#not that i don’t like fist bump. i do! it’s on my playlist and i think it’s a great theme for the game

[irisintheafterglow]

Heyy, van I get a suguru geto x reader based on this playlist pls? Creative freedom, I just enjoy the playlist and your writing

https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLVNLTHYHuG3QRkaWiIAoNztVS2Ad51M3j&si=R_K3McCdTLK9Vc3H

tell me that you love me, love me till my lips turn blue

summary: for the first time in what feels like forever, you're paired with suguru on a mission. he gets...distracted.

wc: 1.13k

cw/tags: best friends to lovers, some language, canon-typical violence, mutual pining, suguru is the #1 lovesick idiot when you're not around, a little suggestive toward the end but nothing explicit

note: HIII you always have the best requests!! this is short and sweet but i was listening to the playlist nonstop while i was writing and oh MAN was it an experience. like ok powerful reader and powerful bf duo with doja playing in the background?? and then a good ol' makeout session at the end? delicious. hope you like this, thank you for your ask!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated :)

“They’re practically lining up, hmm?”

“Guess they’re excited,” you smile contemptuously at the Curse syndicate in front of you, all seven of the most wanted Jujutsu defectors this side of the prime meridian. Your partner on the mission huffs out an incredulous breath and you see him scowl out of the corner of your eye. “Do you need a–”

“Yeah,” he mutters and you wordlessly hand him the black hair tie from your wrist. You always kept extras when you were working together because he was sure to lose the one he brought; it was basically tradition, at this point. “You wanna take this round while I fix my hair?” 

“Sure, be right back,” you say carefreely as you shoot him a wink over your shoulder. He rolls his eyes lightheartedly at your antics and you decide to show off a little bit. Let’s gamble…25%. You stretch your limbs from side to side before raising a hand, sharply pulling it into a fist when you latch onto the energy signatures of the group in front of you. With such a low gamble, the effect of the additional energy is instantaneous; a quarter of the energy for every enemy in front of you basically over-replenished your own reserve. With the supplemental energy and your opponents temporarily stunned from the energy-theft, you send a single arc across the entire group and render them on the verge of unconsciousness. You mentally kick your technique up to 80% and absorb the remaining Cursed energy, leaving the syndicate groaning and incapacitated. After texting the higher-ups to dispatch a cleaning crew, you check on Suguru’s progress with taming his unruly hair. “You good?”

“Mmm, yeah. Just gimme a little longer,” he says absentmindedly, pulling his hair back over and over again until he’s satisfied with it. “I don’t know why I’m bothering with this, since the mission’s basically over. On paper, at least.” 

“Any idea where that last defector went?”

“I sent out a few Curses to go find him, but chances are he’s long gone by now. Satoru will probably end up catching him.”

“Oh, he’s gonna be so mad that he has to, you know, do his job,” you joke and he chuckles softly under his breath. It sounds like sunshine. “Any hard feelings that you didn’t get to save the day?”

“The opposite, actually,” he corrects and the look he gives you has your face burning. “I’m happy I got to see you in action. It’s not often that we’re paired together.”

“I know, and I’m sure you miss your awesome, amazing, gorgeous, talented best friend.” Your elbow knocks against his bicep and he shoulder bumps yours in response.   

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls, waving a dismissive hand and your jaw drops in fake displeasure. “Just admit you missed me, already.”

“Not if you won’t admit it first,” you reply nonchalantly, in stark contrast to the increasing rhythm of your heartbeat. You were walking the ledge of that dangerous cliffside again, on the verge of completely falling for your best friend without knowing shit about his own feelings. It was selfish, allowing yourself to love him, but you couldn’t find the motivation to stop. “Let’s get out of this shithole; I’m craving some of that taiyaki we saw earlier on the–” 

Your words are abruptly cut short by Suguru’s hand gently but firmly covering your mouth while the other hand tugs you into a dark nook of the cave. He quietly shushes you and glances in the direction of the footsteps approaching from around the corner. You don’t focus on anything he’s trying to tell you, though, because your mind is short-circuiting from his proximity and the fact that he hasn’t taken his hand away from your arm. In fact, whether consciously or not, his fingers rub little circles onto your skin and your vision becomes a little starry. You weren’t sure if the affection was to relieve his anxiety or yours, but you sure weren’t complaining.

“Stay here, yeah?” He briefly takes his hand away from your mouth but doesn’t go far, repositioning it beside your head due to the cramped space he’d pulled you into. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath, minty from the gum he stole from you in the car. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Gonna take care of that last asshat out there and then come back and,” he inhales, eyes flicking down to your lips for a nearly imperceptible moment, “probably do something stupid.” Before you have the chance to ask what he means, he slips away and you hear the sound of faint rumblings. Chunks of rock crumble on the floor, the thuds mixing with distant pleads for mercy. The iridescent scales of Suguru’s dragon cast rainbows on the walls in the dim light and, before you know it, he’s back in the corner with you, slightly more flushed but just as handsome as minutes prior. “Miss me?”

“Cocky asshole,” you mutter half-heartedly, absolutely sure that he could hear your blood pounding in your ears from sheer adrenaline. He looked intoxicating, staring at you so intensely that your knees were buckling against the wall. The tension was suffocating in the stuffy, dusty atmosphere and your impatience reared its ugly head. “Well?”

“Well,” he breathes, unable to tear his eyes away from your face. 

“You gonna do that stupid thing yet or not?”

“I’m thinking about it,” he admits quietly, one hand brushing the side of your cheek tenderly. “Can I–”

“Stop thinking and just do it, Suguru. I’m not getting any younger–oh,” you murmur, melting into him when he grabs your chin and kisses you with pure devotion. His hand against the wall next to your head turns into his forearm when you pull him as close to you as humanly possible, the other finding your hip and drawing more of those infuriatingly loving circles. When you finally break away long enough to catch your breath, his lips stay on your skin, pressing feather-light kisses to your cheek, neck, and anywhere he could reach. When he finds your ear, he whispers the sweetest little promises that make your head spin. 

“I would die for you, you know,” he says in a low tone that you want to bottle up and inject into your veins. “I miss you so much when you’re out on missions; it drives me out of my mind.”

“I gotcha,” you grin and he raises a sharp eyebrow in question. “I got you to admit you miss me.” 

“Time for you to keep up your end of the deal, sweetheart.” His forehead rests against yours and he lets you greedily pull him even closer, humming when you pull the tie loose and card your fingers through his hair. “Say you missed me too.”

“Mmm. I missed you too, you love sick fool.”

“Takes one to know one, pretty.”

hear that? yeah that's me barking

[ageofbajabule]

Dear Patience | Part Two

Jake x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Smut, alcohol consumption, mirror kink, angst, fingering (f! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up!), slight cockwarming.

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Continues where part one is left off.

Author’s Note: Hey!! So I’m hoping you are all enjoying the series so far. I’m trying to and hopefully can. Would like to try and release a new chapter once a week. It’s unclear of how long this series will be, but just know I do have a vision for this series. It’s really hard to write sometimes because I get in my head and second guess my writing so that’s why it takes longer than I would like it too for when I post… So please, without further ado enjoy the second part. :)

Dear Patience Masterlist

General Masterlist

Apple Music Playlist

Spotify Playlist

“Y/N! Open the damn door!” Jake started slamming his fists on the door. “Go away!” You sat against the door, dropping your head in your hands as you cried. Why did I do that? Why did I even kiss him? Is he going to remember this? Am I even going to remember this?

“Fuck! Why won’t you come out…” Jake sighed in defeat. And then you heard him sit outside the door, “Y/N… Come on.” That’s when you unlocked the door, “Jake…” You move away from the door and are met to see Jake standing in the doorframe. “Why did you?” You put your hand over his mouth. “It was just a stupid thing. You’re not even gonna remember it. Neither will I. Just forget it.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair.

“So you’re just gonna act like nothing happened then?” He scoffed, moving you away from him. “Jake, you honestly think I would have feelings for you. When all you do is treat me like shit.” You crossed your arms, “If you weren’t up Sam’s ass 24/7 I wouldn’t be.” He threw his hands up, “Don’t bring Sam into this. Sam has been my best friend since the 3rd grade. You have nobody to blame but yourself. I’ve never done anything to you to deserve this type of treatment.”

“Don’t think for a minute that I would want to even be with you. You’re just a waste of space…” Jake said in front of your face. You clenched your fist feeling your eyes water. A couple tears falling, “Wow. That was very cold of you… Low of you actually. No wonder a girl would never love you.” You wiped your tears and stormed out of the bathroom, bumping into Sam. “Oh shit, sorry.” You look up and meet Sam’s eyes. “Hey, what's going on?” He questioned you, “Oh nothing, just had an eyelash in my eye.” You giggled softly trying to pull it off. “Oh alright, I thought some guy was being a douche to my best friend.” He chuckled softly.

“Can we get out of here? I’m starving and would like some sleep.” You smiled at him, “Yeah. Let me grab Danny since he is sober and able to drive.” Next thing you know, you’re in the back of Danny’s car heading back to the apartment Danny and Sam shared. “Danny, can you please make your infamous pancakes?” You giggled in the backseat. “Yes I can, just promise me you won’t be blowing chunks tonight.” He laughed softly, turning on the stereo and playing a song from his playlist. It was a familiar tune. The Chain by Fleetwood Mac

You start singing the opening notes,

Listen to the wind blow

Watch the sun rise

Run in the shadows

Damn your love, damn your lies

Then Sam and Danny join in with you

And if you don’t love me now

You will never love me again

I can still hear you sayin’

You would never break the chain

After jamming out to the next few songs in the car you finally arrived at their apartment. “Sammy, can you carry me?” You stepped out of the vehicle, “Yeah. Come on.” He chuckled, picking you up walking into their apartment complex. Luckily they were on the first floor, so it made things easier. Danny unlocked the door letting Sam and yourself in first then he followed behind. “Thank you Sammy.” You smiled, dropping down and getting water from the fridge. Danny had started preparing the pancakes for the three of you.

“So, why did you want to rush out of there so quickly?” Sam poked at you, you shook your head. “Honestly I was just tired and hungry. Nothing more, nothing less.” You smiled at him, “You’re not lying are you?” He gave you a look. “No, I’m not lying Sam.” You smiled trying to convince him hoping it worked.

After some time Danny finished making pancakes calling you all to eat. In which you indulge in all of the food that you could. And finally deciding to lay on the couch. Danny had already cleaned the kitchen up and went to bed. Leaving you and Sam in the living room. “Sam?” “Yeah bug?” You giggled at the nickname, “Do you think it's wrong to have feelings for someone that practically hates you? Or tends to show no interest?” You sighed playing with your fingers. “I mean, I guess it depends. I feel it’s different for everyone. Personally, I don’t think it's entirely wrong. But do you really want to put your feelings on someone who might not remotely feel the same?” He looked over at you. “Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

“Listen, we’re both trashed. Don’t overthink it, just get some sleep bug.” He hugged you tightly before getting up. “Goodnight.” “Goodnight Sam.” You smiled and pulled the blanket over your body and drifted to sleep.

12:07pm

You heard your phone going off, waking you up. Checking your phone it was Sam letting you know he and Danny had to head to the studio to work on some music. You got up from the couch folding the blanket and setting it over the armrest. You decided since it was Saturday you had the day to catch up on some laundry and get ready for tonight’s festivities. Another party of course on the agenda. This time the party was at your friend Amelia’s house. You luckily lived in the apartment complex down the road from Sam and Danny, so you could walk home.

Once you arrived home, you decided to take a shower first. Then afterwards you started on your laundry and catching up on simple house chores turning your bluetooth speaker on to play music. “Hey Siri, play throwback playlist.” Within a minute your speaker was playing music. The first song being She’s Not Afraid by One Direction.

You were dancing around your apartment cleaning, jamming out to your favorite music.

She’s not afraid of all the attention!

She’s not afraid of running wild!

How come she’s so afraid of falling in love?

She’s not afraid of scary movies

She likes the way we kiss in the dark

But she’s so afraid of falling in love

Moments later your phone was going off. It was Amelia calling you.

“Hey!”

“Hey Y/N! What time are you heading over tonight?”

“I mean if you want me to, I can be over around 6 to finish getting ready.”

“Perfect! Everyone’s coming over around 7 or 8. And I invited the guys. Hope that’s not an issue?”

“No, that’s perfectly fine…”

In reality it wasn’t. It just means you would have to deal with Jake’s presence.

“Okay! Well I’ll see you in a couple hours babes!”

“See you then.”

After hanging up, you decided to text Sam to update him that you wouldn’t need a ride tonight to Amelia’s. Once your chores were done you decided to eat a quick meal then catch up on some of your assignments. You had been taking extra classes to hopefully graduate in the spring of 2020. But with taking the extra classes it was kicking you in the ass. What seemed like an hour, two hours had passed. Finally finishing your assignments, you decided to take a nap before heading out for another long evening.

5:40pm

You had woken up from your nap gathering your bag together to stay over at Amelia’s, and to get ready at her place.

“I’ll be over in like 15.” You messaged Amelia before finishing up grabbing your things and getting into your vehicle to head over. Parking your car in her driveway you get out and walk into her house.

“Amelia?” You yelled through the house as you entered. Then you heard footsteps from upstairs. “Y/N!! You’re here. Come upstairs I need help picking an outfit.” You giggled and followed behind her. “Is Jake going to be here tonight?” You were hoping that he wouldn’t be, but a part of you also wanted him to be there. “Yeah! I’m really hoping one of these outfits will make him notice me.” She responded to you biting her lip. You gave a fake smile, it stung. Hearing that come out of her mouth. “Yeah, this one should woo him over…” You pointed to a black short dress. “I knew it.” She giggled and went to change into it.

After Amelia had changed and done her makeup you decided to change into your red short dress that made your breasts pop out a little more than normal. Maybe in hopes to get some sort of attention. And did your makeup with a light glam look. You straightened your hair to make it easier for yourself. “How do you think I look?” You turned towards Amelia. “I think you look hot! Definitely gonna get Sam’s attention…” She giggled softly, you looked at her. “I’m sorry, what?” You snorted at the thought of you and Sam ever hooking up. “Sam… Come on Y/N… Do you not see how he looks at you?” She shook her head laughing softly.

“No… Because Sam and I would never be together, he's like a little big brother to me.” You were older than both Danny and Sam by a couple months. “Well, I don’t think he sees it that way.” She rubbed your shoulder. “Well, let's forget it. People are going to be showing up any minute, let’s be prepared.” You nodded and followed behind her downstairs.

Hours go by and the house is filled with bodies. You only knew a handful of people, where the rest it was all new faces. But you hadn’t seen the 4 usual faces just yet. ‘Where could they be?’ You thought to yourself, grabbing yourself another drink. The drinks were definitely hitting tonight, and you’ve only had about 4, but you didn’t care.

“Jake!” You heard Amelia squeal, making you turn your head. Behind Jake was the rest of the guys, they looked like they had hit another party before this one. You looked at Jake checking him out, watching him snake his arm around Amelia. You looked down, chugging your drink, before grabbing another. You had made eye contact with Jake as you were grabbing another, making you spill it a little. “Nice going.” He chuckled while walking past you with Amelia.

“Hey Y/N!” Sam came into the kitchen hugging you, with the other two behind him. “Hi guys.” You smiled softly to them. “Alright! What’s your drink of choice? Salty dogs? Margaritas? Or just beer?” You smiled, acting like a little bartender for the boys. “The usual.” They said in unison, grabbing them their drinks. “You guys have to catch up with me, I'm on my 5th one.” You giggled, preparing shots as well for all of you to take. “I think we can do that.” They all laughed taking their shot raising them to make a toast before drinking them.

“So what’s up with Amelia and Jake?” Danny asked you, you looked over at the two of them dancing in the living area. “Honestly not sure… Probably just another screw in Jake’s eyes. And Amelia is too dumb to see.” You snorted, “And she’s my friend… And she’s clueless to the type of guy he is.”

“I’m sure she’ll find out one way or another…” Danny bit his lip then took a sip of his drink. “Come on! Let’s go dance!” You smiled, pulling Danny’s arm out to dance. Sipping on your drink you danced like a goof with Danny. The song Memories came on by David Guetta, “Oh my god! Sam! Get your ass out here!” You giggled finishing the rest of your drink. Sam ran out, starting to dance with you and Danny.

All the crazy shit I did tonight

Those will be the best memories

I just wanna let it go for the night

That would be the best therapy

All the crazy shit I did tonight

Those will be the best memories

I just wanna let it go for the night

That would be the best therapy

You guys started jumping around giggling and laughing singing along. “Hey, hey!” You sang, “Yeah, yeah!” Danny and Sam chimed in. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two.” You smiled hugging them both jumping around. You caught in the corner of your eye, Jake and Amelia were making out. Causing your blood to boil. Why am I feeling this way? It’s not like Jake is interested, he made it clear just last night.

“Hello, earth to Y/N!” Sam was snapping his fingers in front of your face, waking you from your daz. “Sorry, what was that?” You looked at him, “If you would stop drooling over my brother for a second and listen. You would’ve heard me.” He started to laugh, you smacked his arm softly. “I was not drooling over your brother. I would never.” You gave a look, “Okay, okay. Anyways, we have been working on the new album!” He smiled at you, “Oh Sam, that's amazing!!” You hugged him tightly.

“Yeah! You’re like one or the first I’ve told.” He smiled looking at you. “Well you guys have been writing for some time. So I figured it would happen sooner or later.” You smiled, “I’m gonna go use the ladies room. So excuse me for a bit.” You squeezed between him and Danny making your way upstairs, trying not to stumble on the way up.

While you were in the bathroom you heard giggling on the other side of the door. Probably Amelia and Jake. What the fuck do I do now? You were kind of stuck, but didn’t want to be in the bathroom forever.

Once you opened the door Jake came stumbling in. “Shit…” He muttered, “Oh great…” You rolled your eyes. “Well hey there darlin’.” He smirked, straightening himself out. “Don’t darlin’ me.” You tried to walk out but were stopped by him. “Woah, hold up now. Why are you in such a rush? I’m sure Sammy boy can wait.” He chuckled, you sucked on your teeth. “Aren’t you too busy sucking face with Amelia?” You snarled back.

“Sounds like someone is jealous.” He bit his lip, “What makes you think that?” You looked at him, “I’ve seen the looks you’ve been giving all night. Don’t play dumb.” He ran his hand down to your waist. “I think you’re confusing me for someone else.” You giggled trying to play dumb. “No… I saw the way you were looking at me.” He smirked, moving his hand up to your face forcing you to look at him. “So cut the shit.” You looked at him with doe eyes. “Oh Jakey… What does she have that I don’t?” You smirked under his grip.

“She ain’t got a thing on you.” He eyed you up and down, “May I?” He asked, moving his hand to your cheek. You nodded, “I need a verbal answer Y/N.” He looked at you, “Yes Jake.”

That’s when it happened, his lips crashed against yours. Moving in sync, you taste the liquor off his lips. But you didn’t care, you moved your hands around his neck pulling him closer to you. As he moved his hands down to your waist, he moved you into the bathroom kicking the door closed behind him. You smiled against his lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned into his mouth starting to unbutton the rest of his shirt. He started to push your dress up. Suddenly he picked you up sitting you on the counter, kissing down your neck leaving a trail of marks. “J-jake…” You moaned out running your hands up to his hair tugging slightly. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear my name leaving your mouth like that…” He growled kissing your lips again as he ran over the core of your panties feeling how wet you already were.

“All for me?” He smirked rubbing his fingers against your panties, you nodded your head. “Ah, what did I say darlin?” “All for you Jake. Now please, just fuck me.” You moaned out, begging for more. “I just want to play with you a bit more, baby… Hold on.” He moved your panties to the side collecting your silk with his digits he licked them. “So sweet…” He smirked, and inserted two digits pumping them slowly into you. “F-fuck…” You cried out, gripping his arm. Jake kept pumping them into you, using his thumb to rub your clit.

Your head tilted back from the pleasure, you could feel your core tightening around his fingers. “Oh, Jake… I’m close.” “Come on baby, make a mess on my fingers.” He kissed your lips, pumping his fingers faster, curling them to bring you over the edge. And sure enough you came undone under his touch. He then removed his fingers making you open your mouth to suck on them, and which you follow. “Good girl.” He smirked, then removed his fingers from your mouth to bend you over the counter.

He was undoing the buckle to his pants, and moving them down to his thighs. He then pulled your panties off of you, throwing them god knows where. He ran his hard cock against your slit. “You ready?” “Yes.” You looked at him through the mirror. He smirked and slowly entered you, stretching you out inch by inch. Jake was relatively big, a moan escaped your lips once he was all the way in. “Keep going…” You bit your lip, and he listened to you. He started to pick up the pace holding onto your hips.

“Fuck.” He muttered out as he kept thrusting into you, you could see his hair falling in front of his face in the mirror. You moaned out again, reaching back to hold onto his arm. “Look at how pretty you are when I’m fucking you.” He smirked using his one hand to hold your face up to look at the two of you in the mirror. “Only for you Jake…” You bit your lip, “Only for me.” He grunted as his thrusts became slower and deeper.

“Oh right, t-there…” You cried out, reaching down to rub your clit. You were almost there again, and pretty sure he was almost there too. His thrusts became a little bit sloppier, “I want you cum Jake…” You looked back at him, he gripped your hips pressing his fingers into them. “Where at princess?” He kept thrusting into you, “Inside…”

He nodded his head as it tilted back, he kept thrusting into you. His last couple thrusts were hard and long bringing you over the edge, as you came he twitched and coated your walls. “Fuck…” He moaned out, he stayed in there for a moment before pulling out. Once he pulled out he grabbed a cloth running it under warm water to help clean you up then himself. You found your underwear putting them back on.

Jake was finishing pulling his pants up and buckling them. “You should exit first so it doesn’t look so suspicious.” He said sternly. There it was, asshole Jake.

“Oh so we’re just gonna act like none of this happened?” You questioned him, “What? Did you think you were gonna get a relationship out of this?” He laughed softly, “You’re a fucking dick.” You opened the door walking out slamming it shut. You walked into the kitchen grabbing a drink.

“Woah there! Looks like someone pissed you off.” Josh chuckled. “Yeah… Someone did piss me off.” You bit your lip pouring yourself a drink. “Let me guess… Jake?” He raised an eyebrow. “Ding, ding.” You huffed, “Just Jake being Jake.” You rolled your eyes, “As always…” Josh took a shot, then grabbed a beer. “Screw him, he just doesn’t know how great you are.”

You nodded your head sipping on your drink. “Honestly, I shouldn’t worry about him. Let’s just dance.” You smiled as Josh grabbed your hand to pull you to the floor to dance. If there was a way to piss Jake off, it was to piss him off by giving Josh all your attention.

“Sam told me you guys are working on the new album…” You smiled at Josh, “Yes! We are, it’s very exciting.” Josh smiled at you, sipping his beer. You started to dance with Josh, keeping an eye out for Jake. Josh danced with you, with his goofy little moves. Sharing laughs and jokes, you didn’t even notice that Jake had been watching you with Josh.

You then placed your hand on Josh’s arm as he placed his on your waist pulling you closer to him as the two of you continued to dance. You could see Jake tense up from where he was sitting, ignoring all those around him. You smirked and got closer to Josh, you could practically kiss him if you wanted. Next thing you know Josh kissed you. You were taken back by it, but then kissed him back.

‘What are you doing?’ ‘Are you nuts?’ Then you pulled away, “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t.” Josh was hushed by you, “No. It’s okay. I just wasn’t expecting that…” You blushed, you could see Jake was pissed. He stormed past the two of you almost knocking Josh over. “What the fuck Jake!” He yelled at him, “Don’t worry about it, I'm sure Amelia will handle him…” You giggled, “I’m gonna head out…” Josh said to you, “Oh… Okay.” You let go of him, “I’m sorry again…” He was flustered and walked out.

‘What the fuck is happening?’ You are confused with all these emotions. The twins? You can’t bring them all into your mess. How else could you try and avoid it, they talk all the time. Feel each other's emotions and everything. What if Jake tells Josh about you two? ‘Fuck!’ The only thing you knew you had to do at this moment was leave the party. It would be for your own good at this point…

[moonchildreads]

small town

Chapter 12 - Fortress Around Your Heart

IN THIS CHAPTER: A mysterious card, allergy pills, and Wayne conspires against his nephew [7.1k]

WARNINGS: eddie being a lil sick (nothing serious), vague mentions of financial hardship

A/N: a huge shout out and thank you to two of my fairy godmothers and biggest cheerleaders, my beloved @justahappycloud and my loveliest @gutterratt for vibechecking wayne's dialogue in this chapter. it takes a village to build a small town! i love you both, deeply, madly, truly.

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

And if I built this fortress around your heart Encircled you in trenches and barbed wire Then let me build a bridge

Tuesday, May 6th - 1986

Five days. Five days without a single drop of rain. Not a light shower, not a thunderstorm, not a drizzle in sight, and Dottie felt like she was losing her goddamned mind. Before moving to Hawkins, she was sure she dreaded rainy days; New York smelled like a sewer, the subway was muggy as hell, and she was perpetually tired of people bumping their umbrellas into her head when she walked home from school. But rainy days in Indiana? Absolute bliss. She’d gotten so used to the fresh smell of wet soil, to sitting on her window seat with a book, a moody record playing in the background, thunder rumbling and lulling her to sleep. Rainy days meant driving home with Eddie and Gareth, huddling under tin roofs with Jeff for warmth while Donny smoked a cig, sharing a hand-knitted blanket with her Dad while they consumed anything and everything that was on TV after dinner. Rain was comforting and homey, and as the weather continued to get warmer and humidity levels kept climbing, she couldn’t wait until that night’s forecasted thunderstorm to hit the small town she had grown to love in only a couple of months. Eddie, on the other hand, was once more contemplating on moving to the middle of the desert and never having to see a raindrop again in his life.

“Man, you look like shit,” Gareth said, sliding into his usual seat at their lunch table.

“I’ve been telling him to go to the nurse since second period but you know how he is,” Donny shook his head disapprovingly.

“I don’t need to go to the nurse,” Eddie told him, accepting the sandwich Donny was offering so Eddie would share his chocolate covered peanuts with him in return. “It’s just allergies.”

“I think I have allergy meds in my locker if you want some,” Dottie said.

“Why do you always have pills on you? Are you a fuckin’ pharmacist or what?” Gareth teased her.

“Okay, asshole, next time all those weird fumes in the lab give you a headache, get your own painkillers,” she said, pushing his lunch tray away from him and down the table, just barely out of his reach.

“D’you really think they’ll help? Your meds?” Eddie asked, finally caving in, eyes squinting under the fluorescent cafeteria lights.

“I mean, I’m not a doctor, but it’s worth a try. They make you really sleepy though, so maybe take them after school?”

“Okay,” he rubbed his eyes with two fists. “I’ll take them when we get home.”

During the past couple of years, Eddie had developed this random allergy that seemed to get progressively worse whenever the weather changed. As the air was becoming more and more oppressive with the kind of humidity one forgets could be experienced after the colder months, Eddie was more often than not showing up to school with red eyes that had nothing to do with the weed he liked to indulge in after hours. Eating his sandwich and peanuts without really tasting anything because of how clogged his sinuses were, he considered stealing a wad of toilet paper to survive his upcoming Biology lesson after depleting Dottie’s generous stash of tissues during their back-to-back shared periods before lunch. The skin on the sides of his nose was becoming raw and red from blowing it so many times, and his head felt like it was stuck inside a bucket, his ears sensitive to loud noises and his throat scratchy.

By the time the final bell had rung and they were driving towards his trailer, Dottie theorized he might have developed a cold last Saturday morning when his water heater had died on him mid shower. Thankfully, Wayne was nothing if not resourceful and had gotten it up and running again that same day, but if Eddie had really gotten sick from washing himself with freezing water, there was little anyone could do except wait for the illness to pass on its own.

“Boy, you look like shit,” Wayne said from his armchair, watching his nephew shrug off his coat as he stepped into the trailer.

“Thanks, Wayne, hadn’t noticed,” Eddie replied dryly.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Dottie started guiding him towards his room.

“No! No, you can’t go in there,” he immediately blocked her path, arms braced on the walls of the small hallway to stop her from marching on.

“Ed, I don’t care if it’s mes-”

“It’s not- I mean, it is a mess but-” he blubbered, watching her cross her arms and cock her hip to the side in defiance. “Nuh-uh, nope, can’t have you seeing that shit right now. No way.”

“Eddie.”

“You can’t argue with a sick man, princess, that’s illegal.”

“God, you’re-,” she threw her hands in the air, exasperated. “Fine, have it your way. Go sit on the couch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he conceded, sinking into the cushions next to Wayne who was very amused by the entire situation but had the decency to act like he wasn’t paying attention. “Where do you keep your stash?”

“There’s a hidden pocket at the back, look for small round yellow pills.”

Dottie busied herself rinsing a mug in the kitchen sink and filling it up with water from a pitcher that was in the fridge while he snooped around her belongings, her brown corduroy backpack pulled into his lap. He was taking a couple of notebooks out to get better access to the small concealed zipper sewn onto the back panel when a baby pink envelope fell from one of them, landing next to his ratty sneakers. Always a curious one, Eddie picked it up, instantly noticed red hearts on the glossy paper inside and hurried to put it back where it had fallen from before she could catch him being nosy.

Trying to focus back on his initial task, he began rifling through the contents of the pocket, pulling out of a waterproof pouch that held various types of pills and tiny plastic bottles. He would have asked what they were for, always eager to know more about Dottie, but his brain was stuck in a constant loop of questions. Was that a love letter? Does she know who it’s from? There weren’t any names on it, is it a secret admirer situation? Why wouldn’t she tell me? Is it-

“Here you go,” she kneeled on the carpet next to his feet, pushing the plastic McDonald’s mug into his line of sight. “Did you find them?”

“Uh- yeah, these ones?” he asked, shaking a blister with pills that matched the description she’d given, making them rattle.

“What’s that?” Wayne asked, pretending like he hadn’t noticed his nephew having a mild stroke in front of his very eyes by the mere sight of an envelope.

“My allergy meds,” Dottie explained, resting an arm on Eddie’s knees. “I get really sniffly when seasons start changing so I thought maybe they’d help with Eddie’s too. I take those once a day when it starts acting up, and then I also have a nasal spray. I used to have two different ones, but I ran out of the prescribed one and haven’t replaced it yet.”

“You take a lot of pills, kid?” the older man said, curious.

“I try not to ‘cause I’ve heard it’s bad, like the bugs build resistance to the drugs or something? But I was a babysitter so I got used to carrying stuff around. Can’t really look after a screaming toddler if I’ve got a sudden headache, you know?” she explained before turning to look up at her friend. “You can keep those if you want, I’ve got a ton at home. They’re cheaper than a doctor’s appointment.”

“Thanks,” he said, staring at the blister. There were only three pills missing, and one of them was currently inside his body. “D’you wanna get started on homework?”

“We can take a day off if you’re not feeling well.”

“No, no, I’m okay. I can work on my drawings, I guess? Something that doesn’t require a lot of thinking would be great right now.”

“Okay, but you’re definitely gonna need a nap in about an hour,” she patted his knee and got up from the floor, moving to sit next to him before busying herself with her own work.

“I’m gonna go make some soup,” Wayne announced, shuffling into the kitchen before muttering to himself. “See if that saves us a visit to the doctor’s office.”

Wayne Munson was a simple man with simple needs. He considered himself lucky in the sense that he’d always had a roof over his head, and he’d always been able to provide for those he loved, fancy cooking be damned. He didn’t need three course meals or top of the line equipment to make his boy feel better as long as he knew how to make a good chicken rice soup, just like the one his mother used to make. They might not have lived in a real house with a big backyard and a bedroom for both, but as long as his meals were warm, his beers were cold and Eddie was smiling, it was enough for him.

He’d always thought of his nephew as a happy kid, one that chose to see the best in everything even when life had dealt him shitty card after shitty card, but Wayne had to admit that in the twelve years he’d been responsible for Eddie, he had never seen him act the way he did when Dottie was around. The youngest Munson was a ball of energy, always gesticulating wildly, not knowing how to control his own voice whenever he got going, leg perpetually bouncing when he was quiet. It was strange to see how subdued he was whenever his newest friend was around, and even more so considering she could also be loud and animated when given the opportunity. There was a gentle quality to their interactions, as if they were both toeing an invisible line that separated them, wishing the other one would cross it first but being afraid of overstepping.

As the old man leaned to get a couple of carrots that desperately needed to be eaten from the bottom of the fridge, he noticed once again the water pitcher on the door. He had never once seen Eddie choose water over any kind of cheap soda he could get his hands on, and yet this ancient plastic pitcher that hadn’t been used in years had somehow found its way into their fridge when Dottie started hanging out at the trailer. Wayne had only known the girl for a few short days, but felt that their shared time had already been enough to form a strong opinion. He liked Dottie. He liked how she was simultaneously polite but quick to make herself at home, how she was always helping around just because she wanted to and not because anyone asked her to, how everything she did came with a heap of kindness. He liked how she kept up with Eddie’s humor, how they calmed each other down, how she made him smile and want to try harder. And perhaps, above all, he liked how easily she dissipated Eddie’s fears of not being enough. Wayne loved the boys in the Hellfire Club, he really did, but he knew that his nephew compared himself to them, with their loving families, their houses in residential neighborhoods, their homemade lunches that did not consist of leftovers or whatever snack was left in the pantry.

The eldest Munson wasn’t one to pry, but he knew something was different with Dottie when she showed up on Monday with a handful of coupons from that day’s newspaper. “Ed said he likes mushrooms and my Dad can’t eat them without getting sick so I brought you these. I hate when coupons go to waste. Do you like mushroom soup, Mr. Wayne?” she had asked. It might have been an assessment made with personal bias, but Wayne was certain that no kid who didn’t go through any financial turmoil in their lives could be so into couponing that they hated not using them before their expiration date.

Around 45 minutes after Eddie took his medicine, his speech started to slur and his eyes kept trying to close themselves no matter how hard he fought to keep them open.

“Time for a nap, sleepy head,” Dottie pushed his thigh with her sock-clad foot.

“M’fine, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he said, and immediately yawned.

“You were saying?”

“Ugh, fine. Jus’ a short nap, gotta get you home,” he muttered, tucking himself into the couch cushions.

“Ed, you need to rest if you want to get better,” she insisted, pulling him onto his feet with her hands on his wrists. “That means sleeping in your bed, not on the couch.”

“Room’s dirty,” he said, standing on wobbly feet. “Don’ wan’ you to look.”

“Okay, I won’t look. I swear.”

Satisfied with a promise that she obviously did not intend to keep, Eddie let her lead him towards his room at the other end of the trailer. Nothing could have prepared her for what she saw when she opened the door. It was like his closet had exploded onto the floor, clothes strewn everywhere, no indication as to which ones were clean and which ones were not. His bed was unmade and his bedsheets were rumpled into a ball in the middle of the mattress, an overflowing ashtray sat on his bedside table and a thin sheen of dust covered the objects he clearly did not use very often. Dottie helped him shrug his hoodie off and helped him get comfortable under his blankets, already making a list of things she could straighten up without waking him up once he was safely on his way to DreamLand. He turned to his side and coughed a few times.

“I’ll get you some water,” she said, but before she could stand, he shot out a hand to grab her wrist.

“No, stay,” he muttered. Dottie was very familiar with the particular kind of drowsy associated with her allergy meds and knew that he was somewhere between awake and completely unconscious. He was gonna be out like a light in a few if she had her math right. “M’legs feel weird.”

“They feel heavy?” he nodded. “Go to sleep, silly. You’re gonna feel better when you wake up.”

“Okay,” was the last thing he said before his eyes finally closed and his breathing evened out.

Dottie knew it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t help but stare at him for a few moments as he slept. He looked so peaceful, his long eyelashes almost touching the top of his cheeks, soft freckles decorating his skin. He didn’t move when she stood up, didn’t even flinch when she tucked his hair behind his ear and pulled the covers up higher. Surveying the room around her, she spotted a white plastic bag underneath his desk and quickly retrieved it, starting to clean up some of his mess. First thing to go into the bag were the cigarette butts; then the few cans lying around, the crumpled snack wrappings and pencil shavings on his desk. She was in the middle of picking up a denim jacket strewn on his desk while suppressing a snort at the busted handcuffs hanging from the wall - and oh, did she want to ask about them some time -  when she noticed a black shadow hovering above her head.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered to herself, recognizing instantly what it was.

In the corner of Eddie’s room, displayed like a piece of art, was the most likely cause of his long-lived allergies: black mold. Dottie could have kicked herself at not paying attention when she walked in; the stain was so big she wondered how she had missed it in the first place. Immediately remembering her Uncle Johnny’s retelling of his encounter with black mold behind an old broken washing machine back in ‘69, she looked back at Eddie wondering if he would listen if she told him to get rid of it. Judging by the state of his bedroom, he wouldn’t, so she steeled herself for what was possibly gonna be a very awkward conversation and hoped to the stars she’d come out on the other side as a victor.

“Mr. Wayne?” she asked, stepping back into the main area of the trailer. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t want to be disrespectful but did you know there’s mold in Eddie’s bedroom?”

“Yeah,” he scratched his head, lowering the fire on the stove to let the soup simmer. “Been tellin’ Ed he should clean that up but you know how he is. I think the only reason he listened when I told him to patch up the roof was so it wouldn’t rain on that fancy guitar of his.”

“Sounds like Eddie,” she smiled. “In any case, if he’s not gonna do it himself, would you be okay with me cleaning it up for him? I think that’s what’s causing his allergies and he could get very sick if he keeps breathing that stuff in.”

“Don’t know what my nephew has told you but you are a guest here, not a maid,” Wayne said, pointing with his head at the trash bag in her hand.

“I’m a friend,” she said, like it was the simplest fact known to man. “This is what friends do for each other. They help out, even if they are as stubborn as Eddie. Especially when they are as stubborn as Eddie.”

“Don’t I know that,” he snorted, his features softening. “He can be hard to be around sometimes, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Yeah, he does. I can see where he gets it from.”

Wayne liked to think of himself as a man of few but intentional words. As he looked at the young girl in front of him, he realized that they both knew exactly what was happening in this conversation and they were both on the same page. Eddie didn’t often ask for help; in fact, help was almost always simply thrust upon him disguised as a nonchalant act or a trade, and the eldest Munson knew that this request was as much for his nephew as it was for Dottie. He stirred the soup for a few seconds, and finally set down his wooden spoon.

“Y’know he’s gonna get mad when he sees what you did.”

“I’d rather deal with an angry Ed than have him start coughing up blood,” Dottie said. “But I won’t do it if it bothers you. This is your home and I’m aware I’m overstepping just by asking about it.”

“Well, it’s like you said, right? Friends help out,” he shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting into half a smile. “So what do you need?”

“I just need him out of the trailer for an hour. He’s not gonna let me do it otherwise, he didn’t even want me in there in the first place.”

“I’ll get him out of your hair, don’t worry ‘bout it. Need a ride home?”

“Oh, no, thank you. You’re busy with dinner, I can ask my Dad to pick me up if you let me borrow your phone for a second.”

“All yours, kid,” he pointed behind her to where the phone was hanging from and went back to his cooking.

Fifteen minutes later, Wayne was in the middle of explaining his soup recipe to Dottie when a car horn interrupted their talk. The older man walked her outside and waved at James, who waved back at him from the front seat of his car.

“Tell Ed I said bye!” she said, skipping down the front steps to the trailer.

“Bye, Dot. See you on Thursday,” he said, resting an arm on the door frame. “Say hi to your dad for me.”

Dottie stopped at the last step for half a second before hurrying up the stairs again and wrapping her arms around the eldest Munson with a bright smile on her face. She squeezed him tightly before letting go, her expression sincere and yet a little bit embarrassed.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne. See you on Thursday,” was all she said, before disappearing into her dad’s car and leaving down the dirt road.

He watched them leave, sitting on his doorstep and fishing a cig out of the front pocket of his work shirt. He chuckled to himself after taking the first drag, thinking about his nephew taking a nap in his room, about the black stain he kept telling him to clean up to no avail, and about the girl who refused to take no for an answer. About how there was definitely something different about Dorothy Burke, and how maybe, just maybe, what separated her from all the other kids her age was exactly what made her so similar to Eddie after all.

Wednesday, May 7th - 1986

Hawkins High’s library wasn’t as big as her former school’s library, but had so far proved sufficient enough for all her researching needs. Thus, Dottie found herself perusing the Home Economics section after claiming to need a book for an essay, resorting to little white lies in the hopes that Eddie wouldn’t look too much into them. He seemed to be in brighter spirits that day, still sniffling and occasionally coughing into his elbow, but his eyes were less swollen and teary with the help of his newly acquired allergy meds. Still, Dottie insisted (perhaps a bit too much, but he wasn’t about to fight her about it) that he take a nap during their shared free period in an effort to get back to full health as quickly as possible. He didn’t even think about how unusual it was for her to even suggest it before resting his head on his balled up jacket, arms folded on top of their secluded table at the back of the room.

“Do you need any help, sweetie?” Mrs. James, the school’s librarian, said, startling Dottie from her trance scanning the table of contents in what looked to be yet another useless book. “You’ve been going through every shelf in this section, maybe I can help you find what you need?”

“Oh, thank you, I didn’t think to ask,” Dottie smiled at the old lady. “I’m trying to do some research on mold and I’m stumped.”

“Mold? Why, I think you ought to be looking in the science section then! Is this for a Biology class? Maybe you can ask Mr. Brooke if he has any recommendations.”

“Actually, I was looking into mold removal for Home Ec? You know, like in old houses or bathrooms!”

“Hmmm, can’t say I recall any books like that off the top of my head but let me check. There must be something about home repairs somewhere,” she walked away towards the front desk, muttering to herself.

Dottie followed her into the main area of the library, always keeping an eye on the path towards the table where Eddie was resting upon, blissfully unconscious and unaware of his surroundings. Mrs. James rummaged through a set of drawers full of neat cards, nodded once and promptly disappeared through a back door behind her desk. Dottie waited, her hopes dwindling as she stared at the clock on the wall counting down the minutes until the bell rang.

She was distracted, rapping her chipped sparkly red nails on the wooden surface in front of her when she felt a weight settle across her shoulders, and smelled her sleepy friend before she even saw him. Eddie’s clothes generally had faint traces of smoke hidden behind Old Spice after shave, generously applied cheap woodsy cologne and gentle laundry detergent, his battle vest adding a hint of pungent weed to the mix. She had only noticed a few days prior that his hair always smelled like green apple in the mornings, most likely thanks to his predilection of showering as a way of waking himself up. Dottie knew that if it had belonged to anyone else, she wouldn’t have found the mix of aromas as charming as she did - she thought of it as a side effect of that newly discovered pesky little crush she consciously chose not to dwell too much about.

“Well, that was a hell of a nap,” he muttered into her hair, voice and limbs still heavy with sleep.

“And you woke up on your own before the bell rang, I’m impressed,” she said.

“So… what are we waitin’ for?”

“Mrs. James is looking something up for me in the back, you can wait at the table if you want.”

“Nah, I’m cozy,” he said, putting all his weight onto her shoulders, her knees wobbling a little bit before she caught herself on the desk.

Dottie was sure he’d dozed off while standing up and the way he jumped when the bell rang didn’t really convince her otherwise. It was still ringing when Mrs. James reappeared from wherever she had been hiding in her backrooms, a small book with a bit of a lengthy title in white letters at the front. She waved it around as if it were a valuable carnival prize.

“I’m not sure it’ll be of much help, but I think it’s the closest you’ll find here,” she admitted. “Just sign this, you can fill in the rest when you return it. You don’t want to be late for class!”

“Thank you!” Dottie hurried to sign the form attached to a clipboard and tucked the book into her chest to hide the front from Eddie. “I’ll let you know if it helped.”

“Oh, please do! If it doesn’t, maybe you could check the local library? It’s much bigger than this one, I bet they’ll have what you need.”

“I will, thank you. I’ll bring this one back tomorrow, I promise.”

“You can keep it for a week, sweetie, don’t worry. Now go on, get to class you two!”

“Did you get the feeling she was trying to get rid of us or was it just me?” Eddie muttered, a sly smile on his face while they gathered their things and left the library.

“Just doing her duty in helping you to graduate, that’s all,” Dottie joked back, shoving her newly acquired book deep into her backpack.

“See you at lunch?” he said, walking backwards through the quickly emptying hallway.

“Of course! See ya!”

She watched him nod once and bolt towards his Latin class when the second warning bell rang. Dottie took a second to take a deep breath before walking into her World History classroom where Jeff was already waiting for her, his usual calm smile on his face. She really didn’t like hiding things from her friends, but since she only had Eddie’s benefit in mind, she hoped he wouldn’t be as pissed off as she feared he would be when he found out.

Gareth’s house had big windows on the west side that opened up to a medium sized backyard, thick green grass extending until the end of the property. His parents had debated on building a pool back when the kids were younger, but as it turned out, pools were much more expensive than what they were willing to spend at that moment. They had ended up getting a blow up pool that served its purpose perfectly for a few hot summers until Gareth crashed his bike into it at age 12 and punctured it.

Eddie felt marginally better than the day before and was looking forward to taking his second dose of allergy meds once he got home, but for now, he was content to tuck himself into his friend’s armchair and read through Jeff’s Biology notes. Besides, having the girl he was hard crushing on in his line of sight was always a plus. Dottie, on the other hand, wished Eddie would just fall the fuck asleep so she could skim her damn book without him noticing. Homeowner’s Quick-repair and Emergency Guide by Max Alth was still carefully hidden between her other possessions in her backpack when Jeff plopped down on the seat across from hers at the dining table.

“Heyyyy,” he said, awkwardly.

“Hey?”

“I, uh, I need advice on something but if you don’t wanna talk about it, just… tell me to fuck off, okay? I won’t hold it against you, I promise.”

“Okay?” Dottie stared at him like he had grown two heads overnight.

“So, I remember you mentioning you have a book about Victorian flower language?” he waited for her to nod in confirmation before continuing. “I was hoping you could tell me what to get, y’know, for Mother’s Day.”

“Oh! Of course, I’d love to help! What did you have in mind?” she smiled, understanding now where his hesitance was coming from.

“Just something nice, doesn’t really matter if it’s expensive. Bobby’s coming home, said he’s pitching in.”

“Aw, that’s cool. I’m sure your Mom will be happy to have both her boys home.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he shrugged. “Haven’t told him about Virginia yet, I’m kinda terrified he’s gonna get pissy about it and ruin the day for Mom. He can be… intense about the military stuff, even more than my Dad. It’s so annoying.”

“Well, that’s his own fucking problem,” she scoffed. “You didn’t do anything wrong, not your fault he can’t see you are not a kid anymore and can make your own choices. But never mind Bobby, we were talking about your Mom! I’ll bring my book to school tomorrow, we can look through it together if you want, find something cute.”

“That sounds great, thank you!” he smiled wide, his braces full on display. He couldn’t wait until he got them removed. “Are you… Like… Man, I don’t know if this is okay to ask-”

“Jeff, it’s okay,” she patted his hand across the table. “You can ask, I don’t mind.”

“I was just wondering if you celebrate or anything like that.”

“I do, in my own way.”

From his comfy spot on the couch, Eddie watched Dottie pull her backpack into her lap and rummage through her books, finding a baby pink envelope between them and sliding it over to Jeff with a shy smile. His heart rate picked up, could it be…? Was she showing him what she had received or was she giving it to Jeff? Maybe there had never been a secret admirer, maybe… maybe Dottie had always just liked Jeff and Eddie had been so far up his own ass he’d never noticed it before. And who could blame her? Jeff was kind, gentle in ways that Eddie couldn’t fathom being. He was going to a good college, had a bright future ahead of him, came from a nice family. He watched them talk; Dottie leaned over the table, pointing something out to him on the card. Jeff was polite, a fantastic singer, a great friend. One of Eddie’s best friends, actually. Fuck, I’m such an idiot, I can’t ruin this for them, I’m-

Jeff carefully put the card back into the envelope and gave it back to her, stopping to grab her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Eddie’s pulse returned somewhat to its normal rhythm when Dottie put the pink paper inside her backpack, tucked into the same spot she’d taken it out from. Donny got up from his spot on the floor, books forgotten, and slid himself into the chair next to Dottie’s, arm resting behind her. She leaned into his shoulder using his arm as a neck pillow, the three friends now engaged in animated conversation. Eddie caught a few words as their voices raised: the boys were trying to talk her into going to next week’s gig at The Hideout. He looked down at Jeff’s Biology notes resting on his thighs and ran a hand over his eyes. Everything was normal, nothing had changed, and yet everything felt different for him anyways.

Eddie had always been proud of his ability to hold his shit together no matter what. He considered himself an expert in bottling up, shoving things under the rug until they could no longer be seen. But this mystery card situation? It was absolutely messing him up. If he had discovered something about himself in the past two days, it was that even though he wasn’t a jealous asshole, he could still be a jealous man, and that knowledge embarrassed him to the bone. He didn’t like the way all his insecurities screamed at him whenever he compared himself to his best friends, detailing all his shortcomings and failures, constricting his chest and leaving him breathless. In his mad panic, a lone image of having to watch Dottie fall in love with someone else while he got left behind kicked him square in the chest.

Dottie turned her head to the side, looked at him sitting alone on the couch and beckoned him over with her hand, a soft smile gracing her features. He realized right there, as loud thunder cracked open the sky and the long awaited rain made its return to Hawkins, that he could take a step to the side if she needed him to. He would let her be happy with someone else, even if it was with one of his best friends. Even if it pained him to imagine it. But he also realized that Eddie Munson wasn’t going to go down without trying. Once they were alone tomorrow, he was gonna ask about the card and if her answer turned out to be less than favorable for him, he’d be supportive and encouraging. He would be a good friend, just like she’d always been to him. And most importantly, if she happened to choose Jeff, or Gareth, or Donny, he would never let it come between him and his band mates. All his friendships would remain intact, he would make damn sure of it. But he couldn’t quit before he tried.

Eddie joined them at the table, mirroring Donny’s position and letting his arm fall behind on Jeff’s chair. Jeff leaned into his shoulder and batted his eyes at him, clearly making fun of Dottie who chucked an eraser at his chest in response. Everything will work itself out, Eddie thought, watching Gareth pull up a chair to the table. We’ll be fine.

“Honey, can you set the table?” James called from the kitchen, hands busy finishing dinner.

“Yeah,” Dottie replied, barely loud enough for him to hear her.

James took the chicken out of the oven, setting it on the empty stove top and transferred it from the sheet pan to a more appropriate container that wouldn’t burn the surface of the wooden table when placed upon the tablecloth. He was adding the final touches to his roasted potatoes when he lifted his head and noticed his daughter hadn’t yet moved from her spot on the couch, legs dangling from the arm, book propped on her thighs. This wasn’t an unusual sight in the Burke household; Dottie had an affinity towards never sitting like a normal person, something that he’d always found extremely amusing. James leaned out of the passthrough window to call her attention again.

“Can Her Majesty please set the table today if she wishes to eat while it’s hot?”

“I’m coming, hold on,” she finally got up, book still in her hand and being held open by her thumb in the middle of the gutter.

“What are you reading?”

“Something I got from the school’s library. I think it’s a bust but it’s the only one they had on this topic.”

“What topic?” he asked, and Dottie lifted the cover so he could see. “Homeowner’s Guide? Did you buy a house I wasn’t aware of?”

“Yeah, you know that blue Victorian mansion on Morehead Street? Got it at a discount because someone got murdered in there,” Dottie said in a deadpan tone.

“You hate haunted houses but you’re gonna live in one?” he snorted, watching her come in and out of the kitchen to the living room carrying plates and cups with only one hand.

“Nah, I’m gonna fix it up and turn a profit.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, proudly.

Once they were seated at the dinner table, plates full and cheeks stuffed with homemade bread, Dottie went back to her reading, going back and forth from the table of contents to various pages she was marking with her fingers. This was also not unusual behavior coming from the teenager; James was very much used to her being absorbed in whatever she was reading at any given time, so much so that sometimes she’d make herself a snack or a cup of tea to enjoy while getting lost in her fantasy worlds and completely forget about it until hours later. He supposed he only had himself to blame for that, having encouraged reading since she had learned to sound out her own name. It was, however, extremely strange to see her this engrossed in non-fiction, particularly about a subject that she had never really shown much interest in before. She loved baking and cooking, sewing, knitting and doing various kinds of crafty things, but she’d never been curious about home repairs. Sometimes she’d wait for days until James changed a lightbulb for her, claiming she didn’t want to do it herself because she was probably gonna get electrocuted. James supposed that was also his fault, pampering his daughter so much that she had never really needed to learn how to do it in the first place.

“I’d like to talk with my daughter during dinner like a normal family, please,” he said, tapping the top of her book.

“Sorry, it’s… I’m doing research on mold removal and I’m getting nowhere,” she huffed, finally setting the offending pages aside and looking up at him. “This book sucks, can’t believe this guy’s advice for an intruder is to get a dog.”

“We’re not getting a dog.”

“Do you enjoy ruining my fun?”

“I signed a contract, it’s my duty as your Dad,” James grinned. “Why do you want to learn about mold removal?”

“Remember I told you about Eddie’s allergies? He has mold in his room, Wayne said I could clean it but I don’t really know how.”

“Wayne asked you to clean Eddie’s moldy room?”

“No, of course not!” she glared at her dad like he was insane for even suggesting it. “I asked for permission to do it. I’m worried about Eddie, he could get really sick if he keeps breathing that stuff in. I just- I wanted to do something nice for him, that’s all. He’s always driving me around and doesn’t let me pay him for gas, it feels like I’m taking advantage of him.”

“A good deed for a good deed?” James said, softening.

“I was thinking about it more like payment in kind.”

“And you said the book isn’t helping?”

“Nope,” she said, popping the P. “Not a single mention of mold but plenty on wasps.”

“Why don’t you ask Uncle Johnny? He cleaned up the mold behind the washer and it never came back, he might remember how he did it.”

“Huh, hadn’t thought of asking him. Thanks.”

After dinner, Dottie hurried to wash all the dishes before dialing a very familiar number she was sure she’d remember her entire life. Sat on one of the kitchen island stools, pompom pen in one hand and cord stretched to its limit, she heard the phone ring once, twice, thrice before someone picked up from the other side.

“Hello?”

“Hi Uncle Johnny, it’s me!”

“Hey tiny, how’s it going? How’s your Dad?” his voice was soft and warm just like it always was; Dottie could hear his smile in every word.

“Good, good, he’s taking a shower. I was actually calling because I need help with something important.”

“Uh oh, do you want me to get Mary Elizabeth?”

Johnny and Mary Elizabeth had gotten married the summer after Dottie turned five; she got to fulfill the role of flower girl at the modest but gorgeous wedding, stealing all the looks as she danced with her Dad all night and fell asleep before the cake was cut. The couple had been friends since their first year at college, but they had started dating only a year before Johnny proposed during a cheap last minute holiday in Vermont. They had the kind of relationship that made Dottie believe in true love: two best friends who supported one another through financial turmoil, illnesses, debts, and grief, and kept choosing each other every day despite the hardships. Every time she saw them, she hoped that someday she’d get as lucky as they did when they found each other.

“No, I need your expertise this time,” she said, twirling the stretched cord around her pen. “Remember when you got rid of that mold behind the washer? A friend of mine has a mold issue and I was wondering if you could tell me how to clean that up.”

“Hell yeah, I remember, that stuff was gross. Got something to take notes on?” he asked, getting comfy in his armchair back in New York.

Around fifteen minutes later, James popped into the kitchen in his pjs with a ball of dirty clothes under his arm. He stepped around the island and threw the pile into a half filled basket in the laundry room for him to sort out the next day while he listened to Dottie on the phone.

“What do you mean it’s toxic?” she asked, and crossed something in her notebook. “Oh, okay, I won’t. Yeah, I think so. Two. One might be stuck but I know the big one opens-” she paused, listening. “Great, I’ll do that then. Thank you so much! Yes, I’ll call you tomorrow. Okay. Okay, I’ll tell him you said that,” she rolled her eyes. “Bye, love you! Say hi to Mary Elizabeth and Rosie for me. Thank you again!”

“Everything okay?”

“He says that he saw that movie you told him to watch and it sucked.”

“I know. That’s why I told him to watch it,” James grinned. “Did he help with the mold thing?”

“Big time,” she said, her sly smile matching her Dad’s. “That ceiling is gonna look brand new when I’m done with it, I promise.”

taglist (let me know if you want me to add you!): @munsonology

[j0kers-light]

Y’all know I don’t care for Halloween but this snippet fic idea hit me on the 26th and I just had to write it.

Hope you enjoy how my brain works lol 🖤✨

A loud thud from the hallway stole your attention. You were by all accounts waiting for Joker to come home, diligently working on your laptop in the living room.

It was All Hallow's Eve and you weren't in the mood for the scary festivities that everyone in Gotham was excited for. You were tired of the jump scares and harmless tricks being pulled. You rolled your eyes whenever someone 'tried' to scare you and grabbed fistfuls of candy as your reward for being 'brave.'

You just wanted the night and this dumb holiday to be over with.

You had your favorite drink poured up and a good playlist going in the penthouse as you waited for J but you still heard the literal bump in the night.

You barely looked up from your keyboard. "Nuh uh not tonight Satan."

Whatever it was, it wasn't your concern and you weren't going to investigate and get yourself killed in the process.

A few more minutes passed uneventfully until the lights flickered. You looked at the ceiling in disdain. It wasn't thundering out and you paid your electrical bill.

"No ma'am.. no sir.. we ain't doing nooooooone of dat." You got up and rustled inside a side drawer until you found your storm candles and a lighter. And with good timing, because once they were lit, the power went out.

Your ancestors were not having it.

This was not a cheap Halloween movie where they kill off people of color in the first five minutes. You had no patience for this foolishness.

If something was haunting your house it better help pay the rent or sit down and act like it had some sense. You were making great strides with your wip tonight and you refused to be murdered.

Then you heard the same thud, much louder, drawing closer. It was followed by the sound of you name groaned out in agony. Nope nope nopeity nope. You did not mess with the paranormal.

You slapped your laptop closed, gathered your drink in hand, and was walking towards your bedroom, all in the same millisecond. Time for bed. It could kill you in your sleep for all you cared.

The nonchalant attitude you had must've angered the spirit for the second you walked past the source of the strange sounds, it tried to grab you.

And that where it made a mistake.

You dropped your glass, swung your laptop and connected with something solid before going in with straight kicks and punches. If you stopped and listened you would've heard its pleas for you to stop but your flight or fight instincts had kicked in. And you were fighting. Period.

You were still dropping kicking the poor spirit until it grabbed your ankle and dragged you down to the floor.

You didn't know spirits had physical forms but none of that mattered. It had enough and cried uncle, "Y/N IT'S ME!"

You recognized the voice instantly and stopped fighting.

"Joker? What the...." you found your laptop (cracked beyond repair) and opened the lid to let the soft glow shine in the dark hallway.

Joker ripped off the white sheet covering his body and clutched his head. His hair was sticking to his forehead from all the grease and sweat. "Geeez doll you got quite the uh.. left hook. Owwww.."

You smacked Joker upside the head again just because you could.

"Why are you creeping up on me wearing a dusty bedsheet?! Have you finally lost it?" He quickly replied a 'uh yeah' before you shot him an unamused glare.

"Its Halloooweeeeen Bunny. I wanted to uhh scare ya. Well. That didn't worK." J pouted while rubbing his sore jaw. That would hurt come morning. He watched you stand up with a wary eye, "Where ya going?"

You stood over him hands on your hips and a stern gaze. It was high time you gave him a piece of your mind.

"You of all people know better not to try and scare a person from Blüdhaven! We fight first, ask questions later! What's my least favorite holiday, J?" you demanded.

He looked away with another pout. "Halloween." He grumbled.

"Exactly! I don't play with that paranormal mess! Now you done made me break my laptop across your head head trying to defend myself. And you're buying me another one since its your fault sneaking up on me! On God, I was ready to lay you out Joker. You play too much!"

He didn't know whether to be guilty or to burst out laughing. Your Blüdhaven accent was coming out the more angrier you got and he loved when your native dialect slipped through the cracks. It was kinda hot...

An angry bunny was entertaining to watch and even better in bed.

You stomped over J to head towards your private bedroom and in doing so, his plans of seducing you vanished. You were not in the mood. You might actually suffocate Joker with a pillow if you slept in the same bed right now.

Joker was left alone in the hallway as your bedroom door slammed shut. He could still hear you grumbling to yourself even behind closed doors. Joker waited a few minutes before bursting out laughing.

He made a mental note to make you angry in the future. It was a fun way to end the hallowed night.

[elysia-nsimp]

Hi moots and whoever else sees this post

I’m flying out to see my buddy and I’m currently on layover. I just wanted to share what happened on my last plane because I am SO squishy and happy over it

So I draw when I’m on planes. I can’t ever sleep on them and there’s no internet (I’m not paying) so I just listen to downloaded playlists I have and I draw. Today was no different, I was drawing my persona in a new outfit.

I went up to go to the bathroom and when I came back, the people in the seats behind me were like “YOU! YOURE AMAZING” and the guy in the aisle seat offered me a fist bump. At first I did not get it but I picked up that they’ve been watching me draw for the entire flight and they’re absolutely floored by my art /pos

It made me SUPER happy. I showed them the lineart I finished and they were all commenting on how gorgeous the character is (made me feel nice because she looks a lot like me). So when I went to colour the piece I made sure my phone was angled so the people behind me could continue to watch. I don’t mind being watched while I draw and it made me happy that they were enjoying it.

I make it through most of my colouring before I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turn around and the guy in the aisle seat holds out a tiny origami crane made out of a dollar bill, he says it’s a thank you for letting them all watch me draw.

Im already giddy and happy as is but. This is literally the first time ive ever gotten MONEY from my art? I didn’t even give it away or anything, and it was only a dollar, but just the single dollar crane meant so much more to me than I think the guy who gifted it knows.

Anyway I finished colouring and I offered my phone to the three behind me and the girl in the middle seat borrowed it to go show the people sitting across from them what I was drawing, explaining I’ve been doing this the whole flight and they’ve been watching. She gave it back once like everyone in that row had witnessed my drawing and it absolutely made my day

As I got off the plane, one of the guys in the seats across from those people walked alongside me and he told me that my art is beautiful and that my style could make really beautiful tattoos. I stopped at the gate after he walked away to check where I was going next and the guy from the aisle seat walked up behind me and gave me a fist bump as the two girls waved before wandering off. He told me that with my artistic ability I should look into getting an ipad for drawing. Told me again that my art’s great before he walked off

I have NOT been able to wipe the smile off my face since all that happened, Its been like 20 minutes

Anyway here’s the crane I dunno if I even have it in me to spend it, I tucked it into my backpack. Maybe I’ll just display it as a tribute to this great memory

[offthefieldsmau]

⚽ 1.42

“First things first,” Ed said as he sat down on the bleachers. A local high school was nice enough to let them use their soccer field for practice and host games. Apparently SoCal took their youth soccer very seriously, “we need practice music.”

The kids, gathered around and grass-stain free (for now) had only just settled in before Ed herded them. He had brought the basics: a whistle, water (duh,) a clipboard with the roster, and of course: his portable speaker. 

“No team is ever truly complete without a fantastic warm up and victory playlist. And since it's your team,” Ed smiled, “you get to decide. Warmups should be fun, up-beat. Get your heart pumping, so shout ‘em out, I’ll add them in.”

Their Spotify playlist was open and ready. Songs started coming in rapid fire, however, and Ed didn’t know what he expected when it came to the musical prowess of 12 year olds:

“Old Town Road!” What?

“Call Me Maybe!” Okay, that one Ed knew.

“Get Low,” to which Ed looked up and laughed, “y’know, by—”

“Yeah, no, I know,” he amused, “But, you’re averaging 12 on this roster — I am not putting ‘Get Low’ on here.”

So their warmup playlist was curated, and Ed added a few of his own. Then, he stood to get practice started. But blond hair and brown eyes peered up at him, “What about the victory playlist?” 

Ed gave her a wicked smile, “You get a victory playlist,” he leaned in, “when you get a victory.” 

Alma rolled her eyes, “That makes no sense. We get our first victory and make a playlist on the spot? Where’s the preparation, coach?”

While Ed wanted to make a point about earning your wins, Alma had her own point made very easily. 

“Fair,” Ed thought for a second, “how about this; I will make your victory playlist, but you can’t hear it until your first win,” he held out his fist, “Do those meet your terms, Captain?”

Alma smiled up at him (happy with her win over Ed. Ed vowed future wins for Alma would be few and far between,) “Sounds good to me.” And she tapped his knuckles.

Ed sipped his coffee, reminded of the nervous smile Stede gave him when he handed it over, as he looked out at the field. It was a blur of neon socks and ponytails, but Ed was taking notes every few minutes. The first practice was really to get an idea for who can do what, how well they could do it, and just how much Ed could make them do. 

Turns out, 11-13 year olds were pretty resilient. 

As Ed jotted down a few more notes, looking away for only a second, he heard some noise on the field. His eyes found them just as his ear picked up a shout:

“—you’re dogshit! I bet you eat dogshit!”

Oh no. 

Ed was sprinting over to the kerfuffle: Alma and Maya were squaring off with two sandy-blond boys in matching blue jerseys (boys Ed certainly didn’t recognize.)

“Hey, what’s going on?” Ed asked his team. 

“These two ladies—”

Alma stepped forward and with all the terror a 13 year old could muster, dropped her voice low to say, “Don’t you dare call me a lady.”

Ed wanted to laugh. It took every ounce of strength to not bust up and let Alma hold her ground.

“You’re right, you’re certainly too repulsive to be one,” the other boy said. 

Ed was going to pop a blood vessel — so help him god. “Repulsive” — what kind of pre-teen used the word “repulsive?!”

“Boys, I’m sorry to break this up,” Ed sighed, peering down at all of them, “but we’re in the middle of practice.”

“If that’s what you want to call it,” one of them muttered. 

“I’m sorry,” Ed turned his attention to Thing 1 and gave a cursory glance to his clipboard, “I don’t see Tweedledee,” and he cocked his head at #2, “or Tweedledumb on my roster. Now leave my team alone, I’m sure there’s a bathroom needing to be gratified and you look like the perfect pair for the job.”

The boys looked up at Ed, scowling. They scoffed, they turned their glares to Alma and Maya (who were holding back their own laughter) and quickly left.

Alma stuck her fist out for Ed to bump, “That was cool.”

It's Warmup Playlist time! 🏴‍☠️❤️⚽🖤

[sonicfrontiers]

man sonic’s theme songs make me so stupidly happy. it really sucks that we haven’t gotten any since colors

[tiptapricot]

I still have some scene prompts to do but in the meantime here’s some of my stim hcs for the MK system and Layla bc I have been thinking abt them :-)))

Steven:

Stims more often and neutrally, in both positive and negative situations

Bites dead skin everywhere, on the edges of his nails, on the inside of his lip, etc.

Taps his fingers over each other rhythmically, tapping each one against his thumb in succession over and over, back and forth

Leg bouncing

Wears big clothes so he can twist and crumple the hems

Sometimes just bobs and dances slightly even if he’s not listening to music

Hand flapping both when he’s excited and happy and when he’s overwhelmed

Chews on pens and pencils and lightly on the inside of his arm sometimes

Has pretty strong echolalia with songs and silly phrases, mutters laters gators and “Gus” a lot, as well as street signs and advertisement taglines

(Mild non-detailed mentions of harmful stims under cut)

Marc:

Stims mainly in negative situations due to hard masking, but is learning to not repress stuff as much in other situations

Makes fists when he’s focusing or frustrated and just sort of shakes them by his side or bumps them into his thighs

Stamps his foot when pent up w energy or unsure of something

Presses down on his thighs or arms or face when upset, or rhythmically squeezes them

Will also bite his arm, a little too hard sometimes, and eventually Steven gets him something else to bite down on

Stares at things really hard and traces their shape w his eyes over n over

When alone listens to music a loT and if able tries to have earbuds on or the radio playing at all times, doesn’t really matter what it is as long as there’s input

Wears leather or cloth bracelets and chews on them or twists them absentmindedly

I think he has really repressed echolalia, largely from learning to stay quiet and unobtrusive in childhood, and once he learns to unmask enough, starts verbally stimming a lot, mainly just sounds and grunts and syllables, but also words and phrases, especially Layla’s name when he’s in need of comfort, and certain lines from shows or games or books that feel good (update inspired by @tankycinna ilysm)

Likes to play with and twist and slightly pull on Layla’s hair when he can. He likes the texture and the smell and when they’re together his hands find their way to it most times

Jake:

Has a lot of regular environmental stim stuff set up for sensory issues and usually only stims hard otherwise in negative situations

Wears his gloves at all times so he doesn’t have to feel things on his hands, but also bc he likes to rhythmically squeeze them to feel the leather move

Hums songs he likes to himself bc he likes the feel of the vibration in his throat

Taps on his steering wheel

Has a specific playlist that’s maybe only an hour long that he listens to on repeat and plays whenever he goes out. Has to be played in order

Rubs and fiddles rhythmically w his mustache (even though it’s a stick on)

Doesn’t like much physical touch but does like running the back of his wrists over face stubble

When upset will get very ridged and shaky and will clench and unclench his fists to try and ground himself

Also presses his face hard into pillows or couch cushions, and stops making noise because he stops liking the vibrating feeling

Will also pound his hands on things quickly over and over when really upset and tries to have it be pillows and not himself

Layla:

Shakes her hands while researching or walking around

Likes to get old books because she likes the smell

Chews on her hair

Pops her knuckles even when they don’t pop

When comfortable will make random vocal noises now and then, likes “ah” and very short “m” noises specifically

Also makes quiet repeated popping noises

Taps her fingers on everything, but really likes tapping her face

Rubs her hands over stuff a lot, like her thighs, her arms, tables, other ppl, etc.

Likes thin metal necklaces and tugs them around in circles on her neck or twist the chain between her fingers

Has mild echolalia and can get easily caught in feedback loops with Marc and Steven if they’ve both latched on to a word or phrase that day

Bonus! Spaceman Marc/Commander:

Has the same hand squeezing thing as Jake, pops up during times of mild or extreme stress as a comforting grounding tool

Goes on space walks because he likes the feeling of floating

Curls up small to squeeze himself and feel compression, likes the compression of his space suit as well (I know irl it is not a comfortable compression but it is for him in the inner world)

Whistles or hums the Star Trek theme

Pats/drums on his thighs

Jumps a lot because he likes the lesser gravity on the moon

[moneymasnn]

Flower girl and Her Football boys| A Mason Mount And Ben Chilwell Love Triangle

Chapter 5:

Masterlist

Notes: sorry this has taken a while to post but I hope enjoy!!! It hasn’t been very well proof read so plz don’t juggle any mistakes🤧Also do you guys want me to make a gif list??? And if I started making a playlist for this series would you guys like that? <3

You could see your hand was shaking in the corner of your eye as you nervously tried to applied the dark coloured eyeliner. A million emotions waving through you and it felt like too much to handle. Saying you were nervous for your date with Mason would be an understatement.

You had agreed for him to pick you up from your house at 7pm, you sent him your address over messages and texted him telling him to call when he was outside. So that explains why you were so startled when there was a ruff bang at your door.

Your walked over to the door, standing on your tiptoes to become in eye line with the little piece of glass. Your eyes widened as soon as you saw who was standing at your door. Immediately pulling away to open the door and grab Ben pulling him inside by his arm.

"What the fuck Y/n?" Ben exclaimed as you harshly pulled him, checking outside to see if maybe Mason was there. When there was no sign of him you slam the door and turn to Ben, who was standing with a sour face and his arms crossed.

Shit.

"Ben this really isn't a good time-" you huff, rubbing your temples slightly.

“You really let me fuck you on your kitchen counter just so you could go on a date with my best mate a few days later?” Ben says as he barges past you, making way to the kitchen.

You hadn't followed him, you stood in the hallway, your mouth wide as you tried to collect your thoughts, realising how much of a predicament you were in.

You curl your fists and shut your eyes in a silent grown before making way to the kitchen where you saw Ben leaning on the counter, clearly very angry.

There it was again, that lingering silence that always surrounded in the presence of Ben.

"You look, really beautiful" He says as he looks you up and down. The expression on his face made your heart bleed.

You sympathetically smiled at him "thank you" you quietly replied before making your way over to him placing your arm on his shoulder.

"Ben, you really need to leave. He's picking me up in 10 minuets, I'm really sorry." You rub his arm slights before pulling away.

Ben raises his head up as his bright blue eyes stare into yours, before you even noticed him leaning in he pushes his face into yours, his hands grabbing your waist as he tried to kiss you as deep as possible.

You melted into the kiss for a few seconds before placing your hands on his chest to pull him away, "Ben" you mumble into the kiss, as you deny entrance to anymore of his tongue.

He pulls his head back, keeping a firm grip on your waist as you place a hand on his face, "We can't" you say as he bumps his nose against yours.

"I know, I know." As much as he didn't want to he pulled his hands of your waist, as he stood up straight.

"Go on a date with him y/n. And if you like him and he makes you happy then I'll leave you alone, and I'll never mention it to mase."

Your eyes felt glossy as you felt the sense to hold him tight, "I dont know what to say, Ben." You can't bare to look at him knowing you're obviously hurting him.

Ben opened his mouth to talk before the echo of a few gentel knocks filled the house.

"Shit" you mumbled knowing it was defiantly Mason, you blinked an immense about of times before trying to fix your lipstick through the reflection of a dirty spoon on the kitchen table in front of you. Until you realised that was the least of your problems.

Ben was standing in your kitchen.

"Just- shit shit shit- Just go upstairs and wait until we've gone then you can leave, make sure you lock the house behind you, leave my key under the mat outside." You whisper shouted You push ben up the stairs.

He would be lying of he didn't find the situation a little bit exilerating, but that scared him slightly as the last thing he would ever want to do in this would would be hurt mason, the boy who was like a brother to him.

You brushed off your outfit as you open the door to a very smiley Mason. He had the typical toothy grin he always wore, he had jeans and a jumper on with a big bouquet of tulips In his hands.

Your eyes flicked from his smile to the flowers as he gently gave them a shake, a smile spreading across your face. "No one talks about how hard it is to buys flowers for a girl that owns a flower shop." He huffs as though he had just lived the most stressful 10 minuets of his life.

You pulled him in for a hug and kissed his cheek, "Thank you mase, they're perfect." Mason felt his cheeks pink at the slight peck of your lips on the skin of his cheek.

Mean while your heart was fluttering at the little tag hanging out the bunch of tulips, written:

To flower girl,

Hope you like your flowers

from No19 x

It was the same handwriting for the note you got when he first invited you to the stadium. "Do you want to come in and ill quickly put them in a vase?" You gently take the flowers out fo his hands as you make way for him to walk in.

You both stood in the kitchen as you quickly pulled out a vase and stared to fill it with water from the tap. You could feels masons eyes never leave you as he watched your every move. watching you like you were his favourite character in a movie.

It was at that moment you remembered a certain hidden brunette was upstairs. You quickly placed the flowers in the vase before fulling them around signalling back to the door.

You both smiled as you pushed on your trainers and walked out the door, making suer you left your key on the table for Ben to lock the door behind you.

Mason had told you to dress casual, you was slightly happy about this since you felt weird about sitting in a fancy restaurant with him with an over priced menu, talking about stupid things until eventually you both run out of things to say. Was it obvious you had never been on a date before?

Meanwhile Ben waited for masons car to pull off your drive while he sat on the end of your bed, his eyes scanning your messy room. He couldn't help but giggle at the number of outfits on your bedroom floor, he knew he had messed up letting you go out that door with mason. Especially when he noticed a tiny navy blue piece of card balancing on your mirror, he fought the urge to pick it up and invade your privacy, but he found it captivating that he had seen that hand writing before. When Ben stood up and moved closer to scan the little piece of paper, his heart hurt more as he realised you had kept a meaningless note from Mason on your mirror, in a place where you would look at it everyday. Ben had never left you a note before the match he invited you too, he never got you flowers. Why has he never gotten you flowers? Ben was suddenly noticing all his wrongs and all of Masons rights.

You bundled into his car fiddling with the hem of your jumper, your mind was stuck on Ben, who was stuck in your house. But mostly the fact he had told you to go on your date with Mason, he didn't fight for you.

You both chatted in the car, laughing away at the tiny little finger marks up the car window, that had no doubt been put there by his niece.

But mason didn't just speak about himself, he wanted to know about you. He wanted to know everything about you, and not just the best parts but the parts that you so clearly cut off from people, he wanted you to feel comfortable in his company, like you could tell him anything.

Mason had never felt fuzzy about a girl before, it worried him until he had a phone call with his him mum where she told him he might have just met the one, 'the one' he thought? He was only young but he knew where ever this feeling was talking him, he needed to follow it.

He pulled up at the local bowling centre, a place you had ben many times. You would come visit your aunts shop as a kid. You tried to control the smile on your face as you realised he was going to take you bowling for a first date.

Mason open your car door before you had a chance as he helped you get out the car, shutting the door behind you. "I know its the type of thing 15 year olds do, but I thought it might be fun." He shrugged with a sheepish smile.

"It won be fun for you when I completed smash you" You smirk as you start to walk to the centre.

"Oh now you've started a war" Mason giggles as he catches up to you, your hands brushing as he works up the courage to take your in his. Linking your fingers together he kept a straight face, not daring to look down at you because then you would notice how embarrassingly red his face was.

You walked into the empty bowling alley, Illuminouse neon purple lights highlighting all his best features as you couldn't stop staring at his hand in yours.

He slightly squeezed your hand before letting go to talk with the manager, turns out he had rented out the whole bowling alley for just you both.

"What would you like to drink?" Masons voice snapped you of your gaze as you were staring around at all the empty alleys, the quiet hum of of pop songs playing in the background.

"Im having a beer, they do cocktails though?" Mason raised his eyebrows with smirk as he shaked the menu in his hand.

"I could down 10 shots and still beat you at bowling mount, dont think alcohol is going to give you an advantage." You smirk back as you start to skim though the menu, eventually ordering a pornstar martini.

Mason put your names on the machine, titling him self as 'football boy' and you as 'flower girl'. One of the many little things he did that night that made you smile and your stomach flutter.

"What no fair" he moaned as you managed to score your second strike of the night, you were ahead of mason by but only by 4 points.

You threw your hands in the air as you twirled around to face him again, smugly walking over to down your second cocktail of the night. You felt slightly tipsy, but you held it together better than Mason, who you had convinced to have a pornstar martini too and you could tell it had thrown him of his aim slightly.

You were both giggling messes half the night, as you were constantly bumping each-others shoulders. Mason had worked up the courage a few times to put his hands near your waist and tickle you and eventually lifting you in the air after he scored his first strike.

Lucky you you managed to beat Mason at the game by only 2 points, this clearly annoyed him though, but he refused to be a sore loser.

You were both now sat in one of the booths at the back fo the room eating shitty pizza with a Fanta and coke.

"Its because im a gentleman, I let you win." Mason smirked at you for teasing him. Your are trying to stop the laughs falling from your mouth as he sat with a slice of pizza in his hand, complaining about his loss.

"Im at a disadvantage" he whines as he takes another bite of the pizza in front of you.

"Whys that?" You question through giggles.

"Because my opponents pretty, I got distracted" he pouts as he takes another bite.

He did everything right that night, he made you laugh, he made you comfortable, he made you happy. There wasn't a lot of small talk, it was more of just enjoying each others company. It was perfect.

You sat in the booth for way over a couple hours, downing water to sober Mason down slightly before making the drive home.

You walked out holding hands again, until you got in the car to go home. Once you sat down he picked your hand back up again and placed it on his lap. He didn't want to come on to strong, but it was like he couldn't not be touching you.

When you got to your house he walked you to the door, you both stood patiently at the door for a moment while you unlocked it. "Do you want to come in?" You loved his company, but you didn't want to rush it and sleep with him, yet.

"Ive actually got training tomorrow so I better not" Mason says as he scraches the back of his neck, he was clearly nervous.

You smile and nodd in a response as you both stand there for a little while longer, you are about to speak up until he finally did.

"Y/n, can I kiss you?" You knew it was coming but you didn't think he would actually ask you. You felt shocked at first, Mason seeing your shock as an evidant no.

"Sorry, if that was- sorry you dont." Mason starts to panic, clearly rambling on.

"No, its just, no ones ever actually asked before." You awkwardly giggle.

Mason just looks in your eyes for a second, he wasn't going to lean in until you told him he could. He wanted to kiss you but he also wanted things to be on your terms, not wanting to rush you.

You giggle at his little soft expression that was plastered on his face, "You can kiss me mase"

And with that you watch him lean in, with smile on his lips. He places his lips slowly on yours, not moving them much, just enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He slowly bought one hand up to hold your waist and the other on your jaw as his fingers tangled in your hair.

He slowly added more pressure pushing his lips further onto yours, still using no tongue. The kiss was sweet and meaningful. It was slow and soft. It was the absolute juxtapose to Bens.

Mason pulls away keeping his face firmly close to yours as he pushes some stray hair behind your ear. That stupid toothy grin still placed on his lips. "Thank you for a good night mase." You smiled on to his lips before you peck him again and pull away to enter your house.

"Night y/n"

You felt the butterfly's like a teenage school girl in your stomach that night, your date with Mason was amazing, but you knew that if he found out about Ben then everything would be ruined.

Next day mason couldn't stop the smile that was on his face, he felt like he was falling in love with you, and instead of worrying about it he just enjoyed the feeling.

He marched into training , hugging all of the boys as he messes around acting like the big child he usually is at work, but he was being little extra this morning.

“Someone’s happy mate, did you getting some?” Ben jokes as he pats Mason on the back with a fake smile.

"I really like her man, like really like her" Mason huffs as he falls back on the locker room bench next to Ben. As ben was putting his training clothing on, trying to not to make eye contact with ben at the fact he didn't answer his question.

Ben felt guilty for sleeping with you, but at the same time he didn't regret it.

"I think she's the one" Mason nods as he leans forward, patting his knees.

"The one?" Ben repeats confused, as he sits down next to Mason.

"She's got me feeling like a teenager man" Mason rubes his face in his hands.

"You down bad bro" Ben once again fake laughs as he starts to walk away, not being able to handle Mason talk about you knowing you probabaly felt the same.

chapter 6...

Ben at first though maybe it would be a good idea to a avoid you for a few days, then he realised that he was just giving you more time to think about your amazing date with Mason.

So he did something he didn't think he was going to do on a Thursday morning, with his head head high he was going to walk into your flower shop and demand you make a decision.

[optimisticstudentangel]

Loosen up a little, will you

No warning. just fluff

It’s fall. You are sitting in your room listening to a comforting playlist and doing your homework. While writing tasks on your notebook, you can’t help but look at your window. The leaves had turned yellow and they were lying in a looted pile. You felt some sense of void in your heart. Maybe because you were homesick.

But you liked it here. It’s so much fun in Devildom. You have a second family in this place, so loving and caring.

Going back to your notes, you made the playlist quieter. Right now you need to put those feelings somewhere else. It will not help you, on the contrary it will worsen your well-being.

While you tried to focus on homework, someone knocked on your door.

-          Come in, - you said quietly.

-          Good evening, y/n. Oh, sorry are you busy right now? – Simeon asked you. “Well then, I will come later, if you don’t mind of course”

-          No, no. Not really. What do you want, Simeon? – you became curious. And also you were little tired of being good student. Talking to him might freshen you up, and you’ll have new burst of energy, to finish your work.

-          Ah, if so… You seem so tired lately, my little lamb… and I thought it would be a great idea to take some break for you. I am worried about your health, and about you in general. Let’s go on a walk, while it’s warm here.

 -          Yeah, why not. I would also be happy to spend some time with you. Give me a moment, I will take a sweater with me, - you went to your closet, and searched for a piece of clothing.

After finding it, you and Simeon left the house of lamentation. He shared with stories about purgatory hall, talking about Luke and Solomon.

-          Luke found a new recipe, he made cat-cupcakes. You should visit us more often, you know. So you could test-taste Luke’s sweets. And not just that, you should also see me, - you laughed at the second part.

-          Yeah, you are right, Simeon. Sorry, I wanted to became better at my studies, but it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.

-          Little lamb. It’s admirable that you are doing your best, but don’t push yourself too much, it will only affect you negatively. You also need time to appreciate other things, like taking care of yourself. Especially that.  

-          Hehe, you sound like a mother. What else mommy Simeon?

-          Y/n! Hahah. I was trying to be serious here! – he jokingly bumped his fist to your hand. “As a mother, I don’t approve of your behavior, little one” – both of you burst out of laughing, so much so, that tears started coming from you.

Simeon and you went to the closest bench, you sat there until you calmed down. He added new things to the joke, which made it a lot funnier, and harder to your tummy to relax.  

After a long stroll, he walked you home. He promised that he would see you more often, and told you to worry less about your studies.

[chemicalpink]

Love Me Not ♡ ྀ Kim Seokjin

♡ ྀ Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

♡ ྀ Genre/Tropes/Rating: 18+, smut, so much angst, falling out of love, unrequited love, lovers to exes.

♡ ྀ Word Count: 4.6k

♡ ྀ Warnings: lots of tears, emotional constipation, fighting, hard talks about feelings, seokjin breaking down, unprotected sex, emotional detachment, tiredness of routine, not a happy ending.

♡ ྀ Summary: arms empty, fists filled with phantom pains. Isn't it a real tragedy how you found yourselves in one another until saying 'I love you' started to hurt? How you turned around and walked away?

♡ ྀ Collab: Anti Romance Club Collab of the wonderful @astramoonchild and @rockwithwoo

♡ ྀ A/N: I'm not sure just if it is really angsty or if it just hit home too closely but I did have to pause every few paragraphs while writing this because I kept ugly sobbing. If you wanna amp up the angst, here's the playlist that made it possible, just press shuffle on it and enjoy! Did I adapt an oh so cheesy Ted Mosby speech even tho I didn't know where it was from? yes I did

You want to curse yourself for even thinking that, wishing in the depth of the night that you could go back to the day you met him and leave him be, never to cross paths from the start, defying fate or whatever it was meant to be called that was causing a stranger who knew all your secrets to pull you apart and break your heart. Perhaps it was always meant to be the other way around.

“Hey, do you need any help with that?” you couldn’t help the smile that was drawn on your face as you did your routine check-up around the store, you had quickly escalated to supervisor while on college– a part-time job just in case, as your mother had put it. Although the neighbourhood was more on the quiet side, most people preferring the larger malls on the other side of town, which meant just having a few workers on duty at a time, most of them college kids like yourself. Truth be told, the few appliances from the store were quite worn out, which made it all the more amusing whenever rare occurrence you got a new addition to the team. His name was Kim Seokjin, a few years older than you, his handsome looks and perky personality had snatched the job out of your manager’s hands in no time, a vague image of bumping into him around campus faintly inside your head as you watch him struggle to open one of the storage rooms whose key is severely worn out, needing a bit of a trick of push and pull in order to get it to work.

He turns to look at you amusedly “Help would be great, I’ve been at this for half an hour and I wouldn’t want that time to come out of my paycheck”

“Huh. An employee that actually wants to work” you work your magic on the door enough to get it to open before facing him and jokingly add “That would be a first”

“I’m great at it”

“Defying the status quo?”

“I was thinking more down the path of being amazingly good looking when I do my job” he continues to sort out through the stuff inside the storage room now that you had worked it out for him “But that other thing works too”

You just smiled at him before letting him continue his work, unable to get out of your mind just how true his words were despite the out of the blue proclamation, there was no denying that the man was handsome, even more so than average, with his dark hair falling softly on his eyes, pretty pink pouty lips that seemed to indicate his state of mind as he comically struggled with a jacket. You shook your head amused, what was that fuzzy feeling inside your chest that refused to go away as days passed with Kim Seokjin by your side?

“Still working late?” you don’t even turn your head up to watch Seokjin entering your apartment, faintly hearing the telltale of his keys being dropped in the crystal bowl by the entrance, a quietness ever so present as he approached the couch where you had your laptop in front of you, a rather chilly atmosphere along with the faint moonlight coming from the huge window beside you making their way to send goosebumps along your spine as he bowed down to plant a kiss on the top of your head, his hand resting in a lovely manner on your shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze that makes all the fuzzy feelings you had once thought unending to come back for a brief second. His voice is barely above a whisper, something inherently tiring about it as he says “I’ll start dinner then”

“I’ve already eaten”

You don’t look up to him in the next few seconds where the air around you becomes tight enough to choke on it as the silence stretches between the two of you and you can hear him unmoving from his spot just before the kitchen entrance, stealing a glance his way as you pick up your wine glass, taking a sip as you watch his shoulders sag a little lower, swearing you could see him die a little more inside as an effect of your words yet you can’t seem to blame yourself for it. Even as you think you hear him sniffle before he continues his walk to the refrigerator “O-okay”

The room is filled with laughter from the both of you as the first rays of sunshine make their way through the small kitchen window, the smell of burnt pancake batter mixed with something sweet and smooth coming from Jin’s side of the room as you throw a bit of uncooked batter to his face, making him leap towards you, scooping you up in his arms the best that he can, burying his face in your neck before planting a sounding kiss on your cheek as you both continue to shake with laughter at the sheer happiness that keeps radiating out of such a domestic interaction just a few months after getting together.

“What?” the smile in your face finds its way all the way up to your eyes as you catch Seokjin staring at you from across the table, soft-looking in the early morning light, warm in ways you would have never imagined a person could be, almost sure you can see splattered pancake mix drying up in his hair, undoubtedly the same as you.

He shrugs his shoulders but doesn’t stop smiling up at you “I can see myself waking up to this every day”

Your eyes lock with his as your hand finds its way on top of the table to take his larger hand in yours, thumb caressing his knuckles and you’re almost sure you’re burning up with happiness as butterflies run wild inside your stomach “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

The apartment seems to get colder by the second, even more so with the passing of days and weeks, unlike anything it was before. The light barely seems to reach the windows anymore, no matter how they cover the majority of the living, they only seem to let the cold inside at a more rapid pace, the quietness of Seokjin being gone most of the time as you stay behind adding onto it. Even the covers on the bed seem stuffy and freezing at the same time as you lay awake at ungodly hours of the night.

There’s barely a sound around you as you keep staring at the stray ray of moonlight surpassing a small opening in between the curtains as it makes its way to illuminate your drawer, somehow hoping that things would go back to how they used to be before the cold took over your life. There’s a rustling beside you, not even bothering to turn to your side as you feel Seokjin’s arms wrapping around your waist in an effort to provide you with the warmth you so actively seek, yet his skin feels uncomfortably scorching on yours, making you jump at the feeling, prying the covers off of you as you sit straight on the mattress, bare feet touching the floor as Jin rests his weight on his side to sleepily check up on you at your sudden movement.

“Y/N?”

“Can’t sleep” your voice is completely flat as the words leave your mouth, you can see him nonchalantly turning to the other side of the bed as he lays back down, falling asleep almost instantly and you can’t help the freezing sensation that washes over you at such a simple act of his, without a fight, nothing like it was before.

“Sorry I woke you up” you look up at Seokjin as he hands you a steaming hot cup of tea, nursing one of his own in between his hands as he takes a seat on the floor next to you, the view out of the huge, almost empty apartment you both had just moved into, was amazing as you could watch all the flickering lights of the city even as everyone was supposed to be sleeping. The sight makes your heart race, even more so as you turn to look at Seokjin’s sleepy face staring right back at you with the softest of smiles on his lips

“It’s fine, I wasn’t even sleeping” the statement bubbles a burst of soft laughter out of you and he relishes on the sound, it is obvious he was asleep if the messy hair and barely open eyes were any indicators of that. You can’t help but melt at the gesture of him deciding to check up on you even while knowing how hectic his work is going to get in a couple of hours. He points to no particular spot outside the window as he says “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“It’s freezing” his eyes soften as he turns to look at you, knowing full well you aren’t just referring to the city or the depth of the night, but more to those intrusive thoughts that make their way into your mind every now and then, leaving cold and awake in the middle of the night, no matter how hard he tries to give you the warmth you so desperately seek every time you’re in his arms. He settles for nodding in understanding, not even sure if you’re able to see the gesture before you rest your head on his shoulder as you both keep on admiring the view.

“I’ll see you at 4 in Dr Hak’s office” his tone is flat as it makes its way into your ears, not quite something new, yet surprising as you’ve grown accustomed to Seokjin always being the perpetual source of light and warmth in between the two of you. He’s dressed as pristine as always before leaving for work. Handsome as the first time you had first laid your eyes on him.

You muster everything inside you for an emotionless “Yeah”

“Y/N” his voice is almost a whisper as if he’s afraid he’ll say the wrong thing and wreak havoc. This time you do look up to meet his eyes and you’re able to tell just how tired he looks in comparison to how he carries himself, subtle bags under his eyes that you’re sure he conceals before dressing up, the barely-there shakiness of his hands as he toys with his bag. He looks almost as tired as you feel “We’re really trying, right?”

It almost sounds like a desperate plea. Enough to have you softly nodding your head in agreement, looking down as you hear the door click shut.

“I can’t fucking believe you’d have the absolute fucking nerve, Jin!” you can’t even hear yourself screaming at him as your head pounds with rage. Can’t even see straight, just knowing that he was standing against the closed door, the picture-perfect smile he had managed to upkeep while dragging the both of you into his apartment rapidly disappearing in favour of a calmer approach that chilled your bones at the sight.

“Did you really have to go and do that in front of my mother, Y/N?” you’re able to tell how hard he’s working on keeping it together, quickly losing his grip “My fucking mother, Y/N!”

Even from the beginning, after Jin had been working with you a few weeks, it had been painfully obvious how different your approaches to life were, with Seokjin being there as a humbling experience of sorts from his family, the fact that Kim Seokjin was a man born with a silver spoon hadn’t changed your relationship. At least not until he hadn’t shown up to your graduation ceremony in favour of attending one of those fancy galas of his, tears in your eyes, the image of an empty chair in the crowd mocking you inside your mind as you come to find him laughing warmly with his arm around another woman as they all chatted away with his parents. You couldn’t even pinpoint your anger as something out of jealousy, outrage or how much more right it looked for a man like him to be with a picture-perfect woman like her.

“So what?! You were just going to keep it a secret that I was- some type of side piece?!” a million thoughts were racing inside your mind, the most logical making its way out of your mouth before you could stop it and you could see just how it infuriates Jin all that much.

Seokjin doesn’t even look angry at you, he never does. He looks angry at himself– or the situation. You wouldn’t be able to tell “God you don’t fucking understand any of this fucked up shit Y/N! I truly truly envy you!” You laugh dryly at him, scoffing at whatever nonsense he was spitting, knowing fully well there were things left unsaid “I was about to tell my mother that I was walking away from that life! My whole fucking life, YN! For you!”

You can see his eyes becoming glassy even from a distance, your heart clenching as you try to make some sense out of it, finding none of it “There’s no logical reason for you to do that”

“It’s because I love you so fucking much, Y/N!” Seokjin looks a second away from losing it all, doesn’t even catch up to his words until he sees you standing there completely still at his revelation, his gaze goes soft, voice barely a whisper now and you can already feel his warmth blooming towards you as he says “I love you”

You stare at each other for a few seconds as the room seems to pick up temperature, Seokjin dragged towards you like a magnet, his lips on yours and you can feel the freezing sensation melting as his mouth works on yours, one of his hands working its way up to your dress as one of yours had been already tracing the outline of his hardening cock through his pants, a breathy groan coming out of his lips before his mouth started leaving open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, teeth lightly nipping at your skin as he pinned you against the wall, you faintly hear him fumbling with his own clothes before he hoists you up, legs around him, dress riding up and giving him access to your cunt as he doesn’t even bother to get rid of your panties in favour of stretching them aside and pushing two fingers inside, pumping them in and out for a few seconds, your hips reaching forward as you try to get him deeper somehow. He teases the tip of his cock by coating it with your wetness, rubbing it in between your folds as you hold on tighter against him as he pushes his length inside you, not giving you a second to adjust before he is moving with harsh rapid thrust, building up your climax rapidly as his heps meet yours every time even in such an awkward position, he nibs at your exposed skin and you’re almost sure the neatly placed painting beside you will drop at any second from the sheer force and speed he’s fucking you that’s making it tilt as you try to reach your head backwards in pleasure, the room filled with grunts and moans from both of you as you can feel all the built-up anger flowing out rapidly. His movements become erratic, allowing down as he presses himself impossibly further into you, his forehead resting against yours, lips locking with yours as you feel him fill you up inside, both of you left shaking from the emotional rollercoaster. His croaky voice barely a whisper “I love you so much, Y/N”

You can’t help but wonder when did it become significantly harder to move on?

You can only hear the ticking noise of the clock from where you’re seated, can’t even afford to steal a brief look at it. The leather under you has become as uncomfortable as it can be as you shift in your seat for the umpteenth time, the man sitting across you continues to stare down at his notes, glasses dropping from his nose and you’re almost sure it has been almost an hour. The pristine office is making you lose it, the faint smell of disinfectant making you dizzier by the second.

The doctor takes a brief look at his wristwatch before sighing loudly “Perhaps, we should get started?”

“Thank you, Dr Hak. I’m sorry for making you lose your time” you’re barely able to work a polite tight-lipped smile his way before standing up from your seat, collecting your bag and aiming for the door, only to be met with Jin’s dishevelled hair, looking like he ran all the way to the office.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry I lost track of time and-”

“It’s fine, Jin” your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and you’re sure that he’s able to look past the polite approach of yours as you try to push past him only to have him tug on your elbow.

“Let’s go inside” his eyes are pleading and sparkly even under the fluorescent lights, the way that they had now constantly come to be whenever he approached you, as if afraid the wrong move would make you bolt out of his life “Please?”

You can’t even feel the tug at your heart as his voice breaks anymore, can’t even bring your eyes to well up with tears as you just stand, stare and watch Seokjin break under your hold, removing his fingers from where they grasped your clothes as if grasping for his own dear life and continue your way out.

The night gets colder by the second, making you cling onto Seokjin harder as he keeps rocking the both of you in a lulling manner, you’re able to see the moon shining brightly from where you are both standing on the balcony, the whispers of some classical music quartet making their way all to where you both kept on dancing. You can’t help but notice the clean way that Seokjin’s feet move with the rhythm, posing your head on his shoulders as he takes a deep inhale, hands around your waist as you take a glance inside, to all the overdressed people that seem to be enjoying themselves. Can’t help but wonder if Seokjin missed any of it, his life before you came along.

He seems to catch along with your thoughts as he says “You do know I’d do anything you want me to, right Y/N?”

You straighten up to look at him in the eyes, looking for a sign of him lying to you the way you would expect him to but not finding any indication of it, making you smile and pressing your lips to his for a brief second, feeling your insides flutter with warmth, a warmth that you’ve come to identify with Seokjin only.

The tiles beneath your feet are ice-cold even after a long time of standing on them, expertly moving around the high-end kitchen that Jin had adamantly purchased when you first moved in, fixing yourself a warm cup of coffee as you hear the door opening and closing after a second, Seokjin’s feet making little noise as he walks all the way to where you’re standing.

“Dr Hak said we both have to be there for it to work” and the warmth is almost back. Almost. And not for the right reasons, just out of watching him look as miserable as you feel inside, a nagging ever so present inside your chest that begs to be free.

“That’s a shame”

He turns around in record time before you leave the room, his eyes are begging for an answer you already know he’s not going to like. An answer that’s been burning inside your head for the past few months as you watch him vanish right before your eyes. “What is?”

And it’s like he is even afraid of asking, like he can’t contain not hearing you say what he is already painfully aware of, looking for a way out of both of your miseries, and he’s begging you to be told. Seokjin’s eyes are almost empty yet pleading for an answer. You’re almost sure he’s able to feel the impending freezing sensation you’ve grown accustomed to as you watch a shiver go down his spine while you place the mug on top of the counter, voice determined and completely void of emotion, having had this conversation in your mind a million times already “Seokjin, I don’t think you realise that life moves on, and some things are prettier the way they were before we decided to give each other all of our love” your right hand comes down to play with the gold ring that had decorated your finger for a couple of years now before you make a move to remove it, placing it gently beside your mug and that’s the exact moment you watch Seokjin snap broken.

“Y/N don’t-” his words are cut off by a sob that makes its way out of his throat as he tries to hold himself tightly.

“I’m leaving, Seokjin” his sobs are the only sound in the room in an otherwise silent night. You can’t bring yourself to shed any more tears than the ones you had already shed months ago, alone in the same damned spot Seokjin was standing “There’s no coming back from this”

“Y-Y/N” his voice comes out croaked, faltering as you just stand there, watching him fall apart, trying to pull himself together with the same way he’s tightly grasping the end of the counter to keep himself from falling onto his knees as you walk up to him until you’re eye to eye “Y/N please, we can fix this!”

“What is there to fix? There’s nothing left between us, Jinnie” your hand comes up to caress a few stray hairs out of his forehead as you force a pitiful smile to draw on your face before placing a soft kiss on his forehead “I’m so sorry”

You can’t help the smile on your face as you stand before Seokjin, dressed in an all too expensive tuxedo, as he spent every last bit of his money on the ceremony. On your white dress. Old habits never die. You turn to glance at the people that celebrate such an important date of yours, not finding any of Seokjin’s family except for his sister, yet he’s smiling as wide as he could be, the sun raining down on both of you, warming you up “And I promise that there’s nothing in this whole wide world that will separate me from you. I promise to be the warmth that you seek in a cold winter evening, I’ll be your light during your restless pitch-black nights. I’ll stand by you forever, no matter how hard things get, I’ll always be there for you”

“Goodbye, Y/N”

“Goodbye, Jin”

Even in the face of the impending end, he works up the words to leave his mouth, eyes somewhat hopeful as he watches you rearrange whatever little belongings you had decided to take with you “Until we meet again?”

“I don’t think there will be such a thing”

♡ ྀ♡ ྀ♡ ྀ♡ ྀ♡ ྀ

“I don’t think stupid cuts it! I really don’t think there’s a word for what this is” Seokjin’s sister is trying to keep it civil as her brother recalls the story of the past few months, her mind racing as she recounts all the things her brother had to face on his own for the sole fact of choosing to be with you all those years back.

“Actually, there is a word for that, it’s love” he takes a deep breath as a way to stop himself from dwelling too much on it “I’m in love with her, okay?” and he really tries not to think too much about the pitiful look his sister is giving him, feeling the need to elaborate “The word you’re looking for is love. It’s caring about someone beyond all rationality, wanting them to have everything they want no matter how much it destroys you, it’s love”

“Seokjin-”

“The worst thing is that it never stops, ever” he feels himself crying. Not the way he had before, but the tears don’t seem to stop even as they’re in public, the words coming out of his mouth. Words that he wished he could have told you, words that could have made a difference “It doesn’t stop when people roll their eyes or call me stupid for believing in it, even then, especially then because if I could, i don’t know, give up, if I could just- you know, take the world’s advice, take her advice and- and move on, find someone else, then that wouldn’t be love! That would be- that would be some other disposable thing that wasn’t worth fighting for the way that I did”

Seokjin walks into the apartment the same way he has done for the past week or so, finding you curled up on the couch staring blankly at the turned-off TV, he briefly thinks he should bring up the conversation on how you’re slowly but surely slipping through his fingers, even as you fake the wonder inside your eyes, he can see the truth behind them, can see the light dimming every time you turn to look at him, even if you pretend that it is all okay. He just doesn’t want to lose you the way he had pictured he would all those years ago when you said you hated the freezing sensation that people left on your being after some time, even as you reassured him he was your evergreen summer day on the lonely nights you spent inside your mind. He was terrified as he approached you, watching the way you felt completely blank, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks the very moment he realised he had to fight for you, even if you were unwilling to do so for yourself, a lot of jumbled words coming out of him yet you’re only able to catch the last few as he desperately tries to reach you inside your mund, his voice pleading and almost broken “I’m in love with you, you heard me?”

“I guess”

“I’m in love with you and I know that loving you right now is just a shout into the void and I know that oblivion is inevitable, that you and I both are doomed and that this will all be turned to dust one day and I know that I can’t keep on being the Sun you so desperately want me to be, that all of this will eventually consume us both and leave us freezing, it will swallow the only love we will ever have” the tears keep running down as he gathers you in between his arms, your figure almost completely limp at his actions, even as he feels you take a deep breath in between, hoping that maybe, just maybe the warmth you had sought in him all those years ago is still there “I’m in love with you and I’m so sorry Y/N”

[isagisyoichi]

how do u think the boy would be in a party😈😈

NEW RULES!

SYNOPSIS: blue lock at a party

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin, chigiri, naruhaya, niko, nanase, gagamaru, kunigami

WARNINGS: mentions of underage drinking and weed (but no one actually takes anything), swearing, mentions of throwing up and food, again pretend they're all friends and go to the same school because it's more fun to think that way. ooc rin maybe? idk i like pretending he's not as miserable as the manga makes him out to be 🤗 he deserves to have fun i think

A/N: no cause this was soooo fun to write tysm anon, i got through this in a flash cause i loved this suggestion sm :') literally one of the most fun requests i've ever gotten eeee!!!!! also this made me miss my irls bye corona can suck my balls fr

ISAGI YOICHI:

i feel like this would be his first big party aw lol, so he’s kind of nervous LMAO.

gets handed a beer by someone, has his first sip of it ever, and immediately spits it out. mutters “how the hell can anyone drink this?” and “discreetly” pours the rest into a bush.

mainly stays with nagi, chigiri, kunigami, and bachira and they just talk throughout the night

(bachira only sits down and talks after his energy dies down. i'll elaborate on this below the cut).

keeps asking nagi “what song is this?” throughout the night LOL. makes a mental note of what songs to add to his playlists.

slightly nods his head to the music, aw cute. goes a little harder and lip syncs/raps along when he really likes the song, though (i stand by my word when i said he loves “neon guts”)

does accidentally bump into someone, but isagi starts a convo with them after he apologizes, and they hit it off right away 🥰

but, the person left early and isagi, ever the dummy, forgets to ask for their number.

and he's actually so disappointed in himself when he realizes, too 😭

BACHIRA MEGURU:

not drunk or anything at all, but boy, the way he’s acting makes it seem like he is.

the self proclaimed “life of the party.”

can be found “dancing,” though i use that word generously because to classify whatever he’s doing as “dancing,” is a stretch, to every song, even if he doesn’t know the words LOL

really likes when throwbacks come on!!!! he does dance to the lyrics and not the beat sometimes, though 😭

but, bachira looks like he’s having so much fun, it’s so cute, he’s definitely been waiting for this moment his whole life 🥰

if you were dancing with him, bachira would 100% take you by the hand and spin you around

also forces gets isagi to dance with him but isagi’s so awkward 😭

bachira also ends up jumping in the pool sometime later that night. yells “cannonball!” and everything, like, okay michael phelps 😭

he doesn’t have extra clothes so reo has to give him some and they're so fucking big on him LOLLL

texts the groupchat “i was sooo crazy last night😂” in the morning LMAOO, okay babe calm down

KUNIGAMI RENSUKE:

takes it upon himself to make sure none of his friends die LOL

only drinks water and diet coke 👍

his mom calls in the middle of the party to ask how he's doing and bachira and nagi are doing stupid shit like yelling “pass the weed” and fake moaning 😭

isagi and chigiri tell him to tell her they say hi LOL

really likes when the dj puts on 90s/2000's r&b/hiphop songs (i'll die by my hc that kunigami's an oldies fan)

mostly sways side to side to the music, but he did also dance a little, per request of bachira, and ended up talking to a cute person a for little, too 🤗

offers to help clean up in the morning

CHIGIRI HYOUMA:

at least two drunk girls have mistaken him for their friend, and another four have asked to touch his hair.

tried to use one of reo’s many bathrooms, found a couple making out, outwardly said “gross,” and then left to find another one 😭

nods his head and taps his foot to the music, not much of a dancer.

also a people-watcher, and he points out things he sees are happening to his friends.

“guys, i think misa and her boyfriend are breaking up, look.” leave that poor girl alone bro 😭

finds himself laughing a lot that night because damn! his friends are funny, whether they try to be or not.

not really a party person, but chigiri actually had a lot of fun 🥰

NARUHAYA ASAHI:

also on the dancefloor! doesn’t really dance, per say, but he jumps up and down and does the fist pump thing 😭 he has the spirit, let's give him that.

drank a lot of soda, so he’s filled with energy. also pees in at least three of reo's bathrooms.

talks to his friends, but also makes new ones! also i feel like he takes a lot of pictures LOL. he needs the finsta content 😭

plays truth or dare, or something like that. ends up having to do some stupid shit like smack raichi’s ass and run away, but naruhaya did make out with the girl next to him, so fair trade, he thinks.

also ends up in the pool, but he’s playing chicken with gagamaru and some other people. does not win a single round, but he had fun 😇

leaves with like four plates of food and one of reo’s decorative towels for some reason???

GAGAMARU GIN:

goes through a bunch of reo's shit 😭 he's not taking anything, but he's just curious LOL

strikes up very, random conversations with a bunch of people out of nowhere, good for him!

weirdly good at darts, very good aim.

although one round, naruhaya accidentally distracted gagamaru and one of darts ended up in reo's wall 💔

“it's fine, he has the money to fix it,” naruhaya shrugs as he walks away from reo's now punctured, wall. so true bestie!

gagamaru somehow ends up giving some drunk stranger some “life-changing” advice. (whether it's good or not is debatable)

they thank gagamaru for changing their life and he never sees them again

NAGI SEISHIRO:

irritates the fuck out the dj because nagi keeps asking him to play one specific song over and over again.

it was good the first time, don't wear it out for the rest of us bae 😭

doesn't really dance, just nods his head, maybe raps along a little, too

when he talks to the girls that come up to him, nagi says stuff like “yeah, the host and i go way back, we’re best friends.”

“way back,” my ass, but whatever nagi 🤨

knocks out in one of reo’s guest rooms. someone finds him when they’re trying to look for the bathroom and they draw a mustache and a bunch of other stupid shit on him 😭

tries to leave before reo makes him help clean up in the morning. does not work 👍

dumbass also ended up losing his phone (reo bought him a new one so nagi doesn't really care)

RAICHI JINGO:

gasses himself up sooo much when he’s trying to hit on girls.

“yeah, i'm about to go D1 after high school, just wait on it,” yeah, okay raichi 🙄

also tries to show them his highlights, bye. babe, i mean this in the nicest possible way but, i do not care, can we just kiss 🙏

i feel like he’s one of those boys who likes to take his shirt off for no reason, so raichi most definitely ends up shirtless at some point of the night 😭

takes pictures with reo’s fancy cars in his garage to flex 💀 gets annoyed when reo says raichi can’t drive them. raichi doesn't even have his license 😑

plays pool and is actually not that bad. does almost accidentally blind isagi with his cue, though.

IMAMURA YUUDAI:

he's with some girls but, he’s a dummy and he didn’t know his other hoes would be there, so imamura had quite a few drinks spilled on him here and there.

still somehow leaves with like three new girls snaps, four numbers, and a bunch of lipstick stains. not even gonna lie, i respect his game.

actually a really good dancer, and he knows he looks good, too. knows the words to every drake song that comes on, argue with your mom.

lip-syncs the words to you when you dance together and it makes you more flustered than you would think 🙄

the type to pull you close and wraps his arms around your waist or around your neck

actually really fun to talk to. always in the loop with drama and stuff, so he's always got some interesting conversation topics. and he's funny 😭

MIKAGE REO:

obviously, the party’s at his house. what’s the point of having a rich teammate if you can’t exploit them for their possessions?

jokes, but reo did offer to throw it at his mansion house in the first place.

actually really likes throwing parties lmao, so he jumped at the opportunity.

posted on his snap, “party at my place su for address‼️” LOL

natural charm + raised with good manners = reo being an amazing host

but, reo does have a little group of girls following him around the entire night 👎

and it irritates the hell out of whoever reo’s trying to talk to because they’re all up on him, making it hard for reo to pay attention 😑

also doesn’t help that he entertains them and flirts back and dances with a couple of them, too

and looks good when he dances, too UGH!!!! he's the type to run his hands up and down your body while he dances with you 😣

i hate this man 👎 /j

ITOSHI RIN:

practicing. he didn’t come. sike! rin has a social life, too, come on now, y'all 🙄

talked a big game about how he wouldn’t show up then he still came anyways, like rin, what 😭??

super good at cup pong and he knows it. he keeps beating ryusei and if you look closely, rin has something reminiscent of a smirk on his face.

a foot-tapper, not a dancer, which sucks because he’s not even bad at dancing, either 👎

a couple of girls come up to rin to flirt, but rin doesn’t give them the time of day. no response or anything just a little side eye 😭

rin just talks to his friends and that’s it, really.

actually internally glad for the chance to kickback and relax for once, tbh.

but, he refuses to admit he had any semblance of fun. (he did, rin’s just a weenie 😒)

NIKO IKKI:

the team forced him to come 😭

niko’s already a homebody and he doesn’t like loud noises or large social scenes, so he wasn’t too jazzed about going somewhere where the both of those things combine.

also he's picky with music so LOL. does like that one remix to the pursuit of happiness, though

he’s a wall-stander, i hate to break it to y’all. just watched everything from a distance and didn't talk to anyone except for isagi and his friends.

bye, if you don’t get off the damn wall and dance (he'd dance with me i'm different 🥰🤗)

keeps opening and closing his phone so he looks busy but that mf is literally just going through the settings app 😭

called his mom to bring him home an hour and a half in 👎

NANASE NIJIROU:

i hate to admit it, but he’s the annoying first year that documents everything on snap bye

he’s just excited to be there but like, there is no reason for his story to be half an hour long.

i'm not watching all of that! sorry that happened to you or good for you 🤗

probably playing games like spin the bottle or seven minutes in heaven. is very proud of himself for kissing four people in one night #bigmoves 🥳

stays with his group of friends and they're sooo loud and rowdy LMAOO. #firstyearthings

you can literally hear them laughing over the music, but they're having fun, so it's fine (at least of those kids hits people when they laugh too)

also dances, too! has super good energy and a natural sense of rhythm surprisingly 🥰 also a good hypeman!!!!! honestly, he's just really fun to be around tbh

overall, has a lot of fun, as you can tell by his story 😇

[0erpro]

Emmet and Ingo headcannons cuz I can

▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲

Am I writing these cuz I got brainrot of theses nerds? Maybes

Is it cuz I like writing headcannons and seeing others headcannons? Yes

The headcannons will be under this cut so that I don’t clog up your page with my babbling.

Oh and before we start, shippers, kindly fuck off

OK! let’s get start :D

▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽

▲ They have a secret hand shake, it can be very simple like a fist bump, to more complex ones. All I know is that they have one. (I’d like to think it’s a fist bump one like they both hit the thumb top half of their fists then fist bump. I have no clue how to explain it besides that)

▽ I think both Emmet and Ingo have similar, yet different music playlists. Not too similar that you can’t tell the two playlists apart but different enough that you can guess who’s is who’s

▲ they play “ childish” games to decide things. A game of tag through the out of service subway tracks for fun. A staring contest to see who has to take out the trash. Rock Paper Scissors to decide what they if they are cooking or ordering for dinner that night.

▽ under Emmet or Ingo’s giant cuff of a jacket sleeve, you can find a bracelet that Elesa made for them. They are friendship bracelet.

▲ continueing on the beaded friend ship bracelets, When Emmet stims by waving his hands, you can hear the beads clinking off each other. Emmet loves that sound and will probably do that stim to hear that sound.

▽ when Ingo got poofed to hisui, that bracelet confused him as he had never met a Emmet or an Elesa. So he correctly assumed that they were some important people and kept that bracelet very safe tucked into his inside coat pocket or in a satchel.

▲ they have their own language they created when they were tiny train conducters and still use it today to talk over the radios about anything from trainers to watch out for to where something was.

▽ ether both or one of them are transgender. Is this because of some amazing artwork I’ll link here and here? Yes. I can’t un see it

▲ Elesa and the twins will hang out when ever they have free time. Watching shows, vibing, going out to a cafe or just hanging out in the park

▽ dimples, they both have dimples. Emmet’s dimples you can always see because of his smile, but it’s a treat to see Ingo’s dimples. Elesa has a photo on her phone of a off the clock ingo sitting next to emmet on the floor smiling as they watch a movie. Did she tell ingo that she deleted it? Yes. Did she? Nope, that photo is her most prized possession.

▲ when Ingo and Emmet cook together, it’s most likely gonna be a disaster. Not the food, the food would be amazing. The kitchen and themselves on the other hand, would be dirty from flour on the boys faces and hair to unused food on the counter and ceiling. How did that happen? Idk ask them

▽ Elesa #1 fan and #2 fan. They are at most if not all of her shows and constantly tune into her shows and talk show interviews to support her. They would probably be hiding in the crowd wearing merch, not stealing the limelight from their friends.

▲ if they aren’t hanging out with Elesa, it’s their Pokémon they hang out with. Training them, cleaning their poke balls, playing fetch, anything under the sun really.

▽ how do they train if they are both really tough trainers? I hear you asking. Simple, they battle each other to train. In the middle of the battle they’ll shout to each other things to change and what to work on or just some encouragement like “ I’m gonna kick you butt Emmet!” Or “Your not gonna win this one Ingo!” Ya know, encouraging things to say to your brother.

▲ I think because of Emmet love for Julticks, he would be immune to Paralyze because of their static electricity. It feels like a jolt you get when you rub your socks on the carpet and touch the TV.

▽ because of Ingo’s warden job, he has become immune to poison as well. It took a bit for him to become immune, but he got there eventually.

▲ one of them is mildly allergic to peanuts. Do they remember who is allergic to peanuts? Nope, so they both don’t eat them just incase.

▽ I believe their started Pokémon to be a litwick and a Jultick respectful. They absolutely adore their starters and never took them off their team when building their teams and actually built them around their starters so they never have to trade them out.

▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽ ▲ ▽

I hope you guys enjoyed this! I might do more down the line like some angst headcannons or just ingo/just emmet headcannons. But these were so much fun to write :]

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Verboten - A Tyler Rake/OC Story.

It’s here, guys! The first chapter. I’ve been very excited to write it, I’m about six chapters in and I only started two days ago! I very much hope you like it. Please do remember to leave me a little comment if you do, I’d appreciate it more than you could ever know.

Story features a slightly AU Tyler. I mean, the events of Extraction did still happen (apart from the death of his son) but it’s his past, and I wrote it as having happened to him as a much younger man. This is a Tyler who has his shit together where addiction is concerned too and has built a different life for himself. 

Words - 3,428

Warnings - Not quite smut...but not far off!

Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :) 

Chapter playlist - Savage Garden - I want You

“Are you sure, button?”

Button. She’d been called that by her sisters for as long as she could remember.

“Of course, it’s just loading a dishwasher! Go to sleep, you’re knackered. We’ve got this.” Fist bumping her brother-in-law before handing over another rinsed dish to him, Zoey leaned back from the sink to kiss Ella, her second eldest sister goodnight, Tyler doing the same before she gladly left the kitchen, her weary feet carrying her upstairs to bed.  

Scratching at a stubborn patch of burned cheese sauce that had swathed Ella’s homegrown cauliflower, Zoey turned and passed the dish back, sighing. “She does too much, my sister. I could have helped tonight, cooked something and brought it with me, but nope, she can’t relinquish control.”

Tyler nodded, raising his eyebrows in agreement. “Yeah, that’s Ella all over. Believe me, I’ve considered tranquilisers.”  

Snorting with laughter, she washed her hands before ducking down to look under the sink, locating the dishwasher tablets while Tyler went to the large, double refrigerator, a vessel that was once sleek and beautiful prior to being covered in the drawings of his two elder children, Grace and Seth. Now sleek, modern design had been replaced by artistic interpretations of Peppa Pig and an array of stick representations of the family. His was the best, he thought, in full uniform. His daughter was immensely proud of the fact her daddy was a police officer.  

“Ahhh, go on then. My arm has been twisted,” she called when he whistled to attract her attention, waving a bottle of beer questioningly.  

“You don’t need any arm twisting. You were on the margaritas five seconds after walking through the door,” he snorted, Zoey looking mock aghast before shrugging, shutting the dishwasher door and pressing the correct button, the machine quietly rumbling into life.  

Taking the beer, she tapped the bottle off his. “Just because you can’t handle tequila. Remember the first night Fran and I met you?”

Immediately, he winced at the memory. God, he’d been slaughtered.  

“Shut up.”

“Never!” she announced, poking him in the shoulder with her fingernail. They hadn’t even meant to have met on that night, Ella being Ella wanting a perfect setting to introduce her brand-new boyfriend to the family, a pub lunch or the like so he could meet the Hudson’s in a nice, civilised manner for the first time.  

What she’d got was having to settle for him meeting two out of her three sisters while absolutely pissed out of his mind on a night out with a group of their mutual friends, running into Zoey and Fran at one of the bars they’d frequented. “You fell over and took a table full of people with you. I’ll give you your credit though, I haven’t seen you so drunk since.”  

Moving through to the lounge again, they sat down on the couch, a muffled squeak coming from beneath Tyler, who reached behind himself to pull out one of the kid’s toys, a plush chicken he threw in the general direction of the toy box. “Different life. It isn’t appropriate for an officer of the law to be that pissed up in public any longer. Besides, I’m too old to handle the hangovers.”  

“I think it has more to do with the hangovers than being a copper, mate. Mind you, that doesn’t stop you getting absolutely twatted sometimes when we go camping,” she pointed out, Tyler making an agreeable face.  

“Well...yeah. You always get in worse states than me, though. Like when you...” He began, his voice shuddering with laughter.

“Don’t.”

“Passed out after taking a piss and I found you, bare arse up in the undergrowth.” Shaking with laughter at her reaction, he fended off the onslaught of her feet, kicking him softly in the thigh. He truly guffawed when she managed to hurt her foot more than him, though.  

“Fucking made of rocks!” she announced. Of course, after his life, he truly was. Army first, private military work for a short time afterwards, and then for the last six years, the Queensland Police Service. He spent what a lightweight fitness enthusiast like Zoey considered to be an unfeasible amount of time in the gym, too. “Also, I take exception to that. You’ve drank way more than me tonight, for example.”

She had him there. “Well, yeah.” He conceded, taking another swig of beer. “It’s been a fuck pig of a week.”

“Ahhhh mate, you’ve had a week?” It was her and her sister’s term for having a bad week, although the term bad was never used. In their family, if you’d had ‘a week’, it had likely been hellish. No negative adjective was needed.  

“I’ve had a week.” He paused, sinking the rest of his beer before getting up and walking over to the drink's cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Fireball and two glasses. He brought them back, placing the square vessels upon the table, pouring two measures. “Cheers.” Clinking glasses with her, he sank the contents, immediately pouring out another measure, Zoey sipping hers at a more sedate pace.  

“Are you alright?”

He sniffed, rubbing his face and sighing, “Ish. I haven’t had a week. I’ve had a six months.”  

“Work?”  

“Yeah, a bit.” But no, not really. Zoey knew it too.  

“Come on, tough guy. Spill. What’s up? I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit quiet all night, which isn’t like you when everyone comes round.” She was the last of the guests who had attended for Ella’s 36th birthday dinner, their babysitter falling through right at the last minute meaning plans had to change, a meal at home rather than a night out replacing the celebrations.  

“If not work then, what? Are the kids all okay?” He nodded, leaving her to draw only one conclusion, not that she could believe that the perfect couple of the family could ever have a significant issue. “My sister?”

He puffed his cheeks out, exhaling a long breath, considering his options. “This is a tough spot to be in here, because you’re my sister-in-law, but also, you just so happen to be one of my best mates, so in theory you’re the person I likely would bend the ear of in this situation, but because you’re Ella’s sister, I feel conflicted.” His words confirmed her question.  

“Well, if you want to talk, I’ll listen without judgement. In fact, being her sister, I might be able to give you the best advice on what to do.” He sank another Fireball, topping up her glass when she placed it back on the large, railway sleeper constructed coffee table Zoey loved so much. She often joked that she was going to steal it one day, Ella telling her that if she was capable of sneaking something so big and heavy out of their front door then she was welcome to it. It took two people to move.  

He remained silent for a while, sinking further shots, looking pained, until he spoke again, scratching his forehead as he took a deep breath. “I feel like a selfish shit, I do, but you see the thing is, your sister is...she’s been different since Lani was born. I think we’re growing apart. She never really wants to do anything, tonight wasn’t for lack of a babysitter, we could have got the kid across the road to pop over at short notice, she just decided that she didn’t want to go out. She never does, and I get that she’s tired but fuck, does she think I’m not, with the hours I work and then coming home to her and three kids?  

“Then there’s what makes me feel selfish, the fact we haven’t had sex in seven months, not since before Lani was born. She was never like that with the other two, which just leads me to believe it’s me she has the problem with. She isn’t affectionate any longer either. If I try and hug her or give her a kiss, things like that, she pulls away. It’s a stark contrast to who she was, but she’s been slipping away like this for a while.” He hiccupped, toying with the idea of pouring another drink before conceding that he was drunk enough, setting the glass down and sighing again. “So, what do I do, mate?”

“Talk to her?” Zoey offered.

“Tried, she shrugs it off as not being a problem and says when she’s ready, she’ll come and jump on me, but that she isn’t yet. She does the same when I mention us becoming more social, or rather just makes excuses why not. My mum will offer to come and look after the kids so we can spend some time together, but she’s just not interested unless it’s one of the family gatherings. She’s gone into mum mode, and she’s such a fucking good mother, but in the process of that, sometimes I feel like I’m losing my wife.”

“Do you want me to talk to her?”

He looked undecided how to answer that before shaking his head. “Nah, Zo. She’d be livid if she knew I’d spoken to you about our problems. Mainly because she won’t acknowledge that we have any.”  

“Alright, well the only thing you can do really is keep pressing. Let her know how much it’s causing you anguish and continue to raise the subject with her. We both know how stubborn she can be, but she’ll come round. She loves you so much, Tyler. She’ll hear you if you’re persistent,” she enthused, squeezing his forearm supportively.  

“Until then, my right hand is gonna be real fucking busy.” Zoey shook her head, snorting laughing as she shoved him in the shoulder.  

“Dirty boy!” she scolded playfully.  

“I’m not, everyone does it. What can I say? I’ve been doing it a lot more since your sister shut her legs and fuckin’ kept ‘em shut. Shit. It’s annoying. I love shagging,” he complained.

“I know, I’ve been told! You have the tiny tribe of kids to prove it, too.” He just grinned, deciding that maybe another drink wasn’t so much of a bad idea when Zoey headed to the kitchen to grab another few of the remaining bottles of beer she’d brought with her, bringing four back. “At least you’ve had it more regularly than me. Thirteen months.”

He almost choked on his beer. “What the actual fuck?”  

“I know.”

“You haven’t gotten laid since Lee?” She shook her head. “Fuck! What the...damn, mate. That’s a hell of a dry spell.”  

“I need shares in Duracel,” she muttered, peeling her beer label, Tyler cracking up. “It got so bad, I bought one of those rechargeable ones, not thinking my electricity bill would go up that much.”

“And did it?” he questioned, taking what would prove to be an unfortunately timed sip of beer.

“Twenty bucks a month!” Those were the words that caused the spray, Tyler impersonating a human beer fountain and thusly soaking the carpet.  

“You should have said, I’d have set you up with Jimmy,” he offered, referring to one of his fellow officers whom he was good mates with.

“Jimmy fancies me?”  

“As if you haven’t bloody noticed,” he scoffed, Zoey shrugging expressively.

“I haven’t! Besides, he’s not my type.”

“You don’t have a type.”

“Yeah, I do!” she exclaimed, Tyler snorting. He hadn’t noticed one in the ten years he’d known her. The only common ground he’d picked up on was that she had a habit of picking utter wankers.  

“Okay, tiny. What’s your type?” he inquired, stretching his long legs out before crossing them beneath him. Tiny. She never thought she was that small until Tyler began referring to her as it. She was the little sister in all senses of the word, the youngest at twenty-nine and the smallest at five foot five.  

“Tall, jacked, hairy face, tattoos.” She only realised once the words were out of her mouth that she’d just described her brother-in-law to a tee. Embarrassed, much? Yes, she certainly was.  

“So, me then?” Ahhh, damn. Of course, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity to tease her slip away.  

“Yeah, big guy. All day, all night. In fact, I’m surprised I’m not dampening the couch right now with how studly you are!” she fired back. The best way to deal with Tyler about to head into a banter fest was to just go with it, or else she’d be screaming and hiding her face while he gradually got worse and worse.  

“Shall I go ask Ella if she minds me piledriving you for a couple of hours? You know, since she ain’t interested right now?” He joked. The way he looked at her though, just for a moment, there was a flicker of something in the cool blue of his eyes that Zoey immediately picked up on that was far from innocent. It was real, genuine desire she detected. What’s more, so did her insides, her stomach turning pleasantly.  

Of course, she thought Tyler was gorgeous, she wasn’t blind, but he was so off limits to her that she’d never, ever thought of him like that. Not only was he her sister’s husband, but a good friend to boot, so no, never. But, for a moment just then, a moment she realised she was dragging out by not reacting to his joke other than laughing slightly nervously.  

“You’re taking way too long to tell me to piss off, or commit acts of violence on me. Does Zoey want the D?”  

She could feel herself colouring up, reaching for the Fireball bottle. “Do me one, too. Before you confess you want to do me.”

“Tyler!”

“So you admit it? You want me? Shall I just pick you up and drop you on it?” Grabbing her round the waist, he hauled her onto his lap, Zoey screaming with laughter as he tickled her and then swiftly deposited her onto the floor, his laugh booming through the lounge.  

Picking herself up, she tidied her hair and straightened her top, glowering at him and muttering that he was a wanker, something that only made him laugh more as she sat back down. “Drink your damn drink!” she exclaimed, picking up hers and gesturing to the second with her glass before bolting it back, closing her eyes and just for a second, having it flash through her mind, Tyler on top of her, naked. Ella said he was hung like a horse too. Fuck.

‘Stop thinking about your brother-in-law's cock, you horny, drunken dipshit!’ She mentally scolded herself with, Tyler taking her glass and pouring another measure in. From his perspective, he needed it, realising that the stupidly normal act of rough playing with his sister-in law just caused him to get a dick twitch, one which wasn’t entirely unwelcome either.

He knew he had to kick her out and go and have a wank before he did something stupid, like staying up drinking with her, but Tyler Rake and sensible decisions didn’t always go hand in hand. After all, he’d married her sister after only thirteen weeks of dating. Ella. No. No, there was no way he could cheat on his beloved wife, no matter how rejected by her he felt, and with her sister? Oh god, why was he even considering it? Because the feel, the scent of her, her pretty hazel eyes and gorgeous, glossy dark hair had, for a fleeting moment, made his loins burn.  

‘You’ve never looked at her like that in the past, fuckin’ stop it, man.’ He told himself staunchly, downing his drink. Still though, neither of them spoke a word, both battling not to let their mental montages become any more indecent. As the silence stretched, so did their uncomfortableness, the tension starting to mount as they just sat there, refilling and sinking drinks, trying to dampen it. It didn’t work.  

With her heart hammering in her chest, Zoey didn’t even dare glace sideways at him, her ears ringing, her mouth dry, feeling jittery and too drunk to be a responsible adult. That meant one thing. Uber time.

“I’m gonna head home,” she spoke, her words doing nothing to dispel the mounting tension.  

“Okay, mate. Sorry for dropping you on the floor,” he replied, trying to be normal.

“No, you’re not. Twat.” He laughed, feeling somewhat like normality had been restored. When she looked up at him though, tousled, dark hair framing her smoky eyes, it took all he had not to haul her back onto his lap. Whatever the hell had been ignited, he wagered it would only be extinguished by her leaving and the pair of them sobering up. “Ooooh, three minutes until it’s here. I’m going to put my boots on.”

She got up with a slight wobble, rushing out of the lounge and down to the front door, pulling on her little black suede boots with the heels that propped her up a few more inches, opening the front door, glad of the cool, August air hitting her. It still didn’t stop her back from tingling when she felt the presence of Tyler behind her, though.  

“I think I’ll go wait outside. Tonight was great, I’ll see you guys soon.” Turning, she gave him what she’d planned to be a fleeting hug, but as soon as his chiselled body pressed to hers, oh lord, it went straight to her man-deprived crotch. What was happening? This was Tyler! Tyler, her brother-in-law, the man she should never, ever lust after, no matter how sex starved they’d confessed they both were. No.  

“G’night, Zo. See ya soon.” Kissing her cheek, he got a whiff of her perfume, that heady smell of the fragrance Poison filling his sinuses, ensnaring his senses, mixing potently with the fact he was drunk and absolutely hanging onto the urge to dive on her by the skin of his teeth. Fuck, what was wrong with him? 

Pulling away, his eyes met hers, blue fire twinkling at golden hazel through the darkness, and that was all it took for the control to snap, their mouths connecting, arms locking, Tyler immediately picking her up and flattening her against the hallway wall, her legs tightening around his waist. Christ, he felt amazing between her thighs, such a big, solid mass of man. Then there was the way he kissed her. Fuck, the passion, the fury, the fire.

He knocked the breath from her completely. 

He was so hot, the temperature of his body like being wrapped around a furnace, that heat daggering right to her crotch as she felt her centre begin to tingle with arousal, just from a kiss. He tasted of spicy cinnamon, his tongue pressing in a sensuous roll against hers, his hands clutching at her thighs tightly, a deep baritone of want rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. He was overwhelming, oozing raw sexuality, Zoey feeling like she was both burning and drowning. All from a kiss. 

Oh god, she was in too deep, she knew she had to pull herself back out, but her willpower was drowned by about four shots of Fireball too many. It was so bad of them, even through their drunken hazes their brains screamed at them to cease, to leave the forbidden fruit upon the tree and walk the fuck away, but they couldn’t. Not until the Uber beeped outside.  

“Put me down. Fuck, we shouldn’t have done that. Fuck!”

“I know, I’m sorry. Never again, let’s just forget it, we’re drunk and horny, stupid too. Message me to let me know you got home alright.”

Zoey shot out through the front doorway at a run, throwing an “alright” over her shoulder, getting into the taxi and taking a few deep breaths, realising she was panting harder than a marathon runner.

“Not gonna be sick are you, darlin’?” The chirpy driver asked, Zoey not entirely sure.

“No, no I’m good. I’ll open the window though, just in case.” Either way, she needed the cold, spring air, maybe to sober the hell up more than anything, because she must have been more wasted than she thought she was, to ever consider kissing her sister’s husband as a viable option.  

Back at the house, Tyler thought much the same, having to stand there and wait for his cock to deflate again before going upstairs, to the bed he shared with the sister of the woman who had made it hard in the first place. The woman who wasn’t his wife. Even through his drunken stupor, he knew it was wrong. However, he couldn’t stop replaying the moment through his head over and over.  

It was only every other playback that he lambasted himself for it, too.  

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 10

Masterlist

Shoutout to my bestie @acollectionofficsandshit for all the drunk comments she made while betaing this one... Wish you guys could see them lol

Word Count: 4.8k

Recommended song: “Amnesia" by 5SOS

Pierre paces in his dinky trailer at the Circuit of the Americas and desperately tries to forget you exist. He had already taken down the pictures on the wall but the images were burned into his brain. He had shoved your shirt under his bed, having absolutely no idea how it had made its way halfway around the world to taunt him.

He was slowly unraveling like a spool of thread on a loom as you wove him irrevocably into the tapestry of your life.

The race in Austin started in less than two hours and you hadn't texted him. Not once in the handful of years he'd known you had you neglected to wish him luck before a race, even if it was 2 am your time or you had exams, you always took thirty seconds to warn him to be safe and finish well.

He was beginning to think you hated him for how he'd acted at the gala last weekend, jealous and possessive from afar. Talking to you would have been the better choice. But seeing you laugh and dance the night away had hurt too much. He’d slipped out early after Victoria assured him she could find a ride and sped home to fall apart.

He had only barely managed to piece himself together in time for the race.

Pierre checks his phone for the third time in as many minutes and swears under his breath. He didn't know why he expected it to ring and for your face to pop up at this point. Even if you called to tear into him, he'd still fall to his knees at the sound of your voice. He just wanted to hear you speak, didn't care what was said, only that he could latch onto your words and lose himself in them.

Hope sparks when his phone chimes but he nearly throws it across the trailer when he sees Charles' name.

Heard from her yet?

No. At this point I'm beginning to think I never will again.

Maybe she fell asleep early?

It's 5 pm in London. I'll bet you she's eating a bowl of takeout from the Chinese place down the street, not sleeping.

Its still possible. Don't dwell on it. This isn't the headspace you wanna be in before a race. Block it out. I don't wanna see my best friend wind up hurt today.

Pierre didn't reply, if only because Charles was right. Worrying would get him nowhere. After his shitty qualifying yesterday, he started thirteenth on the grid so he had his work cut out for him. Austin offered plenty of opportunity for overtakes; he could get the job done if his team made the right calls. 

And if he made it to the podium, you would have to text him.

The thin mattress groans when he sits to unlace his hastily tied race boots. He folds his legs to sit criss cross and places his palms on his knees. The familiar pose already has some of the tension leaving his shoulders as his eyes slide shut. He breathes in for ten seconds, reflecting on what ails him. He holds the breath for five seconds before releasing it slowly.

He repeats the process until he comes to terms with the fact that you won't be wishing him luck. That was your choice; there was nothing he could do about it and therefore no sense reading into it. He had done all he could to convince you to trust him. The ball was in your court; he had to be patient and wait for you to take a shot.

“Focus,” he murmurs to himself, forcing any erroneous thoughts from his head. “Walk through the track.”

The circuit at Austin was challenging, consisting of a mix of 20 sweeping corners and scattered hairpins. He was almost lucky in a way to be starting so far back on the grid because turn one was only a few hundred meters from pole and their tires would be slightly colder and less grippy upon arrival than his would be. The few extra seconds afforded to him by starting thirteenth could mean the opportunity to leap frog past his rivals in the first corner.

The counterclockwise circuit meant he would have to keep an eye on his front left tire too, as it would wear faster than the others. He'd change gears an average of 66 times per lap, higher than similar length tracks like Monaco. Pit stops cost an average of nineteen seconds, meaning he would need to build a significant gap to the driver chasing him in order to avoid the threat of any undercuts.

There were too many variables occupying space in his mind to afford you a sliver of it.

Some time later he decides that his four leaf clover tucked safely in the worn leather of his wallet will provide all the luck he needs and switches on his pre race playlist after popping in his ear buds.

"Sights on the podium," he murmurs to himself, hand on the doorknob. "Let's race."

The bass flows through him as his feet carry him to the Alpha Tauri garage on autopilot, through the back entrance and to his plain white driver room. The familiar beats are a numbing salve spread on his frayed nerves, his anticipation rising like a crimson wave in his veins. He leaves his clothes in a haphazard heap in the corner and changes into the white fireproofs hanging nearby, thoughts momentarily veering to you knocking on the door and stripping them right back off.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he runs through his usual stretch sets until Pyry arrives to walk him through reflex exercises.

"How's your head?" Pyry asks, running him through more cool down stretches. "Do we need to take a minute and do some meditation?"

"Beat you to it," Pierre grunts out, pushing back against the hand on his head to work his neck. "I'm good."

"You sound better than you have all week, I'll give you that. Keep that focus, use it to propel yourself forward."

"Run me through the lineup again," Pierre requests, "I need something else to think about."

Because if he let his mind follow the path it wanted to, it would inevitably lead to you and undo the work he had done to avoid that. He needed to be empty of anything that wasn't racing, anything else was an unnecessary distraction that had the potential to end in disaster.

Pyry rattles off the grid in order of who Pierre needs to overtake, pausing between each name to give him time to recall their driving styles and potential chinks in their armor to exploit. He knew from tapes of previous years that Stroll often ran wide into turn one, giving Pierre the option to brake late and sweep up the inside. Vettel was half convinced the track was cursed, so his mind would work against him enough that Pierre could exploit it and get past at some point. He continued until he got to Hamilton and Max locking out the front row, where he would need a bit of luck to overtake.

"You got it?" Pyry asks, stepping back.

Pierre rolls his shoulders and nods. 

"Get shit done mate," Pyry says and bumps fists with his driver. He slips out to allow Pierre a moment to center himself before slipping into his race suit, leaving it half unzipped and tying it around his waist before following his trainer.

Pyry leads the way to where the matte navy and white car waits, mechanics swarming it like studious worker bees tending to their queen. No one talks to him save his engineer because words from anyone else threaten to break his carefully constructed race mentality. If they wanted him to bring home points, they knew to leave him alone once he was suited up.

His mind is blank of anything but statistics as he twists his ear buds in and pulls on his balaclava and helmet. As his vision narrows to the sliver of track he can see through his visor, so does his focus. With forty minutes to lights out, he's directed out onto the track. He rips the wheel to the right as he exits the garage, getting a decent powerslide for his efforts.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would land on the podium, if only to see the look on your face when he did.

**********

It took an unfathomable amount of restraint to keep yourself from calling Pierre to wish him luck.

You texted Max instead, wishing him a safe and comfortable podium a half hour before lights out. He hadn't responded, likely already in the garage with his trainer going through his pre race routine.

The pace Max had set the day before had awarded him pole position and the margin between him and Hamilton had been enough that you were confident in his ability to hold off the Mercedes for all fifty six laps.

If you were honest with yourself, you were disappointed that the Alpha Tauri you so desperately tried to ignore would be starting in thirteenth. You try not to think about it, instead queueing up SkySports and opening your laptop for pre race coverage. You avoid the interviews in favor of listening to the commentators analyze the grid.

"It should be an easy win for Max as long as he fends off Hamilton until the first round of pit stops. The undercut works well here, as Red Bull proved last year, and I'm sure they plan on doing the same thing this year."

You hum in agreement, gingerly sipping your steaming tea. You really ought to consider a career as a sportscaster at this point based on how often you came to the same conclusions they did.

"I think one of the biggest shakeups is Russell starting all the way up in eleventh after his amazing qualifying for Williams yesterday. Think he can hold onto that position?"

"He's got some fierce competition not far behind in the form of Alpha Tauri. Gasly starts thirteenth- surprisingly far back on the grid given the otherwise flawless performance he's shown this year. But it seems likely that he should be able to overtake-"

You flick the tv on mute, unable to stomach listening to them sing his praises. You numb your mind with social media until the Formula 1 theme plays on your laptop, alerting you that there's a few minutes until race start. Tire blankets are peeled off and the drivers weave their way through the formation lap with the exception of Kimi who takes his traditional straight line approach to warm up his supersoft tires. 

Most of the front runners are on ultrasofts, indicating a two stop strategy. It was Pirelli's recommended approach, and you were glad that Horner heeded their advice for once and let Max use the ultras in Q2. It would give Max the upper hand over Hamilton who starts on the yellow sidewall tire and thus slightly slower lap times.

Crofty and Brundle break down the notable turns as the cars line up on the grid, pointing out the sharp hairpin only a few hundred meters from pole position. If Max got away clean, he would be ahead of the cramped pack and have an even better edge over the silver arrows who would be forced to queue behind him.

The traditional "lights out and away we go" kicks off the grand prix, engines roaring into the first turn. Max does manage to get away clean and is awarded with an immediate advantage. Turn one proves tragic for the Alfa Romeo of Raikonnen and the Asthon Martin of Stroll who collide and cause Kimi to spin. They rejoin at the back of the pack, your eyes snagging on the navy and white of an Alpha Tauri as it streams past. 

Your heart spins in a similar fashion when the GAS driver tag leaps up two places in the timing table, suddenly in eleventh due to the incident. Your gaze snaps to the laptop humming on your legs before you remember its Max's driver cam you queued up. The Dutchman is silent as his engineer relays information about the incident and informs him of the widening gap between those chasing him. 

“Confirm received,” Gianpiero says calmly. No matter the situation or how heated Max got, he always kept his head. It was what made the duo such a good match and had likely kept Max from going off the rails on more than one occasion.

“Yeah,” Max says shortly, clearly pissed about how quickly Hamilton was approaching. “Let me know when I’ve got enough charge to get out of range.”

“Yep, will do. Just keep this pace and you’ll hold him at bay.”

Live coverage replays the incident between Stroll and Raikonnen from the view of onboard with Pierre. The instant the 10 on the halo appears in the center of your screen you suck in a breath. He yanks the wheel to avoid colliding with Ocon, who had to do the same to keep from hitting his teammate as they navigate through the carnage.

You chew on your lip and try to refocus on the battle between the front runners. Not much is happening in the midfield for the next thirty or so laps and Max just barely manages to build a solid enough gap between himself and Hamilton to dive into the pits comfortably without losing places. 

Your phone rings and you answer it without checking who it was as the only person you wouldn't answer was currently occupied.

"Hello?"

"Why the fuck didn't they pit Daniel?!"

You grin, noting the blistering beginning on his front left tire as SkySports switches to his onboard camera. "Because he's about to pass Charles," you tell Dan's girlfriend. She didn't call you often during races. It was likely that she knew you were nearing your wits end and this was her way of offering support.

"He won't be able to with those tires- oh." She breaks off when Daniel passes a DRS detection zone and his rear wing opens, allowing him to pass the Monegasque with ease. 

"Told you," you say with a touch of reprimand. "You're always too nervous about those things. Daniel knows how to drive, just trust him to get the job done and he'll bring home another trophy for your apartment."

"I don't live here," she points out and you roll your eyes. She had lived in London as long as you had known her, but she was almost always at Daniel's apartment whether he was in town or not. Daniel digs in as the camera follows him for a lap, highlighting the widening gap between the McLaren and the Ferrari.

"You basically do. At this point, you're paying rent for a dusty one bedroom apartment on the east side that you set foot in maybe once a month." She scoffs but you push on, "a waste of sterling if you ask me, when you're at Daniel's every time I ask you to do anything."

"You act like I never- there goes Pierre!"

His name sparks dread in your gut as your attention flicks back to the screen in time to see him overtake Bottas on the inside of turn one. He'd managed to claw up to fifth with the move, somehow gaining places while you weren't looking.

"Good for him," you croak, trying your best to be genuinely happy for him. He was pushing the car to the limit and you'd be amazed if he didn't wind up on the podium along with Dan and Max. Charles and Hamilton were the only ones in his way, and something told you Charles wouldn’t put up much of a fight when his mate reached his gearbox. Hamilton would prove a challenge but he had been making tiny mistakes all day. Nothing significant, though enough to add up to him barely holding onto second while Daniel rode his gearbox.

"He's got ten laps to get past those two," she murmurs as if momentarily forgetting you were on the phone. 

"Can we talk about literally anything else please?" You whisper, half tempted to shut off the race completely. 

"Babe, you have to face the music at some point. Either you never want to see him again or you love him, which is it?"

She never failed to be anything but brutally honest. You appreciate it because everyone else let you brush off your problems, but she called you on your bullshit. She would needle you about it until you folded.

"I think it's better for both of us if I pretend we never met, don't you?"

"Easier for you, yes," she agrees. "But it'll kill Pierre. You don't think you could keep in touch with him, just as friends?"

"I don't know if I can handle that. I can barely look at him without wanting to bawl my eyes out."

She sighs, pausing to contemplate what to say. Voice soft, she continues, "Why don't you just take him back? Clearly it's ruining both of you. Are you really gonna let the press wreck the best you ever had? I know its hard but-"

"I'm not like you," you cut in. "I can't just ignore the articles and the comments and pretend there aren't people out there that hate me for being with him. They came to my house, disrupted my family. Hell, Ben can't even go to school without being mobbed by his classmates demanding answers. If my suffering is what allows my family to go about their lives then so be it."

"If that's what you wanna believe."

You sigh, tangling your fingers in the hem of your shirt. "It is."

"Alright," she says, voice teetering on a knife's edge. "I know better than to try to change your mind when you're like this. He's on the podium by the way. Oh, and watch what you say to Max- Pierre will read into it."

She hangs up without a goodbye, leaving you to deal with the realization that the podium is indeed VER RIC GAS on your own. Your eyes are glued to the Red Bull and McLaren drivers, blatantly ignoring the one in the white suit as the anthems play and the champagne is sprayed, turning away to busy yourself with making coffee when Daniel hands his liquid filled race boot to third place.

You weren't quite sure how you were supposed to watch what you said to Max- there was no reason to in your mind. Max was your next closest friend on the grid and you had every right to congratulate him if you wanted to.

Resolute in your decision, you text Max and Daniel a quick congratulations before shutting off the TV and closing your laptop.

Max's insane custom ringtone he'd selected for himself nearly makes you jump out of your skin when it blares from your phone.

"Hey great race-"

"Did you see it? I wasn't sure if you'd watch it- did you see my move on Hamilton when he tried to get past me?" He was talking a mile a minute like he was still out on track. "I was like- and then Dan tried to overtake me on the final lap and I was like no way! And then-"

"Max," you chime in, dragging out the 'a' with a sing-song voice. "You're rambling."

"Oh right. Yeah but I made it! Led every lap and finished with another win."

"That's great." You force as much enthusiasm in the words as possible, trying to match his chaotic energy. "You did great. I know it probably doesn't mean much, but I'm proud to be your friend. You beat a world champ!"

"It means a lot-" 

"Who's that?"

You stiffen at the familiar cadence. You had assumed Max was back in the garage when he called, but he must have still been in the podium room. You could picture him in his race suit, smudges of grease and dirt staining the pristine white. Beads of sweat probably ran down his neck, begging to be brushed away by your tongue. 

"Uh, no one," Max says in a lame attempt to cover up his digression. "I gotta go," he whispers to you. 

"Let me talk-"

"Wait don't," you start, but the call ends abruptly and you blink. You stare down at your phone, completely dumbfounded. Of course his instinct would be to talk to you, to share the euphoria of a podium with you. It was the first victory in three years he wouldn't have you to celebrate with.

It was only a matter of time until his resolve popped like the cork on his champagne.

**********

Pierre's phone is in his hand as soon as Max hangs up. He hefts his trophy in the other, a wild grin on his sweaty face as he snaps a picture. He makes sure he's the only one in the frame, shamelessly wanting himself to be the center of your attention.

"Mate," Daniel pipes up, catching his eye, "you think that's a good idea?" 

Pierre sighs, cutting the Australian a glare. "I'm just trying to fill her in."

"Wasn't your plan to give her space?"

"It's been a week, isn't that long enough?"

"Take it from me, sometimes it takes months for someone to figure things out. Hell, you know how long it took me to sort through my feelings for-"

"I know," Pierre cuts in. "I know. I just- a snap can't hurt can it? C'mon, I just got a podium! If it goes bad I can blame it on the post race jitters."

Daniel holds up his hands and shrugs. "You're a grown man. Do what you want."

Pierre studies the photo, scrutinizing the way his hair was plastered to his head and the awkward way he'd posed to keep anyone but himself out of the frame. It's his genuine smile that he knows will do you in, and ultimately the reason he sends it.

His phone is a lead weight clutched in his grip as he winds through the paddock, constantly stopped by vips and team members congratulating him. None of what anyone says registers, he just tries his best to match their mood and sputter praises about his team's contributions to his podium. 

The snap you finally send back is only from the eyes up, but it's enough. He's surrounded by people in his driver room, but for ten seconds it might as well have just been him staring at a sliver of your face on a screen.

The tiny lines at the corners of your shining eyes tell him you're smiling, which is a step in the right direction even if you won't let him see your entire face. It's enough to reignite the hope that slumbered in his chest while waiting for you to pull the trigger and make a move.

He sends back a video of the people in the room, who cheer when they realize they're being filmed. 'Wish you were here,' is what he captions it and sends it without giving himself a chance to overthink.

Ten minutes pass with no reply.

The beer he’s already consumed have given him a pleasant buzz as well as an excuse to make a bad decision or two. He takes another video of the room to post to his Instagram story, 'Missing you' written in the lower left corner.

Fuck, he hopes you'll see it and regret leaving him on read. Instead all he gets is a text from Charles chastising him for stirring up drama.

Really Pierre?

Blame it on the alcohol, he texts back. 

I know you aren’t drunk. You can’t form a coherent sentence when you are.

Guess i gotta drink more then

Pierre doesn’t turn anyone bearing alcohol away. He's two celebratory shots deep when Daniel finds him sulking in a corner. "You've got my girl texting me freaking out over your story. I've seen it and I gotta agree with her. Was that really necessary?"

"She left me on read," Pierre says like that was enough explanation. His head was spinning and it was getting hard to keep the room upright. "And it's the truth. I miss her like hell. I want her here. She was supposed to come, you know? I was gonna have her fly in with me on the jet. She doesn't start class again until June. I had this whole week planned out. I was gonna show her Texas- she’s from New York and..." 

He trails off when he notes Dan’s pitying smile. Daniel sighs and runs a hand through his curls. "I know. I get it, okay? I know it's hard but you can't force it. You've gotta let her come back on her own, all you're doing now is pushing her away."

He was fucking clueless when it came to these things. He'd had you for a few precious moments and now that he'd lost you he didn't know how to act. His mind was running on hazy autopilot; he barely knew which way was up, let alone did he trust himself to make any sort of important decision.

He stares down at the shot he'd been handed at some point before throwing it back. The cheap whiskey burns his throat but he barely registers the sting. "Should I take it down?"

"She already saw it," Daniel says gently, as if he anticipates how bad the fuck up will hurt. And it does. It hits him like a tire wall at two hundred kph, knowing that you were probably ranting or crying on the phone with Daniel’s girlfriend. "But yeah, that's probably best. People are already wondering what happened between you two, no need to throw fuel on the fire."

"You're probably right-" Pierre cuts off when Charles arrives with a grimace on his face. He shakes his head and gives his friend’s shoulder a squeeze. 

"For once I'm not the dumb one."

"You're a dick, you know that right?" Daniel says, allowing Pierre to delete the post. It takes him a few tries before he gets it down, but undeniably rumors will be circulating in the morning if they weren’t already.

"Honestly what were you thinking?" Charles demands, edging towards full blown yelling. "I told you to leave her be. The gossip stemming from this isn’t gonna help.”

The last thing he needed was someone else telling him how stupid his decision had been. At least Daniel had the decency to show sympathy. 

"Honestly?" Pierre responds with the same intensity, his anger flaring. "Honestly, Charles, I was thinking that she was happy for me but was too afraid to take the leap. She haunts me. Every second I’m awake I have to force myself away from her. Even when I’m asleep I can’t get away from her. So I don’t know, maybe I wanted to haunt her too."

“This isn’t the way you win her back and you know it.”

“I know!” Pierre throws up his hands. “But what else am I supposed to do? She won’t talk to me. She has no problem talking to Max or Daniel but apparently she draws the line at me.”

“You know it’s not-” Daniel's eyes flick to his phone and he fights back a grin. All it does is remind Pierre that he lost the person that could bring that sort of smile to his own face. "Fellas I wish I could stay and help but I gotta get going. Charles, I think Pierre needs another drink." He slaps five American dollars in the Monegasque's hand. "First one is on me."

Pierre is too deep in a spiral to care when his friend drags him from the party to a bar just south of the circuit. Somehow it was within walking distance; the floor was sticky and the lighting was for shit but he didn't care.

Pierre's focus was on downing shot after shot, erasing the broken image of you his mind had conjured up. He never should have posted the story. It only served to feed into what the media had been speculating for the past week and dredged up more tension between you.

Pierre stops checking his phone two shots later. The liquor provides a wet blanket over his senses, dousing him in cold water and scrambling his brain. He could barely remember his own name, but yours still lived in the corner of his mind.

Even drunk, he refused to forget you.

Two hours and who knows how much alcohol later, Charles helps Pierre back to his hotel room.

Pierre falls asleep as soon as he hits the mattress, head too blurry to dredge up memories of you.

[shanscript]

Hey, this is for the matchup you’re doing. (If you’re still doing it that is, no worries if you aren’t) Also, I am a gay guy so I hope me requesting is alright, if you don’t feel comfortable writing MxM stuff you don’t have to!

1. My Haikyuu fave is Nishinoya

2. My pronouns are he/him

3. p if possible

4. I’m more of a morning person than a night owl

5. Iced coffee all the way

6. YouTube

7. I am a very big introvert

8. neutrals

9. Shuffled playlists

your toy matchup is the helix syn & jelly 💕

part of my playthings 1k matchup event!

who: noya x p!reader

what: adult characters, gentle ass play, prostate massaging, hand & mouth action, noya loves taking care of you

my darling anon yes YES a thousand times yes!! i’ve been dyyying to do a queer matchup, so i bumped you right up to the front of the line. AND your fave is noya?? YOUR TASTE IS IMMACULATE. i’m so happy you dropped by. i will always be down to write queer smut and am comfy writing p!pov anytime love 🥰 hope this is to your liking! (ps: i sprinkled in my fave lube. it smells soooo good & feels amazing)

“Lemme know when it’s too much,” Noya assured you with a breathy kiss to your inner thigh, adding just the right amount of teeth. He had you laid back in the pillows, putting your comfort first so he could have all of your attention. Your head was already in your hands, feeling his hot breath curl around your balls. The way Noya lusted after you never failed to make you a blushing mess of nerves and excitement. You watched him sheepishly through a crack in your fingers.

“M..mhm,” you hummed, adding a shaky nod.

“Don’t worry babe,” Noya briefly nuzzled you high on your thigh, licking a fat stripe under the edge of your balls, “I gotchu.”

You tried to focus on relaxing as he cracked open a bottle of sweet-smelling lube. He liberally lathered his fingers, palms, and his new toy he’d been begging to use with you. Your knees jumped up visibly when his slick fingers slid between your asscheeks. You breathed out something short of a moan. He kissed your inner thigh again as his fingertip teased your hole.

“Do me a favor,” he called out to you gruffly, “hold your knees up.”

Your hands may have been your only hiding place, but you’d do anything he told you to. You reached down to curl your fingers around your soft joints, tugging them up and apart. Noya hummed his approval loudly, and his hands didn’t hesitate their exploration. He wrapped his fingers around the base of your swollen cock, and the others stroked circles around your tense hole.

After thoroughly dissolving you into a desperate mess on his fingers, working and stretching you open while smoothly fisting your length, he deemed you more than ready. Your eyes narrowed and mouth gaped when he pushed the silicone inside. The fat head of the toy strained your prostate on the first pass. Noya wiggled and adjusted it over and over, just to watch you squirm. Your knees quaked as he massaged and teased your p-spot. A dull heat rose from your toes, all the way up your legs, to coil between your hips. One firm arm of the toy prodded your perinuem with electric pressure. Looking up at you, Noya traced the seam of your shaft with his deft tongue. For good measure, of course.

It definitely felt like too much. But you never wanted him to stop.

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