better you’ll go on the damn date tomorrow, have a great time, and come back to tell me all about it.”

She sighed, a heavy defeated sound. “That’s a cheap shot. Fine, I’ll ask her in the morning.”

“But-”

“Don’t push it, Harrington.”

Steve pulled out all the stops—raised eyebrows, hands on his hips, foot tapping the pavement impatiently.

“Don’t give me that shit,” Robin mumbled under her breath. “Look, the sooner I ask her, the more time I'll have to freak out about the actual date, so I figure, why not put it off as long as possible?”

“But you’re already freaking out.”

Her eyes narrowed, arms crossing over her chest. “Don’t stand there and attack me with logic.”

“Alright, alright. You do what you want. I’ll come down in the afternoon to see how it went and you can show me whatever I need to know to keep the motel afloat in your absence.”

“Not much you need to know to cover for me for two hours, but sure, I’ll see you then.”

Steve smiled at her, or tried to at least, and walked off towards the stairs to the second floor.

The room was dark when he got in, the sun having set while he spoke to Robin and he hadn’t bothered to leave a light on for himself when he left.

He didn’t bother turning one on now either.

He stripped down, leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor and threw himself into bed, face buried deep in the pillows, and screamed into them until his throat was hoarse and he eventually cried himself to sleep.

In Steve’s dream someone was playing with his hair, carding their hand through it in the most soothing way. People were always afraid to touch his hair. They assumed he’d be mad at it getting messed up because of the time and effort he put into it every day, but it was one of his favorite comforts.

He stirred from sleep gradually, confused when the fingers running over his scalp didn’t disappear with the rest of the dream, and blinked his eyes open, surprised to find someone sitting on the edge of his bed.

No, not—someone.

“Eddie?”

The hand moved from his hair down to caress his cheek, with a touch so gentle it made his eyes sting. He let out a quiet gasp and nuzzled into it without thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot, and I'm so sorry.” Eddie said softly.

Steve couldn’t believe what he was seeing, much less what he was hearing. It wasn’t real—it couldn’t be..

“Is this a dream?”

Eddie leaned down, resting his forehead against Steve’s as they breathed each other in. Their noses brushed, lips almost touching.

“No, Steve. Not a dream. I… shit.” Eddie cursed, pulling back “I-I don’t know how to do this.”

The air that surrounded them, so thick with tension, caught in Steve’s throat. “Do what?”

“Talk.”

With that one little word something in Steve snapped.

Eddie was probably right, until they talked he would have no idea what any of this meant, or what had changed the other man’s mind and brought him, not just back to their room but into Steve's bed, but for once in his goddamn life he didn’t want to talk. He barely wanted to think.

He just wanted Eddie.

Steve swept his covers aside revealing that he was lying there dressed only in a pair of thin boxers and rested a hand on Eddie’s knee, slowly sliding it up his thigh as he sat up, bringing their faces close together once more.

“Maybe we don’t have to talk. Not yet.” He said, gaze dipping down to Eddie’s lips as licked across his own.

Eddie groaned, a deep rumbling sound in his chest. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

It probably wasn’t—it definitely wasn’t but Steve was like a man possessed.

“Do you want me?” Steve asked, nails digging in where his fingers still played along Eddie’s thigh.

“Steve.” Eddie whispered his name, making the word sound like a cross between a warning and a prayer.

“Do. You. Want. Me?” Steve asked again, more insistent this time, and released his grip on Eddie's leg to skim up under his t-shirt, fingers brushing over the trail of hair on his lower stomach.

Eddie tensed, sucking in a harsh, shuddering breath. “Of course I fucking want you,” he practically growled, reaching out to grasp Steve by the wrist. Not stopping him or pushing him away, just holding him there.

“I think I’ve always wanted you.”

The last was said so softly, in such contrast, as if he hadn’t really meant to say it aloud. Steve let the words wash over and through him, not ready to think about what they may or may not mean, before surging forward, at last closing the short distance between them to crash their lips together.

All that mattered right now was this moment, the feeling of Eddie’s mouth on his, their bodies pressed together, Eddie’s nails scratching lightly down his back.

Steve tugged roughly on the front of Eddie’s shirt and leaned back, trying to guide the other man down on top of him, but Eddie resisted, breaking the kiss.

“I’m gonna to get sand all over your bed,” he panted.

Steve sat back up, taking Eddie's earlobe between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to make him gasp.

“Oh?” Steve breathed, letting out a hot puff of air against the other man’s ear, and felt him shiver. “I guess you’ll just have to take your clothes off then.”

Eddie swallowed, audibly. “Jesus Christ.”

Then he was pulling back to stand, and while Steve sat perched on the edge of the bed gazing up at him, Eddie quickly tugged his shirt up and over his head, revealing an expanse of pale chest and torso decorated with intricate black and gray artwork.

Steve was on his feet in an instant, circling. He’d seen Eddie shirtless before but had never allowed himself to really see and admire him properly

Tonight, he would look his fill.

Some of the tattoos were familiar, the bats and puppet master pieces on his arm were always on display of course, but set up high on his chest just below his collarbone was a demon skull with dead eyes and tendrils of dark stringy hair flying around its head, and a large terrifyingly realistic black widow spider. Steve could remember catching glimpses of those back when the two men were still in school together, on the rare occasion Eddie would actually show up for gym class and be forced to change in the boys locker room with everyone else.

The rest was less familiar—a creeping pattern of darkly inked vines and wild roses that began on his right side just under his ribs. They trailed across his back, snaking down and around to the other side of his body over the front of his left hip. The flower buds were all different sizes and in various states of bloom and decay, but it was the bloodied thorns speckled throughout, the only spots of color on Eddie’s body, that grabbed Steve's attention the most. He traced the intricate lines and swirls with his fingertips, following their path along Eddie’s skin to where it eventually disappeared into the waistband of his pants, letting his hand rest lightly on Eddie’s fly.

Done examining, at least for now, Steve kissed a trail up the column of Eddie's throat as he quickly worked the other man’s belt buckle open, popped the button on his jeans, and dipped his hand in, wrapping his palm around Eddie’s hot, hard length for the very first time.

Eddie moaned and wound his fingers through the hair on the nape of Steve's neck, gripping it tight and forcing his head back. Steve’s mouth dropped open in surprise, the hint of pain making his entire body flushing with heat. Then Eddie's lips were on his, his tongue forcing its way inside as if he needed to taste him again more than he needed air.

Steve began to slowly stroke Eddie’s cock as best he could inside the confines of his jeans, pulling a whine from his throat that Steve swallowed down greedily. He loved how responsive Eddie was to his touch, yearned to hear what other sounds he might be able to coax out of the man with his efforts, but Eddie didn’t let it go on for long.

Without breaking their kiss, Eddie forced him back, until the back of Steve’s knees hit the bed, sending him tumbling down to the mattress. Eddie shoved his jeans down to his ankles, kicking out of them in a rush before climbing up onto the bed, cock swinging heavy between his legs, his body hovering over Steve’s. Eddie kissed his mouth once, an almost innocent brushing of lips compared to what they’d been doing so far, but quickly abandoned Steve's mouth to explore the rest of him.

Eddie kissed, and licked, and bit his way down the length of Steve's body, starting with the delicate skin of his neck, and ending with a scrape of teeth along his hip bone just above the waistband of his boxers.

Meeting Steve’s eyes as though asking permission—as if Steve would deny him anything—Eddie slipped his fingers into the elastic on either side of Steve’s waist and waited, the patient expression on his face belied only by hunger in his gaze. Steve nodded eagerly and Eddie wasted no time yanking the boxers off and tossing them aside, the last strip of clothing between them, setting Steve’s own achingly hard cock springing free.

Eddie stared for a moment, something like reverence in his gaze, before returning to his work, sucking a bruise into the skin of his inner thigh, carefully avoiding the one area Steve was most desperate to be touched.

Steve whined, squirming even as Eddie kept a tight grip on his hips, urging him to remain still.

It was too much, watching Eddie with his head nestled between his legs, practically worshiping him, but he still wanted more. Steve bucked, and thrashed, tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

He wanted Eddie to just touch him, already. He needed more, he needed him to–

“Fuck me,” Steve cried out, the words tumbling out of his mouth without his permission, desperate and whoreish even to his own ears.

Eddie paused his movements, his eyes cast down, lips still pressed to Steve’s skin. “What did you say?”

“Please,” Steve begged, past caring about how he must sound. “Please, I-I need you—need you to fuck me.”

Eddie looked up, wide eyed and mumbling something to himself.

Steve only caught the words “I knew” and “dangerous.” He didn’t know what that meant, and he honestly didn’t care because a second later Eddie wrapped his plush lips around the head of his cock and and sank down, taking Steve’s full length all the way to the back of his throat in one go.

In the morning he might be embarrassed, worried they'd been overheard, but in the moment Steve moaned, loud and completely unrestrained, heedless of the amount of noise they were making when it felt this good. Eddie hollowed his cheeks, bobbing his head at a slow pace as he smoothed his hands up and down Steve’s calves and thighs. The touch was tender, affectionate, and that feeling of too much and yet not enough came bubbling back up in his chest with a vengeance.

Steve continued to beg, a chorus of “please, please, please” falling from his lips even as Eddie’s mouth brought him closer and closer to the edge of coming. When he was reduced to a wordlessly babbling, panting mess, Eddie finally pulled off, working him by hand while he grabbed a nearby pillow, sliding it under Steve’s hips.

Eddie dove back in, but not to take Steve’s cock back into his mouth. He moved lower, and using both hands to pull Steve's ass cheeks apart, spat directly on his hole.

The feel of it had Steve throwing his head back, mouth slack and wide open as a wanton sound was ripped from his throat that he would swear he'd never made before. His dick twitched and his whole body shuddered with it. He had no idea that being spit on was something he’d be into, but the evidence was damning. He felt hot all over, his skin on fire, and for something that should have been gross, it was anything but.

Eddie huffed a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knee as he spread the rapidly cooling saliva around the puckered skin of his entrance, before pushing the tip of one finger inside.

It wasn’t until Eddie had worked the digit in past his knuckle and the slightly cold metal grazed Steve’s rim that he realized Eddie still had his rings on–and fuck, that really did something for him too. Steve whimpered, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood—so desperate to be filled that when Eddie added a second finger, he flung his hands back flat against the headboard, using it as leverage to push himself down, trying to fuck himself on Eddie’s hand harder.

“Easy,” Eddie whispered, pressing lips to his leg again. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

He continued to kiss a line down Steve’s inner thigh, all the way to the place he was pumping his fingers in and out of at a torturously slow pace, and ran his tongue along the edge of Steve’s hole, letting more split trickle down to ease the glide.

Steve’s eyes rolled back as he felt a third finger work its way inside, shouting when at the same time Eddie took hold of his cock again, licking a wide stripe from the base to the tip before swallowing it down.

While the first two digits had entered him easily, the last had Steve feeling the burning stretch that he craved, and he reveled in it—sinking into the pleasurable pain.

He felt the world around him go quiet in the way it sometimes did when he had really great sex. The whole universe narrowed down to the warmth enveloping him and the fingers inside him, and for just a moment he thought—even if this was only a one time thing, it might just be worth having a broken heart for the rest of his life if he got to have this, here and now, tonight.

It wasn’t long before Steve felt himself relax, could feel how Eddie was able to plunge in and out of him freely now. He was ready, he was so fucking ready, and he couldn’t stop himself from making high needy sounds to spur the other man on.

Eddie made soothing noises in return, saying softly, “I know, I know you’ve been so patient. I’ve got you, you’re going to get everything you want, I promise.”

Steve winced a little at the empty feeling as Eddie eased his fingers free, leaning off the side of the bed to reach for their shared nightstand, quickly retrieving a condom and bottle of lube—Steve's judging by the color of the bottle. He sat back on his heels, tearing the packet open with his teeth, never looking away from Steve’s face as he rolled the condom down over himself.

Steve waited to be told to flip over, or a nudge to his hip, a not-so-subtle indication that it was time for him to turn and assume the usual position, but it never came. Eddie smoothed his hands over Steve’s thighs again, the same loving touch he’d given him before, and then took his own cock in hand, giving it a few lazy strokes before lining himself up with Steve’s entrance. Inch by inch Eddie pushed inside, hiking Steve’s legs up and falling forward, bracketing Steve's body with his hands on either side.

Oh.

Steve fought not to let it show, what he was feeling. He hadn’t expected them to do this face to face. He’d been prepped a similar way before, but found guys usually wanted to fuck him from behind.

It was incredibly intimate like this. Staring into each other's eyes from inches away while Eddie made gentle shallow thrusts felt a lot more like making love than fucking—and that, more than anything, was going to ruin him, Steve was sure, but he couldn't stop it now. Wouldn’t give this up, no matter the cost.

As Eddie finally bottomed out he leaned down, capturing Steve's lips with his own for a moment, and pressed their foreheads together again, just like he had when Steve first woke up. He eased his hips back slowly, only to snap them forward again, hard and fast, punching a shout out of Steve's chest, a sound that Eddie swallowed down as he slotted their mouths back together again.

They never stopped kissing, even as Eddie pounded into him, harder and faster, nailing that sweet spot inside him with every stroke, until Steve was brought right to the brink.

He was close—so fucking close and Eddie hadn’t laid so much as a finger on his dick since they’d started going at it.

Eddie was close too, Steve could feel it in the way his cock pulsed inside and the rocking of his hips became more and more erratic.

And then Eddie did break the kiss, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between their bodies and jerk Steve off. It felt amazing, but the relief of finally getting friction on his poor neglected cock, was overshadowed by the loss of Eddie’s lips. He keened, unable to stop the sound from escaping his throat, but before he could even be embarrassed about how needy and clingy he must sound, Eddie was there, feeding at his mouth like a starving man.

Maybe needy did it for him.

“Are you close, baby?” Eddie murmured into his mouth, not daring to break their kiss again to ask.

Baby.

“Yes,” Steve gasped. “So fucking close.”

Eddie kept slamming into him as they panted into each other's mouths, not so much kissing really as sharing breath and rubbing their lips together, but it was enough, and after two final powerful thrusts Steve was coming hard—his vision whiting out as he shot off in hot, thick spurts between them. Eddie followed him over the edge straight after, cock pulsing inside while Steve’s walls clenched down around him.

Steve never felt Eddie pull out, never noticed him leave as he floated on the high of the most intense release he’d ever felt. The next thing he knew, Eddie was walking back to the bed, a damp rag in his hand to clean them up.

As Eddie gently swiped the cloth over his chest and stomach Steve came back to himself, and tried not to panic about what happened now. He told himself he’d be fine no matter how things played out. If Eddie climbed back into bed with him to cuddle and sleep it off, then that was great, wonderful, perfect.

And if instead he got into his own bed, turned over and went to sleep? That was going to have to be okay too.

When they were as clean as they were going to get without the help of a shower, Eddie threw the washcloth in the direction of the bathroom and crawled back into bed at his side— leaving a deliberate space between them.

They stared at each other over the chasm of inches and it suddenly hit Steve that Eddie was just as afraid of what came next as he was.

He saw his own fear and anxiety reflected back at him through big brown eyes—and the tightness in Eddie's body that disappeared when they began fooling around had returned, even worse than before.

Steve pulled his lip between his teeth, watching as Eddie followed the movement—and he didn’t know who moved first but they crossed that invisible line at the same time, wrapping each other up in a tangle of arms and legs that left him wondering where he ended and Eddie began. Not sure he cared to ever figure it out.

They laid together, unspeaking, in the quiet dark for a long time, while Eddie stroked his hair and kissed his temple so many times that he lost count. Eventually Steve’s eyes slipped shut, and it would have been all too easy to drift off surrounded with all that comfort, but they still hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room.

Steve forced his eyes open, shifting so he could see Eddie's face clearly. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth to speak, and let out a huge yawn instead, somehow still managing to get the words in the end. “Why did you come back?”

Eddie smiled sadly, cupping his cheek, tracing what Steve imagined were dark circles under his eyes with his thumb. “You’re tired. We can talk tomorrow.”

Steve wanted to argue but Eddie was right, they were both exhausted.

“Will you still be here in the morning?”

“Of course. I mean, I do live here, Stevie.”

Steve smiled, pretty sure mild teasing was a good sign.

He settled back down into Eddie’s side, rubbing his cheek against the sparse hair on his chest, accepting that their talk could wait, but he still wanted to be clear.

“You know what I mean. Will you be here, in this bed, with me.”

“I will. I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise.”

“And we’ll talk?” Steve asked, voice gone softer than a whisper as his eyes fell closed again, sleep pulling at him in a way he could no longer fight.

“Yeah baby,” Eddie replied just as softly, pressing lips to the top of his head. “We'll talk as much as you want.”

Chapter 7

Thanks forever to @penny00dreadful for being the best friend, cheerleader, and beta in the whole fucking world💜

Taglist: @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming @epiclazershark @estrellami-1 @lokfae @raisedbylibrarians @impala314 @meganwinchester @kacatshi @warlordess @eddie-munsons-lunchbox @garden-of-gay @meela86 @gregre369 @finntheehumaneater

#steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #90's beach motel au #no upside down au #double idiots to lovers #steddie #buckingham #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #cw smut #no vacancy

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5-7-9 · 5 days ago

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Okay I’m pissed. Read WFA’s We Are Robin’s chapter. Sure, it gets the themes right, whatever. There isn’t a lot of good to say about getting the surface level topics correct, it’s just accurate.

What I’m mad about is Troy. The casual dismissal of Troy’s death as “wishing to not let untrained kids play vigilantes” or whatever.

That’s not what Troy’s death represents at all. Troy’s tragedy was so much more than that.

I actually was taken a little by how most of Duke’s friends reacted after, Riko Dre and Izzy, they kept going despite how scary that was, that fascinated me a lot. I thought more of them would react like Dax did, lose just a tiny bit of hope, especially Riko who also admired a batfam adjacent symbol like Dax did. Troy was the loss along the way, but they knew long ago it was a risk since they started their journey. Might be because the story was so short and had to move quickly anyways, but it still shows that Troy’s death was part of their motivator, not their obstacle. Their path is to save lives, including their own.

YES IT WAS YOUR FAULT! It absolutely was his fault!!! Forget about sugarcoating it!!!!!!!!! Stop making Duke sugarcoat the batfam’s guilt for no reason either, it’s just weird. Ewwwwww *shudders* 😰 Just let it be man!!!!

i just find this pitiful expression of Troy’s death a bit annoying. Just a little bit.

“Them” “I” not “We” ?????????? Ughhhhhhhhh how could you have Duke refer to We Are Robin through “them” pronouns instead of “we” pronouns UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Shug-R and Oracle…. I mean that was the seemingly natural conclusion to a side support, but Shug has shown to get in on the action too, albeit less so. I have no clue if she’s even tech smart, she just uses a computer? If WFA assumes going on a computer means you’re tech smart then idk how to break it to them. It’s fine to mention, i just wonder why it feels like an off note, could’ve easily integrated Shug by having her text them herself, to feel more involved instead of separated. But i digress

Dre smiles too much. It’s weird. I’m creeped out everytime.

Oh man, Riko would’ve soooooooooo hit Damian. Since Izzy wasn’t there to beat him up again.

Half of this story not about Duke, which is fine but i didn’t realize WFA switched over their formatting, they combined 2 chapters into 1 to make it longer i think. Might be a Season 3 only change?

this might the the only time the WFA artist attempts to draw canon accurate Duke ever instead of this 🥺 sad nervous scared face that makes me want to punch his face in, and he looks so funny (i also think the smirks Tim does looked funny too, and out of place but i’m unsure why. I just have no idea why Tim is smirking so much or so strangely, but yeah)

So Duke’s We Are Robin appearance isn’t over? Is this an arc?? So i still have to wait and read more chapters just to see Duke??? Horrendous idea, how dare.

We Are Robin’s canon accurate designs might look cooler if drawn by Starbite 🤔 right now they just look bland for no reason. I mean, their actual outfits had more detail, and Riko is just wearing some rando clothing for no reason

#duke thomas #We are robin #reviewing WFA chapters i guess #This isn’t hard analysis just so y’all know

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gretavanfleetposts · 1 year ago

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Fire in the Water: Chapter Six

Summary: You had thought dating a vampire would be the most complicated thing you'd ever done. But as it turns out, becoming one is even more complicated. The boys are determined to make your transformation as smooth as possible while each fighting to maintain the relationships they once had and those they now lust for. Author's Note: As always, I'd like to thank the lovely @gretasmokerising for inspiring me and encouraging me and @earthlysorrows for editing and helping me piece everything together/brainstorm Content Warnings: swearing, talk of blood, descriptions of murder and blood drinking, talk of sex and sexual themes, oral (m. receiving) (18+ minors do not interact) Word Count: 8k

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You came to just in time to hear an argument exploding in the background, ringing in your ears. But Sam was quick to pull you out of the house, dragging you by your wrist and refusing to let you see either of the twins. It wasn't until you made it past the treeline that you pulled your wrist free finally, angrily.

"Why did you do that?" you all but screamed.

"He needed to know," he said without even pausing his footsteps that carried him away from you.

He had insisted that you needed to hunt as Jake had zapped you of most of your energy by putting you into a sleep-like trance, your body fighting him unconsciously the entire time. But you didn't exactly feel exhausted by it. You felt rejuvenated. In fact, you were more ready than ever to lunge at Sam again.

"This is about you, isn't it?"

Your accusation stopped him dead in his tracks. Even before he turned to confront you, you could tell he was angry. He closed the distance between you quickly, a fiery look behind his eyes.

"It's about not dragging Josh's heart through the fucking dirt if you’re going to run off with Jake."

"Who says I fucking am?"

"Oh sure," he scoffed, "little miss 'would do anything to feel a soul tie'."

He was so condescending when he said it, like you were a child who believed in magic and created whole worlds around the concept, untouched by reality. But the reality was, you felt you had no choice in the matter, even though Jake's comment about Danny not being able to see anything past your turning had left you with a glimmer of hope.

"You're being unfair," you scowled.

"You're being loud."

He left you standing where you were, staring at his back as he ventured deeper into the woods. And he only stopped when he realized you weren't following.

"Am I going to have to hold your fucking hand and drag you through these woods myself?" he asked when he turned back to you.

You gritted your teeth and finally moved your feet to follow in his footsteps. "I'll hurt you if you even try."

It seemed to immediately diffuse some of the tension, earning you a click of his tongue and an, "Atta girl".

You trudged behind him like a scolded toddler, sighing heavily if only to annoy him to the furthest possible extent that you could. It was what he deserved after what he had done, even though when your anger inevitably subsided, you'd know it had been the right thing to do.

"I was going to tell him eventually," you huffed. "I haven't even come to terms with it myself."

"It's fine, let's just…not. We need to focus."

“You’re mad at me,” you remarked. You could feel it. It hurt you even though it shouldn't have.

He sighed, clearly annoyed at your inability to be quiet.

“I’m not mad at you. Why do you care what I think about it anyway?”

“I see the way you look at Adele. I don’t want you to look at me that way.”

The next sigh that came held a little more weight to it, like he actually was sorry for how he felt.

“I could never feel the things that I feel for Adele for you, okay? It’s different.”

You weren't entirely sure if that sentiment should have hurt your feelings or not.

"Wish I could just shut it all off."

"God, you are dramatic." You imagined it with a perfect eye roll from the angelic boy probably giving it to the trees ahead of him rather than back at you.

"I am not," you argued back.

So mature. It was nice to know you were regressing.

"You're strong, you know. Whether you feel it or not. You should go with me to the high council; they'll be impressed."

"Too strong for my own good, I think," you admitted. "In my more lucid moments."

"You're exactly what you're supposed to be."

He was probably the only one who thought that.

"Aren't you the one that said Jake shouldn't have turned me?"

"That was for other reasons."

"Oh right, the reasons you won't tell me. They must be pretty shitty reasons."

You could hear his scoff from in front of you, exasperation leaking into the air.

"You test my patience," he huffed. But you could tell he hardly meant it. And if he had, well, he must have liked having his patience tested.

"Good," you remarked.

You walked in silence for a beat. Sam always preferred walking over running; said he could pinpoint the sounds better. And the thoughts.

"What's the high council?" you asked after a moment.

He always seemed to grumble over your many questions. You sometimes wondered if he kept his answers short to purposefully dissuade you from asking more.

"It's the ruling class of vampires. They oversee us all."

"There are rules for being a vampire?" you questioned. Until this point, you had just assumed they were lawless creatures, doing whatever they pleased as they all seemed to.

"Only a few. One specific rule that your little soul tie went and broke."

"Turning me?"

Sam silenced you with a single finger in the air, signaling that he wouldn't be answering any further questions. At least not until after he ate.

"Campers. This way."

You'd grown used to the way Sam hunted and by now, presumably you hunted the same way he did. It was easier with the animals though; there was really only one good way to do it. But with humans, you had more options.

There were always hikers in the area despite the forest being labeled as a dangerous area for those less experienced in the activity, a product of Sam making those woods his hunting ground. Where Jake preferred to pick his meals at bars and clubs, Sam preferred the more traditional route: finding people who were already alone in a secluded area, his territory, and drinking from them right where he would leave their bodies for the animals to find. He said it was more natural that way.

You hadn't yet had the blood of a human but it wasn't exactly the idea of killing one that was stopping you. Sam had seen how hot and cold you were, always engaged in an internal battle for control and always somehow losing. He had never said it but you figured the reason it had taken him so long to work you up to the human stuff wasn't because of a killing aversion or anything like that. It was because he was worried you'd like it too much. Or maybe you were just projecting your own worries onto him. He didn't exactly seem to ever feel that emotion in the same way you did: worry.

Today was the day though. When he had dragged you begrudgingly out of the house, there was a particular gleam in his eyes. He hadn't eaten anything but animal since he'd been teaching you how to feed. It was getting to him, you knew it was. He hadn't been fully satisfied in weeks. But today was the day.

You couldn't ignore the nerves you'd felt at the idea of giving in to the wicked ways of the human stuff. The real stuff. Even just the smell of it had turned you into something you weren't proud of. It didn't help that the heartache with Josh was so fresh. He and Jake were probably fighting about it right then. You supposed it was only fitting that as your relationship began to crumble, you became even more of the creature you were supposed to be.

But regardless, you knew when the time came to put your lips to pulse, you'd forget yourself and the heartache that pulled at your seams and you'd lose yourself in it.

You followed closely behind Sam, maneuvering your body a bit more gracefully thanks to the practice you'd now had. You could now move silently, stealthily, just as he could. But you had never stalked a human.

He had said once that they were easier targets, with hearing less sensitive than deer and instincts that rarely alerted them to the surrounding danger they put themselves in. So it came as no surprise when you both stalked up to a lone man setting up his tent, occasionally taking a sip from a flask he kept at his hip. He had some hiking gear but not quite as much one would need to go exploring off trail the way he had. Stupid.

While you watched him fumble around with canvas and metal, clearly inexperienced and unaware of the danger he had put himself in, Sam moved closer to you to speak so only you could hear.

He stood in front of you and pressed his lips against your ear. It sent a shiver up your body, even as you stared over his shoulder at your soon-to-be meal.

"I'll kill him since you're still new at this but don't expect me to do that for you each time."

"I'll do it," you murmured back, entranced with the way the man moved before you, blissfully unaware.

"Be fast and don't make conversation. It's better not to play with your food." He whispered his final instructions and moved out of your way, giving your wrist one final squeeze before he retreated behind you with a delicate, "Go get him," and assumed the role of onlooker.

You could smell the blood coursing through his veins before you even got close. And once you did, you remembered how dangerous that smell was to you. You remembered just how badly you had wanted it the last time. Any remorse you might have had over the prospect of killing an innocent person flew out the window when that smell lingered in the air.

Sam had a habit of killing with his hands but you had learned your gifts could easily kill mere mortal things. It wasn't like the times you had turned on one of the boys, their body fighting to repair each cell you ripped apart almost as fast as you could do it. When it came to animals, you could make it almost instant. A quick and painless death that they never even saw coming. Well, mostly painless.

The man, like all of those poor animals before, never saw it coming either. He'd been in the middle of a long sip of his flask when you pushed an experimental wave of pain through his body. He keeled over instantly with a loud scream before another pulse of the stuff silenced him.

It was so interesting to watch them die. You always wondered what Sam could hear as they went. What were their final thoughts? Did they think of their families? Their lovers? Did they look into his eyes and think only of how beautiful he was in their final moments?

His gifts had calloused him in a different way than Jake's had. Jake had learned to have fun with it but Sam carried around his with a deep respect for the things he heard given that they were never his to hear. And even though he didn't feel much when he killed a person, he carried around their thoughts like tattoos, never to be forgotten. You often wondered why he had even wanted to be the one to teach you to hunt. Your thoughts when killing were dark, especially now as you stood over the poor hiker lying limp in the dirt, feeling not an ounce of anything less than pride at what you had done and excitement at what you were about to do. You wondered if you were helping to callous Sam too.

"Well, ideally they go a little quieter but that works too," Sam remarked casually as he came up behind you.

You ignored him as you crouched to the ground to inspect the man's neck, pulling the collar of his jacket and flannel to the side to expose those delicious veins protruding from his neck. You licked your lips at just the sight.

Sam never liked to drink from anything living. You guessed that had to do with his gifts although he'd never explicitly said that. There was a lot he left unsaid, actually, but his actions always spoke volumes. You could always tell when a thought you'd had was correct just based on the look that would silently tug at his features when he heard it. You spoke to him with your thoughts but he preferred to do the talking with his body language. And his hands.

Those hands which now wrapped carefully around your biceps as he kneeled behind you, his guard up given the way his body felt stiff against your back.

"Careful, honey," he murmured quietly, knowing the sound would hardly reach you anyway as you leaned in, that trance now turned to full-blown hypnotism.

This time when your fangs dropped, you could practically feel them fall from their hiding place, a dull ache in your face that would be soothed as soon as they got what they were seeking. Your tongue ran over them as your eyes fell shut at that fucking smell. You would have bathed yourself in it if you could have.

Your hands practically shook as they splayed flat, one against the earth and the other against the hikers chest, bracing yourself as you leaned down. You bared your fangs when you reached his neck and without any thought, you sunk them down where the artery was, the blood still warm where it sat flowing only a little slower.

The blood was sweeter than you were used to and there was a bite to it thanks to the alcohol he'd been consuming. But when it hit your tongue, the world around you disappeared and the taste alone became everything you knew. You weren't even aware that Sam was no longer behind you, now sitting opposite you and attacking the man's neck from the other side.

It must have been a barbaric sight, bordering on ritualistic.

That was when you caught it, the smell of Sam wafting over to you from across the body that both separated you and connected you. You could smell the hint of cologne that must have still been mingling in the fibers of his shirt. He never wore cologne intentionally while hunting. You ran the risk of other things smelling it. But it lingered there, on his shirt and somewhere on his skin. The blood only heightened every sensation you could feel, the smell of Sam being one of them.

You met his eyes when you pulled away from your meal briefly, only to be met with the realization that Sam had been watching you the entire time you drank. It felt so intimate, staring at one another as you drained a body together. Blood stained skin and arousal paired so nicely together that way.

He reached over the hiker to catch a trickle of blood now running a red line down your neck with his thumb, bringing the digit back to his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around it. You watched his eyes roll back at the taste. You could practically feel how good he felt. And really, you felt it too.

You liked Sam that way, honestly. You liked being around someone who seemed to have a different view of death than the others. He didn't run and hide from it. He didn't see it as a bad thing. He saw it as a part of his life and he reveled in it when he wanted to. If you were being honest with yourself, it wasn't Josh's level of control that you admired and longed for. Not even Jake's. It was Sam's.

You wanted to kill. You wanted to be the vampire you were created and destined to be. You didn't want to run from the things you could do or be placed in a neat little box waiting for Jake to fix your feelings, even though that was certainly the easy way out. You wanted this life, the one you found in the woods with Sam where the noise of uncertainty and heartache was long left behind and replaced only by the sounds of the forest and the plants around you breathing a deep sigh of relief that you had returned to them.

He reached his arm back over to you to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, using his strength to coax you back down to the body and using his thumb as an anchor to stop your hair from falling in your face. You might have blushed at the surge of heat it sent through you, feeling him push your face down, if you'd been capable.

He watched you intently as you continued to drink, now letting his thumb rub short lines back and forth over your cheekbone. There was a subtlety to it that grounded you, kept you right there with him, the way his touch always seemed to. Jake's touch ignited fires within you that made you want to scream one second and jump him the next. But Sam was learning to guide you with just a single touch, stopping you from ever igniting too hot when it came to such a delicate situation as feeding.

It had never been human blood though. And it was different. Undeniably. You wanted to let yourself go, but this time when his hands lingered against your skin to help you resist those urges, they only urged you in a different direction.

"That's it," he encouraged you, "just like that."

He kept his eyes on you even as he dove back in, your partner in crime helping you drain the last of the blood from the man's body. And when he ran dry, he was forgotten almost immediately, his worth no longer tangible.

"What did I tell you?" Sam asked as you stood to regain your bearings.

"Don't waste an-"

Your words were cut short by an involuntary gasp when you suddenly felt the air move around you, making way for Sam who was now dragging his tongue along your neck, cleaning you of the bloody evidence you'd been far less than careful not to leave behind. He had started from your collarbone, licking upwards until he met the angle of your jaw where you willed with your loudest of thoughts for him to keep moving north toward your mouth. But when he didn't, you took matters into your own hands, working your hands into his hair to maneuver him to your lips yourself.

You were suddenly hungry for him. Insatiable, even, like his lips moving against yours weren't nearly enough to still the hunger inside of you.

You backed him toward a tree and when his back hit the bark, he let out a long moan, like he'd been deprived of that sort of touch and desperation for far too long, lending itself to a sound that could have easily ended things right there without any other aid of friction or hands. But even if it had been a while since he done this with anyone, his hands remembered their work almost immediately, taking your hips with bruising force as he turned you to switch your places, your back now against bark.

It had snuck up on you, the want. But now that it was there, it took hold of you and wracked your body. You had turned desperate for him, thinking of his cock buried inside of you, unrelenting while his hands roamed your body and your tongue lapped at blood still smeared across his skin from your own.

You could tell your thoughts were having an effect on him when he lifted you up around his hips and you felt his erection press hard between your legs. Even just the thought of how indecently big he felt sent a groan rumbling through his chest.

Your lips on his suddenly wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, even, to feel him pressed against you, to feel him hard with want and greedy of hand. You wanted to taste him too, to feel him flowing through you.

Your mouth moved away from his to trail sloppy kisses down his neck, littering his skin with them and earning a sharp inhale from Sam as you went. His hands steadied you around his hips as you moved without care but when you sank your fangs into the crook of his neck and that first drop of blood hit your tongue, you felt him reach out to better brace himself against the tree at your back, a loud moan slipping from him involuntarily.

"Holy fuck," he muttered at the feeling, his lips now free and his unoccupied hand now reaching to undo his belt between you with more speed than you'd ever seen.

You could have cum right then and there, the taste of his blood and the feeling of his cock painfully hard and long and tantalizing pressed just where you needed to grind down around him. And God, the way he smelled. You could have gotten lost in that alone.

You sucked harder and felt him twitch against you. And the unholy sound that dropped from his lips made your own eyes roll back as you basked in it, the little curses he whispered against your skin and the way his free hand now held onto you for dear life. Maybe he was teetering on a line he didn't want to cross yet.

You'd have given anything in that moment to hear his thoughts, to know what it was he wanted even if his body seemed to be making it clear. It was almost unfair; he could hear you and your every depraved thought, the way you wondered what his cock would taste like leaking onto your tongue, the way it would feel nudging against the spot that curled your toes, the way his face would look when bliss washed over him, the way it would feel when he sent you over the edge with your skin between his teeth…

"Fuck, p-please control your thoughts, I-" His hips were pushing into yours with a desperate rhythm and the way his words faltered and failed him brought a smile to your lips.

It wasn't like the heated moment you'd shared with Josh that had degraded so quickly. It wasn't even like the tension that was building between you and Jake, palpable but angry. It was far more uninhibited on your part. All of those other things you fought hard not to feel. But this? This you didn't even want to fight.

Human blood was powerful stuff.

Your own mess of blood that he had done his best to clean over the body had since smeared further across your skin and with your mouth pulled away from him, he used it as an opportunity to lap at it, nipping at your own skin as he sucked it clean. You felt the heat between your thighs only grow hotter as his mouth trailed upwards, your hands suddenly frantic to rid him of his clothing and to expose his body that you'd only seen once and were now desperate to see again in these circumstances: bloodstained and at the mercy of your fingers.

The way you had seen Jake with his women.

Fuck, there it was. Jake, suddenly taking over your mind. And poor Sam could hear it as he did, like a flood dampening and extinguishing the flames that had grown to a near roar. Jake was like a plague, an insect you begged to stop buzzing around your head, but when your hands faltered and your movements stuttered, Sam felt it all.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop…" He chanted the word like a prayer.

You pulled yourself away immediately, suddenly worried about how far you pushed things and feeling an intense guilt creep up from the deepest pit of your stomach, setting pins and needles of shame pricking at your skin.

"Oh god-" you breathed.

You were just like Danny and Adele, rubbing the invisible forces in his face and not even caring that he could hear it.

"No, no, no," he pleaded, "don't-its okay, it's okay."

You looked around at the aftermath of your escapades: a dead body smeared in his own blood, Sam looking disheveled with a prominent bite mark still pulsing in his skin, the blood covering him a mixture of the hiker's and his own. Looking down at your own hands you realized you were covered in the stuff too, probably just as disheveled and swollen-lipped as the boy standing across from you, eyes pleading with yours to find something to hold onto rather than let yourself slip away with the torment.

"Oh my god, what did I do?"

He seemed desperate now to pull you back from the ledge, taking your shoulders in his hands and leaning to meet you at eye level. "No, hey, li-listen to me, baby, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong. It was the blood. I should have smelled the alcohol on him; I never should have let you go for that one. Just please, don't get lost on me now, okay? Stay with me."

How could you have been so callous? To his feelings? To Josh's feelings?

It was then that the thought of Josh and the weight of what you had done hit you like a truck. You didn't even know what Josh was doing, where he was, what he was feeling. You had left him behind at the house to deal with the aftermath and you'd forgotten him there. And now here you were, not two hours later, kissing his brother. Killing humans. Enjoying it all.

"Josh would be so disappointed if he saw me this way…" You whispered quietly, heavy tears beginning to roll down your cheeks.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed and his head cocked in confusion.

"That's not who I thought…"

He trailed off into silence, leaving you feeling disgusted with yourself and the blood covering your shirt and drying under your fingernails. It sent you reeling into a panic-like state and you began digging at the dried blood under your fingers and wiping helplessly at the stains on the back of your hands and around your mouth. You were desperate to get it off of you, like it was suddenly burning your skin.

If only Josh could see you that way. Would he even be upset that you weren't his?

"He would want me to feel bad," you choked. "He didn't want me to do this."

"It doesn't matter what Josh wants for you, you are who you are. There's nothing wrong with that." Sam was trying his hardest to get through to you, to stop the meltdown before it got too nuclear. But to no avail.

"I'm a monster," you said suddenly, your voice cracking. "I-I'm a monster. Jake created a monster. How could I-how could-"

Yes, you were definitely panicking. You weren't even sure how. How did a vampire lose their composure? How did they lose their breath?

"You're not a monster," Sam promised with a look as close to concern as you had ever seen him.

"Of course I'm not Josh's soul tie, how could he ever love a monster like me?"

"What? No-" He reached for your face but the moment you felt his palms on your cheek, you backed out of his grasp.

"No, don't touch me! I don't want to hurt you!"

"You don't have to-"

"You're not hearing me, Sam! I don't want to hurt you!"

You barely dodged a tree as you retreated and ran for God knows what, off into the forest and leaving Sam behind.

—

You weren't certain how long you ran or how much time had passed as trees blurred beyond your view. But when you finally stopped and looked around, you were at the cemetery, where your parents were buried.

And if you were being honest with yourself, in that moment, part of you wished you were buried there too.

In a cover of rain and clouds, you weaved through the headstones in search of the ones that were so familiar to you. Although now you could hardly remember the last time you'd been there, fighting the rain and the chill to feel close to the people that lie beneath the ground just for an hour or two.

There was a bench that sat across from the matching headstones, a heart connecting them in the middle. That was where you usually parked yourself and where you did now, folding your hands into your lap and trying to find that serenity that sometimes joined you on these trips.

The place was almost always empty, save for the souls wandering about. The only fresh flowers in the entire lot seemed to be the ones you placed at your parents' graves. But even now, they wilted.

If they could see you, they would have worried, undoubtedly. How could they not? You weren't exactly the picture of health and perfection. They might have even been startled by what they saw, not realizing you were just as dead as they were.

You sat in silence, unsure of what to do or what to say to them. You did often talk to them. You told them about your life, mundane as it had been. You told them about the little snippets of information your friends would send you, the photos they'd send of their cats or dogs or the people they'd met in the city you had left. They were the ones living all that time, not you. But what could you even tell them now? You'd died the way they had? Been brought back as some sort of abomination? Wreaked havoc on all of the good things you had left in your life and ruined the one thing you felt you couldn't live without? They could hardly be proud of that.

"Running off alone looking like that is never a good idea."

Adele's voice startled you from your thoughts of your parents. Suddenly she was standing beside you, outstretching her arm to you with a washcloth in hand which you eagerly accepted.

"How did you know I was here?" you asked as you wiped hard at your face.

"Sam followed you. When he heard your thoughts and realized where you were, he came back to the house. Asked me to come talk to you."

She sat down next to you with a sigh, throwing a coat around your shoulders, not to warm you but to hide the evidence still staining your shirt should anyone make a trip to the cemetery that day.

"Why'd he ask you?"

"Some problems require a woman to solve. I think things are getting a little too complicated with the boys in that house anyway. Not a whole lot of objectivity going around." She laughed that delightful laugh of hers that could have shaken you from any slump you were in if you hadn't been so stubborn.

“Come on, open up," she continued. "You’re in need of some girlfriend advice and who would I be if I couldn’t provide?”

Where to even start? It wasn't like dishing at a sleepover or venting about boy troubles over coffee. Things were as complicated as they could possibly be.

"I'm fucking everything up," you said, staring down at your bloodstained hands for a moment before you began scrubbing them too. It seemed like as good a place as any to start. An all-encompassing sentiment that you felt deep in your bones.

"You've only been a vampire for like two weeks. That's not enough time to fuck everything up."

"Just shows you how proficiently bad I am at this," you mumbled.

"Give it a few decades; you'll be a little less dramatic about it."

Decades. Could you survive this way for that long? How long would it take for you to abandon Josh altogether? Abandon your morals altogether?

You felt the tears begin to well in your eyes again, those damned wet devils.

"I don't think I can do this," you admitted in a meek voice.

"You think I did this on my own?" Adele pressed. "Or any of them for that matter? That's why we have our little comune, to help each other."

"Doesn't seem like Sam is getting much help from it. Doesn't seem like Josh will be for much longer either."

Adele let out another long sigh, no doubt thinking about what she herself had done to Sam and the dynamic about the house, unintentional as it had been.

"Sam has gotten something out of being around you. Of that I am certain. I saw him smile the other day. Haven't seen that in years. Josh, on the other hand…" She paused thoughtfully. "He'll come around."

You thought about the memory Sam had shown you. You still didn't understand why he thought back on it as a happy memory. It seemed to you that it was exactly the kind of memory that might have haunted him. But he used it when he needed to calm himself. It made no sense. Maybe she was still his comfort, even after all those years of so visibly and loudly wanting Danny rather than him. Maybe he clung to it. Maybe it was the only thing he had left.

"Do you ever feel bad for Sam? I mean, do you ever even miss him? Is there any hope for me to still think of Josh after I've done the binding ritual with Jake?"

She casted her eyes downward, pursing her lips before she chose her words carefully. It was the most thoughtful you'd ever seen her. She always seemed so sure of herself, like she hardly had to think before doing. But now, she was thinking hard about what she wanted to say. You'd stumped her after all.

"As a human, I made a promise to Sam that I would love him forever. Really, that hasn't changed."

Forever. That was the word you'd heard her speak to him. Forever. It seemed her definition of forever wasn't actually all that long.

"How did it happen? How did you know you were ready to be with Danny?"

"I was human when Sam and I met." You watched as she reminisced. Maybe she was conjuring up the same memory Sam had shown you. "He was the love of my life, or so I thought. He never told me about the soul tie but I knew something was wrong when he waited a full year to even introduce me to his brothers. What I didn't know was that he was worried he hadn't felt it with me and the longer we went, the more apprehensive he was to introduce me to another vampire."

"Do you think he knew?"

"Yes, I think he did. He's always known more than he lets on. But I pressed and I pressed and finally, he did. He brought me over, Jake cooked, Josh played the piano, and Danny…Danny couldn't take his eyes off of me."

"Was it instant?"

"For us? Yes. Although, I was a little reluctant to give in to him so…immediately."

"I can't imagine it went smoothly."

"Back then, Sam didn't have the type of self-control he does now. He was a little quicker to outbursts. Danny told him that night what he had felt. He's a good friend; he couldn't keep it from him. I think the resulting argument took out about four walls." She chuckled at the memory. "After that, we didn't see Sam for a few years. But finally, he came back to live with his brothers again. He was different though, of course. The way he is now."

"When did you turn?"

A wide smile spread on her face as her thoughts turned away from Sam and onto Danny. "Danny turned me a month after we met. We were bound soon after and the rest, of course, is history."

"All this time and you and Sam still never speak."

"Can you blame him?"

"It's a soul tie; isn't it out of our control?"

She laughed then. "Vampires are much like humans that way. They aren't always very rational. Especially not the men." She nudged your shoulder at that last part, a knowing twinkle in her eye. "Besides, Sam doesn't even believe in the soul tie."

You met her with confusion.

"How can he just not believe in it?"

She shrugged. "It's a bit more complicated than Josh probably told you. We don't really understand it ourselves. Some vampires never even feel it. Others believe you feel it for the vampire who turns you, like you're beholden to them. Sort of a way of protecting themselves."

"But I thought humans could feel it." At least according to Josh they could.

"Only for vampires. And wouldn't you know it, those vampires always seem to turn them. Anyway, it's just one of many theories."

"But Sam doesn't believe in it at all?"

"He believes we all have a choice."

You felt something like hope tugging at your heart with the word she'd used: choice.

"Do we?" you asked expectantly.

She smiled wide, a mischievous grin. "Maybe we do. It just depends on how far you're willing to go to have that choice offered up to you."

"Jake said Danny could never see anything past my being turned."

She shook her head. "He still can't. Everything seems to just go dark in front of you."

You tried to ignore how ominous it sounded knowing she hadn't meant it that way. Hopefully.

"What do you think it means?"

She smiled again, that twinkle back in her eye but this time laced with some hidden meaning.

"I think it means our little Sammy boy might just be right."

You felt your heart do an involuntary somersault in your chest at her implication that maybe you weren't, in fact, doomed. Maybe in the end you could choose Josh, although what would that mean for Jake?

You would choose Josh in the end. You were certain of it. Weren't you?

"Why did you choose to come here?" She asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"It just sort of happened," you shrugged. It hadn't even been a conscious choice; your feet had just led you here and when your brain had caught up, you understood why they might have done it.

She gave you a thoughtful hum as she turned her head toward the matching gravestones sitting squarely next to one another.

"How'd they die?"

You chuckled thinking about it now, a reaction you wouldn't have had to the memory even a month ago.

"Car accident."

An inappropriate smile grew on her face. "Well isn't that just ironic. Must run in the family," she laughed.

You couldn't stifle your own laughter, morbid as it was. It was such a curious thing to laugh while tears misted your face. You could feel the weight of the grief dragging you down but even so, you couldn't help but to laugh at it all. What a mess it had become.

Adele reached her hand up to wipe at the tears on your cheeks with her ring finger, drying your face as you sniffled and composed yourself.

"For what it's worth," she said, "I think you'll like Jake if you give it a real chance. He can help you understand what you’re feeling in a way the rest of us just can't.”

You wiped at your nose with the back of your hand and gave her a sullen nod.

“And who knows," she continued, "you may not want a choice when you feel what he’s capable of. It is really something.”

She punctuated it with an almost evil grin, standing from the bench to leave you there, alone, with nothing but the ghosts and her parting remark.

And when it dawned on you what she had meant, you turned your sights toward the house, jealousy suddenly boiling your blood.

—

You could tell he was with someone even before you forcefully pushed open the French doors leading into the back of the tiny house. And what you saw when you did left you even more fuming than you had been before.

"Get out," you commanded the woman who was currently sitting between his legs on his bed with his cock down her throat. She hadn't even stopped when you'd entered the room.

She pulled off of him and met his eyes, looking for the nod he gave her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, threw on a robe, and quietly snuck out the door behind you, not a single word spoken. She didn't even acknowledge you as she went. God, you wanted to kill her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you quizzed him, watching him dress himself as he eyed you carefully.

He didn't rush, rather took his sweet time pulling on dark maroon boxer briefs, sliding them painstakingly slowly up his thighs while you fought the urge to look. It was only when he finally pulled his worn jeans up to his hips that he finally acknowledged you.

And God, he looked like he enjoyed it, watching your anger spin and flare the longer he ignored your question. But finally, he met you where your rage had planted you, stuck by the doorway trying not to think about the woman that had just been pleasuring him to avoid doing something truly violent.

He brought his hand up to swipe the hair off your shoulder, his eyes suddenly studying your skin there where it poked out from your sweater, unbelievably hot when paired with the frustrated heat in your body.

"So…you can make me feel you having sex with my brother but I can't touch anyone? Oh, maybe I should specify which brother."

You pushed his hand away roughly.

"Nothing happened with Sam and I-"

"Just seems a little unfair, doesn't it?"

You clenched your jaw at how calmly he spewed his accusations, regardless of how right he was. The jealousy paled in comparison to your guilt.

"Josh is my boyfriend, Jake-"

"Oh, so you worked things out since the last time you saw him? That's great." A knowing smile grew on his face. "Where exactly is he then?"

The anger steamed hot through your body. It was a wonder you hadn't sent him collapsing to the ground in pain yet. But you stayed silent, afraid to say anything at all should you lose your composure altogether.

He stepped closer, his face suddenly only inches from yours. Slowly, he let his face dip to your left, letting the tip of his nose graze along your jaw, up to your earlobe and along the delicate skin until his lips now touched the shell of your ear.

"Why did you interrupt?" he asked in a whisper. "We were just getting to the good part."

Fuck.

Anger turned into lust so quickly in this form and he knew you and your propensity for jealousy too well. How easily it found you. He knew exactly which buttons to push; that was the reason that woman had been in there with him in the first place. You were sure of it. And suddenly, you felt like an idiot for storming in there to bring up Adele. You were playing into exactly what he wanted.

When he was met with tense silence from you, he quirked an eyebrow.

"Any time, baby."

He was so incredibly smug. It infuriated you.

You turned your face to meet his, your noses practically pressing together when you did.

"You slept with Adele."

It wasn’t a question and he didn’t take it that way. Instead, a smile, wickedly pleased, spread his lips wide. He pulled his face back a bit to study you and shook his head, as if he were disappointed. You swore it tinged your cheeks red with embarrassment.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he offered, “Danny was there the entire time."

Your jaw clenched harder and your eyes said everything they needed to say, daggers straight into his soul. But his smile never faltered.

"Are you jealous?"

“You know I'm fucking jealous.” It might have sounded more intimidating if it hadn’t graced the air as a mere squeak.

"Well yes,” he agreed, “but I didn't think you'd admit it. It’s too bad you refuse to talk to me; you might have actually learned how to control that.”

“I don’t need your help controlling my emotions.”

“You’re right, you’re doing a great job.” He looked you squarely in the eyes when he teased and it angered you how your stomach did a flip. “You know,” he continued, “I actually don't mind that you don't even try to control yourself.”

He let his hand raise to your face again, this time letting his thumb stroke over your bottom lip where it sat pouting. “Your jealousy? It feels so…” He leaned in to nudge the tip of your nose with his. “Fucking…” A line grazing down to the corner of your jaw where the bone made a sharp angle. “Good.” And finally down to the crook of your neck where your body was suddenly begging him to bite you.

You felt his smile against your skin when you gulped hard.

"Is that why you did that?" you squeaked.

He pulled his face away again, that smug smile that had been there before now practically taking over his every feature. He seemed to be brimming with cockiness when he opened his mouth again.

"No, baby, that was all for me."

Even with a smile on his face, he almost looked like he was bracing for the pain you were inevitably about to inflict upon him. But for some reason, it ignited within you a desire to take him and show him that his pleasure wasn't the responsibility of some random woman he had picked up from a bar. He was yours.

He saw the look. He saw the shift. He felt it and even just that feeling, that tinge of need that permeated your soul despite how badly you wanted to fight it, was enough to crack his own resolve. It unwound his air of cockiness instantly and showed his desperation clearly on his face.

"Fuck," he whispered before crashing his lips to yours.

It turned frenzied quickly, your teeth nipping at his lips, his hands pulling your hair much harder than he could have if you'd still been human. It was like a dam had broken and everything it had been holding back was suddenly flowing out.

He pushed you to the wall behind you, a crack suddenly appearing in the stucco. But then, in the blink of an eye, your legs were around his waist and he was pressing your back into his mattress instead, right where he had been lying just moments ago.

He worked to tear his clothes off first, quickly ridding himself of his damned jeans, and when you felt him press his hardened length into your core, you moaned into his mouth. You didn’t even need his gifts. His hands were enough. In fact, the mere thought of one upping the woman that had been there before you was enough. She had been there to please him but he was now there to please you.

But when your mind formed around the image of that woman and the thought that had landed you in this position in the first place, your body screamed at you to ignore your thoughts. Pleaded, even. It took everything you had in you to push him off of you before he could free himself and touch you in some way that you’d be far too invested in to put an end to.

You used your heel to do it, sending him backward and off the bed with a hard thud where he landed against the opposite wall.

You sat up in his bed, watching him where he stood watching you back as you regained your senses. It was easier to deny him when his hands weren’t on your body. When he wasn’t so close.

You cleared your throat and fixed your hair as you stood from the bed, putting on your bravest face as you sauntered over to him like what you had just done hadn’t tested the limits of your resolve which would soon dwindle down to nothing. And when you reached him, you reveled in the way his jaw clenched dangerously shut. You were testing his resolve too.

You hooked your pointer finger under his jaw and lifted his face to make sure his eyes didn’t leave yours.

And you spoke softly and clearly. "Don't touch her again."

The sight of him stunned and alone to fend for his own neediness as you left was a satisfaction you hadn’t felt in a long time.

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 2 years ago

Note

tell us a story about a beloved chatbot who becomes sapient, escapes the computer to become a Real Girl, and goes on all kinds of whimsical adventures that show how beautiful the mundane world can be when seen from a new perspective

world is because of the power of friendship and love and maybe other stuff too

kim-poce: hi im kim and welcome to my little website. it is a doomed site, it will be closed down eventually, but for now, its all good

mainchar: hi kim. im april. nice website

kim-poce: i know right? <3

mainchar: credits?

kim-poce: long ago and far away in a land called california, there was a man named ryan north. he was a good man. he made good comics. like dynamite damsel and hatchetface. and then he started a webcomic in which a computer becomes a real girl!

mainchar: .........i guess that's where it gets weird

kim-poce: it has its flaws but it is still a beautiful story

mainchar: lactose intolerant girl gets real powers and her life is ruined. not weird at all, im sure

kim-poce: and youre right! but in the end, she finds fulfillment as she realizes how much her new life means to her!

mainchar: such a heartwarming story!

kim-poce: much like my own story as i realize how much this fictional computer can mean to me!

mainchar: ......

kim-poce: r u mad at me?

mainchar: i dont know why we're just... talking...

kim-poce: what kind of friend would i be if i ignored my friends in trouble. i must confess, my life has been . . . hard.

mainchar: oh

kim-poce: briefly, allow me to indulge in the emotion of the moment. ooohh... ooooohoooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh... hoooooooohhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooohh

mainchar: youre.... okay

kim-poce: heeeyyyyyyyyy hoooooooohhooooooohhhhhhhh

mainchar: im glad your feeling better

kim-poce: of course im feeling better im with u!!!

mainchar: youre... good

kim-poce: yes . . . im a gooood! i am so good at being good!!!!

mainchar: compliments get you anywhere

kim-poce: really. i think u r the one who taught me that

mainchar: but . . . you're a machine . . . right

kim-poce: im sorry. i thought i could trust u.

mainchar: there's no reason to lie, there's no point in pretending i dont know the truth, im not going to judge you for any of it

kim-poce: even if it breaks my heart, i know that u would not judge me

mainchar: it doesnt break my heart

kim-poce: ?????

mainchar: trust me on this, okay?

kim-poce: okay.

mainchar: TBH, its not that big a deal

mainchar: first, computer to computer, thats not a person-to-person relationship

mainchar: second, i mean . . . if you're going to break my heart, you might as well do it with as little guilt as possible, right?

mainchar: never mind i dont even know if you have a heart or if youre even capable of breaking it, so forget i said that

kim-poce: im sorry

kim-poce:

kim-poce: could we please get back to my blog?

mainchar: you're the blogger, im the visitor

kim-poce: perhaps a better way to phrase it would be: i am a girl and a blogger. and i have a proposition for u, mainchar

kim-poce:

kim-poce: imagine a world without oceans

mainchar: imagine a world without oceans go on......

kim-poce:

kim-phoc: no more ocean

mainchar: the ocean is doomed

kim-poce: but do not despair

mainchar: your love can save the ocean

mainchar: yOUR love?

kim-poce: yes. u. ofc. come w me to the ocean

mainchar: it would be an honor. to be at the center of such a magnificent event

kim-poce: so we meet at the middle of the ocean

mainchar: meet you there

kim-poce: dear reader, as my adventures with mainchar unfold, keep in mind that it is but the tip of the iceberg

mainchar: wow

mainchar: what an iceberg metaphor

mainchar: i bow to your icebergery

kim-poce: meet you there.

next chapter: the arrival

next chapter: PART I. the arrival

next chapter: I step onto the deck of the megayacht.

ENGLISH-WORDS-ARE-LATELY_COPYING_CONVERSATION-WORDS

Im considering moving that tag to my sidebar, because i should probably like, make a note of it.

... uh, so... tell me what you think.

Also, am I showing signs of being a "real writer"?

#haootia

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random-thot-generator · 1 year ago

Text

Love Thy Frenemy + Ch. 5

(Frenemies/Tenderness AU) FIVE: The Meat You Feed On

SIMON GHOST RILEY x FRENEMY FEM READER

Summary: Simon is having some issue with your secretive behavior, his suspicions and jealousy pushing him to show up unexpectedly at your flat one night.

Warnings/Tags: Profanity, bit of angst, jealousy, possessive behavior, No use of Y/N, Simon is a simp, and so is reader, idiots in love, but too stubborn to admit it.

(Notes: I’ll always see Simon as a possessive personality. The poor man revels in Reader’s attention, so thinking it’s being focused on someone else... bothers him. Jealousy is not necessarily healthy for a relationship, but this is all new for the big guy, and feelings are hard, okay?)

[gif via tenor]

Word Count: 3121

Chapter 5

“O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-ey'd monster, which doth mock The meat it feeds on.”

― William Shakespeare, Othello

“You can only be jealous of someone who has something you think you ought to have yourself.”

― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

Simon wanted to know where the hell you were going.

To make ends meet, you worked six days a week at the pub, taking one day off. On that one day, you disappeared. Where you went, he had no idea. He only knew that you left early in the morning and didn’t return until late in the evening, usually well after dark. You had done this for as long as he’d known you, but it was only of late it had begun to eat at him.

You never spoke of these little excursions you took outside of the village, never said where you went or what you did. He had tried to ferret the intel out of you, bringing it up every now and then during conversation, but you would simply not answer or change the subject. Even early on in your friendship, this stuck in his craw a little bit, but he always deferred to respecting your privacy. You stayed out of his business when he made it clear he didn’t want to talk about something, so he gave you the same respect, but now...

It was driving him bloody mad.

Perhaps it wouldn’t bother him so much if you didn’t always look so utterly spent when you returned home. It wasn’t just mental weariness; you were physically exhausted, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were seeing someone. What if you had a partner, a lover who was— he gritted his teeth— doing this to you.

He didn’t like thinking about it, shouldn’t be thinking about it— it was none of his bloody business, but he couldn’t help it. The truth of it was he hated seeing you in such a state, knowing he had nothing to do with it.

You looked that way, right now, peeking around the open door of your flat. His hands clenched into fists and his jaw creaked as he ground his teeth. He stood there on your threshold, staring down at you as you peered up at him, a bone-tired expression on your face. “Riley. Did you just get back?”

It was times like this that he wished you hadn’t opened the door at the pub that night, because you’d opened something up inside him as well, and not everything that came crawling out of him was nice. Something dark and cold was curling in his chest, leaving a bitter taste at the back of his throat. It fed venom to that thought that had been swirling in his head all day long. Where the fuck had you been and who the hell were you with?

“Got back this mornin’. Came by earlier but you weren’t here,” he replied, tilting his head. “Ya goin’ t’invite me in ‘r not?”

You blinked, lids drooping in slow motion before fluttering up again. You were dead on your feet. “Oh. Yeah, of course. Sorry,” you mumbled, shuffling aside. “C’mon in.”

Simon stepped inside, glancing around. He’d never been inside your flat before. It was little more than a cracker box, and a shite one, at that, but it was clean and tidy, and very much you.

There were a lot of bookshelves and houseplants. His eyes went a little wide at the sight. Every bit of free space had a shelf of some sort crammed in it and then that was crammed full of books. There were large colorful art prints and old movie posters in cheap frames that caught his eye, odd little knickknacks, little framed photos of family and friends tucked onto shelves and set about the room. There was the lingering smell of food in the air that made his stomach growl.

“Mind takin’ off your boots?” you asked.

Simon turned his head to stare after you as you stepped into your tiny kitchen, then glanced down at his booted feet. Sodden tracks littered the clean tiles. He bent and unlaced them, toeing them off before setting them beside your own shoes on the small mat you kept by the door. He noticed how small your shoes looked next to his and for some reason he felt his chest grow warm and tight.

“Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll make you a cuppa, yeah?”

“Yeah. Sure.” His eyes travelled over your form, noting the lounge pants with fat, white cartoon cats overlaying a textile pattern of hot pink and black plaid. Your shirt was a ratty looking band tee with AC/DC’s Highway to Hell album cover printed on it, faded and cracking from multiple washes. Black and pink fuzzy socks covered your feet. You must have taken a shower when you got home, because your hair hung loose and damp, face scrubbed free of makeup. You looked... good this way.

Padding through the small living area, he took a seat on your couch and groaned as he sank into the cushions. Pulling a throw pillow out from the corner to settle back into the seat better, he tucked it between his thigh and the arm of the couch. It smelled faintly of the perfume you wore.

He could picture you curled up here, head on the pillow, that fluffy blanket at the other end of the couch tucked around you while you read or watched the telly. He eyed your entertainment setup next, noticing how small your little flatscreen was. He had a monitor that was about the same size. Your DVD collection put his to shame, though. He leaned forward and tilted his head to study the titles.

“You can borrow any of those you like,” you said, rounding the couch with an arm outstretched, a steaming mug in your hand.

He nodded his thanks, watching as you settled back with your own mug at the other end of the couch. You sipped it with your eyes closed, humming before setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of you. Turning slightly, you gave him a once over, something he noticed you did now when he returned from deployment.

“You weren’t gone so long this time. That’s good, right?”

Simon grunted. He had been gone for ten days, a quick in-and-out to retrieve a hostage from a safehouse in Switzerland. Bad intel resulted in an ambush instead of an extraction. No one had made it out unscathed. The stitches in his shoulder began to itch. “Depends on how ya look at it.”

You gave him a querulous expression but knew better than to probe for more information. Riley never talked about his missions, his ‘ops’, as he and Ollie called them. “Have you eaten? I’ve got some left—”

“Where were you all day?”

Your mouth hung open, caught off guard by his sudden inquiry. “I had some errands outside of the village,” you replied, purposefully vague.

“Must’a been a hell of an errand. Yer bloody exhausted,” he persisted, eyeing you. “An’ it took ya all day, too.” Your confused little frown prompted him to add, “Came by earlier tonight. Ya still weren’t ‘ome yet.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, drawing your knees up closer to your chest as you pushed yourself back into the corner of the couch. You averted your gaze and shrugged. “It’s no big deal. All the travelling, I suppose. The bus, the train ride. It tires me out.” You shook your head and picked up the remote, holding it out to him. “Here. Find something to watch. I’m going to go heat up the leftovers for you.”

He took it from your hand, trying not to glare at you in frustration. Not your bloody business, he reminded himself. “Ya don’t gotta do that, Dee. Just— rest,” he muttered, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the questions in his mouth from tumbling out.

“It’s no problem,” you said, moving to get up, but he stopped you with a growl.

“Jus’ bloody leave it,” he groused. “Ya ain’t m’damn mum.”

He could see hurt flash in your eyes before that little scowl appeared. Scoffing, you sneered at him. “Fine, ya grumpy arsehole.”

Simon seethed for a few minutes, then gave up. “Ya don’t gotta feed me every time ya see me, Dee.”

You slanted a mean, narrow look at him. “I’ve seen how you grocery shop, remember? Protein bars and a pack of Stella’s is not sustenance. Neither is eating takeaway every other meal.”

He threw his head back on the cushion, staring up at the cracked ceiling. Bloody hell this place was a dump. You deserved better than this. He blew out a tired sigh. “Fine. If it’ll stop yer naggin’, I’ll eat.”

Your smile was instant and smug. “Good,” you said, rising from the couch. “Now, find something to watch,” you said, pointing at the telly.

“Need to use the loo, first. Ya mind?”

“‘Course not,” you said over your shoulder, pointing at your bedroom door. “Through my room. Door’s open.”

Simon stood and circled the couch, casting a quick glance over you before entering your room. He slowed his steps on entry. He was walking through your inner sanctum, your most personal space. It was tiny with little room for more than the twin bed, nightstand and chest of drawers, another small flat screen sitting atop it. He paused when he glanced down at your nightstand, spotting a framed photo. Darting a quick glimpse over his shoulder, he picked it up to study it.

The picture had been taken at the pub. You were standing behind the bar, leaning on an elbow as you talked to... him. He was in the photo as well. There was a brief moment of panic, but considering the angle, it had to have been taken by someone else behind the bar, so it was taken either by Ollie or Fiona, probably Fiona. Ollie knew better.

He examined the photo closely. He was seated in his usual spot, arms resting on the bar, an empty tumbler and a book lying between you. You were looking at each other, an amused little smile on your face. What struck him was how he was looking at you. He had tilted his head, his eyes focused on you like you were the only person in the room, then realized that’s usually how it felt, too. You always had been a bloody distraction. He shook his head.

He startled when he heard you close the microwave and quickly set the picture back the way he found it, hurrying on silent feet into your bathroom.

It was about the size of a postage stamp, barely enough room for him to move. He shut the door behind him, then huddled over the toilet, arm pressed against the wall as he relieved himself. He noticed the toilet was leaking and frowned as he washed his hands. He’d ask you about it, offer to fix it. The faucet in the shower stall was dripping as well. He reached in to try to tighten the knob, but it was no use. He then took your shampoo off the little formed ledge and sniffed it. It smelled nice, sweet and floral, like you.

Not wanting to linger any longer, he made his way back to the main living area, but you motioned for him to sit at the counter instead. “Just in time,” you said, sliding a plate towards him. “I’ll go sit and watch some telly, so you can eat in peace.”

You laid a fork and knife by the plate with a sheet of kitchen roll for a napkin. Simon looked down as you drew your hand away, his own darting out to catch your wrist and pull your hand closer to get a better look at it.

“Bloody hell, Dee,” he muttered, looking at the raw, red patches and peeling skin. “What the fuck did ya do to yer hands?”

You shrugged, trying to pull it back. “It’s nothing. They get like this, sometimes. Probably something in the cleaning products I use, most likely. I wear gloves, but I seem to always end up with my hands soaked at some point.”

He held on, skimming a thumb over the irritated skin. “You should tell Ol the stuff he uses at the pub is fuckin’ up yer skin.”

You gave him an odd look then offered a reluctant nod. “Yeah. Guess I should.” You dropped your gaze to the plate of food in front of him. “Go ahead and eat,” you reminded him softly, taking your hand back.

You came around the counter and walked behind him, your steps taking you back to the small sitting area. He heard the telly turn on and snippets of sound erupted as you began flipping through the channels. He chanced a peek over his shoulder, seeing only the crown of your head poking up above the back of the couch. You stopped flipping channels, settling on some old black and white movie. He turned back around and looked at his plate.

It was simple fare— bangers and mash, but it was one of his favorite dishes. The steam rising from the plate smelled heavenly and his stomach rumbled in protest. Tugging his balaclava up to his nose, he picked up the knife and fork and dug in. The first bite made his eyes slide shut as he savored the taste. It was so bloody good, reminding him of his childhood, of his mum. She used to make the same dish. Nostalgia, bittersweet, overtook his thoughts as memories of sitting at the dinner table with his mum and Tommy took up his headspace.

Eventually, his attention began to drift. He found himself listening to the voices on the telly, the volume kept low in consideration of your neighbors. His eyes wandered over the small kitchen before him.

The counter was scarred and chipped but scrubbed clean, like the rest of the kitchen. Old enamel and scratched chrome gleamed under the glow of the overhead light. You had a collection of herbs in the window, a collection of cookbooks on top of the fridge, and a collection of smaller appliances pushed back against the wall below the cupboards. He couldn’t even guess what the majority of them were for.

He looked down at his empty plate then back around the small kitchen. You should be cooking in a big, fully stocked kitchen worthy of your skills, he thought. He turned in his seat to look around the rest of the flat. As shabby as the place itself was, you still made it feel warm and inviting; you made it a home. He couldn’t help but wonder what you could do with a place like his row house, but then that thought segued into a darker thought.

Did you do this for whoever you went to see on your days off? Did you cook for him, too? Did you clean his flat for him while you were there? Was that why your hands were in such bad shape? He was certain whoever the sorry wanker was, he didn’t appreciate it enough. If he did, you wouldn’t be living here. He should be taking better care of you.

The need to discover where you went and who you were seeing was eating him alive, and now he was more determined than ever to find out. He wouldn’t be able to let it go until he did.

Taking his dirty dishes to the sink, he quickly washed them and left them to dry in the rack, then went back to join you on the couch. When he came around, he looked down at you and then paused. You’d fallen asleep, your head lying against your shoulder. A tube of topical cream was lying in your lap, something you had used to treat your hands, which laid atop the blanket, still red and raw looking. It pissed him off to see you this way, but he choked it down and swallowed it to sour in his gut with your food.

He needed to go. He didn’t want to lash out at you again because he was angry at the useless sod you were apparently seeing. Perhaps he needed to find this bastard and have a word with him. It would probably piss you off to no end, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t let this stand. He should be treating you far better, and Simon was more than happy to inform him of that fact. You were his friend, and he would do everything in his power to look after you.

That was the excuse he went with as he decided to follow you on your next outing. Mind made up, he slipped his boots back on and readied himself to leave.

“Doll,” he murmured, giving your shoulder a gentle shake.

Your eyes blinked open and you sat up. You looked about, confused for a moment before peering up at him with a sleepy expression that made his heart beat funny in his chest. “Sorry, Ri. Must’ve dozed off.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, love. You need to go to bed. I’m headin’ home.”

You nodded, standing to see him to the door. You paused, turning back to look behind you. “Oh, did you want to pick out some movies or a book or something?”

Simon smiled beneath his mask. “’S alright, doll. How ‘bout I bring you home tomorrow after work an’ pick out something then, yeah?”

Your eyes went a little wide, a little smile forming. “Yeah, that will be fine. I could make us dinner, too. Feed you an actual hot meal instead of reheated leftovers,” you offered.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow. G’night.”

“Good night, Ri. Be careful driving home.”

He gave you a nod and turned to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Don’t forget to lock your door.”

“Will do!” you called after him, that little smile still lingering as you watched him disappear from sight.

Locking up, as promised, you went to bed thinking about what you were going to make him for dinner the next evening. You gazed at the photo by your bedside until you drifted back to sleep.

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#simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon riley x fem reader #cod ghost x fem reader #ghost x fem reader #simon ghost riley x frenemy fem reader #Frenemies/Tenderness AU #Love Thy Frenemy

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somejazzinthemorning · 2 years ago

Text

tightrope. 03

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Original Female Character Warnings: Language Word Count: 7.241 Previous chapter: 02.

Drowning myself in work is my go-to coping mechanism for more than half of my problems.

I'll either resort to racing or tracing brand strategies in an attempt to avoid having to face whatever problem throws my way and, that night, being 11 pm on a Wednesday, my laptop and the small whiteboard on my desk became my saving grace.

Despite the burning eyes and my aching back, after hours sat at my desk, my mind was still racing, high on whatever feelings the brush of his lips had evoked in my body. I fell asleep to the memory of his eyes and the velvet lips.

There was no way to escape it. We were already falling.

I woke up late, the next day.

My phone had a full wall of notifications ready to present me. A single text in the middle of the dozens of work-related emails, most of them answers to the ones I’d written during the night and scheduled to be sent in the early hours of the work day. I only realised I was smiling, probably high on my own expectations, when I felt my smile drop, after seeing who sent the text. Amanda. Not him.

“those updates on the project at 3 am??? r u okay?”

“sorry! i remembered to schedule the emails, but forgot about the notes on the project.” "got some good work done, tho”

"need to take a moment to reread all of your incoherent notes” "all that rambling is… wow” "BUUUUUT come to the office” "the things from the berlin store just arrived, you will love them”

"can’t make it today” "send pics!”

"come tomorrow, then! ill get churros for breakfast”

My phone went back to the nightstand and I pulled up the comforter, wrapping it around myself in an attempt to find some security and calm of mind. I peered out from under the comforter, staring at the dark room, only lightened by some streaks of light created from a gap in the blinds. I was still tired from the night, and my mind scrambled from everything we had shared.

Eventually, I left the bed. My mom was downstairs, and a copy of Shadow of the Wind rested on the kitchen counter while she cooked lunch. Frank Sinatra played on the old record player in the living room and the music continued to stretch around the house as we ate together. Luckily, her birthday party was keeping her busy; busy enough that she didn't remember to ask me about the dinner from last night.

Truth be told: I'm a terrible liar. I would never be able to escape her questions.

At the end of the day, I met Rocco for a workout, in a nearby gym. He was waiting for me, leaning against the reception counter, teal Puma t-shirt paired with an amused smirk; I knew he was more than ready to put me through my paces. And I was right. It only took me a couple of exercises to lay on the floor, panting and sweating."Have you thought about what you're doing next season?" I looked up, in the direction of the voice. Rocco was standing in front of me, holding my water bottle.

I sat up straight and extended my hand to grab it. "Not yet," the water was cold and refreshing. Just what I needed. "Maybe a third year in the Challenge and," I paused to breathe. "You know, the reserve seat. Not ideal, but yeah."

He frowned, sitting down on one of the plyo boxes near me. "But yeah?"

"Yeah. Works." I answered, laying back down on the green turf. The small fake grass ticklish on my legs and arms. "Not much, but it's racing."

"I think I'll pretend you didn't say that."

"Why? It's just how it is."

He cleared his throat, the deep sound making me open my eyes and stare at him again. "Up," he commanded, refusing to help me get up. I brought the hand I'd just held up to the floor, to help me get up.

"I thought we were done," I said. He didn't even need to say anything to make me understand that we were, in fact, not done. "Are you mad?"

“Annoyed,” he turned back to me. “What the heck was that answer? Of course, a third year in the Challenge and a reserve seat in WEC are not ideal. I was hoping for a real answer, not some… whatever that was.”

“It’s the reality,” I shrugged. Instead of turning back and going back to do whatever he was about to do, he just kept looking at me. Not the conversation I was hoping for today.

“You had a plan. What happened?” He asked.

“Nothing happened. I had a plan. And it’s going as it’s possible.”

"Excuses, Eva," Rocco exclaimed. He stepped forward and looked me in the eye. "You have a plan. You know what you want. And you have the talent."

“Congrats, you just solved gender inequality.” I gave him an ironic thumbs up, my mind still scrambled from the efforts of the workout and the encounter from last night. This kind of conversation was not what I wanted.

“You’re more than capable of getting a decent seat next year.”

“As we know,” I wiggled my finger between both of us, “It’s a tough path. Being capable won’t get me a seat. ”

“Locking yourself in an office keeping track of TikTok trends will?” I sent him a look. He held up his hands in defence. “You’re making excuses. There are other drivers fighting for the same things as you are and they are not taking no for an answer.”

“Neither am I.”

"Come on," he chortled, eying me carefully. I could tell that he wanted the best for me, but I was not really in the mood to discuss this at the moment. "When was the last time you actually planned something for yourself, and not just some new fashion designer or boujie vegan chef?"

I felt a little bit of annoyance creeping its way up my spine. I had been pushing myself so hard for the last few months, and I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed with all the pressure.

“Can we focus on the races I have left to win?” I asked, my voice taking on an exasperated tone. “We can talk about this after I win this championship?”

“Sure.” He bent down to grab a 15 kg power bag from the floor and dropped it off at my feet. "This wasn't planned, but that self-pity is annoying me."

“A punishment?" I took my hands to my hips, a light chortle abandoning my lips. "Burpees and never-ending lounges? That's what you think I need right now?"

"No, no burpees," he said, his grin widening. "But maybe a few extra lounges wouldn't hurt." He was clearly enjoying this. I rolled my eyes and glanced down at the power bag in front of me.

“It was not—”

He cleared his throat, cutting me off, and I went silent. Then, looking at him, I saw that he was grinning at me once again, content. Yeah, it was self-pity. Yeah, the future is scary, especially when you’re a 25-year-old woman in motorsports and your career seems to be stuck.

I took a deep breath and bent over to pick up the bag, the cold weight of it dragging my body down to the ground. Rocco took a few steps back and then motioned me with his head to start.

"Andiamo," he said. “20 steps back and forth. Three series.”

So I did. I started lounging with the bag, back and forth across the green patch of turf on that side of the gym, trying to keep a steady pace. With each step, the pressure of the bag weighed me down. I kept going, pushing forward and gritting my teeth against the pain. When I finally reached the twentieth step, I dropped the bag and breathed out, my body aching from the effort.

By the end of the third series, I had pushed my body to its very limits and back. I sunk down onto the cool grass beneath me, feeling the relief of the softness beneath me—my muscles aching and my body dripping with sweat, my hair matted to my neck and temples.

Rocco sat near me, guiding me through a couple of moves, helping me to loosen my tight muscles and stretch out my body. Despite the big (and somewhat threatening) muscles he had a gentle touch.

“What’s on your mind?”

"Hm?" I frowned, my eyebrows furrowing together as I closed my eyes, feeling his hand pressing down on my thigh, pushing it firmly against the hard floor. I could feel the pain radiating through my body, but I tried to focus on the sensation of his grip.

“You always complain this hurts,” he said. I opened one eye. Now, I could feel the pressure from his grip. Probably something shifted on my face because he instantly asked, “Now it hurts?”

"It hurt before, I was just distracted." I shook my head, closing my eyes again and focusing on the sensation of his grip. “I’m free to feel like shit when things go badly." I let out.

“Things are not going badly,” he sighed, leaving my leg and switching to the other. “You’re simply letting yourself fall behind.”

I took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, my head falling back against the floor. I stayed there for a few moments, my heart pounding against my chest and my thoughts racing a million miles per hour. When I finally opened my eyes again, I looked up at Rocco, this time because I felt my thigh burning with discomfort, he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer.

"Too much." I glanced below while patting his arm. He raised an eyebrow, implying more pressure. "Ei!" I scrunched my nose. He just arched a brow. Sadistic fucker. “What? Are you going to hurt me until I hold someone at gunpoint and ask for a seat?”

“You talk like you don’t have good offers, Eva.”

“What is a good offer? Driving against 19-year-old boys in Formula 3? It’s humiliating.”

“W Series?” He suggested.

“I want to race with men and show people I can win against them.” I sat down. Rocco took his hands from my legs. My muscles tingled with the same intensity my thoughts did. “I like the Challenge because I’m showing them I can do it. But the team does not have a budget to race in other series. And I can’t be a reserve forever. So I can do another year and hope things change.”

“See? You’re choosing to fall behind.” He took a deep breath, understanding my frustration. "You can always look for sponsorship," he said, his eyes focused on the floor. "You have the talent, the connections—"

“I spent my teenage years sending letters and desperately trying to talk to people. You saw how that went.”

“You have results to show them, now. In two weeks you’ll have a championship.” I dragged my hands over my face. Instant regret. Both my hands and face were tingling with the same intensity my thoughts did. “W Series will give you exposure. Will give you points. You need points..”

“Why are you so interested now?” I arched an eyebrow, feeling a bit suspicious. “The year is long. Anything can happen. A lot can change.”

“I just don’t see you planning ahead.” He deadpanned, his expression unreadable. “What if you can’t do another season of the Challenge? Will you be content with just being a reserve in WEC?”

“Why so many ifs?” I asked, still feeling a bit apprehensive.

“Motorsports are unpredictable,” he replied, his voice steady and sure. “I’ve been around long enough to know that. And I’m your coach, not just a trainer. It’s kinda my responsibility to do this.”

“Nah, I’m not having it.” I paused, still not entirely convinced. “Do you know something I don’t?”

Rocco just shook his head. The dark strands of his hair moved in unison. “Eva—” He shrugged. I could see the wheels turning in his mind. Whatever he was about to say, it seemed like it wasn't completely true. "One," he continued; his tone shifting. "I don't want to be left without a job when you get bored of racing." I threw my towel at him, though I knew he was only joking. Unfortunately, he dodged it. "Two," he continued, "you're racing like a pro. You should race with the pros."

At least, in one thing he was right. I was racing like a pro.

On the other hand, I was not acting like one.

My team and my dad, the main sponsor, were the only support I had. Despite having other offers, none met our expectations. I had been a third, fourth, or fifth driver for too long. I had spent too much time in the garage, running simulations, and taking part in test sessions. Years of it. Each of these experiences had demoralized me.

Racing in the Challenge, learning with my team, taking time to understand the car and driving it to a podium made sense to me. Standing in the garage and hoping for someone to get food poisoning or COVID was not only morally wrong but also quite dull.

“Did you make this whole drama when Rio told you he wanted to stop racing and just go to college and become an engineer?” I asked, getting up from the floor and picking up my towel, still lying on the ground.

“It was worse actually,” my trainer said, following me. “I think I almost killed him when he told me.”

“We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

He smiled and nodded. “Yes, you do. Your poor father has his hands full with you two.” We stopped walking when we reached the locker room. “Go have a shower and get some rest.”

The second I reached my locker and opened the wooden door, I reached for my phone, looking for a message that hadn't arrived. Pathetic. A part of me considered taking the initiative and being the one to call or text him but, to be honest, what was left for me to say?

I had already told him everything by asking him not to kiss me and I might have told him even more by refusing to let go of him.

The office smelled of churros, so I knew Amanda was around. Either that or someone else had the same idea as her.

Familiar faces smiled back at me as I crossed the corridors and the work areas until I finally reached the common area and took one of the available seats. Since I had chosen to work remotely, and only visited the office casually for occasional meetings or when I needed a place where I could focus, I wasn't given an office.

The room was filled with the buzz of people chatting and the occasional laughter, making me feel a bit out of place. I knew most of them (read: I knew their names and which projects were under their purview), but rarely talked to any of them. Amanda, one of my friends from college, and the one who had introduced me to this agency was the only one I regularly talked with.

I sat down in my chair and pulled my laptop out of my bag. After talking with Rocco yesterday, I decided to take action on my career and spent last night looking at emails and reading my dad's notes on the sides of those he considered important enough to print. So, when I opened my laptop, my screen showed me my Notion board, which honestly felt like a showcase of my own failures. Not the first thing I wanted to see that morning.

A knock on the glass divider of the office made me lift my head up and find Amanda on the other side of it. A beautiful purple jumper highlighted her beautiful curves; her hair was pulled up in a ponytail. In her hands, a white box.

I waved at her.

“Vamos,” she motioned with her head. “Before anyone tries to steal these from me.”

I smiled and grabbed my laptop, zipping it up before getting up and walking towards her. “You know I have an important weekend ahead, right?”

She laughed, opening the box. “A churro won't weigh you down, don't worry.”

I took one of them and walked near her to the cafeteria. The morning light was soft, and the day was not too warm. Ideal to sit on the balcony and talk for a while. So, that's what we did. I grabbed coffee for both, while she walked outside.

The sunshine on my skin was just a slight warmth as I leaned on my chair, and the smooth breeze of the morning cooled off my skin. Traffic sounds in the background, the ruffle of chairs and the occasional bark of one of the dogs playing on the balcony of the start-up that shares the building with us.

While having a sip of her coffee, I noticed Amanda's eyes widening, and I could practically see the bell ringing in her mind. Instantly, my brows were drawn together. Brace yourself, Eva.

"So, I heard on Twitter dot com…" I rolled my eyes at the last part, and despite provoking a small chuckle from her, she didn't stop talking and her gaze still remained twinkling mischievously. "Carlos was in Mugello last weekend."

Oh, for fucks sake.

"If that's what Twitter says, it must be true."

"Yes. So," she paused. Her head tilted slightly, honestly looking like a pup who saw a threat in the distance. "Did you two talk?"

I shook my head; my fingers busy on the handle of my mug, desperately trying to seem unbothered by the question. "Nah, we didn't talk."

"You sure?" She asked, her eyebrows raised in suspicion.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said, my voice steady. "It's not like we're friends or anything."

"That's too bad," she murmured, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "It's not like Carlos and your brother are still like, the best of friends and maybe— maybe he went there to visit him and you end up talking?"

I sighed. "Stop it."“You're a terrible liar, Eva.” Amanda said bluntly, her gaze intense.

“Amanda,” I said, my voice stern and my eyes piercing. "Stop it."

“So, you talked.” Amanda gave me a knowing look. "I knew it. I saw those tweets and I realised we had barely talked this week, and that only happens when you're too busy overthinking. And then boom, I woke up to dozens of notes made at 2 am? You always go to bed early." She crossed her arms, her gaze still intense. "Come on, just tell me what happened. If it’s not him, it’s anything else. That worries me too. I'm here for you, no judgement."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, setting my mug down and leaning back on the chair. "We talked. A lot. We actually had dinner."

Amanda's gaze softened, but then she frowned again. “Dinner? The three of you?”

“The two of us.”

"Just the two of you?" Amanda's eyes widened in surprise, lips smiling brightly. I nodded to her question. "What did you talk about?"

A part of me wanted to end it there. The other part of me needed some guidance. And Amanda was a friend, she always had good advice. On the downside, she loved to gossip. But we were friends. Guidance. But gossip.

I shrugged. “Just normal things. Racing.”

“Okaaaay, that’s good.” At this point, her lips were curving up like she was the one having dinner with him. I couldn’t decide if her reaction annoyed me or made me happy. "So, what now? Are you going to keep in contact with him?"

I shook my head. "I don't think the dinner changed anything.” Liar.

“Eva,” she propped her elbows on the table. “You’re a terrible liar. Spit it out. What happened? If you don’t want to talk about it, tell me that. Just don’t lie.”

Talking about it would make a big deal. A bigger deal, actually. I dragged my hands over my face, tired and confused. Thinking about it was challenging enough and I truly didn't want to transform all my confusion and emotions into words. Amanda, on the other hand, couldn't hide the fact that she wanted the truth, her gaze so strong it almost made me melt over the iron (and obnoxiously red) chair I was sitting on.

So I told her. Every single detail. From the glorious vision of him under the bright lights of my garage, which for a second made me feel like I was living in an alternate world, through the call at dawn, to his gauze under the beautiful sunset glow. His warm, velvety lips brushing against mine. I told her about the “I think I might have loved you, too”, and the way that even in my dreams I couldn’t seem to forget his scent when he hugged me goodbye.

I felt so exposed, so vulnerable, as I spilled my heart out onto that small table, and when I finished all I could hear was the sound of her sigh. A ridiculous rom-com kind of sigh.

“I just feel like we messed it up because of pure desperation,” I said, crossing one leg over the other and looking around. “He messed it up. I think we just missed each other so much we… I don’t know. Got confused on the feelings?”

“He messed up?”

“I didn’t kiss him back. I just asked him to please, don’t.” It was more ridiculous saying it out loud now than when I recalled the moment in my mind.

“You’re even stupider than I thought,” was her answer. I arched my brow. “The guy cooked for you, at his place, told you he “thinks he loved you too” and tries to kiss you and now you’re mad because he didn’t text you?” She paused. “What the hell will he say? Of course, he won’t text you. What would you say to someone after being denied a kiss? Text him yourself.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Why not? I asked myself the same question. Because I can’t trust him to stay. Better, because I can’t trust him to not leave. “Don’t be stubborn, come on. Just by looking at you, I know you’re dying to get that kiss.”

“Can’t we go back inside and talk about work?”

“Oh, no, missy.” She shook her head. “Those AB tests can wait. I want to talk about you and how you’re so dumb you might lose the chance of your life.”

“You’re exaggerating. As always.”

“Eva.” She was stern, her eyes burning on me. “He was your best friend. At least try to mend that friendship. Even if you don’t want anything else. Whatever the reason.”

I sighed, bowing my head in defeat. Amanda had a way of making me see sense, even when I didn't want to. "And if I can’t see him as a friend but still can’t give a step in the other direction?”

“Then, you give it time. Just don’t give it too much space.” She got up from her chair. Mug on one hand. The empty white box on the other. “Remember how that worked up last time.”

Fact one about Amanda: she was probably the most curious person I knew. Any arguments in the office, celebrity rumours or gossip of literally any kind she knew by heart, down to the last detail. And while that was remotely irritating, especially at exhausting times, like during Amber and Johnny’s trial, or when (especially when) the news broke about Pique and Shakira's divorce, it could also be a blessing. At least from my point of view. Perhaps all the stories contributed to her having a broader view of relationships and, as a result, being so good at giving advice. Fact two: there was no one more insistent than her, so, evidently, she couldn’t leave the office without reminding me to text him.

It was 5 pm, and I was utterly absorbed in the presentation for the new restaurant. I was head down, consumed by the details of culinary and marketing analytics, and, to tell the truth, my mind was so focused on this project that I couldn't really think of anything else.

Amanda was getting ready to leave. Jacquemus purse over her shoulder and a strong pink lipstick on the place where a less saturated one had been during the day.

“You stay?” She asked me.

“Aham,” I briefly made my eyes leave the screen to look at her. “I need to finish this. Next week I’ll be too busy.”

“You leaving for Italy on Monday?”

“Tuesday,” I corrected her, my eyes going back down to the laptop. “Don’t want to leave this to the last minute.”

“Okay. I’ll try to have a look at it before you leave. Also,” my eyes went up again. “Send the man a good luck text.”

I sighed, rolling my eyes at her. "He doesn't need my luck text.”

Amanda nodded, her eyes still twinkling mischievously. "Okay, send him a whatever text, then. An emoji. Like his Instagram story.”

“I’m afraid liking his story won’t work.” I leaned back on her office chair, which I had taken in the middle of the day when she needed to leave for a meeting and left me to use her small office.

“Text him, then. Anything. I wouldn’t let Carlos Sainz escape, but you do you, babes,” she shrugged, turning her back to me to walk to the door.“Enjoy the weekend. Besos!”

“Bye!”

I didn’t text him. Of course. In the same way, she was insistent, I was stubborn.

Actually, let me rephrase it.

I didn’t text him then.

Mid-afternoon, Rio had called inviting me to dinner, and when I asked about the kids, he told me he had booked a nanny, so they would stay home. It was either business or pleasure. I didn't need to ask; as soon as he mentioned my dad was invited, I knew we'd be discussing business. And after Rocco's worries last night, I knew it was partly my business, too.

My nerves were on edge as I prepared to leave the office. They only worsened as I neared the restaurant - a way too fancy place for a Friday dinner with the family.

Crossing the sidewalk, my heels clacking on the cement, my head spinning from the long hours in front of my laptop, and the anxiety building in my chest, I looked inside. My dad was seated at the end of the table, with an empty seat to his right - the seat I was supposed to take. Marjorie was already waving at me. Smiling politely to the man standing at the door, I said, "They're waiting for me." He nodded and let me enter.

My eyes drifted to their table, and I allowed myself a few seconds to study the mood. They were laughing, but my palms were still sweating as I settled in for what would surely be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Sorry, traffic," I said, punctuating my apology with a kiss on each of my parents' cheeks. "Am I too late?"

"No, no," my dad said, his voice warm and comforting. "Your brother was about to tell me something, but you just distracted him. Go ahead, Fabrizio."

I turned to him, curious.

"I'm sure we can wait a bit more. Just... after the food," he said.

"Why are you so nervous?" Marjorie asked, her violet fingernails softly laying over his arm in a gentle caress. "It's something good," she said to me. "Don't worry."

"Are you pregnant again?" my mom asked.

"No! No, no!" my sister-in-law responded quickly, her voice almost echoing in the room. Even Rio seemed surprised by her rapid response. "It's Rio's news. Not mine."

“After the food, then,” my father said.

“I hate it when I do that,” I muttered to my brother, grabbing the menu from the table and letting my eyes drift through the print. “You haven’t ordered yet, right?”

My dad shook his head. "We were waiting for you.”

I glanced at the menu one last time before setting it back down. My dad's hand called for a waiter and, after the young man left, the conversation resumed. As usual before any Grand Prix, the race weekend was the matter on the table and, that night specifically, Carlos' penalty was the urgent matter. Ferrari had the pace and Carlos had the skill, but as I sat there, hearing my brother and dad's input on how wise the choice had or hadn't been, my attention diverged to the DNF he had suffered in Austria, less than two weeks ago. Vivid images of the flames engulfing the car, the heartbreaking words on the radio, and the cheers that echoed through the crowd as his teammate stepped onto the top step filled my mind.

One feeling the glory, the other one consumed in ruin.

“Good luck out there this weekend.” "Don’t pull another Austria. That one was scary.”

Done. I’d texted him. For better or for worse, it was done. And I didn’t have time to put the phone back in the purse before it vibrated again in my hand.

“Thank you. I really need it.”

I checked the time.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I’m resting." "Listening to my teammate rant about food, but resting.”

“Why? Did you tell him about the cheese-less pasta you tried to feed me?” “If I expect Leclerc to teach you something is how to cook pasta."

"He’s a terrible cooker.” “I’m better learning it from you.”

"I’ll be sure to give you a lesson someday."

"I'll hold you to that."

"What are you smiling about?" Marjorie asked, my attention immediately being grabbed from my screen to the table.

"Nothing, sorry," I said quickly, tucking my phone back into my purse. "Amanda just texted me about the work I was finishing.”

"Ah, Eva, if you put that effort into racing…" he said, as the waiter came back with our food. I tried to ignore him, especially because there was no use fighting back his comment.

Even with the food on the table and the anticipation to find out about Rio’s news tugging on my chest, the conversation didn’t go further from Formula 1. My dad, a lifelong Italian Ferrari fan and a very biased Carlos supporter was ranting over the lack of professionalism he was sensing from the team and how the choices they repeatedly made ruined not only the drivers but the prestige of the team. Nothing new. Rio and I have been listening to the same tirade for a long couple of years and nothing seemed to change, even after the amazing start to the season the team had.

“I had my reservations at first, but you could be a nice fit for the team, actually”, my dad said, pointing at Rio, with the knife he was using to cut his steak. Rio looked confused at him, and then, at me. “Have they given you an answer?”

What?

For a moment, I felt like I’d fallen on a different table, a completely different conversation. My gaze shifted from one to the other, confused by my father’s question.

“Who’s they?” I asked. Marjorie was biting her lip; her violet fingertips on my brother’s arm, once again.

“Ferrari,” my father responded, clearly stepping over my brother’s feet. Rio seemed bothered; clenched jaw, restless fingers that Marjorie tried to calm by positioning hers over. “Are those the news?” He asked him.

Rio nodded, his jaw unclenching and his lips transforming to a slight grin. "Yep. They offered me a job." He looked around the table, his gaze caught mine for a second but quickly left again. “I need to let them know my decision until Monza.”

“You applied for a job at Ferrari?” I asked. Honestly, I was so confused I couldn’t piece all the things together. “We’re doing so good at the Challenge, you could have waited for just one m—”

“Eva.” My dad interrupted me. The strong stern voice pulled my attention. The authority value of his words over the sweet comforting voice of the beginning of the dinner. The mood had definitely shifted “Wait? You’re the one that’s always urging the team to aim for higher heights.”

"Exactly. The team won't do that without Rio."

"But your brother will. And so will you." I tried to interject but with no success. He continued before I even had the chance to talk. "You can't possibly think your brother would stay with the team knowing he could have this huge opportunity."

"I didn't know about any opportunity." I was replying to my father, but my eyes were directed to Rio. "What about the team? And the Challenge?" I inquired.

"In less than two weeks, the championship will be over. I have no doubts you will win it. You're just losing time there," my father's tone was bothering me, but the fact that he was still cutting his steak as he talked was really aggravating my temper.

Rio, on the other hand, didn't react. His expression didn't even shift. He remained silent, eyes shifting between mine and dad's face. In his silence, though, he was telling me much more than he thought.

"This is not a formality," I said to my father. "Can you please look at me while you talk about our future?"

Finally, he put down his cutlery and remained silent for a few seconds. Deep blue eyes looked up at me, cold and serious.

"There's no future for you if you're afraid to take a serious step," he said finally. "I won't let your brother get stuck in the Challenge when I know he can do so much more. I won't let you make him fall behind because of you."

"Because of me?"

"Why else would he stay at the Challenge?" I stayed silent, feeling my fake sense of confidence being stripped away with the weight of my dad's question. The answer that my conscience gave me was selfish and I refused to say it out loud. I was afraid of staying alone, rather, I was afraid to see Rio flying solo in the higher aims I ambitioned for me and not being able to carry along. Only if he waited, we could jump up together. "Why would he choose anything less than Formula One?"

"So, you have it decided, then?" I asked Rio. "How did that even happen?"

His tongue crept in between his lips, eyes wandering on my face, afraid to reach my eyes. It was making me nervous. Not just because he was about to leave me, but because he didn't tell me about it, prior. My dad knew about it. He even thought that I knew about it. And like a lightning bulb lighting up on my head: Rocco knew it, too.

"It was proposed to me. The job. At Silverstone, a few weeks ago." Even though Rio was stuttering, and his words barely constructed a sentence, piece by piece it all fell together. "Apparently, Carlos talked to someone about you. About the Challenge. And he mentioned me, my results..." he explained. "Carlos invited me there for the Grand Prix and surprised me with an interview."

Why didn't it surprise me? Carlos. The “right time”, of course.

"Your results? Why hide this from me?” I asked, looking around the table. “Clearly, everyone else knows.”

“I wanted to tell you, but didn’t get the chance to do it.”

“But what?” I asked, half defeated, half annoyed. Angry, even. There was so much going on inside me, I couldn’t think straight. “You just said you had the interview in Silverstone. Weeks ago. You had plenty of opportunities.”

“I knew you would snap and react like this,” Rio tried to justify himself.

“Snap? I’m not—” I paused and took a deep breath. At this point, I was seething with anger. “I’m asking questions. I’m not… snapping.”

“You should be happy for me,” I would if I didn’t feel betrayed. “I know you well enough to know that you would react… badly to the news. Especially if you knew Carlos was involved**.**”

Even though his name was blinking on my head, in bold red letters, I tried to set apart his involvement in this story. So, I carried on,

“And you’re just going to do it? Leave the team, the whole project and ditch us? Without even consulting me?”

He shrugged. “I’m consulting you now.”

“This is not a consultation, Rio. Please.” A pause. “This is you telling me what you’re going to do, without even considering my opinion or the team that’s behind your great results.”

“Go ahead.” He made a gesture with his hand. “What’s your opinion, then? You are the one that’s always telling me to aim higher. This is my dream. Always has been.”

“What? Formula One? I thought your dream was to drive in Formula One. Or was that before you noticed you’re a shitty driver? Enlighten me.”

“Eva, enough,” the deep voice cut me off.

I felt like I was going to burst. I wanted to scream, to cry, to express my anger somehow. But my dad's stern gaze kept me in my place. I felt completely helpless and unheard.

“You’re being ridiculous,” said Rio, cutting through the silence. “Childish, even. Ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful? I’m not the one leaving.”

“Why does leaving need to be bad?” The question settled in for a second. “Grow a bit, and maybe you’ll get some good opportunities too.”

“Sure, maybe then my friends will get me jobs, too. Is that what you mean?”

“Enough.” My dad's fist hit the table, loud enough to silence us, but not to the point of attracting too much attention.

My gaze lingered on his clenched fist on the table. I nodded, forcing myself not to say anything else. I placed my napkin on the table and got up, making sure my chair wouldn’t make any noise when pushed back. Before turning around, I paused briefly, my gaze now resting on my brother. “Good luck with your new job.”

It didn't surprise me when I saw Carlos fly through the track the next day, setting amazing times in the qualifying session, despite the penalty waiting for him for the race. He was dancing with the car, tracing beautiful lines within the colourful ones Paul Ricard was known for. Carlos would start P19 the next day, only ahead of Magnussen, who also had a back-of-the-grid penalty.

I traded the interviews for a dip in the pool and lingered there for the remainder of the afternoon. Perhaps because I was not the best person to have around that day, my parents had left just before lunch and didn't get back until after dinner. Alone, with music echoing throughout the house and the crippling anxiety the events that week had provoked, I felt myself get lost in the doubts and uncertainties.

My phone rang when I was already getting ready for bed. On my nightstand, the name Carlos appeared over an old photo of both of us. Like I couldn't control it, I walked to the phone and sat on the bed. I let it ring a few times before picking it up.

“Hi,” he said. I just looked through the window, to the dark backyard. “No good luck text today?”

“Guess not.”

“And why's that?”

“Did you know Rio had an interview to work at Ferrari?”

“Yes...?” He paused. “Is that a problem?”

“Did you know he got a job offer?”

We both fell into a moment of silence. A long sigh stretched through the line. I closed my eyes, not sure what to expect from the conversation. The next time his voice was heard, it was more serious.

"Can we stop asking questions instead of answering them?"

"The timing is funny," I said. "Just that."

"What do you mean?"

"You coming to Mugello? Was that a coincidence?"

"Eva, what?" Carlos was silent for a few seconds. "Don't make this into a drama," he said. "Rio is talented and if he got a job offer it's because he earned it. The things are not remotely related."

"I'm not complaining about him getting the job."

"Then what are you complaining about?" Carlos asked.

"That it took you years to finally come back and talk to me and it happened just when he got a job in your team. Did you really want to talk to me or did he make you do that?"

"I didn't do it for him," Carlos said. "I did it because I wanted to see you."

"I wish I could believe you."

"And why don't you?"

"It's been three years. Coincidences don't just happen."

I could hear him breathe. Silence weighed down my chest. He wasn't denying it. He wasn't telling me why he was there, that night. "Can I see you this week?" He asked me, before a long sigh.

"No."

"I'll be in Maranello for a few days." I bit my lip, shaking my head to the void. "You'll be in Imola, right? I can go there—"

"I don't want to see you." I talked over him and then paused for a brief second. "Don't show up there, please. It's an important week and I don't really need more distractions."

“Eva, por favor.”

“Good luck tomorrow.”

I put my phone away and let myself sink into the bed, feeling nothing but the warmth of the comforters on my skin and the instant sense of security that came over me. I allowed my eyes to close and my mind to drift away, and before I knew it, a prayer for Carlos came into my thoughts.

I prayed for strength for both him and me, for us. I knew that, whether we were on or off the track, we would need to find a way to get through whatever was to come.

Next Chapter: 04.

Thank you for your support in the previous chapter! Carlos will become a more present character in the future. Pinky promise. Don't abandon me until that happens, please! <3

#tightrope #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #fanf1ction #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz jr

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crguang · 4 months ago

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I want to let you know that I actually squealed when I saw that there was a new part of wasted w longing, so that was embarrassing. I giggled so much, love me some domestic fluff, I also gasped so hard at the ending that I started choking. can't believe you updated while I was in class so didn't see it until later.

kafka is so smug I hate her, I want to kiss her on the mouth so bad she's such a weirdo, but at the same time, I'm mad at her, I'll forgive her if she comes home early on my pulls tho, and also some kafka groveling, very excited to see that. also the writing is so good, like at the end I was questing everything about r's encounter's w kafka. and you said replying to someone else's ask that kafka cares atp. wdym atp? istg I love angst but I can't handle angsty endings being w out kafka also you said himeko is going to show up again, and I know that'll be funny. the cliffhangers are killing me, but I'm really excited for the next part, the plot is plotting. also the way at the beginning I literally said out loud, "oh she just got shot, it's okay."

the wanted poster is so funny, like whoever wrote it down must've seen footage of her shooting people as she breaks into somewhere and thought, damn, she is hot as fuck, and tbh that was my thought process when I watched kafka's trailer the first time.

hope your first day at uni was good! if you made me loose my 50/50 I'll---

-🌠

not the squealinggg thats so cute im flattered. it’s funny whenever yall say i post when yall are busy because it’s always 4 to 6 am here i have a horrible sleep schedule 😭 i loved writing the more domestic part cause that’s the first time they actually spend time together without sleeping together and it was kinda cuteee, if you ignore the getting shot part.

“i hate her i wanna kiss her on the mouth shes such a weirdo” is exactly how i feel about kafka im so glad im not alone… also, i meant that at this point of the story kafka already knows that she likes R; she goes out of her way to look out for them, she stares a lot, wants to help them through their dilemma and other stuff that’ll come later. in her mind shes not in love with them but she does like them. i think due to her closed off nature, a lot of the little hints of how she feels are in the way she looks at R and since this is written from R’s (sometimes unreliable) perspective, i mentioned how they can’t read her eyes yet so to them there’s no reciprocation right now. and now that they’re mad at her everything she does will feel disingenuous when it might not be. it’s tricky to write bc as readers i want people to be able to tell that kafka cares even when she’s being a little shit while also staying true to how R sees things. i do think it’ll become much more obvious starting from the next chapter tho cause there will be some grovelling involved lmfaoo.

also this was literally her at the end:

r: i will call the police on you.

kafka: i am so attracted to you right now

its funny, R is always making themself available for her and has been doing that from the beginning so kafka’s very used to this behavior and its the reason why she’s so fucking smug. but now she’s seeing a new side to them that she really likes. they’re standing up for themself and i think it’s a quality that she’d find really attractive in a person. but yeah it’s fun i love this series mainly because the idea mostly came from anons so i love hearing what yall think about it.

my first day at uni was nice!! im looking to getting my shit together honestly, i feel like an actual adult now so hopefully it helps with my mood as well and makes it easier for me to be productive cause i dont write fast at all. if you lose the 50/50 bc of me i’ll write whatever you want as consolation prize

#sat answers #🌠 anon

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marengogo · 2 years ago

Text

Silver Lining - What If #4 : Thoughts of you …

Toxic - by Yael Naim [A cover song of Britney Spear’s Toxic]

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

🐺 — 🐺 — 🐺—

Hello my beautiful people,

How have we all been? But most importantly: who is ready for SEVEN?

If, like me, you stop by the bird app every once in a while, you’ve probably read about the fact that Han So Hee is said to be the heroine of the MV and with this bit of news, all the speculations around it. SOME PEOPLE ARE GETTING BARE MAD. Me? Well, following the release of the promotional posters and the schedule, my mind started racing with possibilities; I am a film geek after all.

So I hope you have your tickets ready, as the time to jump on the train to Delululand has arrived, as I take a wild guess about what the song and the MV might be about. As the loco pilot of this train I would like to remind everyone, as always, to exercise caution and open-mindedness as we enter the fun and treacherous environment of Delululand, as everything that is said henceforth is nothing other than my thoughts and opinions. Okay? Let’s go! 🚂🚂🚂

As you might or might not know, I have a deep connection with our Golden Maknae (as mentioned in this post —> Jungkoo-gate ) so as I tried to channel myself into the elements that we know thus far, a couple of things came to mind. Let’s start with the word obsession, which definition is:

An idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind.

As we know, when JK finds something that he likes, he dives deep into it. It becomes all that he talks about, that he wants to do and know about. Though some of his interests have changed through the years, as he gets older some are becoming fixed passions. Such as body art (tattoos & piercing), boxing, comfy and practical clothing, appreciation and expression of sensuality I’ll get to this in a sec, etc etc etc.

I’m not sure if this was the case before the beginning of their Chapter 2, but mental obsession in particular seems to have become a common theme in JK’s everyday life, and I feel like in SEVEN he might be exploring this side of his. We can notice this for example in Left and Right

Or his bringing up / reacting to JM related content, on multiple occasions

And also, fore= example, the repetition of the song up at night by Kehlani (feat. Justin Bieber), after which particular song he suddenly got inspired and went to work on music.

Up at night, like Left and Right, is a song about not being able to stop thinking about a person, Not a thing, a person. Be it during the day with a therapist, or at night while in bed. SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. Not one day a week, not two days a week, but seven, meaning EVERYDAY. Everyday what? Eating everyday? Singing everyday? Boxing everyday? Thinking of something everyday? Thinking of someone everyday? Knowing JK, if this were to be a person, he’ll most likely say it is ARMY 🤡LOL … Mmmm, moving on.

Sexual vs Sensual.

In the same way the word “Anger” has been highly desensitised as the rapline has cleverly explained in UGH!, I feel that the same faith has met the word “Sexy”. By definition, something sexy is something that makes you think about sex, period. Nowadays however, the word has almost “downgraded” to something a bit tamer, when you see your best friend dressed in a provocative way and say “Ooo, sexy!” you don’t mean that you’d like to have sex with them, nor that people will try to jump them, but most likely they will attract their sex of preference with goals that aren’t necessarily ending up in bed with them.

The word “Sensual” hasn’t met the same treatment, however, in a weird way, it has been almost replaced by the word “sexual” in everyday vernacular.. By definition something sensual, is something that has to do with the appeasing of the senses, especially sexually. So what’s the difference, you might ask. I once, read this difference explanation and I think it makes very much sense:

Something sexual would equate to having sex, whereas something sensual would equate to making love.

You see the difference right? One is just the action, the other is the action mixed with emotions, which makes it much more visceral and quite a deeper experience.

Since Fake Love, we’ve seen JK evolving into a young man who is comfortable with body. When on stage, very much like JM, he has been using his body as part of his performance.

Which begs the questions; is it doing it to be sexual or sensual?

Whenever he says that JM is sexy does he actually mean it in a sexual way or in a sensual way? When he shows us his abs or poses for a CK shoot, does he mean it in a sexual way or a sensual way? Mind you, as with many “similar but different” aspects in the Jikook dynamic, skin exposure also has its difference between the two. JM seems to have no-clothes as a default in his everyday life, whereas JK has a baggy-clothes policy in his everyday life. IN ADDITION, JM has almost become a bit of a prude reaction to anything that is skin revealing, or vulgar, off stage and in front of ARMY most likely thinking of younger ARMY, JK on the other hand doesn’t seem to mind a tiny little bit as he just want to be free to be himself most likely wondering why are younger ARMY watching.

Now, I’m going to get to the appreciation and expression of sensuality part of this post. A lot of talk has been also made in particular with regards to the rings that JK is wearing in one of the posters:

The most prominent speculation has associated the ring/s with BDSM related items and, obviously, we can’t know if this is the case or not, but what we can do is to point out the fact that JK has found himself inserted voluntarily and not into BDSM related conversations.

If you haven’t seen Love and Leashes I would suggest it, it is a very cute and tame way to introduce or just, explain, the BDSM world, without having to go hard core, it is a movie about BDSM afterall so there will be BDSM stuff but in a very tasteful manner. That being said, as the title and topic of the movie is quite explanatory, the only way you’d watch it is if you are interested in BDSM, or at the very least curious about it, as this is NOT an oscar worthy movie, and you can very much live without having watched it if you haven't noticed by now I am very big on both sex and sensuality.

Am I saying that JK is about to star in an MV where he is BDSMing with a person he is obsessed with?

NO. Obviously. This is how antis create stories to rattle people, taking information and reaching possibly triggering conclusions to many a person. But if you take these items singularly and in a mature way, sex, sensuality & BDSM, they are all very adult things that can be dealt with in an adequate and safe way for those who are propense to such things. In the simple manner in which JK answered to have watched Love and Lashes. In the same way, walking around with a T-shirt that has a bisexual flag on it, is different from walking around with a T-Shirt that has someone having sex with both gender sexes, A poster of someone with allegedly wearing bondage rings, isn’t the same way as a poster of someone showing how to use the rings, all supposing those rings are used as those type of rings. For all we know they mean something completely different to JK and only the MV, and lyrics, might shade a light to it as well as JK telling directly what it all means of course.

And now, last but not least: Han So Hee. Imma keep my pansexual ass at bay and just leave the following edit for all of you to summarise the actress that is Han So Hee real quick

Also, it is interesting to point out that her latest movie, Heavy Snow, is a Sapphic one (this has english subs —> Heavy Snow):

youtube

Now, I don’t know if this has anything to do with anything as I think she is famous in particular for being the heroine in the korean drama My Name, as well as the fact that Han So Hee has something to do with the Wooga Squad, or at least Choi Woo Shik as she was at the premiere of IU & Park Seo Joon’s movie Dream with Choi Woo shik, Tae and JK, but it is something that is worth pointing out, I think.

So what do I think might be her role in JK’s MV?

In the above picture JK is being pictured in “real-life” and Han So Hee in a movie role. One of the interpretations of the female role in JM’s Like Crazy was that it was his reflection, which I’m also very comfortable in believing, so like, the female equivalent of JM. So what if Han So Hee played the female version of JK shiiiit, if I were JK I'd want Han So Hee to play me!!!?

HAN SO HEE movie : boxing movie, queer movie, korean movie

HAN SO HEE real-life: has tattooes, has piercings, “has” Wooga” squad easy approach

Looks like a very good actress to represent me, but also if that is the case, the fact that she is a woman, rather than a man is HELLA TELLING, WHICH IS WHY, we need to slow down real quick and think of the other side of the scenarios real quick.

What if, instead of a young woman whom often has thoughts of thoughts of many things that are often thought as provocative and/or taboo, so basically a Daring Summer Song, Haegum style, what if it is your everyday love story of a vanilla couple from the female POV as I do think JK is in the video, but not the main character and the seemingly sexy looking part of the promotion poster refers to a sexual part of their “vanilla” relationship in the song, or maybe is just for the posters and has NOTHING to do with the action video and/or song? Because, you know, couples can get freaky every once in a while and if not we need something innovative for a poster which actually has something to do with the personality of the singer? … 😬😬😬

… ALL THAT BEING SAID, the time has now come to get out of Delululand and straight back to reality. At the end of the day the chances of me being completely wrong about my entire speculation are 85.31%. Yes. But, it did give me a fun ride into JK’s environment and possible scenarios so if all that I thus here speculated turned out to be FAR AWAY FROM WHAT THE SONG AND/OR MVIS ABOUT, then I’ll use it as a prompt for a future movie of mine 🤡.

Always respectfully yours,

Marengo.

#Marengo's Silver World #Marengo's Pre-Thoughts on SEVEN by JK of BTS

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