#listen to the Linda Lindas please

[40cleverways]

"Date" Part 1

[eddiespornstache]

If we’re going full on regression arc Eddie stick him back in dispatch!! Let him and Maddie properly share screen time! Give Josh his fave verbal sparring partner back! Make Linda relevant again!

[doll-elvis]

I’m rewatching some of the movies made about Elvis and I completely forgot about the one that Linda Thompson made in 1981 called “Elvis and the Beauty Queen”

but anyways- could y’all imagine laying in bed with Elvis like this, I need it so badly 😭

[theangrypomeranian]

The Gambler by Fun is such a BobLin song

[xxblairexxss]

Who are you?

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff, I think?

Word count : 2.4k

Requested!

Part 2 Part 3

You got into an accident on your way to work with a guy who drove Ferrari Pista 488 with the number 16. Weird thing was that everyone kept calling his name as if he was a celebrity.

Just a light one. Haven’t proofread!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"The audacity of him! And then what did you say?"

Your mom thought your decision to accept an internship in Monaco out of all countries was solely because you could talk to your best friend, Linda, without having a problem with the time difference. It just happened to be on your side, though. Instead of listening to her story about her stupid ex before you went to bed, you had to get ready, so she had become your favourite podcast to listen to on your way to work.

"I said nothing." She winced, even before you screamed.

"What?! You let him disrespected you like that! Oh my God! Why?! I would have punched —“ The sound of a car horn kicked through your AirPods, taking over the voice of your friend. There wasn’t enough time for you to react when the black car came approaching so fast, cringing along the sound of a car honk that seemed to be echoing within the small town that you would have thought it would send you straight to heaven. It turned out your mind wasn’t ready for today to be your last day on earth, so you tried to run across the road and fell flat against the friction.

You were expecting to wake up surrounded by clouds, just like how the cartoons pictured the afterlife, until you felt a touch on your shoulder. "Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Are you—"

"I would have punched you in the face." You muttered, what was supposed to be something directed towards Linda’s ex boyfriend.

"Woah, okay. I’m really sorry. Here," He offered a hand and pulled you up; that was when the pain hit your nerves, making you bend over and wince. 

"Ow! What is wrong with you?!" The man was pushed away and staggered at the outburst. "It was a red light. Are you blind?"

"Okay, I’m really sorry; that was totally my fault. Let me take you to the hospital."

You retracted your arm from his hand relentlessly, limping your way to the roadside. "Leave me alone."

"You are bleeding!" He argued and tried to offer his hand for you to hold as he was you struggled to walk.

"I know! I have eyes."

"You need to treat those cuts. Just let me take you to the hospital."

You tried to hobble away from the man, but the pain had set a limit to your pace. "I don’t even know you. Go away."

"Okay, my name is—" 

"Charles! Everything good?" He looked up, surprised to hear his name being called out so sudden, and gave a thumbs up back to the waiter of the restaurant.

"You heard him. I’m Charles. You have a witness there," You looked back at the direction he pointed with his chin. “if I do something bad to you. Can you get in my car so I can take you to the hospital now? I’m kinda in a rush."

"If you are rushing, then you can just go. Don’t let me hold you up." Charles shut his eyes, tilting his head back. He knew he had misspoken because you were going to say yes before he mentioned about time. "Okay, okay! I’m not. I’m not in a rush at all. So, please, get in the car."

"Are you sure? Cause I can just —“

"No. I mean, yes. I’m very sure." He extended his hand, which you finally held while you limped your way to the car.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

This was your second tissue, which you had been pressing on your cuts. You just found out your chin was bleeding as well when you saw the reflection on his window.

"Do you need water?" He twisted open the mineral water bottle and offered it to you. You were so quiet, it made him feel restless. He would rather hear you curse him out than this eerily silent. "The hospital is 5 minutes away. Does it hurt a lot?"

"It’s not that serious. Don’t worry." You turned from looking out the window, eyes scanning through the buildings of the city, towards him, frowning in suspicion. "How did he know you? The waiter."

"He has seen me a lot. It’s a small town, after all. Are you a student?" He saw you were carrying a bag of laptop with a few files, which he had placed at the back of the car, so you were obviously not a tourist. It left him with two answers. Either you were a student or you just moved here, because if you had been living here for a while, you wouldn’t ask the question. He wasn’t saying everyone would know him, but they would at least aware of who he was.

"No, I’m doing my internship."

"How long has it been?" He queried.

"2 weeks, I think." You looked out the window as he drove into the hospital area. "You can just drop me here. I’ll be fine."

"No, it’s okay. You need help from a local, so that would be me. Can you walk?" His seatbelt retracted as he clicked on the unhook button and helped you register your name and details at the registration counter while you were asked to just sit and wait.

"Hi, Charles!"

"Oh my God! It’s Charles!"

"Are you Charles Leclerc? What are you doing here?"

It felt like you must have had a permanent wrinkles in between your brows, as you had been frowning for minutes whenever people called out his name. Sure, it was a small town, but did that mean everyone knew everyone to this point?

"Are they your friends?" He leaned in, moving his ear closer to hear your question.

"No, they are not my friends. They have seen me a lot too." The way he replied was so nonchalant, but it still didn’t make any sense to you.

"That doesn’t really make any sense." You commented, still frowning.

"It makes sense in Monaco." He looked away and bit his lips, trying to hold his chuckle.

The medical staff explained to you every cream and medicine you needed to take and when it was needed, while Charles joined in as well, listening as if it had anything to do with him.

"Can we get your phone number so we can call for a follow-up treatment on your sprained wrist?"

"Oh, my Monaco phone number? Give me a second." You just happened to find out that your phone was badly damaged in the accident right when you tried to turn it on. It probably had to do with you trying to stop your fall without realising it was in your hand, so the screen was cracked and it was just a black screen. You were forgetful and had written your new phone number in your notes so you wouldn’t get charged for accepting calls from a foreign country, but it was impossible to check your notes if your phone couldn’t even turn on.

"Use mine. If anything, just call me." Charles stepped in and wrote down his phone number, leaving you stunned. "And here’s my card. I’ll pay for everything."

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Thank you for sending me home. Oh, my phone!" He had helped you bring your stuff all the way to your apartment, though you had assured him that you could carry your own things. Just when you were about to take the last thing of yours in his possession, he moved his hand away before you could take it. "I need my phone back?"

"It doesn’t even work."

"Okay? But that doesn’t mean I’m going to throw it away." Charles brought the phone higher when you tried to snatch it, smiling like an idiot when he saw you were glaring at him.

"I’ll get it fixed and give it back to you."

"I don’t need your help anymore. Give it back! I’ll get it fixed myself." You disagreed, refusing to owe him even more, but he stepped back and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"You still need me for your follow-up treatment. You used my phone number, remember? I’ll see you in a few days once it’s fixed. Don’t forget to put the cream and your medicine." He walked away after giving you a nod out of curtesy.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"Was he hot?"

Though your phone was broken, you still wouldn’t miss a daily update from your best friends. After explaining everything, including every single detail of what happened earlier, Linda’s main focus was to ask that. Not your sprained wrist, not your cuts—nothing about you, but all about the man you had told her about.

You rolled your eyes and continued to spread the cream on the cut on your leg, still engaging in the conversation from the video call on your Macbook. "He was cute. You know, apparently everyone here knows everyone. Crazy, isn’t it? Everyone kept on calling his name ‘Charles! Charles!’ as if he were some kind of celebrity, but it was actually very common. I was shook because—"

"Wait, what did you say?" She intervened.

"I said I was shook."

"No, before that. What was his name?" Linda asked, seemingly typing something on her laptop.

"Charles? Charles Lec something?"

"Oh my God! Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" She shrieked, making you jump and scream along.

"What the heck?" You bawled as she started talking nonsense. "Slow down! What are you trying to say?"

"Is this the guy that helped you?" She brought the phone and switched to the back camera so you could see the picture on her laptop.

"Yeah? Why is his face everywhere in the Google images?" That was weird. Though you were treated like a celebrity in Monaco, why would you put out your pictures on the Internet in public, with not just one but more than what seemed to be normal for someone who just lived in Monaco?

"He’s a fucking F1 driver, you idiot! Oh my God, you are so dumb, Y/N!" Linda called out, feeling frustrated for her friend, who had to be the smartest in class but not street-smart.

"What?! But he told me that everyone knew him because they just saw him a lot." You argued back and tried to make it make sense to your friend, who seemed to be so disappointed.

"Yeah? Because he’s driving for Ferrari and he’s a Monegasque? Obviously, everyone has seen him a lot. You are so dumb."

"2 weeks in this new country, and I have already humiliated myself. I’m just going to ask him to leave my phone in front of the door so I don’t have to see him again, right?" You don’t think you could look at him in the eye anymore because you were so embarrassed that you might need 2 to 3 months to move on.

"I don’t know. To me, it sounds like he wanted to get to know you."

"Cut the crap, Linda."

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

"I can’t just leave your phone out here." Charles came and rang your doorbell a few days later. You had been yelling behind the door, trying to make him go so you wouldn’t have to see him again, but he just wouldn’t let it pass.

"Just leave it there!" You replied back the other side of the wood door.

"Are you hurt?" He replied back, knocking on your door this time.

"No!"

"Okay, then why can’t you come out?" Charles could have just done what you asked him to do, but he wanted to see how your cuts were doing, if they were still bleeding.

And he also wanted to see you because he just felt so.

"Fine, I’m leaving it here. Make sure to not leave it outside for too long. Someone might steal it away." He remarked before walking away, knowing you had been peeking from the peep hole.

"Finally!" The door pulled open after you waited for two minutes, giving him enough time to take the elevator and left.

Until you saw him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He had this smirk on his face, as if he expected you to be dumb enough and fell in his trick, which you actually did.

"Finally what?" He strode closer, arms still crossed, as he looked down on your legs to see the cut had started to heal. "Hm?" Charles carefully tilted your face up to see your chin and nodded when it wasn’t as red and bleeding as it was a few days ago. "Did I do something wrong? Why can’t you just come out?"

You grinned and walked back into your apartment, pushing the door shut with your body. "Okay, you can go home now. I’ll call the hospital to ask them to change the phone number back to mine. Thank you!”

"Wait! Why are you acting so weird?" He blocked the door and tilted his head, trying to catch your eyes because you had been looking everywhere but at him.

"Why didn’t you tell me who you are? Here I thought everyone in Monaco would call out people’s names as if they were celebrities, and you actually turned out to be one?" Your tone went higher while you pointed your hand at him, as if he were an artefact in a museum and you were a museum guide.

"I’m not exactly a celebrity. Just an athlete. How did you know?" He asked in a very light way, like this whole situation was fun for him.

"My friend showed me your picture, and I still didn’t trust her, so I went on Google myself and typed…" You pressed your lips, squeezing your eyes shut, because you knew you were just going to humiliate yourself even more if he found out about this.

"And typed in what?" Charles repeated your last sentence.

"Charles Monaco." Your hand covered your eyes instantly while he burst out laughing. He would have left with a bruised nose if only you could slam the door in his face right now, but you wouldn’t want to be charge with assaulting the famous guy in this town. "Yeah, whatever. Can you step back because I’m trying to close the door?"

"So, that’s it?" I nearly hit you with my car, sent you to the hospital, fixed your phone, and that’s it?"

You furrowed your brows. "What else do you want?"

"How about I give you a tour around the town? I’ve lived here all my life. No one knows every corner of this town except me." He rested his hand on the door when he saw you try to close it again. "Are you sure you want to miss this one chance to be with Charles Monaco?"

"You are so annoying!"

“Your next appointment is in two days. I’ll pick you up at 10 a.m." He walked away, still wearing the cocky smile that made you want to punch him so bad.

"I can go on my own. I’m not going to open the door for you next time!" You stood outside the hallway, shouting back as he went even further.

"Then I’m gonna barge into your apartment. I’m Charles Monaco; I can do whatever I want."

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl @boiohboii @formula1mount @judespoision @alwaysclassyeagle @scenesofobx @mrsmaybank13

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

thinking of best friend eddie accidentally finding your sex toys and it turns him on so much to think of you using them that he can’t help but jack off to them and you catch him and make him use them on himself 😃

Listen listen LISTEN LINDA!!!

Eddie munson x fem!reader

This took on a life of its own. I'm so sorry.

18+ minors dni

It started off casually of him just rummaging through your thing. You're both so comfortable with one another and have known each other for a long time. You two don't feel the need to ask for permission to touch or even go through eachothers belongings.

You've seen his porn hell on late nights when you're both drunk. You even watch it together during those times. Usually, some light touches are involved and a steamy makeout session, but it's never really gone past that. You've seen him naked, and he's seen you naked plenty of times.

There isn't a part of you he hasn't seen, and the same goes for him. You know it should be awkward, and best friends shouldn't do this kind of stuff, but with him, it always felt right. He always knew what to say and made you feel completely safe with him.

So it's no surprise that when you're busy in the shower, he got bored and decided to snoop around a bit. Usually, he'd read your diary or rummage through your panty drawer just because he can. He wasn't a total perv, but he just liked looking at them. Imagining what you would look like wearing them. The way they would hug your ass and hips tight.

He went over to your nightstand, looking for the little book that held all of your secrets no one else knew but him. He dug in and noticed a little something in the far back of the drawer. Tucked away under some papers, but definitely not discreetly is a little naughty pink toy.

Eddies eyes immediately bugged out of his skull he knew you weren't a virgin. But the thought of you fucking yourself only entered his mind late at night. His cock grows hard just at the thought of you desperately trying to get yourself off. Did you think about him when you touched yourself?

He hopes you thought of him as you put that little toy to your clit. His cock continued to get painfully hard in his jeans thinking of you being a whimpering mess as you moaned his name. He can't help himself at this point. His cock is straining and just begging to be stroked.

He lays back on your back against your headboard. His heart is racing, knowing you're only mere inches away from him right now. He pulls down his jeans just far enough for his cock spring forward and slap his bellybutton. Closing his eyes and spitting on his hand, moving it down to give it a few light strokes.

He bites his lower lip to stifle a moan as he brings his thumb to press down on his tip. He tries being quiet as he thinks about using your vibrator on you. Making you cum over and over again until youre begging him to fuck you.

Hearing you moan his name, turning you into a complete and utter mess at his mercy. He's gotten so lost in his fantasy that he doesn't hear you open up your bedroom door. He's steadily pumping his cock thinking about how tight your pussy must feel. How wet you must get just by barely being touched.

You stood there, not knowing what to do at first. Should you leave him be? You were at first going to just sneak out, let him finish, and pretend like nothing happened. That was until you heard him moan your name under his breath.

Clearing your throat. "Need some help?"

Eddie's eyes shot open, and he froze, not really knowing what to say to or do. His hand still fisting his cock as he stares at you from his position. You move to sit next to him as you're wearing nothing but a towel. You notice the little pink toy lying next to him on the bed.

"Please." He whispered

Those big brown eyes begging you to help him.

His breathing quickens as he looks at you in disbelief. He can't believe he's finally doing this with you, his best friend. His best friend, whom he's been in love with since the day he can remember.

"Actually, since you want to get off so badly, how about you use this instead while i watch." You said as your eyes looked over to the vibrator laying next to him. He gulps a little nervous to do this infront of you but also so fucking excited. He picks it up, turning it on its lowest setting. Feeling the hum of the vibration in his palm.

Bringing the vibrator to his tip, he hisses at the sudden sensation. His chest already heaving up and down rapidly. He knows he won't last much longer, and at this point, he doesn't care. He's been dying to cum for too long at this point. He moves it up and down his length and back to his tip again.

You watch him buck his hips up as he moves the toy up and down his cock. He's moaning and whimpering, biting down down on his other fist, trying his best to keep quiet. He doesn't want you to him hear him sound so desperate. His face is flushed. His body covered in sweat as his hair sticks to his face.

"Mmmfph! Fuck!"

"I-im gonna cum. "

He's not trying to hide his moans anymore, and he turns up the intensity of the vibrator. You're growing wetter the longer you watch him squirm in front of you from across the bed. His tip is an angry shade of red as it leakes precum.

Within just a few more minutes he's shooting cum all over his stomach. His head falls back as his mouth hangs open. Drool is spilling down his chin, and his eyes are glossed over. Eddies takes a little bit to come to his senses. He's never came that hard before for anyone ever just and hopefully only you.

"Shit." He said out of breath.

A small smirk forms on his face as he turns to look at you again. He wiggled his eyebrows and tossed the vibrator on your lap. You looked down noticing some of his cum got on it.

"It's your turn, sweetheart."

[lilirari]

🧋 everyone thinks pedri should stop pining for you because you 'don't give a f*ck' about him but they don't know what your actual relationship with the footballer is.

💌 pedri gonzález x fem! joao felix's bff! reader (social media au)

🌟 cw : pedri being a total simp, cheesy pick-up lines, translated spanish & portuguese sentences, timelines don't matter

💭 author's note : this is for my beloved pookie @leclercloml ! ilysm <3 idk if the ending parts make sense but please just bear with it 😞

instagram 🎥

yourinstagram

📍 new york city, usa

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and 13,193,299 others

yourinstagram the wind was a paid actor

view all 17,929 comments

pedri 😍😍😍

pedri eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.

pedri i ought to complain to spotify for you not being named this week's hottest single

-> spotify complaint received 😉

-> user59 oh spotify's definitely on the pedri x y/n agenda

pedri do you happen to have a band-aid ? i just scrapped my knees falling for you

-> yourinstagram deserved fall down again

-> user80 HELPDHSHDHSHDH WHY IS SHE LIKE THIS

-> user44 poor pedri but this is kind of funny 😭

jennaortega my favourite girl (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)

mikkykiemeney 🫶🫶🫶

saraguendogan gorgeous !!!

user45 the way two of the most popular barça wags are in her comments.. joão really must've introduced her to everyone in barça by now 😭

joaofelix79 minha linda melhor amiga 🥰

-> yourinstagram te amo joao 🫶

user33 babe wake up pedrizz gonzález is in the comments of y/n's post again

view more comments

yourinstagram

📍 ibiza

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, ferrantorres and 15,364,748 others

yourinstagram i love pink <3

view all 20,273 comments

pedri and i love you 🥰😘

-> yourinstagram ew

pedri ¿dónde has estado toda mi vida? 😍

pedri if beauty was a crime, you would've been sentenced for life in prison

-> user11 omg this is actually so good y/n please accept his love 😞

emmamyers 🩷🩷🩷

ferrantorres ❤️

liked by yourinstagram

joaofelix79 my prettiest girl 🫶

-> yourinstagram joao best boy !!!

user34 pedri should just stop trying to win y/n's heart man she clearly has no interest in him he's just wasting his time..

user50 i want a friendship like y/n and joão's 🥹

user96 is something going on between y/n and ferran ?? 🤔

user23 wait i'm a new barça fan and i came from x after seeing a post about pedri commenting on this girl's post.. who is she exactly ?

-> user22 she's y/n l/n, an upcoming model and also the bff of joão félix ! ^^

-> user23 ooh she's so pretty i get why pedri wants her lol

user82 huh ?? wasn't y/n in new york like literally yesterday ? how is she already in ibiza 😭

-> user25 queen's working so hard fr 😞

user75 pedrito i know you'll get the girl of your dreams someday i'm rooting for you !!!

liked by pedri

view more comments

yourinstagram

📍 lisbon, portugal

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, frenkiedejong and 20,182,838 others

tagged mikkykiemeney, saraguendogan, annalewandowska, taia_belloli, joaofelix79

yourinstagram on a trip with my girls (there's an imposter among us)

view all 25,999 comments

pedri quisiera ser joyero para poder apreciar un diamante como tú todos los días 🤍

-> yourinstagram bro please stop before i block you 🧍‍♀️

-> user77 pedri i think you should listen to her y/n can be absolutely ruthless 😭

pedri ok but why did joão get invited and i didn't ?

-> yourinstagram bc you're not one of the girls ???

-> pedri and joão is ??

-> yourinstagram yeah !!! ☺️

-> joaofelix79 i was forced to tag along against my own will, hermano 😞

mikkykiemeney had so much fun with you, love ! 🫶

annalewandowska thanks for inviting me, angel ❤️

joaofelix79 who's the best tour guide & chauffeur ??

-> yourinstagram you are !! 🥰🥰 thanks for making this trip fun and memorable, amor 🫶

-> joaofelix79 yeah yeah i accept thanks only in cash and credit

saraguendogan 💋💋

taia_belloli mi novia 🥰

user23 AHHH Y/N WITH THE BARÇA WAGS

user81 OMG THOSE POOL PICTURES OF Y/N AND SARA ARE SO PRETTY

user43 wait does this mean y/n is a barça wag ?

-> user19 i don't think so but i also won't be surprised if she's dating one of the guys

-> user01 nah, i think she just got really close with the wags because of félix

user99 MOTHER IS MOTHERING !!!

user45 MY WIVES 💅

user55 can pedri please just give up on pursuing y/n.. she's CLEARLY not interested in you bro

-> pedri 🙉

-> user39 shut up man he clearly doesn't give a fuck about what people like you are saying

user26 no bc are we sure joão and y/n are not dating ?

-> user34 yep pretty sure

-> user84 they sure are sus for two best friends who call each other 'amor' and say 'ily' to e/o all the time

-> user07 i'm sure it's just in a platonic way, man

-> user02 what ? can't two people of the opposite gender say ily and still be only friends ? this is just a healthy friendship bro

user43 y/n please notice pedri and treat him properly challenge 😞🙏

user46 AHHH i hope joão showed them all the best places in lisbon ❤️🇵🇹

view more comments

yourinstagram

📍 paris, france

🎼 my love mine all mine : mitski

liked by joaofelix79, oliviarodrigo, gigihadid and 33,127,289 others

yourinstagram bts for the photoshoot of a new magazine cover for vogue ! oh, and i got some flowers today ;) 💐

view all 42,569 comments

joaofelix79 nice flowers

joaofelix79 who's that man though 👀

-> yourinstagram idk you tell me 🫣

jennaortega already omw to pre-order 1000 copies of the magazine

-> yourinstagram please i love you 😭🫶

gigihadid perfection 🫶

-> yourinstagram love u gigi

heidiklum 🤍🖤

konichan7 🥰

adrianalima xoxo 💋

_ferminlopez 🤭

-> user77 ariana what are you doing here

user34 some of the biggest names in the modelling industry are here in the comments... y/n really has come so far i'm so proud of you girl 🥹

user27 here for y/n's famous era !!!

user97 our prettiest princess !!! we love you y/n 💌

user36 SIS IS THAT A MAN I SEE BEHIND YOU 😧

user05 don't be shy y/n show us a picture of the man in the second slide

user72 the song... the picture... the flowers... HAVE WE LOST Y/N TO A MAN ???

user55 um guys where's pedri ?

-> user78 EXACTLY WHAT I WAS THINKING

-> user40 WHERE'S OUR GOLDEN BOY AND HIS SHITTY PICK-UP LINES

user95 pedri's @ is not there in the likes...

user33 no cringey pick-up line comments from pedri and he's not in the likes either.. what's happening..

user67 i'm guessing that man must be her bf ??

user15 well ig at least we all know that the man with her is not pedri since he's nowhere to be found 🤷‍♀️

view more comments

yourinstagram

📍 barcelona, spain

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, louispartridge_ and 40,932,389 others

yourinstagram hi barcelona

view all 45,693 comments

joaofelix79 what are you doing here

-> yourinstagram came to visit you bestie 🥰🥰🥰 i missed you sooooo much

-> joaofelix79 what a liar 🙄

oliviarodrigo love u girlie

alejandrobalde 🤍

liked by yourinstagram

taia_belloli you are glowing, sis !!!

jennierubyjane pretty in white ♡

alexiaputellas 💓💘

user13 my sunshine !!! 💛☀️

user04 what's balde doing here 😧

user82 BALDE ??? HELLO ????

user75 pedri in the likes but still no comment...

user16 what is happening with y/n and the barça boys

user30 damn i kinda miss pedri's comments 😭

user27 has pedri finally stopped trying to rizz y/n up ??

-> user08 i hope so.. he doesn't deserve her she seems so annoying

-> user89 how exactly is she annoying ??

-> user08 she's always dismissing/ignoring his comments and being mean to him what a bitch

-> user89 i don't think she's actually being mean though.. and if he isn't bothered by the way she acts then why are you ?

-> user75 please stop calling y/n names and trying to make her a villain she's an absolute angel

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and others

user66 the way we see different barça players comment on her post everyday 🧍‍♀️ guess today's man of the day is balde

user05 THAT DRESS IS GORG SIS

view more comments

yourinstagram 10 minutes ago | pedri 2 minutes ago

seen by joaofelix79, pablogavi, frenkiedejong and 17,929,199 others

y/n's dms 🏷️

☆ joaofelix79 replied to your story !

husband ??? 😰😱

yourinstagram

yuh

☆ user56 replied to your story !

HUSBAND ???? QUEEN WHO ???

☆ user69 replied to your story !

please tell me that's just a beyonce reference and you don't actually have a husband.. 🥹

twitter 🫖

imessage 💬

mi esposa 💌

i think it's time

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

wait really ? are you sure about this ?

mi esposa 💌

yeah 100% sure i'm ready

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

alright then

mi esposa 💌

it's been a good run, hasn't it ?

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

it sure has...

3 years ain't that bad

mi esposa 💌

frfr !!

we're a bit too good at this 🤭

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

i second that

mi esposa 💌

i'll drop a head's up now

see you on the other side 🫡

mi esposo ❤️‍🩹

let's go give the world a shock, mi amor 🫶

twitter 🫖

instagram 🎥

yourinstagram

📍 tenerife, canary islands

liked by pedri, joaofelix79, jennaortega and 50,199,143 others

tagged pedri

yourinstagram i'm guessing this wasn't the type of news y'all were expecting, huh ? jokes on all of you bc pedrito and i have actually been together for three years now. we were just a bit too good at hiding our relationship 🤭 anyways happy three years together, mi amor, and also happy 6 months of our marriage ! te amare por siempre, my golden boy 🤍

view all 60,000 comments

pedri my gorgeous girl

pedri te amo, mi vida 🫶

liked by yourinstagram

pedri te voy a denunciar a la policía por robarme el corazón

-> yourinstagram oh no ! i can't be behind bars now — i've got my whole life ahead of me ! 😰

joaofelix79 ahh finally !!! keeping your relationship a secret was probably the hardest thing i ever had to do in my entire life

-> yourinstagram you're the absolute best joão thank you 🫶

-> joaofelix79 as i've said before, i accept thanks in only cash and credit

-> yourinstagram sending you some money rn

-> joaofelix79 😁😁😁

jennaortega my favourite couple !!!

-> yourinstagram my maid of honour 🥹🫶

pablogavi ❤️

gigihadid still in awe over this look of yours you really are the prettiest bride

mikkykiemeney 😍😍😍

annalewandowska my babies 🥹🥹

fcbarcelona the best couple 🫶

ferrantorres ❤‍🔥

user81 .... girl what

user90 WHAT IN THE ACTUAL FUVK

user12 three years... THREE YEARS ?????

user04 not only have you been together for three years but URE FRICKING MARRIED ????

user24 HOW TF DID NO ONE KNOW ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP

user46 HUHHHHHHHHHHH 😧😧😧😧😧😧

user57 we are all fvcking clowns

user68 another day of blaugrana being an entire circus

user38 THREE YEARS ???? but félix joined barça only this year.. huh how did you guys meet i'm confused

-> yourinstagram pedri and i have actually known each other for a long time now 😭 most of you may just know me as joão's bff but only some people know that i'm friends with pedri's brother hehe so we got to know each other through fernando :)

user72 HOW DID YOU GUYS HID YOUR RELATIONSHIP FROM US FOR THREE HECKING YEARS ? HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE ?????

user01 HOW DID THE MEDIA AND PAPARAZZI NOT CATCH YOU WHAT

user07 goodness idek how to react to this

user29 wait so you were just pretending to hate pedri in your previous posts... but why ?

-> yourinstagram oh it was just a bet we made when joão joined barça this year. most of you knew me only when joão joined barça and pedri and i had already been working on our marriage plans by then. we've hid the facts about our relationship for three years now but marriage is a huge thing and there was no way we could hide our wedding for years so we just wanted to see how long it would take for the paparazzi to catch up on the news lol. to help hide our marriage a little longer, we just pulled an unrequited love act on my instagram posts and i pretended to ignore him irl too for fun 🤭

-> user57 this is absolutely insane... you guys are geniuses

-> user80 OKAY BUT WHO WON THE BET THOUGH ???

-> yourinstagram technically no one since we both thought the news wouldn't get out until next year but we're spending our honeymoon in barcelona rn and we just got a bit too bold in public and sadly got caught 😞

yourinstagram ok correction you guys we never really hid our rs tbh i guess you guys just never knew me or like paid much attention to things so it just got really easy to date him without having to deal with the media 🤷‍♀️

-> user03 now that i think about it... i feel like you've appeared in a few of the gonzález family photos, y/n 🤔

-> yourinstagram yes i have ! but if i remember correctly, most people just thought i was fernando's gf or sumn 😭

-> user99 omg we were so fucking blind 🧍‍♀️

-> user67 well we just never expected pedri to have enough rizz to pull a beauty queen like you ig

-> pedri HEY

-> yourinstagram LMAO FOULLLLLL

user44 i love how y/n just spilled the whole tea to us 🥹 she's so iconic

user12 GOD I LOVE Y/N SO MUCH FOR THIS LITTLE STORYTIME UNDER THE COMMENTS

user06 THEY'RE SO FUCKING ADORABLE I LOVE YNPEDRI

user55 SUCH A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING DRESS 🤍

user21 what is with joão and money though LMAO

-> joaofelix79 if barça doesn't have enough money to buy me, then i'll provide them the money instead

-> user02 I'M IN TEARS THIS IS SO ICONIC OF YOU JOÃO

-> user74 LMFAO WHAT A LEGEND

user23 PEDRI IN THAT FOURTH SLIDE DAYUMMMM

user16 i hate you both so much for lying to us for so long but also congratulations on getting married !!! 🥹

view more comments

pedri

liked by yourinstagram, pablogavi, _rl9 and 69,239,839 others

tagged yourinstagram

pedri feliz aniversario, mi vida 🤍

comments on this post have been limited

twitter 🫖

♡ translations of pedri's pick-up lines !

“eres la chica más hermosa que he visto en mi vida.”

: you are the most beautiful girl i have ever seen in my life.

“¿dónde has estado toda mi vida?”

: where have you been all my life ?

“quisiera ser joyero para poder apreciar un diamante como tú todos los días.”

: i would like to be a jeweler so i can appreciate a diamond like you every day.

“te voy a denunciar a la policía por robarme el corazón.”

: i will report you to the police for stealing my heart.

© LILIRARI, 2023 ★

[dinanikto]

Spoilers: Episode 4 of the Walten Files

I think people misunderstood Felix as a character?

I've seen so many fans WISHING that Felix would actually die?? Like, "if I was Jack, I would beat the shit out of Felix" or "Felix, do a flip".

I thought it was shown pretty well that he is not in the right state of mind.

Before reading this, please, gather all of your compassion and sympathy, and listen to what I'm about to say with a clear mind.

Let's speak chronologically:

1) Felix and Jack meet in college and decide to create animatronic-based restaurant. They are teens/young adults in the year 1958-1964 (not truly canon, but close to). According to Martin, they're very close, they love and trust each other.

2) Jack meets Rosemary, they start dating. She creates designs for Bon and other characters.

Felix is, presumably, left alone to himself, as he doesn't have anyone else.

3) They graduate and contact CyberFun Tech.

Felix meets and marries Linda, while Jack and Rosemary have their first kid.

4) october 30th, 1964.

Linda notes Felix's heavy drinking and his poor self image. She's stressed and scared.

Felix is close with the Walten family. Jack and Rose get two more kids, and they all call him uncle!

And yet, he doesn't feel welcome. He uses alcohol as a coping mechanism. "He drinks for the sole purpose of drinking!"

Please note, the year is 1964!! Even nowadays not many people can get help and cure their addictions. Not many people believe that they can, or that they deserve it.

5) december 25th, 1970.

Krankens and Waltens are so close they spend Christmas together. And yet, Felix is burdened with something.

Jack and Rose are lovey dovey, Felix and Linda are not. Waltens have three kids that love their parents deeply, Krankens do not. Jack is happy, and Felix is not.

He's still using alcohol to calm himself down.

He can't control himself anymore.

Linda tries to talk to him, but Felix doesn't respond. Or rather, it's how Linda frames it.

"He feels bad about it, but doesn't try to change."

Honestly? Sounds like he tries to communicate, but his depression isn't letting him do it well. Again, it's 1970, and I don't think anyone has ever truly tried to help him.

He's a man. Why can't he man up? Jack is doing fine, why can't you, Felix?

Or why won't you just tell everyone how you feel? It's not like men have been bottling their emotions for decades now, right?

6) april 1974.

The Bon's Burgers is about to be open in a few weeks.

Felix and Linda have a fight (verbal). He hurts her feelings.

Jack asks Felix to pick up kids from a school party. Felix says no at first, but Jack won't listen.

Eventually, Felix says yes.

7) morning of may 2nd, 1974.

Linda leaves Felix. Only thing left after her is a note.

No talking, no nothing. His wife of 10+ years left him.

Have you ever gone through a breakup? A breakup with your spouse? Were you in an intoxicated state of mind when your wife left you? Were you depressed when seemingly everyone have left you?

Wait, right, he has Waltens. So of course he's gonna get those kids home, that's the only thing left for him! Everyone are asking him of it.

7) evening of may 2nd, 1974.

The car crash happens.

8) may 3rd, 1974.

He's awfully drunk. He's depressed. He got almost killed. He tried to kill himself twice. He has no one to talk about this with.

He has killed two children. Children that he loved.

Jack is going to hate him. And he does! Jack DOES want to kill him, Felix knows it even before speaking to him.

Note that he's not afraid of Rosemary.

9) may 3-6th, 1974.

He hides. He doesn't sleep for three days, and gets hallucinations.

He's scared. But the fact he actually faced Waltens is surprising. He's trying to fix things as best as he can.

10) may 6th, 1974

He lies. What else can he do?

Jack disappears. Susan disappears. Rosemary and Charles disappear. Brian and Ashley disappear.

And THIS is noway near his fault.

Bon's Burgers close. He has no money, several murder cases. Everybody is dead.

_____________________________________________

And after all of this, people don't find Felix even a little bit likeable? But support an agressive, irrational Jack, who was blind to his brother's struggling and pain? Who was the only person to not notice Felix's drinking problem?!? I'm confused.

I feel like Felix almost constantly. The mentally ill guy with no support system, that has no one to talk to. Never the one to get any help, even when having a "family".

And it's not like he thinks that he deserves love and attention. He never goes searching for Linda. He tries to end his life multiple times. He's masking as a nice corporate guy, while suffering internally.

He suffers more than anybody else in the series. And why? What did he do? Did anyone teach him how to deal with these situations?

In conclusion: don't hate people. Never ever wish the worst for them, especially publicly.

And if you associate yourself with Kranken? Try to get help. Again, and again, and again. We live in a scary, but wonderful world. Your life is worth living, you deserve to be happy. Don't give up.

[xomakara]

[PREVIEW] No Clue

Full Version is released! → Here!!

SUMMARY |  You're in love with Jaehyun, your best friend, but he has no clue. You have suffered in silence as you have watched him date countless of girls left and right. Graduation is coming up, and you are running out of time to tell him how you feel. Will he finally see that it should have been you all along, or will he break your heart forever? PAIRINGS | Jaehyun x Reader GENRE |  college!student!Jaehyun, college!student!Reader, college au, friends to lovers trope, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), fingering, dirty talk, oral sex, (other things that might be added) RATING |  Mature LENGTH |  tbd (halfway there ya'll) TAGLIST | let me know if you'd like to be tagged for when I release this! AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Mama Linda is back and ready to feed you with neo food~ This is a small preview of the beginning of the story since I'm about half-way finished with it. 'Walk' comeback has literally fueled my loins and I've become feral for the neo men. Things might change from the preview and the final release, so please be aware of that! Much love 💚

You sat in the coffee shop, tables away from your best friend as you watched him flirt with that pretty girl he met at the latest NCT frat party. It was another girl this week, but you still hoped. You hoped he would turn and look at you. You hoped that he would see that it should be you.

It was never you.

He laughed at something she said and you sipped your tea. The hot liquid scalded your throat but you barely registered the pain, your eyes on Jaehyun, your heart shattering every single time he smiled at her. He would never smile at you like that. He would never look at you with those soft brown eyes.

And yet you continued to sit in the corner, watching, hoping, praying for something you could never have.

You got up and walked past them, ignoring Jaehyun's questioning glance. Your head was down as you pushed open the door and stepped out into the hot summer air.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet. The heels you wore were a nuisance today, and you kicked them off halfway through the walk, your feet now padding barefoot across the concrete. You could see a group of guys approaching and you sighed, picking up your pace. You didn’t want to have to talk to anyone.

The group stopped and turned towards you, calling out. You could hear their footsteps following and you bit back a curse.

“Y/N, seriously, are you listening to us?” One of the guys, Mark, said.

You slowed your pace and turned, plastering a smile on your face.

Mark stood before you, Taeyong, Johnny and Haechan close behind. You knew them from high school. You had been friends, and you had always found them attractive. But nothing, nothing, compared to how you felt about Jaehyun.

Your eyes drifted to the ground.

“Who made our girl cry?” Taeyong asked, wrapping his arms around you. He could see through your fake smile.

You couldn't help but relax into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He rubbed your back gently.

The others came forward and touched you gently, Mark taking one of your hands, Johnny placing a hand on your head, and Haechan standing beside you and taking your other hand.

You didn’t want to cry anymore.

They held you for a while, silent. They had known for years about how you felt about Jaehyun. You couldn’t count the number of times you had called Taeyong, crying and begging him to come and hold you, the number of times Johnny had taken you for coffee or to the cinema, anything to get you out of your apartment and away from the sight of Jaehyun with someone else. Mark had sat up with you late at night, watching bad romcoms and eating popcorn. Haechan had brought you a new book every single day since the start of university, and you knew that the reason you had done so well was because of him.

They helped you through your worst times. And here they were again.

You finally stepped back, looking up at them and wiping the last of the tears away.

“Another girl this time?” Haechan asked softly.

“The one Yuta introduced him to at the last frat party.” You sighed, running your hand through your hair. "I've got all dolled up today thinking that something was different, that maybe today would be the day when he suddenly asked to meet me at the coffee shop alone. But I guess it was to introduce me to whatever her name was."

The boys stayed silent.

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Johnny asked quietly.

You shook your head.

"He doesn't need to know. I'm okay." You sighed. "Besides, no matter how much I wear pretty clothes or put on makeup, or wear these stupid heels like always...he never looks my way. He never sees me. I must be ugly or something, I don't know."

"You are beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have you." Haechan whispered.

"You guys are the best." You smiled and kissed their cheeks.

"Why don't we have a movie night? We can get pizza and snacks and just chill." Johnny smiled, linking his arm with yours.

"Drinks included?" You asked, your heart a little lighter than it had been a few moments ago.

"Of course." Mark laughed.

"And popcorn, lots of it." Taeyong grinned.

You walked with them back to your apartment, smiling and laughing at their jokes, letting yourself relax and forget about Jaehyun, at least for a little while.

Haechan opened your front door, grinning.

"Let's get wasted!" He whooped, making a beeline to the cabinet that you had stored all your drinks.

"Get some glasses." Mark laughed, following the younger boy.

You and Johnny made your way into the living room and dropped down onto the couch. Taeyong came back from the kitchen with plates and napkins, placing them on the table and sitting beside you.

Haechan and Mark carried all the drinks and snacks to the table and sat on the floor, sorting out the snacks.

You smiled, grateful for the four men in front of you. You would have gone mad without them.

The night was going well, you were sat between Taeyong and Johnny on the couch, leaning on Johnny and giggling as the film continued. Haechan was curled up on the other side of the couch, half asleep. Mark had disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a huge bowl of popcorn and settling on the floor next to Haechan.

Your phone buzzed and you frowned, looking down and seeing Jaehyun's name. You groaned and threw the phone to the other side of the couch, turning your attention back to the film.

"Don't you want to see what he wants?" Taeyong asked softly.

"Nope." You popped the 'p' and took another sip of your drink. "He can go fuck himself."

"He's texted you like a hundred times already." Haechan frowned, holding the phone out to you.

"So?"

"Y/N, just look. It could be important."

You groaned and snatched the phone from him, opening the messages and rolling your eyes.

Jae: Are you mad at me?

Jae: Seriously, you can't ignore me forever. Please reply. What the fuck did I do wrong? You are my best friend, talk to me.

Jae: This is not fucking funny. What is wrong with you?

"What's wrong with me?" You looked away from your phone, letting out a frustrated sigh as you passed your phone to Mark.

"You want me to reply?" Mark asked.

"Nope. Just turn off my phone. I don't care how many messages he leaves me." You got up, downing your drink. "I'm going to get more alcohol."

"You are going to regret this in the morning." Johnny called.

"At this point, I don't fucking care. I'm done with this. He wants to date the whole world then that's up to him. Not my fault."

You stumbled into the kitchen and opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of vodka and poured a good amount into your cup, and making your way back to the guys. "I'll regret it later, but right now, I'm getting absolutely, fucking trashed."

The movie finished, and you had drunk more than enough alcohol to kill a horse.

You were lying on the couch, the others sitting around you.

"I don't want to be in love anymore. Why can't I stop?" You slurred, your eyes closed as you lay across the couch, your head on Johnny's lap and your feet in Haechan's.

"There will be someone else. Someone better." Johnny stroked your hair, smiling softly.

"I hope so. I really fucking do." You sighed.

You were drunk, you were sad, and you had cried a lot. But you were also tired.

And within minutes, you were asleep.

Jaehyun was worried. He had texted you, and called you. His texts went unanswered, his calls went straight to voicemail, and everyone else that was with you weren't answering his texts.

"What the fuck is going on with everyone tonight?" He muttered, throwing his phone onto his bed and falling onto the pillows.

He sighed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering why you wouldn't talk to him. He had seen you walk out of the cafe, and had wondered why you hadn't waited for him, why you had left so quickly.

He had wanted to ask, but had been distracted by the pretty girl that was sitting in front of him.

He couldn't deny that she was gorgeous and that he liked the way her dress clung to her figure.

But she wasn't you.

Jaehyun sighed and looked at his phone. The girl, Minah, had asked him out, and he had said yes.

She was the most recent in a long line of girls, all of whom had asked him out. He could barely remember their names. They were just something to occupy his time, something to fill the void in his chest when his mind drifted back to you. You, his beautiful best friend, who probably doesn't think of him as anything but a friend.

Jaehyun could imagine holding you, loving you, kissing you until your lips are red and swollen, only pulling away to pepper your skin in small, soft kisses that make you giggle. He wanted to be able to run his fingers through your hair, kiss the top of your head as he pulls you against him. He could see you wrapped up in his arms as the sun comes up, your soft breaths against his skin, your fingertips gently dancing across his body.

He wanted to be with you, wanted you in his life, not these random, forgettable girls. But he didn't know how to tell you, and so he resigned himself to this half-life.

He grabbed his phone and called you again, but still it rang and rang until finally the voicemail picked up. He didn’t bother leaving another message, knowing that you were deliberately not answering.

He knew that he should probably let you be, but the worry was building inside him. He was concerned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

It was almost 2 am and you still hadn't replied to him.

Jaehyun stood up, his mind made up. He grabbed his keys, jacket, phone, wallet, and made his way out of his apartment to head to yours.

He walked slowly, thinking about you, wondering what had happened today. Had he done something wrong? Why had you left the coffee shop without him?

He reached your apartment, surprised that the lights were still on.

He knocked loudly, waiting impatiently for someone to answer the door.

After a moment, the door opened, and Mark stood in the doorway. "Hey, can't this wait? She's asleep."

"Is she okay?" Jaehyun tried to push past the shorter man, but Mark stopped him.

"Look, man, just go home. She doesn't want to talk to you." Mark sighed.

Jaehyun gave him a look. "Why the fuck not? I'm her best friend."

"Well, you have a fucking shitty way of showing it. Do you even know what you have put her through?" Johnny walked up behind Mark and glared at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun paused. "What are you talking about?"

"You are her best friend and you are so blind that you can't see what is right in front of your eyes." Johnny continued.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows.

"For fucks sake." Johnny sighed. "Go home, Jae. Leave her alone for now."

"Tell her I'll call her tomorrow. I'll be back to check on her." Jaehyun turned and walked away, his head full of confusion.

Mark and Johnny shared a look.

"This is getting out of hand." Mark muttered.

"It'll work out. Let's get back inside. She needs us."

They closed the door and walked back into the living room, the others glancing at them.

"Is he gone?" Haechan asked.

"Yeah, for now. But I don't know how much longer we can keep this up. If he doesn't realize how she feels soon, it will destroy her." Mark sighed.

Taeyong moved from his seat and sat on the floor next to Haechan. "How many girls has he been with now?" He asked.

"I've lost count. There was the girl at the party last week, the one with the green dress. He dated her for two days before he realized that she wasn't going to give him anything other than her time. Then there was that blonde girl, she was nice, lasted a couple of weeks." Mark listed the girls that Jaehyun had brought around and introduced to you.

"How many of those girls did he fuck?" Haechan asked.

"Too many." Mark sighed.

"And she watches them all. She sits and listens to them talk about their dates and the things they've done, and she never says anything. She pretends to be happy for him, pretends that she is okay." Johnny looked over at your sleeping form.

"This needs to end." Haechan frowned. "Can't we just lock them in a room or something? Let them fuck it out or something? Surely it has to happen at some point."

"I'm with him." Taeyong looked at the rest of them.

"That...I guess that would work." Johnny nodded slowly.

"I could knock her out." Mark stood. "Give her something to drink, make it sweet or something... I could pick her up, put her somewhere..."

"No, Mark. No." Taeyong stopped him. "I'm pretty sure drugging her is illegal, even if you are doing it for a good cause. We don't need you getting arrested as well."

"Fine, fine." Mark threw his hands up and flopped down beside Haechan.

"Doesn't have to be drug-free." Haechan suggested.

"Again, Hae, not helping. We need Y/N and Jaehyun conscious if this is to go ahead." Johnny explained patiently.

"Yo, isn't the summer frat party coming up? We could lock them up in the laundry room since the door lock is broken?" Mark asked. “Like that shit won’t unlock from the inside.”

"Who knows what they could do then...no, wait. What if we kept them under a watch, like literally, all the time, until the frat party. At which point, we shove him in with her and she will have nowhere to escape to." Johnny sat up straight, eyes wide, an excited smile on his face.

"Okay. So far we have a plan to trap them at a frat party, and make sure they won't have any outside influences." Taeyong leaned back.

"Any other suggestions before we call this a success?" Johnny asked.

"Don't get caught." Haechan replied, grinning.

"Don't. Get. Caught." The others nodded.

[mclennonlgbt]

(JUST LIKE) STARTING OVER WAS DEFINITELY FOR PAUL – a compilation

A meaningful wordplay As you know, John attached great importance to the lyrics of his songs. He liked to smuggle in word games and hidden meanings. Let's look at a fragment of the lyrics of "(Just Like) Starting Over". It's time to spread our wings and fly Wings was Paul's band in the 1970s.

Don't let another day go by

"Another Day" is a song by Paul and Linda that was released as the A-side of a non-album single in February 1971. It was Paul's debut single, following the Beatles break-up in 1970. (Sidenote: giving credits to both himself and Linda, Paul broke up the Lennon-McCartney partnership, angering Allen Klein).

my love

"My Love" is a 1973 song by Wings. The single was viewed as Wings' first significant success.

2. The demos

In the first demo, John uses the word "walrus":

Everyday we used to make it love so why can’t we be making love – it’s easy. The time has come, the walrus said, for you and me to stay in bed again, it’ll be just like starting over

The walrus is a famous motif from Beatles songs. In the song "I Am The Walrus" (1967) John declares that he is the titular walrus, a year later in "Glass Onion" he stated: „And here’s another clue to you all – the walrus was Paul”. In "God" (1970) John sings: "I was the walrus." In an interview from 1969 or 1970, George jokes: „And if you are listening, I am the walrus too”. Regardless of which Beatles was the walrus, John is for sure giving us an interesting clue here.

As for „in bed”:

Here's another fascinating demo... This requires no comment. It's just that John suddenly referred to "Why Don't We Do it In the Road", a song by Paul from the Beatles era.

EDIT:

The whole fragment is:

Just take your clothes off honey, and stick your nose in money.. why don’t we… do it in the road?! (Laughs) A little hotel where we used to screw A little place down in Montauk Just you, me, the cook and the servants too

As @i-am-the-oyster pointed out (the screen is theirs) - it's a 17 minute drive from Paul's house in the Hamptons to Montauk Motel.

3. John explaining who the song is for

„I’m not aiming, I am not aiming at 16 year olds. If they can dig it, please dig it. But when I was singing and writing this and working with her, I was visualizing all the people of my age group from the 60s. Being in their 30s and 40s now, just like me, and having wives and children and having gone through everything together, I am singing to them! I hope the young kids like it as well, but I’m really talking to the people that grew up with me and saying: „Here I am now, how are you? How’s your relationship going? Did you get through it all? Wasn’t the 70s a drag? You know, here we are, let’s try and make the 80s good, you know, because it’s still up to us to make what we can of it. It’s not out of our control”. I still believe in love, peace. I still believe in positive thinking when I can do it. I’m not always positive but when I am, I try and project it”.

Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rqxPx2Tvf6A

Let’s point out that the song which convinced John to come out of retirement was „Coming up” by Paul. You want a love to last forever One that will never fade away I want to help you with your problem Stick around, I say

(…)

You want some peace and understanding So everybody can be free I know that we can get together We can make it, stick with me

BONUS (this is not evidence or premise, but maybe Paul understood that the song was addressed to him): Paul's reaction to the song after John's death.

„…Time passed. Paul locked the door of his home studio and played (Just Like) Starting Over, the first single from Double Fantasy. Top volume. For days”.

- Christopher Sandford, „McCartney”

EDIT:

(it's also @i-am-the-oyster's reveal): One Sweet Dream podcast did an interview where May Pang agreed with the host (JL)SO was for Paul and emphasised that it wasn't about Yoko -- it's a patrons-only episode so I can't link it, but it's April 2023, around the 1h29 mark).

I would take it with a grain of salt, though, because May (for valid reasons) dislikes Yoko.

As @paul-mccartney-official noticed, the stripped down mix of this song begins with:

When they were teenagers, John and Paul identified with their musical idols: John was Buddy Holly and Paul was Little Richard or Elvis.

This is Lennon talking about his and McCartney's meeting at Village Woolton fete:

It is possible that John refers to his youthful years in this dedication. However, there is also an option that he mentioned his former idols, because "(Just like) starting over" musically refers to the 1950s. It depends on you what you believe in.

[aphrogeneias]

it's been seven hours and fifteen days —

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader (soulmate!au)

summary: it's new years eve, and as the year comes to an end, so do a lot of other things.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fluff and a lot of angst. brief sexual assault (by an unnamed patron). a little bit of violence. mention of a gun (as a joke, very quickly). a cliffhanger. stobin (platonic with a capital p) appreciation.

author's note: it's been a long time, but the show must go on. i hope you enjoy it! <3 also, please don't hate after you're done with this, 'kay? pinky promise.

series masterlist

Steve and Robin surprised you with a visit right before New Year’s Eve of 1991.

Surprised isn't the word, in fact. They had both been dropping hints about coming over to see you whenever you'd talk on the phone for a few weeks then, especially since Eddie came back to your life. You were trying to not worry them, to not bring up the subject too often, but they knew you better than you knew yourself.

In the same way Eddie once knew you too.

On the morning of the 30th, you were woken up by several insisting knocks on your apartment door. Those were unexpected in themselves, since no one used to visit you. Especially at that time of day, after a long Sunday night shift. Your roommate was out of town for the holidays, and even then, it wasn’t like there were people coming in and out of your home on Monday mornings.

Mornings were for sleeping in and recovering from the buzzing in your ears left by way too loud live music — Linda would always say you'd all end up deaf, but you couldn't think of a better way of eventually losing your hearing — and standing on your feet since the afternoon. However, that particular Monday morning was different than any other.

Stumbling out of bed, you inwardly cursed whoever was bothering you this early, when you'd just gotten to bed. From the other side of the door, you could hear two people arguing. “Stop knocking! You've already woken up the whole building!”, one of them said, in a frazzled whisper-shout. The other responded, in an almost bored tone, “And she might still be asleep.”

You'd never yanked the lock open that fast in your life.

Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, with bags under their eyes and bags on the floor by their feet, stood on your doorstep. Their matching smiles staring right back at you.

“What are you doing here?” You gasped, launching yourself forward, involving both of them with your arms around their shoulders in an awkward group hug.

“We were long overdue for a road trip to see you.” Steve sounded tired as he squeezed you back.

“The old Beemer almost didn't make it.” Robin commented as you pulled away.

“I’d kill both of you for surprising me like this on my day off but I'm too happy to care right now.” You were already pulling their bags inside and closing the door, leading them in.

“Can we take a nap first? I'd rather be killed while I'm well rested.”

The cold, early morning sun shining through the window curtains made that sight even more surreal. Robin already lying on your couch, and Steve sitting himself on the floor in front of it, resting his head on the seat. You smiled through the sleepy fog that still lingered behind your eyes.

“That can be arranged.”

They slept through the morning and a little into the afternoon, which gave you time to sleep too.

After you were all awake and they'd settled their luggage in your room, showered and changed, it was time for an improvised breakfast for lunch with whatever you had in your fringe. Frozen waffles, scrambled eggs and plenty of coffee.

You sat around the small, square table in your kitchen while you listened to them talk about everything, everyone, you'd left behind. About running into your mom at Bradley’s Big Buy, about the kids going to college, — and how Robin hopes Dustin never follows any of Steve's advice, much to his chagrin — about Robin’s life in the city and Steve’s struggle to let go of the past.

Some things would never change, even when they did most drastically.

You didn't speak about yourself, content in just hearing them talk, basking in their warm presence. Until Robin asked, “What about Eddie, huh?”

“Yeah, what about Eddie?” Steve repeated, trying to act casually while he filled his mug with more coffee. It was never his strong suit.

You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “What about Eddie?”

“Can't we ask how he's doing? How are the two of you doing?” Robin mirrored your position, grinning at you.

“There's no two of us, nothing’s changed in that regard, before you ask.” You sighed, “And Eddie… Eddie is doing great. The band is doing great, they're getting good traction with the public, the bar has been more and more crowded each weekend. It's just a matter of time until they get a better offer as a resident band, or from a label. I'm happy for him, for them.” You quickly corrected yourself.

“What about you? Are you happy?”

You couldn't help but smile at Steve's question. “It's bittersweet, I think. I grew used to having him around again, some days it's like I haven't even left, but I know it's got an expiration date hanging over us all over again. It's good to have him while I can, you know? I try not to think too much about it.”

“No use in telling him, then?” Robin finally breached the subject, you knew that was where they were trying to get all along.

You shake your head. “No, there never was, really. It's what I told you guys five years ago and it hasn't changed. Eddie doesn't want a soulmate, even if it's…”

“Not even if it's you? I really doubt that.” Steve interjected.

“Especially if it's me. Especially now, after everything I did. It's not fair to him.”

They exchanged a look then, one of those looks Robin and Steve shared that no one but then could really tell what it meant. It was enviable, really, to be that understood by someone. You once knew what that was like.

Before either of them could say anything, something shifted at the table. Subtle, like a soft gust of air, but you knew the feeling. You knew it well, and when you looked down between the empty plate of waffles and your barely touched cup of coffee, sat something that wasn't there a moment ago.

A woven leather bracelet, with a simple silver clasp. It was slightly worn, clearly well loved. There was no question where it came from.

You picked it up, letting it hang from your pointer finger.

“Is that… his?” Steve broke the silence.

A tired sigh left your lips from deep within your chest. “Who else could it be from?”

One more for the box.

As seemed like a pattern that day, you got woken up again, this time by the phone ringing.

Robin was sleeping in your roommate’s bedroom — because what she doesn't won't hurt her — and Steve was dead asleep, snoring on your couch. He didn't budge as you picked up the bright blue receiver from where it hung from the wall.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you up?”

Eddie's tone did not indicate he was even a bit remorseful — you could practically see the dimples forming around his lips stretched in a charming smirk, his body leaning against the telephone booth.

“You didn't call me to ask that.”

Little did he know you had a matching smile on your own lips.

“You’re right. Jus’ wanna hear your adorable, middle of the night voice.”

“Asshole.” You scoffed, and if your face felt a little hot, you tried to ignore it. “What's up?”

“You wanna go help me put up some posters over on the Strip? Linda said we need all the marketing we can get for New Year’s, and I could use some help.”

“And your dear bandmates can't help because…?”

“Didn't ask them. I'm asking you.”

“Why? Missed my pretty face that much? You saw me yesterday, man.”

“Jesus…” He sighed, overdramatic and loud, as you'd expect. “Just get your cute butt over here, I'm waiting at the next corner.”

You giggled, again, not being able to help yourself. “I knew it.”

Most days, you liked to tell yourself you shouldn't get too attached. Eddie would soon be leaving again, on a tour bus to brave the country — with how much people they'd been attracting to The Deuce, it was only a matter of time until one of them was a producer scouting for their label’s next big hit.

You told yourself that, if he didn't leave, then you would. You'd done it once, there was no harm in doing it again.

You realized you liked lying to yourself more than you were previously aware of.

Lying to yourself was what you did when you were crammed into the passenger seat of Jeff’s old car, less conspicuous than the beat-up behemoth Eddie calls a van, scouring the city for the best spot to tack some concert posters. The late night radio tune the background of your laughter, inside jokes returning like second nature, the red string tightening around your pinky finger.

It was what you did when he held your hand to make you walk the streets faster, trying to cover more ground through the night, the same way that he used to when you played together. When he asked you to sit on his shoulders to attach posters to places higher than either of you could reach, and his hands rested warm on your thighs. When you ended the night at the same diner you did every morning, sleepy eyes meeting over hot coffee mugs.

Closer each day, still pretending to be far.

Holidays were never a busy time at The Deuce, which meant that the crowd at that New Year's Eve party was something you'd never seen before.

Being one of the smaller, lesser known clubs at the Strip, your parties were always a bit more inconspicuous. Smaller bands, smaller crowds, a lot less trouble. For some reason — and you suspected it was due to the news of a certain frontman’s charisma spreading through the city like wildfire — everything you expected was turned upside down this year.

Tickets were sold out that afternoon, and the bouncer had manager to squeeze in a few more people waiting in line. All pretty girls, of course. You had drinks to sell, after all.

The beginning of the night went as smoothly as you could manage. You got in earlier than usual, as did the rest of the staff, and by the time people started rolling in, you barely had time to greet Robin and Steve, who promptly found a place to sit further from the stage.

It was funny, seeing all of your old friends under the same roof again, even if it was just for one night. The boys came from backstage to say hello for a moment, and it was almost like being back at The Hideout again, with those same old drunks, and much less history between all of you. If you closed your eyes, it was almost like being there again.

If you looked closely, though, the strained smiles and awkward small talk amidst your closest friends and Eddie told you everything would never be the same again, not even if you tried.

A new year, a new life. Wishes to make, though yours was always the same.

You tried to shake that feeling, though, and concentrate on work. On the buzzing, electric feeling in the air, on the loud chatter and the music the DJ was playing in the background, on the eminent excitement for midnight to come.

Your wish happened to come out of backstage again that evening right before the band came on, wrapping one arm around your shoulder while you carried an empty tray towards the bar.

Your heart raced as he leaned closer, voice lowered for your ears only. “Do you see that guy over there?”

He pointed at a man sitting by himself, close to the stage — as close as he could get without getting into the crowd that was already forming in front of it. He looked like a mixture of Kim Fowley and a Ken doll, nothing too out of the ordinary for the men you saw regularly here, but he was definitely not a regular.

“Who is that?” You whispered back at him as you placed the tray back on the counter. Eddie remained there, with his arm around you, his body learning against your side. You could tell how excited he was by the wild grin on his face.

“He's here for us. Linda called on some favors with an old friend who knows people, and… voi-fucking-lá. We have an in.”

“Good luck, then.” You smiled, turning to fully look at him. “You're gonna need it.”

You were not expecting it when he left a lingering kiss on your forehead before walking away.

If there was a strange feeling growing on the back of your throat, you tried your best to ignore it. It stayed there as you watched Corroded Coffin perform what you thought was their best night there, their music rising and rising the crowd until they broke like a wave, manic guitars and heavy drums working them for their own pleasure.

It stayed until the clock struck midnight, and Eddie threw a kiss at you from the stage, and you pretended to catch it in the air and place it in your heart. Somehow, that felt more intimate than the dozens of couples kissing all around you.

All hell broke loose after the band left the stage.

The DJ returned, where he would stay until the bar closed, and as everyone scattered around the bar, it was the usual pandemonium you were already used to, but with much more people. The bar was busy, which meant you were busy, but not too busy to sneak a shot or two with Steve and Robin, or watch the former flirt with Heather behind the bar.

Eddie and the boys were all around, talking to everybody. It felt nice to see them in their element, especially Eddie with his big gestures and loud personality — he was right at home, there. It felt even nicer when you managed to cross each other, his hands always finding a way to touch you, to let you know he was there.

As good nights, though, that one also had to come to an end.

It started to crumble when you had a full tray of beers, and a man bumped into you. You tripped, but didn't fall, thanks to all the practice you'd had. The man grabbed your waist, then, harshly. “Whoa, there! Falling for me already?”

“You wish. Let go.” You responded, curly, already trying to escape. It wasn't the first time you dealt with one of these types, and it wouldn't be the last. Keeping your cool was the best you could do in a situation like this.

“Not yet. Let me show you a good time, baby.”

“I said let me fucking go.” You gritted through your teeth. Some people around started to notice, and it wasn't long until they started staring. His hands started to lower on your hips, whining some you couldn't understand through slurred speech, until you felt someone push the man's shoulder.

“She said let go, man. You heard it the first time.”

“Not right now, pretty boy.” He pointed at Eddie, and you saw an opportunity to pull yourself away, and didn't resist stepping on his foot, hard.

“Asshole. Get the fuck out of here.”

The man’s face grew red with pain, and anger, no doubt. “Bitch!”

You heard Eddie let out a bitter laugh before his face was flying at the man’s face, who upon impact, lost balance and barrelled into you again, but with full force this time, sending the beers on your tray flying, glass shattering on the floor, and beer spilling onto you.

It was like being in the middle of a hurricane. Eddie fought the guy, who was already on the floor, as the boys came running to drag Eddie away. Robin, with Steve on her tow, pulled a startled you by the hand and away from there. Her and Heather lead you towards Linda’s office at the back, but all you wanted was to look back.

In your haste, you'd left the door unlocked.

The bathroom inside the small office room was cramped, but better than the ones outside. Robin had offered to come in with you, but you wanted to cool off alone. She waited outside as you attempted to clean yourself, your black top hanging from the sink as you wiped the drink off your chest with paper towels.

Your heart still beating fast in your eardrums, though the adrenaline was starting to wear off, made you tremble a bit, a cold shiver going through your body. You didn't know if it was relief that nothing worse happened, or if it was the phantom memory of Eddie’s hands gripping your body close to his.

You sighed, looking at your disheveled self in the blurry, dirty mirror.

The door handle rattled behind you, and you answered without looking. “I'll be right out, Rob.”

“Buckley is outside with Harrington and the bartender chick.” There's a slightly injured hand, free of the usual rings adorning it, holding the door a few inches open, and a face obscured by overgrown bangs. “Can I come in?”

Through your daze, you made yourself a reminder to trim Eddie’s hair when you could.

Sensing his hesitation, you smiled as best as you could through your reflection, feeling too vulnerable to look back. “Yeah. Of course.”

Quietly, — too quietly for Eddie — he came in and the door clicked closed behind him, but he didn't move, staying still with his back against it. You realized he was probably trying to make himself smaller, as to not scare you even further. Your heart grew warm while your body still shivered.

“Is everyone alright?”

When you turned, you noticed you were mirroring each other's positions. Trying to stay as far as possible in that tight space, arms pressed to yourselves, as the red string between you pulled and pulled and pulled, strained to the point of breaking.

It didn't, it wouldn't.

“Yeah, they kicked the guy out. Uh… I kicked the guy out, actually, and the guys helped, but yeah.” He chuckled nervously. You couldn't see them, but if you had to guess, the tips of his ears would be bright red. “Linda threatened him to never come back with that pistol she keeps under her desk, you should have seen it.”

You giggled despite yourself, “Man, how could I have missed that.”

“Are you alright?” Big brown eyes stared at you from across the small room and, as they always did, disarmed you completely.

“I'm alright.” You turned again, reaching to give your wet top a thorough squeeze before putting it on again. “Didn't get hurt, just got wet…”

You forced a laugh, but Eddie didn't return the sentiment. When you looked back again, he wasn't looking at you anymore.

He was crouching, picking something off the floor. The ceiling light wasn't on, just the yellow one over the mirror, and you struggled to see what it was until he straightened himself up, shuffling on his boots. The first thing you noticed on his right hand was a silver chain, and at the end of it, a red guitar pick. It must have fallen while you took your top off in a hurry.

You knew it like the back of your own hand. It was slightly chipped at the bottom, the scaly red slowly losing its former glossy finish, the faded Fender logo at the center of it.

You knew he knew it too.

“Where did you get this?”

A hand stretched between you, like a long corridor in a dream. Just within your line of sight, but unreachable. The necklace hung from it, limp, its silver chain glinting in the yellow light of the flickering lamp.

When you didn't answer, Eddie’s voice hardened. “I'm not gonna ask again.”

Your eyes were focused on the red guitar pick, not on his face. You swallowed hard, “I think you already know.”

“No, I don't.” He emphasizes it with your name, and it hurts you to hear it. The atmosphere changed completely, then. “I lost this years ago after a show in Indy, but you were already gone. Where did you get it?”

Eddie's voice trembled with something you only describe as betrayal. There was grief too, somewhere in there. Your shattered heart ached, but you couldn't find it in yourself to say something. Anything.

“What have you been hiding from me?” He had never sounded this quiet. It scared you.

“Nothing you don't already know.” You mumble, staring at the floor. “Like I said, I think you already know.”

Frustrated, he stomps his feet, but you don't flinch. “Goddamnit! Just tell me. Tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

“So, you do know?”

Narrowed eyes met in the middle. The red string tensed, and bent — does it break? Could it, ever? Sometimes you wished you could snap it. For his sake, not yours. But all it did was stretch impossibly tighter, like the fist that closed itself around your heart.

“I don't…” Eddie's eyes glistened in the dark, whiskey dark, swimming in murky waters. “I feel like I don't know you like I thought I did.”

You broke first, approaching the door with trembling legs, like a deer in headlights. The two of you stared at each other closely for what felt like more than just a mere moment, unsaid things hanging heavy in the air.

“Did you ever?”

It doesn't break, but bends, and bends, and bends.

[krirebr]

More Than This 4

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~6.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, Linda being Linda, a panic attack, p in v sex, sex in maybe not the best mindset, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: I thought this was gonna be a short one. 😂

Gigantic thanks as always to @paperweight91 who helped me figure out what the problem was when I was really struggling to feel inspired on this one, and then later on when the narrative took a bit of a turn that I wasn't expecting, she helped me navigate it and come out the other side. Chelsea, you continue to be the very best!

And an additional hat tip to @thezombieprostitute, who left a comment on the last part that inspired part of Linda's visit here. Thanks, dear!!

Unsurprisingly probably, this is another sad one. But I hope it'll be worth it!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

“Hey, Steve. It’s me. Again. Your sister. Um, shit. Yeah, you’re at work now, aren’t you? Sorry, I still haven’t gotten used to the time difference. I got your texts, and, uh, everything is fine. I’m– I’m doing good. But I miss you. And it’d be nice to hear your voice. But I’m fine, I’m good, I promise. I just– I’ll try again soon. Love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and sighed, setting your phone down beside you. You hadn’t actually spoken to Steve since you’d gotten on the plane a week ago. Which was fine. You were doing fine. He’d texted you. And he was busy. You knew he was. It’d be easier, you thought if you were too. But everything had been unpacked. The housekeeper took care of all the upkeep of the house and you got the distinct impression that she didn’t much care for your “help,” so now when she was here you mostly tried to stay out of her way. Even Lola was getting tired of going for walks around the neighborhood.

You’d barely seen your husband since your disastrous attempt at sex. He’d been avoiding you, leaving early in the morning and coming home late at night. You hadn’t talked about what happened. You’d barely talked about anything.  

You looked at your laptop on the coffee table and exited out of the WebMD entry on erectile dysfunction. That wasn’t helping. With nothing to do and no one to talk to, all you could do was think about what would happen to you if you couldn’t get Ransom to fuck you. If you didn’t get pregnant. You still hadn’t seen the contract and weren’t sure what the actual terms were, but you knew the consequences would be nothing good. 

Steve had had an aunt on his mother’s side who’d been found in breach of contract and had her marriage dissolved. You never really knew her, but you remembered how Joseph talked about her, about the desperate arrangement she’d eventually had to settle for, the sadness in Steve’s eyes whenever she came up. That wouldn’t be you, couldn’t be you. You knew you wouldn’t even start to feel secure in your arrangement until that part of the contract had been fulfilled. You just needed to figure out how.

But, dwelling on it wasn’t helping. Googling possible causes of Ransom’s issue wasn’t helping (although it was better than listening to the voice in your head that wouldn’t stop telling you that he just didn’t want to touch you). You needed something to do. Back in LA, you’d worked part-time at an art gallery Steve had introduced you to. You’d mostly answered the phones and greeted people as they came in, but you’d liked it. There had to be something like that available in Boston. And at least trying to find it would give you something to focus on.

So you lost yourself in compiling a list of galleries you could try to contact, sitting on the couch with Lola curled up beside you. When Ransom came home late that night, that’s how he found you. You looked up, startled when he came in the door, and found a similar expression on his face. 

“Oh,” he said. “You’re still up,” as he took off his coat and shoes.

“Yeah,” you said, not knowing what else to say.

He nodded and came as far as the beginning of the living area, then stopped and just stared at you for a moment. You waited for whatever it was he was going to say. Then, finally, “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” then, gathering your courage and hoping you wouldn’t be shut down, you added, “I started to look for a job.”

“Oh,” he looked mildly surprised. “Do you have any experience?”

You pushed down the tinge of hurt that bubbled up at that. The question wasn’t completely uncalled for. Many of your friends back home had never worked a day in their lives. But you couldn’t help feeling a little defensive when you answered, “Yes, I worked at the front desk of an art gallery back home. I liked it. I’d like to find something like that here.”

Ransom hummed thoughtfully as he nodded. “Well,” he said, looking off into the corner of the room, “uh, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”

“Oh,” you said, too surprised to say anything else for a moment. You’d been sure he’d say no. You weren’t quite sure what to do with an offer of help, of all things. And you would need his help if you got the job, with a way to get yourself there at the very least. But you didn’t want to jinx it or push things too far right now, so you just said, “Thank you. I will.” And then, “Uh, how was your day?”

“It was fine,” he said, stiffly. “Busy, I’ve been really busy. And I’m, uh, I’m exhausted now. So I’m going to go straight to bed. Feel free to stay up as late as you want. Obviously.” And just like that, he turned on his heel and left the room. 

You should’ve gone after him, maybe. Made him talk to you about it. Or just taken your clothes off while he was talking (although that hadn’t worked the first time). Something. But you were tired too and you just didn’t have it in you, as important as you knew it was. 

So, you gave it about half an hour before you went to bed yourself, going through your nighttime routine as quietly as you could in the ensuite. When you went back out to the bedroom, you found Lola already on the bed, curled up against Ransom’s side. You stopped, wondering if you should move her. She’d slept in the bed with you for the last four nights, ever since that awful night, and Ransom hadn’t said anything about making her stop. And he obviously hadn’t noticed her snuggling up next to him, so maybe it was fine. You climbed in next to her and wrapped your body around hers, ignoring the way it made you brush up against Ransom, too.

The next afternoon, you were busying yourself with trying to reorganize your walk-in closet, when you heard someone moving around downstairs. It wasn’t one of the housekeeper’s days, so you made sure you had your phone on you and started down the stairs with caution. 

When you got about halfway down, you saw Linda standing in the middle of the living room. “Linda!” you exclaimed, unable to hide your shock at her standing before you. “Ransom didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by. I didn’t know you had a key.”

“Of course, I do, I’m his mother. And I’m the one who set him up with this house.” She cast a judgemental eye on the room. “I see you’ve been moving some things around.”

“Oh,” you said, now at the bottom of the stairs and looking around a little worriedly. You’d tried so hard to disrupt as little as possible. “Not much, I don’t think. Just a little to make room for my own things.”

Linda hummed in a way that made you want to shrink inside yourself. “Well,” she said and held out a gift bag. “I brought you a little something.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, forcing a smile as you took the gift, slightly afraid of what might be in it. You glanced inside, moving aside the tissue paper to find about a dozen pregnancy tests. “Oh,” you said, afraid if you said anything more you might burst into tears. It was fine it was fine it was fine.

“Just want you to be prepared,” she said.

“Thank you,” you forced out. “You really shouldn’t have.” 

“Well,” she clapped her hands together, “why don’t you get us some coffee?”

You forced another smile, trying to cover the panic you felt that she was staying. “Yes, of course.” You took your time getting the coffee prepared in the kitchen. Once it was ready, and you had the cream and sugar and everything else gathered on a tray, you couldn’t delay it any longer and brought everything out to the living room. Linda helped herself to a mug, finishing it to her liking as you did the same. You caught, though, the little face she made at her first sip. That was fine, it was her son’s fucking coffee.

“This is nice,” she said, in that particular syrupy tone of voice she had that meant she was trying too hard to seem friendly. “Just the two of us. Overdue.”

You made yourself nod. “Yes,” you said, “It’s great to see you.”

“I was talking to Ransom this morning, and he mentioned that you’re looking for a job?”

“Oh,” you started, something about her tone making you cautious, “yeah, you know, something to keep me occupied. I used to work at an art gallery and I’m hoping I can do something similar here.”

She took a sip of her coffee, then pursed her lips. “Well, that sounds lovely. But are you sure it’s a good idea with a baby on the way?”

You did your best to chuckle, trying to keep things light as you felt a sinking feeling in your stomach. “I’m not pregnant yet, Linda.”

“Maybe not, but you will be soon. And do you really think it’s fair to get a job when you’re just going to have to quit in a few weeks anyway?”

You stared at her confused, your own coffee now forgotten. “We don’t know exactly when I’ll get pregnant.” You may not care for Ransom much, but you certainly weren’t going to discuss his possible impotence with his mother. Or the fact that he just didn’t want you. “And I don’t understand why I would have to quit once I got pregnant anyway.”

“Well, I’m sure Ransom won’t want you working once you’re pregnant. He’ll want you to focus on growing his child and getting everything prepared for the baby.”

You felt the air go out of your lungs. All you could do was gape at her. What? You flashed back to the wedding, to Harlan telling you how good you were going to be for Ransom. To your mother telling you to keep him happy. To Joseph’s speech barely even mentioning you. It was like you as a person didn’t exist anymore. You were just here for him. Your whole life set up just to cater to him. You felt the tears starting to gather in your eyes, but you would not cry in front of this woman. 

“But,” you started, “you worked all through your pregnancy and Ransom’s childhood, didn’t you? I don’t understand why I wouldn’t be able to, too.”

“Oh,” she said, as she gave you the most condescending look you might have ever received, “I see. You think you and I are the same. Sweetheart, no. I helped my father choose my arraignment. I came into it with my own money, having already established myself. A real career, not some silly part-time gallery job. I’m the one who supports Richard. I’ve always had the power. I was never you. And you will never be me. So, how about you let Ransom take good care of you and you focus on the things that you can give him, hmm?”

You just stared at her, feeling suddenly numb. What the fuck were you supposed to say to that? You’d only spoken to her a few times and every single time she’d made you feel so small, insignificant, weak. 

She placed her mug on the table and stood up. “I’ll get out of your hair now, dear, but this was so nice. We’ll have to do it again soon.” She stood in front of you as all you could do was sit and stare. She raised her perfectly manicured eyebrow at you and you finally realized that she wanted you to stand. You robotically did so, still so numb from this short visit. As soon as you were upright, she gave you a stiff hug and patted you on the shoulder. “I’m so glad we were able to put this silly job idea to bed,” she said. “I’ll show myself out. Have a good rest of your day, darling.” And then she was gone and you were left standing alone in the middle of Ransom’s living room.

You spent the rest of the afternoon running Linda’s visit through your mind, over and over. The thing you couldn’t understand was why, if Ransom was so against you working, he hadn’t said anything about it last night. Wouldn’t it have been easier to just tell you no right away, rather than siccing his mother on you the next day? Why would he say yes? Was it just so that he could look like the good guy before he had his mom do his dirty work for him? Was he really that much of a chickenshit? 

When you got to a point when you thought you might actually drive yourself crazy if you thought about it anymore, you got your phone out and tried, once again, to call Steve. 

You’ve reached the phone of Steve Rogers. Please leave a message after the beep.

You wanted to scream. You were so fucking tired of talking to his machine. Every time you thought you couldn’t feel more alone, you just fell deeper.

“Hey, Steve. Um, I’d really love it if you could call me back. I know you’re busy. I don’t mean to– I’m sorry. I just– I just really miss you. I’d really like to talk to you. I love you. Ok. Bye.”

You hung up and then just stared at your black phone screen for a moment. You couldn’t just sit in the house anymore. “Lola!” you called out into the house, not sure of where she’d gotten off to. “Want to go for a walk?”

Ransom didn’t come home that night, the absolute fucking coward.

When you woke up the next day, you couldn’t tell if Ransom’s side of the bed had been slept in or not. Lola was sprawled across it, taking up much more space than her tiny body would indicate. You decided not to dwell on it.

There was a text message from Steve, sent in the middle of the night.

Hey chipmunk. I’m so sorry I keep missing your calls. I’ve been absolutely slammed this week. I’ll try to call you soon. Hope you’re doing ok. I miss you so much. Love you.

You couldn’t stop staring at it. The childhood nickname combined with the distance the message represented made your whole chest ache. 

As the day wore on, you didn’t know what to do with yourself. The housekeeper didn’t want you around. All the unpacking was done. You couldn’t look for a job. You tried to read but you couldn’t focus. You called Steve but he didn’t pick up, again, and you just didn’t have it in you to leave another message.  

You felt like you sleepwalked through the whole day, so when Ransom walked in in the evening, you were startled to realize the day was gone.

Lola lept off your lap on the couch and ran to him as soon as he came in the door, hopping up and down and prancing in front of him. He froze, his scarf halfway off his neck and caught in his hands. “What is it doing?” he asked, turning to you, absolutely bewildered.

“I– I don’t know,” you said, staring at your dog. It was stupid, you knew it was so stupid, but you couldn’t help the frisson of betrayal that ran through you. She was supposed to be yours. She was supposed to love you, only you. And now she was consorting with the enemy. And you were jealous of a dog. But what else did you have? Your husband wouldn’t touch you, your brother wouldn’t call you back, and now your dog loved someone else. It all made you want to sob. “I think she’s happy to see you.”

He looked at you aghast. “Why?!”

“I don’t know,” you said again. “Lola,” you called, but she was still hopping up and down in front of Ransom. “Lola!” She turned at your stern tone and reluctantly ran back to you. You picked her up and cradled her in your arms. “Sorry,” you said to Ransom, then quietly murmured, “What were you doing?” into her fur. You glanced at the time. “You’re home early.”

“Uh, yeah,” he said, somewhat sheepish. “Finally got out of work at a decent hour.”

“Oh.” It felt so weird to have him here. “I guess we could have dinner. Have you eaten?”

“Uh, no. Dinner sounds great.” He finally came out of the entryway and began digging through his fridge, pulling out two of the pre-prepared meals his housekeeper kept there. 

As he put them in the microwave, all you could do was stare at him. You’d had the last twenty-four hours to stew in your anger and sadness and now all you really felt was tired. There was nothing you could do. It was his house, his family that held the strings. You were far from home with no one to back you up. He’d seen to it that you didn’t have a job to fall back on. All you could do was go along with what he wanted. The only thing you could do was make your place here more secure. As he bent down to get a plate out of the microwave, you blurted out, “Why won’t you fuck me?”

He straightened up quickly and stared at you. “What the fuck?!”

“I just–” you tried, “Has that happened before? Your problem. I’ve read that as men get older that happens sometimes.”

“I’m thirty-five, not fucking sixty. What the actual fuck?” He loudly dropped the plate down in front of you. “Eat your fucking food. I’m not talking about this.”

You sullenly started in on your food, it was pasta. You barely tasted it. You needed to keep talking about this, but doing it while he was angry probably wasn’t the best approach. 

He heated up the other plate and then joined you, taking a seat next to you at the island. You both ate in silence, until he finally said, “I just don’t think this is anything we need to rush into. We have plenty of time.”

You looked up at him. Of course, he wouldn’t think there was any rush. Of course, he didn’t have any personal stakes in you getting pregnant. Of course, he could forbid you from working but then deny you the one thing that would give you something to fucking do here. Something that would take a portion of your anxiety away. “We don’t actually,” you growled. “We have no idea how long it’s going to take me to get pregnant.”

“You keep saying that, but I just– I think rushing it would be a mistake. We have more time than you think and putting this off until we know each other better is a good idea.”

And suddenly, you saw red. Every single fucking thing was on his terms. His hometown, his family, his house, his things, his staff, his single car, his timetable. “And how are we supposed to do that, huh?” you yelled, standing up now. “When you’re gone before I wake up and you cross your fingers I’m in bed before you get home. If you even come home! When exactly is this getting to know each other supposed to happen?!”

“Hey!” he yelled, standing up as well. Lola ran upstairs at the sound of his stool scraping against the hardwood. “Calm the fuck down! What is the big fucking deal if we wait a few months rather than doing it right now?”

“Because the longer we wait the less time I’ll have to get pregnant! And the more likely it’ll be that it won’t happen and we’ll nullify the contract and our marriage will be dissolved. And you’ll be fucking fine! You’ll still be your grandfather’s and your mother’s heir. Nothing will happen to you. But I’ll be sent back to Joseph. I’ll have to accept a second arrangement with anyone who will take me. I’ll– I’ll–” You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe. The room was getting smaller, pressing in on you, and you couldn’t breathe. 

You sank down to the floor and suddenly Ransom was in front of you. He called your name, but it was hard to process it. He called it again and you made eye contact with him. “You’re having a panic attack. You’re ok. You’re alright. I’m here.” He was speaking so quietly, so gently. “I’m here to help you, ok? I’m going to stay with you.” You nodded as best you could. “Can I touch you?” he asked, and you immediately shook your head. “Ok,” he said quickly, “that’s fine. That’s ok. I won’t touch you. You’re breathing too fast, ok? You need to slow down. Can you breathe with me? Come on, do it with me.” And then he breathed in slowly and you tried to match his rhythm. In and out, in and out, so slowly. At some point, he started counting. In 1 2 3 4 5. Out 1 2 3 4 5. Eventually, you could do it on your own, without him coaching you. 

You spent a few more minutes on the floor with him, you both just breathing at each other. Then finally you were able to find your words. “I’m ok,” you said. “I’m alright. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, still so gentle. “Nothing at all. Can you get up?” You nodded and he helped you up. “Are you hungry?” he asked and you shook your head. “Ok, I’ll clean the food up later. Can I help you upstairs?” You nodded and he, very carefully, put his hand on your back, so slowly that you had all the time in the world to pull away. His touch was warm, soft. His touch was always so soft with you.

He guided you to the bedroom where Lola was already on the bed, shaking steadily and looking at you with big, fearful eyes. You climbed on and curled up next to her. “You’re ok,” you whispered to her. “I’m sorry we scared you.” She scooted so she was snuggled up right against you and you carded your fingers through her fur, scratching gently.

Ransom hovered at the foot of the bed. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

“Of course,” he said. “Has that happened before?”

You shook your head. “No, I don’t think so. How did you know how to help?”

“Oh, uh,” he rubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking down at the floor, “I used to get them when I was a kid. I had a nanny who, uh, she was really good about them.”

You just nodded, feeling like you should tuck away that information. You knew so little about him, real things that hadn’t been in the binder. You wanted to file away everything you could.

“Are you– Will you be ok if I go take care of the food?”

You nodded again. “Yeah,” you said, softly. “I’ll be fine. Lola will take care of me. Won’t you, baby?” Lola flopped onto her back so that you could give her tummy scratches and you let out a soft giggle. You smiled up at Ransom, to reassure him. And he just sort of stopped. And stared at you. Your brow furrowed as you became self-conscious under his gaze and your smile started to drop. 

He suddenly shook himself out of whatever had been happening and nodded. “Yeah, ok. Yell if you need me,” and he darted out of the room. 

You weren’t sure exactly how long he was gone. You passed the time snuggling with Lola, taking comfort in her. You felt shaky and raw. And scared, still scared of everything that could happen, everything you’d yelled at Ransom about. And Ransom himself, how he would take to being yelled at like that, once he was done being worried. 

You heard his heavy footfalls at the top of the stairs and looked up as he came back into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and turned so you could see half his face. “I didn’t–” he started and stopped. Then, after another moment, “I didn’t realize you were so worried about all of this.”

“How would you?” you asked, your eyes cast down, locked on Lola as you continued to pet her. “You’re never here. We never talk.”

“I’ve been really busy,” he said, just a tinge of defensiveness in his tone. “Work’s been awful.” He paused, then repeated, “I’ve been really busy.”

“Sure,” you said.

Neither of you said anything for long minutes. You just kept petting Lola, your hand moving over her body rhythmically. 

Then finally, Ransom said lowly, “We can work on it. Getting pregnant. If that will make you feel better. Make things easier for you.”

“Can we?” you asked. “I don’t know if what happened– if that was something that happens to you a lot, or if,” you looked back down, “or if you just don’t want me.”

He moved his hand so that his fingertips grazed yours on the bed. “It’s not that. It wasn’t ever that, ok?” You couldn’t help the way your whole body heated, just a bit, at the implication. You looked up just as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “I just– You were clearly so scared. You wanted to be anywhere else, I could tell. You wouldn’t let me touch you, you wouldn’t even look at me. I can’t do it like that. I just can’t.” He opened his eyes and looked right at you. “I just can’t.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “That’s– I’m sorry, I–”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not– I just thought you should know.”

You sat quietly together for a few moments. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I think we should try again.”

He gave you a surprised look. “Now?” You nodded resolutely but he shook his head back at you. “You’re still coming down from your panic attack. This can wait til tomorrow.”

In the aftermath of your anxiety, the anger you’d felt had mostly faded away, but now it bubbled back up again. You were so tired of him dictating how everything would go. “No,” you said firmly. “I don’t want to put it off anymore. I’m fine now. This will make things better.”

He just looked at you, searching your face for something. You tried to show him how calm you were now, how sure. Finally, he let out a long sigh. “Fine,” he said. Then he got off the bed and started taking off his clothes. You scrambled up onto your knees to take your top off, gently coaxing Lola off the bed. She looked up at you, waiting for you to join her, but Ransom, now clad only in his boxers, picked her up, gently you noted, and deposited her in the hallway, shutting the door behind her. He looked at you as you continued to strip down to just your bra and panties, his eyes running over your body, and for the first time, you felt it. Maybe he did want you.

He climbed back on the bed. “Can I kiss you?” he asked. You froze for just a second, then nodded. He slowly brought his mouth to yours and caressed your lips with his own. His lips were soft and warm. The kiss was hesitant on both sides, not exactly passionate, but not chaste either. Nowhere near the worst you’d ever had. A quiet arousal began to pool in your core. Not need, not exactly. But it would be enough, you thought. You broke the kiss and laid down on your back. “I’m not trying to shut you out,” you said, trying to keep your tone kind, “but it’ll be faster, I think, if we both just get ourselves ready.” You started the same as last time, one hand on your breast, the other slowly traveling down your body to play with the hem of your panties. “But you can watch,” you added. “If that’s something you like.” 

He cleared his throat and nodded. Then he reached over and lightly grabbed your underwear with both hands. “Is this ok?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying to push down your nerves. Everything was ok, this was what needed to happen. You were fine. You were ok.

He pulled your panties down your legs, then tossed them on top of his own clothes. You closed your eyes to focus again on your goto fantasy. The man standing over you. His voice in your ear. And again, you heard the sounds of Ransom getting himself ready. The snick of him opening the bottle of lube. The wet sounds of his hand working over his cock. This time you didn’t let it bother you. This time, you willed yourself not to flinch when you felt his hand on your leg. You had two fingers in your cunt and you worked yourself open, your thumb rubbing over your clit. Once you were wet enough, stretched enough, you opened your eyes and sat up. Ransom was staring at you, one hand on his hard cock, kneeling in front of you. 

“Ok,” you said, “I think I’m ready.” He started to move forward, but you stopped him with a hand on his bare chest. “Can I be on top?” you asked. “Is that ok?”

He looked down at where you were touching him and then back up at your face. “Yeah,” he grunted. “Yeah.”

You switched places as he laid down and you moved over him, straddling his pelvis and then carefully lowering yourself onto his cock. You tried not to grimace as he stretched you. He grunted again, as you slowly took more and more of him. Both of his hands came up to grasp your hips as you began to ride him, slowly at first, then picking up your pace. He was staring at your body and it was– it was a lot. Too much. You closed your eyes against it, hoping you just looked like you were into it. As he got closer, he started to buck up into you. You couldn't help but gasp at it. One of his hands moved from your hip to rub circles with his thumb over your clit, the rest of his hand splayed over your pelvis. You breathed through it, trying to let go enough to let yourself come, but you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. That was ok. That didn’t need to happen. Only one of you needed to come tonight.

He continued to buck up into you, his movements becoming more erratic. You balanced yourself with your hands on his shoulders. “Can I–” he grunted. “I’m gonna– Can I move you?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah.”

He sat up and tucked you into him, rolling you both over so that you were now on your back and he was on top of you. He thrust back into you, once, twice, three times, and then he was coming, filling you up. His whole body stuttered over you and then collapsed on top of you. He breathed into your neck for countless moments and you didn’t know why, but you brought your hand up to gently stroke at the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Do you need me to–” he started to ask.

“No,” you said, knowing he was offering to help you finish. “I’m fine. Good. I’m good.”

You felt him nod, just a little, but he didn’t say anything else. It was so quiet, just the sounds of him catching his breath. Then he placed a soft kiss where your neck met your shoulder and lifted himself up and off you. You whimpered, just a little, as he pulled out. 

You quickly lifted your hips up to keep his cum inside of you. You reached blindly next to your head until you found a pillow that you shoved under your lower back to keep your pelvis canted up. Ransom moved around the room, picking his underwear off the floor, and then into the bathroom. A few minutes later he came back out with a washcloth. He moved it towards your cunt and you shot a hand out. “No! Wait.”

“Hey,” he said softly, “it’s ok. Just for your thighs. I know. I understand.” He gently moved the warm washcloth over your legs. “Are you alright?” He asked, not quite meeting your eyes. “Was that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, moving your hand to brush along his forearm. “I’m alright. That was good.”

You lay in bed as Ransom lightly snored on his stomach next to you, Lola curled up between you. You couldn’t sleep. You’d been tossing and turning for about an hour, probably. You sat up. It was no use. Your mind was too busy. Sleep wasn’t going to come.

You grabbed your phone and got out of bed, moving downstairs to the living room as quietly as you could. You curled up on the couch and hugged your knees. You weren’t sure how you felt. It had been fine. Parts of it had even been good, maybe. It’d just, it’d been a long night. You’d gone through so many feelings, and now– Now, you just felt a little empty.

You looked at your phone. It was just before midnight. That meant it’d be a little before nine in LA. Steve hopefully wouldn’t still be working, but he wouldn’t be asleep yet either. He might be out, or painting, or busy some other way, but. It was worth a shot. 

It only rang once. “Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Steve gasped. “Work has been a fucking nightmare, but that’s no excuse. I was going to try to call you tomorrow, but I’m so, so glad you called me now. How are you? Are you ok?”

The tears had started as soon as you heard your brother’s voice. “Steve,” was all you could get out before you were full-on crying.

“Oh, chipmunk, no. What’s wrong?”

You wiped your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get yourself together. You finally had your brother on the phone. You weren’t going to waste the whole conversation crying. “Nothing,” you managed. “I’m ok, I just– I’m just so happy to talk to you.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, and you thought that maybe his voice sounded a little thick too. “Me too. I’m so happy to talk to you. I’m so sorry it’s been so long. How are you doing? Your messages, you sounded– Are you ok?”

You sniffled as you tried to nod and then realized he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m good. It’s just a little lonely here. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too. Everything’s so different here without you. Shit, it’s late there. What are you doing up?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t sleep. It’s been a long day.”

Steve hummed and there was a tone to it you couldn’t quite decipher. “Is Ransom there?”

“Yeah, he’s asleep upstairs.”

“And how is he?” Steve’s tone was decidedly cold now.

“He’s fine,” you said, ignoring it. “His work’s been really busy too.”

“And how’s he been to you?” he asked and you definitely didn’t miss the challenge there.

“He’s been fine, Steve,” you said and you weren’t sure whether or not it was a lie. “Everything’s fine.” You’d already decided you weren’t going to tell him about the job thing. That wouldn’t do anything but upset him. Get him on a plane here, maybe, so he could try throwing his weight around. You rolled your eyes. It was better this way. “I’ve just been unpacking mostly. Nothing too exciting. What about you? What’s going on with you? I want to hear everything.”

“You’re sure it’s not too late there?”

“No, not at all. I’m wide awake. And nothing much to get up for in the morning anyway. But if you’re busy or need to go to bed or something, you can go whenever you need to.”

“Not a chance. I wanna talk to you as long as I can,” Steve said. And you knew he couldn’t see it, but you grinned into the phone anyway.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @emerald-writes @have-another-doughnut @patzammit @blackhawkfanatic @mooievis @dontbescaredtosingalong @curiousandjoyous @identity2212 @helensdrafts @cricket66 @vyctorya @disgruntled-cat @heyyitsreign

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

We've Got Tonight (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader)

Find Part Two Here

A/N: WOW, is all I can say. The alarming support from those of you reading my work is driving me to write more than EVER right now! I cannot say thank you enough, y'all. Your notes and comments inspire me, so please keep it up if you wanna read more from me!

I'm about to bless y'all with some McBeardy angst, so I hope you all enjoy!!

Also, this fic was inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so I highly recommend listening to the song before and/or after reading this one to get into the vibe of it.

Summary: Paul is in his lonesome after a break up. So are you. You decide to keep each other company.

WARNINGS: ANGST, but it gets sweet in the end. Mentions of cheating, low self esteem. Suggestive actions, mentions/insinuation of sex, but no smut (that'll be saved for a bonus part 2 if anyone's interested in that.)

There is mention of the Beatles' extended family, so if I have any incorrect info in here, I apologize in advance; I didn't want this to become too much of a history lesson.

Also, like my other fics, this one is a NOVEL, so please read when you have a good half hour+ of free time :)

I don't wanna rate this a T, but there is no smut in this, so please just be aware that there is sex mentioned/insinuated, so PLEASE just read at your own discretion. But most of all, enjoy!

Paul was sitting on the sofa in the den, alone with the lights out. He was staring out the window at the night in silence as he sucked down another cigarette and sipped at another glass of scotch.

It was late enough that the world around him was dead sleep, yet he was wide awake, and alone with his thoughts.

He broke it off with Linda. She was a sweet girl, and no one was really quite sure why things ended between them, but they all knew it was a mutual agreement.

Paul really hadn't been taking it well, though. He hadn't been sleeping right for almost a month, and he stared drinking a little more. He didn't want anyone really knowing, which is why he did it in his lonesome.

He wasn't necessarily by himself, because the rest of the Beatles were upstairs in their collective rooms asleep; but what made him feel alone was that alongside the bandmates in their rooms were their families and wives. And Paul just didn't have that.

Usually he would have been rather vocal over something that bothered him so much, but the band felt like recently they'd been clashing, so he wasn't wanting to bother them with something like that.

While Paul finished the final puff of his cigarette and put out the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table, his head snapped to the entrance of the den, where he caught sight of a silhouette in the threshold.

You stopped in your tracks when Paul made eye contact with you. You supposed he'd heard your footsteps.

From what you could tell from the light of the moon shining in through the window, Paul seemed worn out. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand before wordlessly nodding to you in acknowledgement.

"... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't know anyone was still awake. I was just needing a drink," you explained quietly. You'd met Paul a few times here and there-- you had to, with Ringo-- or Rich-- your brother, being one of his bandmates and all.

Paul was always kind when you interacted with each other, but you could definitely tell something was a little off about his behaviour this time around.

Rich did mention Paul's break-up to you briefly, but you were going through your own separation, so you were in your own head with your own problems. That's why Rich offered to bring you along with him, Maureen, Zak, and Jason on this trip with the rest of the guys and their families, so you could get away from thinking about your ex.

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar space put you in the same position as Paul; wide awake, in the middle of the night, with a racing mind.

"'S alright," he sighed before drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass and raising to his feet. You watched him move around the room to the alcohol cabinet right outside the kitchen.

He refilled his glass right to the top before wordlessly grabbing a second glass out, tossing in a few ice cubes, and filling it three quarters of the way before sliding it over to you.

Your eyes widened a little, considering you'd actually come down for some water, but maybe this was a sign you were going to want something stronger.

"... Should've asked you if you even like this stuff," Paul stated apologetically when he realized how gentlemanly he was not being. You smiled sadly at him, but picked up the glass anyways.

He matched his glass to the same level as yours before you both gently tapped them together. The sound of the glass chimed for a moment before you and Paul raised the drinks to your lips.

The scotch was harsh, and you surely made an unflattering face as you took a sip, but Paul didn't say anything to you, as he was too busy staring at the ice swirling around in his own glass.

"... What're you doing up so late, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked after a moment of silence, and Paul's big brown eyes met yours for another quiet second as he thought about what to respond with.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek before shrugging and mumbling into his glass, "thinking."

After taking another sip of his drink and staring off into space for a moment or two, he bit his lip, gesturing over to you with his glass.

"And you?" You shook your head, realizing it was your turn to scrounge up an excuse for being wide awake at such an absurd time.

"Can't sleep," you lied.

Paul frowned, motioning you to the sofa he was just sitting on to invite you to sit for a while. After a moment of pondering whether you should really go back to your room, you made up your mind and headed to the sofa, Paul following suit.

There was just something about the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, and behind them was this sadness you just couldn't ignore.

Before he took a seat, you were able to get another good look at him. He was in black jeans, and a green sweater; his day-clothes completely contrasting your pyjama set. He'd grown his hair out since you saw him last, and now he was sporting a full beard.

You always thought he was a good looking guy, but now, without being blinded by any bias, there was really no denying how handsome Paul had become since you seen him last.

In fact, it felt like every time you ended up seeing him next, he always seemed to look better and better, and you weren't quite sure how that was possible.

Paul took the seat right next to you, and he set his drink down on the coffee table, clasping his hands together, elbows on the thighs, and hanging his head.

"To be honest with you... I went through a separation about a month ago. And I don't seem to be handling it well." He finally sighed, turning his head so he was looking at you again. He unclasped his hands and ran his fingers through his beard a few times.

"I'm a romantic, y'know, and I'm not a fan of being so lonely." You nodded your head a little at his words. What was tough was that you didn't have anything encouraging to say to him because you were in the same boat.

Paul swallowed when you remained silent, and then he cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head nervously as he leaned back into the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you're probably just wanting to head to bed." He gave a little head nod of understanding as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "You're not here to talk to me about my problems."

It was your turn to set your drink down on the table, turning your attention to him again.

"Well... will that help make you feel better, perhaps?" you watched Paul's eyes meet yours again, and he pressed his lips together tightly in thought.

"... I don't know if there is really much to say," he said after a moment, reaching for his glass again.

"Thank you, though. Was very kind of you to offer somethin' like that."

After he took another sip of his drink, he gestured to you again with his glass.

"... Ringo sort of mentioned you were going through a separation too... You doin' okay?" Paul tried his best to be as inclusive as possible, but it was all rough stuff to talk about, so he treaded carefully.

"I mean..." you trailed off for a moment before responding with a simple, "I'm angry, above all else."

You were honestly taken aback by Paul's question. Rich wasn't necessarily the greatest person to receive comforting advice from, especially when it came to this separation, since he thought so highly of your ex, but you perhaps weren't telling him the whole truth.

But you were definitely surprised he even mentioned your pain to anyone else, let alone his bandmates.

"Kept a lot of heavy things to myself for a long time, it just became exhausting." Now it was your turn to reach for your scotch, still cringing at its strength as you took a generous mouthful.

Paul waited a beat before asking, "would talking about it with me maybe make you feel better?"

"... you really care to know that stuff?" You asked gently for clarification. As mentioned, you and Paul weren't close, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you met him prior to this moment...

And this was heavy stuff you were seemingly about to share, and you really wanted to make sure he was okay with that.

Paul nodded his head without hesitation, and offered, "'s the least I can do for you for keeping me company so late."

You sighed a deep breath, and took a few more sips from your glass before putting it back down, curling your legs up to your chest, and began.

You told Paul about your ex. You told him about how you were with him for five years, and watched him slowly fall out of love with you, sleep around, and how you struggled with self-image and self-worth for a long time.

You also mentioned how you were the one to leave, but he had no idea you had any strength to do so, so he tried for a long while to guilt you into going back to him.

The difficult things to talk about made you a little more emotional, so you breathed your way through it slowly as to not cry. The drink Paul poured for you was helping you relax at least.

Paul was more than patient with you, and you were grateful for that. At one point during the lengthy conversation, he lit another cigarette, and began offering you drags throughout your story to calm your nerves.

You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.

"... I don't know. I just lay awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different so he didn't do what he did."

You were staring out the window with Paul now, taking in just how many stars you could actually see from the den. He took his final puffs of his smoke, the thin silver waves swirling in the air above the both of your heads.

"Sounds like he didn't cherish you enough when you were around," Paul debated gently, shaking his head and putting out his cigarette end in the ashtray next to the others. He picked up his scotch again before mumbling against the rim,

"He's not worth it."

You pulled yourself from the trance of the tiny lights outside to wipe remnants of silent, salty tears off your cheeks, and you used that moment to glance over at Paul, whose nose was still deep in the glass. When he pulled the drink away from his mouth and swallowed, you parted your lips to speak.

"... was Linda worth it?" You didn't mean it in a rude way, but you hadn't met her personally, and you wanted to pry Paul just a tiny bit.

He smiled, but it was bitter. You figured you struck a nerve, and before you could apologize for what you said, he answered simply, with tears glossing his own eyes,

"Yes. She was."

You tilted your head a little and frowned, trying to understand what drove them apart.

"It was just never the right timing. She was ready for things I wasn't in the beginning, and then down the road, when I was seemingly ready for those things, she wasn't. And I didn't want her wasting her time on a life she didn't wanna live, y'know?"

"So she's the one that got away," you mused gently.

"Indeed, she was." Paul nodded a little before finishing the rest of his scotch in his glass, leaning back again, and cradling his head in his hand as he looked at you for another quiet moment, resting his glass in-hand on his thigh.

"... I'm not a bad person, am I?" Those watery eyes never disappeared, and you had to break his sad gaze, opting to reach out and rub his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, no. Wasting your time, or her time, like the way my ex did to me, would have made you a bad person, Paul. Saying good bye was the right thing to do."

"Well, I wish that made me feel better," he mumbled, dropping his own gaze to the space between the both of you. He pushed a stray tear away before he thought you could see it, and then scratched at his beard again. You guessed that must have been a habit of his out of stress.

"Something about her made me feel like she was the one. Like we were meant to share the same story; but we always seemed to be on a different chapter,"

He sniffled, but only once. "That being said, was I perhaps too lovestruck in the end to want to believe that her future was meant to be shared with someone else?"

His voice carried so much sorrow, and you knew he needed some kind of advice. It took you a moment or so to find the right words to say to him.

"... Knowing my ex wasn't right for me and the reality of me leaving doesn't make me feel any better. At all." You offered to Paul, before adding,

"... But why should the expectations of those we chose to take out of our life dictate the way we behave today?"

The words that came out of your mouth were surprisingly wise, and you watched Paul's eyebrows knit together as he absorbed what you said.

He focused his sight to you again, a more determined look on his face. Paul knew you were absolutely right. He was a charmer; romancing people was his thing.

There was no denying Linda was special, but when he realized he really had no commitment in romancing her anymore, he finally understood that it was his own thoughts holding him back.

Even if it took him a little longer than expected, he knew you were right. He would recover from this.

"... I think you just opened my eyes and made me realize something... Thank you, y/n, really." He reached up with his free hand after a second, fingers grazing your own hand still on his arm in comfort, showing you his gratitude for your words of advice.

You smiled a little, glad you were able to help him somewhat through his times of trouble as you pulled your hand away.

Paul stood up again, retrieving his empty glass from the coffee table before facing you fully, a more genuine smile beginning to pull on the corners of his mouth, but it was still rather sad.

"I'm grabbing a refill, you too?"

Your sight drifted to your near-empty glass on the table.

Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?

"Please," you asked, grabbing the glass yourself, but Paul began to tut at you as he grabbed the glass from your fingers.

"Please, I'll get it for you," he insisted, and you watched his slender figure move around the couch to head for the alcohol cabinet another time. He filled them only halfway this time, and on the way back he made a brief stop at the record player near the entrance of the den.

Soft classical music rang out quietly from the player once Paul dropped the needle down onto the vinyl, and he returned to his spot next to you with your two drinks. You thanked him quietly as he passed the glass over to you, and he leaned in a little, raising his drink between the two of you.

"Hello to... new beginnings," he began slowly.

"And Goodbye to false finales," you finished, your glasses tapping together again before you took yet another sip of the drink.

Paul matched your movements, his eyes watching you, even when you turned away to gaze longingly out the window for a moment, basking in the feeling of the gentle music flirting with your ears.

Sure, you and Paul could have went on for the rest of the night discussing your heartbreak, but you decided to drive the conversation elsewhere.

You sighted back to him after a while, his sight unwavering from you. Your eyes locked for just a beat before you decided aloud with a gentle nod,

"... you know, that beard really suits you."

Paul's eyebrows shot up, and his face darkened a little as he bit his lips between his teeth almost nervously.

"... Think so?"

You'd never seen him lack so much confidence when given a compliment before, but instead of pitying him, you almost admired his innocence.

It sounded like he needed to hear a compliment like that.

"Yes," you laughed airily, raising your glass up for another drink. Paul couldn't bite back his smile anymore, so he copied you to mask his lips. You then gestured to your head with the point of your finger as you swallowed the alcohol back easier and easier each time.

"Your hair, too. I think it's a nice length."

Your kind words made Paul feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he placed his scotch back down on the table.

"Well, thanks, Love." He rubbed the back of his neck, and laughed weakly. "I call it my 'Don't View The Mirror For Three Weeks' look."

Paul paused in his moments of self-deprecation to realize he should have maybe complimented you back. He took a second to take another good look at you as he decided what to say, exactly.

"... Y'know, the last time I saw you was a few years ago, now."

You thought for a moment on that. It had been a while since you'd seen him last. You nodded your head as you recalled the day.

"You're right, it has been some time. Christmas, 1966." John and Cynthia had hosted this massive holiday dinner, and everyone's extended family was there.

You were single at the time, and spent dinner conversing with Paul's sister, Ruth, who was at least fifteen years younger than you. There was no introduction made by Paul, she just walked up, introduced herself to you, and made a friend by herself.

She went on and on about school, and music, and how the potatoes were her favourite part of dinner; and you paid attention to everything she had to say, responding with your own opinions and jokes to keep her feeling included amongst the adults at the table.

And Paul, who was seated next to Ruth, couldn't help but overhear your conversations throughout the evening, and he found it rather charming that you treated Ruth with such respect despite her young age.

And after dinner, you and Ruth danced together almost the whole night. She eventually went over to do a little dancing with Paul, and you watched as she bounced around excitedly with her brother, who, for just a moment, locked eyes with you across the sea of dancing guests.

You remember giving him a shy wave with a smile, and he sent a wink back your way before returning his attention to Ruth, spinning her around as she squealed happily.

"... I'm rather fond of that evening," Paul stated simply, the reality of your melancholy evening strongly contrasting with the memories of the wonderful night.

Now you and Paul weren't so young, and this time he was noticing the little lines under your eyes, indicating the dragging march of time slowly catching up to you both.

"And, even after all the years that have passed... you still look as lovely tonight as you did then."

You blushed at Paul's compliment, biting back a stupid grin as you repeated the words in your head.

"And I admire your ever-present kindness," he added on, and you knew he really just meant he showed appreciation for lending him an ear in his time of need.

"More people need to be like you."

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly, settling for a gentle "thank you," in the end. Paul just nodded, unsure if there was anything to say back.

"You know..." you paused for a second, watching as Paul went for another sip from his glass. "It was quite a shame we never got a dance in that night together, just you and me."

Paul was mid sip when you said that, so you continued on.

"The music was great, everyone was in high spirits, and I was maybe too shy to approach you myself and ask you to dance with me. So I guess that's on me." You scratched your elbow as you announced your rather dumb confession to him.

Paul, who was nearly done with his drink now, waited a moment or two in thought, before rising to his feet, and wandering back over to the record player, scotch still in hand.

You tried to watch his movements over your shoulder, but it was really dark. All you knew was that he was changing the music.

The classical tune cut, and the player began to drawl a much slower, more recent song; one you hadn't yet heard.

Paul turned on his heel as he reapproached the sofa, taking the final sip of scotch he had left in his glass before placing it back down on the table, and reaching his hand out for you to take.

"Well, let's not let this dance wait any longer, then, yeah?"

You froze for just a moment, Paul's outstretched hand hung in the air for a few seconds, and your sight moved up to his face, where you noticed his confidence falter just a little.

"Again, I know it's late, and I know your plans for the night surely didn't include me..."

"But, still, here we are." Your words came out almost effortlessly. You finished your scotch as well, and when you finally put your hand in Paul's, he squeezed your fingers gently, that warm upturn finally returning to his lips.

He guided you slowly over to the windows so you weren't in so much darkness, the moonlight still shining just enough for you both to see one another; and when Paul decided he could see your face much better, he let his other hand drop to your waist, watching as your own hand rested on his forearm.

You both shifted from side to side to the beat of the music, and you stared absentmindedly at the small space between you both.

"... You okay?" He asked you quietly after a minute, and you looked up at him, cheeks reddening as you realized you could feel his breath fanning your face.

"I've realized just how long it's been since I last danced with someone like this," you mentioned sheepishly, and a little smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.

"You don't have two left feet, y'know," his tone was almost teasing, and you smiled back, glad he wasn't feeling so much sadness anymore.

Paul then added with a little shrug, "'Sides, I wanted to dance with you that night, too. But I'm very glad I have the honours now."

Paul began turning with you in slow circles together as you continued to sway, and you took a moment to decide your next words carefully.

"... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it's different when you're dancing with someone who actually wants to dance with you. It's just... it's really nice. So thank you, Paul."

Paul let go of your waist for a moment, and raised your clasped hands above your heads so you could twirl under his arm.  When you did just that, and faced him again, he pulled you just a little closer than you were before, your torsos flush as his hand snaked slowly to the small of your back.

"Thank you," he mumbled back, quietly. You weren't entirely sure what he was thanking you for this time, but you never asked.

Instead, you shut your eyes and opted to rest your head in the crook of his neck as the hand you had on Paul's bicep slid upward so your arm circled around his shoulders, in a half embrace.

And then you felt Paul tilt his own head down as if to envelope you more. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat when he did that.

Paul then began to hum the lyrics of the song, quietly, as if you were the only person in the world who was meant to hear it. Both yours and his eyes were closed now as you two basked in such a beautiful moment.

Two lonely people, finding comfort, and peace in each other.

Paul raised your clasped hands closer to him so he could rest them against his chest. You could actually feel his heartbeat pounding against the side of your hand, which made you a little nervous, but not in a bad way.

Paul stopped moving you around in circles, but the swaying never ceased. He lifted his cheek off your crown after a while, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and raise your gaze back to his face.

Paul smiled so sweetly at you, and you watched his eyes shift ever so slightly from left to right as he looked back into yours. His eyebrows then worried for just a moment before he opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came out.

Your shifting finally slowed to a standstill, and you opened your mouth this time to speak, yet you found yourself in Paul's very position.

There was nothing to say.

You watched as his gaze softened on you, and you weren't sure if it was the drinks, or the lack of sleep, but it was like you could almost feel the gravity around you manipulating you to move just a little closer to him.

And he must have felt it as well. Paul's head began to drop slowly, and it wasn't long before you met him in the middle, your lips coming together in a very soft, and very unplanned kiss. The both of you kept still, almost as if the smallest move would have frightened the other away.

You were both holding your breath as well, and Paul pulled away from the kiss first, arm still wrapped around your back, hand still clasped in yours.

He was staring at you in awe, as were you, eyes wide, and lips still slightly parted as you both processed what exactly just happened.

Paul still couldn't muster any words, nor could you, for that matter; but he could definitely read your gaze. Your eyes were almost begging him to do that again.

And that's exactly what happened; your lips came crashing into each other again after only another second.

You weren't stupid, and neither was he. You both already knew this night was going to become something else entirely. You were craving the touch of someone, and you didn't even have to tell him.

You could just tell with the way he was moving his mouth against yours, and the way his body was flush with you, that he was wanting it just as bad.

Paul's hand finally let go of yours so he could lace his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, and your own hand slid around to his back. He tried pulling you even closer, but it just wasn't possible.

You sighed quietly as you kissed him again, and again, and Paul's hand unweaved itself from your hair as he cupped your face before breaking the kiss off again, another troubled look on his face.

"Ringo'll kill me if he knew I was--"

"Paul, please. I need this," you didn't let him finish his sentence. You didn't really care what your brother thought of anything, and you assumed, deep down, Paul really didn't care either, because he dove back in for more kisses as soon as he could.

His hands cupped your jawline as you gripped his sweater in your fists at his chest. You parted your mouth slightly and just melted into Paul's arms when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.

You moaned lowly against him, ears ringing, and all Paul could think to do was blindly shuffle you backwards towards the sofa, but instead, you felt the coffee table hit the back your legs, and you nearly stumbled back. The glasses, once filled with scotch but now only ice, shuffled against the table's surface at the force of you bumping into it.

Paul ended your kiss once more, one of his hands leaving the side of your face to circle around your hips quickly so you didn't fall back. He smiled at you when he knew you weren't going anywhere, offering you a teasing, "maybe you do have two left feet, Darling."

That wonderful pet name made your flesh rise with goosebumps, but all you could mumble to him was, "Just shut up and kiss me, Paul."

Without hesitation, he did just that, which felt like an eternity to the both of you since the last one.

He, still blindly, yet carefully, directed you around the table and to the sofa. Paul, with his hands holding your hips, was the first to sink down, but encouraged you to straddle him as soon as he was fully seated with an encouraging tap to the back of your thighs.

It was your turn to pull away now, your dominant hand resting flat against the centre of Paul's chest as you gave him a good once-over, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Paul was leaned back, lips parted and shining, assumably from the spit you'd been exchanging, and his eyes almost twinkling at you in adoration.

Your heart was full of something you hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was all because of this sensual interaction.

You reached out with your other hand and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, his shallow breath fluttering gently against the skin on your fingers. You tilted his head up and kissed him again, and your fingernails just couldn't resist playing with his beard any longer.

Paul's grip on your hips tightened when you started doing that, and when you decided to take your other hand off his chest and start playing with his hair, he let out a very low groan against your lips, and to both of your surprise, his hips bucked up involuntarily against you.

He gasped at his own actions, and you pulled away to view the look of apologetic shock written on his face. His cheeks and neck were flushed, and his eyebrows were bent in worry, again.

"I-I promise I didn't mean to..." Paul's voice carried a hint of... shame, almost. You watched as he nervously toyed his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried searching his brain for something to say, but the effects of his drink and your sweet attention had him grasping for any type of clear thought.

But all of his attempts went completely out the window when you lowered your hips down and rocked them back against his, his head falling back against the sofa as his eyes rolled, a guttural moan rumbling from deep within his chest.

It was absolutely apparent that Paul's jeans were lacking the room they'd possessed a few minutes prior, and when you repeated the circular motion with your hips again, feeling him hard against your core, you were rewarded with another low growl from him.

"W-wait," Paul uttered weakly after a second, arms and fingers tightening at your hips to keep you from moving around and teasing him again, as much as he didn't want you to stop.

"I want this so much. I want you so much," he began, taking a beat to rake his eyes down your body as his tongue swiped against his own bottom lip. His gaze flitted back to your eyes, and he swallowed nervously.

"I don't want you to do this if you aren't, y'know..." you waited for him to finish his thought, and his round pink cheeks seemed to flush just a little more.

"If you're not okay with it."

You took a second to think on his argument. You and he were relatively fresh out of troubled relationships, and you both seemed to be hurting from the aftermath of said relationships...

But you were so lonely, too. And, to each other, you were simply beautiful, and respectful people, offering your... company... in a time of isolation for you both.

And it wasn't like there was any label for what you two were, either. All you and Paul needed was to feel wanted-- to feel loved.

And only if you could experience such a feeling for one more night in your life, Paul was offering now. And you were going to take it.

"I want this moment to last, Paul. If you're okay with making me feel wanted again, I am more than comfortable doing the same for you."

You could see him visibly relax when you said that, relief washing over his features as he reached a hand up to caress the back of your neck and bring you into a single, sweet kiss. You still couldn't get over how gentle and polite he was still being about all of this.

"We should really... go to my room," Paul suggested quietly after pulling a fraction of an inch away from the contact. You nodded your head, sighing "okay" as Paul closed the gap between you both just once more, only for a peck.

He let go of your hips and he reached for your hands instead, fingers intertwining slowly, and affectionately. You slid out of his lap, and Paul rose to his feet, guiding you without a hurry towards of the threshold of the den, where you stood to greet him unexpectedly just an hour or so before this moment.

The 45 on the record player had since finished playing the song, needle spinning needlessly in silence. Paul briefly resituated the player before continuing your journey one step at a time towards his bedroom, the heart in your chest beating erratically.

You climbed the stairs together, one dragging step at a time, and Paul led you around the corner of the hallway, pausing at the first room on the right. He glanced over at you, hand on the doorknob as he gave you another look. One that was asking a final, "are you sure?"

You placed your free hand over Paul's without a sound, and together you opened the door. He pulled you in for one more intimate embrace, lips on yours again before he pulled you into the dark room, gently kicking the door closed behind him.

And that night, you stayed with Paul. Hand-in-hand, bodies entwined, souls healing, loneliness fading away, and hopes of feeling whole again finally returning.

Being awake in the middle of the night had never been so gratifying.

------------------------------------------

A/A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! like I said, I can always whip up a part 2 regarding what happened behind those closed doors, so lmk if you're interested in that at all! Thanks for the support again and stay tuned for more works!

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@strawb3rri-le

(If you wanna be added/ removed from any of my lists, please message me and let me know!!)

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Ethel Waters (Rufus Jones for President, On With the Show, Cabin in the Sky)— Came from poverty, made it as a blues singer on the vaudeville circuit, part of the Harlem scene (including drag and rumours of girlfriends 👀), got into the movies! Born on Halloween! Go listen to her sing

Linda Darnell (Hangover Square, Unfaithfully Yours, A Letter to Three Wives)— Her dick is ENORMOUS. She was Fox’s resident bad girl for a while, and she was goddamn sexy during it. She could also play sweeter, and she was still beautiful when she wasn’t crushing men beneath her heels, but also she sometimes crushed men beneath her heels and it was really hot

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Ethel Waters:

"When Ethel Waters smiles, the world improves a little."

Linda Darnell:

LOOK AT THOSE EYES. She redefines sultry and dreamy.

ok i have a lot of feelings about linda darnell. she was so complex and messy and talented and just such a tragic figure and deserved so much better. her mom basically ignored the rest of her kids in favor of pushing linda into hollywood, which led to her missing out on a lot of childhood experiences, prevented her from enrolling in college, and caused some mental health issues later in life. it’s especially heartbreaking that she met such a preventable end so early in life, and i always wonder what might’ve happened if she had been able to make more movies. she also disliked the hollywood social scene, which i think is totally valid of her. anyway, i loved her in a letter to three women and unfaithfully yours, and especially in no way out, which i think is one of her better roles, really showcasing her acting ability. and the fact that she never really got recognition keeps me up at night,, in my heart she has all the oscars

[ticklygiggles]

Teacher and student, god and devotee | HuaLian [n$fw]

Happy birthday @ppystkposts!

A/N: Feliz aniversário minha linda garota ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Desejo o melhor sempre para você, obrigada por ser quem você é. Eu te adoro muito! Enviando abraços e beijos MWAH 🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ E espero que você tenha um dia muito bom e que eles te mimem muito ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Summary: Xie Lian has a very, very naughty student.

Words: 2k+

“Huh?! S-San Lang, did- did you write this yourself?!” 

Hua Cheng chuckled. ��Why, of course, gege. I think your teachings are finally working on this lowly one.” 

With a look of surprise, Xie Lian took the scroll and brought it closer to his face, discovering the perfect calligraphy that adorned the poem that Hua Cheng so hated to practice. It was even much better than Xie Lian's perfect handwriting. How was it possible that yesterday Hua Cheng's handwriting was a complete disgrace, but now it was probably a national treasure?! 

Xie Lian was such a good teacher?

“O-Oh.” Xie Lian lowered the scroll again and looked at Hua Cheng who was looking back at him, he smiled mischievously, his eye shining with a playful glint in the dim room, illuminated only by the soft light of a few candles. “I'm- I'm sorry, San Lang. I was just… surprised. You've been improving a lot lately, but this is…”

Way too much. Xie Lian narrowed his eyes, looking at the scroll and then at Hua Cheng. The scroll. Hua Cheng. The scroll. Hua Cheng- ah, there it was. 

Xie Lian's ever-watchful eyes quickly caught the way a corner of Hua Cheng's smile twitched, as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. Hua Cheng had almost fooled him, but there was no way Hua Cheng would learn to make such beautiful calligraphy overnight. This was definitely one of his tricks! Well, two could play this game. .

Xie Lian nodded, smiling sweetly. “Wow, San Lang. You've really learned quickly. I think you're a genius!” 

Hua Cheng let out a chuckle and lowered his head, hiding his eye. “It’s not like that, Your Highness. You are simply too good at teaching.” 

“No, no,” Xie Lian said, sitting beside Hua Cheng, looking excited as he picked up a paintbrush. “I think you're even better than me now, San Lang. Please show me how you did this, can you?" 

That surprised Hua Cheng and Xie Lian tried his best not to laugh at the horrified sight in his eyes. Hua Cheng blinked and then laughed awkwardly.

”How could I teach gege what he already knows?" 

“Oh come on, San Lang,” Xie Lian insisted, placing a brush in Hua Cheng’s hand. “Don’t be modest! One can never know too much!” 

It was really hard not to burst out laughing when seeing the panic in Hua Cheng's eye. If there was a heart inside his chest, it would surely be beating loud enough for Xie Lia to listen to it. It seemed like even his hand was shaking, but Xie Lian thought it was just an effect of the candle flames. 

“Well... I…”

“Yes? What's the first step, San Lang?” Xie Lian asked with a wide smile and Hua Cheng could only sigh, putting down the brush and looking at Xie Lian regretfully, with that face that he knew perfectly well Xie Lian could not resist. 

“Your highness, I… I lied… I actually used a little bit of magic, you see…,” he said, snapping his fingers and immediately filling another scroll with a poem written in beautiful calligraphy. 

Xie Lian gasped. Looking at the scroll with fake surprise on his expression. “I see… so you lied to me, San Lang.”

“G-Gege, don't take it so seriously, please. I was joking a little and- ah! Wait, I- ahahaha!” 

Hua Cheng's sudden laughter lit up the room, and Xie Lian felt enveloped in its warmth. 

“Took you long enough to admit your tricks, don't you think, San Lang?” 

Hua Cheng's laughter echoed through the room as Xie Lian launched at him, straddling his hips and tickling him under his arms. His elegant fingers wiggling and digging into the hidden spot, making Hua Cheng shriek with unrestrained and surprised laughter. Xie Lian couldn't help but giggle along with him, surprised that Hua Cheng still believed he couldn't see through his tricks… to be fair, he actually almost got him there, but he knew perfectly well that Hua Cheng’s calligraphy was a lost case, for sure. 

“Did- Dihihihid you k-know?!” Hua Cheng asked between laughs, squirming underneath Xie Lian and trying to push his hands away from his underarms. 

“Of course I did, and this gege is quite disappointed in you, San Lang. How could you lie to me? You'll have to suffer the consequences.” 

Hua Cheng shook his head. “A-Anything but thihihis, gege! S-Sahahan Lahahang will be good!” 

“Hmm… I'm not sure, I'm not sure. San Lang was very mean, wasn't he?”

Xie Lian giggled mischievously. His fingers kept tickling Hua Cheng's armpits, feeling the pressure of his arms trying to crush his hands, but achieving nothing. Xie Lian took the liberty of observing his husband as he laughed uncontrollably. It was rare to see him laugh like that, usually his lips were curved in mischievous and playful smiles, but now, his mouth widened into a beautiful open smile, showing his perfect teeth.

There was no beating heart in his chest, so there was no blood running up his face to make him blush, but Xie Lian thought he would have looked adorable. His eye was closed tightly and Xie Lian could almost see a tear glistening on his long, black eyelashes, but maybe it was a play of light again. 

A bubbling joy spread within Xie Lian, and as he laughed alongside Hua Cheng, he felt his cheeks redden and his heart swell with love. 

“Ahahah! Not there! Not there!” Hua Cheng begged as Xie Lian’s hands moved down to his hip bones. The Ghost King's hands desperately followed Xie Lian's, but he had no strength as he wrapped his fingers around Xie Lian's wrists, the contrast of temperatures feeling nice against Xie Lian's warm skin. 

His laughter was wonderful. Endless. Like an eternal whisper, a constant melody that seemed to have no end and Xie Lian loved it. He adored it; he could start a religion that worshiped Hua Cheng's laughter only. He just couldn't get enough of it, after all, Hua Cheng didn't need to breathe, so I could tickle him until the end of time and listen to his sweet laughter.

“This S-San Lang will behave!” He tried again, making Xie Lian laugh. “I prohohomise! I promise, Your Highness, plehehease!” 

“Is that so?” Xie Lian hummed in thought, his fingers stopping to let Hua Cheng rest a bit. His body collapsed and he took a deep breath as if he needed it. “How can I believe San Lang, hmm? He lied to me in my face,” he tried to sound stern, but his smile was too bright for that. 

“I- I'll work extra hahard, gege,” he said between giggles as Xie Lian's fingers tapped his hips. “This- This lowly one promises to never prank His Highness aga-a-hahahain! Plehehease! Please!”

“It's hard to believe you, San Lang,” Xie Lian said, his voice calm and collected as his fingers squeezed Hua Cheng's hips. “Especially when you're like this.” 

“Angh, gege!”

Hua Cheng's eye widened and Xie Lian smirked down at him, grinding against his arousal. He didn't know exactly when it happened, he actually thought not even Hua Cheng had noticed, but he was fully hard right now. 

“I think San Lang really likes it when I punish him, hmm?” 

“N-No, gege, I- ngh!” 

Xie Lian shuddered slightly when he felt Hua Cheng's big hands grasping his waist and squeezing him slightly to stop him from keep rubbing his ass against his cock. Xie Lian looked at him and he flushed at seeing Hua Cheng's face, his bow was furrowing and the playfulness of his eye was long gone, replaced by lust. 

Xie Lian and Hua Cheng looked into each other's eyes for a moment and the entire atmosphere in the room changed. The room was lit by soft candlelight, but it was darkening as the candles died down. The candles cast their dancing shadows and the laughter and little pleas faded into sounds of pleasure and ecstasy as Xie Lian moved more against Hua Cheng, making him grunt and gasp. 

“Y-Your Highness, I- 

“Shh,” Xie Lian covered Hua Cheng's mouth. “This teacher is about to teach this misbehaving student a lesson.” With a gentle flick of his wrist, Ruoye flew out from Xie Lian's wrists, straight to Hua Cheng's, pulling his arms up, high above his head. Hua Cheng let out a whine and his back arched slightly. 

“Gege, if we're going to do this, can we at least- ack!” 

Xie Lian slid further down Hua Cheng's legs, taking a seat on his thighs as he pulled down his pants and underwear in one go, freeing his erection. Xie Lian barely heard Hua Cheng calling him in a flustered gasp, he was too busy staring at the Ghost King's dick. Thick, hard, painfully red and even wet with precum at the tip. Xie Lian's cheeks felt on fire and his hand trembled as his heart raced within his chest.

He certainly had changed, in the past he would even be scared of seeing such a scene, but now… his mouth was watering and without thinking, he grabbed the base of Hua Cheng's cock and shoved it into his mouth. 

“F-Fuck, gege! Don't d-do that, I- ngh!” 

It seemed as if his throat was already molded to the shape of Hua Cheng's dick. At first, Xie Lian had trouble taking his huge cock, but now he could get it all the way into his throat with no problem. He didn't know whether to feel proud or terribly bewildered by this fact. But he could worry about that later, or the next day or in ten millennia, now he just focused on moving his head just the way Hua Cheng liked it, the tip of his cock touching his throat again and again.

“Y-Your Highness!” Hua Cheng's moans and small cries made Xie Lian's ears get hot. He looked up and Hua Cheng was staring back at him. Their eyes met and Xie Lian felt a delicious chill sneaking up his spine. “Y-Your Highness, ple- ah! Please!” 

The cock was pulsating in his throat. Hua Cheng was close, so Xie Lian took him out of his mouth. Hua Cheng arched his back with a loud whine, his hips thrusted, but he couldn't reach that peak that was slowly fading away. 

“Y-Your Highness! W-Why?” 

Xie Lian's lips curled in a mischievous smirk. “Oh? I did say I was going to teach my naughty student a lesson, didn't I? You weren't expecting a prize, right, San Lang?” 

Hua Cheng whimpered as Xie Lian lightly circled the tip of his dick, precum spurting out. 

“Pleah- please, gege. I swear I'll be good, I- ahahaha!” 

“Stay still,” Xie Lian told him as if his fingers weren't digging into Hua Cheng's hips, tickling him again. Hua Cheng laughed and moaned, arching his back and digging his heels into the carpet as he tried to do as he was told, Xie Lian chuckled and kissed Hua Cheng's glans. “If this student of mine can keep this hips still, I will let him cum.”

Hua Cheng shook his head, laughing nearly in hysterics. “N-No! I c-cahan’t, Your Highney! Please, s-stop tickling m-” 

“Will you disobey not only your teacher, but also your god?" 

The laughter didn't stop, but Hua Cheng's hips stayed as still as he could as he laughed wildly. Xie Lian felt something warm and fuzzy in his chest; he had never spoken to Hua Cheng like that before, but he couldn't lie, being in control felt... different... good. 

His light, elegant fingers kept tickling Hua Cheng as he took him into his mouth again. Hua Cheng moaned before falling into laughter one more time. 

“Ah! G-Gege! This l-lowly one is s-sohohorry! I've learned m-my lesson s-sohoho-” he made a small suction noise as he tried to push back the saliva that threatened to come out of his mouth. “S-Soho please- AHAHA!” 

Xie Lian chuckled softly with Hua Cheng's cock still in his mouth. He gave him a few squeezes to his hips and Hua Cheng couldn't help but jump at each one as he threw his head back in laughter; Xie Lian felt tears clinging to his lashes as he dug his fingers into the sensitive skin and pushed Hua Cheng's cock deeper into his throat.

“O-Oh! G-Gege, please, please don't stop! D-Dohohon’t stop, I'm g-gonna- agh!” 

Xie Lian almost choked on Hua Cheng's load, and he stopped the tickling. Some of his cum escaped from the corners of his mouth, but most of it was consumed. Xie Lian licked clean Hua Cheng's cock, feeling it tremble and twitch as he enjoyed the intensity of his climax. 

Xie Lian smiled and kissed the tip of Hua Cheng's dick before he moved back. He had barely cleaned the corner of his mouth when he felt Ruoye tightening back around his arms. In the blink of an eye, he had his back pressed against the carpeted floor and he was looking up at Hua Cheng; his red eye glinting.

“San Lang, what- ngh!” His words turned into a moan as Hua Cheng's huge hand cupped Xie Lian's erection. He covered his mouth and arched his back as tingles of pleasure rushed up his spine.

“This lowly student has learned his lesson, Your Highness,” he said, his voice was like a deep abyss, full of desire that seemed to caress Xie Lian's skin, making him shudder. “Please, let him correct his mistake and show his teacher that he will never disrespect him again.”.

While Hua Cheng's cold lips brushed a kiss against his warm neck, in that tender spot by his throat, Xie Lian felt his cold fingers under his clothes, like unruly butterflies that explored his sensitive skin. It tickled, but not enough to make him laugh, enough to make him let out sounds of pleasure.

Xie Lian smiled, his arms wrapping around his neck. “Hmm? I wonder what this student of mine has in mind.” 

Hua Cheng's lips curled up. “Leave everything to him, Your Highness~.”

To be in control felt amazing, but being worshiped by his best student and loyal devotee was even better. 

[canonicallyobserving911]

Unpopular opinion: I don't want Eddie sitting at home moping about his life in season 8.

Why? Because he deserves to have fun and live a little. He has a whole life the SHOW NEVER FOCUSES ON. Who knew he was playing poker at an underground LAFD poker game with a chief, a captain and others? NO ONE! (Until 6x13.) Who knew Eddie had a muscle car? I DIDN'T! (Until 7x4.) Of course, everyone who watched season 3 knows he participates in Muay Thai fighting because he was involved in that illegal fight club Lena introduced him to but that's not the point. It appears, Eddie has interests that the show NEVER focuses on until it's convenient... so, it would be nice if he has the chance to do them ON-SCREEN.

There are some who want Eddie to just sit home and mope about his life while his friend dates a trashy dude who knows Buck wasn’t trying to get his attention 🙄 but I digress.

Anyway, I don't want him to do that because he's already done it. He carried his entire family on his back starting at the age of 10 after his dad told him "To be the man of the house" and he has been ever since. He became a husband and a father right out of high school and he’s been working to provide for his own family. Since he blew up his life and the showrunner let his parents take Chris away from him, he should be able to go out and have fun with some of his friends like Linda, Chimney, Captain Mehta, Lena, Karen and maybe some of the people he served with in the Army. Or here's a thought... HOW ABOUT LET EDDIE TALK TO HIS SISTERS! HE HAS TWO BUT NOT ONCE HAVE WE AS THE AUDIENCE SEEN HIM TALK TO OR SPEND TIME WITH THEM. It's been 6 going on 7 years and Eddie has the largest family of every main on the show so could he please spend time with his abuela, his sisters and his cousins ON-SCREEN?

Listen... some want to see Eddie pine and be jealous of whack ass T*mmy but he’s been petty for years regarding the people Buck's ended up with which means it has been done several times before. (Hello season 5 with the first T.K. when Buck took her to Eddie’s for dinner in 5x11 and when she was in his house for his welcome home party in 4x14 🙄.) Therefore, IMO, it's time for Eddie to finally live for Eddie!

Please understand, I only ship Buddie but I think it will be good for him to find a hobby he enjoys and spend time with friends because it seems like he never had the chance to do any of that. Also, him getting spiritual guidance regarding his past from the priest is one thing but the majority of people don’t live at church so he should spend time figuring out what he likes and doesn't like. He said he's a nester so he can do that while staying busy. Maybe he can take a class or do something extreme that's legal. (No fight clubbing or anything that's going to put his life or his job in danger because some parts of the fandom already villainize him but they don't hold other mains to the same standard. He's been called angry once and that was a character assassination all on its own and it's NOT TRUE!) There are lots of things he can do other than sit home.

Just thoughts.

#FreeEddieAndLetHimLiveHisLife!

#EddieDeservesToBeHappy!