#live in a small beach town? check

[theharddeck]

turns out i am the type of hallmark FMC who's up for a massive promotion at work and is bummed bc she doesn't have someone to share it with, which sends her into a spiral of not being married yet 🙃 not what i wanted to find out about myself today

[willowsnook]

Done Waiting

Lando Norris x bsf!reader

She isn’t you

Hi, could I request a salami sandwich with tomato on wheat bread, please, and thank you. Request from @itsnotsophiasworld

—-------------------------------

MF: SOS, can anyone fly to Spain to check on Lando? From what I’ve gathered, he is staying in an Airbnb by himself and very much in his head. I’m caught up in some work stuff, or else I’d make the trip myself. 

Your heart sank reading Max's text to your friend group. Lando had been having a rough season and was constantly getting ripped apart in the media, no matter what he did. All you could do was make sure that he knew you were there for him and try to be around as much as possible, which was easy as you also lived in Monaco. But after the last race before summer break, none of you had heard from him. 

Looking at flights, you quickly replied to the group saying that you could go. One of the many perks of working remotely was that you could pick up your computer and go anywhere, so leaving to help Lando was a no-brainer. There was a flight leaving tonight, so you purchased that and started to pack. 

You wished the world could see him the way that you did. He was a caring, down-to-earth friend who would do anything for the people he loved. It was hard for anyone who knew him not to like him, and it was hard for you not to be in love with him. 

It hadn’t taken you long after meeting him to fall for his charm, but he had been dating someone else then, so you settled for friendship. That was three years ago, and you’d dated guys since, but the feelings still lingered. He could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world, so it was easy to get sucked in. 

Ultimately, you valued your friendship too much to ever act on it, even when you were both single. You’d been through too much together to risk losing him. You had a hunch that he felt the same way about you because of how overly affectionate he was with you compared to everyone else and that you were usually his first call. Still, his life was busy, and you understood that a girlfriend didn’t fit in that picture right now. 

Landing in Spain around 10, you grabbed your luggage before jumping in a cab to the address Max had sent you. The Airbnb was a cute little beach cottage right on the ocean, and you inhaled a deep breath of salty air and instantly felt better. 

The door to the house swung open, and you were greeted by what seemed to be a very irritated Lando. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Making sure you don’t do something crazy,” you replied, mirroring him with his arms. 

“I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care.” 

You stared at each other for a while, neither one giving in before he finally sighed and moved past you to grab your suitcase, grumbling to himself. The cottage had windows on the backside, allowing a constant view of the ocean, which you could appreciate. Lando put my luggage in the guest room before joining me as you looked at the water. 

“You didn’t have to come; I’m fine,” he muttered. You looked over at him with a sad smile, reaching your hand down to grab his. 

“I wanted to come.” He gave you a small smile, and you took in his exhausted state, noting just how bad it really was. 

“Why don’t we get some rest? Then you’ll be ready for a full day tomorrow,” you suggested, and he looked over at you. 

“I’m here to relax, y/n,” he said, and you smiled mischievously. 

“It will be relaxing, I promise.”

It was not relaxing. 

You dragged Lando out of bed at 7 a.m. to go on a run, and he was not happy with you, but you were just happy he came along. Jogging through the little town, you could tell that his mood was improving as he kept pace with you. 

Out of breath, you were hunched over as you two had climbed to the top of a dune. 

“Are you not relaxed?” Lando teased, and you gave him the finger. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” 

“Yeah, I need to log on when we get back to the place,” you wheezed, and he handed you his water bottle. “What are your plans for while I work?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, scroll through social media hate, maybe watch all my old races and critique everything I did; the possibilities are endless.” 

Shooting him a look, you sighed, “That would be funny if I didn’t know you’d already been doing that.” 

He looked down at his feet, and you moved over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. His head found your shoulder, he breathed deeply, and you held on tighter. 

“You’re going to be okay Lan,” you said, looking up at him. 

“I know,” he said sadly. 

Lando spent the rest of the day in the water while you worked, slipping away to get groceries for the night. He hadn’t had time to hide all the takeout bags and boxes he had been surviving on, so you figured a homecooked meal would do him well. 

Having dealt with him being a picky eater for a while, you were finishing up your favorite spaghetti and meatballs recipe when he came back into the house. 

“Smells great,” he commented and you smiled. “Can we eat outside?”

“You read my mind,” you replied, plating the food. 

Eating on the back deck, you felt a sense of serenity as the sound of waves crashing filled your ears. 

“This place is amazing; how did you find it?” You asked, turning to Lando. 

“Honestly, I just opened the app and picked the first place I saw that looked secluded,” he admitted. “I just wanted to be away from everyone.” 

“We are here for you to lean on Lan,” you said softly. “I’m never going to leave you.” 

“I know that, but I just don’t want to disappoint you,” he confessed, and your heart sank. 

“Lando Norris,” you said, forcing him to look at you. “There is nothing you could ever do to disappoint me. I am so insanely proud of everything you’ve accomplished. Please come back to Monaco with me tomorrow.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered, holding out his arms. You climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair. 

“You buy me so much shit so I have to be nice to you,” you joked and he giggled. He pulled his head back to look at you, and your breath hitched because of the lack of distance between the two of you. Shifting, you tried to move back but his grip on you tightened so you leaned down to bring your lips to his. As you were a millimeter away his phone started to ring and you rested your head briefly against his, groaning internally. 

Sliding off of him you handed him his phone as it was Max calling. Hearing him tell Max he was coming home the next day made you smile, and you gathered all the dishes to clean up. He joined you a little later, and neither of you brought up the almost kiss; you wrote it off as something that happened in the heat of the moment. 

—------------------------------

Zandvoort was a dream, and you were so glad you made the trip with your friends. The next race you were going to was Singapore and Lando had invited you, Max, and some others to hang out the week before in Portugal. 

Your friend group had rented a big house, and you were ready to soak in the sun and relax after taking the week off work. Pietra and you had flown in together and met up with everyone that night at dinner. 

“Hi, I’m Mary,” a girl you didn’t recognize said to you, holding out her hand. You smiled back warmly, introducing yourself. 

“Mary and I met at a shoot early this year,” Pietra explained, and you nodded. You chatted with her for a while over dinner, glad to have another girl on the trip. 

You were less happy the next day when you watched this girl throw herself at Lando every chance she got. Right now, you were watching as she asked Lando how to show her how to hit the ball off the tee at the golf course where you guys were. 

“Ya know I went golfing with her two weeks ago, and she had a perfect swing,” Pietra muttered and you grimaced, watching Lando wrap his arms around the girl to guide her swing. It seemed like she would find a way to touch him no matter where you went. Up against him at dinner, clinging to him in the pool, leaning on him while you were watching a movie. 

At this point your jealousy was flaring up and you were trying to keep your composure, especially because this girl had been nothing but nice to you. What made it worse was that Lando entertained it, accepting her advances right in front of you. Your mind replayed that almost kiss back in Spain and the way the two of you had gotten closer since that trip. It had seemed to you that something was changing in your relationship, but clearly not. The whole trip you felt like your heart was being ripped apart and you were starting to wonder if you needed to take a break from being around him until you could get over your crush. 

Two nights before you were supposed to leave the group ended up at a club downtown as a pre-celebration for what you predicted would be a Lando win in Singapore. Rounds and rounds of shots were taken and you were dancing with Pietra on the dance floor trying to have a good time. 

You briefly glanced back at the VIP section, and your stomach dropped. Mary was sitting on Lando’s lap, and you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Water instantly filled your eyes, and Pietra looked concerned before following your gaze. She looked at you with such sadness that you decided then and there that you were done. 

Leaving the club you walked back to the Airbnb alone. You weren’t sure if it was your drunkenness or just the emotional exhaustion of the situation but you started to get angry. Time after time, you were there for him and this is what you got back. It would be different if he had made it clear from the start that he wasn’t interested but he didn’t do that. He slept in your bed back in Monaco on nights like these, he spoiled you constantly with gifts, and you knew that he had told other drivers on the grid to back off from you, laying a claim. 

God, you were so fucking over it. 

You gathered all your stuff and threw it in your suitcase, calling for a cab to take you to the airport. You made it down the stairs just as Max was coming in. His face fell as he saw your bag. 

"No y/n don’t go,” he pleaded, and you shook your head, already feeling tears start to fill your eyes. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore Max,” you said, voice cracking. “I have to protect my heart.” 

“You know he loves you,” he said moving towards you to hold you. “Everyone knows that.” 

“If that’s true, why have I watched him with her this whole weekend? Why did I just watch him sit there when she stuck her tongue down his throat right in front of me,” you yelled and Max stayed silent. “Exactly. I need some space to figure out how things can move forward between us.” 

Max helped you carry your bag outside and the two of you stood silently waiting for the car. Just as it pulled up, Lando walked up to the house, alone. 

“Y/N!” He called out, not seeing your suitcase yet. “Where’d you run off too? I was looking for you.” 

You turned around and his eyes widened seeing your tear stained face, his gaze flickering down to your bag. 

“What’s going on?” He asked hoarsely and you just shook your head turning back to get into the car before you started to sob. 

“Let her go mate,” you heard Max tell him and you looked out the window to see him holding Lando back. The sight made you cry harder as the car finally drove off. 

Lando’s POV

Watching the car disappear down the street, Lando turned to Max, panic and confusion colliding in his mind.

“Why is she leaving, Max? What the hell happened?”

Max let out a sigh, his eyes searching Lando’s face with a mix of frustration and pity. “Mate, she’s in love with you. And honestly, you’re in love with her too, even if you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Lando froze, the weight of Max’s words hitting him harder than he expected. He thought of all the moments he spent with you—the late-night talks, the shared laughter, the comforting silence. He thought about how he’d let Mary get close, but each time she reached for him, a nagging feeling crept up inside him.

She isn’t you.

The thought was so painfully clear now. It didn’t matter how kind or fun Mary was—she wasn’t you. And suddenly, he realized why none of it felt right.

“I need to go,” Lando said suddenly. “I need to go to the airport.” 

He took off down to the main street hailing a cab but when he finally got there, you were gone. 

—--------------------------------------------

You skipped the Singapore GP. You didn’t even watch it on tv so you didn’t know why everyone was wondering why despite winning, Lando looked miserable standing on the podium. 

He had texted you a million times begging you to call him but you declined the call everytime. You were trying to move on. You’d started running again in the mornings, working out of coffee shops,  and hanging out with your girlfriends. Basically you were doing everything in your power to not think of him; and it worked until 10pm each night. Then you were miserable. 

It was two weeks after Singapore when you heard knocking at your door one evening. You weren’t expecting anyone so you were especially surprised to see Oscar standing on the other side of your door. Considering he didn’t live in Monaco, you didn’t really know what to say, just stared at him silently. 

“May I come in?” He asked politely and you nodded, stepping aside to let him through. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks,” you replied following him into the living room. “What are you doing here?”

He settled down on your couch, motioning for you to join him and you sunk down on the other side. 

“I need you to tell me what happened when you and Lando were in Portugal,” he said slowly and you immediately looked away. 

“It doesn’t matter,” you mumbled, playing with your hands. 

“It does matter,” Oscar insisted. “It’s okay if you finally rejected him but I need to know how to fix him.”

Your head snapped up, “I didn’t reject him Oscar. He basically rejected me.” 

“There’s no way,” Oscar said, shocked and you told him everything that had happened from you flying to Spain for him to him making out with that girl at the club. 

“Trust me when I say that I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings, but I feel like this is a big misunderstanding,” Oscar said and you rolled your eyes. “He is so in love with you y/n. All he does is talk about you.”

“Then why did he never tell me!” You said, voice rising. “I’ve been there the whole time Oscar, and he has never said anything. I want to be with someone who isn’t afraid to love me.” 

Oscar’s heart broke at your words, knowing you were feeling this way. 

“I came here y/n, because he is a mess without you,” he said. “I’ve never seen him like this and it’s starting to affect his racing so I’m begging you to at least think about talking to him.” 

—-------------------------------------

You would have thought that Lando would stop texting after a while but he didn’t. Every morning he texted you “good morning” and gave you updates on his day even though you weren’t responding. His plan seemed to be to slowly chip away at you until you were ready to come back and unfortunately it was working. 

Brazil was the next race that your friend group was attending and you went back and forth on what you should do before finally deciding to book a flight. Max must have told Lando because you immediately were notified that your flight had been upgraded and your hotel had been booked. 

Because of a work event, you weren’t going to be able to get there until Saturday night and probably wouldn’t see Lando until qualifying or after the race. You joined Max and Pietra on the track, bright and early on Sunday morning and you were wondering how Lando would survive with it being this early in the morning. 

Oscar gave you a big hug when he saw you and you could tell he was incredibly relieved that you were there. Qualifying was 20 minutes away and you heading towards the Paddock club when you turned a corner and were immediately wrapped up in two arms. Inhaling his familiar scent, you relaxed into his touch. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he said into your ear and you hummed in reply. You were still unsure about pretending like nothing ever happened. He pulled back to look at you and his excitement was contagious, pulling a small smile out of you. 

“We’ll talk later okay?” He asked and you nodded. “I have a lot of things I need to say to you.”

He kissed your forehead before running off and you tried to keep your cool. Qualifying was good for him and you were feeling good about the race but a little nervous about the weather conditions. 

Sitting with Max and Pietra in the paddock club the mood was very much anxious. Lando had been doing great until a red flag reset everything. He had fallen down because of pitting and you watched as he went off the track on that first turn, your heart sinking. The rest of the race was a blur and he finished in P6 which you knew would not go over well with him. 

After the race, you felt hesitant heading back to the McLaren hospitality area. You weren’t sure if he’d want to see you, especially in his disappointment. But as you lingered by the entrance, you caught sight of him. Lando was drenched, exhausted, and his usual radiant energy seemed dimmed. Still, he locked eyes with you, a faint smile managing to pull at the corner of his lips.

He walked over slowly, stopping right in front of you. “You waited for me?”

“Of course I did, Lando,” you replied softly, feeling the gravity of the moment settle in. “I always do.”

He nodded, then glanced around at the crowded area. “Can we go somewhere… quieter?”

You followed him through the paddock until you found yourselves outside in a secluded spot overlooking the track. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, Lando took a deep breath.

“I was an idiot,” he began, voice raw with honesty. “You don’t know how many times I replayed that trip to Portugal, thinking about what I could’ve done differently. I didn’t understand how much it would hurt you… I was blind to everything but my own mess.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he kept going, unable to hold back.

“You’ve been the best part of my life for years, and it took almost losing you to realize how much I’d taken you for granted. I’m sorry, y/n. I thought I was protecting you by not… admitting how I feel. I thought if I never said it out loud, maybe it’d hurt less. But I can’t pretend anymore. I love you.”

Hearing those words, the walls you’d built around yourself began to crack, the anger and disappointment from before softening as you looked into his eyes.

“I’ve loved you for so long,” you whispered and he gave you a soft smile. 

“I know, I’m sorry I didn’t see it before.” 

When he kissed you, it was tender and full of all the unspoken words and missed opportunities between you. As you pulled away, you both smiled, feeling the weight of the past couple of weeks finally lift.

[seventiesweetheart]

hiii~ how do you feel about writing something about ghostface x reader (either billy or danny) inspired by "sweet serial killer" or "queen of disaster" or thag line from cinnamon girl "if he's a serial killer then what's the worst that can happen to a girl who is already hurt?" IDK I JUST WANT LANA DEL REY FT GHOSTFACE 😭

𓆩♱𓆪 sweet serial killer.

ghostface! billy loomis x fem! reader

INSPO. happiness is a butterfly by lana del rey | “if he’s a serial killer then what’s the worst that can happen to a girl who’s already hurt?”

WARNING. mentions of gore and violence. yandere billy. ghostface breaking into her house. manipulative behavior. fluff! no smut in this one :>

A/N. so sorry anon, this came in so late >< but i hope you like it !!

for a whole week, y/n has done nothing but cry and mourn the loss of her best friend, casey becker. she’s avoided coming to school cause the poor girl couldn’t stand not being able to see her in the hallways. no, she couldn’t bear it, even after her friends have insisted on her being there.

billy and stu were so determined to keep her company, always showing up with new movie rentals and her favorite comfort foods. they hated seeing the poor girl so broken, even if one of them do believe casey deserve what she got for constantly stealing y/n's attention away from him.

but no matter what billy and stu did, it was never enough to fill the void. the horrific image of her best friend's intestines strung around the tree outside her house haunted y/n. who would honestly do such a sick and cruel thing?

y/n sobbed uncontrollably at the thought, her body trembling as she wrapped herself tighter in her (fav color) fleece blanket. she curled up on the couch, her knees drawn to her chest, feeling small and utterly alone. the dim glow of the tv cast flickering shadows on the walls, reflecting off the tear tracks on her cheeks, her eyes swollen and her nose red and runny.

it was already 1:00 a.m. on a saturday, and she remained wide awake in the dimly lit living room, staring blankly at the romcom billy had picked out for her. the lighthearted scenes on the screen felt like a mockery of her current state. but at least it kept her company.

her parents were out of town, too busy sailing away in some vacation beach while their daughter was drowning herself in her own misery. she would never admit it to her friends but it does get lonely isolating herself in her house. and it’s even more frightening to think that whoever killed her best friend still hasnt been caught. besides, who knows? she might be next—

suddenly, a loud ring pierced the quiet, making y/n jump slightly from her position.

who the hell would be calling at such an ungodly hour? the muffled noise from the tv only added to the eerie silence that she was now acutely aware of as the phone continued to ring incessantly.

with a slight pout, she realized the phone wasn’t going to answer itself. and so she mustered all her courage and stood from the couch. it was most likely just her parents checking in; they must be worried sick after hearing the news about the masked killer.

her soft knee-high socks touched the cold hardwood floor as she carefully padded toward the sound. realizing it was coming from the kitchen, she drew closer, the ringing growing louder with each step.

the kitchen was quieter and darker, the only light coming from the moon casting a glow through the window. with trembling hands, she reached out and picked up the phone situated on top of the counter, her pulse quickening at the unknown caller's silence on the other end.

"…hello?" her soft, timid voice asked as she waited for a response.

“hello, y/n.” the voice was low and gravelly, y/n fought hard not to end the call right then and there.

“w-who is this?”

“i’ll answer your question only if you answer mine first.”

y/n face twisted with confusion but she didn’t think too much about it. this is probably just a silly prank call, nothing serious.

“okay… what’s your question?”

the stranger paused a few seconds before finally asking, “what’s your favorite scary movie?”

“i-i’m not really a fan of scary movies.” was the only reply y/n could come with cause it’s true. she despised them. plus, if anything, the recent events had only intensified her aversion to them.

“that’s ashame, never even seen a single one?” the voice prodded.

“nuh uh,” the girl shook her head even if she knew that the stranger obviously couldn’t see her right now.

the voice chuckled softly, “cute.”

“i already answered your question, so answer mine.” she doesn’t know where the courage to say that came from but she immediately bit down on her lip in fear of sounding too confrontational.

“that’s right! and here’s your answer, sweetheart,” the call ends abruptly and all she’s left with is the beeping noise of the telephone.

furrowing her brows, she slowly puts the device back down onto the charging station, unsure of what to make of the conversation. but she decides to push it out of her mind as she backs slowly from the where the phone was.

but suddenly, a hand clamped tightly over her mouth, cutting off her gasp. her eyes widened in shock as she felt a sharp metal press threateningly against her throat.

“make a sound and i’ll gut you up just like your poor best friend.” the voice behind whispered menacingly.

y/n couldn’t stop the flood of tears from pouring as she felt the arm around her and the solid chest behind her guide her out of the kitchen. a warm breath brushed against the back of her ear and down the side of her exposed neck as she weakly tried to clutch onto the hand that was still holding the knife.

of course, billy wasn’t actually going to cut her up. he wouldn’t even place a single scar on the poor girl’s skin. he just needed to threaten her enough to make sure she complied with whatever he wanted. and right now what he wanted was to guide her back to where she was and keep her wrapped possessively in his arms.

“i’m going to let go of your mouth now, sweetheart. but you better not scream, understood?” he warned carefully.

he unwrapped his hand from her mouth, revealing her flushed cheeks and tear-streaked face. billy couldn’t help but pause to admire her vulnerable appearance as she weakly leaned against his chest, her angelic eyes brimming with tears and wetting her fluttery lashes.

her pouty, petal-soft lips looked so dangerously tempting. in that moment, billy felt a primal urge to claim them, to stain them with his blood soaked violence, a violence so diametrically opposed to her sweet innocence.

but he couldn’t bring himself to taint her with his darkness—not when she looked so fragile and dainty in his arms.

© 2024 seventiesweetheart | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[lionhanie]

moving to busan (kim leehan)

where you move to a new city and fall in love with a boy on the beach 

surfer!leehan x gn!reader (non-idol au)

this work is my contribution to @onedoornet 's summer event! ^_^ check it out here!!! ♡

word count: 5.5k

genre + warnings: fluff!!! maybe a tad of angst o_O, written in all lowercase!, mentions of depression + feelings of unbelonging (??), leehan is referred to by his real name (donghyun), ft. side characters taesan and woonhak

a/n: me when i had to watch surfing videos to write this LMAO sorry if its inaccurate…….. i can't even swim! LOLLLL. i def channeled some of my own feelings into this, so it was rlly fun to write. i'd even go as far to say this is my Most Favorite piece yet :,)

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🌳🌷🌿

you didn’t know what home felt like. which felt odd to say, given that you were extremely fortunate to grow up the way that you did– a roof above your head, food on the dinner table, and a family to share it with. the older you got, the more it felt like you needed to leave. there wasn’t anything inherently wrong with your life; sure, you had your fair share of rough patches here and there, but it was never anything too severe. despite that, you felt suffocated. it was hard to wake up in the same bed you’ve used for lord knows how long, going outside to walk the same paths you’ve walked on thousands of times, all to see the same faces everyday. this was all you knew.

moving to busan was something you never expected yourself to do. the decision was made more on a whim than anything else; immediately upon graduating, you decided to pack your bags and move to a new city, feeling like a stranger wandering alone in the foreign streets. there wasn’t much to pack, anyways. you were committed to truly leaving everything behind and starting fresh, bringing only one suitcase and a backpack for your essentials. 

you grew up in a smaller town, about five hours away from where you were now. there, you were used to the quaint homes belonging to the families you'd grown up with. the kind crossing guard by the middle school you used to attend still worked there years after you graduated, now bearing wrinkles by her eyes, but still possessing the same sweet smile she would always give you while helping you cross the street. everything you needed was a quick bike ride away. the area was quiet, comfortable, familiar. and yet, you left. 

you’d gotten to a point where you grew sick of the familiarity. to live life in one place forever scared you. it was best described as a fear of being stuck– like a stagnant body of water, peacefully undisturbed but painfully boring, to say the least. a fear of missing out on all the things you could be doing if you just lived somewhere else. anywhere more exciting than the town you knew like the back of your hand. you yearned for something else, something different. 

moving to busan meant doing things you never got the chance to do back at home. growing up, you quickly realized that being in a small town meant that you couldn’t do the same things that kids in bigger cities could do. all you had were necessities– a supermarket, doctor’s office, run-of-the-mill shops lining a dirt road in the core of the area. it was enough, sure, but you were hungry for more. on the other hand, busan was full of unique experiences waiting for you. some being as simple as trying new cuisines at restaurants you’d only dreamt of seeing in your hometown, or attending various local festivals held in the area for tourists and residents alike. 

it was crazy to think that life could be so different, even a few hours away from your childhood home. to most, giving up everything you once knew is a terrifying thought. to you, it was a wish you made to yourself when you blew out the candles on your birthday cake. you marveled at the way it’s been nearly two months since you first settled in and there’s still an endless list of things you’ve yet to try! it felt more like a dream, than anything. life has never been so bright– especially after years of feeling dull in a town you now dreaded returning to.  

moving to busan meant finally meeting new people. it was a breath of fresh air, really. the apartment complex you lived in was on the corner of a busy area, giving you access to a wide range of personalities each time you stepped out the building. you were lucky enough to get a part-time job at a newly opened cafe a couple blocks away, where you quickly became friends with your coworkers: taesan (who didn’t like coffee in the first place) and woonhak (who spent more time talking to the customers than actually making drinks).

you would’ve been content if those were the only two people you managed to befriend in the big city. they were full of life– a never ending source of laughter and stories from their respective hometowns, making your shifts go by significantly faster when you were scheduled together, much to your disappointment.

this is exactly what you had in mind the first time you thought about leaving. it was exhilarating. being someone completely new to the area meant that you could be whatever you wanted to be. there were no expectations from those around you; nobody knew who you were prior to moving. it was a freedom you feared you would never experience if you stayed back home– the smallest changes in your appearance would be the talk of the town, especially with the way history ran deep between the residents. in busan, it was a relief to be a stranger. 

moving to busan meant being by the water every chance you could get. you’re glad you moved right around the time spring started. the weather was perfect; just warm enough, not too hot. in your free time, you find yourself walking along the shore. it was only a short distance from your apartment, being only a fifteen-minute walk away from the sea. as a kid, you’d only visited it once. to you, the water was so terrifyingly beautiful. one would think they know what it has to offer on its surface, but the truths lie deeper than one could ever imagine. the very bottom of the sea could hold the most precious treasure in the world or the most dangerous creatures unbeknownst to man– the possibilities were endless. it’s a shame that you didn’t get to indulge in your interest more when you were younger, but you weren’t complaining now that the beach was practically in your backyard. 

sometimes you find yourself alone, sitting in the sand on an old blanket of yours. it’s normally right around dinner time, where most people have left the beach and the sun begins to fall from the sky. you could sit there for hours, listening to nothing but the waves crashing against the sand while you wait for the mix of colors from the sunset to paint the sky. you try to find a new place to relax every time you come to the water. much like how you felt about your hometown, it didn’t feel right to return to the same spot each time. 

on one of your routine visits to the beach, you met a boy, whose story felt oddly familiar to you. much like your own upbringing, he’s been in the same place his whole life. this is where your timelines falter– it’s clear he has zero intentions of leaving the city he grew up in. to him, this is the only definition of home he could imagine. you were almost jealous. you yearned to know what it meant to truly enjoy being in the same place for so long. maybe it was commitment issues, or maybe it was just a never-ending desire to know more– to experience everything life had to offer. for donghyun, he seemed just fine being here forever. 

the first time you saw him was by chance. today, you decided to go see the water after work. it was rare you worked the mid-shift, which coincidentally ended around the time you would normally find yourself sitting in the sand. “are you doing anything after work today, Y/N?” taesan asks, watching you take off your apron and fold it neatly before placing it into your bag. 

“i think i'll go to the beach today.” you smile at the thought, having quickly found comfort in the location.

“wow, i'm jealous,” woonhak pouts at you from behind the register. “can’t believe you’re leaving taesan and i to close all by ourselves today!” 

you playfully roll your eyes at the boy. “you should blame our boss, not me. if we’re all off one day, i promise we’ll all go together!” your coworkers wave goodbye to you as you walk out of the front entrance, happy to see that it was still somewhat bright outside. you normally left long after the sun had set, when most of the neighboring stores were closing as well. 

the walk there was always pleasant. you liked exploring different routes, seeking out all possible ways to get to the same destination. it’s hard to keep the excitement bubbling within you contained when the vast expanse of sand first comes into view. there were still groups of people scattered across the area, but because it wasn’t exactly “beach season” yet, it wasn’t too populated. you hadn’t brought your usual blanket with you; coming here was a spontaneous decision. instead, you decided to lay out your apron close enough to the water to smell the salty air but just out of reach of the waves rippling against the shoreline. 

you plant yourself onto your makeshift beach towel, the sand feeling soft below you, still warm from the sun’s touch. looking into the distance, you’re entranced by the movements of the sea. it was healing, the rhythmic push-and-pull of the waves leaving a white foam in its path, bubbling and full of life. the calls of seagulls from above you, soaring around peacefully.

you wish you knew what it could feel like to fly like that, to feel the air beneath your wings. complete freedom. a small figure comes into your view, pulling your gaze away from the birds. someone’s surfing? it’s a little cold to be doing that right now. even so, the boy didn’t seem to mind. standing on the surfboard, his face was filled with pure joy as he rode the water beneath him. the closer he got, you were able to hear his fun-filled cheers more clearly. complete freedom. 

he was awfully good at what he was doing, unphased even if the tide seemed to pick up a bit more than expected. right now, the stranger looked completely in tune with the water; as if they were one and the same. his movements were graceful, despite how difficult it must be to keep balance. 

the wave soon dies down, crashing against the sand as it always does. your eyes observe the way he laughs to no one but himself as he walks through the shallow parts of the water. drops of water fall from his hair as he shakes his head, board held securely beneath his arm. the wetsuit is tight against his skin; his figure is lean and toned, presumably from all the surfing he does. 

he’s not too far away from you now, catching his breath as he sits in the sand parallel to you. the surfboard sits idly against the sand as he looks out into the horizon, seeking his next adventure. it’s not long before he gets up and approaches the water once more, sensing a big one coming up. you didn’t know much about how this worked, having only seen it in movies or tv shows, never in-person like this. 

the man lays stomach-down onto his board, determined as he paddles deeper into the unknown. he’s dismissive of the smaller ripples against him, not nearly powerful enough to get a good ride. it’s impressive how he seems to control the water, rather than the other way around. it’s clear that he loves what he’s doing. you decide you love it too, completely mesmerized by the way he maneuvers through the tide. he disappears briefly as a larger wave washes over him, but he’s quick to rise above it, emerging on the other side and pushing further into the sea. you watch as the water begins to crest close to him. this is the one. 

if you weren’t paying enough attention, you would’ve missed the way the stranger effortlessly springs to his feet, knees bent slightly when he first mounts the board. he shuffles slightly, adjusting his stance for better balance. almost in tune with the water, he skillfully navigates the wave, letting the water bring him back to the shore once more.

the sun was behind him now, a beautiful arrangement of pinks and oranges flooding the sky, making the picture perfect. you almost couldn’t believe you had the pleasure of seeing it in real time, the whole scene looking like a frame out of a movie. there it was again, an expression of bliss as he enjoys the ride, arms stretched out in the air by his sides as the board is pushed back to the shore once more. even when he falls off the board as the momentum slows down, the grin on his face never dies. 

despite your attentiveness, you don’t comprehend the way the handsome man was heading your way, being led by the tide. much like before, he’s chuckling to himself as the high from the ride slowly dies down. his hand runs through his damp locks after wiping the salty water from his face. now, he’s walking directly towards you, eyes shaped like crescents with the way he was cheesing so hard. your heartbeat speeds up. you turn around, finding that there was no one else around. his smile is reserved for you. 

the board is held close to his body as he leaves the water, his footsteps leaving indents in the damp sand behind him as he settles a couple feet away from you. there’s a soft plop as he drops the surfboard on the ground, taking a seat next to it. 

“do you want to try?” his eyes flick over towards the water before they’re back on you. 

“huh?” you’re baffled at the way you were observing him from afar only a couple minutes prior, and now he’s striking up a conversation. 

“you’ve been watching me for a while, no?” he tilts his head, lips curling into a small smile. his accent is thick, more obvious than some of the others you’ve heard in your short time there. he must be from around here. 

“was i that obvious?” you joke, playing with a handful of sand by your feet. 

the stranger laughs in response. “there’s barely anyone else here right now, at least around this time of year. you think i wouldn’t feel a set of pretty eyes on me while i surfed?” your cheeks heat up at the comment, feeling a bit flustered at the sudden praise. he’s properly facing you now, hand outstretched in your direction. “nice to meet you, not-so-secret admirer. my name is kim donghyun.” 

his hand is still wet, drops of water touching your own as you reach out to shake it. “i’m L/N Y/N. it’s nice to meet you too, donghyun.” 

“is that an apron you’re sitting on?” he points out, moving to fiddle with one of its strings resting in the sand. 

“pfft, yeah. forgot to bring my blanket today.” you explain, laughing at your forgetfulness. “i just got off work.” 

“you come here often, then?” his hair was completely soaked still, droplets falling from it and landing beside him. 

“i guess you could say that. i only moved here a couple weeks ago.”

“you picked the perfect city. i love it here.” the sun was almost completely out of view now, having slowly disappeared into the horizon. it was beautiful out. you breathe in the salty air as you watch the stray clouds floating by. 

“yeah, i think so too. busan has been treating me well.” 

“god, i’m starving,” he gets up abruptly, brushing his hands together to remove the sand clinging to them. you expect him to pick up his board and walk off, turning him into nothing more than an oddly-sweet beach interaction. “i know a good gukbap place nearby. coming with?” he extends a hand out to you again, waiting for you to accept his invitation. why not? 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚☀️⛱️🌊

moving to busan meant enjoying summer for the first time in years. as a kid, you used to dread this time of year. most of your friends looked forward to school finally ending, but to you, this just meant you truly had nothing to do with your spare time. your days were spent walking down the worn down paths listening to music, or sitting in your backyard reading one of the many books in your collection. this was the closest thing you had to “escaping” from your reality. 

now, you had an entire city to explore. you were eager, but you wanted to take your time doing so. the last thing you would want is to get tired of busan, even if you arrived just a couple months ago. you didn’t see your excitement wearing down any time soon. 

“there’s my favorite barista!” donghyun’s smiling at you in front of the register, where you’d been standing for the past couple hours. once you told him you were working at one of the local cafes, he quickly became a regular (only when you were on schedule, of course). 

“you’re not getting anything today?” he shakes his head no, making you chuckle. he actually never bought anything when he was there, rather showing up just to talk to you in your free time. you tap a few buttons on the screen, starting your thirty minute break and walking out to the main floor of the shop, the surfer following closely behind.  

“do you want to go to the beach with me later?” donghyun rests his head against his hand as he looks at you from across the table. “i’m going surfing again.” it’s sweet the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about his beloved hobby. 

“wow, i would’ve never guessed!” you respond sarcastically, earning a giggle from him as he shrugs. “i’m closing today though. guess you won’t have an audience today.” 

he pouts back at you, sniffling as he wipes away non-existent tears. “who else am i going to show off to then?” ever since the day you met, you found yourself seeing donghyun more often than you initially expected. you thought that he’d just be a friend you’d find in the waters every so often. not that it was an issue, no– rather, you found yourself perking up every time he walked through the doors. it’s something woonhak quickly picked up on when working with you, often nudging you with his elbow suggestively every time donghyun showed up. 

“i’m off tomorrow, though.” you’re looking at your shifts on your phone. “if you’re free, maybe we can-”

“yes.” he answers immediately, catching you off guard.

“you’re not going to let me finish my sentences now?” you can’t hold back the grin on your face at how forward he was. “what if i asked you to go fishing in the middle of the night or something?”

“...i’d still say yes. that sounds fun, actually. we could totally do that if you want to!” every word that came out his mouth was so incredibly endearing, even if he wasn’t trying. 

…and that’s how you found yourself next to him at midnight, only a couple hours after you got off work, sitting in two fold-up beach chairs on the dock. “i’d question why you have all this fishing gear, but i should’ve expected as much from you, donghyun.” 

“hey, isn’t this nice though? there’s no one else here at this time.” he looks proud as he rests the fishing rod on the wooden guard rail, line casted in the water. “isn’t it kind of romantic?” 

your cheeks heat up at his implications. if it weren’t for the warm lantern placed between you two, he would’ve missed the blush on your face. “i was joking when i said we should do this, you know.” 

“oh, was it? i was serious, though.” you can tell he’s telling the truth with the way he looks at you with a serious gaze. 

“yeah, i know that now.” you didn’t mind being dragged around to his odd antics. weird, yeah, but you can’t deny the fact that you enjoyed every second of his company. he enjoyed yours as well. “i find it funny to think you find this to be romantic.”

“why wouldn’t i? you’re here with me, after all.” with that, you realize that you see donghyun as more than just a boy you met on the beach. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚🍁🎃🍂 

moving to busan meant having someone to walk with once the autumn leaves started coming in. it was always nice to see the trees begin to change color, but you always wondered what it would be like to see the transition on a bigger scale– and busan gave you the perfect chance to do just that. now that you finally got to experience the fall wonder somewhere new, you weren’t sure if you could ever go back to the life you once lived.

days like this were common, where you’d walk through the streets that donghyun grew up in. usually it was just you two, but today, he suggested you come with him as he walked his dog. naturally, you accept; it was hard to deny a cute boy with an equally cute dog in his arms. you hold onto the leash, smiling at the way koni would stop every couple minutes to sniff something on the ground. 

as you walk a bit further, you stumble across a large crowd of people surrounding various street vendors, curiosity piqued within you. “ah, is it already time for the jagalchi festival? how could i forget!” donghyun marvels at his poor memory, he hadn’t realized it’s already been seven months since you entered his life. time seemed to go by quicker with you by his side. 

“festival? this happens every year?” your steps slow down, koni gently tugging on the leash to keep walking towards the bustling area. 

“yeah, it’s basically like a huge fish market that runs for a couple days. tons of people come from around the country to see it, actually. the local fishermen show off all the catches from the season, so you know it’s the freshest you can get… and there’s performances too! you have to see it now that you’re a busan resident!” 

donghyun takes your hand in his, leading you towards the festival. banners were put up all over the area, welcoming in visitors from near and far into the heart of busan. colorful lanterns adorned the sides of each vendor’s stall, enveloping the area in a comfortable glow. there were people of all ages in attendance, smiling and laughing amongst each other as they explored everything the market had to offer– this was something you would’ve never experienced back at home. 

the two of you come to a stop at one of the less crowded sellers. its owner, a kind looking old man, was standing proud at the buckets of fish laid out on the ground in front of him. “should we raise a fish together?”

“donghyun, these fish are dead.” 

he rolls his eyes at you playfully. “duh, i know that. i mean like, going to the store and getting a new friend for my tank at home.” 

“wouldn’t that just mean you’re raising it on your own? i don’t have any space for a fish tank at my place.” you think back to your apartment, which now felt like a space you could truly call your own. you were proud to think that you finally felt like you were where you belonged, even if you’ve only been here for a short time. 

“that’s fine! what matters to me is that we bought it together! obviously i’d give you visiting rights to our child.” how could you reject him when his eyes light up at the mention of getting a pet with you? 

“woah, our child? we must be serious now.” your comment is nothing more than a joke, but he’s silent as he thinks about what he wants to say. he gives the hand he’s holding a slight squeeze. 

“can i be your boyfriend, Y/N?” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚❄️⛄🧣

moving to busan meant finding a new type of warmth amidst the cold winter. back at home, winters felt especially difficult. you were prone to the adverse effects of seasonal depression when this time of year came around. the days weren’t as long, sun setting much earlier than it did in the summer, leaving you with nothing but darkness. just getting out of bed felt like a hassle– there was nothing to look forward to in such a boring town. everything was just… so bland. you were in a constant state of irritation, the smallest things ticking you off and leaving you frustration for no specific reason. 

this winter, you found it hard to believe those old feelings haven’t come back yet. not when you had someone like donghyun at your side. if you found it hard to get out of bed, he’d be there to drag you out with him, humming to himself as you made breakfast together in your tiny kitchen. if you felt like crying, he’d be waiting next to you, box of tissues in hand as he wiped away your tears.

winter usually felt like being dragged deeper into the ocean, unable to swim– but now, donghyun was there to bring you back to the surface, safe and sound. each day spent with him felt like healing; as if nothing bad could ever happen to you knowing that there was someone who looked at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“do you ever miss your hometown, Y/N?” you were laying in your boyfriend’s arms in his childhood bedroom. his prized fish tank sat on his dresser, where the fish you bought together swam happily amongst its friends. there were photos of him as a kid framed on his walls– him at his middle school graduation smiling proudly between his parents, him holding koni as a puppy, him crying beside his older sister on the playground– each one giving you a glimpse of the life he lived before he met you. “i can’t imagine throwing everything away and leaving like you did.”

“well, it sounds bad when you say it like that. i don’t think i was happy there, though.” donghyun knew he wanted nothing more than to give you a home you felt comfortable going back to. a place where you could feel true happiness in. he’s mindlessly running his hands through your hair from behind you as he listens. “i can’t say i miss it just yet. maybe i’ll visit sometime soon, just not now.” 

“does that mean you’re happy here? in busan, i mean.”

“yeah, i’m happy,” you take a moment to reflect on the way your life completely changed upon leaving the town you once knew; how a stranger on the beach brought color into your colorless world. sunsets spent eating ice cream on a hot day at the beach, meals shared at his favorite local restaurants, and nights much like this one, being embraced by the man you love, as you talk until the sun rises. “i knew things would be better somewhere else, but i’d never imagine meeting someone like you so soon. you make me feel like i should look at things a little differently at home.” 

“if you ever decide to go back there, can i come with you?” he rests his head on your shoulder, cheek touching yours. 

“hm? i mean, if you want to. there’s not much to see there. i don’t think you’d have as much fun there as you do here.” you offer, thinking about how disappointed he’d be upon seeing that there truly was nothing to do there compared to busan. 

“i want to see it. i don’t care if you think it’s boring,” he’s sincere with his words, you can tell he means everything he’s saying when it comes to you. “we can rewrite all your bad memories together. it makes me sad to think you look back at the town you grew up in without fondness.” 

“it’s going to be at least a year until i want to see that place again,” you grab his hand, large fingers enveloping yours. “but i’d like that a lot, donghyun.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚💐💗🌸

and by the time spring rolls around once more, and it’s finally been one year since you moved to busan, you think you finally understand what it means to feel at home. you never got the chance to visit the temples last year, just barely missing cherry blossom season when you first unloaded your boxes in your empty apartment. from then, you promised yourself you’d save it for the best time of year, when the blossoms were in full bloom, baby pink petals on display and falling along with the occasional breeze. 

you’ve never known what it felt like to be loved wholeheartedly, but you’re certain this is it, as you walk hand in hand with donghyun through a path of cherry blossom trees. with him, you found that every day felt like a scene out of a drama. exiting through the temple’s entrance, you return back to the streets you were now familiar with. there’s a small creamery hidden between a restaurant and convenience store, and you find yourself sitting at a table outside, ice cream slowly melting in their cups in front of you. 

“i wish i was cooler when i asked to be your boyfriend. i think about that a lot,” donghyun plays with your fingers across the table before intertwining them with his own. “in all honesty, i was thinking about it for a long time before that day.”

“really?” this was news to you. you knew you had more than platonic feelings for donghyun that night at the dock, but you were surprised to hear he felt the same way as early as you did. it warmed your heart to think he fell in love as quickly as he did. 

“yeah. i wanted to do something cool, like surprising you at work with a big bouquet of flowers, or making you your favorite food and hiding a note in it. just anything more interesting than popping the question at a damn fish stall.”

you burst out laughing at the thought of finding a piece of paper in your meal. “it was perfect to me, though. i’m more shocked at the fact you saw me like that for so long, donghyun.” you feel shy suddenly, reminiscing on the way your heart would speed up everytime he walked into the cafe, or when he would walk you back to your apartment after spending the day in the water together.

“i knew you’d be someone important to me the day i noticed you watching me on the beach. i don’t know why, though. maybe it’s just because people don’t really bat an eye when they see me surfing.” 

“it was hard not to. i’ve never seen anyone so carefree. i guess i was just jealous of the fact that someone could look like that.” you can’t believe it’s already been a year since you first saw him on the beach. it was almost as if the sea brought the two of you together when the wave he was riding pushed him straight to you. 

“i think you look like that when you’re with me,” donghyun’s smiling at his realization. “when i’m with you, it feels like i’m riding a wave that never dies. i’d give up surfing if it meant i could have you by my side forever.” the confession shocks you, knowing how much he loved spending hours at the beach every day, chasing the high he got when he was on his surfboard. you wanted to cry; to think that someone would let go of something that meant the world to them just for you. donghyun thinks he could cry too– to think that he had found you, a person who changed his world in a matter of months, by a stroke of fate. 

to donghyun, you moving to busan meant making you a part of his definition of “home”. 

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[revrover]

The Stranger - Pt 1

Part Two | Part Three

Pairing: Namor x Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Language, blood, brief mentions of violence and alcohol

Summary: Upon discovering the unconscious body of a woman floating in the water, you rush to provide aid. Little do you know her people are searching for her, bringing a mysterious man to your door.

A/N: Still very new to writing fanfic (this is literally post number two), but couldn’t get this drabble out of my brain for a week so here it is. Please be kind! 

***I do not give permission to copy, plagiarize, or repost my work as your own in any form!

It’s close to dusk when you make your way from town back to your home on the secluded shoreline. With food and supplies in a bag slung over your shoulder, it will be another two or three days before you head back to restock. Although a fair distance, you have come to cherish the 5-mile trek into town. Walking along less traveled paths, visiting with the locals, and admiring the breathtaking nature around you have become some of your favorite things about living on the island. 

As the sun steals its last glimpse over the horizon, the vibrant orange and purple hues stretching across the sky begin to dim. The outline of a small bungalow comes into view about a hundred meters down the way. The warm glow of lanterns you hung before you left shines from the front porch, welcoming your return. 

You stumbled across this place two years ago, abandoned and needing major repair. Maybe it was just your nature to see the beauty and potential in broken things, but as soon as you laid eyes on the residence, your heart was set on it. Wrapped around the front is a porch with stairs that lead down onto a stone path, eventually making its way to the sand. Through the front door, an open entryway and a small kitchen are situated to the left accompanied by a simple sitting area. To the right is a doorway that leads to your bedroom and bathroom. It's a humble home, but you've worked hard to make it comfortable.

As you walk the familiar pathway toward the bungalow, you look out at the ocean. You watch as the water dances its way up the beach with every push and pull of the tide, waves gently lapping their way up onto the sand to make a melodic rhythm. You breathe in the salty air and revel in the beauty the island so generously offers. 

The moment of serenity is interrupted when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something just past the wave breaks. You squint as you try to focus your gaze to ensure the evening shadows aren't playing tricks on you. A shiver shoots down your spine. 

There's something floating in the water. Only, it's not something. It's someone.

"Oh my god," you say in disbelief, your eyes widening as you feel the air rush from your lungs. 

You react on pure instinct, immediately dropping your bag to the ground and sprinting into the water. Taking a deep breath, you plunge straight into the waves, pumping your arms and kicking your legs until they burn. You swim as hard as you can toward the body as it floats face down. 

When you reach it, you fear the worst. Quickly you turn it over to check for a pulse and discover it is a woman. Her frame is small, but she's solid and muscular. Body adorned with beautiful gold and jade trinkets, she appears to be wearing some sort of woven armor. You also notice her raven-black hair tied in a knot on top of her head, and a mesh-like apparatus covering her nose and mouth.

You carefully cradle the woman's head, lifting it out of the water.

"What the hell??" You mutter in shock. 

Right before your eyes, part of the woman’s face that is now exposed to the air turns a pale pigment of blue. She seems human enough, yet the way the blueness of her skin contrasts with its golden tones underneath the ocean surface makes you question what she might be instead.

All thoughts are pushed aside, however, the moment your attention is drawn to the sight of blood. Two gouges, a laceration across her shoulder, and a wound to her abdomen are seeping red into the salt water. She’s in poor condition and time is not on your side.

Doing your best to grapple her body, you kick your feet and pull the woman back to shore. The tide's added assistance gives you both the momentum needed to propel you toward the beach. As soon as you are able to stand, you turn and haul her body the rest of the way out of the ocean. 

Gently you lay her on a patch of dry sand as you take a moment to catch your breath. Your chest repeatedly rises and falls, your lungs straining for more oxygen. Staring at her now, you feel your heart nearly pounding out of your chest as the rest of her body turns the same shade of blue as her face. You shake your head as you fight back both your fear and curiosity. Whatever the woman's origins, tending to her wounds is your main priority. Help her now, and ask questions later.

Still unconscious, you reach up to remove the apparatus over her face, preparing to administer CPR. Suddenly, her arm shoots out and grasps your wrist, scaring the shit out of you. With unbelievable strength, she restrains any movement your hand could possibly make. Her eyes are wide and intense, pupils dilated.

"Okay, okay, I won't mess with it!" You promise. Her grip slackens as her eyes roll to the back of her head, losing consciousness again.

You rub your wrist, the bruise already forming. Deciding it would be best to move her from behind, you link yourself under her arms and pull her towards your home, unwittingly leaving a trail of sand and blood behind you. 

Making it to the bungalow, you manage to get the woman inside and onto your kitchen table. She's breathing, but it's shallow. Quickly, you grab all the first aid and sewing supplies you can scrounge out of the cabinets. You swipe a bottle of tequila from the shelf above the sink for good measure. Then you get to work to patch her up the best you can.

You clean the wound on her abdomen first, as that's where the bleeding is most prominent. Disinfecting it, applying pressure, then sewing it up, you focus meticulously on the needle in your hand, threading it back and forth through her skin. Once you finish, you fashion a bandage to soak up the excess blood.

The sky is dark as you move on to her shoulder to do the same. It feels like hours have gone by as you continue dressing the woman's wounds. It’s well into the night now, and the only light reflecting off the ocean for miles is from the moon and the lanterns of your home.

That's when he finds you.

A dark figure emerges from the water. He surveys the scene in front of him, eyes filling with rage as his focus dials in on the bloody trail leading up to your door. Spear in hand and body seething with anger, he marches towards your little house. 

Just as you clip the thread used to sew up the woman's shoulder and begin to apply another bandage, you're startled by a deafening CRASH!

Behind you, your front door gets obliterated. Through it, storms a man who quickly steps over the wooden debris that now litters the floor. His presence swallows the room as water drips off of his body. His eyes lock on to yours. 

"Holy shit!" You exclaim in terror. Before you know what is happening, he has made his way over to you, aggressively backing you up against the kitchen cabinets. 

Face-to-face with you now, he holds the tip of his spear to your throat, grazing your skin with it threateningly. He leans in so close you smell the salty ocean spray that covers his dark skin and can practically see your reflection in the cold piece of jade pierced through his septum. His breath is steady, but his glare is wild and ferocious. You raise your hands, attempting to show you mean no harm, only you don't account for the fact that your arms are covered in the woman's blood. His look becomes more menacing. 

"What have you done?" He growls, his voice low and dangerous. A fire is burning in his eyes as they widen with rage. 

"I'm helping her! I'm helping her!" is all you manage to say as you plead your case to the mysterious, hostile stranger. 

His stare remains intense as you feel the growing pressure of the cold metal spear against your throat. Everything inside you is screaming, telling you to close your eyes and that one way or another it will all be over soon. But you don't - you hold your ground and hold his gaze, searching his face for any shred of hope that he will spare your life.

The man's eyes flick over to the woman on the table, taking in more of the scene. As his head turns, you notice his pointed ears and beautifully hand-carved gauges made of jade. He turns his head slowly back to you, looking at you this time as if deliberating in his mind whether or not you are telling the truth. 

Again he leans in close, and you hold your breath as you await his final verdict. 

"You will speak of this to no one." It's not a question. It's a command.

You nod, willing to agree to anything at this point if it means not having your jugular sliced open.

"You will forget this night, and what you have seen."

Again you nod.

He keeps the spear pointed at your throat while carefully backing away toward the table. Your heart is pounding out of your chest as adrenaline pumps through your veins. You don't dare move a muscle.

The man retreats, withdrawing his spear and scooping up the woman who looks so petite in his arms. He carries her through the doorway but stops to look back at you. He says nothing, but his eyes are deadlocked on yours. You can’t describe or decipher the electric sensation that runs through your body at that moment, so you chalk it up to being in shock. 

Finally, he turns to leave, seemingly floating down to the shoreline with the woman securely in his arms. You watch as they disappear into the ocean and the night. 

Left alone, surrounded only by silence, the stinging memory of a blade against your neck, and a buzzing in your chest, you look around the empty kitchen. Blood and first aid supplies cover your table; debris that was once your front door now lays scattered across the floor, a draft gliding its way through your home. 

Your mind is still processing everything that has happened. Physically and emotionally, you are exhausted. 

"Screw it," you say out loud, grabbing the tequila still on the table and taking a swig straight from the bottle. "I'm going to bed."

--

You wake up the next morning as the sun is starting to rise and feel just as exhausted as when you had fallen asleep. Your mind is hazy. Your body is sore. You get up and pull on a fresh shirt and some shorts before making your way out of your bedroom. Groggily you shuffle through the entryway and into the kitchen to greet last night's mess. 

Only a few steps into the kitchen, however, you stop. Blinking a few times, you rub your eyes. On the table, where bloodied gauze, cloths, sewing needles, and the works had been scattered, now sits your bag next to a neat pile of the food and supplies you had gathered from yesterday's trip into town. You look down at your feet to discover a clean, debris-less floor. Moving in reverse, you pace a few steps back into the entryway and turn your head. Stunned, you see a new, beautifully carved wooden door in place of where your old one had been kicked down the night before.

You pinch your temples as you try to convince yourself you're not losing your mind. You move closer to inspect the door. Eyes full of wonder and amazement, you run your fingers down its wooden grooves. The surface is smooth as stone, yet the grain in it gives the material a richness that makes your jaw drop as you admire it. 

Before you can even ask yourself how it was possible, you open the door and your breath catches in your throat. The man from last night is sitting there on your front porch, legs hanging off the edge of it, looking out at the softly illuminated horizon. 

"I apologize about the door." He says, still facing the ocean. 

Fear takes over as you find yourself frozen in his presence. He senses your uneasiness and, still seated on the edge of the porch, turns toward you. He raises one hand to the air as a sign of his peaceful intention.

"I promise I am not here to bring harm to you... or your home," he adds, his eyes trailing toward the doorway. You say nothing, equally stunned and confused by his being there. 

"I am sorry for threatening you," he says, his voice turning somber. "I didn't know what you were doing to her."

"Is she okay?" You ask, finally finding your voice. "Your wife?"

He lets out a sharp chuckle. 

"Namora isn't my wife, she's one of my generals -- my best, in fact. And yes, she is okay, thanks to you."

A general. You avert your gaze, feeling foolish for assuming incorrectly. Suddenly the events of last night take on a different tone than what you had perceived.

"We had been searching for her for two days." The man continues to explain, "When I finally traced her whereabouts here and found her with you, I assumed the worst." He looks back out toward the ocean. "History has not typically been kind to my people in these types of situations."

You feel your chest tighten as the weight of his words sinks in. Your eyes wander from the ground up to the stranger. You watch as beads of salt water forge paths on his skin, rolling from his dark slick hair down the toned muscles of his back. 

"Who... are your people, exactly? Who are you?" You find the courage to ask.

He turns back to look at you, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he considers his answers.

"There are some who know me as K’uk’ulkan." He says thoughtfully. "But most know me as Namor." Pushing himself up to a stand, he continues, "As for my people, that is a discussion for another time." 

Namor walks up to you, and once again you find yourself face-to-face with him. Only this time his presence is not menacing, it's hypnotizing. 

"Thank you," he says softly, "for what you did. It will not be forgotten." 

There's a rich sincerity in his voice. Mesmerized by it, all you can muster in response is a nod of your head. A slight smile pulls at the corners of Namor's mouth as he closely studies your face. The light of the morning sun reflects in his eyes, and where you had only seen brooding darkness before, you now see shimmering flecks of gold. Everything about him is beautiful. 

"You are not what I expected." He says warmly, leaning in closer as if the two of you are sharing a secret. He lingers there a moment longer. Then, all too soon, he nods and turns to head down the stairs of your front porch. As he reaches the end of the stone walkway, he stops before stepping out onto the sand. 

"Remember," he says, repeating his instructions from your encounter last night, only gentler. "Speak of this to no one."  

"Will you be back?" You ask earnestly. You don't know what prompts your question, other than the thought of his departure suddenly pulling at your soul in a way you can't explain.

He turns back to look at you and smiles. You return it with a smile of your own. No words are needed for you to know that somehow, someday, you would see him again.

You watch from the porch as Namor strides out into the water and disappears below the surface. The sun glimmers brilliantly across the waves as they engulf him in their deep abyss. 

[prentissluvr]

literary parallels — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : light angst, fluff ➖⟢ cw : small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn't matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that's exactly where you find him. i plan on doing a part two for this one in the future! :))

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin. 

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford. 

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him. 

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.” 

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again. 

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high. 

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already. 

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.

[deviousdevilx]

Because while we are given the “facts” that Wilson has only 5 months to live as anyone knows cancer can be weird and people can outlive their given life expectancy. Yeah yeah I know he’s not receiving treatment however we have seen examples of people miraculously recovering from cancer with no explanation. Well if anyone deserved that it’s Wilson

So my AU. As five months approach Wilson still feels fine and is just grateful to be alive and feeling as good as he is. Sure he’s sore some days, exhausted others but he chalks it up to the varying quality of motel mattresses and being on the road, and slowing dying.

At night House has gotten into a habit of crawling into Wilson’s bed late when he thinks the other is asleep. Wilson believes his friend is worried he’ll pass away in his sleep one of these nights, so he just lets it slide, and even enjoys the comfort of having someone next to him in bed. They never talk about though. Even as it progresses into House snuggling up against Wilson and vice versa. The next morning they pretend it never happened.

It’s now been five months and besides aches and pains, the occasional headache often due to House shenanigans, Wilson is still feeling okay.

Then one day House mentions it’s been longer than five months. He’s been watching Wilson like a hawk, being overly tender and attentive. They may only have days left together now. Every night could be Wilson’s last.

Five months turn into six. They travel, swim in cold lakes, walk along beaches and sand dunes. Crashing in cheap hotels. Drinking, playing card games, and cracking jokes.

Six months turn into seven, Wilson still feeling fairly good given the circumstances decides maybe he should visit a hospital and get checked. Just maybe something has changed. House doesn’t want him to, he’s hesitant, worried if Wilson does it means the end will come, and it was just delayed. A small mercy from the uncaring universe.

Eventually after cajoling House, Wilson visits the local hospital in the state they are currently passing through. The results will take days he is told. That night their relationship takes a turn from their night cuddling into something more intimate. Again the next morning they don’t mention it. After a few agonizing days waiting Wilson returns to the hospital.

House waits and waits. Fidgeting with his cane, scowling at people who stare before Wilson returns. He can’t read Wilson’s expression until Wilson beckons House. As House stands Wilson throws himself at his friend sobbing “it’s gone!”

House “what do you mean it’s gone?”

“The tumour, everything, I don’t have cancer!”

House nearly collapses, no fucking way did he hear that right.

“It’s gone?”

Wilson tearfully nods and smiles.

I like to imagine they move into a smallish town where Wilson works as a doctor and House is his house husband who takes up cooking and gardening… and helping him consult on Wilson’s patients 😭

[guiltysungho]

— Daybreak

genre : tags. fluff, summer romance, small town romance, angst (?), found family (?)

pairing. barista!sungho x fem!reader (she/her used)

wordcount. 3714

a/n. submission for the onedoornet summer event. i love writing stories set in the summer tbh most of my stuff is set in summer lol. this is heavily inspired by summerstrike, favorite k drama !! ty to @ddingdongz + @loserlvrss for helping beta reading this.

@onedoornet

Picture this. An empty room, your empty room, with you in the middle of it taking in the nothingness of it all. You tried to see it a different way, but that was all it was, an empty room that would probably stay that way unless you chose to fill up the space. A thought that often crossed your mind but never got any further.

The summertime somehow made it worse for you, with no plans you were forced to stay 24 hours in that void. The hours you would have usually spent in the office performing remote tasks with radio noise thoughts, you now have to spend in complete consciousness. You would try to distract yourself, but it was always the same thing every day, the same dreams wasting away.

This was the only life you knew; you had a job and place to stay, you had to find contentment in what you had, but it was harder than that. Maybe you had to seek out new perspectives to understand how to live again.

Run away and leave it all behind, the first step would always be the hardest but once it was done, it would be up to you. Small drops make a mighty ocean, right?

One day was all you needed, you would take the first bus in the morning to wherever it leads you and then… you would just try to live for once. Forget that your room is empty and that your dreams aren’t as easy to achieve so you could have a clear mind for the future.

No matter how much you planned, you would never know what exactly you would meet there so you kept the planning minimal, trusting fate to make the day memorable.

At 4 am, you were ready at the bus stop waiting with three other people in complete silence, half asleep as you stood there. The bus arrived soon enough, and you let yourself doze off by the tinted windows, counting the cars passing by.

8 am and you were finally there, you weren’t entirely sure where “there” was, but you were somewhere else and that felt like an achievement in itself. The sky was already well lit up, clear and blue. Everything seemed so new, so different even the sky looked a different shade of blue. The seagulls cried loudly echoing back and forth as you walked along the roadside, the ocean filled the horizon swaying along with the wind, crashing against the sandy beach.

You made up your mind to stay on the beach for a while, long enough for hunger to settle in, and you would figure out your next stop from there. You had been used to seeing crowded beaches so much in your life that you had forgotten how beautiful the ocean was, how calming the beach could be. The fresh smell of sea-life, calm breeze rushing through your hair as you sat there on the sand watching the push and pull.

You thought of taking a commemorative photo, but you had the funny idea to “forget” your phone this morning. You had this useless attachment to it, even when you were doing nothing productive on it. So, you figured it wouldn’t be necessary, and maybe you were right, but you wanted to keep this image safe from the inaccuracy of memories.

It was just as you dreamt it, the quiet, the peace, you could sit there for ages, let the sand envelop you and become a timeless myth, an artifact forever tied to the spot, but you had other plans.

Checking the watch around your wrist, you read the time, 9:43 am. A good time for breakfast. The problem now was finding where to eat breakfast, but you needed to not know so you could want to find out. So, you walked around, letting your feet lead you wherever, through all sorts of streets looking around for any kind of food.

It felt like a long search, but you had walked for less than 30 minutes before you found a nice cafe, deeper into the town, further from the beach but it held the essence of the ocean, encapsulated in all sorts of trinkets decorating the space.

A chiming ring echoed across the room as you stepped in, not a single person in sight for the first few minutes. It seemed empty despite the sign on the door that read “open”, so decided to move on. Almost like he heard your footsteps, ready to walk out the door, a tall young man came out from the back, tying his hair together and out of his face as he smiled at you.

“Welcome, please make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right with you.” You took a couple steps closer, completely hypnotized by the young man’s beauty, taking a seat right by the counter.

He somehow looked the part, exactly how one would imagine a barista in a small town in the middle of nowhere, precisely out of a daydream.

He handed you a menu before retreating back to the kitchen in the back. You scanned through meticulously, picking enough food to keep you filled for the rest of the day.

He came back out to meet you, this time with a name tag on, Sungho you thought as he asked you for your order.

“Long trip?” He smiled at the small list you had picked out from the menu, you nodded in response with a thin smile trying to ignore the urge you felt to stare at him. 

“It might take a few, I’m the only one in today.” you let him know you were in no rush, and just like that he left the room with a thumbs up and a smile.

It was a shorter wait than you’d expected considering it was just him in the kitchen. He’d started bringing over side dishes for you 10 minutes in, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he placed the plates in front of you. A few strands fell out of the grip of the hair tie falling perfectly on his face, he sighed, shaking the hair at his face before looking at you. 

He thought about it for a second, leaning in as he spoke, “Sorry to ask this but could you push this strand behind my ear?” you stared at him wide eyed, blinking at his face right in front of yours.

You reach for the hair hesitantly, carefully pushing it behind his ear. He flashed a thankful grin, backing up completely and out of the room.

After nearly an hour you got your full meal, your first meal of the day, and probably your last, so you ate it like it was. Big portions, cheeks filled, satisfied groans. Completely forgetting the other presence in the room.

He was looking at you, watching you purse your lips as you chewed on the food, the moment you looked up you were met with his stare, your eyes widened from the sudden eye contact.

“Sorry,” he chuckles nervously looking away from you, “…Are you here on vacation?”

“Oh yeah, I’m just here for the day.” you answer finishing the last crumbs off your dish. 

“What are you hoping to find here?” He asks curiously with an amused expression. The question sets you off into a whole explanation on your boring life and your strong will to see new things. You aren’t sure you will find what you were looking for here but that’s somehow part of the journey.

“…I guess I just want to see the world now, instead of locking myself inside.” you let out a light laugh, as if to lighten the mood after your slight rant.

“That’s really cool. I think you’ll like it here.”

“Really?” you beam, he lets out a light chuckle as he nods grabbing your empty plates to clear the space.

“Honestly. I could show you around a bit if you want.” he disappears into the kitchen as he suggests it. You sit  there with a smile on your face waiting for him to enter the room again to accept his proposition. 

“I’d love that, I didn’t really have a plan so you’d be helping me out a lot.” 

“Perfect. I’ll just clear up this place and close up for the day.” you mouth a quiet oh, surprised he would close the whole shop to help you. He notices and smiles reassuring you, “Don’t worry it’s usually empty on Saturdays.”

After a short wait he steps out with a light linen summer shirt, his hair is untied, shaping his face perfectly. When you thought he couldn’t get more attractive he just embodies the idea of a summer crush. He gives you a gentle smile gesturing for you to follow him out the back door, you watch him lock the doors waiting closely behind.

This was one of those things you would have never done a month ago and standing there you realize how absurd the idea of following a man around in a place he knew so well while you knew nothing about was, but for some reason you felt you had nothing to lose in the moment. Maybe it’s ‘cause he’s incredibly attractive.

He introduces you to his bicycle, letting you know that that was his means of transport and so it would be yours. Biking seemed more appealing to you, it had been a while since you had been on a bike so when you hold onto him as he rides by the beach it feels like a lost memory that you had forgotten in the midst of all your working. You listen to the seagulls cry, feel the nice summer breeze on your face as the hot sun taps on your skin reflecting yellow beams onto the canvas.

Even his presence feels like a strongly cemented part of the memory, like he made it whole, you could feel him so close under the thin fabric of his shirt and it made you realize that the touch of a human was something you had been missing for the longest time.

“It’s really nice here.” You hum, resting the side of your face on his back.

“Yeah it feels like home.” He says with a smile looking over his shoulder to look at you. 

“Isn’t it home for you?” He nods as he turns back to the road, turning into streets, waving to the townspeople, before answering you. 

“I guess you’re right..” he let out a light chuckle, his bright smile lingering as he continues, “I actually moved here when I turned 18, I just needed to get away and I found myself here.” 

“Wow, that's such a bold move.”

“Yeah it was so out of character for me but I needed to and it was probably the best decision I’ve made.” he slows down his peddling gradually before stopping in front of a big house. You had been riding uphill for a while and now you could see why. 

The whole ocean right beneath you, you could see everything so clearly and it was so beautiful. You could feel your eyes glistening as you looked at the landscape with so much marvel. A sudden realization that life isn’t supposed to be dull, it’s meant to be filled with beauty and splendor. 

“This is so…” you look around searching for a greater word to describe all that you are feeling but nothing comes close. 

You only realize you are still on the bike once he gets up, taking your hand to help you off as well. He looks at you pleased, that you enjoy the sight as much as he did when he’d been here for the first time. 

“Come, let me show you something.” You follow behind him eagerly, watching him ring the doorbell to the only house that stood on the hill.  

The door opens soon enough and there stands an old lady with the kindest smile and soft rosy cheeks. You watch him give her a hug as he greets her, letting her place a kiss on his head.  

“And this is your girlfriend.” Before either of you is able to deny the claims, she gives you a warm hug. Such a loving hug you don’t want it to end, the type of hug you needed daily. 

“Such a lovely girl, what’s your name darling?” You give her a polite smile as you answer, letting her soft hands hold onto your for a little longer. 

You glance up to find Sungho staring at the both of you with a soft smile, your eyes meet and he gives you an apologetic pout. 

“Mamie,” she turns over to him still holding your hands, “I wanted to ask you a favor.” She rushes over to him. 

He leans towards her and whispers a few words to her, making your curiosity grow, her smile grows as she listens to his request and as soon as he’s done she goes back into her house, leaving you there clueless. 

You turn over to him, narrowing your eyes with curiosity, he flashes a smile before turning away, waiting for her to reappear. 

“Here you go darling.” She walks up to you and hands you an ethereal conch shell. You had never seen one before but you never knew they could be so pretty. You stare at it for a couple seconds completely in awe, before looking up to her with a grateful smile. 

She stretches her arms out once again for you, hugging her tightly as you thank her. “Sungho could use the company. He doesn’t like mentioning it but I know. So if you’re ever thinking of coming back, don’t hesitate, just come, okay?” 

After saying your goodbyes, you get back on the bike, riding downhill back into town. Her words stay stuck on your mind as you ride through the small streets, a reminder that you would be leaving after today and you would have to accept that. Every part of you wanted to stay.  

“Was she a relative of yours?” you ask looking over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around his waist and he peddles. 

“Not biologically. When I first got here I was stranded but she took me in, and I stayed there on the hill for a while.” He explains as you arrive on a market street, a small crowd walking through the street, “This is where the fun happens, trust me.” 

He parks his bike in a hidden spot, helping you off and ready to guide you through the small market. You glance up at him amused by the liveliness in the street, such a crowd in such a seemingly empty town. 

A light tap on the back of your head makes you look down at your hand, you look up at him curiously. He takes your hand in his as you stare into his eyes with a puzzled look, pulling you closer, and leaning to your ear. 

“It can get a bit rough so just stay close, okay?” You nod at him, letting him guide you through the small crowd. 

As you walk together, he tells you about each stand and how the market works, how it changes depending on the month and the regular stands that people line up for. It could have been the least interesting topic but for some reason you were fascinated by the community, the dedication of each person to hold a stand as early as 7 in the morning. 

“Do you hold a stand for your coffee shop sometimes?” He smiles at the question, nodding in response. 

“Sometimes, but it’s mostly for festivals or big events. The market is more for the necessities and street foods.” Just as he mentioned it a savory smell hit your nose, you turn to the stand beside you watching the lady behind it cook the snack with extreme focus.  

He notices you staring and stops in front of the spot, to let you taste the speciality. The lady looks up from her workspace and her expression brightens as she sees Sungho, and even more when she notices you. 

“Sungho! Is this your girlfriend?” He shakes his head letting out an awkward laugh. “What are you waiting for?”

“She’s not from here.” She frowns for a second before glancing at you. 

“Do you like the town?” She asks you, hands still working on the food making. You nod, answering her with a polite smile. 

“She likes it here. You’re stalling.” 

“How am I—“ 

“Here’s a snack young lady, take care of the boy for us, okay?” You laugh softly as you accept the treat, he reaches out for his wallet and the lady smacks his hand. “Keep it and start saving up for the ring.” She laughs a mocking laugh before going back to her work, leaving the both of you stunned.  

Walking away neither of you speaks for a bit, just snickering as you walk side by side, “I’m sorry about that.” He says with a smile, you shake your head completely dismissing it, giggling as you did. 

You walk around a bit more, eating your snacks together and looking at the different stands. Watching the owners show off their craft, getting interrogated by the townsfolk on your relationship. You enjoy every moment with him, even just walking in complete silence feels right and you just met him. 

All your life you had been looking for this, you dreamt of being close to someone beyond the materialistic standards, of being with someone you could just be with and right now that was all you could feel. You hadn’t come to this place to find someone to help you out of your misery but you found someone and it was nice. 

But it only makes you dread the moment when his comforting presence wouldn’t be so close. He stops by one of the stalls, and you follow. A jewelry stand, handmade crafts with sea life trinkets, pearls, shells, squid ink, it is all so unique. You watch him look at the pieces, scanning through the selection before landing his eyes on one. 

He takes it from the display, a teardrop shaped pendant with sea water inside, dangling off a silver chain. He glances at you and then at the necklace, before asking to pay for it. After that he keeps it to himself, fidgeting with the paper bag it was in, waiting for the right moment to hand it to you. 

The walk soon ends and you take the bike once again, this time he rides you down to the beach, almost as empty as in the morning. You sit together on the sand just as you did in the morning and for the first time since you saw him you check the time. 5:27 pm, the day is nearly over, but you’re still enjoying it. 

“When will you be heading back? I’ll take you to the station.” He says quietly, eyes on the vast horizon. 

“I’m not sure I was planning for 7:30 maybe?” He nods, registering the information. “When is the last bus?” 

He turns to you, surprised by the question and somewhat relieved, that you didn’t want to leave so soon, “10pm, they don’t go too late here since nobody is really coming and going.” 

Those 5 hours seem like nothing, you want to stay forever but it would be irresponsible, irrational, you had to go back. You sigh, it wouldn’t be responsible to tell him how much you enjoyed his company today, since you weren’t sure when you would be back but you could feel the words itching at your throat. 

“I really liked spending time with you today, y/n.” He says, staring at the sand below you, voicing out your thoughts before you can. 

“I did too, you really did make me like it here.” 

“I’m glad.” He turns to you with a smile, it takes everything in you to not kiss him then and there. His hair flows in the wind, orange sun shining on his skin.  

“I don’t want to leave.” The words slip out mindlessly, as you stare at him.  

“Then don’t.” His stare shows more intent, all the begging he couldn’t do, his eyes reveal, “You came just like I did, with a backpack and now look at me, I’m running a coffee shop.” 

You give him an apologetic smile, it was too much for you leaving a whole life behind. You could come back eventually, but right now you couldn’t stay. 

“You can come work with me at the shop. The ladies in town are so welcoming, they’ll help you with everything.”

“Sungho… it’s not that easy.” He sighs, nodding as he turns back to the calm ocean view. 

“I know… It was worth the try though.” He laughs softly, you smile, taking his hand in yours. 

“I promise I will come back though.”

“I’ll be waiting.” You feel your heart bounce at the sound of those words, he makes you feel so special in everything he does. 

You stay there on the beach till the sun sets, enjoying the last moments together without thinking of the looming separation that is awaiting you. Once you reach the bus station, it’s about 9:48 pm and time is still moving as much as you wish it would stop for you. 

You look at him once more, one last time, he finally hands you the paper bag with the necklace he’d bought earlier. “A small souvenir, just for memories.” 

You ask him to put it on for you and he does. Pushing your hair aside, standing so close behind you, you could feel his breath. He comes back to your view after hooking it, looking at you with a pleased smile. Such a small pendant, yet it elevates your beauty in so many ways. 

The last call for the bus brings you both back to the moment. You both walked towards the bus the whole way in silence, waving each other goodbye as you entered the vehicle. You watch him out the window, as the bus starts he stands there looking at you. The words are inaudible but you can tell what he says as the bus drives off: “I’ll miss you y/n.”

[dannys-dream]

Invisible String - Jake Kiszka x f! Reader - Chaper One - Series

You’re just a small town girl who always had big dreams of living in Nashville. You hoped your music would get you out of your hometown, and your dreams were finally coming true. You knew you had your best friend, your music, and a new guitar to take you through the new life ahead of you. What you didn’t know was what and who this new adventure would bring you. Used to beach town life, could you adjust to the big city and the big names attached to it? 

Warnings : None this chapter :)

Authors Note : This is something I’ve had in the works for a little while now. I hope you enjoy this series. Please let me know if you have any suggestions, or if you’d like to be added to a tag list! <3

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You couldn’t believe it was actually happening. After years of coffee shop shows, bar performances, and the occasional birthday party or wedding, you were finally moving to Nashville. A dream since you were just a kid, stuck in a small beach town tucked away in the outskirts of Washington. You’d saved every penny from your gigs, giving guitar lessons to the neighborhood kids, and everything you could spare from your 9-5 paychecks. You checked your bank account religiously, waiting for the day you’d finally saved enough. All you needed was a few months rent, and the money to put gas in the U-Haul, yours and Cam’s home for the 36 hour drive. 

Cam had been your best friend since middle school. An absolute force to be reckoned with at your dodgy little public schools. You trusted her with your life, and believe me when I say there were plenty of times you’d gotten in enough trouble to prove you could. The day you told her you’d started saving to move, she started saving too. She told you that you'd have a piece of home with you down in the south, and she couldn’t bear the idea of not seeing you all the time. You thanked God every day since. You couldn’t imagine not living side by side with her either. So the two of you packed everything you owned into a little U-Haul, and drove away from the only place you’d ever known. Away from your families and friends who all waved and cheered you on as you pulled out of the driveway. 

“I can’t stop laughing, oh my god y/n. I can’t breathe. Why were they waving us off like it’s the ancient times and we’re setting sail on the Titanic or something?” She was cackling in the passenger seat, resting one hand on her stomach as she fanned herself with the other.

“Camille, be nice. They just love us.” A chuckle leaving your mouth as you merge onto the highway. You slide your phone to Cam across the bench seat and tell her your passcode. “Put our playlist on. I’m not driving all day without music, you freak.” You roll the windows down and step on the gas as Journey begins to spill from the speakers. 

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Day three of driving, your last day. The two of you had fought about pretty much everything, music, who was driving, what hotel or motel you’d sleep in, what was for lunch or dinner. There were good times too, though. Sightseeing, weird rest stops, having to pull over on the highway so Cam could pee because she absolutely couldn’t hold it in until the next bathroom (something you’d be sure to tease her about for the rest of your lives). None of that seemed to matter when the U-Haul was finally parked in your new driveway. A small 2 bedroom brick home stared back at you as you started unloading your things, the emerald green door waiting for your keys. 

“Hey C, I think we should unpack everything and then I can go return the U-Haul. I wanna get it over with sooner rather than later.” Yelling across the lawn, she agreed. You quickly passed boxes to her, not that there were too many in the truck. Finally empty, you and Camille headed inside to start unpacking boxes. You got your room set up enough to sleep in tonight, and told Cam you were headed out to return the U-Haul. You pulled out of the driveway, your favorite song playing as you turned out of the neighborhood, that is until your phone started ringing. Oh great, it’s your mother. 

“Hi momma, we just got to the house! We’re finally home.” Your mother was so excited for you to get out of Washington, even if it meant being almost across the country from her. 

“Hi baby! I’m so glad you girls made it safe. I just wanted to call because I have a gift for you.” Your mom couldn’t help but let out a choked sob. “You worked so hard to get out there, you saved so much money. Your dad and I wanted to get you something special.” 

“Mom, you’ve got me worried. Why’re you crying?” 

“Nothing wrong, y/n. We saved up some money for you to get a new guitar. A special one for your new life, in your new town. I just transferred you the money, my love.” 

“We’ve never been more proud to be your parents.” Your dad chimed in, the pride and sadness of your move evident in his voice.

Tears streamed down your face as you thanked them, and promised to send pictures when you picked out your new guitar. You wrapped up the phone call, thanking her once more, right as you pulled into the U-Haul parking lot. You paid for your rental, and called an Uber, deciding to have it take you to a small local guitar shop. Ramblr’s Music. Repairs, sales, lessons. On top of getting a new guitar, who knows. Maybe you could score a job there. 

A silver Honda pulled up next to you, and confirmed they were your Uber. As you slid into the backseat, you heard the music. A major guitar solo was playing, and it was stunning . Leaning forward and squinting your eyes you could see what it was. Greta Van Fleet. You made a mental note to check them out later, and made small talk with the Uber driver until you found yourself walking up to the little music shop. You’d barely been in Nashville five hours, and your life would already never be the same.

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You’d been perusing the guitars for over an hour, but none of them felt right. You knew they were fine instruments, they just weren’t your dream guitar. They weren’t a vintage Les Paul SG. You’d wanted one for years, since you’d taken your music seriously. The shape, the sound. Something so classic and beautiful that the modern re-releases just couldn’t quite compare to. Fully knowing it was out of your budget, you decided to ask someone anyway. You found yourself walking toward the desk, a short kid maybe 17 standing there on his phone. 

“Hey, I’ve been looking around and I don’t see what I was hoping to find. Do you maybe have any Les Paul SG’s?  Maybe one in the back, or do you know where I could find one? I’m new in town and don’t really know where to look.” You let out a small laugh, immediately feeling out of your element. 

“Actually, yeah. We’ve got one in the back that I guess has been on hold or something but it’s been weeks and the guy never came to get it. It’s in a case and everything, too. Let me go get it.” Popping his gum as he walked away, your heart was pounding. Were you actually about to buy your dream guitar? Something about Nashville was proving to be magical. 

He came back, a busted black leather hard case in hand. “Here, look it over. I think it's a ‘61 but I could be wrong. Just started working here last week.” The clasps clanked as you pulled them up and off, finally lifting the lid to the case. There she was. A beautiful cherry stain on the wood, new strings and a crack down the bottom half of the guitar, only adding personality and proof the instrument was well loved prior to you.  You carried the guitar over to an amp, plugging it in and sitting on the stool. You wrestled to figure out what song to play, finally deciding on one of the songs you’d put time into learning. Nothing Else Matters, your fathers favorite Metallica song. You’d spent hours learning to play it for him, and could remember the tears in his eyes when you finally showed him. A fond memory you now shared with your dream guitar. God, it played like perfection. You knew there was no way you’d walk out of this store without the cherry red beast. 

You walked back to the counter and safely secured the guitar into the case after taking a photo. The new kid checked you out, enabling a purchase you probably shouldn’t have made. You ordered an Uber, and slipped into the backseat with your new baby. 

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Jakes POV

Tour had been beyond exhausting. You loved playing, you loved the fans, you loved seeing the different states and countries. The only thing you loved more? Being at home, in bed with some popcorn and whiskey, watching a documentary on pirates. Especially on a fine Wednesday night such as this. Finally rolling out of bed for the first time in hours, your slippers pull you down the stairs and into the kitchen in search of food more filling than the snacks upstairs. Regrettably, you hadn’t gone grocery shopping in some time, simply surviving on what was left in your pantry before you left on tour. A groan leaves your chest as you trudge back upstairs. Slipping on your favorite blue jeans and a button up, you find your car keys and make your way to the jeep sitting in your garage. You decided that while you were out, you might as well run the rest of the errands you’d been neglecting in lieu of alone time. 

Your favorite playlist queued, and sunglasses pressed to your face, you pulled out of the garage and headed off to Ramblr’s. Your beloved guitar had taken far too much of a beating this last leg, and a crack appeared down the body. You had held her together for the last few shows using some electrical tape, the best thing you could get your hands on while on the road. On the way home from the airport, you dropped your guitar off to be repaired, only trusting Scott, the store owner, to repair your precious cargo. You rolled your car windows up, and hit your vape one last time before getting out and heading to the building. The second the shop doors opened, an uneasy feeling washed over you as the sounds of Scott screaming at some teenager filled your ears. 

“Are you fucking stupid, or are you dumb Jeremy? No, you know what you are? Fucking fired. Get out of my shop!” Scott pushed over a small display of guitar straps and stomped off, leaving who you assumed was Jeremy in a crumpled sobbing mess on the floor. You walked over to him, and crouched down. 

“Hey, Jeremy. Whatever’s going on, it’ll be okay. I’m Jake, and I’ve known Scott a real long time. I’m sure he’s just having a rough day. Let me go talk to him.” 

Jeremy looked back at you in horror, and pushed himself away. “I’m so sorry sir. I’m so sorry.” He picked himself off of the floor, and bolted outside, not even bothering to collect his personal items or clock off. You weren’t sure what happened, but you knew it couldn’t be good. 

You made your way to the back, where Scott’s office was and tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for whatever shit storm he was about to drop on you. You cleared your throat, and Scott’s eyes shot up to meet yours. His appearance disheveled, and tears of frustration threatened to fall down his face. 

“Ah, shit. Hey kid. Come in, have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from his desk. You shuffled over, and pulled the chair out before sinking into the plush cushion. He avoided eye contact with you, which was very unusual. You also noted him picking at his nails, something he did when stressed. 

After a few minutes of silence, you decided to bite the bullet. “Give it to me straight, Scotty. What the hell is going on?” 

His head dropped in shame, and he took a deep breath before shakily answering you. “Jake, that stupid new kid. He sold your guitar.”

Your blood ran cold, and suddenly all you saw was red. “Scott you’re fucking joking, right? Don’t fuck with me. Bring me my guitar.” 

He shoved the paperwork towards you, all of it showing the colossal fuckup Jeremy had made. “I wish it was a joke, Jake. But the kid sold her off to some girl who came in a few hours ago. I don't even know how he screwed this up so bad.”

You ran a hand through your hair, and sighed. “Make me a copy of this. I’m gonna go find her.”

”I already tried the number Jake. She wont pick up.”

You stood from the chair and looked down at him. “Scott, just make me a damn copy.”

He left the room, and came back with the papers for you and continued to apologize profusely as you walked out of the store. The rain soaked your clothes as you walked to the car, your breath visible in the cold weather. 

The paperwork told you basically nothing. Just her name, and an out of state phone number. The kid didn’t even fully fill out the sale paperwork, leaving the address and email slots bare. You got in the car, phone number in hand and hoped and prayed that she hadn’t left town. That guitar was your prized possession, the best gift you’d ever received. You’d been beyond floored when the Chicago Music Exchange let you have it, free of charge. And now, you had no idea where she was. 

You took a shaky breath, and dialed the number. It didn’t even ring. You’d immediately been sent to voicemail, and the default one at that. You brought your hands to your face, and rubbed your eyes. How could Scott let this happen?

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End of first chapter <3

TAGLIST : @hollyco @literal-dead-leaf @anythingforjtk @do-it-jakey-baby @eternal-life94

[arcane-vagabond]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Six

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Six

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Murder, Flirty Bradley, Mean Girl Mandy, Dry humping, Kissing, Possessive Jake, Skipper having a mental breakdown of sorts.

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: I'm on a roll, y'all, but just know that a lot of this chapter was just pure self indulgence. If you're feeling kind/generous, please consider buying me a ko-fi! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under arcane_vagabond where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist

The rest of the night had been a blur, your head fuzzy from your encounter on the beach. Javy and Nat had kept a close eye on you after you almost walked into the water, making sure you stayed close. The rest of the gang had checked in on you, Bob wanting to take you back home, but you had insisted that you were staying, not wanting to ruin his night. You had caused enough trouble.

Your eyes had been unfocused as you stared down at the sand, vaguely aware of everyone laughing and having a good time. Your mind felt slow, your body sluggish as you sat by the fire. Your arms were wrapped firmly around your knees where they were pressed up against you.

You jumped when someone plopped down next to you, and your eyes widened as they took in Jake’s form. He sat cross legged, back straight as he gazed into the fire.

“You’re not nearly as good at pretending as you think you are,” he murmured, peeking at you from the corner of his eye. You felt your cheeks flush as you looked away from him.

“I don’t want them to worry.”

“It’s a little late for that, I think,” he murmured, a humorless chuckle escaping him. You squeezed your knees tighter, attempting to make yourself smaller as the guilt ate away at you.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you admitted quietly, feeling Jake’s stare on the side of your face. “I’m not usually like this, I swear.”

“I believe you,” he told you gently, earnestly. “No one here blames you for anything, Skipper.”

“They deserve to have fun,” you muttered miserably, feeling the tears prickle at your eyes. “They shouldn’t have to worry about me and whether or not I’m going to pass out or drown at every turn.”

“Trust me,” he said, turning to face you, “everyone here is having fun, and they like hanging out with you. If they didn’t, then they wouldn’t be worried in the first place.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, looking at him with uncertain eyes. He gave you a soft smile, nodding.

“Promise.”

Bob had come to collect you shortly after, the smell of beer on his breath as he dragged you to your feet, insisting that he was tired and that it was time to go home. You had given Jake a small smile before following him back home, Mickey making sure the two of you got there in one piece.

Now, you sat on the end of the couch in Bradley and Jake’s living room, the group somber as the news from earlier that morning hung in the air.

Another body had been found, a young woman who had been visiting her family on the island. She had been at the bonfire the night before, and you remembered seeing her briefly. Her body had been found in the early hours of the morning, and the police had told reporters that they were investigating all angles, meaning that despite the apparent murder spree, there had been alcohol in her system and they weren’t sure yet if she had been the victim of a freak accident or a murder.

“Mav won’t tell me much,” Bradley said, scratching his chin. “But he told me they think it’s connected to the others, even with all the beer she drank.”

“Should he really be telling you all of that?” Reuben asked, an incredulous look on his face. “I know he’s your godfather and all, but still.”

Bradley shrugged, seemingly nonplussed at the idea.

“We should go out and do something,” Nat suggested, looking around at everyone. “I don’t want to sit here and think about this all day. We need to go and get our minds off it.”

“And do what, exactly?” Mickey drawled, raising an eyebrow at her.

“We could go to the boardwalk?” Javy suggested, looking around at everyone as Mickey let out a groan.

“Again?” He asked. “There’s only so many times I can ride the coaster before it stops becoming fun.”

“Then ride something else,” Nat snarked, rolling her eyes.

“I think the boardwalk sounds like fun,” you smiled. “We could go swimming after? It would be a shame to waste the day inside.”

“I agree,” Jake nodded beside you, barely letting your mouth close before doing so. “Skipper makes a good point.”

“I’m sure she does,” Reuben snorted. You saw Jake frown at the other man as Mickey and Bob both tried to disguise their laughter with coughs.

“I’ll do whatever,” Bradley chimed in, looking more bored than anything. “Just so long as I don’t have to keep sitting here.”

“Wait,” Bob said, brow furrowing. “Isn’t the ocean dance festival tonight?”

Nat let out a groan as Mickey wrinkled his nose.

“They’re still doing that with everything going on?” He asked.

“Damn, I completely forgot about that,” Nat muttered, checking the time on her phone. She looked up at you, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Skipper, you didn’t happen to pack a fancy dress or anything, did you?”

“No?” You said slowly, regarding her carefully. She blew out a breath, nodding.

“Didn’t think so,” she muttered, moving to stand. “Well, you boys will have to have fun without us. Skipper and I have some shopping to do.”

“What?” You asked, eyes widening as Nat pulled you to your feet.

She chuckled. “We have to go get you a dress for tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Reuben laughed, “the ocean dance festival is the one event all the girls in town look forward to. It’s an excuse for them to get all dressed up in pretty, fancy dresses and elaborate makeup while the rest of us try to decide which shirt is nice enough for us to pair with our jeans.”

“Ignore him,” she scowled, turning her attention back to you with an excited look. “It’s a lot of fun, Skipper. You gotta come!”

“I don’t know,” you trailed off, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. “I don’t even think I have enough to buy a fancy dress…”

“I’ll get one for you,” she said, raising her hand as you moved to protest. “Please, call it a ‘welcome to the island’ gift.”

“Also known as ‘Nat hasn’t gotten to play dress up with anyone in God only knows how long,’” Bradley joked, earning a glare from the brunette. Nat turned her pleading gaze to you, and you felt your resolve crumple.

“Alright,” you sighed. “Fine.”

An hour later you had a dress in your hands, Natasha still gushing about it beside you.

“You look so pretty in it, Skipper!” She exclaimed, mouth curved into an infectious grin, excitement radiating off of her in waves. “You’re going to be the talk of the town!”

“I highly doubt that, Nat,” you giggled.

“Trust me,” she chuckled, wiggling her eyebrows at you, “no one will be able to keep their eyes off of you once I’m through.”

You shook your head, not able to keep the amused smile off your face as the two of you made your way down the boardwalk. Several people were decorating a roped off area. Balloons, streamers, and ocean themed decorations littered the area, a stage sitting off to the side where a group of musicians were setting up their equipment.

“They really go all out for this dance, huh?” You mused, and Nat nodded.

“It’s been a part of the summer festivals since the town was founded. The city council and founding daughter’s group goes all out, which is the biggest reason why it wasn’t cancelled this year,” she explained. You hummed, eyes drifting to the familiar shop sign, and your eyes lit up.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, grabbing her hand. “Can we go in here really quick? There was something I wanted to get.”

“Mrs. Cambroni’s shop?” Nat frowned. “What could you possibly need from in here?”

“You’ll see,” you smiled. “Come on!”

The bell chimed as the two of you stepped in, and you greeted the old woman behind the counter with a smile. A handsome man stood with her, his eyes trained on the two of you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you had seen him somewhere before. His mocha skin had an underlying gold tone to it, dark hair cropped short. His dark, green eyes sent a shiver up your spine as he watched you.

“Good morning, dear!” Mrs. Cambroni greeted. “Back so soon?”

“Yeah,” you smiled. “I’m actually looking for something, and I wondered if you might have it.”

“I’ll bet you anything she does,” the man chuckled. “My aunt has almost everything under the sun here in her little shop.”

“Oh, how rude of me,” Mrs. Cambroni muttered. “This is my nephew, Cole. He’s in from out of town. Natasha, dear, you remember Cole, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, shooting him a small wave. “It’s good to see you again!”

“Likewise,” he hummed, eyes darting back to you. “And you are?”

“Oh, sorry,” you blushed. “I’m Skipper.”

He chuckled once more. “That’s an unusual name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you murmured, ducking your head out of embarrassment. “It’s just what everyone calls me.”

“What was it you were looking for, dear?” Mrs. Cambroni asked you. “Was it something for the festival tonight?”

“Sort of,” you started, moving forward and digging in your bag. You pulled out the large, black pearl, showing it to her. “I was hoping you’d have something for me to put this in so I could wear it.”

“I have just the thing,” she smiled, rounding the corner of the counter as she darted off to one of the far corners of the shop.

“Will we see you at the festival tonight, Cole?” Nat asked him, moving to stand next to you. Cole laughed lightly, ducking his head down before looking back up at her.

“I might make an appearance, yeah. It’ll be nice to see some familiar faces again.”

“You’re from here?” You asked him. He nodded.

“Grew up here before deciding to go to school down south. I live there full time now, but figured I’d come up and visit with my aunt for the summer.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” you grinned. Your grin faded as the nagging feeling in the back of your head grew louder. You knew him, you were sure of it. “I’m so sorry, but have we met?”

He grinned at you. “Not officially, but you did bump into me the other day over by the tilt-o-whirl.”

“Oh,” you balked. His words sank in, and you felt your skin flush as embarrassment washed over you. “Oh. Oh my god. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all water under the bridge,” he said, waving you off. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve fallen victim to that damn thing myself.”

You smiled at his words, feeling the tension lift from your shoulders.

At that moment, Mrs. Cambroni came walking back over, a golden chain dangling from her hand. It was beautiful, the chain holding a collection of smaller ones that held a cradle for a pearl to rest in, practically forming a raindrop. The old woman held her hand out, and you placed the black pearl gently in her outstretched palm. She fiddled with the necklace before showing it to you proudly.

“Turn around, dear, and I’ll put it on you.”

You did as instructed, moving your hair to give her easy access. Once she was done, she gestured towards the mirror that rested on top of the counter.

“Have a look!” She smiled. You did so, marveling at how the pendant rested perfectly just above the curves of your breasts.

“It’s perfect!” You gushed, looking over at her. She returned your smile warmly resting a hand against the counter.

“You know,” she began, a knowing glint in her eye. “The ocean dance festival has a longstanding tradition in this town as being a way for sea people to gain the attention of a potential mate.”

You could practically feel Natasha’s eye roll as you looked at the old woman, eager to hear more.

“It was a festival where potential mates dressed up in their best clothing to attract attention. Boys and girls alike dressed in elaborate costumes to showcase their assets,” she hummed as you paid for the necklace. “But, I suppose now it’s just an excuse for young ladies like yourself to get all dolled up for an evening of fun.”

“We have a friend who said something similar, actually,” you giggled. Mrs. Cambroni smiled, and Natasha grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door.

“Well, it’s been fun, Mrs. Cambroni, but we only have so much time to get ready before the festival starts. It was good to see you, Cole!” she called over her shoulder as she walked through the door.

“Why do you keep doing that?” You scowled at her as she dragged you down the street and towards her house.

“Because Cambroni is a nut,” she retorted, sparing you a glance from over her shoulder. “And you should take everything she says with a grain of salt. Besides, I wasn’t kidding. We only have so long before the festival starts, and while I am skilled at what I do, I need all the time I can get to get us both ready.”

Five hours later, and you found yourself standing on the boardwalk once again, fingers fidgeting with the green tulle of your dress. Nat had done an amazing job, not that you were surprised. The dress she had picked out for you was a beautiful sage green, puffy sleeves hanging off the shoulder as they met at the sweetheart neckline. Your new necklace hung just above your cleavage, and your makeup was simple, more natural looking than her own. She had kept it light, forgoing much of the costume vibes that other girls had seemingly gone for. Your eyes were dusted in a gold powder along with the edges of your lips, tiny pearls scattering the edges of your eyes. She had smeared some of the gold dust along your neck as well as your shoulders and collarbone, nothing to ostentatious, but just enough to draw attention to the skin there.

Nat herself looked absolutely stunning. Her red dress was strapless, a bunch of fabric folded on her hip to give the appearance of a rose bloom. Red eyeshadow creeping up her temples, and she had chosen a dark red lipstick to complete the look. She was beautiful, and she carried herself with confidence.

“Where are those idiots,” Nat muttered to herself, typing away at her phone as she attempted to track down the rest of your friends. A low whistle had the two of you turning, seeing Bradley with a wide grin on his face as he looked at the two of you along with the rest of the boys.

“Well, don’t you two clean up nice,” he hummed, eyes taking you both in appreciatively, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. Nat frowned at him, giving him a once over, taking in his jean shorts and Hawaiian shirt.

“Did you even try?” She asked him.

“The ladies love me for what I offer, Natasha,” he retorted with a wistful sigh as he shoved his hands his pockets.

“And what is that? An eighties porno stache and a collection of bargain bin dad shirts?” She threw back, causing snickers to float around your little group. Bradley took it in stride, smiling lazily at her as he shot you a wink.

“She’s just mad because she doesn’t look as good as we do, Skipper,” he whispered to you conspiratorially, causing you to giggle.

“Keep dreaming, Bradshaw,” Nat laughed, eyes peeking over at Javy who looked at her fondly. You smiled at the sight, eyes drifting over the group before they landed on those oh so familiar green ones.

Jake’s eyes bore into you, drinking you in, and you suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze. You smiled at him shyly, and you saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

“You look great, Skip!” Bob chirped as he popped up beside you. You broke eye contact with Jake to smile up at your best friend.

“Thanks!” You said, giving him a once over and cocking an eyebrow. “Did your mom make you wear that?”

“That obvious, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Only a little,” you giggled.

“Man, I’m starving!” Mickey groaned. “Let’s go get some food!”

He moved towards the growing crowd as the rest of you followed suit. Jake fell in step next to you, eyes still watching you.

“You look nice, too,” you whispered, watching as a dusting of pink made its way onto his cheeks. He smiled warmly at you.

“Not as nice as you do,” he murmured. You felt yourself preen at his words, pushing your shoulders back slightly. Jakes eyes darted down, widening at the sight of your pendant. He looked like he was about to say something, but a voice cut him off.

“Jake!”

The two of you turned to see an older woman, maybe in her late forties, waving at him. Her blonde hair was piled intricately in an updo, her white dress glowing in the setting sun. Jake smiled at her before looking back at you, gesturing for you to follow him.

She was even more beautiful up close, smile lines evident on her face as her eyes darted between the two of you, a question in her green eyes.

“Hey, mom,” Jake greeted her, wrapping her in a hug. “Wasn’t expecting to see you so early in the night. Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, your father wanted to wrap some things up at the office,” she chuckled, eyes trained on you as she spoke, a kind smile on her red lips. “Who might this be?”

“Mom, this is Skipper,” he said, smiling down at you softly. “Skipper, this is my mom, Nicola.”

“Please, honey. Call me Nikki,” she hummed at you, eyeing your neck. “My, don’t you look a vision tonight?”

“Oh, thank you,” you blushed. “I love your dress.”

“This old thing?” She scoffed, smiling warmly. “I’ve worn this dress to this festival for the past five years. I’ve been meaning to go out and get a new one, but who has the time?”

“Mom is one of the main people who plans this festival,” Jake explained.

“It’s always been my favorite,” she sighed, eyes growing hazy as she lost herself in thought. “It’s where your father and I became exclusive, you know.”

“Oh, like those stories,” you said. Nikki’s eyes looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself blush once again. “Mrs. Cambroni was telling me about the origin of the festival this morning.”

“Goodness, that woman certainly loves to meddle, doesn’t she?” Nikki hummed. Her attention was drawn away from you as a figure joined you.

“Hi, Nikki,” Mandy drawled, a tight smile on her face.

Nikki smiled warmly at her, taking in her appearance. Mandy wore a dark blue dress that hung off her shoulders, the neckline dipping dangerously low as the rest of the material clung to her every curve. Her eyes were painted in dark blue powder with gold accents, her lips a ruby red. She looked perfect.

“Hi, honey!” Nikki chirped. “You look…nice this evening!”

“Thank you,” Mandy smirked, eyes darting over to look at Jake, a frown on his lips. “I had this dress custom ordered for the occassion.”

“Mandy, do you know Skipper?”

Mandy glanced at you, smirk turning cruel as she took you in.

“Well,” she chuckled. “Looks like you clean up well after all. What a lovely surprise.”

You felt a wave of embarrassment roll over you, eyes darting around to try and find an exit from the suddenly tense conversation. Nikki seemed to notice the shift as well, and she frowned, eyes peering at Mandy who seemed none the wiser. The brunette turned to Jake with a smile as the band began to play.

“Jake, you’ll dance with me, won’t you?” She asked him, batting her eyelashes. You weren’t a jealous person, and you especially weren’t when it came to someone you weren’t dating. That’s why it came as a surprise to you when anger rose up in your throat at the way she looked at him, the mark on your neck pulsing. Mine, it said.

You were briefly aware of the smirk that adorned Nikki’s lips before she turned to Mandy.

“Actually, honey,” she interjected, “I was hoping you could come help me with something.”

Mandy gritted her teeth but offered the older woman a tight smile. “Of course.”

Nikki gestured for the brunette to follow, casting one last look over her shoulder at you, eyes shining mischeivously before disappearing into the crows. Jake let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair nervously before looking over at you.

“Do you,” he started, shifting from one foot to the other. “Do you want to dance with me?”

Your eyes met his green ones, shining with anticipation.

“I would love to,” you said softly. Jake beamed, moving to rest a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards the dancefloor. Several other couples swayed with the music, and you grinned when you saw Javy and Nat across the way, Nat’s head resting against his chest as he held her gently.

Your attention was torn away as Jake’s hands moved to rest on your hips, and you placed your arms around his neck. The air around you seemed to buzz with a pleasant warmth, the warmth of his hands causing heat to spread through you.

“Your mom is nice,” you commented in an attempt to distract yourself from the all consuming feeling as the two of you began to move with the music.

“She is,” he agreed, smiling down at you fondly. “She likes you, too.”

“How do you know that?” You asked him with a chuckle.

“She wouldn’t have dragged Mandy away if she didn’t,” he surmised, thumb stroking along your hip, sending a shiver up your spine.

“I thought she liked Mandy?”

“She does,” Jake replied. “In her own way. She knows Mandy can be…difficult.”

You hummed. “Then why did she want you to be with her?”

Jake sucked in a breath, lips forming a grimace as he answered. “Her and Mandy’s mom have been friends since they were in diapers. Their dream was for their kids to one day end up together, getting married and growing old. We come from two very prominant families, and it was an added bonus that us being together would help present a picture perfect ideal to everyone else. It was perfect.”

You noted the sense of bitterness his tone took on as he spoke, and your thumb brushed softly against the nape of his neck, causing him to suck in a small breath and tighten his hold on your waist ever so slightly.

“But?” You asked him, and he sighed.

“But, I wasn’t happy,” he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. “I love my parents, but their dream wasn’t mine. I’ve only ever wanted to make them happy, and if it meant putting my own happiness on the backburner, then I was willing to do that.

“And now?” You whispered, the two of you slowing to a stop as the song ended. Jake’s hands still gripped you tightly, no sign of letting go as he stared at you.

“Now,” he said slowly, “I think I’ve changed my mind.”

The two of you stood in the middle of the dancefloor as the band moved into the next song, the couples around you beginning to move again. You suddenly felt too warm, and Jake must have noticed your change in demeanor because he pulled away from you, hand gripping your left one as he dragged you away from the crowd. You let him lead you through the throng of people, and you noticed Mickey, Reuben, and Bob chatting with Mrs. Cambroni and Cole, all of them laughing amongst each other. Mrs. Cambroni caught your eye and shot you a wink as she sipped from her glass. You saw Bradley, Javy, and Nat laughing not too far away, but it was the cold, calculating blue eyes that cut through the warmth that surrounded you.

Mandy watched as the two of you maneuvered through the crowd. She disappeared from sight as Jake rounded the stage, the wall blocking most of the sound as he led you further down the otherwise deserted boardwalk. The music faded as the two of you kept walking, and finally Jake came to a hault. He turned, hands grasping your waist as he lefted you onto the railing, making sure you were comfortable before stepping in to the space where your thighs were parted. His hands remained on your waist as he gazed up at you.

“Feel better?” He asked you.

“Much,” you answered, smiling softly at him. “Thank you.”

Jake hummed as his hands made small strokes up and down your waist. The two of you remained silent, just enjoying the moment.

“The others said you didn’t feel like you had options before,” you hummed quietly, eyes darting up to meet his. “I’ve been wondering what they meant by that.”

Jake didn’t say anything, eyes searching yours before slowly leaning in. You felt his warm breath fan over your face, and your heartbeat quickened in your chest. He paused, eyes hooded as he watched you, watched the way your chest heaved at his close proximity, watched as your eyes begged and pleaded with him to close the gap, but still he waited.

You let out a strangled cry as the feeling of having him so close became too much, and you surged forward, pressing your lips against his. You felt like you were melting from the inside out as your lips molded against his, and Jake let out a pleasured groan, hands pulling you closer to him as his body molded into yours. You gasped as your thighs parted even more, allowing him to press his knee into your core. Jake took advantage of this, licking into your mouth with languid thrusts that matched the slow rhythm of his thigh as it grinded against you. Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on the blond locks in a way that had him moaning into your mouth. You ground your hips down experimentally onto him, earning a groan as he pulled away from you, nipping on your bottom lip before placing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he moaned, lips placing hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw before moving down your neck. You tilted your head to the side, offering him more access to which he eagerly took advantage of. You let out a whimper as his lips brushed the nape of your neck, a smirk forming on his lips as he began to bite and suck on the skin there, leaving behind what was sure to be a sizeable hickey.

“Jake,” you whispered breathlessly, hips still grinding down on him. His hands glided up the expanse of your body, his right hand cupping your breast and squeezing. You threw your head back, crying out in ecstasy.

“So pretty like this, baby,” he rasped, thrusting his hips up into your clothed core. “Think you can come like this? Wish you could see yourself. See how hot you look as you’re about to come just from grinding down on me.”

Your eyes were hooded as you looked at him, silently begging him to make you come. His eyes glowed in the low light, the sun having already disappeared beneath the horizon. Jake pressed a tender kiss to your lips, and you brought a hand down to his jaw to keep him there. He pulled back slightly, one of his strong hands on your waist as he guided you over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he watched you, a hypnotic lilt to his tone as he drank in the sight of you, fucked out and at his mercy. “And all mine. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded vigorously, words escaping you, but Jake shook his head.

“Say it,” he groaned, “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you sobbed, your high so close as you rubbed yourself furiously down onto him. Jake’s eyes danced in delight, a smirk on his lips as he watched you use him for your own pleasure. But then the smirk dropped and his eyes flashed dangerously as he pulled away. You mewled at the loss of contact, reaching out fo him. He took you in his arms, spinning you so that you were pressed behind him, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of a snarl as your head whirled around you. The intense warmth spreading through you was drenched with an ice cold feeling as a familiar cry rang out in the night.

The song was beautiful, higher pitched than the others you had heard previously, sending a mix of terror and a need to obey running through you. You made to move, but Jake’s arms held you firm. The song called to you again and you felt tears spring to your eyes at the conflicting feelings inside you. You’re breath came out shaky, and Jake turned to look at you. He grabbed your shoulders gently, green eyes boring into yours desperately.

“Skipper,” he crooned, a hand reaching up to cradle your cheek. “Listen to me.”

You wanted to, but the song still called to you, warring with the one coming from Jake as he continued.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he cooed, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Stay with me. Be my good girl. ”

Your eyes darted back and forth between him and the water where the song called for you to follow. A sob wracked your body as you through yourself into Jake, arms wrapping around him as you buried your face into his neck. He shushed you, rubbing at your back gently, and you were vaguely aware of the sound of your friends joining you. A warm hand rested on your upper arm like the person was going to pull you away, and you let out a desperate cry, clinging to Jake with all your strength as he let out a snarl. You paid no mind to the conversation around you as Jake held you to him, still cooing a song into your ears. You weren’t sure when exactly the other song ended, but you began to relax somewhat in Jake’s hold. You slowly came to, just as Bradley heaved out a sigh.

“Yeah, she’s staying with us tonight.”

[alwayssassydreamer]

bad decisions lead to pleasant outcome

Before you continue: english is not my first language so please bare with me. Also this is the first fic I’ve ever posted and I’m still trying to improve so sorry if this is a little chaotic and so darn long. I actually got a little carried away. Sorry about the rushed end I’m horrible at writing smut. And i only write fem!reader at least for now sorry about that. And the picture does not belong to me. Oh and the story is not proofread cause I'm lazy af.

For the story: in this story you will have a devilfruit which has no name bc i suck at names but nonetheless it allows you to „die“ without dying – yeah i know makes zero sense. No seriously what i mean is that it’s kinda like in a video game where you have 3 lives before it’s game over and that’s exactly your power. You can die up to 2 times within 24hours before you need to „reload“ otherwise it’s game over for you. Yep now that I’ve written it down it sounds super weird but it’s too late to change it….so have fun.

Warnings: i have no idea – swearing, maybe a little violence/threat of death, smut-ish at the end (consent), MDNI

Shanks x Reader

You’ve been pirating around with your crew for quite some time now earning you a pretty nice bounty on your head, though not as spectacular as some strawhat you’ve heard of. If someone outside your crew would’ve to describe you they’d probably say you’re cocky, overconfident and a little ruthless. But that’s what you had to be to survive in this world. Your crew, on the other hand, would describe you as a caring, loyal and fearless captain, capable to fight off enemies stronger than you just to defend them. Your devilfruit being rather useful in that case. After a long time out on sea everyone was glad to finally catch sight of an island. You and the crew decided to celebrate this with your remaining alcohol. When you set your first steps on this island you already started to regret drinking so much. You weren’t completely wasted like some of your crew but walking a straight line was kinda difficult. Therefore you decided it would be best if everyone remaind either on the ship or the beach till you all would sober up. After a few hours passed by you decided that it was time to check the island and refill your stocks. The island seemed pretty calm with no sign of someone bothering you when you’d take what you needed. You got to a small town and decided that after still feeling alittle giddy from drinking, it would be better not to cause any drama – steal what you need and then get back on the ship and sail off. In your head everything would work out perfectly, the crew would split up, some distracting the towns people while the others take what you needed. As soon as the people realize that they’ve been robbed you’d be long gone. But of course things did not work out as you planned. A few of the towns people recognized you from your wanted poster, followed by catching 2 of your crew mates stealing some alcohol. Just your luck. You had to fight the unexpectedly good armed and trained enemies off leading to a destroyed bakery, some knocked out men and a boost of your ego. You called for your crew to pack up the stolen stuff and get back to the ship. With a shit eating grin you looked around the town, then made sure that none of your crew gets left behind. „Thanks for the goods and the entertainment“ you shouted dripping of arrogance. As you hurried back you smiled to yourself, thinking about how easily you defeated these people and why you didn’t fight them off in the first place. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t see the other ship that had arrived at the island, nor the men that have been watching the whole scene that just happened.

As you got closer to the beach a strange feeling started to spread through you. Out of instinct you reached for your sword but you didn’t have the time to pull it out when you heard a deep voice behind you. „Better keep your sword where it is. Wouldn’t want your crew to get hurt“ the voice grumbled. You immediately looked over to your crew and saw that they were held at gunpoint by some men you couldn’t quite recognize from the distance. You took a deep breath, you didn’t mind that someone was threatening you, you still had your devilfruit but what got you really nervous was the safety of your crew. If they get shot they’re going to die and that was a thought that made you a little scared and at the same time kinda angry. How dare some asshole threatening you and them. You let out a small angry huff and slowly turned around ready to attack that fucker behind you. But as soon as you turned around you felt the tip of a sword at your throat. You gasped. Not because of the sword but because you saw who was holding it. Red hair, scar over his eye, only one arm and an expression that made it clear that he was in a really bad mood. „Shanks“ you mumbled to yourself. You had never met the yonko before but you’ve heard a lot of stories about him and his men. For a moment you lost all your confidence, you were intimidated by his appearance. Fear struck you as you looked into his eyes. You bit your lower lip and looked over your shoulder to your crew before taking a deep breath. You knew you couldn’t let him see that you were in fact scared of him. Not now. Not with your crew in danger. So you did the only thing you could think of – be a pain in the ass. The most arrogant smile spread across your face as you looked back at him.

„Think that’s funny little lady?“ He hissed low and threatening. „Kinda,“ you said still with that smile on your face while deep inside you were shaking. „So it’s funny for you to have a sword at your throat and my men holding your crew at gunpoint“ he said pushing the sword a little into your skin drawing some droplets of blood. You gasped still trying to remain as cocky as you could. „Well, the thing is i could easily kill you right now. Sure you would probably slit my throat in that process but unlike you i won’t die“ you replied as you looked him deep in the eye. He raised a brow and looked over to his men then back at you. „I know“ he calmly hummed catching you by surprise. „I’ve heard of you and your devilfruit and i know that you have to be killed more than once but i think that doesn’t apply to your crew“ he said nodding over to them. „It’s up to you how this is going to end“ he added. You nibbled on your lips, looking down at the sand then over to your crew before looking down again. Well you knew you were screwed. There was no way to win this fight without losing either your lives or worse losing your entire mates. „What do you want?“ You asked defeated, avoiding his gaze. „You and your crew caused a lot of trouble in my territory“ His territory?!? How could you not see that this was HIS territory. You cursed yourself for being such an idiot and not realizing this. You vowed to never drink again when you reach an island. „See the people on this island depend on my protection therefore i cannot let you leave after destroying the bakery and fighting the towns people“ he growled as he leaned closer. You swallowed hard, his stare was so intense you were sure he could see inside your soul. At the same time you felt something else, something you haven’t felt in years. You had to look away, heart beating so fast you thought you’d lose one of your lives due to a heart attack. „What happened to that cocky attitude. Don’t tell me you’re scared“ he taunted and that’s when you snapped. You launched forward pushing the sword away from your throat with one hand, leaving a cut on it, while grabbing for your own with the other. Needless to say that was a really bad idea because just a few seconds later you heard a rumble from where your crew and then found yourself laying on your back in the sand, sting on your neck. „Don’t kill them, everything’s fine here. Seems the little lady got a bit offended“ shanks shouted over to his men. „Maybe you should stop playing around before someone gets hurt“ a tall muscular man with greyish hair and a scar on his face yelled over to shanks. „Calm down beck, I’ve got everything under control“.

You let out a small squeak when you felt shanks‘ sword move over your stomach up to your heart at the same time feeling blood run down your neck. Luckily for you the cut wasn’t too deep – no life wasted. „You almost got your crew killed“ shanks continued to taunt you. But he was right that was a close call and you finally had to admit it – there’s no way out of this. „Next wrong move and they die“ he scolded. „Just tell me what you want and stop being an asshole“ the words just blurted out of your mouth but shanks just looked at you amused. „Well if you’re that eager, i want your crew to rebuilt the bakery, give everything you’ve stolen back and i want them to stay here and help out for as long as it takes to humble you.“ He said kneeling down, his knee right next to your head. „If you think we’re“ you started but he interrupted you „I’m sorry, guess i didn’t make myself clear. I want your crew to stay here. You, little lady, will come with us“. You stared at him with wide eyes, mouth open to yell at him. But you couldn’t no words came out.

God no one ever told you what an attractive man the yonko was. No. You shook your head, now was not the time to swoon over him, he attacked you, threatened to kill your crew, he’s an asshole, a good looking one though. „Be a good girl and stop being a pain in my ass“. Shanks said with a cheeky smile, ripping you out of your thoughts. Does he know what you’re thinking, can he read your mind? His scary and intimidating expression seemed to fade as he put the sword away. „Now we will walk over to your crew and you will tell them that they’re going to stay here until we come back“ he commanded offering you his hand to help you up. For a moment you wanted to take it but then decided against it, shoving it away and getting up yourself. „Still being a brat huh“. You glared at him as he took a step closer. „Maybe I’ll have to teach you a lesson once we get on the ship“ he whispered in your ear, making you gasp and shudder. After explaining to your crew what’s going to happen and watching them walk back to the town accompanied by two of Shanks‘ men you felt the strong urge to run away. You didn’t want Shanks to teach you a lesson, nor to stay on his ship. Well you didn’t get far when suddenly two strong arms wrapped around you and threw you over his shoulder „Not so fast little lady.“ The man you recognized as benn beckmann scolded. Shanks and his men just chuckled as you tried to wriggle out of beckmanns grasp to no use. Once on the ship, beckmann followed shanks into a cabin. „She’s a spirited one, better be careful“ beckmann said to shanks as he put you down. „Don’t worry I’m gonna tame her“ Shanks said devilish grin on his face, while you started to feel a knot in your stomach. Tame you? What is that supposed to mean? Is he going to torture you? Now you started to panic but tried your best not to show it. Beckmann stepped closer one hand reaching for your sword the other grabbed your chin with one finger to make you look up at him. You swallowed trying not to break the eye contact between you two. After what felt like an eternity of him burning holes into your soul he let go of you and left the room without another word as you looked after him. „I can ask him to join us later on if you want.“ Shanks said with a small laugh looking you up and down. „But by the way you’re looking after him it seems you wouldn’t mind“

You just looked at him dumbstruck only now realizing that you’ve been biting your lower lip while your hands had a tight grip on your shirt. „But first I’ll have to teach you a lesson for what you did today“ he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him. Out of instinct you put your hands up and on his chest. You were so close you could feel the warmness coming from his body. You knew you couldn’t resist him forever, especially not if he was this close. You looked down at his shirt, hands carefully moving to it’s buttons opening them one by one. Shanks watched you unbutton his shirt while his hand moved under yours caressing your stomach, making you twitch and gasp at the ticklish feeling. Once you were done he let you remove the shirt from him. „Now take your clothes off“ he commanded as he let go of you. „Make me“ you teased not sure if that was a good idea (given your streak of bad ideas it probably wasn’t). „I thought you wanted to teach me a lesson“you continued feeling as cocky as you did when you fought the towns people. But when you looked into his eyes you immediately started to regret saying that. They were full of mischief and his smile was devilish. You didn’t have time to react when he launched forward grabbing your hair and pushing you onto the bed behind him. „I wanted to go easy on you but i feel like you need someone to put you in place right now“ he hissed, as you tried to wriggle away. „Where do you think you’re going.“ He teased as he grabbed your ankle pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. He unbuckled his belt and got on top of you. „Keep in mind that everything happening now is your own fault“ he growled as he ripped your clothes from you. In an instant you were completely naked underneath the yonko. The sudden air on your exposed skin made you gasp. He leaned closer kissing around your breast while his hand moved on your inner thigh drawing circles getting closer and closer to your private part. You let out a moan as he bit down on one of your nipples, feeling a smile spread on his face. „You will be sorry after I’m done with you. Now let me hear you scream my name little lady“ he said as he kissed a way up to your face until his lips brushed yours as his hand finally made contact with your center. He got you so riled up but then denied you and that went on for some time till you were a begging and pleading mess. After Shanks thought that you’ve learned your lesson he made you cum over and over again. Needless to say that his name was heard all over the ship. As you went from one high to another you thought that maybe the decisions you made today weren’t that bad after all.

[natalie668]

Hey i was wondering if maybe you could do something with the poly lost boys finding there mate right after they said that they can't find love? It can be for the boys or the reader. You don't have to ofcourse if you don't want to.

Here you go love, hope you enjoy this, I know I enjoyed writing it. I’ve been a bit stuck writers block wise and this helped pull me out of it ❤️ This is ModernAU! Hope that’s ok. 🥰

You sat on the edge of your best friends bed, you felt miserable; you had just finished college for the summer, and your supposed boyfriend had been cheating on you with your room mate, a girl you had to share dorms with.

“Just forget about it love, you told me his dick was small anyway.” She says laughing, pushing your shoulder after doing the finishing touches to your face.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, she sure knows how to cheer you up, which was why she was dragging you out 2 towns over to Santa Carla for a music fest on the beach, she’d gotten the two of you tickets weeks ago. You used to live in Santa Carla so you were happy to go back, if not to get away from your hoe of a dorm mate and the cheating prick of an ex. You guessed Love just wasn’t in the cards for you, and you believed that was okay.

“Right, get your sexy arse up, get your dress on, we’ll go downstairs order an Uber and we’ll get there in time to scout for hotties.” She says as she pulls her phone out, in minutes the Uber is on the way, and you’re both off.

It takes around 30 minutes in the car before the driver is dropping you at the board walk, the sounds and smells make you nostalgic for times of the past where you’d spend the days here with high school friends, and a lot of the times on your own.

Holding hands with your bestie, you both head towards the loud music, pulling her phone out she pulls up the QR code for your tickets and you’re let in and you’re making your ways through the crowd.

Bodies are grinding against one another, you try to avoid being stood on as much as you can, finding an open space you pull your friend into the spot, you dance together to the song playing. “Pacify her, by Melanie Martinez” is playing and you love the song so you’re singing along, your hands, a live band will be playing soon so you take advantage of the songs between acts.

You sing along to the song, dancing as if not a single person is their looking, you feel free, which is saying a lot as you haven’t felt free since you had began dating your ex.

As the two of you are so engrossed in dancing you don’t notice the four guys leaning against the nearest fenced off area. There eyes have found you amongst the hundreds of bodies in here and something clicks. Like they’ve been in the dark for the past centuries and seeing you has turned the light on.

You’re perfect as you stand their dancing, they eye you from head to toe, you’re like heaven and they have to stop themselves from running over to you throwing you over their shoulder and running. (Or flying) away with you.

David looks to the others and they turn towards you and all four of them stand their watching their angel, their soulmate. They couldn’t believe they’d found you, they had began to believe you didn’t exist.

As one, they approached you; your bestie spotted them heading towards you both, their eyes on you. With a smile she pushes you to check them out, with a grin she says she’s going to get you both a drink.

The lightest blond guy, settles a hand against my side, the moment he touched me it felt like my heart had a string attached to him, it was like when you read books on soulmates, I could tell this was it. I guess with the amount of books I read this was the closest thing to experiencing the real thing.

“I’m David, this is Marko, Paul & Dwayne,” he says as he points the other guys out who haven’t taken their eyes off me. Something pulls me into wanting their touch.

“Why do you all feel like mine,” i say unable to stop myself. They probably think I’m nuts, great job love.

“That’s because we are yours, and you my Love, are ours.” Bringing his lips to your own, you swallow your moan as you feel several pairs of hands stroke down your back, across your arms and your hand.

“You’re our soulmate, my sweet.” The dark haired one says his eyes seem to glow after saying that, you have no idea what they are or why you’re believing soulmates are true but you’re so glad you decided to come with your bestie.

Note: hope this was okay Anonymous ❤️ I know no smut but I can always try for a part 2 if need be :-)

[lily-alphonse]

elliott x harvey/paper airplanes? i’ve been obsessing over these dreamers lol

OMG I love the ship name

Hmmmm lets see. This is interesting because I really like them individually and have not thought to pair them.

What I immediately think of is that they would like the same music. I think that could open the door for them.

Like Harvey sees Elliott, this beautiful charming man, and he's already sold but would never act on his fantasy. Elliott though, he doesn't think much of Harvey at first. He's too bland for his taste.

I think I would couple this ship with Elliott experiencing growth in his personal journey after moving to Pelican Town.

Initially he romanticizes the idea of living on the beach, then it's not what he thought it would be. It has it's moments, the breathtaking sunsets, the haunting wind. But there's so much sand. It's everywhere. It's in his bed. His hair is always tangled. And the thing he hadn't considered when isolating himself to write is just how boring it would be.

Everything is so boring, but that's what he wanted, right? To have an empty canvas free to create on?

The villagers are wary of him despite his charm so he doesn't make friends right away. But he watches. People-watching over a glass of wine is one of his favorite pass-times.

An old jazzy song comes on that he knows well and enjoys. He closes his eyes and loses himself to it for a moment before noticing Dr. Harvey's foot tapping just slightly against the bar.

He hadn't considered what music the good doctor might enjoy, if any at all. He'd always seemed as bland as the rest of this place. So this was intriguing.

He begins to watch him more. The doctor is a loner too but seems content in his bubble of boredom.

And every once in a while, Elliott is surprised to learn something new about him that implies a depth to him he hadn't expected. The fascination bleeds into the rest of his life as he begins to wonder if he just isn't looking closely enough.

After a few instances of small talk over wine Harvey expresses admiration for Elliott, for following his passion.

"Following, not quite sure where it's getting me, however," Elliott smirks.

"I think you'll make it," Harvey says with heartwarming certainty. Elliott finds his earnestness increasingly disarming, flustering him as much as Harvey is flustered by Elliott's charm.

Also Harvey's balloon ride but with Elliott? That would be incredibly precious. When ur artsy bf is so busy crying over the sunset he barely notices you having a panic attack lmao

Send me any Stardew Valley rarepair and I will tell you how I would make them work! (Even non-marriage npcs) If youre lucky you may get a mini fic out of it. Check the list below to see if Ive already answered yours

Rarepair Masterlist

@sonicsbigmassivepersonality (love that name btw lol)

[jonathanbiers]

a list of liminal spaces/situations where reality feels a bit altered to use as inspiration or writing prompts!

feel free to also use as an ask game if you like!

mirrors in a dark room

playgrounds at midnight

when you're moving out of a house and checking your room when it's almost or completely empty and sorted out

rest stops on highways

a room lit by candlelight only

an empty laundromat at night with the washing machines still on

deep in the mountains

churches at night

abandoned gas stations

hospitals at midnight

abandoned warehouse

out-of-commission lighthouses

empty parking lots

rooftops in the early morning

early in the morning wherever it’s just snowed

trails by the highway just out of earshot of traffic

schools during summer

bowling alleys after close

a cornfield next to a long country road

being the last person awake at a sleepover

hospital waiting rooms

airports at night

foggy cemeteries

abandoned prisons

hilltops in full moonlight

empty barns

marshes

a body of water shrouded in fog

hiking/biking trails during winter

winter twilight

back allies between houses

empty roller rink

dirt roads on fall evenings

libraries after closing

the woods during a rainstorm

roads covered in snow

train stations after 10pm

the air outside right before a massive storm

the woods just after twilight

the beach in winter

the bottom of swimming pools

secluded back corner of a library

windy roads at night when you can only see what's immediately in front of you

empty skatepark on a warm night

anywhere immediately after a really bad fight

the lakeside anytime between 2 and 6 am

firework shows when you’re sitting on the grass

being the only one downstairs on christmas  

stepping outside in the early morning when it has just snowed

when its dark and you see snowflakes falling down in the light of a lamppost

that one clear spot in the forest with trees surrounding it

a parked car in a snow/thunderstorm

corn fields with the wind blowing over them

malls about to close for the night

woods at twilight/dawn

being on a train after midnight

theme parks at night

being alone in an elevator for a few minutes

looking down at the trees from up high

the ferry about to take off in the middle of the night

tree houses

4-6 am on a winter morning

the feeling of being chased

condensation coming out of your mouth when it's really cold in the morning

arcade just after close

stepping out on an unfamiliar metro/train stop

greenhouses that have been left to grow alone

biking/walking on the main road when it's dark and no cars are around

foggy swamp

bakery just after opening, everything is fresh and warm and the sun hasn't risen yet

hotel corridors in the middle of the night

foggy mornings in a meadow

flickering streetlights

long, dark hallways

the middle of a park when its snowing

train tracks in the forest

bonfires in the quiet

a little lake in the middle of the forest

lonely swings swaying with the wind

the woods on a night with a full moon

rest stops

empty metro stations that are usually crowded

gas stations on long mountain roads

the old part of a city when you’re the only one in the street

under an old bridge

knowing you're not alone in a space where you can't see anyone around you, like a forest

junkyards

a dimly lit stairwell

empty sidewalk outside of a small venue when you can hear live music through the walls

corner store in a small town

parking garage at night

an empty field with old/out-of-commission industrial equipment/large machinery

graffiti'd train car

[hbyrde36]

No Vacancy

When Eddie Munson arrives at the Buckingham Beach Motel to spend the summer with his BFF Chrissy and her business partner Robin, the last person he expects to see waiting in the lobby is former king of Hawkins High and asshole extraordinaire, Steve fucking Harrington.

Chapter 1: Checking In

WC: 4547 | R: Explicit | CH: 1/12 | AO3| Now Complete!

Eddie grinned as he pulled his trusty van, the very same rust-bucket he’d been driving since high school that he liked to refer to as Van Halen, if only to elicit the groans of both friends and strangers, into the small parking lot of the Buckingham beach motel. He hadn’t been on vacation for…

Well, he’d never been on a true vacation before, actually, unless that one time he went fishing with his Uncle Wayne for a weekend counted. And sure, he was going to be working at least part time while he was visiting his best friend in her seaside paradise, but it was still the closest thing to a holiday he’d ever had. Needless to say, Eddie was hell bent on thoroughly enjoying himself this Summer. Sun, sand, and shirtless men in speedos? 

Sign him up!

He hopped out of the van, relieved to finally stretch his legs after the long drive, and threw open the back doors, staring down at the collection of boxes, duffel bags, and one large black trunk that made up almost the entirety of his worldly possessions. 

The day after he finally graduated from Hawkins High, back in 1986, Eddie had cut and run and not looked back. He’d been living as a kind of nomad ever since, never quite feeling comfortable enough to stay in one town or city for too long. He was usually able to find work as a bartender or bouncer to fund his stay at whatever hostel or efficiency he could find, and when all else failed he slept right here in his van. 

He still visited Hawkins on a rare occasion, a necessary evil to be endured only so he could spend time with his beloved uncle, but that place would never be home for him again.

It wasn’t a bad life. He’d seen a lot of cool places and met tons of interesting people, but lately he’d been missing something. The stability of a real home, perhaps. The kind you only really get when you put down roots. In his weaker moments he yearned for the support and community that could be found with friendships that lasted longer than a few months. 

With a sigh, he grabbed the two largest bags that held the majority of his clothes, and the backpack that held the rest of his day-to-day essentials and headed towards the lobby. He could always come back out for the rest later.

The first thing Eddie noticed when he walked in the door was the spectacular pair of legs and delicious ass in too-short shorts that belonged to a man who was leaning over the counter talking to Robin. Unfortunately, the second thing he noticed was that same man’s oddly familiar swoop of chestnut brown hair. 

Eddie’s stomach dropped. 

What in the world was Steve fucking Harrington doing here?

“You made it!” Chrissy squealed as she came barreling out of the office door, having spotted him through the reception window.

Eddie knew what was coming, but he was a little slow given the way the metaphorical rug had been ripped out from under him, and in his current shocked state only just managed to drop his bags in time to catch the former cheerleader as she launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

He held her tight, forcing himself to let go of all thoughts of former jocks and high school rivalries for a moment, and just enjoyed the fact that he was here with his best girl—finally seeing her in person after so many months apart. He inhaled deeply, appreciating the familiar scent of Ex'cla-ma'tion. He used to hate her cheap drugstore perfume, but it’s amazing what you start to miss when you're separated from your loved ones for so long. 

“Missed you.” Eddie whispered into her hair before finally letting her down.

She giggled as he swung her to the floor, and then proceeded to punch him in the arm as hard as she could, which was pretty fucking hard for such a tiny little thing.

“Hey! What was that for?” Eddie sputtered.

“For waiting so long to come visit this time! I missed you too, jerk.”

He rubbed at the spot where she’d hit him. Honestly It didn’t actually hurt all that much, but he liked to play along for the bit. “Jeez, Chris. Funny way of showing it.” 

“You love it.”

“Keep it in your pants, lady, you’re not my type.”

“Freak!”

“Priss!”

Eddie doubled over, cackling, and Chrissy laughed hysterically right along with him, the two falling into another hug just to keep each other upright. When they finally calmed down enough to behave normally again, Chrissy pulled back from his arms, her expression turned serious. 

After a glance back over her shoulder she spoke low, barely above a whisper, “so as I'm sure you noticed, we have another hometown guest joining us.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Harrington’s kinda hard to miss. What's he doing here anyway?”

“Visiting Robin for the summer?” Chrissy said it as if it should have been obvious.

It wasn’t.

“Why?”

Chrissy let out a long suffering sigh. “He’s her best friend! You know this, how do you always forget?”

She was right, he did always forget that when Robin talked about her friend Steve, that it was Harrington she was talking about. It was such an odd pairing that Eddie just sort of blocked it out. He couldn’t reconcile the Steve from Robin’s stories with the prick he remembered from Hawkins. 

“Right, fine, sorry. What about him?”

“Well, you know this is our first season, and the booking system is so new and confusing. We may have accidentally overbooked, but it's okay! Because the three of us were talking about it before you arrived, and since the one room we do have left is a double queen we thought… ”

Absolutely not.

Eddie grabbed her by the hand, cutting her off and tugging her across the lobby as far from Steve and Robin as they could get.

“Are you crazy?! You want me to be roommates with King Steve?!” He hissed, throwing his hands around wildly. “Have you completely forgotten what a giant asshole he is?!”

“We’re not in high school anymore, Eds. I’ve spent time with the guy. He’s always been nice to me, and if what Robin tells me is true? Then not only is Steve not like that anymore, maybe he never really was.”

Eddie's jaw tightened. She could not be serious. Jock’s don’t change their stripes, or whatever.

“Right,” he spat.

“Look at me! I changed, and we became friends. Why couldn’t Steve be a good guy underneath it all too?”

He waved her off. “That’s different. You are the exception that proves the rule. And you were always a good person, you just ran with a bad crowd for a while, not to mention the boyfriend we do not speak of.”

“Exactly! So isn't it possible that Steve is the same?”

“No.”

Chrissy groaned. “I’m serious! Really think about it, do you remember him ever doing or saying anything shitty to you directly? Or was he just there in the background while his friends did?”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “Assholery by proxy is still assholery.”

“I don’t think that’s a word.”

“Come on Chris!” Eddie whined. Had they been alone he might have even stomped his feet. “Don’t make me do this. Can’t I share with you?”

“You know I live with Robin.”

“Okay, and? It’s only for the Summer. She can stay with Steve and I can stay with you. It’s a perfect solution!”

Chrissy shook her head. “Our room is a single and I love the shit out of you, but I draw the line at sharing a bed.”

Wait, what?

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “How did I not know about this? Does that mean you finally got your act together and told her how you feel?”

Chrissy turned bright red and threw her hand over his mouth. “Oh my god. Shut. Up. Of course I haven't told her!” 

He tried to respond, but Chrissy refused to move her hand—so naturally, he licked it. 

“Gross!” Chrissy yanked her hand back with a look of disgust.

“Jeez, I know it’s not the tongue you were hoping for, but it wasn’t that bad!” 

Chrissy whirled around, probably worried that Robin had overheard them, and Eddie might not be the most present guy, but he was still a good friend. As much as he liked to mess with her, he’d been keeping a very close eye on the other side of the room and Steve and Robin were too engrossed in their own whisper-shouting match to pay them any attention.

Steve must be equally irritated by the girl's proposition. 

Eddie leaned forward, speaking close to her ear. “Are you telling me that you and Robin run this place together all day, share a bed every night, and you still don’t think she likes you back?” 

“It’s not like that!” Chrissy insisted. “We make more money from the doubles. Financially it made more sense for us to live in one of the singles. We’re just, uh—two really good friends having a never ending sleepover.”

Eddie wasn’t convinced and honestly it didn’t sound like she was either, but he’d drop it for now. “Whatever you say.”

“So, what do you think about sharing with Steve?” 

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to me,” Eddie grumbled.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! I’m sure you two will get along fine. Who knows, maybe you’ll discover you have some things in common.” She sounded so optimistic, it was her one flaw.

And was it his imagination or did she just wink at him?

“Yes, I'm sure we’ll come out of this as the best of friends.”

“That’s the spirit!” Chrissy cheered.

“I was being sarcastic!!”

For whatever reason, Steve also agreed to this outrageous living arrangement—reluctantly, Eddie assumed, though the other man did an excellent job at hiding how unhappy he must be.

Harrington was all smiles about it. Eddie wanted to punch him in the face.  

Once the deal was in place, Chrissy announced she had to leave for a meeting with the bank, something about an additional small loan to make more improvements on the place or something, leaving Robin alone to show him and Steve to their room. 

Eddie liked Robin well enough, but he’d only ever hung out with her and Chrissy together. He was worried she might act differently or something with Steve around, but It became abundantly clear after he heard her call the guy dingus for the third time in their five minute journey, that his worry was unfounded. Robin was Robin, and she changed for no one. He appreciated that, and kept his guard up, ready to defend her if need be—in case Steve finally had enough and lashed out, becoming the mean girl Eddie remembered from years ago, but it never happened. 

Damn he was good. 

The Buckingham was the kind of motel where all the doors opened to the outside. Some towards the front street, giving a beautiful view of the ocean, others opened up to the pool area in the back. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was a perk of being friends with the owner, or a consolation prize for the mix up, but he and Steve were given a room on the second floor, ocean side. There was even a cute little wooden bench next to their door, "In case you two ever want to sit out and watch the sunrise,” or so said Robin. 

Eddie hadn’t woken before ten in the morning voluntarily since he graduated, and he didn’t think the lure of a few pretty colors in the sky was going to end that streak, but he very politely kept that thought to himself.

“That’s a nice thought, Robs,” Steve said, chuckling. “But I think I'll get to see plenty of sunrises at work.”

Robin shuddered. “You’re a better man than me.”

“What does that mean?” Eddie asked before he could stop himself. Not like he cared, it was just natural curiosity. 

“I’m working as a lifeguard on the beach, so I'll be up at the crack of dawn nearly every day anyway.”

Eddie grimaced. 

Jesus Christ, a dick and an early riser. 

Lovely. 

“Don’t worry though!” Steve added quickly. “I'll be careful not to wake you up. I know how to be stealthy, like a ninja.”

It was… the absolute dorkiest way he could have said it. 

Eddie almost cracked a smile, but held firm in his grumpiness by the skin of his teeth. “You’d better.”

Steve performed a little cross-your-heart gesture.

What the fuck.

“Seriously, my roommate in college was a really light sleeper,” Steve went on, “so I have a lot of practice sneaking out quietly.”

Eddie’s lip nearly betrayed him then, twitching upwards like a traitor. Luckily, Robin drew Steve’s attention away for a second, allowing him a moment to regain control.

“Oh, I’ll just bet you do.” Robin teased.

Steve’s cheeks flushed, but he ignored her comment and turned back to Eddie. “What about you? Are you getting a job, or just hanging out?”

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I got a part time gig bartending at a place a few blocks over. Looks like we’ll be living on opposite schedules.” Eddie grinned, sounding gleeful even to himself. “We may never have to see each other awake.”

Steve’s smile faltered for a beat, but quickly returned to its full power. “Well, lucky for you I’m a very heavy sleeper, so you won’t have to worry about waking me up when you come home late.”

Eddie grit his teeth—he was getting annoyed. What did he have to do to get a rise out of this guy, huh? To get a peek behind the mask? And who did he think he was, saying ‘lucky for you’? The only person it was lucky for was Steve, because no way was Eddie going to be tip-toeing around in his own place. Not for anyone.

After asking if they had any questions about the place, Robin handed them each a key and took off, leaving them to it. If Eddie had a little less pride he might have begged her to stay, but he supposed he might as well start getting used to the situation.

The room was small.

Two queen beds made up the majority of the space, with a single nightstand wedged between them. A dresser sat across the way, with six drawers and a small T.V. on its top. The rest of the room was made up of a tiny bathroom, an even tinier closet, and an efficiency kitchen consisting of a sink, mini-fridge, microwave, two burner cooktop, and a little table with two chairs. 

Eddie dropped his bags in the middle of the floor. As much as he would have liked to just ignore Steve, the space was tight enough that they would have to dance around each other the whole time they were unpacking. They also needed to figure out how they were going to split the space.

“Alright, how do you want to do this?” 

The only thing Steve expressed a preference for was taking the bed closest to the door, which sounded like some alpha male bullshit to Eddie, honestly. As if Steve needed to be the first line of defense if someone were to break in while they were sleeping. 

The idea was ridiculous and definitely not at all hot.

But, Eddie wanted the bed by the window anyway, so it was fine.

Once that was negotiated, they began to put their things away. It was… suspiciously easy. Steve kept deferring to him, even offering to give up one of his three drawers when he realized how much stuff Eddie had. It was infuriating. What did Steve expect to get out of all this politeness and generosity? There were no girls here to impress.

Eddie curtly refused the offer, which Steve only shrugged at, saying there would be plenty of extra closet space anyway, as he only had a few dress shirts to hang up. Eddie gave up then, leaving about half of his band tees in one of the bags and kicked it under the bed before throwing himself on top of it. He’d finish unpacking some other time, when he didn’t have an audience. 

He laid there and watched through barely open eyelids while Steve pulled an extensive collection of very tiny swim trunks out of his bag, and contemplated the injustices of the world—quietly brooding as the other man found a home for every single item he’d managed to squeeze into his singular suitcase. 

It was impressive, rankly, not that Eddie would ever tell him that. 

Finally, Steve picked up a rather large toiletry bag and wandered away. 

Unable to resist, Eddie got up and followed. This was something he had to see. Steve hadn’t been called ‘The Hair’ half his school career for nothing. 

Eddie stood in the doorway, observing through the mirror as Steve hummed softly to himself, arranging his collection of hair and skin care products along one side of the sink and vanity, being ever-so-careful to only take up half of the counter space.

For some reason, that was the final straw.

“What’s your deal, man?” Eddie snapped, more accusation than question.

He hoped Steve might finally fight back, but of course he didn’t. Remaining frustratingly calm as he replied. 

“What do you mean?”

Eddie growled. “I’m not buying the nice act, okay King Steve? So you might as well drop it. I’d rather you be real and be a prick, than this fake polite bullshit.”

For half a second Steve looked almost… sad? like Eddie had hurt his feelings somehow, but it was gone so quickly—must have been a trick of the light.

Steve smiled and shook his head, finally glancing up to make eye contact with Eddie’s reflection. “I don’t know what to tell you. What you see is pretty much what you get. You wanna talk about King Steve? Now that shit was an act.”

Fine.

If Steve wanted to continue to pretend he was a good guy now? Eddie would just have to see how far he could push him. Sure his best friend was an out and proud lesbian, but how would he react knowing that the man he was going to share a room with for the next twelve weeks or so was gay?

“Whatever you say, Harrington.” 

Eddie tapped his fingers on the doorframe as he thought over his words. “Y’know, we should probably work out a system for when we want to bring dates home. I remember your reputation of course, and I know I'm hoping to bring more than a few guys back for a nightcap after the bar closes, if you catch my drift. So, what do you think?” 

He’d started out his little speech feeling brave and a bit cocky, but by the end of it there was sweat pooling on his upper lip, and he was thinking maybe this wasn’t the best way to come out to a former jock who could probably snap him in two with half a thought.

But—

The whole thing elicited exactly zero reaction. 

Steve didn’t miss a beat, didn’t even bat an eye before he asked, “What, like putting a tie on the door or something?”

Eddie wanted to scream. 

“I’m sure we can do better than that,” he huffed, stalking off to look around the rest of their room for ideas, quickly zeroing in on the set of hang tags sitting on the table in the kitchen area. 

Eddie beamed. Most hotels just had the standard 'please service' or 'do not disturb' messages on their tags, but of course the girls would try and get creative with it.

“Here, these’ll work.” Eddie said, barely managing to hold back a laugh as he held the first one up for Harrington to look at.

Steve read aloud. “Out to sea. Cute.”

“Right, so we can use that one when the coast is clear,” Eddie’s eyes sparkled as he raised the other sign, “and this one when one of us has a guest.” 

“My boat is docked. Do not disturb.” Steve said, cheeks flushing pink as he read.

Eddie ginned widely. “See? It’s perfect.”

As it turned out, Eddie had been right. 

He and Steve had been cohabitating for 4 days already and he hadn’t seen the guy awake once since they went to bed that first night after an awkward meal of Chinese takeout and a bad movie, watched without commentary from separate beds. 

Steve was always already asleep when Eddie got back from the bar at two a.m. each night, and was long gone by the time Eddie rolled out of bed the next morning. Though, in his continued campaign to act like a decent person, Steve had made a point of leaving half a pot of fresh coffee on the warmer every day. 

Eddie thought about dumping it out of spite, but it was king of… nice. 

It brought back memories of Wayne doing the same, leaving coffee and food out on the kitchen table for him to easily grab on his way out the door, because his uncle knew Eddie wouldn’t eat anything otherwise. It was comforting, and though he knew Steve didn’t really mean it that way, it made Eddie feel taken care of. He’d take that feeling where he could get it for now, even if it came from someone he couldn’t stand.

Work was busy that night. It was his first Saturday behind the bar, and the place was absolutely heaving with sweaty bodies grinding themselves together to the rhythm of whatever shitty top 40’s cover song the band played. On the rare occasion that he had a moment to breathe Eddie found himself scanning the crowd for anyone that might pique his interest. 

He wasn’t as subtle about it as he maybe should have been, but Chrissy had once assured him that their part of town was fairly queer friendly, though there was no actual gay bar to speak of, so he figured he was safe enough to look.  

He’d been looking every night since he’d arrived, actually, but had yet to notice a single guy that set his radar off, until now.

He was tall, blonde, insanely tanned, and not at all Eddie’s type—but when the pickings were slim, beggars couldn’t be choosers. The guy was cute enough, though, and he was looking at Eddie like he wanted to eat him alive. 

Perfect.

Eddie knew he looked good tonight. He’d purposely put a little more thought into getting ready than he had before previous shifts, knowing that the larger weekend crowd would give him a better chance at getting lucky. 

His black jeans were skin tight, and the boss had even let him cut his white uniform t-shirt into a crop top, showing off a strip of pale skin and trim waist anytime he raised his arms. To top it all off, he’d worn his hair up today with just a few tendrils falling around his face. Honestly, that had been more about the heat than anything else, but he also knew it was one of his best looks.  

Eddie met the nameless man’s gaze from across the room, holding it firm as he dried a pint glass and raising his eyebrow in silent question.

The man smiled glancing at his friends, who were far too busy chatting up a group of barely legal young girls to pay him any mind, before sauntering up to lean across the bar. 

“What time do you get off, gorgeous?”

Eddie smirked. “Meet me by the side door in an hour.”

The streets were quiet as Eddie and his new friend walked the few short blocks from the bar to the Buckingham. A fact they took full advantage of, stopping to shove their tongues down each other's throats at regular intervals along the way. 

So caught up in finally getting a little action, it wasn’t until Eddie was leading the way up the stairs to their floor of the motel that he remembered his unfortunate roomate. 

It was late, guaranteeing that Steve would already be in bed fast asleep. Somehow, Eddie hadn’t considered this little problem when they’d worked out the whole do-not-disturb sign system. 

Oh well, he’d just have to wake Steve up and tell him to get out for a while. 

After telling his… date to wait outside, Eddie slipped into the dark room and crept over to the closest bed. Looking down at Steve’s sleeping form, he almost changed his mind. It didn’t feel right to kick the guy out of his own bed just so he could get off with a stranger, but then Eddie thought back to the way Tommy Hagan—Steve’s former best friend and second in command—used to spit the word queer in his face like acid as he shoved him against the lockers before P.E., and he found all the motivation he needed. 

“Harrington?” Eddie murmured as he shook Steve's shoulder.

Steve stirred, waking slowly and frowning up at Eddie with heavy eyelids.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” Steve's voice was thick with sleep but also—genuine concern.

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. 

Oh.

He hesitated to answer for a moment, but forced himself to shake it off—whatever it was

Don’t start feeling bad about this now, Munson, get your shit together. 

“Everything is fine. I just, um.. I need the room. For a bit?”

Smooth. Real smooth.

“What? I don’t…” Steve trailed off, frowning harder. 

Eddie saw the moment it clicked.

“Oh.” Steve breathed, looking more awake by the second. “O-ok, I'll just take a blanket down to one of the pool loungers I guess.”

“Cool, I-I mean, thanks,”  Eddie stuttered out as Steve got up and they both went for the door. “I’ll–uh–let you know when he’s gone.”

It was strange, he would have expected to feel a sense of satisfaction or something in this moment for managing a hook up before Steve did, but as Eddie watched him shuffle off wrapped up in a blanket after giving bar-guy an awkward nod, he just kinda felt like a jerk.

Then, bar-guy was hurrying inside, drawing Eddie into a rough, bruising kiss—crowding him against the wall before dropping to his knees, and he forgot all about feeling bad. 

The man made quick work of the fly on Eddie’s jeans and had them pulled down around his thighs in a matter of seconds. It all happened so fast he could do nothing but moan loudly as his length was engulfed by the warm wetness of an eager mouth—any lingering thoughts of Steve drifting away under the attention of this stranger's talented tongue. He came quicker than he would have liked, but eagerly returned the favor—happy to lose himself to the feeling of a cock down his throat for the first time in weeks.

After, when clothes were set to rights and no cuddling whatsoever happened, exactly how Eddie preferred it, bar-guy was gone. 

And Eddie went down to the pool to get Steve. 

Chapter 2

Tagging a few folks who I think were interested, just let me know if you want to be removed. If you'd like to be added to the tag list, i'd be more than happy to do so!

@penny00dreadful @every-aj-needs-an-angel @manda-panda-monium @hellion-child @dreamwatch @brbsoulnomming

[sammyluvr]

literary parallels — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, light angst, fluff, small injuries, few seconds of physical fighting (self-defense), no use of y/n, you have a dad and i gave him a name (rick lol), mentions of death of loved ones, sort of case fic, kinda ignores canon timeline in terms of a few minor things but canon doesn’t matter much in this fic lol, poorly edited most likely, 3.6K words. requested !

summary : sam is someone from your past at stanford university, and the last place you expect to see him again is on a case. that’s exactly where you find him.

today is one of those days where the reality of your life feels strange, unwelcome, and somewhat foreign. it’s not as if you’re new to the hunting life; it’s just the opposite, and yet, you often feel removed from it, especially after having lived normally at college for a few years. but you were ripped back into hunting without being able to finish your degree by your father after the death of your closest cousin. 

so now you’re cooped up in a crappy motel room searching endlessly through detailed lore websites and the few books you have on you, trying to make sense of the odd patterns of killings in the small california town. that’s part of the pit in your stomach for today; the beach town, cayucos, is only three hours from stanford. 

being so close to your former university after almost a whole year brings back a whole lot of mixed feelings. mostly longing for the normalcy that you loved and lost, but also a renewed urgency to find what killed your cousin. she had been studying at a different college just an hour inland from you. when she died, you had wanted to salt and burn her body and move on. but when your father showed up with proof of odd circumstances, he pursuaded you to rejoin him in the hunting life.

the deaths in cayucos are certainly odd, but they lack the defining features that would allow you to identify the creature at fault. so, you’re searching for anything with a grudge against hot men and a killing cycle of seven years since those are about the only patterns so far. your dad is at the coroner’s office, meeting with an old hunter friend to check out the body of the latest victim.

that’s been another reminder of your brief time at a normal school with normal friends and normal hobbies. when your dad first told you he called in a friend to help, he’d asked you, “d’you remember john winchester? you met him once when you were a kid, he’s an old buddy of mine.” you shook your head and he shrugged, saying something about how it makes sense; you were young and only met him once. but the name stuck in your mind as he left, and it had nothing to do with hunting or when you were a kid on the road, stuck in motels, school if you were there long enough, or the town library if you were lucky.

that name, or the last name anyway, comes from the stanford part of your life, the one you keep cherished in the most protected corners of your heart. sam winchester was one of your few friends during your time there, and after hearing his family name spoken aloud, he’s floating through your mind all day.

he disappeared after jess, his girlfriend and one of your other few friends, died, mere weeks before your own cousin died and you left standford as well. you’ve always wondered what happened to him, the best conclusion you could come to being that he couldn’t bear her death. they were absolutely in love with each other, but you know jess would have wanted him to finish at stanford, then head to that law school he was bound to get that full-ride to. sam always had an air of strength about him, so it surprised you when you never saw him again. he wasn’t even at her funeral, and to this day, that’s your singular bone to pick with him. 

but, you can’t afford to think about him too much as you search for answers about the case. abandoning the lore websites for the meantime, you look over the police records of all the deaths that you can find, hoping to draw together any more patterns that you can use to narrow down your research. you’re jotting down a few notes, thinking you may have found something regarding accounts of a few of the men being last seen with a woman, when your train of thought is interrupted by an unexpected knock on the door.

on instinct, you draw your gun as you cross the room, looking through the peephole and silently cursing when you realize the light out front has gone out. all you can make out is the tall, broad silluete of a man thanks to the dimness of the twighlight sky.

you wait for a moment at the door, hoping he’ll just walk away after he doesn’t get an answer. but you’re unlucky, and he knocks again before calling out, “hello? rick sent me here to … help with the case, he said his kid was here. i’m john winchester’s son, sam.”

if you were in an old-timey cartoon, your jaw would’ve dropped to the floor. sam … sam winchester. it sounds just like him. trying to keep your head, you swap your gun for a nearby canteen of holy water and slip a silver knife into your pocket for accessibility. it’s too much of a coincidence for you to believe it.

you crack the door, just enough for him to hear you a bit better. “sam winchester? like stanford full-ride, lawyboy sam winchester?”

“i– how do you–” there’s a moment of silence, and you know that he’s piecing together the few clues he has; your voice and the last name you must share with your dad, the man he knows as rick. his voice is just as cautious as yours as he says your name like he can’t really believe it.

for a moment, you stop thinking when you hear his voice saying your name after so long, and you throw open the door and let him in. the light from the motel room finally illuminates his face, and it’s him, it’s really him. and the moment you think that is the moment you realize that could absolutely not be the case.

the second he turns to you from closing the door, you’re splashing holy water in his face so fast you barely catch the look he was about to give you; eyes so full of surprise and wonder and confusion and something akin to joy. you react quickly to his lack of reaction besides the normal surprise at getting splashed in the face, slashing at his arm with your silver knife to finish testing him. but he reacts just as fast as you, grabbing both of your wrists, spinning you around and pinning you to the flat surface of the door.

his hold is quite strong, but he doesn’t have the time to bear his full weight into holding you down before you react, so you’re able to manuever out of his hold with practiced ease. you lift one arm up as you yank the other down to make it so you’re able to slip down and to the side, out of his hold. then you’ve got a strong hand to his back, shoving him face-first against the door and your other arm bringing your knife to his throat.

the thought that his profile view with his pulled-taut eyebrows and the grimace on his mouth looks pretty has the audacity to float up to the forefront of your mind before you can squash it down. the whole struggle had taken mere seconds, and he resigns the minute you’ve got him pinned down.

“it’s me,” he pants, “i swear. ‘m not a shapeshifter or ghoul or anything, it was just instinct. sorry,” he explains quickly, “go ahead, test me.”

you debate saying “don’t mind if i do,” but decide that you don’t have to be teasing or snarky about it. instead, you tamp down your hesitance to hurt him, even a little bit because he still sort of feels like innocent, regular, lawboy sam to you, and you draw a thin line of blood at the spot where his neck slopes into his broad shoulder. there’s no burning, just a normal wince from his mouth, so you loosen your hold on him and step back, internally cringing at the small bit of blood beginning to slip down towards his collarbone.

“sorry,” you say, far more sincere than you would be if it’d been anybody else. this is the norm for hunters, but you haven’t quite wrapped your mind around the fact that sam is a hunter. you’d never once would have guessed, though you suppose that was the point. you had done everything you could to hide that part of your life during your time at stanford.

“it’s fine,” he gives you an awkward half-smile, just as sincere as you. “just, y’know, your turn.” you’d been so busy taking in the sight of him standing there, looking almost exactly the same, but not quite, as he had in college, that you forgot about the courtesy of testing yourself too.

“right,” you clear your throat, “of course.” without the hesitance any normal person would have, you take the knife to your forearm and splash a bit of holy water on your skin. “there we go. no demons or shapeshifters or the like. that’s good.” you feel incredibly awkward all of the sudden, still so bewildered and thrown off balance by the collision of your two words. it feels like too much of a coincidence for you to be this close to your old school, be thinking about sam winchester, a symbol of that old life, then for him to show up and flip your whole entire understanding of him. there’s just about a million things running through your mind at just about a million miles per hour and it’s starting to make your head hurt.

the movement of his hand, reaching up to hold the small cut you gave him is what brings you out of your short lived reverie.

“god, i’m sorry. let me get you something for that.” you don’t give him the time to politely tell you, “no, it’s okay,” like you know he would before you’ve turned your back and crossed the room to grab a first aid kit from your bag and some rubbing alcohol from the bathroom. “sit down,” you urge him when you turn back to him, motioning towards the table you’d been seated at when he arrived.

he complies and once again, you’re thinking about the strangeness of sharing this sort of space with him. you’re used to seeing him in libraries so big that they’re almost grand for quiet study sessions or in the dining hall with his nose buried in a book or in the lecture hall where you first met him in a gen-ed class. you’re used to seeing him on one of the grassy quads with jess by his side or him in the big, open, and fancy old university buildings. now he looks right at home in the dingy motel room, so small it feels like his tall, broad frame shouldn’t fit in here, so dim that his sometimes blue or green eyes look sort of muddy. they’re pretty, nonetheless.

you set the first aid kit on the table and pull out a large bandaid and a bit of gauze. you reasses the cut to be sure he doesn’t need any other sort of bandaging and almost sigh in relief when you see how shallow it is. sam doesn’t speak or protest that he’s fine to do it himself as you pull the collar of his t-shirt aside just a bit. you’re sure his mind’s busy with a whole load of questions for you, just like you for him. the brush of your knuckles against his skin suddenly makes his presence feel more real. whatever contact you’d had during the short-lived fight you’d had was completely surreal; you weren’t sure he was really even sam, and if he was, it would feel like a lie anyways, for his hands to be rough or so quick in a fight.

he doesn’t so much as wince when you press alcohol soaked gauze to the cut, and though the wound is small and shallow enough that you’re sure it barely stings, it still feels like a sign of his being a hunter, being used to pain. you don’t like that thought; sweet, sincere, and ever so smart sam being used to pain. as you take care of the cut, he lets his eyes wander around the room, probably taking in how familiar it is, and how weird that it’s your motel room and all of your belongings packed into a single bag and your computer screen displaying hacked into police reports and the very same lore websites he frequents to solve a tricky case.

when you’re done he thanks you with a small smile and you take the seat across from him. as your fingers had brushed over his bare skin and felt a whisper of his strong shoulders, you’d gotten the strong urge to hug him. you missed him even more than you thought. that urge doesn’t leave when you move away from him.

you make a confused face at sam when he reaches for the first aid kit and pulls out another set of bandaids and gauze. he just hands you a gauze now soaked with alcohol and nods at you.

“for your arm,” he explains, because you’ve already forgotten about that as you accept it with a questioning brow.

“right,” you chuckle softly, swiping over the cut with the gauze, then taking and applying the bandaid that sam opened for you. when you’re done you have to drag your eyes up to meet sam’s gaze. there’s tension in the room, and though it’s not bad per se, it’s begging to be addressed and you’re not sure how to even start. it seems like sam’s not sure either.

so, you choose to jump right into the fire.

“it’s so good to see you, sam,” you confess, pushing all your sincerity into your voice, “i mean, this is absolutely insane and i can’t quite wrap my mind around it, but i guess i don’t really care because it’s so good to see you. i worried about you so much after … after jess died, i mean, you just dissappeared and … and i can imagine that has something to do with the fact that you’re a hunter, which is sort of incomprehensible to me, but–,” suddenly you’re hit with a new realization. if sam’s disappearance had to do with the supernatural, you wonder if jess’s death did too. but you don’t want to ask, not right now. “oh, god, and i never got to tell you how sorry i am. i– i mean. i can’t imagine.” there’s where your voice trails off and you look to sam to be the one to say something now.

“thanks,” he answers simply, voice gentle but a little pained, rightfully so. “she was your friend, too. i mean, we were all friends. and i’m sorry i disappeared like that. i, um, well, you’re right. hunting dragged me away. it’s complicated and i’ll explain it to you later. you deserve to know what happened to jess, but– but it’s a lot.” a moment of silence allows that to sink in; so something did happen to her, something more than just faulty electrical wiring in her apartment. sam’s genuine as he goes on, “and it’s great to see you too, really. it’s so strange, i mean all of this, obviously, but it’s even stranger how close we are to stanford. i was already thinking about it, about you all on the way over, and the next thing i know, you’re the suspicious hunter throwing holy water in my face.” 

you cringe a little at that, but sam smiles a little wider than he has all night. “that’s a good thing,” he half-laughs, “i don’t care how weird this coincidence is, i’m glad for it.” his hand twitches, almost as if he’d wanted to reach over and grab your hand, but thought better of it before it could happen. “i gotta ask, did you finish your degree?” the way he asks is so hopeful, and you immediately know how much he wants the answer to be yes. he’s thinking, if i couldn’t finish, please tell me at least one of us could. that one of us poor and foolish hunter kids who thought we could escape managed to long enough to finish a degree, prove that we could make something of ourselves in the normal world. it would be so nice to see that, if it couldn’t be me, it could be somebody, it could be you.

his face falls a little when he registers the sad smile on your face. your expression is more than enough of an answer, and the fact that he wanted so badly for you to have made it makes your heart break a little, for both him and you. we deserved better, you think.

“just about the same thing happened to me,” you begin to explain, “you remember my cousin, bex?” sam nods, recalling the way the two of you acted like siblings the few times he met her, how much you liked alike when you smiled, already sad for what he suspects he might hear. “she died a few weeks after jess. she and i both grew up hunting, and we both thought we got out of it, at least for a little while. we almost lasted all four years … i didn’t think there was anything weird with her death, but … my dad showed me proof of just that at her funeral, convinced me to come back to hunting with him. she was– she was hiding something, and, honestly i’m still not sure what happened. progress on her case has been slow. real slow, so we’ve been working on others in the meantime. keeping busy, you know.”

“oh, i know,” sam sighs, and you completely believe him. you wonder for a moment what bigger things he’s digging into before deciding it’s best if the two of you stick to what’s in front of you. if you go too deep, having each other, a new kind of steady presence from better times, might start feeling too unreal again. 

you want to preserve this delicate balance, where sam is still stanford sam and you’re still stanford you, but now there’s just a deeper understanding of each other. a knowing of what it’s like to grow up with a hunter for a father, to want to get away from it all, to want a sense of normalcy, and to want to learn and become something more and say “screw you!” to all of the expections. and on top of that, knowing how it feels to get so close to the finish line, only to have it ripped out of your hands like you’re a child who’s parents think they’ve had too much candy. only it’s far worse than a half eaten lollipop in the trash because people that you love died, and it was all so much more than just chasing after a momentary sugar high. 

“i’m sorry about bex,” sam says, this time actually reaching out and placing his hand on yours for a moment. his voice is as full of empathy and sincerity as ever. “she was amazing the few times i met her. i could see how close you two were.”

“thanks, sam.” you give him a small smile because those words feel so much better coming from him than just about anyone else. with that, the air seems to settle a little, and it’s far more bearable. you’ve still got a hundred and one questions to ask and a hundred and one more things to say to each other, but to find out you have this near-exact shared experience is like having so much of the weight of loneliness lifted from your chest. and it all feels even better because you know sam. you know him already. 

sure, there’s a whole lot you missed before, but you don’t doubt for a second that the sam sitting in front of you is as kind, funny, smart, witty, sincere, adorably awkward, and good as the sam you met and came to know at stanford. in fact, knowing he grew up the way he did just reaffirms his goodness to you. it’s not easy to live like that and continue choosing to be kind and well-meaning and true to yourself. then there’s this feeling of admiration for sam, just blooming in your chest and you hold back a wide grin because the timing’s not quite right. you still can’t shake the urge to hug him.

“well,” you smile casually, if not a little rueful as you say your next words, “i think our dads will go all hunter-dad-crazy on us if we keep playing catch up. i’ll give you a run down of everything i’ve got, then we can do what dropouts from the west coast’s most prestigious school’s do best; research.”

sam’s smile matches your own, and it’s achingly familiar. “well, we can’t have those asses ruin our not-quite-stanford-alumni reuinion. let’s get to work. we can pretend it’s like the good old days, spring freshman year, all of us cramming for the way-er exam at the back of the library and getting shushed by the librarians. we can pretend john and rick are the librarians.”

for the first time in a long time, you let out a loud laugh, surprised and pulled right out of you without warning. he smiles wide at the sound and finally, without restraint, you grin back. god, you missed him.