#been listening to this song SO MUCH lately it's been stuck in my head
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i only want what i can't have
"from now on we are enemies" - fall out boy
#fall out boy#pete wentz#patrick stump#peterick#from now on we are enemies#my edit#been listening to this song SO MUCH lately it's been stuck in my head#This Is What The Bandom Ship Bracket Has Done To Me#Im In Shambles. I Used To Be A Respectable Man. Now Im Making Peterick Edits In 2023
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#that new Hyeju pic oh my đł#HAPPY COMEBACK DAY MY GIRLS đđ„°#i havenât talked about it much here cause Iâve been sick as hell lately but I couldnât be more excited!!!#the mv with the lore (and weâre getting another one for 2 b-sides with some yuri hehe did this for me) the songs all sound incredible#i wasnât the biggest fan of One of a Kind b-sides (and itâs fine I like that theyâre trying different things) but this album is right up my#alley! also I had TALK TO YOU LAAATER LAAATER OOH OOH OOH OOH OOOOH stuck in my head 24/7 canât wait to listen to it on loop itâs a HIT#I canât believe weâre already getting a new comeback & so many new songs Iâm so happy for the girls getting to show off all their talents#& full potential đ„č love them so much Iâm very proud#Loossemble#TTYL#September 2024#kpop#ggs#girl groups#loona#comeback#styling#looks#cool#gorgeous#Vivi#Gowon#hyunjin#hyeju#yeojin
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I've got demons running round in my head And they feed on insecurities I have Won't you lay your healing hands on my chest? Let your ritual clean
#ä»æ„ăźæ°ćăŻ#for once NOT a song I woke up with stuck in my head#because this morning I was awoken by the dulcet tones of one of my neighbors' fire alarms going off for 15+ hours#(it started shortly before I went to bed and I kept waking up to it every hour or so)#(but at like 6 am I had a dream that my apartment was on fire and I had to save my research materials before they caught on fire)#(and I woke up from that and was like okay. I'm done. no more attempts at sleeping until this alarm situation gets fixed)#(and then left a vaguely unhinged maintenance request)#but that's neither here nor there#anyway. this was picked because I started listening to all the music I saved on Spotify as I do every year#and got through all of it (in a surprisingly short time--I apparently didn't find much new music this year)#and then kept listening to that playlist. but then Spotify did that glitch where it suddenly jumps you WAY down on the playlist#and I should note. I do not use their music saving system. instead I have a playlist called Starred which I save all my music to#yes I am aware that this is slightly unhinged. anyway. moving on#so it teleported me back to like. early 2018/late 2017? several days ago? and I have just been listening backward in time since then#I think I saved this one in uhhhh 2016? or maybe early 2017.#anyway. I hear the spirit possession song and it's the ä»æ„ăźæ°ćăŻ. that's just the rules#music#Bastille
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https://www.tumblr.com/2tarbell/756490945730576384/hiiiiiiiiiiii-my-loves-talk-2-me-plzz-and-i
hiii been thinking about bfb w rafe tonight⊠sleepovers at sarahâs with kie (& omg bonus points if reader is in the pogue friend group i can never get enough pogue reader + rafe content) where heâs kinda perving on reader but sheâs kinda into it (oh no she mustâve left her panties at sarahâs house!!! whatever is a girl to do sigh)⊠sheâs all giggly n blushy n flirty n shit when she runs into rafe late at night while getting some water from the kitchen, making sarah and kie wonder what could possibly be taking her so long?
maybe they start texting, out of convenience obviously of course being his little sisters best friend and all, and then maybe it turns into sexting, until rafe canât take it anymore and some sensually filthy smut happensđ„° you can decide the rest if you choose to write this but either way ty for listening to me horny ramblingxhxhjd
àł
SURE OF IT
warnings! best friends brother, pogue!reader, sweetheart!reader, maybe ditzy!reader, rafe is kinda chill? i guess?, mention of weed, reader and rafe are pervs, fingering, pinv smut, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink, dom!rafe, slapping, choking, lmk if i missed anything :)
your best friends brother is the one for you. (3.3K words, fic, © 2tarbell 2024)
ââand rafe is somewhere upstairsâ i know, but we can just ignore himââ
as if.
the beating of your heart picked up at the mention of the eldest cameron.
a small, wicked part of you hoped he would make an appearance. hoped he would taunt and tease you in that deep voice that haunted every single one of your wet dreams.
sarah and kie couldnât know that, of course.
so you made a show of pursing your lips in distaste, sharing a look with kiara that you prayed didnât say âi actually wanna fuck himâ.
it wasnât as if you had this crush on him outta nowhere.
no, your best friends brother wanted you just as much. you were sure of it.
as you walked further into the large home with sarah and kiara, you felt a pleasant nervousness settle in your tummy.
you stood straighter as soon as the three of you turned a corner and crossed paths with the man himself. your heart flipped and stomached tighten with arousal.
rafe stood there with his hands in his pockets, obviously not expecting to see any of you.
biting back your smile was hard as you looked up at him. his eyes were narrowed, brows drawn together that mirrored the small pout on his lips.
âthe fuck kinda pogue convention is thisâ?â
âshut up and leave us alone,â sarah was quick to cut him off, moving past him with a shove of her shoulder against his. kiara smirked and pulled you along.
following after your friends like an obedient little puppy was second nature to you. but you stopped a few steps behind, dropping kiaraâs hand casually.
you smiled as you looked over your shoulder at rafe. batting your eyelashes and and biting your glossy bottom lip.
âhi, rafey,â your voice was sugary sweet.
a singular brow raised, his gaze softening just so.
âuhâ yeah, hi.â
you only giggled softly at his annoyed tone before skimping off to catch up with your girls once you heard kie call for you. missing the way his eyes lingered on your form, taking in the length of your legs and where they disappeared beneath your hand-me-down babydoll dress.
he almost choked when he saw the hem of your dress inch up just enough to catch a glimpse of the bottom of your ass cheeks.
rafe raked a hand through his hair and continued his way through the house, now an uncomfortable tightness in his khakis.
and if he hurried off to a bathroom to jerk off, that was nobodies business but his own.
you couldnât sleep, no matter what you tried.
counting sheep like jj had taught you to one time, singing a song in your head, nothing was working.
you could only blame it on the dampness in your panties. the white lace stuck to your skin and caused you to shift around on the makeshift blanket bed uncomfortably.
since briefly seeing rafe earlier, your thoughts were caught up entirely in the interaction.
you played it back constantly and found yourself smiling and squeezing your thighs together anew.
thank god you had convinced the girls to let you sleep on the floor â you bit your lip as you slid off your shorts and panties. you balled up the lacey garment and stuffed it in the pocket of your sleep shorts once you had pulled them back up your legs.
you had a plan.
you tiptoed to the door, looking back once before you were gone down the hallway and steps. you saw light from under rafeâs door, and you smiled to yourself. before long, you found yourself in the kitchen.
maybe a glass of water would calm you down enough to sleep â where did they keep the glasses again?
cabinets opened and shut as quietly as you could manage, fearing waking anyone up, but making just enough noise.
just as you were beginning to run out of faith for water and your plan, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.
youâve never snapped your head around so quickly, itâs a surprise it didnât just keep rolling and onto the floor.
âoh my godâ!â
the squeak you let out caused rafe to smirk. he quickly gave your body a once over â heat rushing to his abdomen at the sight of your pebbled nipples peeking through the thin sleep shirt you wore.
one of your dainty hands clutched your chest, trying to will your heart to settle. a giggle bubbled up your throat.
ârafe! donât scare me like thatâŠâ
he chuckled breathlessly. a sound that made your pulse quicken even more.
âwhatâre you snoopinâ around for, huh?â he mumbled, voice gravelly from being unused.
you looked cute â hair fluffed up and feet clad in stripped socks. cute in a way that made him wanna bend you over the counter and take you right there, middle of the night be damned.
âhmm? oh, jusââ wanted a drinkâŠâ you hum, turning and opening the cabinet.
âoh, so yânot just being nosey?â
âand what if i am?â
âiâd say you know better, sweetheart.â
his use of the pet name made you feel faint. you set the cup down next to you on the counter.
you werenât a stranger to being called that. or anything like it.
the pogue boys often referred to you as such, patronizing in a way. but you never thought it could sound so good. never cared for it until now.
âitâs such a maze in hereâŠâ you changed the subject, leaning back against the counter. crossing your arms in a way that you knew made your breasts bulge.
you didnât miss the quick glance down from rafe. or the harsh swallow.
âyeah? wouldnât expect you to know anything âbout a house like this.â
he was teasing you. outrightly poking fun at the main difference between you both. kook and pogue.
you cocked your head at his words, batting your eyelashes, âcâmon, donât be meanâŠâ
he smiled and you felt hot all over.
desire completely flushed out any rage and embarrassment. you watched with bated breath as he adjusted his stance and tongued the inside of his cheek.
âdid i lie?â
â⊠yes.â
he scoffed and leaned back against the counter opposite you. the mere feet between you both was charged with sparks.
the way he said your name in that playful, commanding tone had shivers going down your spine. his eyes freezing you in place.
âyâtoo pretty to be playinâ stupid like that.â
you bit your lip and smiled, âyou think âm pretty?â
rafe bounced around for a response, trying to seem cool and collected.
suddenly you were all too aware of the stickiness between your thighs. all too aware of sarah and kiara sleeping upstairs. all too aware of the panties you stashed in your pocket.
you smirked and pushed off the counter.
âgoodnight, rafeâŠâ
he didnât say anything as you walked off out of the kitchen, but you heard an intake of breath when you dropped the underwear out of your pocket.
you stopped in your tracks when you heard him choke out your name.
âhmm?â
sparkling eyes and a pretty smile made rafe forget all semblance of how to act.
after all, he was a selfish man.
ânothinâ, uhâ night, kid.â
too easy.
you hurried back up the stairs, looking over the banister and watching as he bent down and picked up your panties.
a moan threatened to slip past your lips when he brought them up to his face and smelled them.
needless to say, neither of you got any sleep that night.
rafe was losing his mind. he had to be.
what other explanation was there for him to have fisted his cock all night with your panties? painting his hand over and over and it still not feeling like enough.
he was embarrassed, yes, but he also wanted more. he wanted you.
it felt like divine intervention when he phone buzzed and your name popped up on his screen.
â
hiii
sent at 7:48 pm
â
he had been thinking about you all day, completely in his head.
anger and arousal fighting for dominance. it seemed arousal always came out on top.
â
What do you want
sent at 7:50 pm
â
rafe knew he was fucked when he actually felt bad for being short with you.
he scrolled back up through your previous messages. they were all innocent â you simply asking him to open the front door or even begging him to get you and the girls some weed.
he doesnât know exactly when things changed, when you changed.
bzzz!
â
can u give me a ride :C sarah said she canât
sent at 7:51 pm
Where you at
sent at 7:51 pm
â
yeah, rafe was thoroughly fucked.
but he really didnât care anymore as he grabbed his keys off his nightstand and and shoved his feet into some shoes.
he couldnât stand it anymore. and as he pulled out of the driveway, he knew something had to give.
âyouâre a lifesaver, rafey.â
he only hummed in response, putting his truck in reverse and driving out of your quaint little workplaces parking lot.
some dumb pogue flower shop. rafe really didnât give a shit if he was honest.
he stole glances at you in his passenger seat, looking so perfect and pretty. like you belonged there, belonged next to him.
he could feel himself start to grow hard in his pants when you crossed one leg over the other. the plush of your thighs looking oh-so inviting.
you smiled at him, and rafe rolled his eyes, looking back at the road ahead.
âwhat?â
âhmm? i canât look at you?â you teased.
the scoff he let out made you wanna laugh, so you did. a sweet sound that often drove him insane.
and looked at him you did. eyes taking in every inch of exposed bicep that was peeking out from his polo. his skin was tanned from the summer sun and you found yourself wondering what it would look like with your lipstick all over it.
he grit his teeth, setting his jaw.
âyâknow iâ youâre notâ youâre not slick,â the words fell from his mouth in a grumble.
âwhatâ?â
you felt a rush of adrenaline when he pulled the familiar white lace out of his pocket and threw it onto your lap.
before you could question further, rafe pulled the truck to the side of the road. it was hidden between two trees, the setting sun helping to conceal it.
âyâthink this shit is funny?â his voice was rough and you were unsure if the question was rhetorical. you stared at him with wide eyes and an open mouth.
it was tense and you couldnât move. just stared at him blankly.
âi didnât think thatââ
ânah, you didnât think, did you?â
âiâmâ iââ
you didnât know what to say or do. the last thing you expected was to be scolded by him. confronted by your own actions. but you couldnât suppress the wave of need that surged through you.
âyouâ you want me? you want this?â he mumbled, eyes flickering between yours.
the question made you flush again. never in a million years did you think it would end up like this. that you would actually have him. your answer felt obvious.
âmhm.â
âwords.â his command made you melt.
âyeah, yes, please,â you breathed and watched as he unbuckled his seatbelt.
rafe grasped your jaw and pushed his thumb into your mouth, feeling the warm muscle of your tongue wet against his skin. you responded eagerly, sucking on the digit.
âaâight. then get in the fucking back.â
you registered to click of your own seatbelt and blinked as he reached past you and pushed open the door.
his thumb left your mouth with a pop and he pushed your face away, that mean way that you had always dreamt about. you had half a mind to do anything but what he told you to.
before you knew it, you were on your back and sprawled in the backseat with rafe on top of you. his hand shoved up your skirt, knuckle tortuously rubbing up and down against your panty clad clit.
you were a mess already.
rafe spent at least ten minutes grumbling about how much of a tease you were. detailing every time he just wanted to grab you and fuck you senseless. he made fun of you, of your slickness and delicate (although cheap) panties that were damp by your arousal.
he mocked you as you whined, but let you press pink lips up his arm. the kiss marks looking just as delicious as you thought.
despite the dirty talk and his hand now around your throat, he had yet to kiss you. you watched his mouth form words but you could hardly hear anymore, desperate for more. for anything he would give you.
âhey, hey, âm talkinâ to you. dumb fucking girlââ
his palm lightly connected with your cheek, the slight sting bringing a dazed smile to your lips.
rafe chuckled at the already fucked out expression on your face. heâd hardly done anything yet and you were already melted beneath him.
too fucking easy.
his voiced cooed lowly, squeezing your throat tighter, âcâmon, sweetheart. focus, yeah? can you do that fâme?â
you were nodding before he even finished speaking, hips rolling up against his hand as he pushed your panties to the side.
âkiss me? need it, pleaseâ need you, rafeââ
the harsh slap against your weeping cunt makes your eyes flutter and a gasping moan is drawn from your lips. you watch with an agape mouth as rafe leans down closer, lips just inches from yours.
âsânot my name, is it?â he tuts.
no fucking way.
youâre breathing heavily against his lips. chest heaving and hands grasping at the front of his shirt.
you knew what he wanted you to say. and you wanted it just as bad.
âdaddy, daddy, pleaseââ
that soft plea was all it took for him to lean in and close the gap between you. he devoured your mouth eagerly, parting your lips with his own.
you welcomed his tongue into your mouth, feeling it twist and swirl around yours. you did your best to keep up, but his fingers had started to rub circles against your clit. you were completely gone when he slid a finger in.
âyâgot such a needy little pussy, huh? sucking my finger so tightââ
the way he mumbled against your lips would haunt you. he began curling his finger inside of you, searching for that spongey patch that would cause you to see stars.
once he found it, you couldnât focus on kissing him back anymore. you sat open mouthed, soft sighs and bucking hips spurring him on.
âthere it isâ gooood girl. câmon, gimme one and iâll fuck you like you need,â he rasped out, sliding in a second finger.
the want you felt was unlike anything else. it didnât take long to have you writhing helplessly beneath him. a half hearted warning of your impending release only making him devilishly smile.
you were brainless by the time he removed his hand and brought glistening fingers to your lips. it was second nature to let your mouth fall open and suckle his large fingers.
the trance only ended when you heard the clinking buckle of his belt. rafe pushed your knees against your chest, not before pulling the neckline of your tank top down to let your tits spill out. (âperfect fuckinâ tits. knew theyâd be so gorgeousâŠâ)
your hands pushed up his shirt, needing to see his toned chest. rafe pulled it over his head with one hand, the action alone couldâve made you cum again.
âgonna be a good girl and take it all?â
his words were emphasized by the head of his cock slotting between your folds. the sensation of his tip bumping against your swollen clit making you flinch.
he didnât move until you spoke, words coming out rushed and slurred from arousal, âmhm, yeah, yeahââ
feeling him push into you made you see stars. he held your gaze and you watched as his brow furrowed in concentration, his mouth dropping into a low moan. he was so unfairly attractive.
once he bottomed out, you knew he ruined your pussy for anyone else. never had you felt so full. every vein and ridge of his dick suctioned by your gummy walls.
ânnngghhâ ohmygodââ you gasped out, feeling unable to breath as he spilt you in half.
rafe was unbelievably deep. his hips pressed right up against yours. he was watching as he disappeared into you, glazed over eyes as you arched your back off the seats.
his voice was strained, âsâpretty like this. taking me so well.â
you couldnât make coherent sentences, you felt felt him everywhere. the way he had your knees pressed against your chest allowed him to slide in and out somehow deeper each time.
âi canâtâ canâtâ nnnngghhhââ the sounds you were making sounded like sobs.
âyeahâ yes, you can, baby. doing so well, letting me ruin this pretty cuntâŠâ
rafe reached a hand down and pressed on your lower stomach. the pressure allowed for more stimulation of your g-spot but also allowed him to feel his cock thrusting in and out.
he took your hand and placed it, holding it against your abdomen with his. you choked at the feeling.
âfeel that? thatâs me. thatâs daddy fuckinâ you stupid, yeah?â
âjesus fucking christââ
rafe breathed out a laugh at your curse. you were becoming less and less coherent as he fucked you, your eyes threatening to roll back when his thumb found your clit again.
he slapped you again, urging your eyes back on him. ânuh-uh, look at me, kid, there ya goââ
tears flooded down your cheeks as his hips slapped against yours with more fervor. it was too much, your body was aching for release.
he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the warmth of his mouth made you start rocking your hips to meet his. rafe groaned and increased his pace, the sticky wet sounds filling the truck.
it was sloppy and messy, you were almost embarrassed at how wet you were. rafe didnât care though, not when he was finally claiming the girl heâs wanted for so long.
âmmfâ yâgonna cum on this cock? gimme that shit, câmonââ
you didnât need another invitation. you were creaming on his pulsing length in seconds, hot white blinding your vision and a pleasant fuzziness blocking out your senses.
the warmth of his release made you shudder as he shallowly fucked into you with low groans that curled up into whines. his own orgasm made his rhythm stutter. he collapsed onto you in a sweaty heap.
neither of you spoke for a few moments, caught up in an intimate quiet that seemed so fragile. rafe littered kisses across your neck and collarbone. his touch soft in a way youâd never expect. you scratched his scalp with your painted nails, feeling a rush of affection when he practically purred.
finally you whispered, âare you⊠mad at me?â
his head snapped up, questioning and lingering lust clouding his blue eyes. he brought a hand up and brushed hair away from your face.
âno, âm not mad. never wasâŠâ he mumbled hoarsely.
the relief was visible in your tired features. rafe felt a pang of something in his chest⊠guilt? longing?
âdo you⊠i mean⊠what just happened?â you asked dumbly, feeling the weight of confusion settling in your bones.
he shushed you, pressing his lips to yours so tenderly, it felt unreal. a stark contrast to the heated encounter you two just shared.
âlemme⊠take you out?â
the question felt foreign on his lips, a soft tone he never really used.
but your smile was radiant.
rafe felt stupid for not asking sooner if it meant he got to see that reaction. you nuzzled his nose with yours gently.
he huffed, feeling himself grow mushy under your adoring gaze. you just giggled in that precious way that made him feel weak. nodding eagerly and wrapping your arms around his neck.
your best friends brother was the one for you. you were sure of it.
© 2tarbell 2024
#rafe cameron#drew starkey#fanfic#outer banks#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe x you#rafe x reader#obx smut#obx x reader#obx fanfiction#obx imagine#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine
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ten things han jisung says when he thinks youâre asleep â fluff, established relationship, little angst
chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | HAN | felix | seungmin | jeongin
that marks the end of this series!
one. there's this song that's been stuck in my head for days now. it's called love me harder by the woodz. i think you'll really like it too. i think i can't stop listening to it because it reminds me of you. there's a line that goes, 'everyday in my head, i think you're the one', and i always find myself thinking about you. i really think you're the one for me, pretty girl. i'll find a time to tell you this when you're awake. i'm just nervous i'll scare you away if you found out just how much i love you.
two. i still think about the first time you ever kissed me. i don't think i'll ever forget about it. ah, you have me wrapped up around your finger, darling.
three. lee know makes fun of me because i've been watching a lot of romance anime lately. he's just jealous because i have someone as lovely as you to think about when we watch them together.
four. thank you for being exactly the way that you are and for giving me a love i've needed my whole life.
five. i don't think my jokes are very funny. i said the same joke i told you last night to the boys today, but they didn't laugh as hard as you did. seungmin even made fun of me. thank you for laughing at all my jokes. even when they aren't funny. seeing you smile is enough of an accomplishment for me.
six. ah, i can't believe i'm with the girl i've been in love with for forever in college. someone pinch me, actually let me pinch myseâouch. okay, this is real. this is real. oh my god, this is real, and i'm in love with you and you're in love with me. i love you. i'm completely, endlessly, madly in love with you. i can't believe you're actually here and sleeping next to me. i'm not dreaming this up, not in the way i did before. this is real. wow.
seven. you know, there were so many times i thought of giving up. but, you believing in me was enough reason why i didn't stop even when i lost hope sometimes. thank you for believing in me. you make me strong.
eight. it's getting bad again. i'm scared you'll eventually see me the way that i see myself, and you'll end up leaving.
nine. you're my person, did you know? in that show you keep talking about. what was it, grey's anatomy? i can be your meredith, or the other one. i don't really know how this works because i haven't seen a single episode. i just listen to you when you rant about it. but you're my person. my favorite person, in fact.
ten. you make me feel so human.
#k-labels#stray kids x reader#jisung x reader#han x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#stray kids drabbles#stray kids blurbs#stray kids reactions#stray kids fic#han jisung x reader#han jisung fluff#han jisung au#han jisung fanfic#han jisung drabbles#han jisung reactions#han jisung scenarios#skz x reader#skz x you#skz fanfic#skz fluff#han fluff#han x you#stray kids han x reader
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the sweetest sin of all
aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader ||
summary: in the midst of investigating a serial killer who chooses victims based on the seven deadly sins, aaron hotchner finds himself entangled in more than just the case (inspired by hozier's new song 'too sweet'):
word count: 3.4k
warnings: heavy tension, hurt comfort, crossing professional boundaries and general talks of CM violence and murder (nothing graphic):
a/n: hi! i wrote this entire thing for a friend, but maybe you might enjoy it too! this is my first piece of writing on this new blog so if you like feel free to like, reblog or even just let me know! and hopefully if it goes well there'll be more soon!
a/n update: it went well, here's part two!)
From the dim lighting of the office it was almost impossible to tell the exact lateness of the night. His watch consistently ticking, remained a steady rhythm. He ran a hand across his face, his tie undone and lying, long discarded on his desk. The first few buttons of his shirt undone, unbuttoned and an almost vulnerable step away from his usual armour. Papers containing violence were spread haphazardly and with chaos across his desk. A nearly forgotten glass of strong neat whiskey sat in place of his usual bitter coffee.
His team had been on the case for nearly a week, and Hotch felt they were no closer to catching the Unsub. The whole team was feeling the pressure. The profile told him they were dealing with a moral enforcer, a highly organised, violent offender with a clear mission. It should have been easy for them but bodies seemed to be continuously appearing and everyone was feeling uneasy and frustrated.
He was drowning in the details of this case, the Unsub's pattern ever-present in his mind. He thought of the remaining sins - envy, wrath, and lust - and something burned deep within his chest. It was a dangerous game they played, one where the stakes were higher than any case he'd ever worked on.
Being head of the team he felt the responsibility more vehemently than the rest, and he was doing something heâd promised the team he wouldnât. He was letting it get to him.
Thereâd been four victims so far, each killed to match one of the seven deadly sins. So far his victims had been; gluttony - an overzealous upscale restaurant critic who binged food that he slated publicly, greed - a high-profile stock broker with the inability to control his obsession with obtaining more of his client's money, sloth - a wealthy trust fund baby who squandered their university scholarship out of laziness and pride - a wealthy woman with a shopping addiction who frequented beauty salons and had an intense social media presence flaunting herself.
Each victim came from a different geographical area of the city and Garcia hadnât been able to uncover any crossover between their lives where it might have been somewhere they could have met the Unsub. There were no leads and the team felt at a loss.Â
Knowing the Unsub was three victims away from the end of his mission, Hotch knew they were close to losing him if they didnât catch a break soon. Heâd sent the team home to get some sleep and told them to be ready bright and early the next day. Yet Hotch couldn't bring himself to leave the office, hoping the crime scene photos might uncover something he'd missed. He thought everyone had listened to his orders until he was drawn away from the graphic images in front of him by a gentle knock at the door.
"Come in." He croaked harshly, the hours of not speaking catching up to his vocal chords.
It was her. Of course, it was her.
She always had a way of pulling him from the edge, of grounding him when the world became too much. In the chaos and uncertainty of their work, she was his constant, his unwavering beacon of light. She was his solace, his calm in the storm, and in that moment, he allowed himself to get lost in her.
She was like honey, dripping out and pooling where flies could get stuck on the intoxication and drown. He could feel it, the danger she could be. If heâd been a man less controlled he could see how she could be his every downfall and triumph. In her, he saw a reflection of all his desires and fears. She was every strength and weakness. In the moment, he couldn't help but want to drown in the intoxicating allure of her, his deadly and dangerous, yet irresistibly sweet sin.
âIâm heading home for the nightâŠâ Her voice trailed off in a quiet hush to match the silence of the office.Â
The creases in his forehead from pouring over crime scenes and endless theories seemed to smooth out. He breathed out hours' worth of tension in a single breath, allowing the corners of his mouth to turn upwards so quickly that unless sheâd been a profiler paying attention she might not have noticed. The way his body language shifted was subtle enough to the untrained eye, but not to her. He couldnât conceal himself in his controlled, cold-edged front as well as he usually could when she was around.
"I gave those orders hours ago." He mused, leaning back in his chair, the breath of a sigh dying on his lips.
She gently shook her head, a soft laugh escaping her. "I thought you might be used to me defying your orders by now, Hotch. You should take your own advice, didnât you promise to stop working so late," she replied, a glint in her eyes that held an irresistible challenge. Their playful banter was a welcome change from the dark seriousness that heâd been so consumed by moments ago.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief waiting for his retort.
"I didnât promise anything." He huffed.
She didnât wait for an invitation, she didnât need to. Crossing the threshold of his office and making her way to the imposing desk of the Unit Chief.
Sheâd not seen her boss look so troubled by a case in a long time. Her gaze was drawn to him as his elbows leaned against the desk, his usually impeccable suit dishevelled. She noted the way the top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a hint of the man beneath the stoic FBI Unit Chief. It was a stark contrast to the man who was always put together, always in control. Yet, in that moment, he looked anything but. Not yet unravelled, but on the edge of it.
She moved further into the office, she was not someone who second-guessed her decisions. She walked with confidence, and perched herself on the edge of his desk, letting her legs dangle over the edge her black work trousers tight across her thighs. She rested her hand on the desk, dangerously close to her Hotchâs, mere centimetres.
His gaze shifted from the papers in front of him and followed the contours of her face, lingering a moment too long on her lips. He swallowed hard, his mind flickering with thoughts he'd held at bay for far too long. But he was Unit Chief, and professionalism might as well have been his middle name. He lightly shook his head, feeling the back of his eyes burn from the focus heâd had all day.
Hotch wasnât one to open up, he was always controlled but around her, there was a tug at the stitches of his personality.
âI have a bad feeling about this case.â He hummed, the night breeze catching against the window. He could smell her perfume, mixing with the scent of burnt coffee and paper. He dare not think about it too long.
He reached across his desk and grabbed his near-forgotten whiskey, downing it in one drag. He bent towards where her legs were hanging over his desk, motioning for her to lift them. She drew them up towards her chest and he opened the drawer beneath her pulling an expensive-looking bottle from it and refilling the glass, this time handing it to her. Their fingers grazed slightly with the exchange. His warm, hers icy cold - meeting to form the perfect temperature.
âWe have no leads. I always trust the profile, but this case⊠Weâve got nothing.â His eyes watched her as she swirled the liquid around the glass, her eyes watching it splash against the sides. He sighed in defeat, rubbing his eyes with both of his hands before leaning his head back, a deep exhale exiting his thin lips.
âWeâll get him.â She said confidently, something shifted in her tone. It was like a dagger's sharp edge, certainty dripping off it like blood. He almost believed her, but she could see the already dim light dissipating from his dark eyes. She felt sympathy pooling in the tips of her fingers. If she didnât hadnât been holding their shared glass she might have reached out and touched him so that it could bleed from her into him, so that he would feel less alone.
She leaned back slightly, her eyes searching his. It was unclear what she was searching for in them. He couldnât read her entirely, even with all his years of profiling. When she smiled, he felt his heart catch in his throat. It was like looking directly at the sun. Burning and bright hot.
âYou should follow your own orders⊠And for once so should I. Go home. Get some rest.â She downed the liquid with a swift tip of her head. Hotch watched the curve of her neck as she moved and the way she licked her lips catching a fallen drop of liquor. She laid the glass down on the desk, allowing her hand to brush over his. His skin crackled with electricity.
She moved with grace as she climbed down from his desk. That one moment shared more intimate than sheâd expected it to feel, with their proximity, the lateness of the hour and the unusually undone Aaron sitting at his desk.
His eyes followed her every movement, skin stinging as if heâd been burned. She was halfway to the door before he heard himself call out to her. It almost didnât sound like his own voice.
âWait. Donât go yet. Come here.â His voice was firm like it always was, but there was a depth to it that she hadnât heard before. One sheâd always longed for. His eyes glinted with dark hues as he watched her turn from the door. He almost breathed out in relief.
She had an unreadable expression. One that set the blood in his veins on fire. She lowered her head, and with it, her eyes darkened. He stood from his desk, making his way over to her with steps that felt dreamlike. Their eyes met with an energy never shared before and once in front of her he reached out, gently tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so that he had an unobscured view of her whole face. The same face that had the power to completely undo him.
Her eyes widened slightly as if surprised by his gentle touch, but at the same time, there was a knowing in them as if sheâd been waiting for it all along. She remained still, and his heart pounded in his chest as he looked into his eyes, an unspoken conversation passing between them. It felt like any words would have made the moment less intimate.
His hand lingered against her cheek, the warmth radiating from his touch was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of his office. Her skin felt like it was burning under him. The silence between them was palpable, filled with the yet unspoken words and emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Hotch, usually so controlled in his feelings suddenly felt so unsteady. His heart beat suspiciously with the feeling that perhaps heâd crossed a line.
âHow do you know?â He whispered, eyes scanning hers as if he were a detective trying to uncover the evidence that gave her certainty. In the light of the office, she looked like sheâd been hand carved, art that heâd been lucky enough to be in the presence of. He traced his thumb over her lips, eyes heavy with a mixture of desire and something else she couldn't quite place. It was a dangerous gesture, one that could endanger his whole career.
'I trust you, and thatâs all I need to know that weâll get him.' she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, eyes glazed with a devotion that almost made him groan. The conviction of her words pierced his wavering confidence. Heâd gone from feeling almost hopeless to buzzing with determination.
He let his hand fall away from her face, but the warmth lingered, an almost promise that what sheâd been sure sheâd felt moments ago had indeed been real. Reality swarmed his brain, aware of the situation heâd almost found himself in. He straightened up, posture contrasting his relatively dishevelled exterior.
"Youâre right, you should follow my orders. Go home, get some rest. I told the team weâd start fresh in the morning," he instructed, a softness in his voice that was rarely displayed. But she didnât move, and he didnât either.
He watched her eyes for any sign of discomfort, the tension in the room was palpable, an electrifying current that Hotch didnât dare to break. Silence blanketed them, only broken by the ticking of his watch. It was a solitary reminder of the passing time, yet the urgency of their case had fallen to the back of his mind.
âClose the door.â She instructed, using the same authority that Hotch usually spoke with. The change in dynamic almost made him falter, but with a small smirk, he moved towards the door. Heâd been aware of the power imbalance he held in his position but with the tone of her voice, there was a subtle shift in the air between them. She moved back towards his desk with certainty. Moving his name tag so she could perch to face the dark space of the office.
Their eyes met across the room. She tilted her head to the side, examining his body language. As he locked the door behind him, the air seemed to constrict around them, the room becoming a world of its own where only they existed. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the lock and their breathing. It echoed throughout the office, bouncing off the walls and settling into their bones. The tension escalated, but it was different now, charged with an anticipation that neither of them could ignore.
He might have been unit chief, but right here, right now, she was in charge. The line between professional and personal blurred dangerously as their eyes locked, a promise of something more hanging in the balance. The air was charged now, they were poised, daring each other to make the first move. They both knew that they were on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could have dire consequences professionally.
Yet, the pull was too strong to ignore, and for the first time, Hotch allowed himself to teeter on the edge, his resolve tested by the powerful undercurrent of desire that crackled between them. Tonight, they were not just colleagues, they were two individuals drawn together by an irresistible force. In the room, the undeniable chemistry that had been simmering under the surface for far too long had nowhere to hide.
On the desk, she rested each hand palm down to the side of her thighs and opened her legs wider to create space for his body to fit. She moved her head in a motion for him to step forward. Hotch couldnât think, couldnât breathe, pupils were blown wide from more than just the darkness of the room. How long had he craved something so forbidden, how long had he denied himself the idea that this could ever happen?
As he moved closer to her, he couldn't help but think about the deadly sin of lust, a strong passion or longing that was deemed sinful. Here he was, teetering on the edge of crossing professional boundaries, something heâd never done. The balance of energy in the room was no longer solely from the stress of the case, it was about them - about her. He could have tried to argue that it was, but no jury in the state would believe him. If this were a trial, he was about to be found guilty.
The Unsub's deadly pattern echoed in his mind - the three sins heâd yet to kill for; envy, jealousy over another's life or possessions, wrath, a violent anger driven by hatred, and finally, lust, a powerful desire that can become all-consuming, much like the craving he was experiencing in that very moment. Looking upon her he felt envious of anyone who had ever been allowed to touch her, he felt wrath for anyone who had ever wronged or hurt her, and most of all he felt lust. He definitely felt lust, his desire for her taking over all his senses.
Was he caught between duty and desire? No, he had no doubt in his mind. The sheer intensity of her shared gaze and the way she was beckoning him forward smashed the boundaries of their relationship. Heâd never seen her in this light, never dared to allow himself to think of her like this. But now she was in front of him how could he ever deny himself something so sweet?
Hotch had always been a man of control, a man who kept his emotions in check. But in this room, with the charged atmosphere heavy between them, he felt his resolve wavering. He was caught in the powerful current of the desire for her that heâd managed to keep at bay. He didnât want to be in control anymore.Â
He closed the distance between them, fitting himself between her legs, his hands landing on her hips as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
She brought one hand off the desk to hold the waistband of his suit trousers, tugging lightly.
âAre you finally going to kiss me, Agent Hotchner?â She asked, voice dripping with honey. Sweetness laced with danger that hit him right in the chest like a bullet.
She was an intoxicating mix of all seven, a deadly sin in her own right. She was his lust, his unending desire. She was his gluttony, the one he wanted to consume endlessly. She was his greed, the one he wanted all for himself. She was his sloth, his reason for inertia. She was his wrath, the one who could ignite a fire in him like no other. She was his envy, the one he admired and coveted. And she was his pride, the one who made him feel like he was on top of the world.
âYou will be the ruin of me.â He breathed, his eyes almost black. He looked down at her taking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief and satisfaction. He was entirely wrapped around her finger. Tonight, he decided, he would willingly drown in this sweet sin, consequences be damned.
âThat is entirely my intention.â She chuckled and he groaned, a guttural sound that felt foreign to him.
"Only if you promise not to tell the team," he murmured, a playful undertone to his voice.
As he leaned down to capture her lips with his, he knew without a doubt that this was a deadly sin he was willing to commit. It was both sweet and intense, a perfect reflection of their now complicated relationship.
Her lips tasted of the whiskey they'd shared, sweet with a hint of burn that left him wanting more. She tasted like a curse, sickeningly sweet as if to cause him decay. He deepened the kiss, pulling her impossibly closer. He was standing on the cliff of the unknown, and he was more than willing to jump and fall headfirst.
As he pulled away, he couldn't help but study her face. Heâd come face to face with endless serial killers, and been in the presence of pure evil. But heâd never been so close to something so dangerous. She was a temptation he couldn't resist. Sweeter than any apple in the Garden of Eden. He traced the contours of her face with his fingers, his gaze never leaving hers.
He could still taste her on the back of his tongue, sugar and shared whiskey burning. Heâd never been so certain that heâd been willing to trade his control for the intoxicating sweetness that was her. She was a forbidden fruit that was too alluring to resist, and Aaron Hotchner had no more resistance left in him. Not now heâd tasted something so delicious.
After all, wasn't life about balancing the deadly sins and virtues? Tonight, he chose to sin.
(you can now read part two here!)
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đđđđđ đđđđđđ đđđđ đđđđđđđđ đđđđđđđ
đđđđđđđ â« Lando Norris x fem!reader
đđđđđđđ â« You Lando canât stay away from each other, no matter how bad you should be running for the hills.
This is heavily inspired by the song âRun for the Hillsâ by Tate McRae
đđđđđđđđ: 16+, use of Y/n, 3rd Person POV
âȘ đđźđ§ đđšđ« đđĄđ đđąđ„đ„đŹ âȘ đšđ§đđŹđĄđšđ âȘ đđđ âȘ ïżœïżœïżœ.đđ€ đ°đšđ«đđŹ
Did this idea also come from the possibility that Lando (or his car) might be featured in Tateâs new music video? yes. Yes, it did.
Never gonna ever be more than just something thatâs fucking me up,
Should run for the hills, should run for the hills
Should be running for the hills the way you touch me.
This dilemma youâre in, is nothing new. Partners with benefits? Friends with benefits? Sure, but it's a bit more complicated than Mila Kunis and Justin Timberlake.Â
If anyone, meaning anyone, found out about your relationship (if you could even call it that), youâd both be fired. Ended. Then in your case, probably disowned.Â
Across from the table, your secret sits a few seats away, chatting with another member of the team. Occasionally, you make eye contact and its never casual glances because his eyes hold a type of want that makes your skin burn. Each time your eyes meet, itâs like a secret signal. His hazel eyes hold promises that you swear could end wars. Or start them. Whatever he wanted, probably.Â
No matter how much tension and stolen glances passed between you two, nothing could ever come of it tonight. He, Lando Norris, is a McLaren Formula One racing driver, and you are untouchable to him. Because you are the daughter of a rich man, a rich man who happens to be the leading sponsor of the McLaren Racing team. Your fatherâs business is so large, that if any reporter, coworker, friend, or teammate caught wind of an interpersonal relationship between you and Lando, heâd be ruined. Nothing stops the media from taking lies and twisting them for any audience thatâll listen.Â
Itâs been about six months of team dinners and other events since your family became a McLaren business partner. Six months where youâve gotten way too close to Lando. Originally, you listened to your fatherâs warnings about dating anyone McLaren-related, but with Lando, you couldnât help yourself.
The flirting became more than playful, and the careful touches became purposeful. Up until last night, the most you two had ever physically interacted is small brushes of your hands in crowded rooms, or that one time you swear he grazed your leg while sitting in a conference. Then last night, at the hotel your family and him were conveniently sharing, you let your needs win. You went to his room because you couldnât sleep and wanted company at first, but then he invited you to his room's patio hot tub.Â
Hotels, late nights, hands through my hair,
Long talks, red eyes, clothes everywhereâŠ
You talked a bit, kissed a bit, kissed more, explored each other, but never did anything serious. Eventually, you both shared the realization that your family might come looking for you, so you stopped. However, ever since you left him last night, youâve only been able to think about his hands and his lips. Little did you know, he was stuck on the same thing.
You both wanted it, and were willing to throw everything out of the window just to be in each other's reach. So, what was stopping you?
That was the same question that was running through both you and Landoâs mind tonight.
âWhatâs stopping us?â Your eyes tried to communicate to him, while tilting your head a bit.Â
He let a smirk slip at first, but then immediately hid it, hoping no one caught him. If anyone followed his eyesight, theyâd easily catch you two looking at each other with more fire than the hibachi stove next to you.Â
You ate silently and talked to other business moguls around the table, trying your hardest to ignore how Lando was practically undressing you with his eyes.Â
âSo, Y/N, howâs life treating you?â A man who is two seats away from you changed the subject from baseball and directed it to you. He was wearing a classic pinstripe 3-piece suit that looked like it was going to pop open any second. He had an air that absolutely radiated money, or perhaps that was just the cologne thatâs been burning your nose all night.Â
You twitched your nose at the smell, then plastered a fake smile when looking at the man. âAs good as it can get, I guess.â You answered him and took a look around the table, seeing how everybody has stopped to listen to your conversation.Â
There were some people that you recognized, and some that you didnât. (And one person that you wished you knew everything about.) Some people wore nice clothing, and others were dressed in casual or orange.Â
âGood, good,â the man added while stabbing a piece of steak, swirling it in brown sauce on his plate. He shoveled the food into his mouth and continued nodding like he was still going to speak. He waved his fork in your direction, as he chewed. At first, he looked like he would never swallow the food. Finally, with what looked like a painful gulp, he cleared his throat and spoke again. âYou, uh, getting into the family business anytime soon?â
âSorry?â I asked, slightly confused with his wording. I was already in the family business, and I was sure he already knew that.
âExcuse me,â he began again. âI only meant to ask if you had put any thought into properly naming yourself an owner of your familyâs company.âÂ
You were at an age where most business owners started inheriting the business, but your father was as healthy as ever, so there was no need to think about that. Maybe the man was looking for an opening to join your familyâs company?Â
âOh, um, Iâve already prepared myself to inherit the business when the time comes, if thatâs what you're referring to, but my place as a business representative is serving me well enough at the moment.â
The man nodded again, shoveled more meat into his mouth, nodded more, then gulped. âAhhh, I see.âÂ
His words shouldnât have meant anything rash, but his tone was so sour that I almost flinched. Anyone that wasnât in the industry wouldnât think twice about his wording, but when youâve been surrounded by people like him all of your life, you catch the real meanings. In high class motorsport business, people rarely ever say what they actually mean, so you have to learn to understand their underlying cues.Â
For example, someone could say âyour business has been running pretty consistently recently,â when they really mean âI know you're going into debt nana nana boo boo.â
This man said âAhhh⊠I see,â in a way that sounded very impolite.
âSorry, but it almost sounded like you were doubting my daughterâs future.â Your father spoke up, cutting off the man who was speaking to you. Your father must have also caught on to the manâs tone. The man shook his head quickly and looked around the table, trying to explain. Everyoneâs attention was still on our conversation.Â
Even Landoâs. Especially Landoâs.
Lando looked like he wasnât enjoying the manâs accusations, eyes almost predatory.Â
You looked away from him, and back to the blubbering man. âNo, no, no, no, no, sir. You must understand. I was only curious whether your daughterâs recent affairs had affected the re-â
âAffairs?â My father spoke louder. He didnât look at me for clarification, he just looked angrier at the man.Â
âWell, I mean, everybodyâs noticed her and the McLaren racer becoming uncomfortable close for a business relationship.â The man looked both nervous, yet proud of his words.Â
Your eyes widened. You were not expecting this man to know anything about this. You were mortified, safe to say. He had just outed you and Lando to a table full of people you were keeping your relationship the most secret from.Â
âGet out.â Your dad stood from his chair quickly, asserting dominance, and showing his power. Two people from your fatherâs side ushered the man out quickly.
You were thankful for your fatherâs actions, but also terrified of how he might react to this new drama floating around the table currently.
Whispers clouded the table: âY/N and Lando? No⊠maybe Oscar?â âYou've seen them, right?â âNo way!â
You looked at your father, as he sat back down. You wanted to explain, but he spoke first.Â
âHoney, I know he was just trying to get under your skin. I never liked him anyways.â Your father spoke, trying to comfort you. âPlus, I know you are smart, and you and that Mclaren boyâs relationship is nothing but friendly business.â
Instead of fighting him, you let him believe that lie. âYes. Yes, just friendly business, Father.â
He smiled with agreement and went back to the dinner.Â
Your mind was still reeling with the events. Hopefully everyone else believes the same thing as your father. Hopefully no one knew the truth: that your's and Landoâs relationship was anything but professional or business-like.
The dinner had reached its end very soon after that altercation. Now, you and your family were pulling up to the hotel. As soon as you stepped out of the limo, you caught sight of a familiar body standing near you.
âSorry.â you heard Lando speak up, facing your father. âI was wondering if I could speak to Y/n.â Lando asked very confidently, like he his request was nothing out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, your father looked at Lando with one of the most intimidating frowns youâve ever seen.Â
You touched your fatherâs arm lightly, signaling that he could trust you. So, your father let you go, reluctantly, but he trusted you. Maybe he shouldnât.Â
Lando waited until you were out of sight from your family, around a corridor, when he grabbed your hand and dragged you into a nearby room. You canât say you didnât expect this.
âLando- what?â You tried to reason that your family could be waiting but Lando cut you off fast.Â
His lips met yours with force and determination. You let whatever you were going to say die into a small moan against his mouth.Â
Your mind was running again with scary thoughts of your father catching you two, or maybe even Landoâs boss. However, those thoughts instantly fizzled away when Lando slipped his arm around your waist, bringing your bodies close.
You were flush against each other, sharing body heat. Lando being so close was the exact remedy to any and all anxiety-inducing thoughts. You were this close before, sure, but this time felt so much more intimate.
Itâs almost like the tension had built up from the dinner, and this small feeling of body-near-body made that dam break. Now tension and lust were washing over the two of you in a tidal wave.Â
However strong your feelings for Lando were building, his are easily doubled.
Lando has been waiting to touch again ever since last night. The insatiable need to be near you, feel your body, hear those whispering noises you make when you kiss, was incredible. If it wasnât irrational, he could have pulled you away during the dinner. Recently, that line between rational and irrational has been blurring more and more every time heâs near you.
He, of course, got the same warning as you about workplace relationships. Actually, he was basically threatened and scolded, because Zak couldnât trust him as far as he could throw him when it comes to romantic relationships. Or keeping anything professional.Â
He knows how worried you are about your business, and what bad publicity could do to itâs reputation. So, despite how bad he wants to ignore the warnings, he goes along with it to keep you safe.
In general, the entire relationship is just a god-awful idea. You should have stopped as soon as it started, but after last nightâŠ
Maybe the dangerâs covered by the thrill,
âCause I know I should be running for the hills.
The way you touch meâŠ
You tilted your head up slightly, deepening the kiss. He felt your submission and licked a stripe across your bottom lip.
Anytime you two have been intimate, kissing has been a key part. At first you were disappointed when Lando kept teasing your lips instead of your body, but the longer you kissed him, the more you never wanted to stop. Lando was a phenomenal kisser, and he knew that.Â
The kiss moved from soft to hot and frenzied. You felt his tongue trace along the seam of your lips, begging for entry. You let him in and he quickly dominated your mouth. Anything Lando did with the kiss was insanely sexy, like he knew he could do no wrong.
You broke away, hoping to only catch your breath and go back to his lips, but he pulled away.
âWait, Y/n. Listen, Iâm sorry. I know how us being seen together could create a whole lot of shitâŠâ He was silent for a bit. His words brought back the anxiety pounding in your mind.
You were worried he was rejecting you, but his next words were unexpected.Â
âBut, god, Y/N. I need you. I couldnât fucking care less about your fatherâs rules or the media. I know we should stop. Trust me, Iâve tried mentally slapping myself anytime I think about you.â He started moving back to kiss you. âBut no matter how hard I try to stay away, you keep pulling me back in.â He said the last part against your lips.Â
All you could do was breathe harder. Of course you agreed with him, but no words were coming out of your mouth. You wanted to spill all of your feelings just as he did, but your thoughts were just fog at the moment. Perhaps, if youâd actually even said anything, it wouldnât be comprehensive at all.
So instead you settled by pulling him closer by his tie and smiling. He must have gotten the hint because he dove back into the kiss.Â
After you both finally express your feelings, nothing should come between your relationship anymore right?Â
Except, like it was described at the beginning, this is much more complicated.Â
Days later, you still werenât dating. Actually, you didnât know if you would ever date Lando.Â
Either way, again and again, you still meet up in dark corridors and hotel rooms.Â
âI need you, Y/N.â Lando told you after you tried to end it out of worry that youâd be caught.
âLandoâŠâ However hard you tried to stop seeing him, your body fought against you. âAlright, but we need to be especially quiet. PleaseâŠâ
Donât tease me, and keep me around like itâs easy,
When you know deep down that itâs
Never gonna ever be us.
You were like magnets that could never be apart for too long. No, you were never going to be able to publicly date, and this secret partners-with-benefits ordeal was insanely risky. But, like a hobby that turns into an obsession, or a flame that turns into a bonfire: A little taste was never enough.Â
I get obsessive with you.
All that I want is attention from you
Break into my life and break all my rules, it's trueâŠ
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ooooh. A prompt. Maybe Tommy could use some TLC. Some hurt/comfort?
tags: mentions of past physical and verbal abuse, also first I love you's
Just take those old records off the shelf, I'll sit and listen to 'em by myself
It was a little bit jarring when he first heard it. He'd been coming to this bar for years now and this song had never played before.
Today's music ain't got the same soul, I like that old time rock 'n' roll
He could already feel a thin layer of sweat above his lip. His hands were clammy almost instantly. His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest.
And he was stuck in the booth, wedged between Buck and Chimney. Everyone was there. Hen, Karen, Bobby, Athena, Maddie, Eddie, Ravi. They were all celebrating Bobby getting reinstated as captain of the 118.
Don't try to take me to a disco, you'll never even get me out on the floor
He needed to get up. It was too hot. Buck was right up against his side, hand on his thigh, and if he moved closer to Chimney they'd practically hit second base.
In ten minutes I'll be late for the door, I like that old time rock 'n' roll
âNeed'a gotothe bathroom,â Tommy mumbled out in whisper to Buck. He wasn't drunk. They'd only been there half an hour and he had just finished his first beer. But the song was completely throwing him off.
Still like that old time rock 'n' roll, that kind of music just soothes the soul
Buck looked at him, confused, squeezed his thigh in a way that would usually be sweet but right now felt like too much. âWhat?â he asked, leaning in closer.
âBathroom,â he repeated, clearer this time.
I reminisce about the days of old, with that old time rock 'n' roll
âOh, okay.â Buck scooted out of the booth and Tommy managed to get out without banging his knees on the table. âYou okay?â Buck asked, reaching down for his hand and giving it a squeeze. âYou're pale.â
He felt like throwing up. Tommy unwrapped his hand from Buck far too quickly for him to not suspect anything, he knew that, but he couldn't help it right now. âFine,â he managed with a forced smile.
Won't go to hear 'em play a tango, I'd rather hear some blues or funky old soul
He headed for the bathroom, but took a left instead of a right, opting to head outside instead.
Buck glanced back at everyone at the table, who all looked confused. Tommy's abrupt shift in mood was impossible not to notice.
âI'm guessing he knows he didn't just go to the bathroom?â Eddie questioned.
Buck sighed, tossed a few dollars on the table. âI'm gonna go check on him.â
When Buck got outside it took him a minute to spot Tommy. He was a few feet away from the door, swaying slightly from side to side with his hands in his pockets, staring out into the parking lot.
Buck walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, retracting it quickly when Tommy jumped at the touch.
âSorry,â Buck said, startled.
Tommy closed his eyes once he saw it was Buck, letting out a deep breath. âNo, Evan, I... Sorry, I was in my own world.â
âS'okay. Are you okay?â
Tommy let out a humorless laugh, his gaze falling down to his feet as he kicked at some rocks with his shoe. âUm, I'm a little embarrassed, actually,â he admitted.
âWhat for?â
âThe song playing in there,â he said, turning back toward the bar, âit reminded me of a... a not so great memory.â
âWanna talk about it?â
His eyes met Evan's and all he could see was concern. Tommy knew he wasn't asking because he felt like he had to, or because he thought it was what Tommy expected of him. He was asking because he was genuinely worried, and wanted to be there for him.
âYou wanna go sit in the back of my truck?â Tommy asked. He could still hear a slight beat from music inside the bar and, while he was sure they weren't still playing that same song, it's the only thing he could think about when he heard any music at all.
Buck nodded. âYeah, let's go.â
When they got to the truck, Tommy lowered the tailgate and they both hopped up, their legs dangling over the edge.
Buck stared up at the sky, stars a little more visible in their location than anywhere else in Los Angeles. He waited for Tommy to speak, not wanting to pressure him.
The feeling of Tommy's hand slipping into his brought his attention back to Tommy. Their fingers intertwined, but Buck didn't squeeze too hard. He didn't want to scare him again.
âI haven't really ever told you very much about my dad, have I?â
âLittle pieces here and there,â Buck replied. âYou said a few months back that he was a lot like Gerrard, and mentioned you haven't spoken to him in ten years.â
Tommy nodded. âBoth things are true. He was... There was more to him than that though. He was not a good man, Evan. He'd go to church every time the doors were open, smile on his face, mom and me by his side. The perfect family. That's what everyone told us anyway.â
He scooted closer to Buck, placing their hands on his thigh. He took his free hand and rubbed it gently over Buck's knuckles, finding comfort in his boyfriend's touch. âThen we'd get home, and lunch or dinner wouldn't be ready on time, or the roast would be overcooked, or he saw me yawn during the service, or he thought mom smiled at the youth pastor for too long and-â Tommy's voice broke as he spoke. He cleared his throat, trying to keep it together.
All Buck wanted to do was wrap him up tight and make all his pain disappear.
â-and God, Evan, he'd get so angry. He'd get out his records and we knew, if he played one specific song, one of us was about to get it.â
It all clicked. âThe song in the bar."
Tommy nodded. âThe song in the bar.â
âWould he,â Buck paused, choosing his words carefully. âDid he hit you?â
âNot with his hands,â Tommy replied, âand never on the face. But he was a big believer in 'spare the rod, spoil the child'. He liked to use his belt.â He felt a phantom pain on his back, from lashes so painful he'd have to lean forward the whole time during the next church service. How it would hurt to sit down at school, often for days. How the belt would sometimes whack against his thigh and he'd have to wear pants for PE, even during the hottest months of the year, just so his shorts wouldn't ride up and someone see the marks. âIt wasn't just physical stuff though,â Tommy added. âThe things he'd say were worse, somehow. He'd call my mom every name in the book, shout slurs at me before I even thought I was gay. Tell us how worthless we were. Stuff like that. Then, by the next service, there were were, front and center. The perfect family.â
âTommy, I- I don't even know what to say. I'm so sorry you went through that.â
âI'm okay,â he said, then huffed out a laugh, âexcept when I hear that song, apparently.â
âTriggers are funny like that, aren't they?â
âYeah,â he rolled his eyes, âa real hoot.â
Buck let go of Tommy's hand just long enough to wrap his arms around him, letting Tommy rest his head on his shoulder. Buck pressed a kiss to the top of his head. âWhy don't we go to my place?â he suggested. âPut on a movie, eat a pint of ice cream.â
âWe're supposed to be celebrating tonight, Evan.â
âWe will be celebrating,â Buck assured him. âWe'll be celebrating survival. Celebrating us. Celebrating, I don't know,â he laughed, âwe'll think of something.â
Tommy raised his head just enough to look into Buck's eyes. âLove?â
Buck stared back, a smile growing on his face. âLove. Yeah, that, um, that sounds perfect.â
âOkay,â Tommy relented easily. He didn't feel like going back inside anyway. âYou sure you don't wanna go back in? You can get a ride home with Eddie.â
âTommy, I want to be with you. Everyone in there will understand. I'll send Eddie a text, tell him we're headed out. You pick the movie.â
They untangled themselves from each other so Buck could get his phone.
Tommy thought for a moment. âThe Notebook, maybe? I feel like crying.â
He'd never been in a relationship before where he could admit something like that. Admit that sometimes he wanted to cry, needed to cry, and a movie could help him with that.
Evan was different though. Evan was safety. Evan was a person Tommy could talk to about anything, and never feel judgement.
âThe Notebook is perfect. I'll order ice cream to be delivered while we're on the way.â
They got off the back of the truck and Tommy raised the tailgate. Before Buck could head for the passenger seat, Tommy placed a hand on his hip, spinning Buck back in his direction.
âI really do love you, Evan,â he said, his thumbs stroking at Buck's hipbone.
Buck reached up and rested his hands at the nape of Tommy's neck, pulling him in for a kiss. âI really do love you too, Tommy.â
As they got into the truck, Buck made a mental note to contact the bar tomorrow and ask them to change their playlist.
#bucktommy#911#tommy kinard#evan buckley#will it ever take me under an hour to write a prompt? we may never know#prompt
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"Like A Virgin"
Steven Grant x Fem!Reader/Jake Lockley x Fem!Reader/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader
Read Part 2 HERE
Read Part 3 HERE
Read Part 4 HERE
SUMMARY: Steven Grant has come to the devastating conclusion that he was fated to be single forever. Marc didn't care for romance, Jake was only interested in one-night stands, and Steven was--well...Steven.
But when you started working alongside him at the museum's gift shop--a pretty girl younger than him with a bright smile and a cloying kindness he hasn't been the recipient of in a long time--he begins to think that maybe romance is in the cards for him.
Especially when you are just as awkward as him and sinfully lovely.
AKA "the man without love" falls for "the virgin".
RATING: 18+ minors please do NOT interact!!! This fic will contain romance, smut, and generally mature content (though not ALL parts will have explicit smut).
NOTES: I recently rewatched Moon Knight and have been in the mood to write my own fic after reading countless of amazing ones on here, then outta the blue Madonna's song Like A Virgin got stuck in my head and it got me thinking "Huh... This song is cute for Steven if he gets a girlfriend. ACTUALLY WAIT A DAMN MINUTE IT COULD FIT ALL THE MOON KNIGHT BOYS"
And so... Tada! Here's le result~ Although I'm still working out the details, this fic will have âšïž6 PARTSâšïž This fic will PROBABLY be quite self-indulgent, and at times the way the reader is written could be a bit similar to an OC. I'm so sorry if that is the case, but please understand that I'm writing this for fun and I'm just going with the flow!
Some things will also be different from the show. For example, all the boys are actually aware of each other in this fic. I try to stick as close as possible to the source material, but hey this is my fic and like I said I just wanna have fun đ
Thank you sooo much and I sincerely hope you enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are STRONGLY encouraged and appreciated so please don't be a silent reader!
Now... Join me as I hopelessly thirst over this RIDICULOUSLY gorgeous man both in fiction AND reality \(^o^)/
Part 1: Didn't know how lost I was until I found you
Steven willed his legs to go faster, pushing through London's usual busy morning crowd and into the museum he was cursed to work at. Clutching his bag in one hand, and the other holding his small thermos of coffee as he prayed to any Egyptian god listening that Donna wouldn't catch him this time.
But, of course, the only Egyptian god within Steven's vicinity was Khonshu. And the old bird only cared about how his Moon Knight was upholding his duties as his "Fist of Vengeance", not of his Avatar's petty human responsibilities such as "keeping a job".
"Late again, eh, Stevie?" Donna's annoying voice mocked Steven, pausing in his tracks as he sighed deeply and begrudgingly turned towards his boss.
"Sorry, Donna." He shot the blonde a forced smile, his grip on his thermos tightening. "Got stuck in traffic. You know how it is, yeah?"
"I wouldn't because unlike you, Stevie, I'm never late." Donna returned his fake smile along with a roll of her eyes. "Anyway, enough chatter. You've got someone working with you at the gift shop from now on. Maybe this way you won't be late, yeah? Teach her how to actually sell some bloody candy."
Steven opened his mouth to retort, but was quickly cut off when his new co-worker--you--stepped out from behind Donna. You were younger than him, around your twenties, and you were such a shy little thing with your head slightly ducked down. Your E/C eyes peeked out from behind the glasses framing your delicate features, long lashes fluttering as you flashed him a sweet smile. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the pink midi skirt you wore, matching the dainty pink ribbons that tied your H/C hair in two low pigtails.
Your smile faltered as your gaze met Steven's dark brown ones. He remained silent, mouth hanging agape as he stared at you as if you grew two heads. Your eyes lowered, heart threatening to burst right out of your poor chest.
Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should've ditched the ribbons, you looked ridiculous, right? Why was he staring at you? Oh, god, why was such a HOT guy staring at you?!
"Hello, uh, I'm Steven Grant." Your head snapped up, witnessing the twist of Steven's lips into a kind albeit awkward smile that accompanied a friendly little wave. "Steven..." He seemed to be rethinking his words before, ultimately, the dorky side of him won. "...with a V."
A smile once again bloomed across your face, feeling more at ease this time. "Hi, I'm Y/N L/N. With anxiety!" You chirped the latter a little too cheerfully, a light blush dusting your cheeks as you inwardly slapped yourself. No, punched yourself. "O-Oh, uh, I-I didn't mean that! I-I mean, no, it was just a joke--but a really BAD one, oh god--"
As you rambled nonsensically, Donna arched a judgmental brow at you before noticing the utterly smitten expression on Steven's face as he watched you with a huge goofy grin. Now both of Donna's eyebrows were raised to her hairline before she slowly backed away, leaving you two to fend for yourselves.
At least this time, though, Steven wouldn't be late anymore.
'She's so...'
'Weird.' Marc piped up in Steven's head.
'Amusing.' Jake snickered.
'...lovely.' Steven finished, eyes gleaming the same way it does for Egyptology as he continued to look at you as if you hung the moon in the sky.
He adored you instantly.
âĄâąâąâąđâąâąâąâĄ
It's been two months since you started working at the museum's gift shop. During that time, you and Steven got closer. He discovered that you were a college dropout, reaching a stressful breaking point one day and deciding to just work for the meantime before figuring the rest of your life out. And as it turns out, you weren't so shy after all; once you were out your shell, you were just as big of a dork as Steven was and whenever you two were together, your shift passed by quickly--too quickly.
From the very first moment, you and Steven got along splendidly. He was a complete sweetheart and it always shattered your heart whenever Donna harassed him with any snarky and insensitive remarks.
Steven was used to it so he didn't mind it too much. What he wasn't used to, though, was you. You who was always so kind, lending a listening ear whenever he went on a passionate tangent regarding Egypt and even encouraging him on his dream of becoming the museum's tour guide. You who always graced him with a genuine smile that reached your ears, eyes sparkling whenever you see him as if he was your favourite art piece in the entire museum.
You who always made his heart race, palms sweaty, mind swirling without fail.
You had an intense crush on Steven--a longing, really--but what you didn't know was that he felt the same about you. But perhaps it was more than that. He practically worshipped the ground you walked on, and it certainly didn't miss Donna's unexpectedly sharp eyes. She'd tease him whenever you left earlier than him, looking like a kicked little puppy as his gaze trailed after you.
Today was no different as he stared helplessly at you, and it was a wonder you didn't feel the invisible daggers boring into you. There were only ten minutes left before you were done for the day and you both were stuck in inventory, but for once in his life he loved doing inventory and he desperately wished that this incredible moment with you, alone, would last forever.
'You're so fucking pathetic, ese.' Jake echoed in Steven's mind.
Nowadays Jake was becoming more vocal, at least when you're around. Marc, on the other hand, remained tight-lipped. The mercenary would much rather have absolutely nothing to do with you at all costs.
'Shut up, mate.' Steven silently argued, brows furrowing as his eyes finally broke away from you and focused on organizing some Taweret plushies.
'Only saying the truth, ese. You've got her all to yourself and the only thing you can think of is that you wish this time would last forever?' Jake scoffed. 'Be a man and step the fuck up. You know you want to, especially with the way she looks today.'
Steven's burning gaze was right back on you, eyes darkening slightly. He hated to admit it, but Jake was right. You were always so pretty, but something about today made you look that much more.
You always dressed modestly, but with the weather warming up lately you opted for a black pleated skirt that fell just above your knees and a tucked in short sleeved yellow blouse with the top few buttons undone exposing the tiniest bit of your cleavage. You also wore matching yellow heels that perfectly accentuated your legs and it made him feral.
"Steven? Are you okay?"
His eyes met yours and a smile instantly curled up his lips, nodding his head as if he wasn't just ogling you like a total perv. "Yes, I just zoned out. Sorry, love." Ugh, the way he called you 'love' so casually had you swooning.
If only he actually meant it.
You nodded back, shoving your thoughts away and returning his smile before glancing towards a portrait. "A shame what they did to this, huh?"
Steven curiously followed your line of sight, seeing a portrait of the Ennead.
"Whoever did this made a major blunder. Isn't the Ennead supposed to have nine gods, not seven?"
"YES!" You flinched slightly at Steven's exclamation, whipping your head towards him only to see him with the cutest blush ever.
"Erm, s-sorry, uh..." Steven cleared his throat, sheepishly running a hand through his unruly locks. "I just got excited. I'm surprised you knew that. Not a lot of people do--or care."
"Well, I happen to know a fantastic teacher always talking about Egyptology." You giggled, grinning at him. "And thanks to him, he's caused me to become interested in it myself and do my own research."
"Really?!" The way his eyes lit up felt as if an arrow was shot straight to your heart, and if you didn't have any self-control you would've dropped to your knees and asked--begged--this gorgeous man to marry you right then and there. "Any particular god or goddess that you're most interested in?"
"Hmm..." You pursed your lips thoughtfully, and Steven had half a mind to kiss them senseless. "I'd have to say Khonshu."
'GOOD ANSWER. KEEP HER, WORM.' Khonshu's thundering voice suddenly boomed in Steven's head.
"She's not a dog, you stupid pigeon." Steven grumbled, rubbing his temples exasperatedly.
"Hm? Did you say something?"
"Nothing!" Steven answered quickly, forcing out a laugh. "Err, why Khonshu?"
"Well, I really like Astronomy!" You beamed. "And I find the moon to be one of the most beautiful things in our universe, so it feels fitting for my favourite Egyptian god to be Khonshu."
Despite Steven's distaste (to put it nicely) for the old bird, he could never find your response as such. Not when you looked so happy and comfortable sharing your interests with him, even though he did disagree with just one thing you said.
The moon doesn't even come close to being one of the most beautiful things this universe boasts. No, not when you existed.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!
The alarm on your wristwatch cruelly popped the blissful little bubble you both were in, you turning it off as you saw that it was the end of your shift.
A regular person would be over the moon that they were finally free from their corporate prison, but not you. Not when you wished you could spend more time with Steven.
"Well..." Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, a pout forming on your lips. "Guess it's time for me to go home."
"It appears so..." Steven mumbled, his heart sinking to his stomach as he watched you put away the remaining items you were in charge of.
'It's now or never, Steven. Do something.' Jake urged.
'Do WHAT?'
'Fucking Christ, you're hopeless.' Jake sighed frustratedly, Steven's eyes rolling to the back of his head and his shoulders slumping. After a few seconds, he straightened up once more and approached you.
You were faced away from Steven, and you were having difficulty setting the final box of souvenirs you had on a shelf when Steven's hands reached from behind you and easily lifted them.
Your breath hitched, feeling his broad chest pressed against your back. He was so close you could feel his warm breath tickling the nape of your neck, making you gulp.
"T-Thank you, Steven..." You murmured meekly, feeling so small as he had you completely caged. You tried to turn, but his hands suddenly dropped to your hips; keeping you in place with a gentle but firm grip.
"You look so pretty today, Y/N." He leaned down, voice deliciously low as his lips ghosted just beneath your ear and a shiver ran down your spine. "But I think you can look even prettier. How 'bout tomorrow you dress all nice, and we can meet up around seven p.m. and have the best steak in town?"
Your thoughts were all jumbled up. Was this really happening or just another one of your silly fantasies? Where the hell did Steven get this sudden confidence from?
And, perhaps you were just imagining it, but he sounded...different. Not quite like the Steven you knew. He had an accent, but not the one you've gotten so familiar with and loved.
But the ache in your heart--and another part of you--was much too strong to bear. You've waited so long for this, dreamt of this, and it was finally coming true.
You definitely made the right decision to dress the way you did today and you sure as hell weren't going to let go of such a grand opportunity.
"I-I'd love to, but..." You placed your hands on top of his own still on your hips, and you wondered if he can tell just how embarrassingly sweaty your palms have gotten. "I...I know you're a vegan, Steven, so let's go somewhere else. There's a new restaurant that just opened and they've got vegan options. Um, y'know, if it's okay with you..."
The corners of his mouth tugged up into a smile and he couldn't stop himself as he nuzzled his face against the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply and revelling in your addicting scent.
"Perfect." He then spun you both around so that his back was against the shelf, but you still couldn't see him. His fingers slowly, teasingly trailed upwards along your stomach before reaching your blouse's breast pocket, slipping off your name tag and putting it in one of your hands. "I'll see you tomorrow, hermosa." He chuckled huskily, giving you a light push.
You were utterly dazed, cheeks flushed and stumbling in your steps slightly as you exited the room.
'What the bloody hell was THAT?!' Steven panicked.
"What do you think, ese?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes. "I just scored you a date."
'Well, I hope you're happy! Y/N looked so shocked!'
"I feel like a million dollars and Y/N looked like she liked it." Jake snickered. "Quit whining like a bitch and just be grateful, Steven. And hey, she even chose some hippie vegan place for you. Doesn't that prove she's into you?"
That immediately shushed Steven, and Jake can feel that despite Steven's complaining Steven was very much overjoyed and was already overthinking the date for tomorrow.
Jake looked down his hands, still remembering the soft curve of your hips even through your clothes and smirked.
You won't be wearing any for long now.
#Moon Knight#Moon Knight Smut#Steven Grant#Jake Lockley#Marc Spector#Steven Grant Smut#Jake Lockley Smut#Marc Spector Smut#Steven Grant x Reader#Jake Lockley x Reader#Marc Spector x Reader#Steven Grant x Reader Smut#Jake Lockley x Reader Smut#Marc Spector x Reader Smut#Reader x Steven Grant#Reader x Jake Lockley#Reader x Marc Spector#Reader x Steven Grant Smut#Reader x Jake Lockley Smut#Reader x Marc Spector Smut#Oscar Isaac
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Dirty Metal Summer
a Dirty Dancing au
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
Eddie x fem!Reader
MASTERLIST PLAYLIST
It's 1987, the same year the movie Dirty Dancing was originally released. 21-year-old reader is spending the summer with her dad and aunt at an all-inclusive resort in Indiana while she figures out what she wants to do with her life. After that summer, nothing will never be the same. Eddie is in his late 20âs and works as maintenance staff, he is also the frontman for the house band, begrudgingly delivering top 40 hits for the guests, and a secret third thing. When work is over, there is a completely different scene happening at a place the employees call The Hideout. Wayne is the head maintenance man, Chrissy is a metalhead, and a few other surprises. Bonus: Steve as a sexy, tattooed musician because I can't help myself.
my blog is always 18+only, MDNI please. The only warnings for the first chapter have to do with mention of a death of a parent, mention of grief, allusions to depression, a tiny bit of aggression, and alcohol consumption. But please read chapter warnings as the story progresses, because there will be angst, hurt/comfort, violence (fighting), and smut. Reader is called Bird as a nickname.
A/N: this is a rewrite of an OC fic I wrote over a year ago, and damn, I really needed to change a lot because my writing has evolved so much. I know I posted a snippet last week, but it's all been changed. Thank you to those who have been excited about this, I know Dirty Dancing is a cherished film, so I am treating this retelling with reverence, while adding some creative spins, and I truly hope you enjoy. The ST characters in this fic do not know each other in the same way they did in the show. For instance, Eddie, Steve, and Chrissy all grew up together, but I do my best to stick with their original character traits. This first part lines up very close with the film, but after that, it diverges and becomes a bit different. Same story line, but also not.
Part 1: Big Girls Don't Cry
word count: 6.3k
The soft murmur of a talk radio station hummed in the cement gray Mercedes-Benz 560, with your dad behind the wheel and his sister, your aunt Kim, in the passenger seat. From the backseat, you stared out the window with your headphones on, wishing for rain. The scenery was what you would expect from a place on earth that everyone considered idyllic, but youâd been exposed to so much lush greenery with that bright blue, theater backdrop of a sky for the last hour that you were starting to get a headache.Â
You pushed your wayfarer sunglasses up to rub the bridge of your nose, and then flipped the tape over in your Walkman before clicking it shut to press play. You were listening to a mixtape youâd made especially for the trip, the spine even said âroad trip from hellâ, but the first one on side b was Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac, and you closed your eyes for the next several songs. You were doing your best not to think about how youâd be trapped in BFE Indiana for a whole month.
You were also doing your best not to think about how your mother would not be home when you got back, or worse yet, the fact that you would never see her again. Never feel her generous hugs in those Laura Ashley dresses, smelling of Shalimar; never hear her voice at the other end of the line reminding you to eat something. Â
Your aunt said your name and your eyes snapped open. It was perfect timing because tears were beginning to form at your lash line. She had turned around in her seat and was trying to get your attention.
You pulled your headphones down around your neck. âSorry?â
âThe lake,â the expression on her face harbored more excitement than youâd ever felt in your entire life. âIsnât it gorgeous? Weâre going to get pedicures at the spa tomorrow, I already booked it.â
You glanced at your fatherâs stoic profile and then back to Kim. You felt bad for your aunt, getting stuck on a trip with two sad, mopey fucks who were too depressed to get excited about the things that thrilled normal people. You were the walking wounded.
âPedicures, great,â your smile did not reach your eyes, but she didnât seem to notice, as her enthusiasm doggedly refused to wane. Â
It had been almost four months since you lost her, and the world was still tooâŠbright. Everyone was so talkative and alive and you couldnât relate.Â
You looked out over the smooth expanse of lake that was nestled perfectly in the trees like you were in some type of miniature scale model rebuild of a town. Your aunt asked your dad, Owen, if he was still listening to the news, and when he shook his head, she changed the radio station to a golden oldies station and was satisfied with the tune Big Girls Donât Cry by Frankie Vallie.
âYouâll love this cabin, Bird,â your dad said to you as the Mercedes crested the hill and began to maneuver down to your destination on a narrow, two-lane highway flanked with towering trees. A big green and white sign welcomed them to Hawkins Landing. âThereâs a whole top floor where you can set up for your lessons.â
You turned away, back to the window, hiding the way your nose wrinkled. You thought maybe a perk of this getaway would be to have a break from practicing the cello youâd been tied to for over a decade, but no luck. Heâd been forced to give up his dream of being a musician, and now you were expected to carry the torch for him. Â
You tried to come up with one thing you did in life that was not to please someone else, or boost some idea they had about you, and couldnât come up with squat.
Besides reading. And taking long walks with music to clear your head. Those two were yours, and they could only be taken from your cold, dead, hands.
From the Hawkins Landing brochure your aunt had given you, it was clear that the property was enormous. Some 30 or 40 guest cabins scattered around, a main house that functioned as a hotel but also housed two different restaurants. A golf course, boat rentals, tennis courts, an outdoor theater, and a third restaurant situated on the water. Along with the full service spa, there were indoor and outdoor swimming pools, plus any class you could imagine wanting to take, from salsa dancing and water skiing, to chess and crochet.Â
Hawkins Landing was like a camp for adults who enjoyed alcoholic beverages.
There was a security checkpoint at the main entrance with two guards inside. The taller one with the neatly trimmed red beard recognized your father from the jacket cover on one of his many books. Thrillers mostly, horror if you squint. He nervously asked for an autograph, but Owen was very polite, adjusting his tortoise shell glass as he took the black marker that the guard was offering him. Â
After the checkpoint, it wasnât long before the road opened into an expansive rose garden with a large fountain dead center, and the big main house with its wrap-around porch just to the right. You pushed your sunglasses up to get a look at the people mingling around, getting the idea that the median age there was 45, and it was mostly families. Â
The guards had given your dad a foldout map of the property and told him to check in at the main house to get the keys to the cabin they were staying in. The car moved at a crawl at the roundabout, and then came to park where a sign announced new guest check-ins. Â
Your dad told you to sit tight while he went in to grab the keys, and your attention trailed off to a black golf cart with a white awning that wheeled in like a racecar and took position in front of the Mercedes. It sat there close to the curb, idling. You could see there was a woman behind the wheel, and she was looking straight ahead, giving you her profile. Chin length, dark gold hair, just long enough for a ponytail, and the words âHawkins Landing Staffâ written in yellow cursive on the back of her navy blue jacket. Where her sleeve was pushed up at her elbow, you noticed some type of tattooed lettering there, and her fingernails were painted black. Â
Up ahead, you caught sight of someone strolling down the sidewalk toward the car with a hand in his pocket. It was a guy with honey tipped chocolate hair styled in a pompadour with a curl that bounced at his forehead, wearing tan chinos and a maroon, button down short sleeve with the square bulge of a pack of smokes in his front pocket. A tattoo peeked out from the V of his shirt, and there was another design on his bicep. He wore a pinky ring on one hand and rolled a toothpick around in his mouth as he sidled up to the golf cart to say something to the woman driving it. They bumped knuckles and talked for a bit like they were very familiar, him with one foot up on the running board of the cart.
âSteve, there you are,â from the open window, your attention bounced to a short, dark haired woman whoâd just come out of the building and stood alongside your dad on the sidewalk. A closer look told you that her name tag said Joyce. Â
The guy with the toothpick in his mouth straightened, smoothing the front of his shirt with his hand. âHey Joyce, I was justââ
Apparently uninterested in what he was about to say, she took him by the crook of the arm. She introduced you all by your family name, and let him know that you were âher special guestsâ, and you assumed that had to do with your dad being a famous author, or maybe she said that about every new family. While you chose to not do much else than offer a small wave from the back seat like you had no autonomy, Kim got out to greet them properly.
âThis is Steve,â Joyce gestured to him with a Vanna White hand. âIf you ever want to take guitar lessons this summer, heâs one of our best.â
âOr, if you just want to have some fun,â Steveâs eyes seemed to be searching Kimâs face, and then he shrugged. âI mean, I run the boats on the dock too, so if you want to ski orââ
Kim got flustered and tried to find her words, fussing with the lapel of her corduroy jacket in a way youâd never witnessed before. âIâmâŠI mean, sure, who wouldnât want to be on the lake at a place like this?â
Kim hated boats and got seasick very easily, so you found her new interest amusing. Â Â
Joyce politely waved Steve off and he went, albeit reluctantly, backing up with slow steps to wave farewell. The smile stretching across his face grew wider the longer Kim couldnât take her eyes off of him. When he was finally jogging up the sidewalk to get to where he needed to be, Joyce continued to try and sell Kim and your dad on the resort, even though you were already booked for the month.Â
âSunday night is Bingo night. Thereâs karaoke in The Antler Room on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and you need to check out our house band if you can. Theyâre playing tonight on the back patio, and the rhythm guitar is sensational. She used to perform with Vixen and Lita Ford,â she handed over the necessary keys and pointed the way to get to the cabin on the map. Â
âJust follow us,â Joyce said, hopping into the golf cart next to the girl with the forearm tattoo. Â
They led the way down a long, winding stretch with lush lawn and manicured hedges on either side, littered with people coming up from the pool in their bathing suits. There appeared to be a Tai Chi lesson happening on the lawn near the rose garden, and some type of painting class going on just above them on a balcony. Â
Made you wonder why summer people always had to stay so busy.
The cabin youâd be staying in was down a side road, tucked at the end of a private driveway with a view of the lake. It had five bedrooms, which was more than enough, but one of them would immediately turn into Owenâs writing room so that he could work on his latest novel. Â
You were careful to tuck your Walkman into your bag as the Mercedes coasted into its parking spot. Squinting up at the place, you were somewhat distracted by how much you liked the creepy, old feel of the whitewashed cabin, and you underestimated how far from the curb you were when you stepped out, stumbling to the side. Â
The girl with the forearm tattoo caught you in both arms, preventing you from putting all of your weight on your twisted ankle.
âWhoa,â she moved her supportive grip from your waist to your elbow as you righted yourself. âYou okay?â
Your heart shot into your throat, and then you coughed a laugh, covering your face. âWhat a way to start the summer.â
She said her name was Robin, and there was a polite handshake exchange. She tripped over her words a bit. âItâs not every day that someone falls for me.â
âWell, Iâm pretty clumsy, you might need to stay close,â and the two of you shared a self-conscious laugh as you led the way to the trunk full of baggage. Â
When you reached in to grab your suitcase, Robin teased, âhey, thatâs my job,â before leaning further in to take the oddly shaped black hard case, the satin of her jacket skimming your arm. She struggled with it at first, but then held it up by the handle and gave you a sideways look.
âThis yours?â She asked, cocking one eyebrow up. âYouâre a musician?â
âNo, well, yes I am but no I, I play the cello,â you stammered, not sure why it was hard to get the words out. âBut here, I can carry that. Itâs big and heavy andââ
Robin winked. âI got it,â and then she snatched another suitcase with the other hand and shuffled by you to make her way up to the porch. Â
Once you were all settled inside and Joyce had explained all of the amenities, you and Kim pushed back the curtains and watched the two go from the living room window. Just before they took off in the cart, Robin sent you a wave.
âShe looks like a nice girl,â Kim had her arms folded over her chest. âMaybe the two of you couldââ
âI know youâre worried about me, okay, but I donât need to make any friends this summer,â you were holding the case for your cello in front of you with both hands, using it as a metaphorical barrier. âI like being alone.â
By the time you put your stuff away in the bedroom youâd be staying in, your dad was already typing away in his writing room, you could hear the keys of his Selectric click-clacking. Â
âIâll be back in a bit,â you called across the rustic but spacious cabin living room. âIâm going to look around the main house.â
Kim barely caught your words as she was struggling with her glasses to read an ingredient label as she put some dry goods away in the kitchen. âMhmm sounds good, have fun. Be back in time for dinner, we have reservations atâŠwhatever that place is called. Your dad knows.â
You tapped the Swatch on your wrist and gave an absent wave over your shoulder.
With your headphones on, you made your way down to the main sidewalk that split off in two directions, bordering either side of the swimming pool and tennis courts. You found the bike path that wound down along the lake to the boat dock, and then up into a lush pocket of dense forest. Two teenage girls on rollerblades almost crashed into you as they bolted around the bend, giggling. Trying to decide if you wanted to go toward the water or into the woods, you watched a staff member veer off onto an uneven stone pathway and your curiosity was piqued.
Creeping along in their wake, you marched up a hill for what felt like forever, with Bring on the Dancing Horses by Echo and the Bunnymen playing in your ears, until you realized with a start that youâd already arrived at the main building. It loomed up ahead like a mansion from some old gothic romance novel.Â
You continued to plod your way along the trunks of trees, until you spotted a group having a chat on the wide porch, and took a few steps back.
They were all leaning against the railing in a semicircle, facing each other, so that you could see the Hawkins Landing Staff on the back of a few of their navy jackets. Â
One of them was Steve from earlier, next to him was a girl with a blonde ponytail, and then two others. Â
âI met that author guy today,â Steve took a drag and then blew the smoke up in the air, away from everyoneâs face. âThe one who wrote Darkness on the Hill, that one they made into a movie.â
You realized that it was your dad he was talking about.Â
Not looking where you were stepping, you caught your toe on a tree root and your arms windmilled before you were able to find your balance, floundering to duck behind another tree. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, trying not to gasp at the pain in your foot. Grimacing, you turned the volume down on the headphones that were around your neck to better hear what they were saying.
âThat actor from that one show about law and order is staying in cabin 8,â the girl with the ponytail said. âHousekeeping says he finishes a bottle of whiskey a night.â
But then, there was another voice. âNow that sounds like a great fucking vacation to me,â followed by the heavy footfalls of boots on wood as a new person approached the group.
The sight of the new arrival made you feel like your brain was wiped cleanâ-the whole world came to a screeching halt.
Swallowing hard, all of your attention tunneled on him; his long dark hair with bangs that crowded his eyes, a thin but muscular build, tattoos scattered over his exposed arms, and a leather jacket hooked over his shoulder with one finger. He combed a hand through his hair as he walked, chunky metal rings catching the light, and headed over to the blonde girl. You took note of every movement as she passed him her half-smoked cig and he gave her a quick kiss on the temple. Â
Was that his girlfriend?
He stepped back to introduce the younger guy he had with him. âThis Jamie, my new maintenance trainee,â he used the hand holding his smoke to point to each one on the balcony individually. You really didnât pay attention until he got to the blonde one. â...that one there is the lovely Chrissy, and the moody one with the hairy chest is Steve. Theyâre the other musicians I told you about.â
Jamie had short black, curly hair and a hoop piercing in one ear. He lit his own smoke while the metalhead started in with a story about a pump exploding at the pool house, complete with wild hand gestures. Â
âHey, there the fuck you are. Iâve been looking everywhere for you losers.â
Another voice, another person making their way down the long stretch of squeaky wood planks from the front of the building. You stepped closer, snapping a twig under your foot, eliciting a worried lip bite.
Everyone stayed right where they were, but for Eddie who moved in front of Jamie in a protective way. The guy approaching at a stroll had very nondescript good looks with his wheat blonde hair in a tight cut that looked freshly trimmed. While the others were dressed more casually, this one wore a white dress shirt and tie with black trousers, as if he had some fancy place to be.
âYou talking to me?â The metalhead flicked his cigarette ash and stepped forward to meet the new guy before he could come any closer to the group. âCause, if so, you might want to change your tone, precious.â
âEddie, donât,â Chrissy said, and then she stood up, addressing the guy in the suit. âJason, what the fuck do you want?â
Eddie, you moved your lips, whispering the name to yourself.  His name was Eddie. Â
Jason put his hands up in mock surrender. âWhy so hostile?â He turned to Eddie. âJoyce has been trying to find you for an hour. Thereâs a toilet backed up in one of the cabins, and trash that needs to go to the dump. Sounds to me like youâre having a hard time doing your job, Munson.â
You scuttled like a crab, moving to a spot where you could see their faces instead of the backs of their heads.
So that you could see Eddieâs face.Â
Steve checked his watch and pushed off of the railing to snub his cig out on the bottom of his shoe. âI gotta run. See you bastards at the show tonight,â he said in passing, shoving both hands into his trouser pockets. He walked right into Jason, shoulder checking him, before casually going on his way. Jason shot him an evil look.
âWell,â Eddie took a deep breath. âTell Joyce I got the message,â and then he motioned for Jamie to follow him.
âToo bad we canât take you out with the rest of the trash, freak,â Jason mumbled, loud enough for you to hear every word, and a tension crackled in the air.
The metalhead stopped dead in his tracks and drew his shoulders back. Â
When he finally turned on his heel, he wore a satisfied smirk, inclining his head, as if heâd been waiting for Jason to say something all along.Â
Chrissy moved as if she were about to go over and break up whatever was about to happen, but one of the others put a handout and stopped her. Â
âJust keep sending your laundry home to mommy, baby boy, and leave the real work to me,â Eddie said, and then he flicked the butt of his cigarette at Jasonâs face.Â
Jason moved his head just in time so that the hot cherry missed his cheek by a hair and bounced off the wall behind him, spraying sparks. Chrissy and the others snickered at how beet red Jasonâs face got, but he didnât say another word, he just waited for Eddie and Jamie to be far enough away before he went back around to the front entrance.
When the coast was clear, you stood and made your way to the path again. With a curse you realized you were going to be late for that dinner reservation, and picked up speed to a slow, sad jog.Â
You found yourself thinking that maybe being trapped at Hawkins Landing for the summer wouldnât be so bad after all.Â
â----
Your aunt Kim gave you an exasperated look when you all finally sat down for dinner, being that youâd made everyone 20 minutes late for the reservation. There didnât appear to be a single open table when you arrived, but Joyce had made sure to keep the one by the window facing the gardens open for your party. She came around to introduce the guy who was to be your waiter, and you sat up a little straighter in your seat when you realized it was Jason from earlier. The way heâd been dressed out on the porch made sense now, as his uniform was the same as all of the other waitstaff. Â
Near the end of the meal, Joyce returned to the table in her black pencil skirt and fitted jacket, but this time, she was with a guy who you could tell wanted to look like Don Johnson in Miami Vice, but it came off more as Gary from Weird Science. Â
âI'd like you to meet Troy, heâs the son of Mr. Brenner, the owner of the resort,â there was a reluctance about her, as if sheâd been forced at gunpoint to introduce him. Â
Troy stared at you with an uncomfortable intensity, making your attention fall to your plate. Â
âIâm in charge when my father isnât around,â Troy said with a smug grin, putting his hands in his white trouser pockets, and you spotted some type of metal retainer on his teeth. Â
Joyce cleared her throat, annoyed that his statement was far from true. But she recognized that it was part of her job to indulge the little shit. Â
âI just graduated with a business degree from Georgetown,â he gloated, giving you a wink. âThis place will all be mine one day.â
Your father exchanged a look with your aunt over his chocolate mousse. Â
âWell, itâs nice to know someone else your age here, isnât it, Bird? Maybe you two kids should go have some fun tonight,â Kim chirped. Â
If your aunt wasnât so far away, you wouldâve kicked her under the table.Â
Troy bent at the waist so that his face wasnât far from yours. âIâd love to show you around after dinner, if youâre interested in a tour?â
Before you could issue a vague excuse like, âsorry I canât, I have a headache,â Kim spoke for you again.
âI think thatâs a great idea,â she even clapped her hands, applauding it.Â
In the end, you went with him to make Kim happy, to get her off your back, hopefully for the rest of the trip. Â
An hour or two with a pretentious prick wouldnât hurt you.
â-------
Troy wasnât bad company, but he was quite full of himself. He had interesting stories about his extensive travels, but then he also told awkward stories that were possibly fibs about how many models heâd dated, and expanded on how he wanted to be married with two kids by the time he was 30.  Â
You, on the other hand, couldnât imagine thinking that far ahead, and he wouldnât let you get a word in edgewise. Â
You followed close behind through the huge, busy kitchen of the restaurant youâd just dined in, and he tried to hold your hand when he introduced you to the head chef, but you were sly, and pulled it away to cross your arms over your chest. He gave you a tour of the ballroom and took a stroll through the other restaurant on the opposite end of the building that had a much more relaxed feel, low lighting, red carpet, and a bar at the center. Â
You went down to the boat docks and walked along the pier. The stars were breathtaking, but Troy didnât notice, he was too busy trying to convince you to go out on his boat with him. You declined, taking a page from Kimâs book to mention a freshly born curse of violent seasickness. Â
You had your elbows on the railing at the pier, enjoying the velvet reflection of the crescent moon in the lake, and you could feel your jaw grow tense under the weight of Troyâs stare.Â
On the verge of telling him you were ready to head back to your cabin, the sound of music drifted down from somewhere on the property.Â
Yes, no mistaking, it was Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money, but it was being executed with someone elseâs voice, and whoever that person was had some serious pipes.
And then there was the distinct sound of a feminine voice chiming in with the parts from the song Be My Baby Now by the Ronettes in the chorus.
"Is that a live band?" You turned away from him to try and find the source of the music. It wasnât coming from the restaurant on the water or any of the cabins to your right. Â
"There's a cover band every Friday out behind the main house. You want to check it out?" He held the crook of his arm out to you and hesitated before you took it. His ego sufficiently stroked now that you wanted to spend more time with him.
Around the side of the building, overlooking the golf course, was a huge, fenced in back patio garden area with a private hot tub and pool for hotel guests. Troy led you through a white arbor wound with ivy to find that there were plenty of people mingling, drinking, and dancing. The area was mostly manicured lawn, with stone pathways meandering around from a concrete floor that was right in front of the small riser that was meant to be a stage. You imagined that a million weddings had taken place there.Â
At the door was a bar, and Troy got you a flute of champagne, which you downed with abandon and asked for another. While he was getting your second glass, you made your way along under several boughs of white string lights to get a view of the stage and who was performing the top tier Eddie Money cover.
Just as you stepped into the crowd of people shuffling to the beat, you stopped dead in your tracks.
There he was at the mic: Eddie the metalhead.
Guitar slug low at his hips, wearing a tuxedo with light blue cummerbund and bow tie, his hair neatly combed back and fixed into a knot at the back of his head so that you could really see the curves of his face. If you didnât know any better, youâd think he was performing the song against his will.
The rest of the band were dressed similarly, and you instantly knew the one strumming the bass guitar as Steve, and the woman on backup vocals rocking on the rhythm was Chrissy, who wore a conservative skirt and flats. There was also a keyboardist and a drummer, both of whom you did not recognize.
âWhatâs your major?â Troy asked, breaking your reverie to pass you the glass of champagne. âIn college?â
You were confused for a second but then, âoh, I took the year off toâŠfigure some things out.â The full truth of it was that you had dropped out completely and had no intention of going back. Â
âI spent a summer in Greece my freshman year,â he offered, unprovoked. âThe women there are, wow, so smoking hot.â
The song finished and Eddie took his tuxedo jacket off, rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing the scattered tattoos youâd noticed earlier. He leaned over to whisper something to Chrissy, motioned at the drummer, and then stepped back into place, brushing a loose wisp of hair off his cheek.
âFind someone special for this next one,â he told the crowd, and was answered with a rush of murmurs.
The first notes to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel, a slow song, lit up the space, and your stomach tightened, fearing that Troy would ask you to dance. As he escorted you to the floor, you tried to keep your head down and stay to the back of the crowd, but Troy kept maneuvering you closer to the stage.Â
I get so lost, sometimes
Days pass and this emptiness fills my heart
When I want to run away
I drive off in my car
But whichever way I go
I come back to the place you are
You watched the performance from over Troyâs shoulder and followed his lead, shifting from foot to foot. You were mesmerized by the muscles in Eddieâs hands as he played each note, and the way Chrissy came in like an angel on the chorus. Â
Heâd captured the attention of everyone in the garden at that moment, and there was a group of women watching him from the sidelines, whispering to each other, possibly about how they wanted to eat him alive.
They were all thinking the same thing you were: Eddie was magic. Â
He liked to close his eyes when he sang, so you werenât expecting him to be staring right at you when he opened them again. Â
All my instincts, they return
And the grand facade, so soon will burn
Without a noise, without my pride
I reach out from the inside
He wouldnât break eye contact, so you eventually had to; the intensity of it was giving you butterflies.
Troy stepped back and tried to get your attention. âDid you hear anything I just said?â
You nodded, but your gaze only drifted back to Eddie. Troy followed your line of sight and then dropped both of his hands with a frustrated cluck of his tongue.
"What the hell is he doing up there?" He hissed to himself when it dawned on him that Eddie had been behind the mic that whole time. "That's our goddamn maintenance guy. He shouldn't be up there."
In a huff, Troy pushed through the crowd and headed over to one of the other staff members against the fence. Bird could see him shouting and pointing over at the stage. Whatever the staff guy said did not seem to cheer him up a bit, and he came back to your side, shrugging his shoulders.
"I guess our normal front man Drew has the flu," he reported back. "It's just so hard to find reliable help these days."
Eddie was making the song his own, and that was what you liked about it.
âLetâs get out of here,â Troy put his hand on your lower back to escort you out. âThe music sucks.â
â--
It was 9:30 when you made it back to the main foyer, standing in the middle of the lobby next to an obnoxious floral arrangement, when Troy tried to get you to go back to his cabin and watch a movie, only to get respectfully declined.
âDonât worry about your parents,â Troy said, brushing his finger over your chin. âThey know youâre with me, so theyâre probably the happiest parents at Hawkins Landing.â
The guy had quite an ego on him, you had to give him that. It was unsurpassed by most.Â
In the end, you got away, and as soon as your Mary Janeâs hit the cobblestones outside the front door, you could feel yourself trotting at a quicker pace, eager to put some distance between you and Troy and everyone else, for that matter. You didnât stop until you were far enough away from the main hotel to be able to check over your shoulder and not see it through the trees.
It was then that you realized that you had a free chunk of time, and you could do with it whatever you wished. Your dad would think you were still with Troy, and as long as you made it back to the cabin before midnight, they wouldnât worry. Â
As much as it was the dead of summer, Indiana by the water had very cool nights, and you buttoned up the jean jacket you were wearing just as you noticed a yellow sign on a lamppost to the right that said: Staff Quarters, No Guests Allowed Beyond This Point
And that made you want to venture in even more.
You checked around to make sure there was no one there to notice that you blatantly ignored the sign, and just kept going. The path at your feet changed from stone to a well-worn dirt path through the grass, and it wasnât long before you could hear the sound of music erupting in the distance. Â
You passed by staff quarters, a few weathered red cabins with white trim, lined close together, and there were some people hanging out on their porches who gave you curious looks, but didnât seem too concerned with your presence.Â
Following the source of the music, you descended down into unknown, poorly lit territory that no longer looked like it was part of the Hawkins Landing property. Â
(song playing in the distance is Dangerous Meeting by Mercyful Fate)
It was then that you noticed a pale yellow light coming from the windows of a building up ahead. Just as the dirt path turned to gravel, you identified the music you were hearing as heavy metal, and it was bolstered by distinct shouts and cheers, even a high-pitched scream or two. Â
âHey,â a voice startled you from out of the dark and you jumped. âWhat are you going out here?â
Heart racing, you spun around to find out it was Robin. Â
She was struggling to carry several things in her arms as she walked and you rushed over to her.
âWhere did you come from?â You asked, grinning ear to ear at how glad you were to see someone familiar.
âMy cabin is right over there,â she bucked her chin in a direction behind you.
She had a crossbody bag over her shoulder, an amp in one hand, and she was juggling two guitar cases, one of which she fumbled, and you managed to catch it before it hit the ground. You wrapped your arms around the hard case with the Scorpions sticker on it, silently offering to carry it the rest of the way.
âYou donât have toââ Robin started, adjusting the bag over her shoulder.
âI want to,â you looked back up at the house where the music was coming from, assuming that was where she was headed. âI carry that big cello around all the time, remember? Iâm used to it.â
Robin moved her jaw from side to side and she looked conflicted. âYouâre not supposed to be here.â
Your eyes were still locked on the house hidden in the trees. âWhat is that place?â
âListen,â she gave you an imploring look. âI will get in so much trouble if they find out you came out here. Your dad wonât want you here, trust me.â
Her warning did nothing to squelch your curiosity. âIâm a big girl, I go wherever I want. Plus, I wonât tell anyone.â
âBesides,â she gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrow. âIf your boyfriend Troy finds out you were here, Brenner will fire all of us.â
âHeâs not my boyfriend,â you snapped. But then, softer, you added, âI barely just met him tonight.â
Robin wasnât in the mood to try and rip the guitar out of your hands, and so, with a heavy sigh, she caved.
âFine,â she sighed. âBut stay close to me, okay? Youâre not at the resort anymore, sweetheart.â
You nodded, waiting for her to lead the way.
She took a step forward and then stopped and turned on her heel to point at the instrument in your arms.Â
âBe extra careful with that, itâs Eddieâs baby. Heâll grow horns if anything happens to it.â
----
Hi! If you are familiar with the movie Dirty Dancing, you have an idea about what scene is coming up next. I've really enjoyed lining up certain events with the movie, but things will obviously be different in this because I want it to have some surprises in store for you.
Every chapter from here on out will start with a list of the songs, ones that will give hints for what to expect. I wanted to make music a big part of this fic, because it was a huge deal in the movie, and the original soundtrack is still dear to me.
as always, thank you so much for reading and interacting with this story! Comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated. or send me an ask and let me know what you think â€ïž
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taglist: @tlclick73 @micheledawn1975 @kurdtbean @katethetank @elvendria @spookysqaush86 @somethingvicked @stylesxmunson @laurenlokirby @sapphire4082
#Dirty Metal Summer#dirty dancing au#Eddie Munson series#Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson fic#Eddie Munson smut#Stranger Things fic#Steve Harrington#robin buckley
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THE PART WHERE YOU KISS ME â JJ MAYBANK
summary: You're stuck with the job of getting a very drunk, very lovesick JJ into bed.
length: 2.4k
contains: tooth-rotting fluff, obsessed boyfriend JJ, soooo touchy he can't keep his hands off of you (can you tell my love language is physical touch lmfao???), mentions of heavy drinking of course, zero plot, he's a flirty little freak and i hate him
note: Not the happiest with this but I haven't posted in a week and I'm in the middle of writing three other pieces right now...so take this as an apology gift for not having the GFAW chapter out yet <3
Driving to the Chateau this late is never ideal, especially when youâre tired and ticked off from a busy shift. Your feet and back ache, your head could use a few Advil, and you would be perfectly happy to stay home and sleep for twelve hours.Â
But when Kie calls you, groaning and saying Your boyfriend is wasted and wonât shut up about you and you need to come pull him to bed, you go. Itâs as simple as that, really. Partially because JJ is already painfully stubborn when sober and only gets worse as the night goes on (code for: he wonât listen to anyone but you), and partly because you get a sweet kick out of his clinginess and extra loving.
So when you finally pull up and hop out of your car, the sound of Pope sighing Finally doesnât surprise nor offend you. Kie and Sarah scurry over, welcoming you with hugs and jokes about how sorry they are they had to call you while John B and Pope still tend to the drunken blonde.
âItâs alright,â you assure them, âI donât mind.â And you really donât, not at all, not when he acts all the more helplessly in love with you.
The bonfire still burns on, red-hot embers breaking off into the midnight sky. Pink Floydâs Dark Side of the Moon plays from a speaker nearby, and beer bottles litter the ground as you approach. The fireâs warmth wraps around you, a handle of Titoâsâonly half fullâentering your field of vision as you find JJ reclined back on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes while his other hand taps along to the song. You crouch down next to him and hear him hum in tune.
John B stands behind you, feeling a little helpless. âHeâs been talking about you nonstop since he got, like, three shots deep.â
âAnd as much as we love you guys together,â Sarah adds, leaning into the boyâs side, âHe doesnât listen very well once he gets started.â
You shoot them a smile over your shoulder. âItâs okay, I get it. You guys can head in if you want, this might take a while.â The two lovebirds wave you goodnight as they walk back inside with Kie and Pope, and you turn your attention back to your exceptionally troublesome boy. âJJ? Time to go to bed.â
He grumbles without moving an inch. âI told you to fuck off, Sarah, I just wanna see my girl.â
Your heart flutters at the nameâhis girl. Youâve never heard him call you that. Does he seriously think youâre Sarah? âYour girl?â
âYeah, you know the gorgeous one?â
âMight ring a bell.â
âYeah, well, sheâs the mostâŠthe most beautiful person in the history ofâŠof forever, and sheâs mine, so get outta here nââŠgo flirt with John B or somethinâ.â He lazily waves you off, mumbling something you donât quite hear.
A smile fights its way to the surface, and you gently place your hand on the smooth plane of his shoulder. âOh, but I wanted to flirt with you instead. Howâs that sound, hm?â
He quickly pushes your touch away. âIt sounds like my girlâs gonna kill you any second now, so watch it, Blondie.â He slurs his words as he speaks, pulling giggles from your lips. You gently take his wrist in your hand to remove his arm from his eyes and press a kiss where your fingertips touch him. His eyes stay closed, and he juts his chin in the opposite direction in protest.
âJay, baby, Iâm not killing anyone anytime soon,â you coo, leaning over his chest and face while running a hand through his hair.Â
He opens one eye, suspicious of your claims, but quickly realizes itâs you, and turns to look at you like heâll never get the chance to do it again, his expression swallowed by a smile. âWhen did you get here, baby?â
âOh, just now,â you answer, laughter lacing your words, ïżœïżœKie called me over.â You press a kiss to his forehead before sitting back up, your hand quickly taken by his.
âYou shouldâve come sooner.â His other hand makes its way to your thigh, smoothing over your skin. âI was waiting for you, all by myself, andââ he abruptly sits upâ âthereâs something I have to tell you,â he whispers. He casts a glance to the Chateau. âItâs top secret.â
With him this close, you can smell the vodka on his breath. âYeah? What is it?â You loop your arms around his neck and scratch at the nape of his neck, to which he instinctively responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing the palms of his hands along your back.
âThis is top secret, classified information, princess, you canât just get it for free. Everything comes with a price.â A sly little grin comes over him, tugging you a little closer.
Knowing JJ, you already know where this is headed. You decide to play along anyway: âName it, then. Iâm sure we can strike a deal somehow.â
He mulls over his words before saying, âHear me out.â
âIâm listening.â
âYouââ he points at your chestâ âgive me threeâno, five kisses for the info up front.â When you raise your eyebrows in suspicion, he continues, âAnd every follow up question is worth another kiss.â
âThis must be very important information.â
âVery.â His hands, still soaking in the feeling of you beneath them, start to play with the hem of your tank top, fingertips slipping beneath the fabric to feel skin. âBetter pay up soon.â
You feign a look of shock and place a hand on his chest. âI didnât even agree yet, donât get too excited.âÂ
He pouts with furrowed brows, convinced his offer would be impossible to resist. âWhy? Baby, come on,â he urges, holding you tighter, âThis is the part where you kiss me.â His eyelids droop with drunkenness and fatigue as he presses his lips to your neck, but you quickly take his jaw in your hand and pull him away.Â
âAh ah ah,â you tease. âYou come to bed first, then Iâll give you kisses for your secrets.â
âBut I donât wanna go to bed.â His hands work their way from your waist down to your hips again, soon grazing your thighs the way he knows erupts butterflies in your stomach. âI wanna stay here with youâŠhave you boss me around. Youâre very sexy when you do it.â He smirks while looking up at you, and you know for a fact heâs just trying to push your buttons.
You roll your eyes and push his face away as you start to stand up. âYouâre a pain in the ass, I hope you know that.â As bitter as you try to sound, youâll always have a soft spot for him the way he does for you, especially when your bitterness is met with that beautiful smile of his. You hold out both hands, towering over him and urging him to stand. âCâmon, Jay.â
He leans his weight onto his hands, stubborn as always. âWill you stay the night?â
âNot if you keep this up, I wonât.â You lend him a condescending smile.Â
âBut Baby,â he groans, finally complying now that the stakes have been raised. âI havenât seen you all day, and I miss you.â He starts to shuffle where he sits, taking hold of your hands as you pull him up, dizziness causing him to stumble into your arms. âCanât a boy just get some love from his girl?âÂ
There he goes againâhis girl.Â
You loop his arm over your shoulder and wrap yours around his waist as you lead him into the Chateau, surrounded by his warmth and the smell thatâs so distinctly him: a bit of beachiness, mandarin and musky from his body wash, a hint of marijuana.
âYouâre very kind,â he rambles on, âfor coming here so late. I missed you.â
âI know, baby. You told me.â
He makes his way up the steps with you, following as you open the door. âWell, Iâm making sure youâre sure.â
âIâm sure, love.â You smile to yourself, a little caught off guard with how open heâs become.
âI still have to tell you that top secret information,â he whispers, leaning down to your ear-level. His body wraps around you as you stand in front of him to open the door to his bedroom, his arms start to wrap around your waist again. âAnd you still owe me kisses for it.â
You usher him into his room, shutting the door behind you. âCâmon, letâs get into bed. That was the rule.â
He does as you wish without complaint for once, though when he does sit at the edge of his bed, he also pulls you to stand in between his legs. âIâm in bed now.â
âI can see that,â you giggle, hands massaging his neck and shoulders.
âDoes this mean youâll give me a kiss now?â
âNot yet.â You tug at the fabric of his shirt. âTake this off, please?â You donât think much when you say it, but once the words slip out and you see JJâs brows raise as a cocky smirk crosses his face, you realize you need to cover your tracks.
He bites his tongue to oblige, nabbing the back of his tee before pulling it over his head. Revealed to you are his broad shoulders, his chest, those toned arms that are, admittedly, to die for, though youâd never tell him that directly.Â
âYouâre trying to undress me, baby?â he asks, too quick for you to correct yourself. His hands take purchase of your hips before taking up your thighs, his hands molding to your curves and getting treacherously close to your inner thighs.
Your face goes hotâwhy is he so good at this?âbut you keep a straight face and grab his face, one hand cupping his jaw while the other supports the back of his head. âDo you want your kiss or not?âÂ
âYes maâam,â he responds, almost immediately. His eyes glaze over, entranced by everything you are. A drunk smile is sent your way, and he canât really tell whether the tingling all over his body is just from the vodka, or if itâs your hands on his body, your snippy tone that he knows is full of love. Heâs sure that no matter how flustered he can make you, itâll never compare to how you make him feel with even the slightest of touches.
Your grip goes soft, and you rake your hand through his hair, his eyes falling shut and his head gone slack into your hands. âYouâre beyond wasted, aren't you?â
He laughs heartily now, eyes still shut as he nods his head. âI canât keep my eyes open any longer, princess.â Giggles line his words and his face scrunches in a smile, dimple on display.
âHow much did you drink?â
âA few beers.â
âAnd?â You tug lightly on his hair.
âMm, some vodka, maybe. A few shots.â His hands drag from the backs of your thighs, to your hips, to your waist.
âJJ.â You stare down at his clearly vodka-dazed face. âHow many is a few?â
He hums to himself, as deep in thought one can be when wasted. âMaybe sevenâŠor nineâŠdonât remember,â he mumbles.
You sigh to yourself, not surprised by his recklessness but still not all too happy with it.Â
But before you can formulate a single thought, a single articulated response, he starts to poutâeyes still closed of course, because your boy is nothing if not a truth-teller. âYou sound mad.â Even when wasted he knows you so well.
âIâm not,â you fib a little, for his own sake. You kiss his forehead, then his cheek before letting go of him entirely to pull back the covers for him. âCome on, time to sleep, yeah?â You give a soft tug on his hand as his body goes pliant.
He slowly but surely crawls properly into bed, giving you a show of his back muscles flexing and relaxing before falling face-first into his pillow with a hmph. You lay down next to him as he lifts his arm with all his might, slowly turning onto his side to make space for you. Legs intertwine without words, the warmth of his body blankets your senses, his weight grounds you.
âYou need to hurry, princess. I need toâŠneed to give you the information.â The words are half-muffled by his pillow, and his eyes are still shut.Â
âOh. Weâre still doing that?â Youâre surprised he even remembers the information at this pointâwhatever it might be.Â
He squeezes you tighter into his body, pulling a smile from you as he groans. âYes, weâre still doing thatâŠitâs important. You need three moreâŠâ
âOkay, okay,â you soothe, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. âDoes that count?â
âMhm, two more.â A stupid, drunk, terribly charming grin crosses his face, and it feels like youâre falling for him all over again, teetering at the edge of a cliff. His arm, still heavy on your waist, shifts a little, and his fingers dance along your back and light fires where they touch.
You curl your hand, gently, along the crook of his neck and kiss his jaw. âAnd that counts as well?â
With the way youâre whispering your words into his neck, JJ swears he could die happily. âMm, sure does.â
For the fifth and final kiss, the corner of his mouth. It curls into your kiss like he knew it was coming, and you give him one more just for good measureâand, maybe, because seeing him smile is worth his weight in gold. You brush your hand through his hair before hugging him a little tighter towards your chest, all too aware now that you wonât be getting any information out of him the rest of the night. This minor inconvenience, however, doesnât seem to compare to having him in your arms, his breath against your neck, his arm wrapped around you to tell you heâs there, and heâs there to stay, and he wants to be there more than anywhere else.
You think that you could play this game a million times over. The part where you kiss himâthat is, when his lovely, sweet little smile peeks through that rough shellâwill never get old enough to retire.
(But for tonight, you can live without more of his drunken teasing. Just for tonight.)
#jj maybank#jj outer banks#jj obx#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank fluff#jj obx fic#jj obx imagine#jj maybank x you#outer banks#obx#obx fic#obx imagine#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank outer banks#jj maybank fic
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I Will Ease Your Mind.
bob floyd x wife!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: none! itâs just fluff and some slight angst?
Description: Bob soothes you to sleep by singing you, yours and his wedding song. (wc: 800+)
Tagging: @auroralightsthesky. Mary I couldnât have written this without your constant encouragement & kind words :,) this oneâs for you my friend <3
Song: âBridge Over Troubled Waterâ by Simon & Garfunkel. Iâd recommend giving it a listen before or during reading.
A/N: hi! so this is the first oneshot iâve written in a minute. i love this song & have been listening to it on repeat lately picturing Bob singing it to me, which gave me the idea to write this haha :) i hope you all enjoy it <3
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Bob could tell something was off, from the very moment you two settled in for the night. Your lips barely grazed against his when bidding him his usual goodnight kiss, you avoided all eye contact, and were quick to flip over onto your side that faced away from your loverâs longing gaze.
Bob didnât want to push or pry, but he knew he needed to get to the bottom of this. He didnât want to have to witness you falling asleep feeling on edge. He wanted to comfort you and ease you the best way he knew he could.
He was gentle, making subtle movements and turning just enough to notice you starting to stir a bit. Bob could tell just how tense you were. You were practically balled up like a kitten and were moved towards the edge of your side of the bed. Your knees were scrunched up towards your chest and your shoulders were squeezed together. Bob was afraid that if you wound yourself up any tighter, then you would somehow end up stuck that way, in this very position.
Bob slowly moved an inch, not wanting to startle you. He oh so carefully reached out and placed a large palm onto your back and began to move his hand in soothing circles starting from the middle of your back and slowly traveling upwards towards your shoulder blades. he curled his fingers, which allowed for his nails to run along your clothed skin & he gently kneaded his thumb to soften up your tight muscles, which elicited a light purr from of you.
Bobâs movements didnât let up, as he leaned down to press a light kiss onto your head. You were still tense and wound up, only letting out the littlest of sighs and hums from the soothing touches of your husband. Bob knew what could possibly fix this.
He began to lightly hum the sounds of a song, that he knew would pique your interest. You didnât move initially, just soaking in the light grazes of Bobâs magical palm.
You suddenly perked up when you heard Bob reciting the words out loud, singing in his calm and quiet voice, as he began simultaneously running his fingers through your hair,
When youâre weary, feeling small. When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them off.
Oh this man, you thought to yourself. Bridge Over Troubled Water was the first song you both danced to at your wedding and it was just destined to make you crumble into a million and one pieces.
You reached back to gather your husbandâs hand into your much smaller one and ran your fingers along the back of his palm, making sure to gently rub at the wedding band on his finger to further relax yourself. Bob continued to sooth you, his voice sounding like an angelâs sent from the Heavenâs above,
Iâm on your side. Oh when times get rough, and friends just canât be found.
You closed your eyes, soaking in the song that meant so much to you and your relationship. Flashes of your wedding day and marrying the love of your life were running through your mind. Bob had told you during your vows that the very first moment he saw you that day at the Hard Deck, he knew there was something so special about you. He knew you were going to be his person, til the end of your days. He made a promise very much like the lyrics of this song, that he would be by your side during all the ups and down. That he would dry your tears, ease your troubles and mind, and would most importantly be a friend to you if no one else could be found.
Bob persisted on. Singing out the words,
Like a bridge over troubled water, I will lay me down. Like a bridge over troubled water I will lay me downâŠ
And that was it. Those last lines of lyrics made all the stress and uneasiness that built up from the day be completely released from you. Tears fell from your tired eyes and rolled down your cheeks, as you let out a distinct sob into your pillow. It felt good to finally break away from anxietyâs clutches and allow yourself to feel freely.
Bob had paused for a moment, wanting to coax you to further let it all out and breathe for him. He knew how much you needed this and was glad he could be there beside you, to help you get past these intense built up feelings. Your husband continued to serenade you into the night, until your breathing finally settled and the only sounds heard were the bustling winds outside your window and the lightest of snores falling from your lips.
-
#bob floyd#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd x you#bob floyd x y/n#robert bob floyd#bob floyd x female reader#robert bob floyd x reader#robert bob floyd fanfiction#robert bob floyd x you#top gun maverick#top gun maverick fanfiction#tgm#tgm fic#bob floyd fanfiction#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd fic#robert bob floyd fic#lewis pullman#floydsmuse
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I'll Sing Silence
Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, background Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler
Rating: T
W/C: 2706
Tags: established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, autistic Steve Harrington, sensory issues, stimming, autistic shutdown, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson Takes Care Of Steve Harrington
Notes: Title from Drinking Song For The Socially Anxious by The Amazing Devil. A lot of this is based off my own experiences with autism, other stuff I've added in.
Summary: A series of unfortunate events leads to a bad day for Steve. Luckily, Eddie's there to take care of him.
___
It was a series of unfortunate events that led to Steveâs meltdown that evening.
First of all, he hadnât slept well last night which had led to him sleeping through his morning alarm since heâd been so tired, and then he hadnât had time for a shower before work so he was feeling sweaty and gross, and it was already hot when he stepped outside which led to his clothes sticking comfortably to his skin and he was already upset by the rupture in his morning routine but then Robin was running late and heâd had to sit in the car outside her house and stare anxiously at the minutes ticking by on his watch while his leg jiggled impatiently and then heâd had to pretend everything was fine when Robin asked why he looked so tenseâŠ
They were late opening Family Video, late to clock in, and Steve hated being late.
He had a routine, he had a system, and when it was upset it took him a long time to settle again.
But heâd listened to Robin chatter away while they rewound tapes and put them away, murmured non-committed responses and retreated back inside his own head a bit until he started feeling semi-normal again.
Just as he was starting to feel a little better, lunch time had rolled around, and he realized heâd forgotten his lunch in his rush this morning, and heâd stood in the breakroom with his fists clenched and his heart pounding because now he was going to have to rush to Melvalds and try to find something to eat but he wasnât sure he had enough time and heâd never gone there before during a lunch break, it was out of routine and it shouldnât be a big deal but it fucking was because there was something wrong with him, why was he so upset over fucking lunchâŠ
He was wasting his break. Couldnât get his brain to cooperate and just choose a constructive path to follow, became stuck in a frustrated loop and frozen in place as the minutes passed.
He did nothing, in the end.
Spent his time staring at the wall of the breakroom, trying to breathe slowly, trying to settle himself but without something to eat he couldnât find anything for his hands to do, ended up stuffing them into the sleeves of his jacket and clutching the fabric hard, hard enough that his fingers started to ache and it was making him too hot but it felt good to just squeeze somethingâŠ
Robin found him. Frowned, offered him half her own sandwich which he gratefully took but it wasnât right, there was too much ham and the cheese was a different brand to what he usually bought and it didnât feel right in his mouth.
A run-in with a grumpy customer that afternoon almost tipped him over the edge.
Heâd felt tears building, felt that familiar tight feeling in his throat, the way his lungs were starting to constrict and his hands were starting to tremble even as he frantically twisted the bracelet on his wrist, the one Eddie had given him after seeing him constantly play with Eddieâs own jewelryâŠ
The woman was saying something, her face twisted and angry while she waved around a tape in her hand, but she wasnât giving Steve any time to process her words and every time he tried to talk sheâd yell over the top of him and Steve had had enough.
Before he could lose it in front of the customer, he backed up. Turned on his heel, strode away, threw a pleading look at Robin as he passed her.
She nodded, smoothly intercepted the woman with a fake smile plastered on her face, and Steve retreated quickly to the relative safety of the breakroom.
He breathed. Stared unblinking at the floor, still rotating the brown leather bracelet, running his index finger over the intricate design etched into it.
Youâre fine, calm the fuck down, stop being a fucking child.
But he couldnât.
He knew this wasnât normal, that he should be able to deal with the day like any other person, but it was like there was this block in his brain telling him otherwise.
âSteve, you ok?â
Robin interrupted his downward spiral, placed a hand on his back and Steve immediately leaned into it because the pressure was good, the weight of her hand comforting and grounding.
âMmm hmm,â he mumbled.
âIgnore Mrs Brown, sheâs a bitch.â
âYeah.â
âTried to tell me the tape didnât work, I put it in the store player and it was totally fine so itâs probably an issue with her player but I swapped the tape out anyway because I really couldnât be bothered arguing it furtherâŠSteve?â Robinâs tone was concerned, her hand rubbing small circles into his back.
âMmm?â
âYou donât look too good, whatâs happened?â
âNothing.â
âWell, itâs clearly something -â
âMâfine.â
âDo you want to head home early? I can finish off here and call Nance to pick me up.â
No, because that would mess up his routine even more and he didnât think he could live with that today.
Steve shook his head.
âWellâŠwe can skip dinner tonight, if you want. We can just postpone it, if youâd rather go home.â
He would rather go home. Or preferably to Eddieâs, where he could curl up on his boyfriendâs bed and let Eddie wrap his arms around him and squeeze him tight and pull the blanket up over his head and just shut out the rest of the world until he was ready to crawl back out and deal with it again.
But theyâd been looking forward to going out to the diner for a while now â Steve, Eddie, Robin and Nancy â their schedules had finally aligned, and theyâd eagerly organized the double date.
Everyone was looking forward to it, and Steve wasnât going to let them cancel it just because of him.
Just because he couldnât deal with a few minor inconveniences in his day.
He shook his head again.
âYou sure?â
âMmm.â
âOk, wellâŠhow about you just sit out here for a few minutes, ok? Come back out when youâre ready.â
Some days, Steve went about his day and felt almost like a normal human.
He woke up, he went to work, he chatted to his friends, heâd see Eddie whenever he could, kiss him and watch movies and eat dinner and everything was fine.
But some days, everything was too loud. The tag on the back of his t shirt scratched at his neck, the door to Family Video creaked a little too much and he felt it in his teeth, the lights overhead were too fucking bright and there were too many people demanding his attention all at once and it was like a flip switched somewhere and he went into shutdown.
He wasnât quite there yet, but he was about to crest that wave, and everything would come crashing down then.
The rest of the day passed in a blur, too slow and too fast at the same time, and Steve waded through it like molasses, heavy and slow.
When Eddie sauntered in at the end of Steveâs shift, all warm smiles and soft eyes and familiar scent, Steve felt his heartbeat slow a little.
âHey, Stevie,â Eddie murmured, looking him up and down and immediately wrapping his arms around him tight because there was no one else in the store and he knew, he always knew when Steve was having a bad day.
Steve sagged a little, pressing his face to Eddieâs neck, breathing him in, hands curling in the soft material of his Metallica t shirt.
âYou still wanna go out, sweetheart?â Eddie whispered.
Steve nodded, most of the motion lost due to the fact he was practically burrowed into Eddie.
Eddie kept a hand on him the whole way to the diner. Whether it was holding his hand in the car, or allowing their pinkies to just brush as they walked side by side to the diner, or the gentle grip on the back of Steveâs shirt as they rounded the corner and saw the large queue outside the diner.
Steveâs stomach dropped.
He liked the diner.
It was familiar, he knew the menu by heart, he knew what he liked and the staff were friendly and happy to swap out a couple of the things on his plate because he always preferred his sauce on the side and he didnât like tomato in his burger, and the music was never too loud and the lights were just dim enough that they didnât irritate him to hell and back.
They hadnât bothered to book tonight because it was never usually this crowded.
âIâm gonna go see whatâs happening,â Nancy announced, striding past the queue towards the door.
Steve swallowed, shifted from foot to foot.
Eddie leaned in. âItâs alright, sweetheart,â he breathed, âif itâs too busy, we can go home, ok? We can come back another day.â
He nodded.
Nancy returned, looking mildly irritated. âItâs some special theyâve got on, you get your food half price before seven pm, itâs already completely full in there.â
Eddie tilted his head, contemplating. âWe could come back after seven, when the crowdâs thinned out?â
Robin groaned. âIâm starving, I gave half my lunch to Steve because he forgot his.â
Eddie glanced at Steve, fingers brushing the back of his arm briefly.
âWe could go to that new place?â Nancy suggested. âThe one on the corner? It only opened last week, it might be quieter since half the townâs here.â
Eddieâs gaze flicked to Steve again. âMaybe we just go home, do this another day,â he said carefully.
Steve wanted to speak, found his mouth glued shut, pulse thrumming in his ears.
âItâs Mexican, right?â Robin asked excitedly. âYes, can we go there? Please?â
Steve liked Mexican food - when he could cook it himself, or when heâd been somewhere before and knew exactly what to order. But heâd have to study the menu at this new place, have to no doubt awkwardly ask them to omit some ingredient or another and what if they didnât like that, he didnât want to complicate things or make it uncomfortable for the others, and what if they had the music up too loud and he wouldnât know where the bathroom was to retreat to so he might have to ask but what if he couldnât get words outâŠ
âSteve?â Robin was saying.
âMmm?â
âCan we go?â
âSure,â he said, because heâd give Robin the world if he could.
Robin clapped her hands, darted ahead with Nancy.
Steve went to follow, but was stopped by Eddieâs hand on his wrist, turned to see him looking at Steve with concerned eyes.
âStevieâŠlets go home, huh?â
Steve shrugged him off. Started to walk determinedly, because Robin was excited and she was bounding ahead and Nancy was smiling bright at her and he wasnât going to ruin this even though he was currently swallowing back tears.
âSteve -â
âItâs fine,â Steve snapped. âItâs nothing, ok? Weâre just going to a different fucking restaurant, it isnât a big deal, ok?â
âSweetheart, just breathe for a second, ok.â
âI donât need toâŠI donât need to fucking breathe, we need to get to the restaurant because weâre already later than we usually are which means weâll get home later which means Iâll have to be quicker to get ready for bed tonight so I get to sleep on time so that Iâm not so fucking tired tomorrow and -â
Eddie pulled him to his chest. Hugged him tight in the street, in view of any passerbys, because Steve was about to fall apart and there was no other option.
Steve was crying, was still stammering his way through his explanation, his world shrinking to just Eddie and his own heartbeat booming in his ears.
Faintly, as if underwater, he heard Robin and Nancy, their concerned voices saying his name, Eddie telling them he was going to take Steve home, that he was ok, that they should carry on to dinner and heâd call them later.
ââŠMrs Brown, she was yelling at me and her voice makes my skin crawl and she wouldnât stop yelling and everythingâs so loud today -â Steve was whining into Eddieâs chest, as Eddie ran a hand over the back of his head, scrubbing his fingers through his locks in the way that Steve loved but right now he needed to get away from here, needed to go home.
âShhh, baby,â Eddie murmured to him. âIâve got ya, weâre gonna head back to the car, ok? You can come home with me, Iâll run you a bath if you want one and get you something to eat, ok?â
Steve nodded as best he could, followed Eddie back down the street.
âRobin -â he started, voice miserable as they approached his car, as he wordlessly handed the keys over to Eddie because they both knew he couldnât drive in this state.
â â will be fine,â Eddie told him gently, âshe and Nancy will have a nice night, and weâll hear about it tomorrow, ok?â
âI ruined it,â Steve sobbed, breath hitching.
âYou didnât,â Eddie insisted, opening the door for Steve and gently guiding him into the passenger seat. He reached over, clicked Steveâs belt in, pressed a brief kiss to the side of his head. âSweetheart, you didnât. Youâre allowed to have a bad day, ok? Shit, you know Iâve had plenty, and youâve looked after me every time. Let me look after you, ok?â
Eddie kept the music on a low volume as they drove to his trailer. Loud enough that Steve could hear it, that it softly filled the silence because silence wouldâve been too loud right now, but quiet enough that it didnât irritate him at all.
It was just right.
And Eddie had one hand on the wheel and one hand cradling Steveâs, rubbing circles into the skin over his knuckles, keeping Steve here, keeping him present.
Wayne was working a night shift, which was fortunate for them tonight. Not that Eddieâs uncle wouldâve minded Steve being there in this state, but Steve hated anyone seeing him like this â the less people around right now, the better.
Eddie led him inside, sat him down on the couch, gently lifted Steveâs arms up above his head and peeled his t shirt off him.
Steve sighed in relief at the tag no longer itching his neck, and then Eddie was draping the throw from the back of the couch over his shoulders, the soft one Steve loved to burrow under while they watched movies.
Eddie lay down at the other end of the couch, gestured for Steve. âCâmere, sweetheart.â
Steve went. Draped himself over Eddie, fell into him easily, chest to chest. A soft noise escaped him when Eddieâs arms circled about his waist and squeezed, the pressure fucking lovely and Steve pushed his face into Eddieâs collar and hummed, index finger and thumb playing with a belt loop on his boyfriendâs jeans.
He wasnât sure how long they lay like that. Eddie had turned the TV on at some stage, some nondescript show playing to give Steve a tiny bit of background noise. His eyes were closed, his breathing was evening out, his tears drying on his cheeks and on Eddieâs t shirt.
âStevie?â Eddie whispered eventually. âCan I get you something to eat?â
âToast?â Steve asked quietly, hopefully, his voice small.
Eddie smiled into his hair. âSure.â
Steve tipped his head back a little, feeling groggy and heavy and slow but better, calmer. âAnd please can you -â
â- cut the crusts off?â Eddie chuckled softly. âïżœïżœïżœCourse I will.â
Steve smiled tiredly. He didnât always need his toast like that, but today was very much a no-crusts day.
âAnd then if youâre up to it Iâd like to run you a bath, ok?â
Steve nodded, briefly unhappy when Eddie detangled himself from him, slipping out from under Steve carefully.
When he turned to head for the kitchen, Steve reached out, clutched at Eddieâ wrist.
âEds?â
âYeah?â
âLove you. Thank you.â
âAnytime, Stevie.â
___
#stranger things#steddie#steddie fic#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#autistic steve harrington
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Rockstar Girlfriend III. | Hazel CallahanÂ
Rockstar! Hazel Callahan x Popstar! Reader Summary: Hazel Callahan and Y/n L/n have to be in a pr relationship, but both of them can stand each other but recently things are starting to look up. Warnings: Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Enemies to lovers! Fluff, slight loser! Hazel. Not proof read. Sorry for any mistake, English isn't my main language. a/n: I should be doing an essay for class here we are. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for all the love. There could possibly be another part. ps. the song is "Lavender Haze" by Taylor Swift
part one. part two. part four. part five.
âSurreal, I'm damned if I do give a damn what people say. No deal, the 1950s shit they want from meâ
The two lines stared back at her as she anxiously tapped her pen against the couch hoping that some words would magically show up. She was desperate, very desperate. The deadline was near and she had made zero to no progress only having the first two lines of the song. She needed to finish the last song on the album, her manager had emphasized how important this album was for their career as a band. They needed to hop on the wave of success âdatingâ Hazel Callahan brought.Â
She hated it, the only reason people were actually listening to her band wasnât because they were talented but because she was attached to Hazelâs name. Not only did Hazel have several awards, a reputation of a god and a talented band but now Y/nâs band success was thanks to her. She wanted to prove to the people that she was as talented as Hazel Callahan and her band. Thatâs why she offered herself to write that song on the album and thatâs how she found herself at one am in the morning in the recording studio attempting to get out of the writer's block she had been stuck in for days.Â
âNo deal, the 1950âs shit they want for me. I just..â Y/n hummed the melody as taped the pen on the cushion attempting to get a beat. She was determined to get this song out. She needed to prove to her manager, to herself, to her band and to Hazel that she was talented. âFor fucks sakeâ Y/n muttered out as she took a sip of energy drink crumbling the paper up and throwing it in a pile of paper on the floor. She threw her head back on the couch stretching her legs under the coffee table. She closed her eyes, controlling her breath. Someone had cleared their throat from the other side of the room startling her. Y/n had lifted her head staring at the person in front of her.Â
Hazel Callahan stood before Y/n, the only thing separating them was the table in the middle of the studio. Hazelâs body was adorned in a familiar sweater which instantly caused Y/n to smile at her. Hazel held onto her guitar case while her tote bag rested on her shoulder. She sent a warm smile towards Y/nâs way, not her usual smirk, which actually scared her. For Y/n, this felt like she was crossing unknown territory. Why was Hazel at the studio late at night? It didnât make any sense.Â
âHey, I hope Iâm not bothering your creative process. I just.. You know. I was here in the morning and left by lunch. Didnât see you move from your spot so I thought you might be hungry. I brought some food so we could eat. I always get good inspiration with a full stomach so I decided to bring your usual, I think⊠Iâve seen you order it a bunch of times before so I really hope itâs your usual and that I didnât get it wrongâ Hazel rambled quickly, taking out a brown bag from her tote bag and placing it on top of the table in front of them. She slowly rested her guitar case against the leather couch and quickly sat in front of the table also taking out her food out of her tote bag.Â
âYou know. Itâs kind of scary that youâre being this nice to me.â Y/n said softly as she inspected the bag slowly, surprised that Hazel had gotten her usual order perfectly. Hazel took a bite of the fries shrugging her off.Â
âI know itâs hard to believe but I am a nice person, Y/n. I just like messing with you, you make this cute little face when you're angryâ She replied, taking a bite of her burger as Y/n followed her actions. Y/n could feel her face flushing at Hazelâs compliment. Her voice saying her name sounded like a melody she couldnât get out of her head. What was happening?
âThank You, Hazel. I really appreciate you bringing the food and everything but I need to finish this song. Management wants it for tomo.. Well actually today and Iâm not even halfway done. â Y/n said, placing her food down and reaching to grab her pen. As she grabbed it Hazel rested her hands on top of hers. Y/n looked up, locking eyes with Hazel as she felt herself loose the grip on the pen. Hazel cleared her throat, tapping her hand awkwardly, moving it away quickly. She looked to the side awkwardly, not wanting to face Y/n.Â
âYou are stressed and itâs pretty clear that you need a break. So forget about the song and talk to me. I know youâll get the inspiration soon enough, Y/n. You are a talented girl.â Hazel said, rubbing the back of her neck turning to look at her quickly.Â
âYou, Hazel Callan, an award winning rock star, think Iâm talented?â Y/n gasped dramatically placing a hand towards her chest in a joking manner not believing Hazelâs words. Hazel rolled her eyes, continuing eating her food.Â
âI actually believe you guys are underrated. I consider myself a very big B/n fan. Your last album and quite honestly I believe it deserved several awards. More people need to hear you guys. I know that if they take the time theyâll see how talented you are and youâll be on top of the worldâ Hazel responded, scrunching up the wrapper and throwing it inside the paper bag.Â
âI didnât know you were such a fan. Wouldâve sent you a signed sweater instead of the one you have.â Y/n said while continuing to eat her food. Hazelâs smiled started to form slowly while looking down at her Y/nâs merch.Â
âI had to fight someone for this sweater, Ln. Now you should understand how big of a fan I am. So if you give me a signed one, Iâll love you foreverâ She said jokingly while leaning towards the pile of papers picking one up reading Y/nâs messy writing on a scrunched up piece. Â
âPlease donât laugh at it. I tried my best.â Y/n muttered while placing her head on the table hiding her face from Hazel.Â
âNo, Y/n. Youâre off to a good start. Let me help you out. Maybe we can come up with something together. You wrote here, I feel the blank, creeping up on me, what did you really want to write? Come on donât be shyâ She asked, while her eyes reread the lyrics. Her hand reached towards her guitar case, took her acoustic guitar out and placed it on her lap. As she strummed the guitar tuning it, Y/n felt herself smile. She wanted to write a love song and as much as she wanted to push Hazel away, the only thing she could think about was Hazel and her lavender sweater.Â
âLavender Hazeâ She muttered softly onto the table. Hazel straightens up trying to see her facial expressions. Y/n slowly raised her face up looking at Hazel. Â
âSpeak up, pretty girl,â Hazel said, sending her way an encouraging smile. Y/n felt herself blushed, feeling completely flustered by Hazelâs actions.Â
âLavender Haze. I feel a Lavender Haze creeping up on me. â Y/n replied confidently, while she watched Hazel nodded writing down on the paper.Â
âWell, Y/n. Letâs make Lavender haze a real hit, babyâ Hazel replied, passing her the pen with a confident smile. Thatâs how two girls that supposedly hated each other wrote a song at midnight about the Lavender Haze.Â
...
Thank You so much for reading.
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#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan imagine#hazel x reader#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan#bottoms movie#kit tanthalos x reader#kit tanthalos#ruby cruz x reader#ruby cruz#willow#save willow#hazel callahan reader insert#reader insert#wlw#sapphic#lesbian
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ËÊâĄÉË âconcert goingâ - l.hc
SYNOPSIS - you and your boyfriend haechan finally get tickets to a concert and see the artist you love
PAIRING - lee haechan x reader
GENRE - fluff, established relationship
WARNINGS - i guess you could say that the reader is short (đ), reader is called âbabyâ, lmk if i missed something.
notes: i am so down bad for hyuck rn. like why is he so fine?! anyways, i used a random prompt generator to write this since my brain is dead from school and i got âget on my shoulders, youâll see better.â hope you guys like it :3
both you and haechan have been obsessed with a new musical artist youâve recently discovered. youâd both often find yourselves sharing headphones on the bus like in those romance anime movies listening to that one artist, or having their songs quietly play in the background while you complete your homework or some type of work you have due. so when haechan surprised you with tickets to one of their concerts, you nearly jumped out of your shoes with excitement (like literally, you were jumping up and down for the following 5 minutes and hugging (squeezing) the hell out of your poor boyfriend)
the day of the concert eventually comes and you wake up with a huge dumb smile on your face. you stayed up quite late last night trying to clear out as much unwanted things on your phone to make storage for the new photos and videos yoy were going to take, but nonetheless you felt as if you had slept atleast 12 hours with how energised you felt. you jumped up out of bed, giggling to yourself as you reached for your pre-planned concert outfit. you manage to change into it as you hear your boyfriend groan groggily, complaining that its too early for you to be getting up yet. you ignore his mumbling and drag him out of bed as you both head to the kitchen and have a breakfast. you let haechan get ready, and before you know it both of you are out of the house and driving to your destination.
you get to the venue, the smile from the morning still plastered on your face. it feels as if its stuck on your face, like youâd have to physically wipe it off with a tissue for it to be gone. you stand in line together, hands intertwined as you babble on about how excited you are to haechan. he teases you about your enthusiasm and how cute you are, squeezing your hand every now and again. eventually you get past all the security and other obstacles, reaching the hall. you get lost a couple of times trying to reach your seats because you cant read signs to save your life, leading to haechan snatching the phone out of your hand and leading you to your correct assigned area. the venue becomes more full by the second and your heart begins to thump in your chest as you wait for the artist to appear.
eventually the artist appears and you start screaming like a feral dog, haechan laughing at you hard. as the booming bass and electrifying guitar riffs filled the air, you found yourselves caught in the midst of the pulsating crowd at the concert. standing far from the stage, you struggled to catch a glimpse of the stage over the sea of heads. "man, I can barely see anything," you exclaimed, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of the performers.
haechan grinned mischievously. "iâve got an idea. get on my shoulders, you'll see better!" you hesitated for a moment, unsure about the idea. but the infectious energy of the crowd and the excitement of the music convinced you to give it a try. with a laugh, you climbed onto haechanâs broad shoulders, feeling a rush of adrenaline as you rose above the crowd.
suddenly, everything changed. from your new vantage point, you could see the stage perfectly. the vibrant lights danced across the performers' faces, and you could feel the music reverberating through your bones.
as you swayed to the rhythm of the music, you both became lost in the moment. for a brief, exhilarating moment, it was just the two of you and the music. as the concert reached its climax, you couldn't wipe the smile from your face. you felt alive, invigorated by the experience of being lifted above the crowd and immersed in the magic of the music. when the final notes faded away and the crowd began to disperse, you climbed down from haechanâs shoulders, feeling a sense of gratitude for your boyfriend's spontaneous idea. "thanks for the lift," you said, grinning at haechan. "anytime, baby, your as light as a feather to me." he replied, his own smile matching yours as you giggled at his response.
âčËââ§ââââââââââââ§âËâč
you finally get home, both of you still giggling and yapping to eachother about your favourite moments of the concert. haechan decides to go take a shower as you decide to get in your pajamas and get cozy. you hold a bag of concert merch, excited to display it in your room and start wearing it on a daily basis. but before you do any of that, you want to express your gratitude to your boyfriend, of course. without him you wouldnt of even went to the concert since he was the one who bought the tickets for you both. you notice haechan walking out of the bathroom, hair dripping onto the fresh t-shirt that heâs wearing. you cant help to think about how handsome he is. he stands over the kitchen counter, supposedly turning the kettle on to make a tea as you creep up behind him. you stand on your tippy toes as you wrap your arms around his shoulders from the back, head turning to the side kiss his cheek. you take notice the immediate smile that appears on his face as he notices your actions. âwhats up with you?â he teases as he spins around, now facing you and wrapping his arms back around your waist. âjust wanted to say thank you for today.â you say, noticing his face leaning utterly close to yours. he chuckles at your response, feeling his hand tighten around you. âof course. you know id do anything to make you happy.â he smiled, closing the gap between you both and pressing a soft kiss onto your lips. you gently run one of your hands through his damp hair, enjoying the feeling of his warm lips against yours. the kiss breaks eventually, and you hear him mumble something out. âi love you.â the smile that has been on your face since this morning somehow grows even bigger as you respond. âi love you too.â
#kpop#drabble#kpop imagines#new kpop blog#one shot#x reader#fanfic#oneshot#lee haechan#haechan#haechan x reader#haechan x you#haechan x y/n#hyuck#lee dong hyuck#yn#imagine#nct imagines#nct 127#nct 127 imagines#nct dream#nct dream imagines#haechan imagines
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Every Step of the Way
Oscar Piastri x Reader x Logan Sargeant x Liam Lawson
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, sick fic
Summary: With a new diagnosis, sometimes things can be confusing and scary. Oscar, Liam, and Logan do their best to help make things as easy as possible.
Warnings: Authors limited knowledge of cancer and chemotherapy
Notes: To the requester, I hope this brings you some comfort. I understand the fear of a new diagnosis. It's a difficult things to navigate.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
The appointment feels like it was years ago, yet she's still sitting in the office. The weight of the words sinking in, the new diagnosis still registering.
Cancer. The single word nobody wants to hear. It is a life changing thing that could pose to be fatal.
And right now, she feels alone. At the mercy of her own emotions. Her phone buzzing beside her, but her consciousness is too far away to notice it.
She hadn't been feeling well for some time. Oscar had suggested seeing a doctor, but she claimed allergies. She'll have to admit to him that he was right (again, as per usual).
The boys have been busy lately, off racing and traveling. She's been stuck home trying to get through all these appointments. The one time they are home, she wishes they weren't.
How is she supposed to tell them her body is trying to kill her? They have too much going on in their own lives right now to worry about her on top of it. The lovely anxiety she's been having over being a burden to her boys sets in once more.
She hates it. These dejected emotions want to escape from her via tears. Yet they don't come. They pool in her eyes instead, just on the cusp of sliding down her cheeks.
Her phone buzzes again. She looks at this time and sees the spam from Liam and Logan asking if she's been kidnapped or something. So much for not worrying them.
She drives him in silence. Only her thoughts to keep her company. The ones that tell her maybe she did something to deserve this. She thinks back to anything that could've cause this kind of karma.
She pulls into the driveway and tries to put a smile on her face as she walks through the door. "I'm home!"
Liam nearly tackles her to the floor as he scoops her up and tosses her onto the sofa. The one all three of the boys have turned into the perfect comfort spot with blankets and snacks and a movie already on the screen.
âFigured you might want some reprieve after your appointment.â Logan tosses a blanket over her.
âYou donât want to now the results?â
Oscar wraps an arm around her and tucks her close to his chest. âYou were supposed to be home two hours ago. whatever it is, we can talk about it after youâve had some time to wind down.â
She ends up falling asleep during the movie. the comforting presence of all three boys has her mind drifting off to somewhere that isnât her own failing body.
She tries to soak up the normalcy of it all before things get worse. The voice in the back of her head is telling her that they wonât want her around when sheâs too exhausted to do anything. when she starts draining their bank accounts because of all the medical bills.
The sleep she got was restless despite not waking up. Theyâd moved her to bed at some point. The cuddle pile and soft snores tell her itâs probably still early.
She maneuvers herself out of bed without waking the boys. A dance sheâs done a thousand times before.
The glass of water is in her hands, but she doesnât remember walking into the Kitchen. Everything is too much right now.
Her knees find the floor and the water spills everywhere. The glass shatters when she throws it in anger.
So much for not waking anyone.
Footsteps hastily make their way towards her. She can hear them whispering as they come around the corner and see the mess that sheâs made.
âLove, Iâm gonna come get you alright?â Strong arms wrap around her and bring her off the floor. She zones out listening to the song clatter of glass being picked up.
Back on the sofa again. The boys donât push but she can tell they want answers. all three of them share nervous gazes.
âCancer.â
She waits for anyone to say anything, to get angry and scream, maybe even cry. Instead she is hugged with such a gentle kind of love that she breaks. The tears donât stop until she is dehydrated and choking.
âWeâre not leaving you, alright? This diagnosis doesnât stop us from loving you.â
The next week is torture. Getting ready for and starting chemotherapy is a nightmare.
It hurts, sheâs sick, and the exhaustion makes everything worse.
But she also has people around her who love and care. They stick with her on the bad days and the worse days. they make the best out of the good days.
Oscar makes sure she sleeps, Logan makes sure she eats, and Liam tries to kidnap her when the other two get over protective.
Itâs certainly a hard road. Some days are harder and she can barely function, but sheâs trying.
Plus, it does help having people who love her around.
#x reader#formula 1#f1 fic#fanficion#f1 fanfic#racing#oscar piastri 81#oscar piastri x logan sargeant#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri#logan sargeant x y/n#logan sergeant x reader#logan sargeant x reader#logan sargeant#liam lawson x y/n#liam lawson#liam lawson x reader#op81 imagine#ls2 imagine#ll40 imagine#op81 x you#op81 fluff#op81 x reader#ls2 fluff#ll40#logan sargeant x you
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