#if i did know who they really were i woulda never been with them

[ayyy-pee]

Request cowboy Suguru asking reader out but she doesn’t date cowboys at all. She hates them but then she gives him a chance

hi lovely!!! thank you so much for this request! IT WAS FUNNNN!!! i'm really loving the cowboy au lately so i was SUPER excited to get something out! it's fluffy and sweet and Suguru is so down bad for reader! hope you like it! <3

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Pairing: Sheriff!Suguru Geto x Bartender!Female Reader

Genre: Western/Cowboy AU

Story Warning: fluff and trust issues and Suguru being down bad for reader. what else is new?

Artist Credit: @aransmind

“You again? I already told you no the last time you brought your tail in here.”

You wipe along the countertop of the saloon bar, trying to clean up the mess left behind by beers and shots of whiskey purchased throughout the day. It’s been a long one, and you’re ready to lock up and head home. It’s just a matter of getting this place cleaned up. This bartop is old, the stains still lingering and apparently unremovable. Just like this damn patron who just can’t seem to leave you the hell alone. 

Just like this damn patron who has slowly been worming his way under your skin, despite your best efforts to resist.

Pink lips pout from the other side of the bar, and all you can do is chuckle, shaking your head.

“I haven’t even said a thing!” A man whines. You place his normal drink in front of him, smiling when he dramatically sighs contently after he takes a sip.

You’re back to cleaning up, arranging your glasses. “I already know what’s comin’. Please, no begging today. ”

A soft laugh falls from the man’s lips as he speaks. “I ain’t a beggin’ man, ___. You gotta know that, but you make a beggar outta me every time I come in here and see ya.”

Another chuckle bubbles from your chest as you stare down the man leaning his elbow on your squeaky clean counter now. You smack his arm off with your towel, quickly swiping at the spot left behind. “You’ll just have to keep beggin’ because I said nooooo,” you sing. “And that’s not changin’.”

“But–”

“Sheriff Suguru,” you sigh, no actual annoyance in your tone, because how could you be annoyed when he stares up at you with those pretty eyes of his you’ve gotten used to seeing every day for the last few months? “You’ve been comin’ in here for how long now? Askin’ me the same question and gettin’ the same answer. Don’t you ever know when to quit?”

At this, the Sheriff takes his hat off, placing it on the bar before shooting you what you assume he thinks is his most charming smile. It doesn’t work.

“Now, Miss ___, do you think if I knew when to give up, I woulda made Sheriff?” He combs his fingers through his silky long hair that somehow never seems to hold even a speck of dirt in it, despite you both residing in the dry and dusty desert.

He’s as pretty as the first day he came in.

------

The day Suguru became Sheriff, his buddies brought him into your saloon to celebrate, ordering a shot for damn near everybody in town. Who wouldn’t want to come celebrate the new Sheriff in town? Anybody who was anybody would be there! You were just lucky that the party was happening in your bar, excited to make a good chunk of change for the night.

Did you really want to spend your entire night catering to a bunch of cowboys? Absolutely not. You’re not particularly a fan, but again, the money will make it worth it.

But it’s been almost an hour past close, you’re standing behind the bartop as the deputies are still rowdy and drinking. You don’t mind much, but you are tired and ready to go. Even the idea of making more money doesn’t feel appealing when you’re ready to just crawl into your bath and try not to fall asleep.

“Aren’t you pretty?” Suguru had slurred from across the bar, in the same seat that would soon become his regular spot. “When do ya get off work, Miss…?”

You give him your name, polite but to the point. “And soon as y’all get outta my bar,” you quip, which makes Suguru laugh.

He leans forward, close enough so you could hear him over the noise of his deputies drunkenly singing behind him. “I’ll tell ‘em all to go home right now.”

It’s an offer that’s tempting, but you don’t want to rain on their parade no matter how tired you are. The money will be good, and you need it. So you roll your eyes at playfully, as you ask teasingly. “Won’t you be lonely without all your friends?”

Your cheekiness only makes Suguru grin wider. “Yeah,” he answers quickly. “Probably will be.” He rubs his chin, closing his eyes and pulling his brows together as if he’s in deep thought. “But maybeeee,” he drags the word out. “I won’t be so lonely if a pretty lady like yourself comes home with me.”

You mimic Suguru’s earlier position, closing your eyes and rubbing your chin as you think really hard about his offer. You let the suggestion hang between the two of you, and Suguru takes this time to let his eyes take you in.

Beautiful. Smart, he thinks. Quick on your feet. Makes one hell of a drink, one of the best he’s had. Yeah, he wants you. This town is full of pretty women. He’s not without options. And while he’s already had his fill of some of them, it’s you who’s caught his eye in a way they haven’t. 

He waits for you to give him an answer. But you don’t. Not by any fault of your own. It’s because one of his deputies – Satoru – is now leaning over the bar and giving you his best flirtatious smile now that he’s caught your attention. It’s left Suguru sitting on the sidelines to watch your interaction. It looks like Satoru is getting more out of you than he is.

You’re smiling, laughing as you pour him some water, because he doesn’t drink. But minutes later, you’re still chatting with his colleague, leaned over and a little too close for his liking. You’re supposed to be talking to him, entertaining him. He’s the Sheriff now! Wayyyy more important than some damn bottom of the barrel deputy!

Okay, that’s the liquor talking. But still. He wants to be who you’re focused on.

“Hey, Miss!” Suguru calls, grabbing your attention for a brief moment. “Just waitin’ for your answer.”

He sees the way you seem to barely remember that you were speaking with him before, nodding before you lean your elbow on the bar and yell, loud enough for all to hear, “NO.”

And it…makes Suguru’s heart beat faster, makes his lips curl in a smile that he has to hide behind his whiskey glass. 

Yeah, he likes you. He thinks he’ll come by more often.

------

Months later, and this man hasn’t let up. He’s always been friendly, too friendly in your opinion. That long hair, those pretty eyes and even prettier smile are deadlier than the gun hanging in his holster. He’s a smooth talker, which you’re sure helped him move up the ranks of the town deputies. But you’ve always been resistant to his charms. Or at least, tried to be. 

Sheriff Suguru is extremely attractive, pleasant to talk to when he isn’t trying to ask you on a date, and once again, too friendly. Especially with the women in town. From what you’ve heard, he’s been leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake since he arrived. Which is exactly why you’re not interested in going out on a date with him, no matter how charming and funny you find him to be. You’ll be damned if you end up being another name on his long list of conquests. 

Besides, you’ve dated a few cowboys in your day and they’re all the same; big egos, big mouths and big fuckin’ pains in your ass. And most times not a big enough dick to back all that up. Every one of those relationships were a waste of your time and you’re not interested in wasting any more of it on yet another cowboy.

“Just one date,” Suguru begins his regular spiel. "Lemme take you out somewhere. Promise it’ll be worth it,” Suguru tells you, and you scoff. He sounds just like the rest of them.

“Doubt it.”

“You won’t let me take you out, just one time, Miss?”

“Sheriff, I’ve seen ya ‘round town. You take a lot of ladies out,” you note, watching his eyes widen just slightly. “Why not just ask one of them?”

And it’s true. You’ve seen Suguru in the town square chatting it up with any woman whose direction he looks in. He’s the most eligible bachelor in the town. Kind, handsome, a damn good shot and a damn good Sheriff. Any woman worth their salt wants him. If he were in any other occupation, you’d maybe make an exception. But he’s not. He’s a cowboy.

You don’t date cowboys.

At this Suguru stands, holding a hand up, which he waves a little frantically between you. “Now hold on! I run into a lotta ladies in town. Don’t mean I’m takin’ ‘em out anywhere.” His face is serious now, lips pressed together in a hard line. “I know I got quite a reputation, Miss ___. I ain’t stupid,” Suguru mutters. “I hear the ramblins ‘round town. Not all of ‘em are a lie,” he says honestly. And you’re just about to speak up when he cuts you off. “But, not all of ‘em are true, either.”

You swipe at a spot on the bar, the same stain you know will never come out of the wood. You don’t look at him, you don’t want to look at him. Because you hear sincerity in his tone, and that scares you. It shatters this image you’ve built up of him in your mind of this playboy Sheriff who’s good for nothing but a quick fuck at the brothel. Makes you want to give in because maybe he really isn’t like all the rest.

You don’t know any other cowboys who would be as committed as he seems to be to trying to woo you. Day after day, weeks after weeks, months after months of rejection from you. And yet, he still shows up. He still asks. He still tells you that he’ll treat you right. That he’ll take care of you. Is it really that crazy to think that he’s different?

Giggles coming from the other side of the saloon burst the little bubble you’re in with the Sheriff and your eyes dart to the source. A table of four women, sitting in the back of the saloon and whispering what you’re sure are filthy things as they stare at the back of Suguru’s head. He doesn’t look, eyes glued to you and the way you’re still moving that damned towel over that godforsaken stain that you and him both know ain’t goin’ anywhere.

“I don’t date cowboys, Sheriff,” you mutter weakly. “They don’t take nothin’ serious, and I don’t got time for the heartache.”

Suguru sighs, taking his seat again. “Can’t you see I’m serious about you? I’ve been comin’ here for so long tryin’ to show you I ain’t playin’ any games here, Miss ___.”

‘That don’t change my answer.’ Is what you want to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

You both let the silence hang between you. He lets you get back to work, slowly sipping his drink while you finish tending the bar. But his eyes are still on you, watching how you began gently nibbling on your lip ever since Suguru told you again that he’s really not joking when it comes to you, like you’re lost in thought over his words. 

“Pardon me, Sheriff?” A soft voice calls to Suguru at the bar.

Your back is turned, but your ears perk up when you hear the Sheriff greet someone back, a woman. The conversation is short, her asking him questions that you can’t really hear. There are laughs from her, chuckles from Suguru and then of course, the lady asking him what he’s doing later tonight. The implication is clear, and you roll your eyes, because you almost gave into yet another cowboy and set yourself up for heartbreak.

But Suguru groans, awkwardly running his fingers through his locks as he tells the woman that he’s got plans with someone he’s been waiting to see for a long time.

“Family?” She asks, the disappointment clear in her voice. He laughs, shaking his head.

“No. Well, hope I’m not bein’ too forward, but maybe one day. If she ever lets me in, I think I’ll be able to convince her.”

“Oh!” The woman squeaks, not expecting that. And neither were you, because you freeze halfway through putting a bottle of whiskey back on the shelves behind the bar.

“Special lady then,” the woman mumbles.

“Very.”

She dismisses herself shortly after. And as the noise dies down, and the saloon empties out, you hear the telltale signs of the Sheriff getting ready to go, always the last customer. He sits his hat back atop his head, fishing out his money and leaving it on the bar for you. You meet his gaze, and he gives you a smile. Even with yet another rejection under his belt, he doesn’t seem angry or bitter. There’s no resentment behind his eyes. He harbors no negative feelings towards you. His smile is genuine and kind, like it’s always been every time you shut him down.

“Have a good night, Miss ___. Get home safe,” he says, spinning on his heel.

The quiet jingling of his boot spurs fills the air, and to you, at least in your head, it almost symbolizes alarm bells ringing. And you call out to him, grabbing his attention.

“Sheriff,” you place the towel down, coming out from behind the bar to stand face to face with the man you’ve only ever stood at least four feet away from. This close distance feels more intimate than any other time you’ve been around each other, and your heart pounds loudly in your ears as you ask, “Mind walkin’ me home?”

[snekdood]

my abuser really wants me to feel humiliated by them, but i never do, i only ever feel disappointed and sad and heartbroken that they’re not who they said they were. like, i didn’t even think they were the type to want to humiliate people and bully them.

[charliemwrites]

Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.

Content: Violence, Previous Injury (mentioned), Panic Attack (non-descriptive)

Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.

Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.

Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.

Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.

He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.

Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…

It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.

That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).

So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.

But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.

Johnny’s solution?

“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”

Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.

Mission: accomplished.

Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.

“Luv?”

You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.

“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.

“A word?”

You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.

Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.

Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.

“Sweetheart?”

You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”

Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.

There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.

And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.

When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.

Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.

“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”

It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.

“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”

There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.

“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”

You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.

“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”

The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—

“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”

“But…”

“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”

“Y-you’re not?” you warble.

“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”

“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.

He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”

He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.

“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn’t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”

You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.

“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”

It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”

He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.

“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”

You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.

“Kyle.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Look into that knob from the lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”

“You’ve got it.”

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[munsonson]

𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏『••✎••』

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘜𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴.

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘌𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯/𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘗𝘳𝘰𝘧𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘺

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4

This shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. 

Things could’ve ended far worse than they actually did. Hell, most of the couples in their school tended to make breakups as dramatic as possible, normally painting one half of the relationship as some kind if irredeemable monster, if not to paint them as this sympathetic martyr, than just to save face that it actually hurt. 

In her case, Eddie Munson told her they just weren’t a good match and he wanted to be friends again instead. That was as healthy as they could possibly get. And in the best case scenario, too, she’d still be able to have him be a part of her life. She didn’t think she could stand the thought of seeing him in the halls and not being able to acknowledge him. 

She’d fallen hard and fast for Eddie, embarrassingly so. 

Given the heavy duty of designated driver for the little hooligans she’d somehow decided to adopt with Steve Harrington, she’d gotten accustomed to waiting in the high school parking lot, her nose pressed into the creases of her current novel while she waited for them to finish their important campaigns, all procured from the brilliant mind of Eddie Munson. 

She’d known him before then, too, but only in passing. He’d often make a big spectacle of himself in the cafeteria just to bug the other students, and he held the record as super senior. But she’d never even talked to him until she saw him walk the boys out after a seemingly successful campaign, his arms wrapped tightly around Dustin and Lucas’ shoulders as he praised them.

He’d acknowledged her when he got to her car. 

“My fair maiden,” he’d said, “I apologize for the delay.”

She’d blubbered out some kind of half-hearted response, good enough to make him laugh, and that made her heart go a million miles a minute. 

It didn’t take long before she’d gotten the courage to ask him out, even if it was just for coffee. He was surprised, but he agreed. 

It had been nice, he even drove her home after. She probably should’ve seen the signs then because he didn’t suggest a second meet up, she had instead. And he’d agreed.

It was about a month before they made themselves official, in Hawkins High language, practically married. But it really just meant she got to hold his hand between classes and get quick kisses goodbye when it was time to separate, somehow always on her cheek than her lips. 

She’d thought their dates were fun; it was a lot of pressure since he always left it up to her, never having any other idea than lounging about her home and just watching TV. But she was the one who thought of renting movies for horror marathons, figuring it was up his alley. She thought of bowling and drive-in theaters and picnicking near the quarry for its desolate atmosphere, another thing she figured was right up his alley. 

But things came to an underwhelming end when Eddie approached her at her locker on some random Thursday to tell her things just weren’t working out and he wanted to stay as friends. Despite how much even that had hurt, she agreed. She didn’t want to make him do anything he regretted. 

She could still be friends with him, happily so. That meant she could still sit with him at lunch, hear his outlandish tales, and be able to admire him from afar, even if she was no longer able to touch him and hold his hand. 

“Be honest,” she’d heard Gareth say as she approached with her tray, “what really happened? You know, most guys woulda killed to be able to take her out, the fact she stuck around for months is surprising enough.”

Eddie shrugs, chewing absentmindedly on a pretzel he’d brought. She would pack him lunches when they were together since he always forgot and resorted to eating prepackaged things instead. Since they broke up, it seemed like old habits really did die hard. 

“To tell you the truth,” he starts rather dramatically, “no substance. Pretty face, nice voice, real sweet, but God, boring as all hell.” He runs a hand down his face. The other boys seemed surprised. Dustin and Mike share a look, but say nothing, clearly waiting to hear more. Because there was no way it could be just that. There had to be more. They knew her better than anyone, had been through so much with her. What could be the real reason Eddie broke things off?

“And?” Dustin coaxes.

“And what?”

“Dude, seriously?” Mike scoffs. “She wasn’t interesting enough for you?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Look, she’s a great gal. And I know you guys are super close, which is awesome, but we just weren’t the best match. And I felt like shit that she was putting in all of the effort when I wasn’t interested. Now she’s free to...I dunno...find someone boring, too.” He sniggers, elbowing Jeff beside him trying to get him to laugh, too, but he could see how upset Dustin and Mike were. 

Luckily, for her sake, they didn’t notice her standing there, having overheard everything. Spinning right back around, she’d ditched her tray onto one of the trash bins before leaving the cafeteria completely before there was a chance anyone could see her tears. 

God, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does, she thinks again. He was more than welcome to have his own opinion, but why did it have to be something like that? 

He was right, she wasn’t exactly Chrissy Cunningham or Heather Holloway, being this huge spectacle that made every new day more exciting than the last. All things considered, sometimes too much excitement frightened her. Having risked her life at least once a year for nearly four years now made her yearn for the more simple things. It was stupid of her to think Eddie would want the same. Eddie Munson, who liked to make scenes in the cafeteria and rock out in a bar with his band. He didn’t crave the simplicity of life like she did.

She didn’t go back into that cafeteria for the remaining of the lunch period. In fact, she’d decided to skip the rest of the day completely, knowing she shared three periods with Eddie and right now she really didn’t want to see him. She just wanted to get away, leave herself to her own thoughts to try to calm down. 

Well, that really only lasted for ten minutes because she found herself pulling into the small parking lot into Family Video. She spots Steve’s car at the far end and knows he’s inside. It was childish of her to go running and crying to Steve Harrington, who she knew would take her side and say all the cruel things about Eddie that she couldn’t bring herself to because she really just needed someone on her side right now. Aside from Dustin and Mike, of course. She wouldn’t forget how they jumped to her defense. 

The little bell rings at the top of the door as she walks in, startling Steve into consciousness, who seemed to be snoozing on the edge of the counter, drool pooled across his forearm. He wipes feverishly at his face and blinks unfocused in her direction, trying to situate himself quickly into his customer service face.

“Welcome to Fam-Jesus, you scared me,” he cuts himself off when he at last realizes it’s her. Confused, he turns to glance at the clock hung up on the wall. “Don’t tell me school’s out already? You beat Robin here.”

“No, I’m playing hooky,” she shakes her head, unsteadily moving towards the counter. 

“What? You? I’m sorry, am I still dreaming?” Steve asks dramatically. “Since when do you, of all people, ever skip class? I’d sooner believe Nancy doing it than you.”

“Just...needed a break s’all,” she says with a shrug, looking around. “Keith not here?”

“Nah, he’s off today. Something about a new graphic novel he’s been dying to get. Says he’d have to wait overnight just to get one of the first editions. I don’t know, I don’t really listen to him unless he’s handing over my check,” Steve said. She leans up against the counter, trying to act casual. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t things be okay?”

“Well, for one, having to clarify that things are supposed to be okay when asked if everything’s okay is a pretty big indicator that things aren’t, in fact, okay.” Steve says with a laugh. “So everything’s not okay, then?”

“Everything’s okay,” she lies. “I just...can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

She isn’t sure how to come out and say it without sounding stupid. Better, she can’t figure out a way to come out and say it without sounding completely pathetic. But this was Steve, he was the king of asking her embarrassing things. He even called her once at three in the morning to ask how long you were supposed to leave cookies in the oven for. The follow up question was how to get the burnt smell out before his mom came home. 

“Am I boring?”

Steve tilts his head. “Huh?”

“Am I boring, Steve? Am I boring?”

“No? Who gave you that idea?” Steve snorts, like he thinks it was a foolish thing to ask. “Whoever it is clearly hasn’t seen you handle a crowbar.” He was referencing when she’d nabbed a crowbar from the junkyard lot to fend off the demodogs with him, all to protect the little ones in the bus. She doesn’t want to remember that right now, not when it makes her feel cold inside. 

“Nobody, I just...I dunno, I just think that maybe I’m not as exciting as, like...you o-or Rob or Nancy or, hell, even Jonathan.” 

“Nonsense, you’re a badass! True story, you know I wouldn’t say that about just any...” Steve trails off, finally really looking at her. “Hey...hey, why are you really askin’ me that? Something happen? Someone say something to you?”

“No, Steve, I was just asking.”

“You’re lying,” he accuses. “Who was it, was it Byers? Nancy? Not Robin...”

“No! No, Steve, they didn’t say anything, please just drop it. I shouldn’t have asked.”

Steve’s face eventually relaxes, having realized he knew exactly who she was talking about.

“Munson.”

She shakes her head. “Stop it, Steve.”

“What did he say? I thought he just wanted to be friends, where’s all this coming from?” he asked. There were too many questions being thrown at her. She doesn’t want to cry, especially not in front of him, but as soon as she feels her cheek dampen that was it. Soon she was burying her face in her hands and trying to stop the little whimpers from coming out.

She doesn’t notice Steve leap easily over the counter. He pulls her close, shushing her quietly. 

“Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. She sniffles, wrapping her arms around him. He’s petting her hair, kissing the crown of her head, trying his damndest to get her to calm down and talk to him. He was the perfect person to come to, she now realizes. Her subconscious knew Steve was the answer.

When she finally stopped crying, he at last let her go, giving her some space.

She rubs the tears from her eyes and wipes the tears on her jeans.

“Want me to kill him?” he asks jokingly. She laughs. He smiles again. “What happened? Can you tell me now?”

She told him what Eddie had said, the real reason he’d broken up with her and how she ran from the cafeteria and came here. Steve was reasonably upset, but he didn’t want to make it all about pounding Eddie into a pulp, he knew she needed her friend right now and he was prepared to be just that.

“Hey, screw him,” Steve scoffs, throwing an arm over her shoulders and pulling her back into his chest. “You’re far from boring, believe me, and honestly if you ask me you could do so much better than Eddie Munson. The guy picks his nose. I saw him once. It was gnarly.”

She’s laughing again, playfully hitting him. 

“Thank you, Steve,” she says, “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I just needed someone to talk to, you know?” 

“Well, you came to the right guy. I can’t tell you it gets much better from public humiliation, but I can tell you that you find much better shit to focus on. Like this obviously stellar job. Robin. My new stereo I saved up for. And...well, you.” He playfully flicks her nose. She wrinkles her nose and swats his hand away. “Eddie doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. But I know he’s gonna kick himself in the ass when he realizes he lost a girl like you.”

“Yeah, you’re just saying that ‘cause you’re my friend.” 

“Not true, I also wanna bug you for your famous cookies.” Steve winks.

“I can bring them to you tonight, then.” she said, patting his arm. “I should get going. Um...you clearly are very busy and I don’t wanna keep you from doing your job.”

“I know, such a bad influence. The gateway rebellion was skipping class. Now it’s job defiance,” Steve chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, um...if you want, when you come by tonight, maybe you could stick around? Was gonna rifle through the back, borrow some flicks to waste my evening away. Free to join me if you want? Robin flaked out on me, says she’s doing some band practice with Vicky. Didn’t ask for details.”

She thinks about it and smiles. “Sounds like fun. Girls’ night.”

“Invitation rescinded!” Steve shouts, turning away. 

“No, I’m kidding, I’m kidding, stop!” she protests, giggling. “I’ll bring cookies and pizza, Steve. I’ll be there.”

“Alright, then,” Steve said. “Um...hey, don’t worry about Eddie, alright? He’s just being a dick. And honestly, apart from his relationship with the rugrats, he’s still gonna be a dick. He missed out on a girl like you. Clearly he’s a martian.”

“Doesn’t mean much when I’m from Hawkins. But thank you, Steve. I’ll see you tonight,” she says, squeezing his hand and finally leaving the store back to her car. She left feeling much lighter than she had going in. He was right. Forget Eddie. If he thought she was so boring he clearly didn’t need her around him. She had other friends, friends like Steve.

Smiling to herself, she climbs into the driver’s seat and turns the key into the ignition, hearing the engine roar to life.

Things would be just fine. 

[norris55s]

reputation - lando norris

pop star reader x lando norris social media au

part two - part three

a/n: lando did a very reputation-like helmet and the hamster in my brain started working. rep's songs are also very lando coded to me. faceclaim is soyeon from (G)I-dle

requests are open, but i may get to them late because uni is kicking my ass!

————————————————————————

f1waggossip

f1waggossip: McLaren’s golden boy seems to be newly single… at least that’s what the streets say, considering his last girlfriend, pop star Y/N L/N, has not been seen in months at the paddock following a very public fall out with her former girl squad, and consequent fall from grace from everyone’s eyes. They seemed in love. What do you think?

landonorrizz: honestly, i never understood the hype for her. she has always been a red flag and dramatic!!

mercedesgarage: i don’t get it lol i don’t follow her, what happened?

455chilli: basically she was friends with other singers, models and actresses and they have recently unfollowed her and exposed her for not being as great as everyone thinks

y/nforever: you mean she had a friend group who turned on her out of nowhere? lol what her ex friends have said is based on jealousy

landostareyes: it seems like they broke up but they were really cute together :// i kinda feel bad but she also seems to be the problem

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landonorris

landonorris: p2 cake babyyyyyyyyy

supremey/n: that is my y/n if i’ve ever seen her

formulaonegirl: so they’re still together

carlandocontent: it could be any girl tbh, it’s been months since lando has even mentioned her

papayaheart: it’s even worse if they’re still together and she just won’t show up to support him in races anymore lol

————————————————————————

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y/nusername

y/nusername: Reputation. Out November 17.

Comments have been disabled.

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landonorris

landonorris: Are you ready for it? Reputation out November 17.

y/nlandodefender: nothing has ever been as iconic as a Y/N comeback special helmet i am in tears

landolove: reputation helmet to beat the breakup allegations wasn’t on my bingo card

supremey/n: I KNOW THAT’S RIGHT

————————————————————————

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f1waggossip

f1waggossip: Y/N re-debuts at the paddock.

y/naura: ohhhhhhh i know some of y'all are MAD but my girl will stay thriving with the album of the year

softlylando: came back with a bang, goddamnnnn

mclarengirly: lando is definitely bagging a podium for her today!!

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landonorris

landonorris: i like her for her

y/nusername: Even in my worst times, you could see the best in me. 🖤

ferrariheart: shut up this is so cute

norrisreputation: mans really said we've been together all this time LMAO

babyfaceoscar: where is everyone who was calling her a red flag and saying her and lando didn't belong together?

dailylando: been real quiet since reputation dropped

magicy/n: i woulda stfu too after she released something like call it what you want, nevermind lando's promotion helmet LMAO

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y/nusername

y/nusername: The Reputation World Tour officially began and I can’t thank you enough for showing up for me, when I thought I couldn’t even show up for myself. I might make the same mistakes, burn bridges and never learn, but I know I did one thing right: have the best, most loyal fans. Also, it seems right to thank the man who inspired me to write way too many love songs for this album, the king of my heart, landonorris. 🖤

landonorris: i believe i was also called gorgeous and stuff

y/nusername: I am truly never complimenting you again

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE THREE : PASSENGER PRINCESS !

Starring … ‘Red Hair’ Shanks 📸

SET SCRIPT : “Hey Babbyyyy congrats on 100! For your lovely followers event could I request afab reader with Dads best friend Shanks n some sprinkles of corruption :3 I love youuu bae mwah 😮‍💨🤍”

MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, AGE GAP, use of the title “daddy”, corruption kink, underlying breeding kink (if you squint), Shanks mysteriously has 2 arms, forced orgasm, you’re Mihawks daughter, afab!femme reader.

DIRECTORS CUT : For one of my favorite people on this app @stargirldelight <33 so sorry this took me forever to get to. Apologies, Shanks brings out an unprecedented daddy kink in me I didn’t know I had …

Moving is already stressful enough, add the fact that your dad can’t seem to help you out this weekend and voila; you’re in a pinch. He’s typically off on some sort of exploit around the world anyways, a stoic mystery of sorts. But, your dad did suggest that he come help you move into your new apartment.

Which is fine and all, but you’re not sure how you’re gonna last the already tumultuous move in with Shanks around. He’s your dads best friend, or enemy, you’re honestly not quite sure.

Ever since you were a teen you admired shanks, his warm fuzzy smile, how stern he got when he was mad, and that damn signature red hair of his that you can always pick out from a crowd. You expected to grow out of it as you got older, but you could never quite kick the habit. His voice smooth like honey when he’d stumble in with your father drunk, or when he said bye after helping you move in for college. He’s really your fantasy come true, a handsome man with unmistakable charm that makes you smile even on days you don’t have reason to.

You’re older now, you should be able to handle this. But a man like him ages akin to fine wine, only becoming more and more attractive as the years gain on him. Granted, there was an age gap between you; which is what typically kept your lewd thoughts of him in check.

He’d drive this red dodge charger every time he picked you up when your dad couldn’t, like now. Red hair flowing in his face as you coasted down the highway. He smiles and asks if the boys your age were treating you right while his fingers dance along your shoulders. “Pft, I wish,” you aimlessly laughed, noting that exactly what you desired in a man was right next to you.

“Whaaaat? Cmon’ a pretty girl like you? Really?” He sounded genuinely disturbed by this confession of yours. “You deserve better sweetheart.” His eyes flickering back to the road as you’re a few hours out from your new town.

“I really don’t go out much y’know, and it’s not like I have anything to offer them,” your heard turns as you mumble into your fist. Embarrassed to let the older gentleman know just how little play you get. The compliment he gave you flies right over your head as you try to mask the growing ache for Shanks in your heart (and pussy). He’s always been sweet like this to you, patient and gentle as he places a reassuring hand on your knee. You think nothing of it.

“I don’t believe it, they don’t know what they’re missing. I woulda been all ov-” clearing his throat before continuing, “maybe they’re just not what you need.” He turns the music down as the conversation begins to flow more naturally, tension sparking like electricity in the air as he pushes further and further.

“Oh? And what do I need.” You flash him that look of mischief, one that was saved for when you’d ask him to bail you out of punishment with your dad.

“Someone who could treat you how you deserve, a real man and not some boy.” He can’t control the possessive tone that exits his mouth, it’s just unbelievable to him. After all these years and all those meaningless break ups you’d go through, it was him whose arms you’d cry into. Too drunk off cheap liquor with the sweet but sickly scent of vodka hanging off your breath. But of course, he’d listen. Always the patient type.

“And do I know a man like that? Sounds like you wanna be that guy Shanks,” it was only a joke. Your voice airy as you moved your hair out of your lipgloss. Highway wind was never kind to you.

“Don’t play with me,” and he’s back to serious. The coolness of his words sends a shiver up your spine.

“What if I meant it, hm? What if I wanted you to show me?” Your eyes now burning holes in the sides of his face, his jaw clenches as he battles with his own morality.

“You don’t think I’m a little too old for you?” He sends a glance your way, one that trails from your low cut tank top to the supple skin of your thighs before he’s back to gripping the gear shift.

“Said it yourself, I need a real man,” your knees turn to face him as you let your voice purrr. Mihawk would kill him if he found out about this, but he’s never truly been afraid of the man anyways. Especially not when his daughter is as pretty as you, there’s just so much you don’t know, so much he could show you. It drives him wild.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Eyes straight on the road, but the unmistaken waiver in his voice let’s you know he just needs one final shove before he tumbles down like dominos.

“I’m asking for you Shanks,” you plant a sweet kiss to his cheek; just how you used to when he’d leave town for months on end and you didn’t know when you’d see him again.

For once it’s his turn to be flustered, if he wasn’t so concerned about keeping both eyes on the road he’d grab you himself. “Behave little girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

You squirm in your seat, the problem is you know exactly what you’re getting into. It’s finally what you’ve wanted for years. For the object of desire in his mind to be aimed at you, for your affections to be reciprocated, to be with him instead of being viewed as his best friends daughter.

You’ve driven to your new town before so you’re aware that wherever he’s driving isn’t the right way, “Shanks?”

“What? Thought I was supposed to show you.” A light chuckle leaves him as you’re parked in the back corner of a parking lot, headlights turned off.

“Come here hun,” he pushes his seat back urging you to crawl over to him. It feels so right to be held by him, yet so wrong at the same time it makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. The lack of space pushing you closer to him as his steady breathing makes you feel safer.

“Be gentle Shanks, I’ve only done it one time before.” At that his jaw clenches. A cute thing like you only getting fucked once? It almost makes his blood boil, yet it turns sick when he realizes all he can teach you right here and now. How tight your cunt will grip him as he makes you bounce up and down on him. Oh, Mihawk will kill him indeed; that is if he ever finds out about how he’s stretching out your pussy.

His hands feel so warm on you, rubbing and groping at your skin while you get comfortable. All the attention from him at once makes your head spin, growing needier to get on with it already. “You don’t want it like that though, do you?” It’s barely above a whisper, a nasty vile secret that he somehow knows. All you can do is whimper as he ravages your neck in rough kisses, lips lingering over your pulse points. His years of experience showing as he makes you writhe.

“You want it rough don’t you, t’s ok doll you can tell daddy the truth.” He grins at your hardy whine, swallowing it down in a kiss that devours you from the inside out. His tongue invades your mouth, overpowering yours.

He’s perfect, exactly how you imagined he’d be. Strong arms guiding you further up his lap, helping you wrap your arms around the base of his neck. “Shanks .. more please—” your face hot as you plead for more of him. Feeling how stiff he is makes pride swell within you, was that really your doing? All you’ve done is kiss him, but he groans each time you lean further into his touch.

He leaves pepper kisses on your face and eyelashes, pulling back to look for any doubt on your complexion. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, tugging on one of your curls before wrapping it around his finger. Too intimate, far too intimate for the debauchery he’s about to lay on you.

“Spread those pretty legs wider f’me, there you go,” his phrasing patient as his knees open wider beneath you. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance while you wait in anticipation for anything… “where do you want me to touch you baby,” his eyes meet yours, “here?” His middle and index finger graze the thin cloth of your shorts.

You nod your head profusely, looking down at the space between you with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Shanks snakes his fingers within your walls, teasing the entrance lightly while using your slick to slide in and out slowly. “Remember, breathe,” the slight sting keeps your hold on him firm as you try to adjust. In and out, rhythmically, the pads of his fingers glide along your plush walls.

Your airy chants of his name fill the darkening small space of his cramped car. Hips beginning to bounce on his hand, desperation creeping in with each drag of his fingertips inside you. “Look at you, suckin my fingers in. Almost like you don’t wanna let them go,” he marvels at you, moving your shorts out of the way so he has a clearer view of your insatiable pussy.

“S’creamy, you been thinking about me?” Bold for him to say, he acts like he’s not knuckle deep inside you with reckless abandon for his position in all this. You’re oozing down his wrist as his fingers begin to scissor back n forth.

“Kiss me Shanks,” you ask.

“Of course baby,” he replies.

It’s always him who spoils you, giving you what you ask for. How could he deny you of such a sweet request? The squelch of your wetness grows while a tight knot tries to unravel itself within you.

“Not yet, can you wait for daddy just a lil more?” He can feel that too? Embarrassment hot on your face while your hips grind against his palm.

It’s indecent how sexy he is, toned chest peaking through his shirt, tongue slightly sticking out as he preps you for his fat length, and his deep even voice that praises every movement of your body.

His entry inside you is smooth, almost like he was meant to fit you perfectly. “Oh my god Shanks f-fuck wait—” Your head is spinning, you can feel his dick twitch with each convulse of your own walls.

He doesn’t mind that you’re clutching onto him hard enough to draw blood, no not at all, honestly it’s making him want to burry himself deeper. “Shhh baby, I got you. I got you, just breathe.” Not yet though, he can’t hurt you (too bad). Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but he’s quick to wipe them with his thumb. Kissing your collarbones as if to apologize for the molding his cock does to your needy warmth.

The pain subdues, giving way to a hunger you can’t quite describe; but quiet mouths don’t get fed. “Gimmie more Daddy, please,” truthfully the name slipped out, but the damage was done as it left a shiver to creep up the red heads spine.

Well, how could he say no to that? His hands move from your waist down, molding the skin of your ass as he pleases while his hips experimentally shift up and down. When he hears you sigh in pleasure he knows he’s found the right angle. “Better hold on, gonna give it to you just how you want it love.” It’s in how he reassures you that he’ll take care of you that allows you to let go, letting this be your reality instead of some sick sex dream.

His strength is unreal, he’s lifting you with no problem and then pushing you down again and again. It feels like he’s impaling you, knocking your breath out with each rise and fall of your oozing cunt. “Mhm, fuckkk. Been thinking about this for a long time.” The space between you both lessens as the heat rises, giving way to an erotic composition of pleasure.

Any composure you had flies out the window as you’re left dumb and drooling as the only thing that can leave your mouth is praises of his name. Incoherent babbling about how you never want it to stop, losing yourself in the heat of his body. “So slutty baby, what would your dad think, huh?” He lets his palm rest against your stomach as you continue to bounce. Eyeing where his own outline is visible within you.

“Nasty girl, felt the way you got tighter around me. You want him to know? Know that it’s me fuckin’ his pretty daughter in my car.” His words alone are enough to make that tight band snap instantly with little buildup, robbing you of your ability to think as you cry out meek thank you’s to Shanks. He pulls you back by the hair, watching the way your face contorts as you cream around him; squeezing his cock like a vice.

The flutter of your walls spurs him on, picking up an animalistic pace as you’re used to bring him his own high. Sweat making his hair stick to his forehead as your vision focuses back in. “Think you can do it again? I know you can love.”

You’re unsure what he means but when you feel his thumb start to circle at your clit you’re a goner. The intensity of your last climax causes you to squirm as he tries to rip another out of you. “Stop fuckin running.” When Shanks wants something, he always gets it. That’s the rule. You are no exception.

He can feel his balls tensing at the obscene squelch each thrust into your cunt provides him, he knows he’ll have to wash these seats later; but for now he’s gonna dump his load in his best friends hot daughter.

“Let go.” A harsh drag of his thumb has you coming undone yet again, spurring Shank’s own orgasm where he drags you down flush against him. No where to run as his hot seed fills you to the brim. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff baby.”

You’re left convulsing as you try to catch your breath, slumping against his chest like a noodle. “Di.. dirty old bastard,” you weakly protest, slamming your fist into his chest.

“And yet you still wanna fuck this dirty old bastard,” he says with a laugh, peeling you off his chest to kiss you with nothing but teeth. He suckles on your tongue, making you whimper as he’s still inside you. “That’s what I thought,” he says satisfied.

Maybe he’ll have to be like Mihawk, taking out of town trips. However, he knows exactly where he’ll be going. Right where you are.

Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

A nice story about Jensen Ackles on Reddit. Text:

Poster: I “worked” with him/ for him for several years before I realized he was a celebrity/ on a major tv show.

I swear he is the most humble, genuine, and respectful man I’ve ever worked with. Probably why I never would have guessed he was famous.

Question: What did you do for him?

Poster: Full disclosure- this was from 2011 to 2012 (ish) so I dont remember the smaller details of our interactions, but anyway…

I worked at a high end “executive car service”. Basically wealthy business people, agents, sports players, etc. would book us for an SUV or town car to take them to meetings, the airport, whatever. We didn’t have limos or party busses or anything, it was strictly for professionals in a professional setting.

Anyway, I had been talking with Jensen usually twice a week for a good 6+ months. I’d book him trips to the airport in Canada and Malibu? I think that’s where the CA side was. All I really knew was he “traveled a lot for work” and his wife and new baby were at home.

I worked with major assholes, which was to be expected. Attorneys assistants especially. They would get fired if they didn’t use the right colored post-it. That kinda crap. So they understandably were always stressed the hell out, which would get taken out on me. Whatever. That’s all part of the game.

But anytime I answered the phone and it was Jensen, I knew at least for those few minutes my job would actually be enjoyable. He’d always ask about ME. How my day was, what the weather in SoCal was like since he’d be on his way there. Small talk, but always SO damn nice. He’d occasionally mention how he’d miss his family during the longer trips or tell me how it’d be a short stay that particular week so he’d be able to get back home to his baby. SO sweet.

One day months later the owner of “my” company called me to ask about the schedule. Mentioned Jensen was to be picked up the following day and she chuckled and asked, “you know who that is, right?” Uhhh, no? Then she told me he was on tv and was traveling to film every week. Based on how humble, soft spoken, and incredibly nice he was, I figured he was just starting out in the business or was kinda an unknown. That’s when my boss told me he was shooting this huge show, he was really famous, etc etc.

I never woulda guessed it in a million years. With celebrities, we always dealt with their agents. Jensen would always pick up the phone and call me himself. He just seemed like a completely normal, humble guy who didn’t let his fame change who he was.

I worked there for another several months and then moved onto a different company, but damn did I miss “working” with him. I always knew there’d be no drama when he called.

To this day I still haven’t seen him in anything (or even a single episode of Supernatural) but I’ll always hold a soft spot for him just based on the way he treated me. I was relentlessly harassed but he was always so, so kind.

[justjensenanddean]

Full disclosure- this was from 2011 to 2012 (ish) so I dont remember the smaller details of our interactions, but anyway…

I worked at a high end “executive car service”. Basically wealthy business people, agents, sports players, etc. would book us for an SUV or town car to take them to meetings, the airport, whatever. We didn’t have limos or party busses or anything, it was strictly for professionals in a professional setting.

Anyway, I had been talking with Jensen usually twice a week for a good 6+ months. I’d book him trips to the airport in Canada and Malibu? I think that’s where the CA side was. All I really knew was he “traveled a lot for work” and his wife and new baby were at home.

I worked with major assholes, which was to be expected. Attorneys assistants especially. They would get fired if they didn’t use the right colored post-it. That kinda crap. So they understandably were always stressed the hell out, which would get taken out on me. Whatever. That’s all part of the game.

But anytime I answered the phone and it was Jensen, I knew at least for those few minutes my job would actually be enjoyable. He’d always ask about ME. How my day was, what the weather in SoCal was like since he’d be on his way there. Small talk, but always SO damn nice. He’d occasionally mention how he’d miss his family during the longer trips or tell me how it’d be a short stay that particular week so he’d be able to get back home to his baby. SO sweet.

One day months later the owner of “my” company called me to ask about the schedule. Mentioned Jensen was to be picked up the following day and she chuckled and asked, “you know who that is, right?” Uhhh, no? Then she told me he was on tv and was traveling to film every week. Based on how humble, soft spoken, and incredibly nice he was, I figured he was just starting out in the business or was kinda an unknown. That’s when my boss told me he was shooting this huge show, he was really famous, etc etc.

I never woulda guessed it in a million years. With celebrities, we always dealt with their agents. Jensen would always pick up the phone and call me himself. He just seemed like a completely normal, humble guy who didn’t let his fame change who he was.

I worked there for another several months and then moved onto a different company, but damn did I miss “working” with him. I always knew there’d be no drama when he called.

To this day I still haven’t seen him in anything (or even a single episode of Supernatural) but I’ll always hold a soft spot for him just based on the way he treated me. I was relentlessly harassed but he was always so, so kind.

Reddit

Someone who worked for Jensen when he lived in Malibu, shares her experience.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Shades of Grey

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

That's the thing about illicit affairs (they lie and they lie and they lie)

(In which a masochistic writer makes things difficult for herself and makes things even messier than they were before)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, a little bit of Hurt/Comfort and Fluff as always

Words: 7.2K (nice and short as always)

TW: Explicit Sexual Content (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Cheating

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job of sticking to my deadlines, who woulda thunk it? Fun fact, I'm at ~ 50 google-doc pages with this fic and despite my constant "trying to write less" rants, I'm actually lowkey proud of that. Anyways, there's a pretty clear hint (I am not a subtle person) as to why what happens at the end happens and if you pick up on it, I promise it'll save you from losing your minds till I write part 4. Also a couple of logistical details about the Cayman Islands are probably off but it's what worked so it's what I did, just pretend lol. Per usual, I did edit, there's probably still typos any way, feel free to point them out. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading and have a wonderful rest of your week lovelies!

August 2021

The fight was inevitable but neither of them can tell you what really lit the flame. One second they had been fine (well as fine as two girls who knew tonight was their last night in a while could be), the next they were hurling bullets at each other. There’s a subconscious part of Azzi’s brain that tells her to grab Paige and duck for cover, to preserve whatever little bit of friendship they can. But her whole body vibrates with anger as Paige’s words crash around her like a tsunami, drowning out the good angel on her shoulder that’s pleading with her to stop. 

“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,” Paige sneers, and that mean smirk on her face just doesn’t quite fit right, “I don’t know what I was thinking with that honestly. You’re not built like that.”

Azzi flinches, eyes blazing, “some of us want to be more than just another good UConn player.”

“That’s what all the people not good enough to play for UConn say,” Paige retorts bitterly and Azzi doesn’t think she knows this girl standing in front of her, one whose words are aimed to make her cry instead of laugh. 

“Not good enough and yet you still wanted me on your team.”

“Nah you know what, my bad, I didn’t realise you’d fucking stab me in the back like that, ” Paige hisses, “you’re a fake as fuck friend and you’d probably make a shit teammate.”

Azzi’s never had a heart attack. She doesn’t even fully think she knows what a heart attack really is. But she’s certain this pain in her chest can’t possibly be anything less than one. It starts at her heart and then spreads to her lungs and then floods through her body, until she can’t move, she can’t breathe. 

“You don’t mean that,” she whispers. 

Paige hesitates, as if suddenly aware of the fragility of the moment, her voice considerably softer when she speaks but she doesn’t take it back, “ real friends choose each other.”

“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, it’s the worst thing she could do in the moment and Paige’s eyes flash with anger, “you’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“Watch your fucking mouth-”

“Don’t you even dare. You say all that shit to me and now you can’t hear some of it back? Contrary to what you might think Paige, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you. My decision for where to spend the next four fucking years, does not revolve around you,” Azzi’s voice rises with each word. 

Fighting is cathartic in a way. They’ve spent almost a year delicately tip-toeing around the subject, growing further and further apart and yet still holding on for dear life. And Azzi doesn’t want to let go, but everything feels burning hot, and her hands are starting to blister. 

“Oh you’ve made that very clear,” Paige bites back, “you’ve made it very clear just how little I mean to you.”

“Because I chose a different school? That’s all it took Paige, seriously? That’s all it took for you to call our friendship fake?”

“No what it took Azzi was you being a fucking liar.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

Paige scoffs, her voice taking on a pitchy mocking tone, “ ‘I’d love to play with you Paige’, ‘being on the same team would be nice P’,  all of that fucking bullshit when you didn’t mean any of it.”

“Oh we’re playing that game,” Azzi seethes, “how about ‘Az I’d support you no matter what’ huh? Where did all of that go?”

“Maybe if you didn’t make stupid decisions then.”

“No, actually choosing not to play with you might have been my smartest decision yet,” as soon as the words are out, there’s a part of Azzi that wishes she could wrench them back in. 

“Right,” Paige’s voice is eerily quiet now, “well I hope that works out well for you then. Go to UCLA Azzi, have a great fucking life and stay the fuck away from mine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Azzi takes a cautious step towards the blonde and almost immediately, Paige steps backwards, her expression suddenly blank. The change to indifference is somehow worse than the previous malice, “Paige-”

“Fuck this, I’m going home,” Paige says resolutely, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as she reaches for her phone and wallet. 

“We need to talk this out, we need to try and fix this,” Azzi all but pleads, trying to position herself in front of the persistent older girl who’s trying to make her way to the door. 

“I don’t know if I want to fucking fix this,” Paige yells, shaking away Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” her voice breaks as she says the next words, “I don’t even think  I wanna be friends.”

When Azzi’s 14, Paige Bueckers dribbles through a USA basketball camp court straight into her life and teaches her all about how one person can come into your life and carve out a permanent shelf. When Azzi’s 16, Paige’s casual smiles and not-so-insignificant touches teach her all about the complicated space in-between just friends and something more. When Azzi’s 18, Paige says those words, ones that sound a lot like giving up, and teaches Azzi that sometimes in life, even the people you thought would never make you feel this way, are the ones who'll break you the most. And that’s the day Azzi makes a promise to herself that she’ll never give someone that part of herself again, unaware that when she’s 20, Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken. 

***

July 2023

Azzi doesn’t know what god she pissed off to get herself into this position, stuck in a booth with Zoe on one side and Paige on the other. Her girlfriend’s left hand is placed firmly on her thigh and Azzi has to fight the vehement urge to shake it away because Zoe’s normally soft, sweet touch feels itchy and heavy. But the way Paige’s biceps are pressed against hers might be even worse. Every time the blonde moves a little, the sliding of her smooth skin against Azzi’s arms, sends a jolt of electricity through her veins. And Azzi doesn’t know when she became that girl, the girl who already has someone to hold her but is desperately craving somebody else’s touch. 

When people’s girlfriends surprise them with an unexpected visit, the appropriate reaction is to be overwhelmed with happiness. Except since she’d met her, Azzi’s summers have always belonged to Paige. With them having lived in separate states most of their lives, it was the one time they got to be with each other for an extended period of time. It was an unspoken rule really, one that they had subconsciously still followed the year before when Azzi had shown up at Paige’s door, even if they’d only gotten the last couple of weeks of the season; summer was theirs. So, when Zoe had shown up that afternoon with a bright smile and shining eyes, all Azzi had been able to register was a sense of loss as Paige pulled her hand out of Azzi’s. 

Introductions had been somewhat awkward. Her parents knew of Zoe, but hadn’t met her yet. They were nice of course, her dad pulling the shorter girl into one of his bear hugs and her mom giving her a warm smile. Jon and José were more awkward, nodding their greetings but making no move to actually welcome her. Paige had managed to muster up a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shake the other girl’s outstretched hand. And then there was Drew, whose normally goofy smile seemed to have disappeared. 

“Who are you?” the young boy had asked quizzically, his eyebrows crinkling together. 

“Oh umm, I’m uh- Azzi’s girlfriend,” Zoe had replied, the last word causing Paige to involuntarily flinch. 

Drew had looked over to Azzi then, his eyes wide and accusing, “you can’t be Azzi’s girlfriend.”

“Is that so?” Zoe hummed, clearly not taking him seriously. 

“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.”

The silence after had been deafening, as Azzi tried to stop herself from choking on air. Eventually Paige had regained her senses first, apologising for her younger brother’s lack of filter (“he says stupid things all the time”) and then Azzi’s dad had swooped in before things could possibly get any more awkward, proposing that they all go out to dinner. And that’s how Azzi has ended up here, shuffled in a booth, opposite her parents, with Paige on one side and Zoe on the other. Life really and truly isn’t on her side these days. 

“So girls, what are y’all pizza orders?” Tim asks jovially. Azzi’s brothers and Drew, desperate to go enjoy the sun (and avoid Zoe), had already told them their orders before zooming to the park right outside the restaurant. 

“Oh uh- Az you wanna share a Margherita pizza?”

“Azzi and I’ll just have our usual.”

It’s as if the world wants Azzi to suffer as both Zoe and Paige immediately look at her expectantly. The girl in question keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, unsure how to best handle this predicament by doing anything other than maybe just running out of the restaurant. 

“What’s your usual?” Zoe asks, her voice all curiosity and no ill-intent. 

“Grilled chicken and bacon with spinach and onions.”

“But Azzi doesn’t like onions, she says they make-”

“They make her breath smell I know,” there’s a hard edge to Paige’s voice, “but she-”

“She can’t pick them off. She can’t pick anything off of her pizza because it takes-”

“It takes the cheese off, I know that too. That’s not what I was going to say. She doesn’t eat them because she thinks they make her breath smell but she does like them. It’s just-,” Paige’s eyes flare with mischief, “she only eats them around people who are close to her. Guess you’re not quite there yet.”

Since Azzi had mustered up the courage to finally tell Paige about Zoe, right before summer break started, Paige had been nothing but respectful, supportive even. Until tonight apparently and Azzi doesn’t even know to react to the fact that her best friend has started a pissing contest over fucking onions. 

“Right,” Zoe bites her lips, her ever-present smile slipping slightly as she slowly pries the menu out of Azzi’s hands and looks at her with hopefully eyes, “but we’ll get the Margherita tonight babe?”

“I-” and Azzi really should say yes, side with Zoe like the good girlfriend she is, except, well, all she can think about is that Paige hasn’t smiled since the California girl had arrived in D.C., “I think um- I’ll stick to my usual Zo, I’m sorry.”

She’s a terrible girlfriend, because immediately Zoe’s smile fades, and Azzi barely notices it, too busy watching Paige’s grin light up her face. Her baby blue eyes sparkle as if she’s won some important battle and it’s not even dark yet, but Azzi swears it feels like the stars have come out. 

“Okay,” Tim says slowly, looking between the three younger girls, as he waives over the waitress, “if that’s decided then.”

The issue with Paige being pretty, is that nobody’s really immune to it, including the cheerful waitress that practically skips over to serve them. Her eyes glaze over a little bit as they roam across the blonde’s face and then to her arms before drifting down to her torso. Paige’s tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination, exposing both her muscled biceps and toned torso and Azzi doesn’t need an x-ray to know the widely appropriate thoughts going through the waitress’s head. The feral roar of mine takes birth in her stomach and the quieting whisper of she’s not does little to subdue it. 

“I’m Libby,” the waitress says, tongue darting across her lips, eyes solely focused on Paige, “and I’ll be your server today.”

Libby collects orders dutifully, polite and agreeable, but doesn’t once fully look away from the blonde, practically drooling once she finally gets to her, “and what can I get for you to drink babe?” 

Azzi’s not sure whether it’s the sultry tone or the nickname that gets Paige’s attention, but all of a sudden her best friend is staring up at the waitress with her own flirty smile. She likes to think she’s not a particularly violent person, but Azzi thinks she might end up in jail for homicide tonight. 

“Well babe,” Paige winks, Azzi wants to die, “what would you recommend?”

Libby smirks, clearly feeling triumphant as she leans on the table, one hand reaching out to brush Paige’s forearm, “sex on the beach.”

Several things happen at once. Tim chokes on a breadstick. Katie immediately thumps him on the back. Zoe lets out a laugh. Azzi’s nails break the skin of her palm, drawing blood as she fists both of hands. And then-

“She has a girlfriend,” it’s a blatantly untrue but all Azzi can think about is stopping this  random girl from eye-fucking her Paige. It does the trick, Libby’s eyes go comically wide, as she steps back from the table, from Paige. 

“She does?” Tim asks. Next to him, Katie, shoots her daughter a knowing look that veers on the edge of disappointment. 

Azzi stutters under the heat of Paige’s glare, the blonde clearly unamused by her lie, “I uh- I mean um- it’s not official but um yeah,” she doesn’t even sound convincing to herself, “I’m uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She practically shoves Paige out of the booth so she can climb out of it herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart hammers in her chest and she tries to block out the sound of Paige’s being questioned by her dad, as she rushes into the restroom. 

There’s no amount of water she could splash on her face to make this heat go away, but she tries anyway, unsure of when the tap water starts to blend in with the tears streaming down her face. The unsettling anger of how dare she flirt with another girl beating in her heart is replaced by the guilt of i’m not allowed to feel this way thrashing around her rib cage. It hurts all the same, as Azzi clutches her chest, trying to even out her breathing.

She doesn’t hear the door open or close until, “What the fuck was that?”

“Get out,” Azzi whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the mirror, “just give me a second okay?”

“Oh no, no, no, you owe me a huge fucking explanation right now,” Paige hisses, “what the fuck was that bullshit? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“It was a joke-” before Azzi can even finish the sentence, there’s a hand on her biceps, forcing her to turn around. When she opens her eyes, Paige’s face is far too close to her own and when she tries to move back, she’s trapped with the cool edge of the sink. It’s too much, the proximity, the tension, the lingering touch of Paige’s fingers curled around her arm. 

“Stop lying,” Paige bites out. 

“It just slipped out babe,” and fuck, Azzi absolutely hadn’t meant to add that last part, hadn’t meant to make it so obvious what exactly had triggered her little outburst. Realisation flashes across Paige’s face, as she takes a step back, letting go of Azzi, and the distance should be freeing, but instead it just makes her feel lost.  

“That’s what this is about?” the blonde asks in disbelief. 

“Yes- no- I don’t know, okay,” Azzi’s voice is high-pitched, “I’m sorry okay. I’ll tell the waitress it was a joke,” she lets out a humourless laugh, “I didn’t mean to fucking cockblock you.”

“Cockblock me? Dude I wasn’t trying to fuck the waitress what the fuck?”

“Could’ve fooled me babe,” Azzi sneers. 

Something menacing flashes in Paige’s eyes, “stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t like me calling you babe. You didn’t seem to have a problem when it was her.” 

“Oh my fucking god Azzi,” Paige throws her hands up, “you don’t get to do this. Not when your girlfriend is sitting right there.”

The reminder of Zoe is like being splashed with cold water and Azzi feels everything inside of her freeze. She grips the edge of the sink, trying to find some semblance of balance as Paige continues to glare at her. 

“For the past few hours, I have had to hear your girlfriend call you every fucking nickname in the book. I have had to watch her kiss you and move your hair back and grip your fucking knee under the table,” with every sentence, Paige inches closer and closer, until she’s accentuating every word by pushing her index finger into Azzi’s chest, “and you can’t even fucking deal with me calling some other girl babe?”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers when Paige’s voice breaks on the last word. Their faces are so close, she can feel the other girl’s uneven breathing all over her skin. And it takes everything in her to not cave in and reach a hand out to caress away the tear that's threatening to fall from the blonde’s tearline. 

“It’s been hell Azzi,” Paige spits out, “so you don’t get to be upset if I want to fuck someone-”

Something snaps and before Paige can complete the offending sentence, before she can imprint an image that will forever haunt Azzi’s mind, Azzi silences all the warning bells of why she really shouldn’t, and pulls her best friend into a searing kiss. Immediately, Paige’s hands come to rest against Azzi’s hips, pressing her firmly against the edge of the sink. It’s as if they’re trying to meld their bodies together, both of them gripping each other as close as possible. Outside, it’s a summer evening of clear blue skies, but here in this random restaurant restroom, lightning strikes.

Paige bites at Azzi’s bottom lip and then traces her tongue over the bruise she’s created, smirking when it elicits a gasp from the younger girl. Lips still firmly moving against Azzi’s, her hands work expertly on the buttons of Azzi’s tight shorts. The sensation of everything Paige is all-consuming and Azzi feels like she’s drunk on the taste of her best friend’s skin, as she moves away from Paige’s lips, to pepper kisses on her neck, before moving down to suck a mark into her collarbone. Mine, mine, mine. 

“Fuck Az,” Paige moans when Azzi’s teeth grate against her skin and it’s the brunette’s turn to smirk. But her cockiness is short-lived when Paige’s fingers finally find their way into her now unbuttoned shorts. They press down on her clit through her underwear, making her whine. 

A cry of “Paige,” escapes her lips when the blonde slides Azzi’s panties to the side, her middle and index finger beginning to rub circles around the younger girl’s clit in a tantalisingly slow rhythm. 

“So wet, so fucking wet for me,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with want, as she brings her free hand to cup Azzi’s jaw, forcing her best friend to look her in the eyes. It scares Azzi, the sheer amount of emotion she can see swirling in the blonde’s eyes. There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them. 

“Please,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, as the older girl’s fingers slip from her clit to tease against her soaking entrance, dipping into her folds but not giving her what she wants. 

“If you want something baby,” Paige traces Azzi’s lips with her thumb, “you have to ask for it.”

Azzi's hands moved away from where they had been firmly gripping Paige’s waist, to wrap around her neck. She bites softly against Paige’s left earlobe, eliciting a low groan, before bringing her lips as close to the blonde’s ears as she can, “I want you to fuck me.”

It’s all it takes, Paige finally gives Azzi what her body’s so desperately craving, for far longer than she’s willing to admit, pumping two fingers into her pussy, while her thumb stimulates her clit. And fuck, Paige knows exactly what she’s doing, fingers curling in the exact right spots and Azzi feels like she’s floating or flying or falling, maybe all of the above. 

“Please, please, please,” Azzi babbles incoherently, burying her face in the crevice of Paige’s neck, tears beginning to blur her vision. Because, it’s too much, the ecstasy, the fact that it’s Paige behind the ecstasy, the fact that this is better than her wildest fantasies. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige praises, fingers starting to move faster, “taking my fingers so fucking well Az, think you can handle one more?”

Azzi whines in response. Paige pushes in a third finger, both of them letting out identical sighs of pleasure. She’s slow for a second, giving Azzi time to adjust but-

“Fuck, Paige, faster, please,” the younger girls moans, grinding fervently, desperately,  against Paige’s fingers, trying to create more fiction. 

“Anything for you Az,” Paige whispers, and even in the high of the moment, Azzi knows those words are about more than sex, “whatever you want.”

As Paige’s fingers begin to move at a rapid pace, curling around her g-spot, over and over and over, Azzi can feel that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Her fingers claw at Paige’s neck in warning, too worked up for words. Paige nudge’s Azzi’s face out of her neck, free hand cupping the younger girl's jaw. 

“Come apart for me baby,” she whispers before pressing their lips together. 

Azzi’s hips stutter as her orgasm rolls all over her, pussy clenching around Paige’s fingers, as she moans into the older girl's mouth. Spent, her body goes limp, her best friend’s  firm grip pressing her against the edge of the sink, the only thing anchoring her and keeping her uprights. Paige slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi’s pants and the loss of contact feels wrong. It’s instinct really, as Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand and brings it up to her mouth, sucking each of the older girl’s fingers clean one by one, and it’s worth it for the way Paige looks wrecked. 

“Az-” she begins softly, eyes filled with questions but before Azzi can even think about any answers- 

“Azzi,” reality crashes and burns around the two girls as Zoe’s voice calls out for her girlfriend. The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Panic takes the place of pleasure as Paige and Azzi jump apart from each other and the realisation of their surroundings hits both of them at the same time. Sweat sheens against Paige’s collarbone and Azzi’s lips are bruised, her eyes still glazy. Their identical dishevelled demeanour gives away far too much. Just as the restroom door creaks open a little, Azzi dives into one of the stalls. 

“Oh, hey Paige,” guilt pools in Azzi’s stomach at the sound of Zoe’s innocent voice, as she presses her ear against the stall door,  “is Azzi in here? She’s been gone for like 20 minutes.”

“She- she was,” Paige stutters, and Azzi hates herself even more for putting her best friend in this position, “I-uh I think she um- she wanted some fresh air.”

“Ah okay, I’ll go try and find her,” Zoe pauses, “are you okay? You look a little flustered.”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Paige assures in a high-pitched voice, “just uh miss my girlfriend you know.”

Azzi flinches at the lie. She’d made such a fucking mess today. The lying, the cheating, all of it was so out of character and all of a sudden, she feels dirty. Tears brim in her eyes as she begins to process the gravity of what she’d done. And perhaps the worst part of it, is that she can’t find it in herself to fully regret it. If she could turn back time, she doesn’t know if she’d do anything different. Because when it comes to Paige, Azzi’s fine living in shades of grey. 

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Zoe says slowly. 

There’s a pause and Azzi knows the words neither did I are floating in Paige's mind before she answers, “yeah, it’s uh- it’s new.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” the sincerity in Zoe’s words hit like stones, rupturing whatever built up image of i am a good person Azzi had ever had of herself

“Thank you,” Paige replies quietly. 

“It just-,” Zoe draws in a breath, “Azzi she- she worries about you a lot you know. Even before- you know- when you guys weren’t- you know? Like I think she thinks about you a lot,” there’s an unmistakable wistfulness in Zoe’s voice, “ like- if you’re doing okay and all that. And I don’t- I don’t even know you but I know she wants you to be happy- and- and I want whatever Azzi wants- so- so if you’re happy- that’s good.”

“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Paige sounds as guilty as Azzi feels.

There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?”

Zoe’s voice is laced in insecurity and hopefulness and Azzi wishes she’d never brought this girl into her mess in the first place. The sun-kissed Californian had been a classmate who had accidentally stumbled upon Azzi mid-breakdown on a random Thursday. One second she was hesitant, the next she was spilling her woes to a stranger, tired of holding it in. And from then on Zoe had been on a mission to just be there. She’d never hidden her intention, always clear that she wanted more than friendship and Azzi, despite knowing that her heart didn’t really have space for anyone else, had let her loneliness be her guide and given in to the urge to just let someone hold her. But the truth is that while every other second spent with Zoe was filled with mentions of Paige’s name, every moment spent with Paige was never about anything else other than her. 

“She- she does, she seems happy,” Paige can’t bring herself to say the with you. The blonde sounds defeated, as if the admission that Azzi could possibly be happy with someone else has taken everything out of her. 

“Good, it means a lot,” Zoe’s voice is lighter now, like there’s a smile hidden in it, “especially from you. Thank you. I’ll uh- I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Azzi waits for the sound of footsteps shuffling and then the sound of the door clicking behind Zoe, before prying herself out of the stall. Paige is hunched over the sink, face buried in her hands. And the words my fault, my fault, my fault imprint themselves all over Azzi’s heart. 

“Your girlfriend’s looking for you,” Paige says, not bothering to look up. 

“Paige I-”

“Just go Azzi, we’ll just” Paige scoffs, “we’ll just play pretend again,” the walls are up again and Paige is unreachable in her castle built from the ashes of the purity in their friendship that they’d just sacrified for a fucking quickie in a barely-lit restroom. And maybe Azzi should say something, maybe she should stay and see if she can fight her way into Paige’s castle. But Azzi’s no knight in shining armour, not Paige’s, not Zoe’s, not anybody else’s because knights don’t cheat and they don’t lie and they don’t break people’s hearts. So she listens to what her best friend says, she walks out, and she pretends she doesn’t hear the sob that’s let out behind her. 

***

November 2023

UCLA is up on UConn, it should be a pretty momentous occasion and it is. Azzi’s had one of the best games of her career to get her team mere seconds away from getting their first win over the powerhouse. For UConn, so has Paige, except there’s nothing but frustration gleaming in the blonde’s face. The game had been bad for UConn, the cracks created by injuries on full display. And the competitor in Azzi was more than happy to take advantage of that. But the part of her that was Paige’s best friend was stuck on how tired Paige looked. Someone fucking help her, Azzi had thought throughout the game, she literally just came back from injury. 

The outcome of the game is clear and Azzi’s already on the bench getting rest, cheering for her own team of course, but keeping a subtle eye on what’s happening with Paige. Azzi’s eyes follow Paige as she’s finally subbed out. The older girl walks to the end of her own bench, hands coming to rest on her thighs as she hangs her head, face scrunched up in irritation. Paige does that thing where it's like she’s trying to bite of all the skin on her lips and Azzi has the familiar urge to march over and make her stop, preferably by kissing her, not that that’s a thought she’s allowed to have. 

It’s ironic really, the 2,943 miles that had once been the reason they’d fallen apart, is the only thing holding them together. Being out of each other’s reach makes it easier to ignore what had happened over the summer, makes it easier to not give into that same vice all over again. And it makes sense, Azzi thinks, because since she’s met her, whenever Paige had just been a blurry goofy face on her screen, they’d been good at the just friends thing. The moment they could touch though, that’s when lines got blurry. As much as Azzi’s not sure how she survived a year without Paige, she’s even less sure about how she’d survived that one year where they’d practically lived in each other’s skins. 

Things in the handshake line are somewhat icy with both teams being overprotective of their star players. Muhl’s eyes are full of disdain once she reaches Azzi and Arnold barely shakes her hand, only doing as much as she has to, to keep up appearance. Azzi’s teammates aren’t any better, Angelica smiles at everyone until she reaches Paige, and Kiki rolls her eyes at the point guard. But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little. 

“You did good,” Azzi whispers into the blonde’s hair, tightening her hold on the other girl as she soothingly strokes her back.

Paige scoffs, burying her face further into Azzi’s neck, “you did good, I did what I had to.”

They break apart reluctantly, the shutter of cameras ruining the intimacy of the moment. Their hands hold on a touch longer but the minute they finally slip away from each other, the familiar feeling of i’m tired of missing you that seems to always be lingering within Azzi, prickles against her heart. 

*** 

UConn and UCLA don’t have a rivalry but if you were sat at the hotel restaurant in the Cayman Islands on a lovely November evening, you wouldn’t know that. There’s multiple women’s basketball teams present at the restaurant and everyone’s mingling with each other but the Bruins and Huskies seem determined to avoid each other at all costs. At one point, Angelica and Muhl, of course it would be them, accidentally bump into each other and Azzi holds her breath at the icy glare shared between them. She’s not sure how she and Paige ended up with something akin to the women’s basketball version of the Montagues and the Capulets, but it seems fitting with the way her life’s been going, that it would eventually start to take the shape of a tragedy.

It’s around 10pm when Azzi notices Paige moving in the direction of the door, towards the beach. Azzi hesitates for a moment, knowing her need to go after the blonde isn't just one born out of a best friend’s concern, but it’s Paige. It doesn’t matter if there’s inevitable destruction on the other side, it’s Paige and when it’s Paige, Azzi will follow. 

Paige’s silhouette on the beach, glowing underneath the moonlight, with waves crashing onto the shore beyond her, is straight out of a dream. Azzi’s not an artist by any means, but she thinks if she were, this moment would be her muse. The sea wind causes Paige’s hair to flutter with it. Her eyes are closed in concentration, knees pressed against her heaving chest as she takes in deep breaths of salty air. Azzi traipses across the sand, sandals in hand, before falling to the ground next to the other girl. A whisper of a smile is the only acknowledgement Paige offers her as they let a comfortable silence glide over them. 

“It would be nice to live here,” Paige says after a moment, “it’s peaceful.”

“Except when it storms,” Azzi surmises. 

“It’s not peaceful anywhere when it storms,” Paige counters matter-of-factly, “can you just let me have my moment?

“Right, right, continue.”

“Well now I don’t want to.”

Azzi laughs. Paige grins. It’s so easy. It’s so fucking scary. 

“Why’d you leave the restaurant?” Azzi asks cautiously. 

“Fresh air.”

“And?”

Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “it’s gonna be a long season.”

“It always feels like that at the beginning.”

“I know- it’s just- after last year- I just thought it would be different. We’d show the world this time. Be like the other UConn teams of the past. Maybe I just wanted something easier.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder, “you’ve never wanted easy in your goddamn life Paige. If it’s not a challenge, then it’s not for you. Because you’re God’s strongest soldier, and He’ll give you  his hardest battles, right?”

“Right, but sometimes I just don’t feel so strong.”

“Remember what I said in LA? It’s okay to feel that way P. It’s okay to feel however you feel. Let yourself breathe sometimes, it’s good for you. Fall down, let things go, just- remember to get back up and hold on again. It’ll get better, I promise.”

“You always say the right things,” Paige says quietly, and then even quieter, she whispers under her breath, “you make it so hard Az.”

Azzi’s not fully sure what that means. She’s not sure she wants to. Instead she tangles her and Paige’s fingers together, ignoring the way it feels a little too right,  and lets them fall back into a peaceful quiet.

“So,” Paige begins again, after a couple of minutes, “Zoe didn’t make the trip here?”

I’m holding your hand and you’re thinking about my girlfriend. Maybe you’re a better person than me. 

“She can’t just leave all her schoolwork and follow me wherever,” Azzi says, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. It’s true except the part where Zoe had asked if she wanted her there and Azzi hadn’t been able to give her the enthusiastic yes she wanted, starting an unspoken argument that quashed any chance of a nice romantic island getaway for the two of them. 

“She did for the Elite 8 last-” Paige bites her tongue. 

“How did you-,” Azzi’s brain feels dizzy with confusion, “how could you know that? You left- after the Sweet 16, you- how did you know Zoe was there?”

“I didn’t leave,” Paige keeps her eyes adamantly on the ocean, “the team wanted to stay longer,” that’s a lie, Azzi knows her too well, “and so I stayed and you know me, I love watching hoops so I uh- I watched your game.”

“You were there,” Azzi whispers more to herself than Paige at this point. She’d been so sure she was just hallucinating, her heart trying to trick itself into seeing what it wanted to see, “why didn’t you tell me you were there? Why didn’t you come see me after the game?”

“I did- fuck Azzi- I did-”

“Where? I would’ve seen- I didn’t see-” 

“I saw you,” Paige cuts through Azzi’s frantic questioning, her voice heavy with unspoken emotions as she continues to refuse to look at the younger girl, “you and Zoe. Together.”

“Paige-”

“After the game, you were looking for someone in the stands and I- I thought maybe you were looking for your parents but then I saw you- with her- outside the locker room and- it hit me that- that you were looking for her,” Paige spits the last word out as it feels like lava on her tongue. 

In the grand scheme of things, maybe Azzi should let Paige keep this misconception, maybe it would make things simpler if she let Paige believe in the idea that there was someone else Azzi sought out when she was struggling. But- 

“I thought I saw you,” Azzi breathes out, “I should have been looking for Zoe but-” she has to draw in a breath when Paige whips around, piercing blue eyes that feel like they can see straight into Azzi’s soul, “Paige, I was looking for you-”

The last bit of sound is stolen away from Azzi as Paige’s lips crash onto hers. And it’s so different from summer and that wretched bathroom. Something softer, more gentle, but still desperate and passionate. Time slows down, as Azzi pulls Paige into her lap, hands caressing her waist, mouths still moving against each other with perfect rhythm. They only pull away when air becomes a necessity, resting their forehead against each other, as they breathe in sync. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi whispers, moving a strand of hair out the blonde’s face. 

The way Paige blushes is everything, “stop.”

“You are,” Azzi insists, pressing a kiss against the corner against the edge of her lips, “you’re perfect P.”

If she goes blind tomorrow, in the next second even, Azzi thinks that would be okay. As long as this, Paige with her soft Azzi smile, looking at her with that sparkle in her eyes, face illuminated by the shine of the stars, is the last thing Azzi sees. 

Slowly Paige climbs off of her, stretching out a hand to pull Azzi up. 

“You don’t have a roommate right?,” she asks with a soft smirk that transforms into a shy grin when Azzi nods. And this isn’t a version of Paige that Azzi's ever met before, so different from her cocky loud best friend, but she’d like to learn her all the same. 

The hotel staff probably think they’re a little drunk as they giggle their way to Azzi’s hotel room. Azzi barely manages to get the door open, before Paige’s lips are all over her again, drifting everywhere from her lips to her neck to her collarbone. 

“Off, off, off,” Paige urges, hands pulling away Azzi’s shirt and she can’t help but giggle at the older girl’s impatience. She keeps her eyes firmly on Paige as she unhooks her bra, smirking as her best friend’s eyes glaze over. Paige moves to touch her, and Azzi moves back immediately. 

“Nuh huh. I show you mine, you show me yours.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Paige groans but does as she’s told, discarding her shirt and Azzi’s smirk widens. She moves towards Paige, slowly tracing her tongue down the older girl’s neck. 

“Am I?” Azzi whispers, as she backs her best friend onto the bed. Paige’s eyes follow her every movement as Azzi slowly slides down Paige’s pants, and then her underwear. She runs a finger down Paige’s soaked folds, causing the other girl’s body to shiver, “so wet already, for someone so annoying?”

“Fuck y-” Paige cuts herself off with a groan, when Azzi’s fingers find her sensitive clit.

Settling herself in between the older girl's legs, Azzi grazes her teeth against Paige’s left thigh, satisfied when it makes the other girl’s breath hitch,  “if I’m so annoying maybe I should go?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige warns breathlessly, head propped up against Azzi’s pillows. 

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi smirks, as she peppers kisses up Paige’s thighs, her right thumb lazily flickering against Paige’s clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Paige lets out a frustrated whine, “just fuck me already.”

Azzi bites down hard against Paige’s thigh, wanting to leave a mark in the one place no one would ever see it, before looking up at Paige, “whatever you want.”

Paige’s entire body writhes as Azzi fucks her tongue into Paige’s pussy, building pace with every thrust. One hand fists around the sheets, as the other moves to grab at Azzi’s head, trying to guide her in deeper. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck shit Azzi please,” Paige curses, eyes rolling into her skull, “just like that fuck.”

She’s so close, words becoming incoherent noises, thighs beginning to shake, when Azzi pulls her tongue off.

“What the fuck-” Paige almost yells but it turns into a groan when Azzi replaces her tongue with two fingers instead, “shit- FUCK.”

Azzi attaches her now-free lips to Paige’s clit and she can tell it’s too much. Paige’s back arches off the bed as her eyes go hazy. And then Azzi’s above her, fingers still rapidly pumping into Paige, as she places a delicate kiss against her lips. 

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear as the blonde closes her eyes, letting her orgasm wash all over her, “I’ve got you.”

Paige is still for a second, as Azzi slips her fingers out, continuing to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against her best friend’s neck. She squeals when she feels herself being flipped over, back hitting the mattress. 

“What was it you said?” Paige asks cheekily, as starts to unbutton Azzi’s jeans, “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her throat. Trust them to be dorks even in a moment like this. And then Paige attaches her lips to Azzi’s clit and the giggles turn into loud desperate moans. When she slips her fingers in, it’s clear Paige remembers exactly how to push Azzi over the edge. 

“So fucking perfect,” Paige whispers from between her legs, eyes looking up at a blissed-out Azzi with awe, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“That’s you,” Azzi manages to get out in between bated breaths, before her own orgasm hits her, and Paige’s name waterfalls out of her lips like a prayer. 

There’s no more words after that, only shared looks and soft grins as they make their way into the en-suite bathroom, lazily washing each other between stolen kisses. They fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with matching content smiles. 

***

Azzi wakes up alone the next morning. There’s no scribbled note, or even a text. In fact there’s really no proof that Paige was ever there to begin with, except for the ghost of Paige’s touch written all over Azzi’s skin. For a second, Azzi sits in bed and stares out her window. There's a thunderstorm brewing outside (it's not peaceful anywhere when it storms). She watches the raindrops slide down one by one and decides that, that’s the only water that’ll fall today because she won’t shed a single tear and she won’t cry and she most definitely won’t sob. 

She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean.

And then she gets up and goes on with her day. 

[italiansteebie]

something you'd never expect about steve harrington is that he loves halloween.

i mean, he really gets into it.

he dresses up, decorates the house, hands out candy and even goes trick or treating with the kids as an excuse. "i'm keeping an eye on you guys!"

"you didn't have to dress up though,"

"yes i did, dustin. you don't know everything."

even after the upside down bullshit, he still loves it, and maybe he kept his scoops uniform with blood and barf stains so he could use it as a costume. and maybe that was kind of fucked, but he's coping with it.

now, steve's love for halloween is one of robins favorite things about him. especially since his house is equipped for an exceptional party, what with the size and the decorations steve is going to put up anyways? it's perfect.

so the halloween after scoops, they throw a masquerade of sorts. it's quite a rager, despite steve's expectations.

he decided to go as a masked cowboy.

he got the boots, the hat, and he wore a leather vest that ended up giving him a chill for the night since other than some chaps, it was all he was wearing on his body. he did the whole nine yards with a red bandana and some sunglasses.

"hey cowboy."

steve turned, taking in the sight in-front of him.

a guy, with long curly hair, somehow making a jason voorhees costume work.

he tipped his hat, always committed to the bit, "jason." he said simply, thanking the bandana gods for hiding his blush.

"never woulda thought king steve would throw a party like this."

"why not?"

"i dunno. it's cool though, guy seems to have changed."

"for the better?"

jason tilted his head, "yeah man. for the better." he said it as though the decision had been made, and locked in place.

so they sat.

and talked.

all night.

and the rest of the party seemed to fade away. that is until a drunk robin, dressed as micheal myers laid across his lap, "kick everyone out, im tired."

he checked his watch, it was 4 am, probably about time for them to go home. so he stood, gearing up to say his farewell to jason, maybe ask him for his number, but when he turned again, he was gone. only the smell of weed and cheap cologne remained. (and later, he'd find, a lone 36 sided die, that he'd end up asking dustin about).

it's silly to think that steve was falling in love with this guy after only just meeting him, but he'd grappled with his sexuality on a bathroom floor, appropriately, and was ready to dive back into the dating pool. or maybe the puddle, because halloween jason, seemed to be the one.

the only thing is, steve has no idea who the guy is.

that is at least until, none other than eddie munson had a broke bottle pressed against his neck. now he didn't figure it out in that moment, but when they were fleeing for their lives, eddie's hand found a way into steve's, and back at eddie's trailer, steve caught a glimpse of none other than the jason voorhees mask he'd been searching for ever since that party.

and maybe it was a sappy declaration of love, but steve was nothing if not a hopeless romantic.

"don't be heroes."

it was pleading.

steve tossed the dice eddie's way, watching fondly as he struggled to catch it.

"steve- wh?" he could see the moment it clicked in eddie's eyes. steve turned, ready to finish this mess, so he could talk to eddie, to jason, and figure out some shit.

"hey, steve?"

he turned, meeting eddie's eyes.

"make him pay, cowboy."

--

it was done.

they did it.

a few were in the hospital but, hey. they did it. eddie had been in a rough way for a little while, eventually pulling through but not before some physical therapy.

steve was there when he woke up.

had been ever since he'd explained to eddie's uncle wayne how they knew each other and what eddie meant to steve.

eddie cracked open his eyes.

"howdy, cowboy." it came out scratched, and rough.

"eddie," steve breathed, grasping his hand.

"i knew i liked those chaps."

steve rolled his eyes, smiling while tears rolled down his cheeks. "you saved my life." eddie said, reaching a hand to steve's cheek. steve shook his head, "how can i ever repay you?" eddie said, a glint in his eye.

steve laughed, "no thanks necessary," he said, tipping his imaginary hat, leaning into eddie's touch. "there must be someway," he said, southern drawl creeping into his voice. "how about a kiss?" steve asked, eyes flickering down to the metal heads lips.

wayne shook his head at the boys' antics. "will y'all just kiss already? im getting old waitin' for ya!"

eddie laughed at his uncle's testimony, before nodding, "c'mere, cowboy," he said, before closing the gap between him and steve.

"was it rootin' n tootin'?" eddie asked, a cheesy grin on his face as he pulled away. "sure was, partner."

"oh my god."

"hey robs,"

"steve, shut up. eddie's jason! jason from-" robin stumbled into the room. "from the party!" she all but squealed. steve laughed, nodding, "yeah, babe. we figured that one out ourselves."

[moxfirefly]

We really don't see enough of protective Donnie and I would love to see him just snap a little if someone was bothering his S/O.

❝  i don’t like how they keep staring at me.   ❞

❝  what did you just say to them,  you little shit?  ❞

❝  see,  i woulda left it alone.  but you made them fucking cry.  so now you’re gonna lose your eyes.  ❞

[ SHELTER ]  for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public. 

[ RESCUE ]  for one muse to intervene upon seeing a third party making the other one uncomfortable. 

Man it was hard trying to stay within the limit but I hope I gave you good prompts to work with! Can't wait to see what you come up with 🐢💜

*vibrates excitedly* unhinge Don? Oh friend YOU HAVE NO IDEA.

Somebody said Vern is the perfect scapegoat but why not have a little fun and have it be Casey this time 😏

Rated Mature cause Don’s gonna smack a bitch if he’s pushed.

You and Casey had never seen eye to eye, mostly because he came off as an arrogant prick.

And on good days he was just arrogant.

But tonight?

Well.

It was no secret that you had a couple of thoughts on New York’s finest, aka the cops.

One too many times had you seen their ‘shoot first ask questions later’ mindset in action. You’d seen excessive force, you’d seen the racism and mysogony. You felt and knew deep inside that if the day game where the guys were expendable that they be thrown under the metaphorical bus.

It never sat right with you.

So Casey had made a comment about work tonight and you hadn’t kicked on your filter and had retorted back with a snide comment about crooked cops and their ways. It had quite easily crawled its way up beneath Casey’s skin, he’d made a face and he had proceeded to give you the stink eye for the rest of the night.

Once dinner was put away and everyone went about the night time routine, Casey had continued to eye you with a scalding glare. You could tell he was itching to say something, it was frothing above the surface.

Donatello was on dishes duty and had caught the tail end of your comment towards Mikey.

“-I don’t like how he keeps staring at me” You placed the last of the left overs in containers and passed them off to Mikey.

Donnie had casted a look over his shoulder at Casey, who seem to be venting to Raphael about tonight’s little debate.

You found your way next to Donnie, resting your head against his bicep. He could tell you were bothered, while it was a sore subject it didn’t necessarily give Casey the right to cast daggers at you all evening.

“Are you alright?” He asked, careful to not drip too much concern in his tone. He felt your shrug, a sigh blown against his pebbled flesh. “Maybe I was too mean? I should apologize” You spoke softly, there was remorse in your tone. While you were right you also knew Casey was an alley, a friend.

Just as you made your mind up to at least let Casey know you knew he was on the guys side, everything went down the shitter.

Donnie saw you walk over and before you could extend a let ‘bygones be bygones’ apology, Casey had simply snapped at you. It was harsh, it was simply fucking mean. You stood stock still, shocked and taken aback.

Donnie shut off the sink, the clatter of a plate hitting the metal of the sink the one sound in the room. The rest watched in shock at what had just happened.

Donnie’s heavy footfalls alerted you he was there. He got between you and Casey, one look at your watering eyes as you stared at his boots was all he needed. He felt something boil inside of him, the very notion that somebody could make you cry, it was enough for that little part buried inside of him. That little part of him capable of unfathomable violence.

“What did you say to them, you little shit?” Don’s voice made you look up shocked at what he had said. You’d never heard him speak like that, and clearly Casey was just as surprised.

“Come on Don she’s been riding my ass about being some crooked cop! I know-“

“I never said you were crooked, Casey I was-”

“You might as fucking well did!”

His tone made you flinch and the embarrassed frustrated tears threatened to spill. It felt like a spotlight had been shone down upon you. Brought you back to those moments a parental figure would judge you and berate you.

A large hand wrapped around the scruff of Casey’s shirt. Casey eyes found themselves met with a pair of ones much, much angrier than his own. “See I woulda left it alone…” Donnie pushed Casey against the dinning table just as Raph’s desperate ‘Donnie no no no no’ came tumbling out of him. “But you made her fucking cry, so now you’re gonna lose your eyes”Casey honest to goodness yelped and nearly prayed when Raph got between them. “Case, the gym. Now. Don, walk it off, go” Raph’s hand patted Donnie’s plastron.

Casey had forgotten briefly just how tall Donnie was, just how menacing he could appear at his full height with a hand wrapped around one designed with the strength to cause a lot of damage. Donnie’s eyes didn’t acknowledge Raph’s presence, he let them stay on Casey. The silent threat was enough, and with a not so gentle shove he released Casey from his grip. A few items on the table cluttered down along with Casey’s balance and dignity.

Casey’s trembling eyes found yours.

You looked away.

Raph led him away to the home gym. Space and a cool down was the remedy for now.

You looked at Donnie’s back, there was a tremble to his hands and tension to his arms. You took a tentative step, hands grabbing his forearm before you leaned against his arm much like you’d done by the sink. It was enough to quiet his thoughts, his shaking hands to still. He looked down at his side, at the top of your head and sighed.

His arm wrapped itself around you, securely.

This was a side he never wanted you to see.

[lonely-layla]

An aggressive confession pt.2

Umeji Kizuguchi x chubby!fem! Reader

Umeji smiled as he placed his hands on your waist. He now had you in a tight hug as you rested your head on his chest. This moment was really making him happy because he finally got to have the person who he loved the most, it felt great. However, there was still some confusion in his mind. “Can I ask you something?”

You look up at him, in his golden eyes “mhm?” Umeji kept quiet for a moment and thought before finally speaking, “why did you like me, of all people?... I've never really been kind towards you. Why is it that you felt this way for a person like me?” He says adverting his gaze from you.

“I just hoped you were a good person.And I know someone who’s hiding their feelings when I see one” you give him a mischievous side eye as he scoffs.

“Tch- takes one to know one doenst it?” He teases rubbing your back. You two stay there for a while when the bell rings for class. You two walk back upstairs for class to start, when he gives you another kiss on the lips before parting.

You got into my class, which was surprising the class next to umejis’ and when you sat down and started your studies. Musume and her friends could not whisper a louder. “Yall are the shittiest whisperers ever” you turn around and tell them. All they do is laugh “No wonder you ended up with a delinquent reject like umeji, let’s see how long it lasts before he breaks up with your overweight ass!” Hoshiko yells out as they all laugh. The bell rings for class to get out and everyone leaves except them. they all walk over to your desk and they push you out of my seat, you fall on the floor, and they start stomping on your stomach. You couldn’t breathe as you see Kashiko pull out a knife. Your eyes widened as she slashed a cut that went through my uniform and across your stomach. You scream out in unbearable pain they all walk away and leave you bleeding out on the floor alone.

Umeji had just gotten out of his class, he was walking over to your class when he saw the girls run out of the room. He suspected something was up so he walked into the door opened it and his heart dropped to the sight of you bleeding out o m the floor. Before he knew it, he found himself running towards you and he got close to check your wound. He had an idea of what happened and for the the popular girls sake, he hoped it wasn’t true.

Your perception was getting blurry due to the blood loss”Umeji?” Was all you could whisper out. The fact that someone hurt you made him angry but the sight of you being drenched in blood made his blood boil. He took off his coat and wrapped it around the wound. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Stay with me, I’m gonna get you the infirmary” He asked you but you couldn’t respond and you were losing consciousness.

He pick you up with ease and carried you to the infirmary where the nurse called the police. If you weren’t borderline unconscious you woulda asked him how was sable to pick you up so quickly.

He was doing his best to move quickly but not to the point where he would end up hurting you. He was really hoping they'd make it to the infirmary in time before you ended up being unconscious. As he got to the infirmary, he placed you on the bed and they started checking your wound and helping to clean it. They called 911. And they took you away on a bed to the hospital.

They treated you at the hospital and gave you medication for the helping you heal. After a few days, you were let out but advised to stay at home until your recovery was complete. The medication they had given you had made you gain a lot of weight. But that was the least of your concern, until you heard the first knock at your door in a couple of weeks.

Layout opened the door to Umeji standing there, “hey, I just came by to see if you were oka-” before he cold finish his sentence, you engulfed him in a hug. He felt relieved that you survived but was angry to hear that it was Musume and her friends who were behind it all. He really wanted to get back at her because of what she did to you. But he had to keep those feelings back, right now all he wanted was to see you after this whole time.

After you left go of the hug and invited him inside, Umeji noticed the changes your changes. And to be honest, he didn't mind them one bit. He thought you looked beautiful no matter what and he didn't see any flaw in your appearance he especially didn’t mind that it made your ass and breasts bigger. You noticed how he looked at you and it made u feel some type of way. You threw a meal you made for yourself beforehand in the trash so he wouldn’t think you’re eating too much.

Umeji noticed this and wondered why you just wasted a whole plate of food instead of finishing it. Something was up with you. He got snapped back to reality when you speak up. “Would you like something to eat or drink?” You ask awkwardly.

Umeji noticed you subtly trying to clean something off the counter but he never asked you about it. Now that he thinks about it, he was actually pretty thirsty as well so he accepted your offer. “I think I'll take a drink, you don't have to make anything to eat for me”.

You nod and begin getting some juice from the fridge. You know he had noticed your weight gain and saw him staring at you, yo u weren’t sure if it was good or bad to him. Your thoughts raced as you subconsciously chose that it was bad to him. You put the juice and give it to him. “S-so! What’s been going on at Akademi since I was gone” you ask trying to change the subject and distract my mind.

“I don’t know the same shit as always, a couple murders, everyday stuff really” he swirls his drink around drinking from the straw. You slip off to your bedroom to change into something that more loose fitting so he doesn’t notice. And come back.

Umeji's eyes immediately noticed the new clothes once you came out. He wondered why you changed, you were fine in what you were wearing before. But you looked really cute and it suited you so well. Your extra weight gain made those clothes fit you more and it made you even cuter than before. The sight of you made his heart beat a little faster because he really liked what his eyes saw.

“Uhm- do you wanna, watch a movie or something” you suggest to him to break the silence. He suddenly snaps out of his trance state as you ask him to watch a movie together. He felt a little embarrassed when he remembered that fact, he never took you on a proper date so he was definitely up for it. “Sure that sounds cool” he responds, getting up and walking to your room.

Once he stepped inside, his eyes wandered again. The sight of you was just too attractive. He tried keeping himself from glancing over at you too much as he looked around your room. You noticed the way he looks at you the second he walked into the house and it made you feel insecure. Was me gaining weight really getting on his nerves that much?? Was he going to leave you? The thoughts were too much as you both ego bro the bed. You sit next to him instead of cuddling like you would normally do and that’s when he decided to speak up.

“Alright cut the crap!” He exasperates as he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap. You keep forgetting he’s strong enough to fucking carry you.

You start freaking out “Umeji! No I’m too heavy” you protest trying to get off of his lap, but his hands on your thighs are keeping you from getting off.

“If you were too heavy ya think I would’ve been able to carry you to the infirmary the other day? How weak do you think I am babe?” He says in return for your protesting.

You feel tears in your eyes as you still try to get off of his lap. “I was lighter and then, I weighed less! Just please, I don’t want to hurt you” you cry still trying to get off when Umeji’s grip lightens to hear you say this.

“Is that what this is all about? A little weight you put on? Baby~ you don’t needa worry about that.~” he begins to comfort you.

“No, you’re just saying that to make me feel better. I saw the way you looked at me when you first saw me at the door. I’m afraid you’re gonna leave me because of how fat I am” you cry more, letting out the baggage you’ve been carrying with you.

He pulls your head down to rest on his chest as you cry into him. Gently caressing your back. He seemed surprised at the fact that you didn't believe him. He could see no reason why he wouldn't be attracted to you. “You know I love every inch of you, your new body isn't any different. Yes, you may have put on some weight but I don't mind that at all. It doesn’t change what’s on the inside baby.”

He gently caresses your thighs, feeling your body soften as the rest of your weight falls on him. His hands roam your body as he praises you for every part of your body. His hands began to slowly roll down the waist of your shorts. The more he rolled the waistband, the more he revealed of your stomach. Seeing this made you feel a little self conscious but Umeji only looked and stared. “I love every part of you, every. fuckin. part.”

He takes your shirts off all the way and makes his way to your shirt. He lifts it up and over your head and throws both pieces of clothing to the side. “God you’re so fuckin sexy~ how could I not love you~” he praises you. He stops when he feels something wet on his crotch area.

He looks down at your pantries that have sweet spot on them. “Hm, didn’t think you’d get this turned on just by me just touching you~” he teases as he starts to take your panties off.

“D-doesn’t my body disgust you?” You ask as he smiles at you. “you kidding me? There is nothing about you that disgusts me right now. I see nothing but cute n’ sexy, just seeing you like this turns me on~” he says. Just as he says that you feel something poking at your womanhood.

You begin to take his bands off and his boxers until his half hard dick is out. You lean in to a heated kiss as you take his shirt off to reveal his laden upper half. You break the kiss to see the sight before you, his chest and torso were scattered with scars and his and his abs were prominent. “No wonder you were able to carry me so easily” you say out loud on accident, your hands trailing down his abs. “Yeah, I’ve carried heavier, trust” he laughs.

He continues the kiss as lifts you onto his cock and starts to bounce you. Your head flys back as you let out huffy moans. “Ahh~ mm fuck umeji~” you bounce yourself, all of your weight giving pressure to his cock.

You lean in for another kiss, feeling yourself get close. He then flips you over as you feel your head hit the pillow. He then starts plowing into you harder. Seeing your body ripple beneath thin only fueled his urges more.

“Yeah? You like that don’t you~ mm~ haah~” he lets out deep moans as he’s trying to hold back the real ones.

You could feel your climax comeing fast than you thought “hmm~ f-fuck I’m gonna cum~” yiu yell out as you come all over his cock.

Seeing the warm white rings of cum come out everytime he pumps in pulls him over the edge as he comes inside of you. Feeling the hot ropes of semen fill your hole.

“F-fuck~” his voice scratches as he pulls you into a kiss. “I love you and only you, don’t ever let your brain make you thing differently baby” he reassures you once more time as you two both fall asleep. “Thank you” you mumble out.

[whenikissedthegiyuu]

three - screaming crying throwing up

sakusa kiyoomi x reader

masterlist

I lifted my eyes from my phone to glance in Sakusa’s direction, only to find him already staring at me. His eyes widened the slightest bit and his back straightened, but he never looked away from me.

Suna cleared his throat, whether it was on purpose to attract the others’ attention or not I didn’t know, but it still made me internally wince.

“Oi,” Suna wrapped an arm around my neck, nearly pulling me into a chokehold as he pulled me to his chest. “Remember when everyone thought you and ‘tsumu were dating?”

Sakusa’s eyes snapped to the brunet as soon as he spoke, his face remaining neutral as he listened to our conversation.

“Just because I wore his spare jersey to one game because I spilled my juice on my shirt.” I rolled my eyes and smiled fondly at the memory. Atsumu laughed from across the room.

“I did think you were dating when I saw you together at my first nationals.” Hinata chuckled from where he sat on the floor beside Atsumu’s legs. “I know you grew up with the twins, but your dynamic with Atsumu was different from Osamu.”

It was. It really was.

Osamu had always been like an older brother, we fought sometimes over the smallest disagreements and were both stubborn as hell, but the moment I needed him he was there to grab my hand and comfort me, and I was the same way with him.

Atsumu on the other hand… I couldn’t even remember when I started seeing him with different eyes. One day his playful winks started making my stomach flutter and my breath stutter. I found myself gravitating more toward him, our fingers were always laced together when we walked side by side. Our mothers teased us and insisted they were waiting for the day we finally admitted to them that we were together. We would only look away pretending like we weren’t both sporting flushed cheeks.

But as suddenly as it started, it came crashing down. We started our third year and Atsumu’s eyes started drifting toward the pretty new girl with unique red hair and beautiful green eyes. They were in a different class than Osamu and I, so they eventually started talking and became good friends. They didn’t actually make it official until after we graduated, but with their flirting and how attached to the hip they were, making it official was just a formality at that point. Anyone could see it in their eyes that they were head over heels in love.

Osamu and Aran held me tightly so many nights as I cried uncontrollably. I wanted to blame her, to be mad at her for stealing him away, but it wasn’t her fault– none of it. It wasn’t Atsumu’s fault either, one can’t really choose how or who to fall in love with. He didn’t even know how I truly felt about him at the time.

And then I did what I always do best, ran away to Tokyo for university instead of staying back home with my friends, never looking back. Many times I cried on phone calls with Osamu and Suna about feeling homesick and wanting to be surrounded by my friends and family once again, but going home and seeing them would hurt even more.

Obviously it has now been years and we are all mature adults. Atsumu is once again simply my best friend whose playful winks are received by a roll of my eyes and his smirks are met by a slap on the back of his head. Kairi became a good friend throughout the years and if Atsumu was going to spend the rest of his life with anyone, I was glad it would be her.

I leaned my head against Suna’s shoulder after adjusting my position against him. I laughed at Hinata’s comment, “Nah ‘tsumu and I have always been too similar, we woulda bitten each other’s heads off at some point. Truly can’t understand how ‘samu stands us.”

I closed my eyes, feeling Suna’s chest vibrating against my arm as he chuckled. I tapped his shoulder, murmuring that I was gonna get a refill. He raised his arm just enough to let me slip out. I tried to ignore the pair of dark eyes that followed my every move as I slowly walked toward the kitchen.

It was open spaced so the guys could see me from where they were still sitting and laughing together, but it was enough to grant me at least an illusion of privacy since they were too engulfed in whatever story Bokutou was telling about college shenanigans he got himself into with Kuroo, many of which I was actually witness to.

I turned my back on the group and placed my hands on the counter as I felt my pulse start to race. Not here, not in front of them. I took deep breaths, inhaling and exhaling softly to calm myself down until my heartbeat evened out and the corners of my eyes stopped prickling with the threat of tears.

Footsteps reached my ears, as if they were intentionally heavy to alert me. I turned my head just enough to catch Sakusa’s huge form stopping just a few feet away from me. His eyes scanned my face, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded once, already feeling the tears beginning to form again at that simple question. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and turned my face away from his curious eyes.

He took another step forward and leaned his back against the counter I had my hands placed on. I could feel his eyes on me, but I just stared at the counter.

“I’m going to let you think that I believe you,” He murmured. I appreciated the low tone, not wanting the guys to listen to our conversation. “But you shouldn’t bottle everything up.”

“There ain’t nothing to bottle up.” I replied sharply, regretting my tone as soon as I caught his slight flinch. I let out a deep sigh, “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head, dismissing my apology. “Does that,” He gestured toward my face. “Have anything to do with what you were all talking about before you left?”

I grabbed the edge of the counter, controlling the urge to move just a tiny bit closer to the raven haired man as his cologne reached my nostrils. I shrugged, not really giving him any response.

“I didn’t really know you back then, but I had seen you around enough to know that you were too good for Miya anyways.”

I looked up at him then. He was already staring down at me, his mask tucked under his chin allowing me to see his lips curled down into a frown. His cheeks were sporting a pink tint, probably due to the couple of drinks he had earlier.

“Gonna get some fresh air.” I gestured toward the balcony outside. “You’re welcome to join if ya wanna take a break from the guys, but I get it if ya wanna go back to Komori. Feels like ’m keeping ya from him.”

He glanced behind me for a second before turning back to me. “I’ll go with you. It feels… uh, stuffy in here.”

being single was not exactly a choice on her part, it was more of a consequence of her demanding job as one of the best wedding planners in tokyo. her parents asked constantly if she was at least speaking with anyone romantically and when she would give them grandchildren. they pressured her to the point that she lied to them about having a boyfriend so they would leave her alone, only for them to say they want to meet him at her best friend’s wedding. time to come clean! or… find a fake boyfriend to keep her parents happy?

if you noticed that some characters’ pics changed, no you didn’t :)

for some reason my app erased all the profiles and i had to redo them

taglist (fill out this form to be tagged!)

@still-fking-single @chocoluxbaby @kittycasie @mindblownjun @yuminako @coconut-dreamz @lilith412426 @theidontknowmehn @miycutie @universal-s1ut @kellesvt @riiceandsoup @yuptha-tsme @moonlit-mizukage @matsunshine @sodapop606 @tinnierat @imnotgoodwithnamessoidk

[bonjas]

blf: la historia continua

having been one of the fans that was counting down the seconds until the new series started, i have a lot of thoughts on the show now that 4 episodes have aired. i've seen each one a few times now but my thoughts will still be a little scattered!

first of all, i LOVE the production quality, and the stylistic choice they took with the aesthetics of this series. it's sharp, artsy, quick, colorful, and very much giving Mode magazine vibes from Ugly Betty! the on screen graphics are a cute touch, Mila's are a little bit extra, but so is she so it's okay. i especially loved the comedic timing of the graphic from the bathroom scene (XL 😆).

for being 20 years later, everyone is FANTASTIC at getting right back into character. having witnessed other shows that were rebooted years and years later and seeing some people not being able to get back into the swing of things, the ability of this cast just really goes to show the caliber of actors they cast in the original. everyone effortlessly slid back into character, mannerisms, voice inflection, chemistry between characters, honestly i have no complaints. i know some people think don hermes wasn't tough enough on mila in his scenes with her, but do yall have grandparents that love to spoil you and let you get away with things they wouldnt let their kids get away with? i'm not surprised at all he's softer with her than he would have been with betty.

so after all that, my problems with the reboot...

episodes 1&2 are bad. just straight up bad, and it's unfortunate that it took 2 out of the precious little 10 we have to find their footing. episode 1 is filled with "dramatic pauses" which honestly just feel awkward, and having come from Gaitan's never ending monologues, it felt like empty air that should have been filled. Gaitan's silences were strategic and emphasized the emotions of the scenes, and actually set up to be pregnant pauses, where this series feels like they just dont know what the character would say, and not heavy with drama like they think it comes across as.

the writing, ohh the writing...

betty's diary was always used as a tool to give us background, give us insight into what betty was feeling/thinking, and give us context or extra info we didnt see on screen. with so little episodes and so little time to explain things, HUH.....WOULDA BEEN HANDY.....

good writing shows and doesn't tell, and what these early episodes do are NEITHER. something mysterious and bad is happening at ecomoda....too bad you dont get to know! camila and betty's relationship is in tatters, betty abandoned them, camily went to ???? for five??? years!! nahhhh, dont tell us anything about it, just jump right to the resentment!??

"mystery is an intellectual process, like in a 'whodunnit'. but suspense is essentially an emotional process. you can only get suspense going by giving the audience information."-alfred hitchcock

the writers made many VERY strange choices in not telling us more about:

what armando and mario did

who exactly is marcela's dude and what he gets out of helping marcela (idfk his name)

giving us background on armando and that lawyer

giving us more background on betty and mila other than just "you abandoned us!" "she's so distant now" where tf was mila and why was she out of the country for 5 years???

why are mila and marce so close??

think back to OG blf...when things were mentioned in passing like the "horrible thing that happened to betty", those werent things that were of importance for that scene/storyline/moment, thats why they were in passing, they just added to the layers of complexity of betty, but it was gratifying when we later found out what it actually was. or think about all the important events that happened because we knew what was going on! imagine if we didnt know what armando's evil plan was, and we saw betty read The Letter and we're not told what it says, and we see betty go through all her trauma and emotions and never finding anything out until she tells armando she knows. there would be no pay off because we didnt know what was happening in the first place so we're not invested! whereas in this series they are just leaving out huge gaps of information needed to feel the anxieties the people we're watching are feeling. we finally find out what armando did during his second time as president at ecomoda in episode 4, and knowing that information from the beginning would have been so much more impactful! we'd be stressed knowing armando fucked up AGAIN, is lying to betty AGAIN, put the company in financial ruin AGAIN, then we would feel the emotion of him finally coming clean to her and telling her he's planning to take full responsibility! there's not as much pay off when learning at the exact same time as betty.

with mila and betty, yeah we can fill in the blanks with what happened to them, but without hearing betty's thoughts or seeing through her eyes how their relationship fell apart, the (majority) of the audience went straight to hating mila and resenting her for their shitty relationship. if we had context around it, the audience would understand her and how everything turned out that way.

episodes 3&4 really found their footing, the humor was back, armando's characterization and development was so nice to see! callbacks to the OG show were awesome, i DIED at sandra yelling at freddy "you're disrespecting the community!!!". i'm worried that mila is manipulating betty with their happy reunion but idk! there's not enough context/foreshadowing/knowledge of mila's character so idk that one's a wild card. but if the rest of the show continues like episode 3&4 i'll be a happy camper, because 1&2 honestly had me really worried.

i wanna know what everyone else thinks! i have tons of thoughts that i already forgot because i dont write things down in the moment lol so i'm sure i'll be back to write some more down the line maybe after a couple more episodes! (new thought i just remembered–why tf is patricia in HR, let alone working? is her old man not rich enough to support her lifestyle? if that's the case, why aren't we told this to have more background on why she's back at a place she very dramatically quit from so we can invest more feelings when she's being "bullied" for having an old husband etc? it's the little things...i dont think i'm asking too much of the writers because other shows do more and more effectively with the same exact run time as this show)

[aurorawritestoescape]

A Villain’s Monologue

Pairing: serial killer!Joel Miller x f!reader

18+ DEAD DOVE!!! Heed the warnings!

Tw: dead dove, non-con, allusions to smut, mentions of SA, mentions of death, bondage, gagging, swearing

Word count: 650

A/n: if you’re sensitive to any of the warnings, do not read the fic! I don’t condone the actions of the character. It is all fictional!

——————————————————————————

Silly girl… You really thought you’d be the one to get me? Have some balls on you; I’ll give you that. Sneakin’ into my home like that... snoopin’ around. What were you tryin’ to find, Nancy Drew? Some kind of evidence—an earring, a set of teeth?? Haha... I’d never keep anythin’ like that. I’m not dumb! Been doing it for what now? Hmm, 7 years? Haven’t been caught. Not even suspected…

Oh! A cop came over once to ask about that girl. What was her name? Melissa, Melody? Fuck it, doesn’t matter. Real pretty, gave it to her good. She was beggin’ me to fuck her. Yeah, choke me, daddy! She’d been enjoying herself, for sure. Well… until…

And that cop...See, I’m Joel fuckin’ Miller! A single dad, thanks to that bitch! A workin’ man, always charmin’, nice. I showed all my concern! No, officer, I haven’t seen her around. Yes, of course I’ll join the search party. Damn it was fun being the only one to know we’d never find her in those woods.

And you, baby. Ugh! How long have you been suspecting me? Sorry, forgot you’re gagged. I bet it’s since that night. Did you hear her scream? Right? Nod if I’m right, slut?! Yeah, that bitch was loud. It’s a pity you couldn’t just forget about it. Look the other way. Began stalking me, got so fuckin’ close! I’m the one who stalks, sweetheart.

Remember that night when I caught you in the alley behind the bar. Were you followin’ me and that chick? Did you think I was gonna…? Nah, she had similar hair to Her, but… somethin’ was off. Lost interest. But you! Fuck, you were hot. Scared shitless. Did you think I was gonna kill you? Strangle, like all of them? No. You look nothing like her. You were safe. Well…woulda been safe if you hadn’t begun your sleuthin’.

A pity, really. Been such a good playthin' for daddy. That first time. Your heart was beatin’ so fast, like a little bird’s, flutterin’ under my fingers. Felt it when I was gropin’ your tits. Hell, I love ‘em. Look at you! Tied up and helpless. Want me to play with your tits? If I just slide my dick between them like this, shhh! Sit still! I’m sure I could come just fuckin' your boobs, sweetheart. My cum on your beautiful face. Here. I’ll make you eat it all up, every drop. Shhh, stop flinchin’! Don’t be shy on me all of a sudden.

You’re such a slut. Came all over my cock in that dark alley. Your neighbour, your dad’s friend, made you moan like a filthy whore. Still can see my cock slidin’ in and out of your tight cunt. Ah, the sounds! Fuck, you were so wet. You bitches are always so wet for me.

But you just had to go and ruin all of it. Have you been snoopin’ around for a long time? Since you started comin’ here, so I’d fuck you? Began noticing it. You’d ask hella weird questions. What do you have in the basement, Joel? Where do you go after work, Joel? Haha. Cute. I thought, "Well, even if you suspect somethin’. You have nothin’ on me.” Just your pretty mouth on my dick. Haha… You give a mean blowie baby. Pity really.

Today you really pissed me off. Breakin’ in like that? What if Sarah were here?! You’d scare her to death! I should’ve dealt with you the moment I found you in my bedroom. Well… maybe it’s for the best… Should daddy play with you one last time? Your last time… yeah, I’ll bend you over that table, ruin your little hole. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you come and soak my dick real good. Gagged, tied up—just how I like you, sluts. Promise you, you’ll enjoy your last minutes.

Thank you for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[ya-what--ya-erster]

Jealous, Oblivious, Text Me Tomorrow

Have some pre-relationship Javey

***

Jack Kelly's favorite activity, by far, is stealing Davey's clothes. Specifically the sweatshirts, though, because Davey always managed to keep them soft, no matter how many times they were ran through the dryer.

Jack enjoys Davey's sweatshirts, and it's easy to take them, so he does.

Davey doesn't really mean it when he objects.

This time it was different, though.

"I believe that's mine." Davey said, entering their dorm one evening after a date.

"Oh, here." Jack peeled off the sweatshirt and handed it to Davey. Davey blinked in surprise. Jack never complied like that.

"I didn't mean you had to take it off, you know?"

"Uh-huh."

Davey paused. What was up with him?

"Do you want to put it back on?"

"Nah, it's alright. Better save it for Kyle."

"Who?"

"Your date? That you just got back from, by the way."

"Oh, Kyler? No, he had his own jacket, he wouldn't need this."

Jack laughed a strained laugh.

"You don't get it, do you Dave?"

Davey looked confused, and it tore Jack apart. He buried his face in the couch, groaning in agony.

"I don't, not really." Davey said. "I mean, why would he need this? you're the only person I know that wears like six layers of sweatshirts."

Jack sighed.

He could be fine with this.

"Sorry, I just- come tell me about the date?"

Davey's eyes did not light up as he smiled and said, "Okay." Which gave Jack hope but also worried him immensely.

"So, how'd it go?"

"It was alright."

"Any fascinating details to share?"

"No, no. Nothing happened."

"Asshole didn't even send you off with a goodnight kiss?" Jack was glowing inside.

"No, uh. He said, he said he had a good time, but he couldn't see himself with me, and he wants to be friends."

"Oh, that's rude."

"A little, but I don't mind." Davey shrugged.

"Well, you deserve better if that's what he's like."

Davey made eye contact with Jack, uncertain. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he seems like a little bitch and I think you deserve better."

"You sound like a jealous boyfriend right now."

Jack could not do this. He could not, he could not, hecouldnothecouldnothecouldnothecould-

"What if I want to be?"

"What, jealous?"

"No! I would kill the jealousy dead if I could. What if I wanted to be your boyfriend!?"

"You don't, so..."

"Oh, says who?" Jack was on the verge of yelling now.

"SAYS YOU!" Davey was yelling. "If you hadn't, I wouldn't have gone out tonight if-"

"Whoa, whoa, when did I say that? I don't think I ever fuckin' said that."

"Like, Tuesday! You were on the phone with someone and-"

It all came flooding back to Jack. His father was on the phone. From prison. He had wanted to speak to Jack. Jack talked about Davey a lot, and his father finally stopped him, saying "You aren't dating him, are you?" In a deeply disapproving tone. Jack had replied as quickly as possible.

"You said, "Davey? Oh, no, I could never date Davey, he ain't my type." Davey finished off with a bad impression of Jack.

"It was my dad! I couldn't tell him the truth, he would have... he woulda broke out just to beat my ass. Davey, I'm so gone for you I can't even think."

"You're lying."

"Shut the fuck up. You don't know anything. You don't know the way it's been eating at me all night that you wasn't on a date with me! It should be me!"

"I wouldn't have even gone on the date in the first place if I hadn't heard you saying that!"

"Blame me!"

"Well, do you blame me? For feeling like I didn't even have a chance?"

Jack didn't want to yell anymore.

"Do I still have a chance with you?" He asked softly as Davey was retreating into his bedroom. Davey just shut his bedroom door.

Jack, on the verge of tears, received a message from Davey a moment later:

ask me tomorrow when I'm not pissed at you