#but the thought of having to deal with my family on my ass this weekend about how it's not that deep and that I'm just being dramatic

[larryslutlinson]

,

[alwaysanundertone]

Why try? | poly! marauders x fem! reader

tag: @staarflowerr @mooonyxoxo @liviessun

fluff / slight angst if you close an eye

word count: 1.5k

chapter one, chapter two, chapter three , chapter 4 will be coming soon

CW: negative self talk, cursing

TW: mention of skipping meals!!! Be safe please bestie 🩷

It’s been a couple of days.

A couple of days of you hiding in your dorm room because you just can’t bring yourself to talk to them. The worst thing is that you can’t even talk about it, because nobody knows that you’ve been dating them.

So your roommates just think you’re going through some type of depression.

Thankfully, being the weekend, you don’t have any lesson to go to, so you can just stay in bed and cry all you want.

You don’t even know why you’re making such a big deal out of a single comment, you are painfully aware that you can’t even fight over this small thing, but it still hurts.

That single comment brought out your first two years in Hogwarts, when nobody really was looking forward to become your friend, when you felt like a wallflower in every social setting, when you felt like somebody to be tolerated, not somebody to be loved.

The problem is, you haven’t eaten in two days, and even though you aren’t necessarily hungry, you know that you’ll have to have breakfast on Monday. You aren’t even sleeping well, this mix isn’t really helping your mood, nor the headache that doesn’t seem to pass. You just hope you’ll feel better tomorrow morning.

“Sirius you can’t just barge into her room, for God’s sake” James was sitting on his bed, head in his hands.

“Yeah, Prongs here is right. We aren’t even here boyfriends”

“So what? We’re gonna ignore the fact that she hasn’t been eating for two days straight and pretend that she is fine? Because she is not, I’m telling you. Remus you told us that she seemed strange in the library, yes?” Sirius was pacing anxiously back and forth in their dorm room. He just couldn’t understand why you had been in your room for two days straight, they thought they should have given you some space, but it was getting ridiculous, and Sirius hated space, he wanted you here with his two boyfriends.

Remus shook his head “Maybe she has been eating? How do you know she hasn’t left her dorm room?”

Sirius blushed “I may or may not have checked the map every five minutes since Friday night, and I wanted to remind you that she hasn’t eaten a thing even then! Herbology my ass, you don’t get that upset over herbology! She’s a little genius, I don’t think she has ever struggled since the first year, I won’t believe she is struggling with some stupid plants”.

James and Remus shared a look. Sirius didn’t usually care that much about anyone apart from them. They suddenly realised that they couldn’t loose you, not when Sirius was already going through so much with his family, he would simply break.

“You’re right Sirius. If you’ve checked, she has to eat. It’s a miracle she hasn’t fainted yet”

“Tomorrow morning. We have potions together, right? We’re gonna talk to her, and we’re gonna fix… whatever this is.”

Except you didn’t make it to potions. You were late, the night before you’re brain just shut down, and you woke up on Monday evening, skipping a day of class and, most importantly, three meals. This unplanned fast was getting ridiculous, even to your own eyes.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N” Emmeline was trying to wake you up. “I brought you some food. I don’t know why you’re so upset, I just wanted to let you know that I’m here if you need to talk to someone, or if you just want somebody to be there for you.”

You sighed. She was the only friend that stuck with you since the first year, and she was an angel; always there for you, always ready to listen and give advice, but you just couldn’t manage to talk about what was going on in your head.

“Thanks Em” You smiled, then she exited the room, and you looked at the plate. You ate something, but you were just too exhausted to finish everything.

You didn’t actually go to class since Thursday.

Truth is, you felt like a coward. You didn’t want to face the boys, too afraid of what they would think of you, of what they would say to you, and every day it got worse. You knew that they thought you were avoiding them, and you weren’t even sure why you were doing so, but every time you tried to get up and go outside, you just couldn’t.

Each day, Em would bring you something to eat, you just took a bite of everything, not really finishing the food you were given. Everyday, Em would tell you about how the marauders were looking differently, and how they stared at them throughout the meals, and you really felt guilty.

So, even though you skipped breakfast, having woken up late, you decided to go to class and to talk to the guys, at least to try to. You didn’t want to end something that didn’t even have the chance to start just because you were overthinking.

You were walking to the Great Hall when all of the sudden your vision became blurry, Em was telling you something about the upcoming herbology test, when every sound became sort of muffled, and your head suddenly felt so heavy, and now your legs weren’t cooperating anymore, and then you just fainted.

The marauders, which were catching up to you in the corridors, saw you falling to the ground, and suddenly they didn’t give a fuck about your brother anymore. He wasn’t there to help you anyways.

“Y/N!” Sirius rushed to you, Em staring at him with wide eyes.

Remus was quick to raise your legs in the air, while Sirius promptly made sure that the position wasn’t suddenly flashing the whole student body, while making sure you were smelling his strong cologne, putting your wrist under your nose. James was running to Madam Pomfrey.

Little by little, you started to gain consciousness. You didn’t make sense of the situation at first, so you just nuzzled into Sirius touch.

“Love, have I ever told you that I love your cologne? It smells really great, I want to bathe in it” You looked up at him dreamily. He chuckled.

“Well, sweetheart, thank you. You could have told me so without having to faint, giving me an heart attack.”

And then you realised the position in which you were in. You were in the middle of the corridor.

The students were all looking at you.

Em and Aurora were looking really funny, Em with her eyes open wide, Aurora practically fuming.

But Remus didn’t give you the time to think about this, hauling you in his shoulder and rushing to the infirmary.

They hauled you on a hospital bed, James and Poppy waiting for you.

“Well, what happened?” You tried to speak, but the boys didn’t let you.

“She fainted in the middle of the corridor. She hasn’t been eating for five days” You looked down, embarrassed. How did they know?

“I actually did eat a little” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“I think we have a diagnosis. You’re a smart girl, you should know better than to starve yourself. If you feel like it, I think you should go have lunch. I don’t think we have to conduct further examinations, if you don’t have anything else to tell me?”

You shook your head.

“Is it okay if I carry you, darling?” James looked down at you softly. You blushed, nodding.

So he carried you, and you made your grand entrance: James carried you in his arms bridal style, Remus and Sirius walking at your sides. You could hear the students gasping, a buzz suddenly starting to raise in the common room.

The boys ignored it, sitting you next to them, their friends eager to get to know you.

“So you are the famous Y/N!” Peter was smiling at you, you blushed.

“How do” You cleared your voice. “How do you know my name?”

The boys and their friends started laughing. “How could we not know your name? They’re talking about you 24/7!”

“You should have seen Sirius this weekend, he was so tense that we barely could stop him from lashing out on a poor first year” Lily was smiling, you looked over at Sirius, who was feigning ignorance.

Remus filled your plate with mashed potatoes, some kind of meat, lots and lots of veggies and definitely too much bread.

“Eat. First you eat, then you talk. Please?” You nodded, feeling slightly ashamed, he looked really concerned, they all did.

“So anyways, how did you guys meet? And, most importantly, how come an angel like you got herself tangled up with them”

James shoved lightly Regulus, who was grinning, while you nearly choked on your food.

“Leave the poor girl alone, will you? You already know everything about how they met her, her eyes were sparkling in the sun and she had this-“ At this, they all said in unison “pink sundress flowing lightly and her hair were put in a perfect ponytail”

You could feel your ears burning, the guys all smiling at your shyness.

[inblurtub]

lovingly siesta | a smau | part 2

pairing(s): youngest sister leclerc!reader x f1 grid (platonic), youngest sister leclerc!reader x lando norris

warnings: no face claim, age gap (25-18), protective charles leclerc, super softie pie lando, ooc

need part 1? click here!

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 25.485 others

yourusername while i were pluto-ing 🌌 midterms hit harder than i thought

view all 2.395 comments

user24 i have said it once and i’ll say it again, i missed her being little so much🥹 she is now a college girl with a boyfriend

user26 sis i think we go to the same uni—

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user29 listen to me, if he wasn’t lando then he couldn’t be anyone else

yourusername posted on their stories

↳ charles_leclerc ma princesse, i wish you all the best with lando, but if he ever hurt you don’t hesitate to tell your brothers. we’re gonna beat his ass real quick

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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 194.326 others

yourusername my fighter🫶🏻 what a wonderful race that was, start to think that i’m your lucky charm! tagged landonorris

comments on this post have been limited

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landonorris

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 467.289 others

landonorris just helped her in a song that she wrote about her sweetheart

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landonorris minions and none-minions people, be ready for “not-so-single era”

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[doitforbangchan]

honeyy, as you can see... i'm missing my people so much 😭 can we get jinnie - getting rid of the boys - and sneaking into omega's room to spend the night with her when channie's away, please? 🥹❤️

heheheh i love this idea it is very cute 😍thanx bb i hope you like it

ABANB Drabble 02

"This is a long grocery list, Hyune. Are you sure you need all of it?" Felix asked, looking at the texted list that Hyunjin had sent him.

*cough* " Yeah, m' sure. I need everything on that list to feel better." Hyunjin faked another cough, thankful that he was only speaking on the phone or else Felix would have seen the sly grin on the other betas face.

Everyone was out of the house right now. Felix, Jisung and Minho were out shopping, Changbin and Jeongin were at the gym,  Seungmin had gone to visit his family for the weekend and Chan had left this morning for a client meeting. That only left Hyunjin alone… With you. A rare moment he would not pass up on. Hyunjin had not had any time with his omega in what felt like centuries ( about 4 days) and he was beginning to go crazy. 

You were just getting over a cold, having spent too much time dancing in the rain with Jisung a few days prior. Jisung hadn’t gotten sick somehow but you weren’t so lucky. You were feeling much better now but still not one hundred percent so you (more like Minho) thought it better to rest a little more. Your cold gave Hyunjin the perfect cover- ‘somehow’ you had given him your illness so he just had to stay home today while everyone else ran errands. 

He added for good measure, “Plus, Baby would benefit from a lot of that stuff too.” 

That seemed to do it as he heard Felix hum in agreement. “I suppose so. Alright then we will grab it while we’re out, but we may be gone a little longer than usual. Are you gonna be ok taking care of yourself for a while?” 

*cough* “I think so.” He hid his snicker behind the cough. 

The phone was snatched out of Felix’s hand, a loud ‘HEY’ being heard then Minho’s voice rang through the phone. “Do not go bothering Baby while we’re out. She needs to recover and get her rest, and she can’t do that if you’re up her ass the whole time.” 

‘Oh if only you knew just how up her ass I can be, Minho’ Hyunjin thought snarkily. “I won’t. I Promise.” 

Minho scoffed and Hyunjin could imagine how the elder beta was rolling his eyes, “ Yeah right. Get some rest, Hyune.” 

Min had ended the call before he could respond, the line cutting with a quiet beep. Hyunjin pocketed his phone and stood from his place on the couch. The beta listened for any sign of life but heard nothing except the muffled voices coming from the tv in your nesting room where you were resting. He was giddy as he ascended the steps to the second floor, a fluttering in his stomach that he never grows old of was making him jittery and he couldn't fight the smile that lingered on his lips. 

Hyunjin approached your door and gave a tentative knock on the wood. He heard the tv pause and a light shuffle, then a quiet “Come in.” Your voice was still slightly scratchy. 

The beta slowly cracked the door open and peeping his head inside, his long hair swaying with the movement brought a little crackly giggle out of you. “Hi beautiful, how are you feelin’? He asked, taking in how cute you looked snuggled up in your nest.  

“Hi Jinnie. M’ feeling ok, still a little under but definitely better.” You replied, “What about you? Did I get you sick too?” 

He shrugged, “Ah a little, no big deal.” He faked another cough, turning away for a second. Hyunjin needed a way in and playing with your nurturing instincts was the way to go. You seldom let the boys enter your nest, only when you deemed it necessary. 

“Oh Jinnie I’m sorry! How about you come cuddle with me, maybe the body heat will help with your fever!” Bingo. 

*cough cough* “I can’t just invade your nest like that Baby. I’ll be ok.” *Sniffle* 

“Nonsense. You get your skinny little butt in here Hyunjin.” You waved him in with a stern look on your face. 

“Well, if you insist.” He wasted no time before shuffling over to you and flinging himself into your nest next to you. He cuddled up close when you wrapped your arms around him. 

You placed your lips softly upon his forehead, feeling a light fever in the warmness of his skin. “Hm you are warm. Lay down. I have some tea on the bedside- you should drink some, it will help your throat.” He wanted to swoon, even when you yourself were feeling bad you still took care of him in his ‘time of need’. You weren’t lying when you said you felt a fever on his skin though. 

“You’re the best, Baby. What are we watchin?” 

“Greys anatomy.” You picked up the remote and resumed the program. 

“Again? Haven’t you seen every episode like.. Four times?” 

“Shhhhhh” You hushed him, “This is a good part, their plane is about to crash.” 

You both settled in together, cuddled up watching the drama series with drooping eyes. That is where the other members of the pack found you later; both asleep wrapped around each other. Minho grumbled about Hyunjin being a liar and Felix giggled and took pictures to print out later. 

Hyunjin woke up a few hours later with a scratchy throat and a very real congestion in his nose.

Worth it.

©doitforbangchan

@jehhskz

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟓: 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

God Isn't Here

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Bad Boy Hongjoong wanted to change for you. Be the better man you deserved, but what if you ended up changing more than him?

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 :  3.70k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Slice of Life. Toxic family. Smut. ANGST. Sad Stuff.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: BadBoy!Hongjoong x Religious!GoodGirl!Reader

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : Heavy religious background. Mention of a cult like life. Lots of trauma. Pet names. Swearing. Corruption and slight manipulation. Thigh riding. Dry humping. Oral. Crying turned to sobbing. (I'm sorry this is a shit show). Fingering. Sight sir kink (I can't help myself). When I say this is messy....this is MESSY, FILTHY, DIRTY. Breast play. Clothing is literally being ripped apart. Slight ass play and mention of anal. Hickies. Mention of sex toys. There is way too much dirty talk cause Hongjoong has a filthy mouth. Use of the name slut. So much sobbing please forgive me I was in a mood. Cowgirl. Unprotected sex. Loss of virginity. Spanking.

Thank you, @historyinmybed , for requesting Hongjoong. Also, thank you to my anony for requesting the plot ♡♡♡

Note: I want to point out that this fic this is no way hating on any type of religion. I came from a very religious household, so I get the idea of internal hatred to yourself and 'god'. But please take this fic with a grain of salt. Believe what you want to believe and practise what you wish to practise. No one should tell you what you can or can not worship. That's your life. Not there's.

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Perfection. That was what your family described you as. Their perfect little daughter. Naturally pretty, above-average smarts and a people person. Well, that was what your parents dressed you as. They weren't half wrong to be fair. You wanted nothing more than to be the sweet daughter that your parents wanted. But once your heart fell for the mysterious man that stumbled in the back of your bookshop one day. Perfect was no longer the description to view you as.

Rough, mysterious, heartbreaking bad boy. He looked like he jumped straight out of a dark romance novel. He was everything you were not and when he laid eyes on you, he knew he wanted to know you, have you, hold you. To fuck the innocence out of you. But he proceeded with caution. Not wanting to scare you away. He was known as a player, someone that fucked around and partied most weekends…

Yet he changed.

Changed for you. He dotted on you. Followed you around like a loving puppy that found his favourite thing in the world. Which he had. You were his everything and the love of his life and he would do anything for you. And he made sure you knew that every chance he could. Bringing you flowers to your work or gifting you with a home-cooked meal even though he wasn’t the greatest cook. He wanted you to know that he loves you. Forever and always. And when you were cuddling on the couch in your shared apartment―the apartment your parents didn’t know you had―one night, Hongjoong couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. He tried not to do something you didn’t want but fucking his fist to the thought of you was no longer working. He needed the real deal. And tonight he tried his luck. His touches were slow, sensual. You almost didn’t notice them while you were so focused on the new show Fionna and Cake in front of you. But when his fingertips grazed the end of your sleep shorts, your head snapped to him seeing he was completely focused on you, not even paying attention to the TV.

You gulped looking at him with such wide innocent eyes. The tingle in your gut made you confused but it also intrigued you, wanting to know what it was but you were also scared it might be considered unholy. You see, you were fighting an inner battle. Yes, you had left your family's practice and ran away with Hongjoong after he convinced you of your family's toxic lifestyle. You wouldn’t ever consider your life being involved around a cult-like community but yet it was all you knew. And when you opened a bookshop in your hometown your parents made sure to monitor the shop like hawks but neither of them would have thought someone like Hongjoong would stumble into the doors of the sweet establishment. Without even realizing, that day you starting losing your faith in god, if you even had any. It was just a way of life to you and you didn’t know any better back then but now you explore the world day by day with your sweet lover boy and god definitely didn’t have anything to do with that.

“W-what are you doing?”  As if you couldn’t sound any more cute than you did right this minute. His eyes darkened, sucking in a breath as he watched you squirm. Your doe eyes watched him intensely, your hand snaking down to grab his, holding him still. Did you really not know what teasing was? Then again you didn’t know most things until he came along. When he first kissed you, he still remembers the shocked expression you made and how you slapped his chest slightly saying ‘We aren’t supposed to do that.’ But now all you do is kiss him. Morning kisses, hello and goodbye kisses. If you walked into the room he would grab you for a smooch. He loved kissing you and even though you would not admit it, you craved them too.

“I’m just wanting to touch you, Darling.” His soft voice sent shivers down your spine. You gulped, not knowing what exactly he meant. You gave him a confused expression, and it finally clicked in his head that you didn’t know what was going on. “Can I touch you, baby?”

You smiled letting his hand slip into your own, tilting your head “But you are touching me Joongie.”

Oh fuck, you look so goddamn cute and it made him want to pin you to the couch and fuck you into next week. He wanted, needed to teach you this side of life you didn’t know about. Take it slow, Hongjoong repeated to himself, placing his hand free hand on top of yours. He closed the distance between your lips but just kept enough space to let you pick whether or not to actually kiss him. And when you gave him a simple smile before sealing your soft lips on his, he took it as a green light to push you further.

“I mean touch sensually...” He peaked your lips again. “Touch you where the ache it.” He kissed the corner of your mouth as both of his hands got free, letting his finger graze your top thigh before slowly slipping towards your inner thigh. Your eyes never left his, eyebrows knotting in anticipation. Your brain was screaming at you, saying what you were about to do was sinful and bad. But your body craved to see what he could do. Could he really help take that ache that pulses in your stomach? The idea of giving yourself to Hongjoong more than frightened you… it excited you.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You didn’t mean to sound so seductive but Hongjoong drank every word you spoke. And the way you said it would have any man eating out of your hand, yet you didn’t even notice. Merely thinking you were simply asking an innocent question.

“Oh, Darling.” He dipped his fingers further up your thigh helping you open your legs without a thought, too focused on what Hongjoong might say. And he thought, for maybe two point five seconds on what he might say. Does he ease in and take it slow like his brain has been repeating for the past month or does he just drop his filter and see how you react?

He chose to fuck around and find out….

“I want to put my fingers deep inside your pussy.” Your eyes widened at the lewd words that spilled off your lover's tongue. “I want to know what it feels like to fuck you, make love to you.” His fingertips graze your covered core and it makes you jump, whimpering out. You gripped his wrist trying to stop him but you didn’t move him away, too curious to see what he’d do. “Would you let me see what your cunt feels like angel?”

“Y-you can't make l-love to me yet. We aren't married.” That was what you took out of his whole confession, man has got his work cut out for him. He had to laugh a low deep grumble making you shiver. His fingers were still playing with your covered core, trying to pull at the buttons of your pants. “We haven't decided if we want kids yet.”

“Kids?” Okay, now he was the one confused, “Who said anything about kids, darling?”

“Y-you know…” damn now you feel stupid, of course, this was another thing your parents taught you wrong. You tried to learn things on your own, only just recently finding out what a male privates were called. You felt so small in this outside world and you tried your hardest not to let Hongjoong see just how closed off you were growing up but sometimes it slips out, just like now. And the only way to get out of this was to explain yourself. “You only mate to have bare children. No pleasure or love… it’s a ritual that a married couple preform to conceive kids.”

Hongjoong tried to not look shocked but then again he really wasn't. When he found out you were living in cult-like conditions he did everything in his power to get you out of that situation whether you liked him to or not. He couldn’t just leave such a sweet thing like you to be devoured by the jaws of a sick bastard who played a so-called god. “My sweet, sweet baby. There is so much more to love-making than bearing children. Do you want me to show you?”

He gave you one last slow kiss, holding your cheek with his free hand keeping you in place. You sigh in the kiss, feeling a kind of relief and safety. All he wanted to do was keep you comfortable and not do anything you were unsure of. But now you wanted to give back. Give back to his kindness and understanding. You wanted to know, to know what it felt like to be with someone completely. But your mind kept playing the idea that you were betraying your god. You were fighting an inner battle and you didn’t know what to do. “Y-You can s-show me Joongie.”

He shifted his weight, turning to look at you straight on. He placed both hands on either side of your face before asking again. “I need you to say yes baby. Do you want this? Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You might have said that a little too quickly for your liking but Joong. Oh, he’d been waiting for this moment and it couldn’t be any more perfect. Grabbing your hips he pulls you up onto his lap. Your face was flustered a bright red. Your hands instantly gripped onto his shoulders as his own snakes under your loose top, feeling your bare tummy. He kisses you on your lips, then a peck on your cheek, then jaw. Before moving down to your neck. His hot tongue licked a long strip against your skin making you shiver, digging your fingers into his shirt. He chuckled feeling your hips wiggle, trying to subconsciously relieve the ache.  He held your hip with his right hand, helping you move slowly, letting you take control, for the moment. He wanted to ease you in, let you find your rhythm. “J-joongie I f-feel.”

“Feel what baby? What do you feel?” He pulled away to look at you, using his free hand to slowly move down your navel before landing just above your core. Your eyes stayed closed, rocking your hips slowly. Your clit was brushing against your jeans just right and it was sending your head into a spin. You didn’t know how to describe the feeling but it felt, good. Right, almost. And then he cupped your pussy making you jump.

“I feel hot… I think I-I’m sweating d-down….” You looked down, seeing his hand holding your core. He looked down to, knowing exactly what you were saying. Chuckling against he rubbed his two middle fingers along your covered slit.

“It’s not sweat Darling. It’s called cum. It comes out of you when you’re feeling good.” he continued to rub you making your mouth fall agape slightly. He leaned towards your ear kissing the top of your neck before whispering. “and it tastes delicious too. Can you give me a taste baby?”

You hesitantly nodded, “Yes, but is…” He looks at you in your wide eyes. “ W-what about g-gods way…”

“Fuck god. He doesn’t know a good thing if it was staring at him in the face.” His voice was laced with aggression. But his lips against your neck were soft, gentle. “Forget god, baby. It’s just you and me.”

You and me…. Something he has said to you since you met. Sneaking out he always said it was you and him against the world and the day you had packed your bag―with what little you had―and left while your parents were out you knew he’d be there for you. You still wonder if your parents even read the note you left them. But then again they most likely would have thrown it away, not caring for a sinner like you anymore. “I don’t know if I c-can…Hongjoong…”

He stopped. For a moment. Anger was surging through him. Your family fucked you up so much and all he wanted to was find each and every one of those preachers and kill them where they stood. He wanted to protect you, hold you. Love you. “Yes you can angel. You can do anything you want. You are so strong.”

And with that you kiss him, taking in a big breath in through your nose. He pulled away first making you chase his lips but as his body sinks onto the floor, you watch with curiosity. He sat on his knees, never breaking eye contact with you. His hands find the buttons on your jean shorts, helping you loosen them before ultimately slipping them off. Everything was happening so fast yet so slowly as well. your body was shaking, feeling exposed without your pants but as his gaze switched from yours to your core between your legs, you couldn’t help but whimper. “Hongjoong…”

“It’s okay baby I’m going to make you feel good. I promise.” He lent in pushing your panties to the sides and finally getting a good view of your soaked cunt. “Fuck, you are so pretty baby.” he wasted no time in licking a long strip along your folds making you make a high-pitched noise that was music to Hongjoong’s ears. He got to work, suckling, biting and tending to your core. You had thrown your head back against the couch, grabbing your lover's thick dark hair and spreading your legs wider for him without realizing. A strange feeling was brewing in your lower tummy and you couldn’t find the words to explain it. You were feeling all types of emotions, happiness, guilt, hatred, lust and everything in between. And then Hongjoong took his fingers against your core making you jump.

“Hongjoong, w-wait…” But your lover didn’t listen cause he knew you’d just start talking about god again. He needed you to listen to him and if words weren't going to work. Maybe a demonstration would. His mouth cages your clit while his finger begins to sink into you slowly and you felt electricity surge through you. Everything you did for your parents. The little girl that “raised right” was slowly slipping away and it was terrifying you. Tears started prickling down your face, feeling so good but so guilty at the same time. Why did your parents have to do what they did to you? Why couldn’t they have raised you normally? Were you could make your own mistakes. You hated them. You hated everything. Everything except Hongjoong. “G-god…”

You didn’t know what you wanted to say but you knew he wasn’t going to listen, in fact, he snapped instead making a chill pool inside you. “God isn’t her baby, now let me have my meal. Got that?”

“Yes sir…” You cried, feeling him put another finger inside you.

“Fuck say that again…” He groan against your clit.

“S-Sir…” You obeyed, feeling his fingers thrusted in a harsh pace making you scream out, tears pouring out of you more and more with your mouth spilling out saliva onto your chin.

“That’s right baby. This is my pussy yeah? I get to play with her―Fuck her whenever I want. Do you understand?” He chuckled, nibbling on your puffy nub.

“Y-yes sir. Please, have me whenever you’d like. I’ll be good. I promise. Fffuuck!!” You’ve never sworn before but it felt like a word needed for this occasion. A band in you snapped, feeling yourself clench around Joong’s fingers. He slowed down until he came to a stop, but not pulling his fingers out just yet. He had to see your face, the way your nose scrunched up when his thumb pressed firmly on your clit and fingers slowly slipping from inside you helping your ride out. Hearing you swear was single-handedly the sexiest thing you could do. He stood up quickly, grabbing your wrist so he could pull you up making you stand. But your legs didn’t want to work so he hand to hold you up.

“Don’t worry baby. You’re always good baby. My sweet girl.” he pecked your nose making you smile. He rubbed away some of your tears with his left thumb. You both stood there for a moment letting you catch your breath. But without you noticing he undid his belt and jean buttons, shaking his jeans off. You only then noticed when a hard object poked your tummy. Looking down you see his appendage under his boxers. You had to gulp worried as to how it might fit inside you. He licked his lips watching you inspect him, he had no shame, slipping his thumb under the band of his boxer before pulling it down, letting his cock spring free.

You gasped seeing his dick whack his navel. Its red angry tip leaking out some pre-cum and twitching just at the thought you’d touch it. You looked back at his eyes with wide doe eyes, almost silently asking what was going to happen next. He swung you both around so his back was facing the couch before taking a seat on it. He pulled you along letting you take a seat on his lap. The feeling of his hot cock against your pussy made you clench around nothing. Your nerves were shot and you were shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Ready?” He simply asked, snaking his hands under your top tugging on the fabric slightly. You nodded, answering with a small yes before he took the end of your shirt and ripped it down the middle. You gasped, moaning without thinking. Your chest was suddenly exposed to him, leaving you completely bare for him. He had a sadistic smirk painting his features, leaning down he licked your left nipple making you whimper out his name. Your hands found his shoulders, letting him attack your chest with harsh red and purple marks. His hands that layed on your hips moved behind you. One grabbed a hand full of your ass while the other one glided toward your asshole. He put pressure against your hole and it made you wiggle in his grasp. He lived for your reaction.

“Sensitive Doll? I wonder what I would feel like to fuck this tight little ass too? Hmm.” His dirty words made you feel filthy in the best way. His thumb slipped into your puckered hole for a moment sending a new feeling through your system. Anything he did was pushing your buttons correctly. It was like he knew your body better than you did. “You’re just a dirty girl, aren’t you? Wanting to be fucking in the ass? Bet I could fuck this pussy while I have a pretty dildo up your ass. Hmm. Would you like that? You want to be my little slut?”

“I-I’m not dirty…I..I..” You didn’t know what to say feeling conflicted in his words. But he couldn’t care, your body was reacting perfectly to his words and that’s all he needed.

“Don’t worry baby. I’ll fuck you nice and full. And then we can go shopping. I plan on showing you all the pleasure you’d been missing out on.” his laugh was lewd, almost cruel sounding and you couldn’t help but moan in response. He lifted you up slowly without you taking much notice, only focusing on his finger thrusting in your asshole softly. It was only when a sharp pain started forming in your front you snapped your eyes open looking down.

“F-fuck…Hongjoong!!” he helped you sink down slowly until you had him completely nestled inside your aching cunt. You were crying again. But it was different this time. The pain was only slight, you actually didn’t mind the pain. But it was the value of what you had just done. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you sobbed. Crying from all the frustration. All the anger you had against your parents. Against your community. You had now completely turned your back on the god you once worshipped. All your life learning certain things was for nothing.

“Shhhh. It’s okay.” he rubbed your back, feeling a tingle in his gut. God, you felt so good, your pussy was clenching him perfectly but he felt sorry for you. You had lived only one way and he came in and changed your life in a blink of an eye and it wouldn't had been easy one bit for you.

He had made a promise to himself that night. While his hips started to move and your body started to stutter with him. While his lips were on yours or sucking sharply on your neck. While his hands smacked your plump ass helping you ride his cock at a desperate pace. And when he bent you over the edge of the couch so he could fuck you from behind while you creamed all over his cock for the fourth time. He was going to love you, now and forever. He was going to teach you new things every day and always make sure you were the best version of yourself. And he was going to also fuck you in every room of this house…

That last part might of just been more for his sake but it’s the thought that counts.

- ♥︎

[hamiltonaf]

Hi bestie, can i request how lewis would help you when you have insomnia? Mine is really a pain in the ass this week, could use a distraction

Night Owl | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello loves ! Apologies for the delay in writing requests…I fell really ill over the week and was so out of writing :( but I’m back. Thanks anon for requesting, I hope you enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

Another night that I found it hard to sleep. It was like this for over a week because of stress and anxiety. I don’t even have anything to stress about, it’s just how my mind works when my brains thinks I have so much to do and I won’t complete everything I want to do in time.

It wasn’t that big of a deal to sleep at early hours of the morning all alone because I didn’t have Lewis with me so I’d wake up late. However, now that Lewis is around, I feel the need to sleep and wake up at a normal time so that we could do more things together as a couple since I hardly see him anyway.

Once in a while I’ll experience an adrenaline rush in the middle of the night and I’m so full of energy, I could literally eat a whole meal, probably even host my own fake concert and I still wouldn’t be tired till around 4 or 5am.

I joined Lewis and his family for the start of the summer break before Lewis was off on his boys trip. I was over the moon to see Lewis after a whole 2 weeks. Doesn’t seem that long but felt like a lifetime for me.

We spent the day with the family catching up and playing with Kaiden and Willow. We played countless rounds of Uno and spent most of our time out in the sun. Watching Lewis with kids and spending time with him had me thinking about him leaving on his boys trip soon - anxiety trigger because the thought of us being apart again soon.

I swear I’m not selfish… we video call everyday and I physically see him every weekend or every second weekend, but with our schedules clashing I can’t even spend time with him when I’m free because I’m working. Race weekends also fly by so quickly, before you know it, it’s already Sunday and I’m on a flight back home whilst he takes a flight to another race.

I just would’ve wanted to spend some more time with him during this summer break and it could make up for the lost time.

I didn’t even realise I was daydreaming until Lewis snapped his fingers in front of me. “We’re at the hotel… you’ve been so quiet for the past 15 minutes. Is everything okay ?” He asked softly. “Oh yeah. Uhm everything is fine… don’t worry” I faked a smile and exited the car. He followed behind me back to our room, it was quite evident to Lewis that I wasn’t my usual self. When we reached our room, he grabbed me by my hand and pulled me flush against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay ? You seem off. Is something bothering you ?” He raised a brow.

“I’m fine really” I gave him a soft smile then pecked his cheek. Just as I was about to leave his grasp, he held me tighter. “Babe I can literally tell when you’re lying. You pull that fake smile on me when something is bother you” he pointed out. I immediately felt embarrassed. “What ? No” I scoffed and giggled. “And you do that as well” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay well I’m not in the mood to discuss it right now, maybe later” I trailed as I pecked his lips and walked over to the bathroom. I had a shower and to my surprise, Lewis had fallen off to sleep. I on the other hand was full of energy, but might as well try to sleep.

I got into bed and cuddled up close to him. In hopes I would fall off to sleep, unfortunately I was too restless and ended up turning from side to side. I know he’s a light sleeper and I felt bad at the thought of him waking up because of me. A whole hour of trying to sleep and I gave up. I jumped out of bed and went to our lounge to watch something to pass some time. About half and hour into the movie, I got a shock when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

The movie I was watching had me in a depresso mode where I was bawling my eyes out. “Oh my- love are you okay ?” He asked concerned. “Oh my god. Babe you scared me” I screamed as I placed a hand on my heart. “Didn’t mean to scare you, if anything, you scared me… why did you leave me alone in bed ?” He pouted as he jumped over the couch to sit right next to me. “I can’t sleep” I sighed. “No worries, I can help” he smiled. “Lew it’s not one of those nights where I randomly can’t sleep, I have insomnia. It’s much harder to sleep when you’re an insomniac” I pouted and laid my head on his shoulder. “Well what’s keeping my girl up ? You didn’t tell me earlier, I wanna hear it from you now because I’m concerned” he said as he turned to look at me.

“Okay don’t take this the wrong way. My brain overthinks the smallest of things, when normally I couldn’t care. We’ll blame it on some chemical reaction on my brain, maybe lack of serotonin I think-“ he cut me off. “Babe. You’re rambling. Calm down. Deep breaths and tell me straight up how you’re feeling” he smiled as he cupped my face. “Look, you know how much I love you and it hurts me how little we see each other. My mind for some odd reason isn’t its normal self because all my mind thinks about is how little time we actually spend together …” I said embarrassed. “Look I’m all for you going on your boys trip, but I had to be honest with what’s on my mind” I gave him a soft smile.

“Aww baby you’re so cute. You want me all to yourself ?” He smirked and raised a brow. “Low-key yes, but no” I said as I then slapped my forehead in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry that sounds so dumb” I covered my whole face with my hands. “Darling, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he said as he pulled my hands away from my face and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I’m just glad you’re honest with me. Sorry babe for hurting you, why didn’t you tell me sooner ?” He cooed. “I thought it was stupid and I was just being dumb” I shrugged.

“Never. Your feelings are valid, always. Consider me all yours for the rest of the summer” he smiled as he pulled me in for a short kiss. “Wait, what ? Lew no ! You can’t not go on your boys trip” I argued. “This is not a debate love” he grinned. “But Lew, you can’t not-“ “End of discussion. Let’s go” he cut me off as he stood up and carried me in his arms towards our bedroom.

“Now I definitely won’t sleep, you’re making me feel awful as if I’m holding you back which I’m really not. My mind is just racing at the thought of how quickly time is going and how we’re barely together, this has nothing to do with your mates by the way because I think they’re all amazing. My brain is just not braining these past few days” I pouted as he laid me in bed and jumped in to cuddle me closer to him.

“Babe just don’t worry about it, that’s the least of my concerns right now” he said as he nuzzled his face into my neck. “Lew !” I groaned. “You need to sleep and I’m doing my best to help put an end to your insomnia” he smiled into my neck as he snaked an arm around my waist. He placed soft kisses along my shoulders before turning me around in his grasp. “I really love you” he smiled. “I really love you too Lew Lew” I felt my cheeks flush as he pulled my face closer and connected our lips.

I felt so at ease in his embrace knowing he’s right with me after quite a while of being apart. I guess all I needed was a goodnight kiss.

[heartthrobin]

paint my sunset peach (1)

mechanic!eddie munson x farmgirl!reader

wc: 6.71k

warnings: reader is a little bit of a meanie, dirty sweaty eddie, hella pining, sunshine!eddie + grumpy!reader, swearing but otherwise pretty wholesome, limited use of y/n

an: i started writing this literally months ago and only finished it recently, super duper proud of it :))) this will be part one of a (probably) three part series. let me know if you want a tag in part 2 !!! i tried to tag all those who liked this post so thanks for the support - love you all <33

summary: the conveyer belt of mech-heads you dealt with on a weekly basis were nothing more than a side-show annoyance. but god, the auto-shop had never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

part two

Before the auto-shop, on the corner at the intersection of Lovett and Harwood, was a Chinese restaurant.

The Red Lotus.

On Friday nights as a kid, daddy would drive into town and return with a steaming white bag of fried rice and dumplings. Sometimes, when they had in stock, he'd bring a single mooncake to share between him and you.

It was family run, the Zhou's. Three sons and a daughter.

They closed down right after you graduated, tired of the middle of nowhere-ness. The tractors rumbling loudly through town at six o' clock every morning, the shaky cell reception and the incessant knock of evening frogs on the porch.

Tired of butt-fuck nowhere Tennessee.

It stood empty for two years. Sometimes you'd pass it in your truck and remember them, other times you wouldn't even look.

But now, now it stood as a brand new garage. Or at least the tiny town's excuse for "brand new".

Daddy's friend, Mister Carl Abernathy, owned it.

He was a short stocky man, bald all over and you'd never seen him without a cold bottle of cider and the remnants of it’s sweat staining down his creased button-up.

You knew that only because he was always around: lots of things on the farm needed fixing up.

Weeds crept up into the tires of the tractors, age beat at the truck you used to move in and out of town - crates of peaches bouncing jovially over each bump.

Every time they needed a looking at, Carl would send over the bonehead of the week.

The same white pull-up would brake loudly outside the farmhouse door, always somewhere around nine: just in time to disturb your breakfast, and one of his latest recruits would hop out.

They’d lean haughtily against the large wheel of the dying blue tractor.

"Well, looks like we've got a problem on our hands here, hey little missy?"

They weren’t even worth the effort it took to roll your eyes. No shit.

The farm didn't make nearly enough from the weekend markets in bigger nearby towns, or the pennies of the townsfolk to afford new vehicles. So, you stuck it out with each caveman Carl sent your way.

And you were fine with it.

Mostly fine with it.

Sure, some of them were vulgar: they'd whistle at you or comment on your ass when you passed them working. Others could only succeed at making the vehicle worse than when they'd started, but it was your job to sort them out.

Could you have gone off with your high school friends to college? Sure.

Maybe.

But that’d leave Daddy all alone in that big house. You pushed away the thought when it surfaced to bug you.

Your mother had disappeared long before you knew her, exhausted - like the Zhou's - of being nowhere.

Maybe of being no one. Perhaps of being a no one peach farmer with the grump that was your daddy and a toddler zooming at her feet.

Either way, it didn't matter.

She had left and you remained to do the job, and that job included dealing with Carl’s mechanics.

At least it hadn't mattered, not until some morning in late summer.

The sun watched from high over the green farmhouse. It glared down, peeking over the edge of the porch.

You were fixed on the bird pecking at the already deteriorating grey window pane above the sink, overlooking the rows of colourful fields.

"You're messing, Cherry."

Cherry. Daddy had been calling you that since as far back as you could remember him talking.

You glanced at him across the table, where the spread of bread, eggs and jam had been lain, before you noticed where a long stripe of strawberry jam had run down the front of your black tank top.

"Listen now, you're gonna be fine with the tractor today?"

His voice was stern - probably too stern for such an hour of the morning, but you hardly noticed - swiping at the jam with your finger and nodding.

"No problems, alright?"

Daddy usually worked the tractor, but he was going to some meeting two towns over. He hadn't mentioned what about, but you were sure it had to do with the crippling financial state of the farm.

You nodded.

It's how you found yourself alone out in the heat of the midday sun.

The tractor rumbled beneath you, joggling over every rock and mole hill.

Every couple meters, you'd stop: climb off and pick at the peaches before tossing them into the crate. When enough crates were full, you'd load them onto the truck and move again.

You'd been at it, burning over your arms and shoulders, for what couldn’t have been more than a few hours when the tractor gave a sickening jolt.

Gripping the wheel and watching in horror over the edge of your sunglasses, your eyes followed the thick cloud of grey smoke where it began seeping out at the edges of the hood and disappearing up into the sky.

"No, no, no ..." you drew up the handbrake and leapt out the side onto the soil. The blue metal scalded the tips of your fingers where you threw the bonnet open before swallowing down mouthfuls of hot smoke.

It took five minutes of coughing against the side of the vehicle, another five kicking at the left wheel and at least another ten swearing at the sky before you dug your phone out from between the seats and dialled the number to Carl's auto shop.

It rung three times before his gruff voice carried across the line, "Abernathy Auto Repairs speakin', hello?"

"Good morning Mr Abernathy," your fingers pressed into the sides of your temple, working fruitlessly against the headache forming there. "I'm calling from the farm down Jasmine road—"

"Oh hey there, darlin'. What can I do you for?"

A squirrel rustled somewhere down the row of bushes. "Well, I'm out in the field now and the tractor has ... uh, given up on me. The ‘63. Need one of your men to come give it a start, or a look-over or—"

"Not a problem, not a problem at all. Are you far out? Whereabouts are you?"

You cupped a hand to shield up over your eyes, glancing back from whence you'd came. The house was but a speck of green in the distance.

"About two or three miles north west of the house?"

You could practically hear him nodding, a steady gulp audible against the line.

"Don't you worry about a thing, little darlin', I'll have one of my boys out there within the hour. Just hang tight."

"Alright, thank you kindly sir—"

But the line was already dead.

You glared at the phone.

Huffing loudly, you pulled yourself back up onto the truck - allowing the soft shade to gently graze over your face as you sunk back into the seat.

The warm wind rippled over the tops of the rows of greenery and you watched quietly, the irritation simmering to a low boil in your chest.

There was a quiet tranquility in being so far out from the house, shielded from the scorch.

Your boot tapped rhythmically against the console. Warm breeze brushed over your face again and you sighed, tilting your hat lower over your forehead. The lull of the quiet field allowed your lashes to fan closed over your cheeks. Before you’d taken note of the bird coming to perch on the roof, you were already asleep.

It was the loud rumble of an engine and the throbbing pain in your neck that brought you back to the world of the conscious.

You woke with a jump. Heart thumping against your ribcage in instant confusion. Your hat flew off your head and over the edge of your seat from where it had been blocking the light over your eyes.

Bringing a hand to your neck you whined loudly, the angle you’d been perched at doing nothing for the long term preservation of your muscles there.

You turned anyways, noticing the white pick-up quickly nearing from the direction of the house.

Frowning, you glanced down at time against the console. Three fifty-eight.

"Shit!"

You stuck your head out from under the shade of the tractor top to notice how low the sun has sunk in the sky. It was almost reaching the head of the hill in the distance.

The mechanic shouldn't have taken longer than an hour to find you, and subsequently, wake you. You quickly diffused yourself of blame.

Daddy was going to kill you.

Clambering off the side of the tractor, your hands found your hips before the car pulled to a wailing halt barely a few centimetres off from your knees.

Dust swept up around the truck, obscuring the view of the man that stepped out of it.

"Woah. Almost hit you there, doll."

Warm wind cleared the air and the figure of a young man stood in your field.

The words sitting on your tongue begging to be spat out were sucked straight back down your throat.

For a moment you forgot what you had planned to say at all.

The man's eyebrow cocked at you under strands of dark, curly hair falling carelessly from the skew bun atop his head.

Behind you, a crow cried in the distance. Your senses quickly returned to you.

Your fists tightened at your sides. "Where on god's green earth have you been?"

He looked taken aback.

"Well, I had some trouble finding the house," he smiled sheepishly, motioning to the farmhouse over his shoulder, "and then I had to phone Carl cause he didn't really tell me where—"

"So you're new then? Carl sent a greenie to come fix my tractor?"

Anyone who'd spent more than three days in town knew the farm down Jasmine road. Knew your farm.

A heavily ringed hand came up to his jaw, rubbing there and eyeing you in a way that made the hair on your arms stands straight up.

It was painfully unfair how handsome he was.

"New to town. Not new to fixing tractors." His voice was smooth, the curl of a grin peaking at you from the edge of his mouth.

Sucking in a deep breath - a feeble attempt at composure - you nodded once.

"Well, I've got a tractor and it's broken. And you're two hours late, so if you don't mind, I've got a job to do."

You turned violently on your heel, sure if you stood under his gaze any longer that you'd melt right against the soil.

The sound of the peaches tumbling out the crate onto the tractor split the air between you and him, and soon you were marching away from his figure - crate in hand - in pursuit of fruit further down the lane.

"I'm Eddie!"

You waved vaguely over your shoulder, electing not to bless him with an answer.

Carl was going to hear an earful from your father, you were sure of it. You plucked angrily at the fruits off the bush, tossing them a little too violently in with the rest.

It was quiet from the distance behind you, but you refused to turn to look.

Sure, you shouldn't be so surprised that one of Carl's idiots was nearly two hours late and got lost in a town that really only has two roads, but god, he'd never sent one with such round, wet brown eyes before.

The walk was long, each stop causing the crate to become heavier, and you worked hard to put the image of the mechanic’s black shirt - that he'd obviously cut the sleeves off himself - and how it clung to his chest with sweat out of your mind.

You didn't stop until a voice called from behind. At first it was soft, but it grew louder within a minute: as was the sound of footfalls.

"Hey, miss!"

He was jogging towards you, pieces of hair falling recklessly out from the grips of his hair tie to frame his red face.

Eddie only stopped when barely a few feet separated you.

"All done." He grinned, huffing around his smile. "She just overheated a bit, needed some water and a a couple valves disconnected."

You couldn't tell whether it was harder to hold his gaze or work to keep yours off of his chest.

"Right. Good." You nodded, leaning to lift the crate at your feet. "Then I'll be getting back to it."

It was heavy, almost too heavy if you hadn't lifted boxes like those from sunrise to sunset for the last eighteen or so years.

But the mechanic was clearly unconvinced, he swooped in closer to you. "Let me get that—"

"I'm fine—"

"No really." By now he was way too close, close enough that you could smell the undertones of a shower gel or maybe a cologne.

His voice softened, "Please. To make up for my tardiness."

It was hard to tell whether it was the sun making you so dizzy or his proximity, but either way, it forced you to nod slowly. "Fine."

Eddie took the crate from your hands, you ignored the rush of heat to your stomach as he grunted against the weight.

"Strong thing aren't you, doll?"

You didn't respond, eyes fixed on the giant blue tractor a couple meters from where you stood.

Silence rung, only the footfalls filling the space. You'd almost made it all the way back to the tractor without conversation before the mechanic decided to open his mouth again.

"I don't think I caught your name earlier."

You met his eyes, regretting it almost immediately when your knees threatened to buckle, "That's because I never gave it."

Stepping just close enough to take the crate from his grip, but avoid the drift of his cologne again, your hands brushed closely against his.

They were cool against your sweaty ones.

He was grinning again.

You stepped back, balancing the peaches against your hip before tilting it over the box attached to the end of the tractor allowing the round pink pieces to clatter down into its depths.

"Right. Well, what's your name then doll?"

But you were already clambering back up the side of the tractor into the worn leather seat.

"Wouldn't you like to know, pretty boy."

He was leaning against the side of the truck now, you avoided looking down at him, something told you that you'd find those eyes blinking right up into your soul again if you did.

"So you think I'm pretty?"

Hot red blush chased up the sides of your neck over your ears, you prayed it wasn't discernible under the pink sunburn.

The keys jingled loudly as you slid them into the ignition and turned them violently. The vehicle jerked to life.

"I think your job is done. Good afternoon sir."

Before he could say another word, your foot had sunk down on the accelerator and the tractor was rumbling back down between the bushes again.

In your peripheral vision you watched how the mechanic stumbled back against his pick-up, narrowly avoiding catching his foot under one of the hundred pound tires, and the sound of an echoing chuckle fading as you plodded away.

-

The drive back to the auto-garage was quick. At least quicker than the drive Eddie had taken to find the farm.

His hands tightened around the wheel, twisting over the leather as he pulled to a park in the open spot across the street.

A ring of brown soil stared up at him from where he'd pulled at the handbrake with dusty paws.

"Shit ..." he wiped his hands down the jean over his thighs.

Eddie was used to the oil and the reek of grease, as if that wasn't already enough, but not the itch of farm soil up his nostrils and behind his ears.

He twisted the metal ring around his finger, a small grin playing at his lips.

But the soil wasn't so bad, he reckons he'd swim through a pool of it it to get another chance to watch the hot-tempered farm girl's hips sway when she marched away from him, just as you'd done earlier that afternoon.

The smile didn't leave his face as he climbed out the car, locked it and crossed the street whistling.

Eddie was almost completely used to the whir of the drills echoing off the walls and barely registered the creak of the lever that was raising a car near the back of the shop.

Carl was leaning over the reception desk clinking the bottom of his cider bottle against the wood and puffing on the end of a cigarette.

He waved vaguely down at the open ledger when he noticed Eddie nearing, "See here, extra two hundred dollars on a cheap fucking knock off for that AMC Eagle. You believe that, Munson?"

"Hardly, boss."

Eddie was halfway back to where he'd abandoned the engine on a red convertible before weaving across town to find a farm when the boss' voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold it, hold it. Where’ve you been? Didn't I send you outta here three hours ago?" He swivelled on the bar stool against the counter to face him.

The greasy palm that had been picking it's way under car hoods all afternoon reached up to rub against the side of his neck. "I couldn't find that fucking farm, did three circles ‘round the post office before I saw the sign for Jasmine road."

Carl surveyed him with a crooked brow. "They didn't teach you to read maps down in Indiana, boy?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He was about to turn back on his way, when the picture of your face glimmered at him behind his eyes, "Listen boss, the girl there. The daughter you said, what's her name?"

By then, Carl had already turned back down to the accounts. "What's it to ya?"

Silence rung long enough that Carl peeked back up at Eddie over the rim of his glasses.

Eddie shrugged bashfully. "Pretty thing."

Carl threw his head back, laughing loudly - Eddie always thought his laugh sounded like a dog barking.

"I've seen that look." He shook his head, lifting to perch his glasses on his shining bald head. "Too many of you boys come back from that farm starry-eyed. No hope with that princess, she don't like you mech-heads. Nope, not one bit."

"Ah, come on, don't you believe in love at first sight?"

Carl let off another crumbly chuckle, "Bit your head off, didn't she?"

"Sure did." He beamed like the cat that caught the canary, "Love it when a lady talks to me sweet."

A sweaty hand shrugged him off.

"Get back to work, Munson."

But Eddie wavered. "Just a name, boss."

Carl stared at him for a couple moments, clearly bored. It took a long slug of the yellow cider and a hard sigh before he spoke again: "Y/n."

The grin crept back up his cheeks. He tested the name on his tongue, finding it to taste as sweet as he knew it would.

"Appreciate it."

"Get back to that convertible before I fire you."

-

Eddie the mechanic had been firmly put out of your mind following the ruckus out in the field.

Sure, his puppy dog face had returned to you later that night as you lay in bed, but that hardly counted.

You'd forgone mentioning his tardiness to Daddy, electing to take the mild scolding instead.

By the time the end of the week had arrived, you'd just about completely forgotten the floppy haired man that had once graced the farm.

That was until Daddy rose the topic of the auto-body shop again.

He handed you the wet plate, you took it carefully - starting to wipe it down. The water sloshed beneath his hands, scrubbing hard at the soapy pan.

Bullseye watched up at you from where she was curled up on the kitchen chair, purring loudly. Outside the sky was turning deep lilac and the crickets were clicking loudly.

"Tomorrow on your way back from Madeline's, I want you to stop by Carl's."

Madeline's was the local - and only - grocer. You dropped five cases there every Tuesday.

Your hand stilled against the plate, "For?"

"I want you to ask him to spare a man, a good one. Just a couple afternoons a week to do some work."

Your father handed the next plate over carefully.

Confusion tugged at your brow, "Work? What work?"

"You're too curious for your own good, y'know that?"

Bumping your shoulder against his, the pot lid almost slipping from his wet fingers, you laughed. "Don't be difficult, what for?"

The old man sighed.

Some nights, with the evening hue seeping in through the window against his face like it was just then, you were reminded of how old he really was.

"I want to fix up the Cobra."

In the barn around the back of the house, sitting untouched and unmoved for almost twenty years, lived a 1965 AC Cobra.

The steel lid slipped from your hands, clattering against the floor. Your father jumped.

"You're fixing the Cobra!" You grabbed him by the arm, eyes wide in delight. "Is it for me?"

He offered a half-hearted stern look at you, leaning to pick up the lid before straightening out.

"Don't get too excited, she's a real piece of work and we don't know if she can even still be revived."

You tugged at the edge of his shirt, "But ... it's for me, right?"

"Well, your twenty-first is coming up and I thought you're old enough now—"

Just about strangling him, your arms flew up over his neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you—!"

He sighed over your shoulder, patting your back with a wet hand. “Alright, alright. Just speak to Carl.”

-

Your drop-off at Madeline's had never gone faster.

Town was busy, as busy as it got on a Tuesday morning, and Abernathy's was no different.

You pulled into a spot down the line of other nearly identical pick-ups to your own in front of the shop.

At the front desk, where you were sure he'd grown roots into the stool behind it, sat Carl Abernathy.

When he looked up from a piece he'd been tinkering with, surprise twisted at his features.

"G'morning darlin'," he set the piece down, puffing around a lit cigarette, "What can I do you for on this fine morning?"

"Good morning sir," you set your hat on the counter, leaning beside it. "My daddy sent me, he's asking if you could spare a man for some work 'round by ours. Couple nights a week."

The little man's eyes screwed at you.

"What, may I ask, will he be expected to do?"

By then you couldn't stifle the grin any longer.

"He's gonna be fixing the Cobra."

The response seemed to delight the man as much as it did yourself, because he laughed loudly and slammed a hand down against the wooden desk.

"Your old man finally found some sense, hey?" He jeered, "I'm mighty pleased to here that, little miss, I really am."

You smiled, "It's my birthday gift. Twenty-first coming up."

"Twenty-one, hey? Well, I've got just the boy. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it."

Carl leaned dangerously back on the stool, you fleetingly wondered how he didn't topple over, before yelling over his shoulder into the depths of the shop.

"Munson! Get your up-to-no-good-ass over here!"

Not to say that you'd completely forgotten him, but you were still more than a little taken aback when the tall framed mechanic from a few days before emerged from under the hood of a pick-up.

"Boss—?" His eyes found you. They lit up like main street over Christmas. "Oh, what a pleasant surprise. Morning, doll."

Grease covered every inch of his arms up to his elbows which held the scrunched up ends to the black long sleeve he was wearing. He was dirtier than last you saw him and it made your stomach swoop dangerously.

"Him?" It slipped out before you had time to catch it.

But Carl didn't comment on your rudeness, instead he slapped a heavy hand over Eddie's shoulder and shook it.

"For sixty's models, this is your boy for the Cobra." The older man beamed at him, like he was telling you his son was a heart surgeon. "Hands like a magician I tell you."

The comment sent a icy chill down the back of your spine, it wasn't helped when the mechanic snapped a wink at you from under his boss' hand.

"R-Right, well, you can come by as soon as you want to start working. A couple hours a day, my daddy will pay you."

With his hair clipped back, you could make a clearer assessment of his face as he nodded to you. He had thick lips and a strong-set nose.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, doll."

The cheekiness in his grin was plucking at a nerve behind your eyebrow. "Think you'll be able to find your way this time?"

"I think I'll be fine." His hands sunk into the depths of his jean pockets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Left at the butchery and right down the road to my heart."

You scoffed, turning back to Carl. "Thanks Mr Abernathy. I'll let my old man know."

Not even sparing Eddie another glance, you grabbed your hat off the counter and turned on your heel back to the car.

He watched your hair sway under the press of the brown hat and where your wide shoulders glistened in the light beneath the straps of your overalls.

Only when the sound of your engine had disappeared down the street, did he turn back to Carl who was digging the end of a screwdriver into a metal plate.

"You're really an old romantic aren't you, boss."

Carl grumbled, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Eddie shook his head, chuckling delightedly, "Psh, "sixty's models"! As if Jacob couldn't get that Cobra running in a couple days."

Pulling another cider noisily out from the cooler he kept at his feet, Carl guffawed. "I sure hope it's gonna take you more than a few days, lover boy, cause that little miss doesn't seem too fond 'a you I can tell you now."

But Eddie wasn't fazed, "Don't worry, she will be."

-

Sure as the sun rose in the sky, two o' clock rolled around the next afternoon and a noisy white pick-up pulled into park in front of the green farmhouse.

"Cherry! The mech's here!"

You'd grumbled, reluctantly pulling yourself out from where you'd been perched under the cool shade of the back porch repainting worn pots.

Eddie was standing lost in the driveway when you found him.

He was dirty, obviously just from the shop, and you offered something short of a warm welcome, but he seemed unfazed.

"Car's in the barn 'round the back of the house."

"Well good afternoon to you too, miss." You wondered if his smirk had been permanently stitched there.

The toolbox rattled with each step he took after your pacing figure.

As promised, the barn stood nearly as tall as the house in a faded orange hue.

It was dark inside and the door creaked loudly where you'd swung it open.

There she sat in all her glory. The 1965 AC Cobra, in a fitting cherry red.

Eddie whistled lowly over your shoulder behind you.

"A damn shame hiding this beaut up in this dusty barn." He passed you, running his hand over the bonnet that glimmered even in the low light.

We can agree on one thing at least, you thought.

"I've got to go finish up," you motioned over your shoulder, "but, uh, if you need anything I'll be around. Just shout."

You'd already caught the edge of the door, halfway out, when his voice stopped you in your tracks.

"And what is it exactly that I should I shout, doll? Seeing as you still haven't told me your name."

You surmised him, considering only momentarily letting your name spill off your lips.

Hm. Not today.

"Doll works just fine, greenie."

Finishing off the pots was easy, quick. They stood lined up against the bannister drying while you busied yourself in the vegetable patch behind the house: twisting carrots and beetroots out from the dark soil as the sun sunk slowly lower in the sky.

The time had hardly occurred to you when the back door swung open, your father sticking his one foot down the step.

Keys to the pick-up dangled in his hand.

"Cherry, I'm running to Madeline's for some wood glue and another bag of nails. Need anything?"

Swiping an itch on your forehead with the back of your hand, wiping a long black stripe there, you shook your head. "Nothing."

"Right," he nodded and the door was already halfway shut when he tossed it open again. "Oh, and go make that boy a bite to eat. Damn skinny thing's been in that hot barn for hours now."

You sagged your shoulders childishly, voice coming out as a whine. "Must I really?"

"Yes, you must really."

And he was gone.

The fridge was a ghost town, spare for the never-ending supply of fruit and vegetable that lived in the bottom drawer.

Following five minutes of pursing your lips and staring into its depths, you conjured up a lettuce, cucumber tomato and sweet-chilli sandwich. It didn't take long to convince yourself into making another to satiate your own complaining stomach.

You hummed as you worked, pouring cool lemonade into two glasses, packing the food back into the fridge and rinsing off the butter knife.

The tall clock chimed jovially from the hallway when you shuffled out the back, two plates and two glasses in hand.

Your hip nudged open at the barn door and a wave of sweltering heat rushed over your face and between every tendril of hair on your head.

Blinking foggily into the dim sauna that was the barn, you were met with the only slightly browned back of one Eddie Munson.

The man was hunched over, head lost in the depths of the car's stomach and when he straightened out you just about swallowed your tongue.

His long black mane was in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck and his shirt had been abandoned somewhere by the right tire. Sweat was sliding down the side of his face like an open faucet.

"Hey," he smiled when he met your eyes, voice groggy and tired. The sound made the plates wobble under your grip.

"Hi—" you cringed internally, it was the most pleasant greeting you'd offered him so far. Why had it come out so ... awkward?

You motioned down to the plates, as if his eyes hadn't already found them. "I made you a sandwich ... didn't know if you were hungry or—"

The wrench flew from his grip down into the box where he tossed it and Eddie sighed. "Starving."

You handed him the plate, watching how his blackened fingers stained the edge of the plate and the rim of the glass.

He sat carefully down against an empty crate that had been abandoned by the wall, resting the glass by his feet and wiping his hands down the length of his thighs.

"Hot as hell in here." The mechanic mumbled before diving into the sandwich.

Letting his head fall back against his shoulders, he moaned loudly.

"This is fucking delicious." He commented around the mouthful.

You worked hard to swat away the blush reaching at your cheeks by nodding quickly. That sound would probably ring in your head all night.

"I should go—"

"You're not gonna eat here? I don't mind ..." Eddie eyed the sandwich you'd made for yourself in your hand, gaze flickering between the plate and your face.

Your mouth curled around a response, but you were beat to the chase.

"I know you probably mind," he interjected quickly, "but if you w-want company, I mean, you could eat here ..."

Pursing your lips, you surveyed him: long gangly legs spilling in every direction and rings clinking against the glass.

Would it really kill you to sit five minutes with him?

"No need to turn red, greenie." You resigned, kicking over another crate near the grate of the car before leaning down to perch against it. "I don't mind."

It was quiet for the first couple minutes. You focused on your sandwich, feeling his gaze flicker up to you every few minutes.

He'd practically inhaled the first half of the sandwich, but you noticed he was eating the second half slowly.

"So," he swallowed down a gulp of lemonade. "What were you busy with now before I forced you into sitting here with me?"

You picked at a cucumber that had fallen loose from your sandwich, teasing at the outer skin with your teeth.

"Very important work." Your lip curled at the corners, it seemed he noticed. "Fate of the farm depended on it. Guess now it'll have to crash and burn ..."

"Oh yeah? Enlighten me."

His amused look matched yours.

"Pulling carrots out the patch."

He leaned back, eyes widening theatrically. "Sounds exhilarating."

"You have no idea."

You bit into your sandwich again, finding the space suddenly more comfortable.

"Tell me," he pulled off a piece of tomato hanging dangerously off the edge of the sandwich, "How does a car this beautiful find it's way onto a farm in the middle of nowhere?"

Your chest pinched at the question.

"Y'know, just ..." you motioned vaguely towards the roof, "Aliens."

He caught how your gaze flickered from his to a loose bolt near your foot.

Okay, sensitive spot.

The bread was soft between Eddie's fingers, he set it down.

"I thought I saw some funny lights in the sky last night."

It was becoming almost impossible to keep his eyes off you, even for a couple seconds at a time.

You only nodded at his response, refusing to lift your gaze from the floor.

It was making his stomach churn, desperate for a couple more minutes to enjoy the view of your face.

There was a smudge of brown soil against your forehead where your hair fell over it, making his hands twitch in his lap, itching to reach out and swipe at your sun-kissed face.

"Just you and the old man then?" He pressed, reaching for his glass again.

You shrugged, "Couple creatures of the earth too. And the peaches, of course. Always the peaches."

"Peaches are good."

"Peaches are good."

"No boyfriend then?"

It slipped out of him before he had chance to catch it. He'd been dying to know since the second your figure had appeared to him beyond the cloud of dust out in the field.

You took your sweet time, examining him over the rim of your glass. He couldn't tell whether you intended to respond to him at all.

The weight of your gaze was making his head spin.

"'A course I have a boyfriend. Nights on a big farm like this get lonely without someone to warm the other side of the bed. Y'know?"

Eddie's heart sunk into his stomach.

The sandwich had suddenly lost it's appeal. He set the last couple bites by his feet. He nodded slowly.

"... Can imagine."

Blood was rushing past his ears loudly, he could feel it pooling around his cheeks: warming his face with embarrassment.

"He's actually around if you want to meet him?"

"Uh—" Eddie couldn't even formulate a half of a response before your head was thrown back over your right shoulder:

"Cowboy! Baby!"

Cowboy?

There was a thick confused silence where he wasn't entirely sure who or even if anyone would march through the door - he mostly hoped that you'd been lying and nobody was coming at all.

"Baby!" You called again.

Then he heard it.

The fall of footsteps. Someone was running towards the barn and getting quickly closer.

From out of the sunshine, bounding through the door, Eddie made out the shape of the largest dog he'd ever seen.

Four long gangly legs carried him across the small space, tongue swinging over the side of his jaw: he'd appeared so quickly that Eddie didn't have a moment to prepare before the hound leapt excitedly into his lap.

"Hey, boy—!"

He toppled back over the crate and the dog licked hungrily at the sauce around the edges of his mouth, he nudged Eddie's face with his giant snout before spotting the last few bites of the sandwich left abandoned and scooped it up in one long lick.

The distraction of the food offered Eddie the opportunity to sit straight up again, he could feel the hay tangling into the depths of his hair - but the thought dissolved when he picked up the sound you were making.

You were laughing.

The sound was making him drunk, he was sure of it.

It was made worse when he looked at you: head tilted to the side, leaning at the wall and calling the dog breathlessly between giggles.

Eddie could feel the tiny birds flying in circles over his head and his pupils turning to hearts.

"Cowboy, leave the man's food!"

But the sandwich was long gone and the dog had apparently lost interest in sniffing at the empty plate, returning to licking wet stripes up the side of Eddie's face.

"Sorry, he's just a pup." Your face had softened, giggles bubbling down to a sigh. "Hasn't grown into all his manners yet."

"A pup?" Eddie mumbled in disbelief, catching Cowboy behind his ears with a tickle.

Like a magic button, the dog collapsed into a puddle by his feet: panting loudly.

"Kinda looks like your boyfriend likes me more than you."

You leaned against your knees, head shaking. "I'm feeling a little betrayed that he hasn't even looked in my direction yet."

"It's my natural charm, what can I say. Attracts animals of all species."

Scoffing loudly, you shook your head. "Keep the traitor then. We'll see how long he lasts without me feeding him spoonfuls of peanut butter under the table."

Eddie briefly wondered how big of table existed in the kitchen beyond the window of the farmhouse to fit the monstrous animal at his feet.

"Aw, then who would keep you warm on cold farm nights ..." he flashed a toothy smile, "Winter is just around the corner after all."

"Well, in that case," you tilted your head back in false concentration, lifting your hand to count on your fingers: "There's Bullseye, the cat ... Rodeo, the other cat. A couple stray dogs sometimes walk in off the fields, maybe we could adopt a goat?"

Cowboy was watching you with his head in Eddie's lap, Eddie tilted his head innocently to the side. "No one else?"

"Nope ... none that come to mind."

You were smiling at him now, mischief curled into the edges of your mouth.

It was turning his insides to a molten pool of goo.

"Is that a smile I see?" He tried his luck. "Did I make you smile? Is a comet about to hit the state of Tennessee?"

You turned your head quickly, working to wipe the expression off your face, but not entirely succeeding.

Instead you stood up.

"Whatever, greenie." Leaning down to pick up your plate, Eddie was briefly exposed to the view down the front of your dungarees. He blushed again. "Don't you have work to do?"

Crossing the space quickly, you grabbed his plate from beneath one of Cowboy's pot-sized paws before clicking your tongue at the dog.

He clambered back onto his feet like a new-born deer, clearly still not entirely sure what to do with so much leg.

"I'll see you later then, doll?"

But you didn't turn back, disappearing into the light of the sun with Cowboy trotting at your heels.

"Maybe in your dreams tonight, pretty boy."

-

tags: 

@jokersgrf @anicosa-ironlung @sleepy-bunnie @pricelessemotion @sweetgladiatorfesival @eggo-segual​ @m1rkw00dpr1ncess @introvertedmouse @ctrlaltdel3te @multifandom-l0ver @inarinine @sillysteveharharhar @buckystwilight @hey-lucille 

[etherealevangeline]

Midnight Morgue—The Morgue

hey ya’ll! please read the notes below. MDNI! please enjoy and don’t hesitate to leave feedback, it means a lot to us writers! words: 20k. my ao3: etherealevangeline

summary: reader finds herself joining Price as a coroner to pursue her “career,” as a mortician. this may or may not be an excuse to explore her eerie curiosity of death, considering her painful backstory of her dead family. this story deals with explicit themes such as smut, gore, horror, alcoholism, mental health, delusions, surgical themes/terms but probably inaccurate lol.

notes: just love the look of 2009 simon riley in this morgue AU. morgue may or may not be haunted :) ritualistic themes/cult like behavior. random sketchy ass town. Price is the supervisor. Mactavish & Garrick are small town police officers. slow burn simon x reader, enemies to lovers, simon has a huge chip on his shoulder. reader is questioning her belief in the spirit realm. feminine pronouns are used.

You found your way into the small borough of Carbon county shortly after losing your loved ones. Now, that was a while ago, having been a few years. But the pain and agony of that night never left you. It left a sinking, wallowing hole in your chest every time you thought of it. And to disguise your pain—you had turned to drinking. The feeling of the whiskey went down like water on the weekends. If anything it was less of an alcoholic drink to you and a source of never ending depravity. A way to rot on your couch.

‘’A wee alcoholic, aye?’’ You’d remember the man's words. He wasn’t the new rookie deputy cop you’d expected. No, near him was a towering man, all clad in his uniform. He had a buzzcut. What you remember was his cognac eyes boring into yours, the sight of a frown pulling at his lips from the stress of the job already taken over. Crow's feet pinched at his eye corners. His hand rested on his walkie talkie as if cradling it to soothe him.

’’Bloody hell, I don’t remember his name.’’ You muttered weakly, a sigh leaving your nostrils. Your languid, half lidded eyes from intoxication gaze up at the ceiling. It spins. You could hear the background noise of your TV—it’s nothing interesting. Nothing seems to be of interest anymore. It drags on and on until her voice drowns out. That wallowing hole inside your chest can never be sewn up, you think.

And that was mostly why you worked in a morgue. Since seeing the death of your kind—it stirred something deep inside you. Something you didn’t understand from the very beginning. It was a need to know, a primal curiosity to understand death and how it impacted the human body. You were once told it was how you coped with what happened, but how many times did you believe that when you drank your hundredth for the night?

What you still wanted to know was how it felt when that car wrapped around that pole. The smell of gasoline to burn your nostrils, and how it felt to have a 9mm blow your head off. The sound must be deafening. It must have had to blow in your eardrums and produce a shudder so violent you'd whip around. It was sickening and frightening, the kind of thoughts you had. Some would think so. But how could you sit there and write them off, when they whispered from the dark halls of your mind? Every night, beckoning. Chanting like venomous whispers.

And when the nights came, you’d sit and analyze. Hunched on your bed as the autumn night howled and the wind moaned for reprieve. Rain splattering like blood against the window. You’d replay what you’d see over and over again—only for your body to fall short of it all. The one thing missing was the experience. You were just an outsider when it happened to them, that is what it felt like.

But soon, the voices seemed to unravel. A slow hum settled down from the corner of the dingy, messy kitchen. Tablecloth slipped off, no center piece for decorum. The window was open letting in cold stark air. The lamp blinked, and surely enough your attention was back on the TV ahead of you. Rain pounds the screen as the reporter wears her flapping raincoat, eyes squinting as water raced down her pallid skin.

‘’Rattling one of the small boroughs of Pennsylvania in Jim Thorpe, a 32 year old woman was found dead by the Delaware river. Her body was found by a hiker.’’

‘’The small town is terrified as strings of bodies are found scattered around the Poconos Mountains. Will get back to you once we take five.’’ Just like that the screen cuts off. You’re left staring, shot in one hand empty. It feels cold and stale all of a sudden. It churns uneasily in your stomach, gathering like a whirlpool. Pulling at your insides and causing your vision to tilt.

Before you knew it—you’re throwing up again in your trash bin you kept beside you for when it did happen.

With all of the murders happening—bodies came in for an autopsy faster than usual. Normally, it was of a man who had fallen off a ladder and landed fatefully on his head. Leading to a subdural hematoma which then took his life. Or normally it was a druggie overdose.

But this—this pronounced a temperamental chill down your spine. Your arms brushed your sweater in uncertainty as you walked in. Your purse hangs from your shoulder—giving a glance at the receptionist who is flat faced and has saggy smile lines.

She bears no interest as you walk past and down the rickety, narrow hallway. You punch the elevator and walk in—dim and yellow lights casting a pallid sickly glow on you.

Once in the morgue downstairs, you amble down the cold constricting hallways. It’s peacefully silent, and occasionally scuffles from inside the autopsy room could be heard. When you walk in—you’re not surprised to see the bear of a man washing his hands in the sink, back facing you. He wore a reddish brown sweater, and it's rolled up. Streaks of grey line his once blonde hair. Its faint, but when you look closely you can see it. In front you is the morgue table, an overhead fluorescent lighting sending your head pounding. The lab is beside the sink, the fridge to the side holding blood samples.

‘’You’re late,’’ Price greets you gruffly, turning to wipe his wet hands on the nearby rag. He slaps it down a little too hastily for your liking--turning his shoulder to look at you, and you swallow, distant eyes tracking his boots. They were distressed, worn, and the leather was peeling from the toe front. The flaps weren’t firm anymore. His khaki pants slouch slightly at the rim of the boots.

’’Got caught up.’’ You said, the words sounding flat. It bore no heartbeat. You knew what you got caught up with.

‘’Get on with it, MacTavish is coming in with a body.’’ Price said firmly and you nodded your head. His pinched eyes watch you for any signs of swaying or slurring. You feel like a carcass—being picked apart under his gaze. He picks and prods at the meat and torn flesh that resembled you, leaving nothing but that exposed hole of deprecation.

You shudder under his gaze. You don’t like it. But you know this is how he is. Ever since you first came. It must be from all his years of military experiences which is why it came so easy to tear you apart like this with just a look.

You unwrapped your scrubby red scarf, hanging it in the closet door inside. You hang your purse and quickly scrub your hands down, head lowered in the sink where he previously stood. You get under your fingernails, as the suds glide down. You scrub until red shows up and your chest feels less tense than it did under his gaze.

‘’Get on with it, MacTavish is coming in with a body.’’ Price said firmly and you nodded your head. His pinched eyes watch you for any signs of swaying or slurring. You feel like a carcass—being picked apart under his gaze. He picks and prods at the meat and torn flesh that resembled you, leaving nothing but that exposed hole of deprecation.

Wiping your hands, you move with haste. You walk past him and the smell of tobacco hits you. He moves back to address you, eyes lingering on the top of your head uneasily. His arms cross as if surveying you. Was he a hypocrite, eyeing you as if you’d committed a war crime for drowning your sorrows? You shouldn't think like this—he’s your superior. But apart you has little to no room to care for his reputation.

You draw a figure of a body, finishing the legs, trailing up to the arms, and head. You then do a quick rinse and snap on some gloves by the lab desk area. Your fingers wiggle, and you turn to Price, holding up your hands and nodding.

He makes a quick move to talk, ‘’You’re not dead until—‘’

‘’You’re warm and dead.’’

Something almost like pride flickers in his eyes as you now announce it with ease. At first you didn't understand the implication behind the words but to him it held some sort of motivation. You thought it was silty to have said it--but upon seeing that glint in his eye it has you second guessing your thought for a second.

‘’If I ave’ to drag you to work, I will personally see to it that you’re warm and dead.’’ He said dryly. There's a hint of something in his scruffy voice but you can’t quite name it. The way his expression is hidden makes you tilt your gaze to his to see what’s underneath. To cut him open like a can of worms, to expose his insides and all his guilt. Shame. Repressed nightmares. The way he'd done with you. Maybe you’ve been staring too long because he then clears his throat.

The sound of boots thudding down the hallway come into earshot and soon a pretty, tall and boisterous man walks in. He’s sporting a mohawk, his skin somehow glistening despite the dreading atmosphere of the night. ’’We copped one, Doc.’’ He said in his thick Scottish accent, nodding a head before his eyes roamed over to you. His light eyes if it was possible--swelled with even more amusement.

You stand there, ignoring him as the body rolls in. It's the new recruit, you remembered, the one who held his walkie like it was something beloved to him. You flash a glance at his uniform—Garrick.

The victim is covered in a white sheet, you can’t tell if it’s a woman or man yet. The feet point out, unmoving and poking at the cloth. After MacTavish removed his gaze from your still form, his walkie beeps and he then comes over by Garrick who situates himself at the other end. On three, they hoisted the body onto the table.

‘’I had it.’’ Price muttered, slapping his gloves on.

Mactavish gives him a sloppy grin before stepping back on his boots, ‘’Wanted to impress the Bonnie.’’

Bunny?

What Bunny?

Confusion must’ve betrayed your normally flat face as you walked to the table, tilting the overhead lights to the body below. MacTavish's’ eyes glitter at your reaction, happy he got to milk some sort of response from you. You could tell he was interested, but not quite sure what to poke and prod at just yet. Garrick scoffs and a hand rests on his belt.

’’You’ll get it soon, dinnae fash yer’ self.’’ You glance at where the face is supposed to be, and then at MacTavish. Your lashes brush your brow bone, unwavering.

’’Give her a few and she’ll pick up the Scotsman, yeah?’’ Garrick said roughly, moving so he strolled the gurney out. He disappears down the dreadful hallway and you hear the faint buzzing of the fluorescent lights again. Something irked you. They spoke as if you weren't in the room. Then again, you had a habit of shrinking away to hide from the limelight. Could you really blame them?

‘’English, MacTavish.’’ Price mumbles, but MacTavish is stepping back, saluting comically at you both before heading out, one hand resting on his vest. You don’t miss the way his holster wraps around his thigh and hugs it, his sidearm jiggling.

Price grabs his little voice recorder from his table, fingers pressing the red button. It's small and fits in his larger hands perfectly.

’’This is the autopsy of an unidentified male, assisting with John Price is the coroner.’’ He mentions your name and it almost has a grudging sense of respect behind it.

Your heart lurches ever so slightly at the recognition. Did you like that? Did you like being seen? You're not sure what to think as you cross the line of curiosity and shame. He then gave a subtle nod to you to start working. Your hands ghost over the edges of the thin sheet for a second too long.

’’Remove the sheets.’’ Price orders, still not having loosen up his tongue from his ex military days. It's sharp and biting, firm. You bet it straightens the soldiers up before any real whipping began.

And so you do.

You don't shudder at the sight. After seeing it so many times it burns like a memory behind your eyes. Pale cloudy eyes of the man meet yours. At the sight you find it intriguing even, as his eyes convey no emotion. It’s flat, staring into an abyss. He has no consciousness of course. But when you arrived at the scene of your mother, you thought you could’ve seen the horror written on her face in the aftermath.

''Unidentified male appears to be in his early 30s. He is wearing no clothes.’’ You begin, trailing your eyes down his features before his body. You reach out and flex an arm, seeing how the muscles move and flex.

‘’The man is still in rigor mortis.’’ You identify.

Price nodded, ‘’And what could that mean?’’

’’He was found in a colder temperature, or he just died within 24 hours.’’

Price gets up to shuffle to the drawing board. He then goes to write with the thin chalk, his back facing you. ‘’Timeframe 24 hours.’’ The chalk moves with haste. He doesn’t bother to write straight, his writing is long, narrow, and at the end his letter swoops down from the effort of removing the chalk. It screeches a bit.

‘’Blonde hair, possibly blue eyes but hard to tell since it's clouded over.’’

‘’So is it blue or not?’’

You give him a glance from under your lashes, and then suck in a breath. ‘’Blue it is.’’

You then continue, tilting the head this way and that, a pinch forming between your brows as you noted diligently his features. You can feel Price studying you intensely. You know you have yet to have order to your examinations. ‘’Caucasian.’’

You could then hear Price writing on the green board.

’’Scarring around his ankles and wrists, like he’s been bound.’’ Price drops the chalk on the ledge near the eraser and comes forward. He slapped his gloves on, standing at where the head is positioned and he nods for you to go to the board instead.

’’Left and right?’’ He looked at you, watching as you walk past and to the board, a hand still adjusting the gloves. He had a bit of a struggle with the gloves being too tight. You circled the ankle and wrists as he taught you, to which you drew arrows and defined “bound.”

He raised a brow and then his eyes lowered to the unidentified male, ready to start his own observations. The feeling first began as a trickle against his neck, almost like lengthy fingers stroking the skin there. Price rolled his shoulder, as if working out a kink to which you noticed after you turned.

How you wished you blinked an eye. You shifted in your spot.

“I’ve seen this before.” Price murmured, raising the ankles carefully. The joints were shattered, leaving the bone bruised and inflamed. It’s mottled purple and blue, the area ballooned. He reached out almost tenderly to push at the bone in the ankle where it meets the bulbous joint. The bone juts and pressed against the superficial skin, threatening to pierce. It slides uneasily.

“When?” You can’t help but ask. Curiosity strikes and you find yourself tip-toeing to eye his movements. He stands quite far, so you have only the view of his head tipped down, hands skillfully working below his waist.

In fact his grey is pronounced even more. It shines under the light like silver. “Ten years ago…another male came in. Unidentified. Broken wrists and ankles just like this.”

You swallowed and Prices’ eyes flashed. Almost as if reliving a forbidden memory. It's the way he said it--like a breathy whisper, as if too afraid to still admit what he’d seen. “It was a kid at that time.”

“A kid?”

Price nodded and then furrowed his brows. The skin pinches from the urge to shove the memory away. He then looked up at you, his eyes shadowed as he rested the ankle down. You clamped your mouth shut, as it seemed personal, and the voice recorder was still rolling.

Price then swiveled around to open the mouth of the male. His hands pry and it falls open unnaturally, slack and limp, “Front incisor teeth are missing. Looks to be yanked from the root.”

You wince at the comment, imagining every bit of it. It makes you shudder. You turn and continue writing down his observations, circling the mouth area. A nauseous feeling arises in you. The feeling where your stomach rises and drops on a rollercoaster ride—except there is no rollercoaster. You couldn’t tell if it was from the drinks the night before, or from seeing the body crudely mangled.

“There’s something stuck in the throat. The esophagus.” Price suddenly said, shining a light down the man's throat with a smaller penlight. You turn around, hair whipping slightly, approaching the table where the body lay. You move as light as a feather, your footsteps unheard. A steady hum from the light above soothed your nerves. “What is it?”

Price sighed heavily, as if the nights worked dragged on. It did, you couldn't blame him. “When we perform the internal examination we’ll see.”

During the internal examination, Price steadily held his instrument. The scalpel slices cleanly at the pale flesh. When he inspects the throat area, he detaches the larynx, the and the esophagus, there’s swelling and trauma. You narrowed your eyes in focus to see.

“It looks…round.” You muttered as his gloves prod at it. Price extracts what looks to be a small pouch. When he lifts it in the air because his eyes occasionally struggle to see in the dark, his brows shoot up. At first you couldn’t tell what his reaction was. That glimmer of surprise goes away, as if squashing the butt of a cigar.

From behind the pouch as it swings, his gaze then shifts to you, brows lowering into an unsettling scowl, “It’s a small pouch. Looks like it didn’t make its way into the stomach, it was too big.”

“So he choked on it,” You conclude but Price is quick to stop you.

“We don’t know that’s how he died. Open this pouch for me.”

You nod and round the corner of the table, hands fumbling for the pouch carefully. He placed it in your palms and you moved over to the lab table, where the microscope is and your vials. You sit, eyeing the pouch under the microscope as Price continues speaking to the recorder. “The pouch was lodged in the esophagus, someone made him swallow it. Or he did it on his own. But the bound marks suggest otherwise, along with the shattered left and right fibula.”

You shudder gruesomely. Someone made him swallow it? It was looking more and more likely, especially with the bruises which pointed to a clear MO. You leaned in, eyes narrowed like lasers and eyeing the material under the microscope. You hum and then move away, glancing at Price who is working the victim.

“It’s just a pouch, nothing is inside.”

“Why would he swallow something empty?” Price muttered, shaking his head as his eyes trail to the rest of the body. You wanted to know as well, to have the dots connect. Suddenly, in the line of work you found yourself feeling alive. A thirst for understanding death, yet a desire for figuring out the puzzle pieces. You thought you couldn’t feel that way ever again. You swallowed and your eyes darted away at the floor, and Price cleared his throat. You joined him.

The night ended and before you knew it, you and Price concluded the death was caused by a stab wound to the heart. A tiny hole, piercing through the muscle and flesh, almost looking like a corkscrew. it was located laterally, by the ribs. It was nestled well. The thought of someone painfully easing it in, twisting and hearing the bone crack under pressure—It was too much. And then to endure the plain of everything else. It was borderline torture at that point. Maybe it was torture.

But why? Why this person? What did they do? More so, who did this?

''Whoever did this must've had a helluva PTO.'' Price muttered, before he shut off the lights, casting the area in complete darkness.

''Who do you think did it?'' Your voice comes out strong and grounded. Apart of you was not afraid to ask, you yearned for an answer. You gazed at Price who sighed and grabbed his hunky jacket, slinging it on. He glanced at you.

''If I took a wild guess, someone with a lotta' experience. They knew which bones to break, most importantly corked the mans heart fatally.''

You don't necessarily feel an ache towards the male, but it manifested as an insistent need to analyze the situation. That was how your brain worked, like a piston.

Price had left a while ago, leaving you to fend for yourself. The night is settled with a thick, blue haze stretching solemnly across the cemetery. The trees huddle and lean in as if sharing secrets, but more than ever you feel it offers you no child like curiosity, the way you would have felt when you were naive. Blankets of fog roll in like an oncoming wave. You strolled to your car.

“What d’ya find?” Suddenly, a voice cuts through the cold stale air. A certain MacTavish called out from behind you as you walked. You're arms are crossed as your burgundy cardigan is wrapped around you to keep you warm but it offers little comfort. Your scarf flits in the air as you turn around to see him.

Mactavish is leaning against the patrol car, and biting into a sandwich. It reminded you that your stomach ached as well for food. Something warm. Something tangible beyond years of numbness. You eye him before walking forward to stand beside him, although not necessarily mingling in his personal space. “What are you doing here? At this hour.” You ask, not wanting to discuss what had been on your very mind as you walked out the morgue. It was teetering at 2am now, and the idea of having a lengthy discussion of blood and bones did not interest you.

“Got called in for a bar brawl.” He said with food in his mouth. You eye him with a sense of distaste, a brow cocking and your arms still crossed to shield yourself from the October cold. You swallowed and shook your head. The shadows of the gnarly fork like trees draped over your faces, the lamp shade doing nothing to console your uneasiness. “Sounds better than my night.”

“Join me, then.” He said a bit too cheekily. You scoff, shoving a hair away from your cheek as it grazed in the wind. You’re pretty sure you resembled Rudolf the red nosed reindeer since the cold was getting harsher and unforgiving these nights. It consumed the forests and every crevice it could.

You then look at him, pausing and eyeing his amused expression. His eyes twinkled, most certainly remembering a certain event you two shared.

Finishing the last of his sandwich, he dusted his hands off and stood tall, shifting on the pavement. “I’ll drop ya home.” Did he forget you had a car?

“Not necessary.” You said a bit too fast, cutting him at the last second. You stiffen up and grasp at your elbows tighter, as if trying to melt away in your cardigan. You’re not sure what’s worse, him seeing the bottles of alcohol on the ground, or your messy unkempt place. It looked as if a hurricane rummaged in there. And his joke of being an alcoholic—it rubbed you the wrong way. The alcohol would only confirm his jokes of you.

But there was no use hiding it. It’s what you depended on for a second long high. And then the weight came crashing down, it crashed hard. But now it had been a running joke of your drunkenness, when you came into work accidentally and met the cop, MacTavish. Let’s just say, you two played in places you weren’t supposed to be.

He happened to just drop off a body, whilst he found you sitting at the stale reception desk, working. You typed clumsily and appeared dazed. The lady called in sick, so Simon took over your shift, a man you'd met a few times. MacTavish then grinned devilishly, “Aren’t ye' the new morgue lass?” And you gave him a bedazzling smile and grin as if you’d known the man. Cheeks lifted, hair flowing in waves, the warm light almost illusioned you in such a cunning way. You did not know him. It was the alcohol pumping loudly combined with the horrible urge, insistent urge to run away from your past. And behind your eyes you hid very well the pain and agony. It was believable, to the point MacTavish thought you were one of those rowdy restaurant girls, cosplaying as a mortuary assistant. Probably his favorite trope.

You could remember the way he hid without a car it seemed in the morgue storage. He laid down, went in and you shut it. To scare him—you suddenly spoke amongst the corpses when five minutes passed and he yelled, wanting to get out. “Lass, I swear to god next time ye’ will be in here.”

Snapping back to reality, as the wind howled like a wolf in pain--you knew that wasn’t the real you. This was. This distant, shrouded and shell of a self. You zoomed back in, the voices and vision fading away from view. You could hear him talk clearly now.

He had his hands raised as if his hands were burned, brows raised, “I willnae’.”

You awkwardly glance at him, to which he gazes at, before walking on your boots off the pavement, fishing for your car keys in your cardigan pocket. Your car beeps when you press the button and you sighed. Your silence left him stunned momentarily, and confused. The man is not sure of what to think when it came to you, your behavior. You were first a Tinkerbelle, the manic pixie that night, and now you were a closed off wall.

“Get home safe, will ye?” He hesitantly said from behind you. He watched as your hair whipped and you then gave him a weary glance before leaving in your car. You thought he muttered something along the lines of, “Can never seem to pick one up, aye?” He sighed pitifully, turning away.

In your car as you drove down the narrow highway, trees whizzed past. An eerie fog had set in and you put on your hard lights to see ahead. You then slowed down, sighing through your nose. Long morning, love drive.

[security-chief-odo]

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 2

Eliot Spencer (Leverage) x Reader

Read chapter 1 here

Word Count: ~1.6k

Summary: The rehearsal and rehearsal dinner kick off the wedding weekend. Will your family believe your lie, will you be able to keep your feelings a secret from Eliot?

• • •

In the weeks before Eliot and you had already laid out an iron-clad backstory and decided that some PDA would be necessary when your family is around. Even with your plan falling into place, getting in the car to go has you beyond nervous. Though you can’t say your family is what has you so nervous about this trip anymore.

The wedding venue is a two hour drive from the loft and Elliot insists on driving, an offer you gladly accept so you could get a nap in before dealing with the chaos this weekend has in store.

Both you and Eliot are nicely dressed already as you were heading straight to the rehearsal dinner. Eliot is donning a light gray suit that fits him a little too well. You’re wearing a cocktail dress, which leaves you shivering as the evening chill rolls in with the sunset as you near the venue.

You stir from your slumber to the sound of Eliot whispering your name. At some point during the drive he must have taken his jacket off because you now found it wrapped around you like a blanket.

There is no way you’ll survive this weekend if just the smell of his cologne on his jacket has you ready to confess your feelings, but it’s too late to back out now.

Finally looking out the window, you see you’re at the wedding venue, so you sit up as Eliot gets out of the car. You stretch lightly as he opens your car door. He takes the jacket and folds it on his arm, offering you his other hand to help you out of the car.

“How do I look?” you look down at your outfit before looking up at him for an answer.

“Almost perfect, may I?” he asks. You nod and he begins adjusting your necklace that had gone askew as you rested, then he fixes the few strands of hair that no longer laid as neatly as before. “Now you look perfect.”

Your face flushed as you looked into his eyes, “Thank you again for doing this whole thing for me. You’re really saving my ass here.”

“Happy to help darlin’” He offers you his arm to hold as he gestures towards the doors.

The rehearsal goes off without a hitch, and you now find yourself seated at the restaurant, with Eliot’s arm resting on the back of your chair.

He is sitting next to your mom who just can’t seem to get enough of him. As she regales him with stories about your family drama, he moves his hand to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. Your breath hitches as he absentmindedly traces his thumb across your leg.

Neither you nor Eliot have been drinking much, but the flush on your cheeks could have the whole room fooled.

Your mom, on the other hand, is just past tipsy when Eliot excuses himself to go to the bathroom. As he gets up he presses a kiss to your temple, “I’ll be right back sweetheart.”

You not-so-subtly check out his ass as he exits the room and you take a sip of the glass of wine you've been nursing all night. Your mom leans in and tells you “That man is a keeper.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Do you not see him y/n?” your mom is looking at you incredulously, “He’s gorgeous, a perfect gentleman, and don’t even get me started on the way he looks at you.”

So maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to convince your family of your relationship after all. Eliot has clearly already sold your mother on it, perhaps a little too well. “I don’t know, mom. I’m not sure he’s as into me as I am into him. It’s only been a couple months anyways”

You figure sprinkling in the truth will make it more believable when your eventual “break up” happens, and at least they'll feel bad enough to comfort you once you're through breaking your own heart. You put yourself in this situation, so you swallow your disappointment down with another sip of wine.

“Honey, Eliot looks at you like you hung the moon and stars,” she pauses, seemingly lost in thought, “ I think you’re wrong about him.” She shrugs and walks away to go talk to your sister.

You can practically feel your blood run cold as James, your ex-boyfriend, approaches you for the first – and hopefully last – time this weekend. “You should listen to your mother. You’re definitely wrong about your new boy toy.”

He clearly has only caught the last bit of your mom’s statement. A fact that becomes more evident as he continues on with his drunken rambling. “He probably only came here with you because you’re dressed like a fucking whore. He just thinks he can get some, but that’s not gonna happen. We both know you’re still not over me.”

“Fuck off, James.” you spit out quietly, hoping not to make a scene.

“Why? Can’t handle the truth sweetheart?” That word had felt so right when Eliot had said it, but it now felt like poison on your ears.

“Don’t call me that.” you move to walk away but he blocks your path.

“Oh,” he laughs with a venom to his voice that is all too familiar to you. “Now I get it, maybe pretty boy is right. You did move on – by moving under every guy in town. Maybe this one’s just bored enough to keep a slut like you around, at least until the next girl with daddy issues and–.”

Before you could get another word in, Eliot comes to your rescue. He isn’t exactly sure what is happening but his heart breaks a little when he sees the relief cross your face at his arrival. He wraps a protective arm around you “Hey beautiful,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. This left James to walk away in a huff.

Eliot pulled you into a hug, kicking himself for ever leaving you alone. He excused himself to the bathroom just to collect himself. Every time he holds you, every time you brush his hair back, every time your eyes meet, he feels terrified you’ll figure out just how in love he really is. He has been in love with you from the moment you joined the team.

He is supposed to be here to make your weekend easier, but let you down because he can’t control his emotions. He whispers in your ear, “You ok?” and his body relaxes when you nod against his chest.

Pulling away, you rest a hand on his chest while his hands settle on your waist. “He’s just drunk and thinks he can still get under my skin. It’s no big deal, really.”

“Well why don’t we head back to the hotel anyways? Tomorrow will be a long day” Your heart sinks a little, knowing that behind closed doors, you’ll just go back to being friends. No arm around you, no hand resting right above your knee, and no more kissing.

***

You get your key card from the front desk and grab your bags from the car. Opening up the door to the room, you stop dead in your tracks. Your sister had booked you a single bed. Of course she had. You were staying with your “boyfriend”, so what else would she have done?

Eliot enters behind you and notices your predicament. The way you’ve frozen confirms all of his fears about how you feel about him. “It’s ok, I’ll just call down for some extra bedding and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“No, I’ll do that. You’re doing me a favor. The least I can do is let you have the bed.”

He moves closer, some of the nervous tension having dissipated, “Darlin’ you’ll be up and on your feet all day tomorrow, in heels no less. You need it more than I do.”

“Well I’m not going to sleep unless you take the bed.”

“Well I won’t either until you do. Two can play at this game sweetheart.”

You’d be lying if you said the pet names didn’t make you feel something, and maybe that’s why you say “Well then I guess we’ll have to share.”

The challenging look in your eyes as you stare Eliot down fills his body with a familiar warmth, and maybe that’s why he replies, “I guess so.”

With that resolved you grab your pajamas and take a quick shower before heading to bed. When you exit the bathroom in your short shorts and tank top, Eliot is lying shirtless on his side of the bed with a movie playing on the TV.

An almost silent tension fills the room as you both struggle between checking the other out, and desperately avoiding checking the other out for fear of being caught.

You climb into bed and settle in, watching the movie Eliot had turned on. He had been watching 10 Things I Hate About You, so you turn to him with a questioning look and wordlessly point to the TV.

Immediately defensive, “What? This is a goddamn cinematic masterpiece.”

“Fair enough. Just didn’t peg you for a rom-com kinda guy.”

“Well there’s plenty you don’t know about me y/n”

With your amusement evident in your voice, you reply “Goodnight, Eliot”

“Goodnight, doll.”

You both drift off to sleep, only dreaming of each other’s touch.

• • •

Taglist: @mini-kunoichi @javicstories @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @being-worthy @xkell-bellx @imaginecrushes

Let me know what you think or if you want to be added to the series taglist!

Read chapter 3 here!

[dakotalun]

The Cabin | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: The older kids decide to take the weekend off and head down to Steve's parent's cabin.

warnings: none for this chapter, just some mutual pining

word count: 2k

a/n: Been thinking of this idea for years now and finally decided to put it down on paper, or screen ig.

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

Eddie’s POV

Steve has been planning this trip for weeks. I mean, I like the guy and all but he can go a little overboard with things. He has been trying to get us all to come down to his family’s lake house for what feels like forever. Just the older kids, Steve, Nancy, Robin, Jonathan, Y/N and I. He says it’ll be a weekend of games, drinking and fun. Which translated to normal language means, raiding his parents liquor cabinet, smoking some blunts and playing kiddie games like truth or dare, and never have I ever. Not that I mind, I’m just happy to be invited, even if I do have to do a shit ton of manual labor beforehand.

“Come on Eddie, it’s only gonna take a few hours,” Steve pleads with me over the phone.

“Dude exactly, a few hours. Do you know what I could be doing in those ‘few hours’?” I’m walking around the trailer trying to not explode my head off as Steve whines at me. 

“I don’t know, you’d probably get high and sleep, or some shit. Just come on! I really need your van.”

“Nope, not happening,” I plop down on the couch and open my tin lunchobox, ready to roll a joint, “I mean why do you need my van anyways, isn’t your car fine?”

Steve sighs over the phone, “Yes but it’s too small. I need help moving some stuff from my family’s storage locker to the lake house. You know that place you’ll be staying in for the next week!”

I finally get done rolling my joint and scour my tin for a lighter, if I’m gonna help Harrington with this I’ll be needing it, “Ugh fine, just let me get some shit first. I’ll be at yours in 20.”

“Fucking- thank you!” Before I can even say a snarky remark he hangs up.

I groan and throw my head back. I am so gonna regret this later.

---

A few days later I’m with Steve at his house, getting the stuff for the trip finalized. We planned that since my van is bigger than Steve’s tiny ass BMW, I’d be taking all the bags and shit with one passenger and he’d take the other 3 and all the food.

“So I’ll take Nancy, Robin and Y/n. You take Jonathan,” Steve says throwing a bag of chips into a bag.

“Oh hell no. Why do you get all the girls?” “Um maybe because then they’d have to deal with you for 2 hours,” I pick up a pack of marshmallows and throw them at him, “Hey! Fine, take Y/n I don’t care just stop throwing my shit.”

“Thank you,” I walk over to him and sling an arm over his shoulder, “That wasn’t so hard was it big boy?” He pushes me off and I stumble back as the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it, you finish packing the food.” I straighten my back and put my hand to my forehead like a soldier, “Aye aye Captain!” and solute him as he leaves the kitchen.

I hear him open the front door and the voices of Nancy and Robin. The three of them come back into the kitchen laughing at something Robin had said.

“Sup ladies.”

“Hey Eddie,” They say in unison before turning their attention back to Steve. Before I met them I would’ve thought that they didn’t like me or that they only pretended to be my friend out of pity, now that I know  them, I know that that’s not the case, they simply wanted to finish their conversation with Steve first.

“Hey hey!” The loud bang of the front door wakes me out of my daydream as Jonathan waltz’s into the room. Nancy gives him a quick kiss while he wraps his hand around her waist. 

“So we all reday to go? I can’t wait to go skinny dipping,” He gives Nancy a smirk and wink before he bursts out loud at his own stupidity.

“Yeah pretty much. I just gotta get y’all’s shit into my van and pick Y/n up and we’ll be good.”

“Great. I’ll help load the rest of the stuff into the cars,” Steve heads out of the house with Robin and Nancy’s bags, “Hey Nance and Rob could you put those last few food bags in my trunk please?” Steve yells halfway out of the door.

They both agree in unison before grabbing the bags and heading outside. I sit there for a minute just thinking about what this weekend might intell, firstly I have to spend 4 hours in my van with the girl I have a crush on and secondly, I have a whole week of being with her, and my other friends but this is the longest we’ve hangout together and it’s not like I can just hop in my van and drive away when I do something stupid. I shake my head and join my friends outside, shutting the front door on my way out.

---

I pull up to Y/n’s house not even 5 minutes after calling her that I’m on the way. I see her parent’s cars in the driveway and pull up behind them. I jump out my van and rush to her door, maybe a little too eager to see her. I knock 3 times before the door is swinging open and I’m greeted with the big, bright smile that I like so much.

“Hey Eds! You got here quick, let me just grab my bags real quick, stay there,” She turns and her scent wafts in my face a little, she smells like vanilla and flowers. I wonder what she uses, vanilla shampoo and floral perfume? Maybe it’s in both, vanilla and flowers in body wash, shampoo, and perfume?! God what I would give to find out.

***

Y/N’s POV

I leave the door open as I run into the living room to grab my bags. I try my best to conceal the blush rushing to my cheeks upon seeing Eddie. I've never seen him in a muscle tee before, and if I’m being honest he looks hot as hell.

I quickly say goodbye to my parents and head back to the foyer, I don’t wanna waste another second here. I close the front door behind me and I feel a hand on my duffel bag as I turn back towards Eddie.

“I’m just gonna put these with the others in the back, go ahead and get comfy in the car,” He walks off towards the van, unlocking the doors for me to hop in.

“Actually,” I grab my small backpack from him, “I’m gonna keep this one with me.”

“Alright,” He walks off towards the back of his van.

Once I get in the car I set my bag down at my feet, opening it to get out my blanket and book. Eddie rounds the corner of the car and hops in along side me, buckling his seatbelt before starting the engine.

“Did you really bring a blanket?” He give you a small smile at the thought that I’d be prepared with a blanket for this ride.

“Yes I did. It was my grandpa’s so I bring it with me on trips. Don’t judge me.” I scowl at him but then flash him a little smile back.

Eddie’s heart warms at the thought of me being so close to my grandparents that I keep their things even after they are gone, “Hey no judgement here,” He holds his hands up in mock surrender, “if I had stuff from my grandparents I’m sure I’d keep it too.”

I laugh a little and Eddie pulls out of my driveway beginning the long journey to Steve’s lake house.

---

Roughly half an hour into the drive I start to get a little bored and hungry so I riffle around in my bag to find the cheez-its and book I packed. Upon finding them you pull your feet up on the chair and begin reading and eating your snacks. 

You’ve always loved road trips, especially in the summer, the way you can just let the windows down the warm air blowing in your hair cooling you down while also keeping you at a nice temperature. This was no different, other than it was with Eddie, not your parents. It felt good to be with Eddie listening to his music as it plays over the speakers and hearing his rings knock against the steering wheel as he taps along to the beat of the song.

You feel relaxed, and happy. A feeling you haven’t really felt much recently. School had become really stressful with all the college applications and decisions to be made. And then getting ready for all the AP exams you’d be taking in late April, then the actual finals for your classes, it was all just so stressful. So when Steve and Robin approached you about spending spring break away from the gloomy town of Hawkins, who were you to deny them.

You’re reading your book and can’t focus well because you feel eyes on you. You look up from your book and over at Eddie, who is just glancing back from the road to you with a questioning look on his face.

“What?” You ask turning your body towards him a little.

“Nothing,” He looks away, focusing solely on the road again.

“You wouldn’t be staring if it was nothing. So what is it?”

“I just dont get how you can read in a moving car? Like doesn’t it make you nauseous?”

“Uh no I guess not. I didn’t realize that this was a weird thing to do? Can you not read in a car?” You’re genuinely asking, wondering if you’re weird or not for being able to do this.

“Hell no, I get sick just being in the passengers seat,” He laughs a little at the weird way his body works, “I don’t know I guess it something about focusing on the road helps calm me,” He looks over at you for a second, taking in your position. Feet tucked under you, blanket thrown over your legs hanging low, book resting face down on your knee and cheez-its between your arm and the door. He has to admit you look cute like this, “I’ve just never met anyone who can read in a car. It’s pretty cool.”

“Thanks, I guess.” You smile at each other before Eddie resumes his focus on the road and you on your book.

Before you know it you’re passed out in the seat while your book dangles off the endle of the seat. Eddie notices that he needs more gas so as soon as he can he gets off the highway and heads to a station to fill up. While getting gas he notices how peaceful you look sleeping in his van, sure you may be laying a weird position but you look calm. Eddie gets back in the van but before pulling out of the gas station he takes your book, places in your bookmark and sets in down near your bag. He knows how much you’d hate if anything happened to it while you slept.

3 and a half long hours later you guys finally make it to the lake house, but you can’t see Steve’s car there. Eddie hops out of the van to give him a call quickly.

“Hey,” Eddie says through the speaker.

“Hey- No we are not stopping again! Get it together we aren’t that fucking far! Hey dude sorry I know we’re late but someone keeps insisting on us stopping for bathroom and snack breaks,” Eddie can hear the disdain in his buddy’s voice knowing exactly who the someone is.

“It’s no problem dude, just remind me what the code to get in is again, we can start getting everything set up while you get here.”

“Thanks dude. The code is 3957, just make sure to turn on the water and power too.”

“Sure thing, see you soon.”

“Bye- Rob I told yo-” And then the line goes dead. Eddie laughs a little to himself before putting his phone back in his pocket and heading to your side of the car.

[militarymenrbomb]

A supposedly true story from Reddit.

2 “straight” friends at the pool

100% true stories from my teenage years. Everyone was of age.

Little Background. I’m 40 and married to a woman. When I was younger (senior in high school) I had a close friend, Zach. He was 6’ blonde and average build. I was 5’8, and athletic. We spent most weekends together. Zach’s family had money and his parents typically were gone on trips or in the main house. Zach lived in the pool house.

I was at Zach house one weekend. It was summer and we were by the pool swimming. His parents were away for the day so we had the place to ourselves. The area was very private. As we were swimming, Zach asked if I wanted a beer. Not being 21, I jumped at the offer. We had a couple over the next hour or so and started getting a little silly. We ended up talking about girls at school and sex. I started getting hard through my trunks thinking about all the girls at school. Zach noticed and said “that looks uncomfortable. Just take them off and skinny dip!” I was hesitant but before I knew it Zach stripped down, tossed his trucks to me, and jumped in. I quickly stripped and did the same.

What was the harm is 2 guys swimming naked. It felt good and was fun. I could see though the water some and could see Zach was hard too. His was curved, unlike my straight shaft, and about 6”. He caught me looking and mention that I was pretty hung and asked if I had ever hooked up with any girls from school. I hadn’t unfortunately. I’ve had many girlfriends but never had sex with anyone. I had only fooled around with them a little. He admitted that he hadn’t done anything either. I thought nothing of it.

We got out of the pool, still naked, and went back to the pool house to change and eat some dinner. We ate at the bar, watching tv in our towels. It got dark as we finished and I hopped up deciding to get dressed finally. Walking away, Zach playfully pulled my towel away and I stood that bare assed. I covered up, embarrassed that I didn’t have the pool water to help hide me. Zach laughed it off and said “ we were skinny dipping. I don’t think it’s a big deal anymore lol.” That logic made sense to me so I relax and uncovered. Zach hopped up to and dropped his towel showing me that he was completely comfortable with us being naked together. Told me not to get dressed, that he enjoyed the freedom of being naked.

We sat in the bed to watch more tv. I couldn’t help but look at Zach’s naked body. This was so new to me whether man or woman. It was exciting and was turning me on! I knew my dick was growing hard again. I tried to turn so Zach wouldn’t notice. I didn’t want to weird him out but too late! He saw me trying to hide my hard on and reached over, grabbing hold of my cock. He said it’s fine! Don’t hide it! Its natural it get hard when you’re naked. I was frozen because no one had ever held my cock in their hands before. I slowly turn back unhiding myself. Zach smiled and said look, I’m hard too. Happens to everyone. He flipped around and his cock bounced at attention in front of me. I reached out and grabbed his too…..made sense since he still had a grip on mine.

Sitting there holding each other cocks we started to jack each other off. It felt so good and much better than doing it to myself. This continued till Zach, on his knees at this point, pushed my down on the bed. Told me to relax and enjoy. He bent down and started sucking me. It was amazing! Best feeling I’ve ever had! He rubbed my hairless chest and blew for for about a minute till I knew I was going to cum. I started convulsing and Zach sat up and jacked me off till I erupted on my stomach. Endorphins were flowing wildly through me. Without thinking I reached up and started kissing him. I was so horny I didn’t care. He kissed me back and we laid on each other in a deep tongue make out.

Zach stopped us kissing and directed me to suck his dick. I was still high on what just happened. I obeyed him got on my knees. I took his cock into my mouth happily and started sucking it like I had seen in porn movies. I licked up and down his shaft, spit on the tip, and back into my mouth it went! Zach was really getting into it and started to face fuck me, holding my head down so I couldn’t get away. Pumping harder and faster I knew he was close but I was stuck. Before I knew it he was cumming in my mouth. I had no choice but to swallow his load. He released his grip and bend down to kiss me some more.

We were both exhausted and ended up cuddling all night. Next morning we made out some more but that was the end of it. His parent were back and we didn’t want to get caught.

[creedslove]

I just got my masters degree and my bf did not want to celebrate because it’s not that big of a deal and instead he went out by himself.

Would you do an imagine with any of the Pedro boys or him himself celebrating it? I just need a Little pick me up ❤️

No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: OH MY GOD HONEY!!! CONGRATULATIONS 👏🎉💐🎉 This is amazing! Such great news honestly, I couldn't even make it through graduation so if you managed to get your masters degree this is a huge deal!!! I hope you are enjoying yourself at the moment and forgive me if I step outta line here honey but your bf is a piece of shit honestly, you know what's not a big deal? His mf ass!!! Once again I'm sorry bestie but you deserve way better than this guy honestly, and well, I thought about it and I decided to go with Joel because he would exactly how to treat you right ❤️

• Joel loves how smart and hard working you are, he is a guy who isn't book smart even if you praise him for his emotional and rational intelligence, he knows that in your relationship you got the brains

• he supports you through everything you decide to do, concerning your academic or professional life, he supports you no matter what and he loves bragging about you and how successful you are

• he would proudly tell anyone you were getting your masters degree because

"you gotta be smart for that, you know, darlin'"

• and once you finally get your masters degree, Joel feels his heart bursting with pride and love and he just gets too excited about you, he wants to know if you will have some kind of ceremony because he will be there

• he hopes he doesn't have to wear a suit but he would if he had to, as long as you are happy he is happy

• Joel would get himself a new shirt and some new jeans, he would put on his good boots™ and his leather jacket 🫦 looking his best for you

• afterwards he would take you out to celebrate just the two of you to some place where you can have some drinks and good food, he's a steakhouse man and no one can try to prove me otherwise but I'm certain he would go for a japanese or italian restaurant if it makes you happy

• he would gift you something too, I'm sure he would go for jewelry, not something awfully expensive, our sweet Joel ain't rich but you can bet he would choose either a beautiful bracelet or a gorgeous pair of earrings and perhaps a necklace

• or even that kind of ring we all would dream of getting from him 😉

• on the weekend he would make sure to throw a barbecue in celebration of you, calling your family, your friends, Sarah and Tommy so everyone could cheer and congratulate you for your achievement

• he is just so happy you managed to accomplish your stuff, he can't even describe into words, he just loves it and he could never hide how proud he is ❤️

____

[daydream-cement]

hey! feel free to skip this if you don't wanna do it! but can you do a (completely platonic/familial) student who's parents didn't come for the parent weekend because they Really Suck and so larissa comforts them? it can be in any way, and the student is known for always causing trouble, being in the principals office, and being cocky (one of the students weems gets annoyed with or smth)-so seeing this was a shocker for Larissa and she grows a soft mother-spot for them? (gender-neutral) Thanks!

My Favorite Troublemaker

Larissa Weems x student!reader

Authors Note: I like these little platonic student fics. They r cute.

You sat in the balcony watching the other students and parents mingling with one another. You roll your eyes at the thought of it. You parents were a no-show this weekend, leaving you disappointed and a little bitter.

“How’s my favorite troublemaker?” You hear from the top of the stairs nearby. It was Principal Weems.

You smirk at the nickname. You certainly were a bit of trouble. Just last week you pulled this fantastic prank of removing the gargoyles and placing them in all the doorways of the classrooms. It lead to a fantastic amount of chaos. As usual she spent about a half hour pacing in front of her fireplace as she yelled at you.

“Ehh, so-so.” You move your gaze from her back down to the sea of people below.

“I get what you mean. This is always the longest weekend of the year.” Principal Weems came to lean on the railing next to you.

“Tell me about it.” You mutter, crossing and uncrossing your legs. You were a bit nervous. What had you done now?

“I’m sorry you’re parents couldn’t be here.” She said softly, glancing over to her. You chose not to look at her. You would probably gotten teary-eyed if you would have. She knew your shitty parent situation and chose not to delve into it for your sake.

“It’s whatever.”

“I can be your mom for the weekend.” Larissa Weems offered, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips and body turning towards you slightly.

You look up at her with a narrow gaze, almost thinking she had to have been joking. When her expression remained genuine and serious, you spoke, “Really?”

“As long as you won’t be a pain in my ass.” Larissa’s response was swift but when you saw her smirk you let out a laugh.

“Deal.”

Larissa straightened her back, standing tall and proud as always. You moved to stand next to her, staring up with a smile at your ‘’mom-for-the-weekend’. She reached an arm out, pulling you into her side for a side-hug. You leaned your head into her and enjoyed the embrace, smiling extra big when she pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

With a final squeeze, she let you go and gave you a gentle nudge at your back for you to head downstairs, “Now let’s get back down there. There is a blue ribbon for an egg-and-spoon race with our name on it.”

[jaggedwolf]

Kate x Lucy

when I started shipping it if I did: pilot episode kiss, ngl, where it establishes that they must already be on-and-off hooking up in between sniping at each other about classified information. Lucy just shows up at her apartment!

my thoughts: when I watched this show I was genuinely bewildered by how this CBS procedural NCIS spin-off....just has a whole-ass lesbian romcom happening in its first season? The S1 finale literally ends on them getting together via a grand gesture with the rest of the team cheering.

anyway, they're so fun! they hit a lot of dynamics I like - Lucy loves loudly and openly while Whistler is brittle and contained, they have tension with a history, the height difference is cute, and man, maybe for a different ship all the drama in 1B would've been too much, but for these two I loved it, and not just because Whistler made the best kicked puppy faces while pining hopelessly

my random headcanons on when they each realize they're gay is that Lucy realizes in middle school and Whistler realizes in college, not too long before Noah's death. Don't think anything in canon contradicts that

What makes me happy about them: they're so ridiculously fond of each other. The consistent hearteyes they aim at each other while engaging in tropey shenanigans and still being individually competent agents makes me very happy. When it comes to the relationship angst, I like that for them it's never closeted/sexuality angst but their very different personalities, the usual fwb-to-lovers difficulties, Whistler's big mistake, and working together. They've been no less delightful as an established relationship in S2 and S3 - I love how much the show loves them, they literally got a ficcy-as-hell undercover-as-couple subplot last episode with all the usual gimmicks

Oh, I also did not anticipate how much physical fighting this procedural would have, and as someone who always wants my faves to get wrecked, I have been very well-served. Lucy almost dying while undercover right after Kate crushes her heart! Whistler getting injured while they're broken up and Lucy yelling at her for it! Such good food. (Show, you can keep beating up Whistler every season, I will never complain.)

What makes me sad about them: Their families, and the resulting loneliness. Lucy talks about her sister and brothers like a youngest kid who used to be close to them but isn't any more, last ep she commented that she knew from a very young age that her parents would never throw her a big wedding like her brothers', the way she gets set off by "financially responsible" as a rationale + her family's money has implications there. Kate's confession of how she shut herself off from the world after Noah's death.

But I like that they know about these things for each other (the way Whistler goes "Right. Right." at Lucy's comment tells us they've talked about this before), and the way they're navigating around and disarming each other's landmines here

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I understand that this is the danger of stepping back into another blonde/brunette live-action f/f ship but I cannot deal with those epithets. Or "taller woman"/"shorter woman" either, all of it always makes the PoV character sound like she has a complex about hair or height. It is okay to use the characters' names, I promise.

things I look for in fanfic: .....I've become such a hipster about characterizations for these two. Lucy is the one who broods and contemplates her feelings, Kate is the one who acts without thinking and gets surprised by her own reactions. Whistler is the one with better work-life balance and hobbies, who moved from DC to Hawai'i and stayed there despite the former being way better for a fed career, who goes surfing every Saturday morning without bothering to be contactable by work, and Lucy is the one who describes her life as consisting solely of "work, gym, and [Whistler]" and sometimes does paperwork on the weekends.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Gosh, I really have no other Lucy ships. For Whistler, I could 100% ship Whistler/Tennant if it was like, after the kids are grown. Why do they stand so close to each other in that 1x14 coffee conversation and say each other's full titles, or have Whistler demonstrate career-threatening levels of loyalty to Tennant, if not to make me contemplate this ship? I hope Sam Hanna's presence doesn't mean we don't get any Tennant-Whistler stuff this season.

My happily ever after for them: Just keep on being badass agents together and stay in Hawaii long-term. Don't really see them having kids, but I can totally see Lucy convincing Whistler of having a cat. ...Maybe get a shorter bed, does Lucy really have to climb that high every night XD.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: lmao I was going to make a comment about Lucy jetpacking because of course she does, but the bed comment reminded me that that they have 10 billion pillows on their bed. One weekend morning Lucy is going to sleepily think she's spooning Kate and find out she's actually hugging those pillows, having been abandoned for the Dreaded Ocean.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: does sparring really count as non-sexual for them it might really be meals at home? They both cook, they enjoy a quiet night in after their truly hectic cases, and they can put on GBBO or one of Whistler's preferred history documentaries afterwards.

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 22 of ? | masterpost

word count: 3319 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible.  Something like a kiss.

✦ summary: An unexpected action by James confuses Nore's feelings and changes their friendship beyond repair.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle, drinking, smoking, recreational drug use, kissing

✦ a/n: I'm back earlier this time! This part was a lot easier to write because I confess it has been living rent free in my head for a while lol Hope you guys like it, feedbacks are welcome and motivate me a lot!

✧ Don't wanna touch you, but you're under my skin / I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison ✧

The trip back to Los Angeles was pretty quiet as I got lost in my own thoughts. Still trying to wrap my head around my mom's offer and all the baggage it brought, my mind was racing, keeping pace with the dark night scenery outside the window.

"You're awfully quiet," Dave remarked, jolting me back to reality. I glanced at him; he was focused on the road, but looked a bit bothered by my silence.

"My bad," I murmured. "It's just... a lot to take in at once."

"No need to apologize," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. He casually took one hand off the wheel, placing it on my thigh, his thumb tracing gentle circles on my skin. I rested my hand on his, leaning back into the seat. He furrowed his brow, the usual sign of concentration, and his hand left mine to shift gears; I smiled faintly, appreciating how good he looked when he was focused. "How are you doing?"

"Me?" I questioned, and he nodded with a grunt. I sighed. "I guess I'm okay. My family is complicated, but it's nothing I'm not used to."

"Your dad seemed nice," he smiled, stealing a quick glance at me. I chuckled softly.

"Yeah, he's... easier to deal with. Now, my mom..."

"She's... interesting," he commented, and I laughed softly, catching on that he was being polite. We were almost home now; Dave stopped the car at a red light and turned to face me, gazing into my eyes.

"She's a pain in the ass, that's what she is," I said, and he burst into laughter. "Always acting like she's better than everyone. She always... always makes me feel like I'm hard to love," I concluded with a sigh.

"Hey," he lifted my chin with his fingers, making me meet his serious and focused gaze. I felt my face warm as he leaned in, planting a gentle kiss on my lips before pulling away. He whispered into my ear, "That's not true... It's very easy to love you."

The rest of September passed by like a hurricane. A few days after visiting my parents, we threw a small birthday party for Dave with our closest LA friends. To spice things up, there was a mini jam session where Dave, David, and a couple of other friends belted out some fresh tunes they'd cooked up. They had no vocalist yet, but I was blown away by the raw power and intensity of Dave's new compositions anyway. When he strummed those chords, it felt like a surge of electricity took over the whole place. Everything about him cranked up a notch; it was downright impossible to peel my eyes away, even for a second.

October rolled in, and with the streets all decked out for Halloween, I received an invite that temporarily shoved aside my worries about my mom's deal. Leanne's birthday was just around the corner, and she was throwing a bash for the upcoming weekend at Joe's place. Word was it would be a wild one. I hit up San Francisco on Saturday morning, thinking I was kinda early, but his place was already buzzing with people, tunes, and drinks.

"Nore! You made it!" Leanne beamed when she spotted me.

"Hey, Lea. Happy birthday." I grinned, handing over the gift I brought—some records from bands I knew she liked.

"Oh, you brought me a present, thank you!" she squealed, hugging me. I chuckled, giving her a squeeze back. She pulled away with a grin. "Hey, Cliff and the others are by the pool. I'm heading there soon, but if you wanna roll in before..."

"Oh, I'll track 'em down. Got a spot to stash this?" I pointed to the backpack on my back and the helmet from my bike.

I cruised to the backyard after Lea helped me stash my gear in Joe's room. Didn't have to play detective to find my friends; Cliff, Lars, James, and Kirk were deep in conversation by the pool, dead set on pouring vodka from a bottle into little plastic shot cups.

"Hey, that's not fair!" Lars yelped as I strolled up. "James, you snagged way more than the rest of us."

"Why don’t you pour it yourself, then?" James shot him a look, lifting an eyebrow. I grinned.

"Can't believe you dudes didn't save a drop for me," I teased, making them all look up at once.

"Nore!" Lars shouted, all pumped. I threw out a quick hi to the guys before zeroing in on Cliff.

"So, did Dave give you the green light to be here?" he quipped with a smirk. I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"He doesn't need to give me the green light for anything, Cliff," I muttered, and he chuckled before yanking me into a hug.

"Good to see you, Nore. Hey, what's that there?" Cliff pointed to the bag hanging from my arm.

"Oh, about that... Can I chat with you for a sec?" I asked in a hushed tone. Cliff raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued, but gave a nod. We strolled away, finding a quieter spot in the backyard. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, expertly fishing out a joint and lighting it, shielding the flame from the gentle morning breeze with his hands.

"So, spill. What's the scoop?" he asked, and I sighed before handing him the bag. He opened it, furrowing his brow at the sight of the Metallica record. "Wow. Is the album this bad?"

"It’s awesome ," I said, then sighed. "But... Cliff, Dave got really bent out of shape when he saw this. I just figured... maybe you could hold onto the record for me for a bit. I don't want him getting worked up about it..."

"Nore. This isn't right," Cliff stated, his voice firm. I lifted my eyes, locking onto his gaze, and could tell he wasn't very happy with what I'd just said. "You can't do this. You're giving up on living because of him. First, you move to be with him, and we hardly see each other anymore. Now this?"

"You don't get it, Cliff. Please," I pleaded. "I don't want to fight. Not with you guys, not with him."

"Is he giving you grief because of us?" Cliff raised an eyebrow. I sighed, dropping my gaze, but didn't say anything. "Nore." Cliff held my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. "I can hang onto this for you if you really want. But you gotta tell me you know he's not your responsibility."

"Cliff..."

"Remember what I said when you two started dating?" he cut me off. "If he messes with you, I got your back. Cool?"

"Okay," I murmured, giving a small smile. "Thanks."

"Anything for my fave cousin," he grinned, and I chuckled softly. "Come on, let's get back to the shindig."

Back in the mix with Kirk, Lars, and James, we found the vodka bottle now half-gone, abandoned at James' feet while they all helped themselves to some beers.

"I'm gonna stash this and track down Lea. Back in a sec," Cliff announced, waving the bag with my record. I gave a nod, turning my focus back to the guys.

"Hey, Nore!" James hollered, a grin spreading across his face the moment he spotted me. "There's no way you're sober. You used to be a champ at this drinking thing."

"James, it's ten in the morning," I laughed, and he scoffed, passing the beer he had to Lars and grabbing the vodka bottle from the ground. He popped it open, strolling over and throwing a hand on my shoulder with a grin.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of laying off the booze."

"Of course not," I shot back, raising an eyebrow challengingly. He, along with Lars and Kirk, burst into laughter.

"You gotta taste this vodka. Lars swiped it straight from his old man's stash," Kirk chimed in.

"Yeah, it's awful," Lars laughed, then hiccupped. I rolled my eyes with a smile. I knew my friends turned into total goofballs when they hit the bottle, but watching it unfold while I was stone-cold sober was a whole different trip.

"Come on, open up," James slurred, his words dragging, gripping my chin in his hand.

"James!" I exclaimed, caught off guard, releasing a nervous laugh as I tried to back away. James grumbled, his hand sliding from my chin to rest at the base of my neck, the rough palm pressing against my collarbone. I could feel my skin heating up, my face suddenly flushing. "What happened to the shot glasses?"

"We polished off the drinks and chucked 'em. Come on, you want this or not? Open up."

I scoffed but played along, letting him pour a bit of vodka straight into my mouth. James grinned, his gaze fixed on my lips as I swallowed. He swiped away a droplet that had slid down to my chin with his finger.

"Good girl," he teased, a mischievous smile on his lips as he locked eyes with me. "See? Wasn't that hard."

"Shut up, Hetfield," I shot back, giving him a playful shove, my face heating up even more. He huffed, made a face at me, then strolled off toward the drink coolers without a backward glance.

"Hey! That's my vodka!" Lars protested angrily, before trailing after James. "Get back here, damn it, I haven't finished drinking!"

I watched them go, an uneasy feeling creeping into the depths of my chest. Why did it suddenly feel like maybe I shouldn't have shown up? These were my friends, right? So why did everything seem more complicated than it should be?

"They get really happy when you’re here," Kirk observed. I blinked, surprised by his words. He shot me a smile, but his eyes seemed intrigued.

"What do you mean?" I asked, and he shrugged.

"Just that you can tell they really like you."

I ended up talking to Kirk for a few minutes, both of us getting a good laugh watching Lars and James from a distance. Lars was on a mission to reclaim his vodka bottle, while James danced around him with ease. Kirk turned out to be a really cool guy; laid-back and easy to chat with. Eventually, Cliff and Leanne joined us, hauling in a crate of beers that we gladly shared among the four of us.

When the beer stash ran dry, I volunteered to restock. I cruised to the kitchen, where I found James slouched at the table, his head buried in his arms, the vodka bottle now empty and cast aside at his feet.

"Ah, there you are," he mumbled, his voice slurred, and his eyes a bit blurry as he caught sight of me.

"Are you okay?" I questioned, a tad concerned by his condition. He shrugged. "Do you want some water?"

He grumbled, and I interpreted it as a "yes." Scouting around the cabinets, I found a glass and filled it with water. James promptly downed it, grimacing, his eyes blinking and honing in on my face.

"And you? Don't you need a bit of water too?"

"I'm fine," I furrowed my brow, even though I felt a bit lightheaded from the amount of beer I'd drank. "I just came to snag more beer for us. You should join. By the way, where's Lars?"

"In the bathroom," James grumbled, then he hoisted himself up, clutching the back of the chair for balance. I placed a hand on his back, trying to assist. He scowled. "You said you came to get more beer?"

"Yeah, any idea where it is?"

He pointed to the corner of the kitchen, where some cases of beer were stacked near the stove. I grabbed one of the packs, tossing it onto the table. James nabbed one of the beers, popping it open.

"James, maybe you should take a breather," I suggested, and he snorted.

"Why?" he asked, staring at me with a furrowed brow, his blue eyes defiant. "I've been waiting for weeks to see you, and now that you're here, you don't even want to be near me. At least drinking makes it a little more fun for me."

I blinked, my mouth opening in surprise as I tried to process what James had just said. It's not like I was angry, annoyed or avoiding James at all, but the worry about Dave and my parents reappearing in my life made it a bit harder to enjoy myself this time. However, for James to think that had anything to do with him? That wasn't right.

"This has nothing to do with you," I uttered in a low voice. He approached, his brow furrowed, placing the open beer on the table. "I don't want you to think..."

"Think what? That you're done being my friend?" he took another step closer, and I backed up, hitting the cold wall. He rested one hand on the wall, leaning down so his face was at the same level as mine. My heart squeezed seeing the anguish in his eyes. "Since you moved to Los Angeles, we hardly see each other anymore. You not into me anymore?"

"Don't say that," I whispered, my voice trembling, my eyes filling with tears hearing the bitterness in his voice. As complicated as things were, the last thing I wanted was for my friends to think I didn't want to be with them. "James, this isn't fair..."

And then he kissed me. 

Maybe I should have seen it coming. Perhaps I should've picked up on the closeness and tension that had been steadily building between us since the day he first laid eyes on me. All the hugs, the laughter, the comfort, the advice. The way his blue eyes were always locked onto mine. Maybe I should've caught on sooner. It's not like it was some big secret, especially since Dave got the boot from the band. But somehow, I clung to the hope that I was wrong. That the bond between us was stronger than any attraction he might have. That he wouldn't risk doing something that could change it forever. Something irreversible. 

Something like a kiss.

Instead, there he was, his body pinning mine against the wall, his hands cradling my face, his lips moving against mine with a desperate hunger I never thought I'd find in his arms. For a moment, all I could feel was him —his scent, his body, his kiss. But my blissful confusion lasted no more than a few seconds before it was replaced by panic: this wasn't right. This shouldn't be happening. We were friends. I had a boyfriend.

I shoved my hands against his chest, giving him a solid push. He pulled back abruptly, his blue eyes showing a hint of sobriety as he took in my state—my face all red, breath coming quick as my heart raced, and my stomach filled with a million butterflies. For a beat, it was just us, his eyes glued to mine in a mix of confusion and ecstasy, before anger started bubbling up in my chest, ready to explode. I shook my head, in disbelief, and stormed out of the kitchen in a burst of rage that seemed to leave him bewildered.

I sprinted past Cliff, Leanne, and Kirk, barely registering the surprised looks they shot my way as I bolted to the front of the house. I plopped down on the curb, my breath coming quick, almost in a state of panic as I desperately searched my pockets for my pack of cigarettes and lighter. When I finally found them, it was useless; my hands were shaking so much, my breath all over the place as I tried to hold back tears, that I just couldn't light my cigarette.

"Nore? Shit, what happened?" I heard Cliff ask. I looked up to see that he had followed me and was standing beside me, staring at me with a confused expression on his face.

"Cliff..." I began, my voice shaking. He settled beside me, taking my hand in his, gripping it firmly while his eyes scanned my face, genuine concern etched on his features. "Cliff, James..."

"Did you guys have a fight?" he asked, furrowing his brow. I sniffled, shaking my head.

"Cliff, he kissed me," I murmured, suddenly feeling like I was 15 again, talking to Cliff on the phone about some boy from school who had broken my heart. His eyes widened at my words, his incredulous expression slowly being replaced by one of anger.

"And why are you crying like this? Did he force you? I'll beat the crap out of him..." he growled, letting go of my hand and starting to stand up.

"Cliff, no!" I exclaimed, tugging him by the hand. He looked at me, confused. "He didn't force me. It just happened out of nowhere. I just... Cliff, I have Dave. I never thought James..."

"You didn't know he liked you? Nore, that was kind of obvious," he interrupted, and I groaned in frustration.

"It's not that! Cliff, I don't know what I'm going to do. I don't want him to think... I just wanted to be friends with him. Why do things have to be so complicated?" I asked, my eyes filling with tears again. Cliff stared at me for a moment before sitting back down beside me with a sigh. He pulled me close into a hug, and I rested my head on his shoulder.

"First, let's go back to the party, and I'll get you some water, okay? We can talk to James later if we need to. But knowing him... If you left like that, I doubt he'll want to talk about it."

Cliff was more right than I thought; when we got back to the party, James was nowhere to be found. I tried to cheer up, especially for Leanne and Cliff, but it was useless. I spent the rest of the day worried about James, wondering where he might be, and if I had hurt him beyond repair.

When the party wrapped up, Cliff, Leanne, and I hopped into a taxi to Leanne's house. I had left my motorcycle in Joe's garage and planned to swing by the next day to grab it before heading back to Los Angeles. I tried to perk up as Leanne and Cliff enthusiastically decided what to order for dinner, but not even a hot shower was enough to lift my spirits; I was more intoxicated than I wanted, concerned about my friend, and trying to ignore how the feeling of his lips on mine kept replaying in my head every five minutes, which basically made me want to die.

"You don't need to worry about him. He'll show up," Cliff assured me later, after we had finished off the pizza Lea had ordered for dinner. The news was playing on the TV, and I could hear the water running in the bathroom as Lea took a shower, but I wasn't really paying attention to any of those things. "I mean, he could already be home... I tried calling, but I think Lars and Kirk must have passed out as soon as they got there."

"What am I gonna do, Cliff?" I asked, softly. I was totally lost. Now that all the lines in my friendship with James had blown up in my face, I didn't know what to do — and I didn’t want to deal with any of it. There was already too much on my mind. But I couldn't just pretend it didn't happen, either.

Cliff didn't say anything; in fact, I don't think he knew what to say. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me in for a tight hug. I sighed, shutting my eyes, trying to soak up that brief moment of calm. Wishing it could magically wipe away the ache in my heart — even though I knew it couldn't.

[starfragment1979]

My Facebook memories reminded me that today is Coming Out Day, and I was a little surprised to see no mentions of it on Tumblr unless I go searching for it, but maybe the assumption on Tumblr is just that we're all queer here and so we don't have to say it, ha ha, or maybe it's just that coming out isn't as big of a deal as it used to be. But I thought I'd tell a little story anyway.

I first realized I was queer when I was 15, in 1994, which itself is a funny little story. I grew up in a very tiny, very rural midwestern village that had absolutely nothing going on, but there was a little street fair one weekend in the summer, so of course I went to it because there was nothing else to do. So summer of 1994, I'm at that street fair, and I look at the time and realize it's after 8 p.m. and I start hurrying home, not because of any curfew, but because I wanted to watch X Files. And as I'm hurrying home, I'm trying to figure out why I left this once-a-year event to go watch an X Files rerun that wasn't even one of my favorite episodes. But then I get home and turn on the TV and there is a life size Dana Scully in front of me and I realize all at once, Ooohhh, I have a crush on Gillian Anderson.

(But, I mean, can you blame me?)

For historical context, for you young'uns out there, 1994 was before Ellen DeGeneres came out (1997), before Jill Sobule released the song “I Kissed a Girl” (1995). I guess Melissa Etheridge was out (1993), but the news hadn't reached my little village because I only remember the other kids at school talking about it (with disgust) much later. We had only the most basic of basic cable and the only time I had internet access was when we got an AOL free trial CD in the mail AND I could convince my dad that I wouldn't go over the allotted 10 hours a month this time, and I sure as hell wasn't about to look up gay shit on the family computer anyway.

So I had no queer role models, good or bad, in any form of media, and all I knew about queerness was my own, brand-new feelings and the knowledge of stereotypes. I knew no queer people in real life and the only time queerness was ever referenced by anyone anywhere was to make some crude joke. And at school, I was already getting called a dyke and getting shoulder-checked in the hallway or having my bra strap snapped, etc., so the idea of ever coming out seemed literally suicidal.

So I just assumed I never would. Not only because I couldn't fathom telling people and dealing with the consequences, but also because... what would be the point? Because what were the chances I would meet another queer woman at any point (I assumed queerness must be incredibly rare) and then what would be the chances that we'd be interested in each other? And even if by some miracle that did happen... we'd have to keep it a secret, we'd have to pretend to be roommates, we'd never meet each other's families or go on dates in public, and that was just too unfair to contemplate. But that was the world I lived in, and so I assumed I would just never explore that part of myself.

Things did evolve a bit through the rest of the nineties, and one big turning point for me personally came the following year. The next summer I got to go to my first big concert (Lollapalooza '95) and earlier that year I had read in a Rolling Stone article that Patty Schemel, the drummer for the band Hole, was a lesbian. So I was excited to see them in concert because I was a fan of the band, but also I stared at Ms. Schemel in awe because... she just looked like a punk rocker. Like I had these ideas in my head about what a lesbian was “supposed to” look like, and she wasn't it. Patty Schemel was my first introduction to the idea that queerness could look any way you wanted it to, that it didn't have to fit the stereotypes.

Look at this bad ass:

And even still, it took me until 1997 and after I had left for college to admit to myself in my own private diary that I was queer (at that was only after learning that another musician I loved, Michael Stipe of REM, was queer), and until 2000 to admit it to strangers on the internet, then 2001 to real life people, including my parents (my mom cried, so... there's that). And there were so so so many years where it took courage and the right frame of mind to be willing to leave the house wearing an itty bitty little rainbow beaded necklace because I wasn't sure what kind of reaction I would get from strangers.

I'm just stunned sometimes by how much the world has changed. Like I'm not that old, but I'm old enough to have seen what feels like a seismic, cosmic shift in representation and acceptance both in media and in society at large. Obviously there's still a lot of work to be done and things are imperfect and conservatives/fascists are trying hard to undo all the progress there's been over the past thirty years. But Like the simple fact that there are queer celebrities and queer characters in mainstream media, or that same sex marriage is not only legalized but also not really a big deal any more, or the fact that I can make a public post like this without panicking about who might see it... My scared and anxious and ashamed 15 year old self would have found that unfathomable.

My identity has shifted a lot over my lifetime (which is its own long story) and that is one of the reasons I like the word queer so much, because it lets me be my ambiguous, containing-multitudes self without having to fret about meeting the standards of some label, although if I had to parse it out I would say that right now I'm pansexual and non-binary.

So happy Coming Out Day to those who celebrate. I am queer AF.