#paul talks a little about his past here

[crazyk-imagine]

Hi, I was thinking Jacob Black x Reader. Where Jacob was waiting for Reader to come out of school till he heard commotion in front of the school and saw Reader fighting a bully who is a guy. She has a bruised lip and bleeding nose. Jacob hurriedly pick up Reader and take her to Emily’s so she can chill out and so Emily can patch her up. The pack saw her and they started asking questions till Emily started lecturing her.

Jealousy and Pack Scolding's

Pairing: Jacob Black x Uley!reader

Characters: Jacob Black, Uley!reader, Paul Lahote, Jared Cameron, Embry Call, Leah Clearwater, Seth Clearwater, Quil Ateara V, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being an idiot, Sam not liking the imprinting, this was actually kind of cute, I think I made Jake a likable character (for me), Emily is an angel, Sam and Emily are my fav, reader has avoided making eye contact with Jake bc she has a crush, Sam knows whats up, Embry just wants his imprint, Paul is such a big brother here, love writing for the wolfpack, it's so much fun, reader knows about imprints

Word Count: 2,431

A/N: Ask and you shall receive... this was fun and totally not inspired by Jake fics where he's a little jealous shit

I've aged probably everyone sooo, Sam is 26, Emily is 25. Leah is 23. Jared and Paul are 19 (in a nearby community college) and just one semester from graduating. Jake, Reader and Embry are 18. Quil, Seth, Brody are 17. Cam and Seth are 16

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He kicks his bike stand up, so it stays upright while he waits for you to exit the school. He crosses his arms, not wanting anyone to talk to him, hoping he looks “menacing” enough for his classmates to get the hint and steer clear of him.

He knows Quil and Embry made their way back to Emily's since Sam wants them to do their patrol shift as soon as they can once they finished with their last class.

He couldn't complain much considering he was able to go home and change before heading back to pick you up so he could successfully switch shifts with Embry, which annoys him since Sam basically ordered him to pick you up.

He’d be more okay with it if you two were friends- or even talking; he doesn’t know why he was put to the job since you two aren’t close- or at least, compared to Jared and Paul.

Jake did recently find out (after complaining to the guys when their alpha wasn’t around) you’re Sam's niece and Emily has taken a light to you, thinking of you as her own daughter.

And the only reason he thinks that is because of how she treats you; it always reminds him of the way his mom took care of him and his sisters when they were younger.

Don't get him wrong, he has no problem with that or the way she treats you, he's more curious than anything since you haven't been talking to him.

It kind of bugs him that you talk to Paul and Jared more than him and isn't sure why. He gets the two shifted before everyone, but you've started talking to Embry and Quil so why not him too? Hell, you’ve even started making small talk with the newest shifters Brady and Collin.

He thinks this is why Sam sent him here, so he'll stop moping around about you and not just because the pack is tired of hearing how sad he is with you not talking to him.

The chanting, "fight, fight, fight," overtakes his sense in waiting for you and he steps closer.

He stops behind the wall of people, checking on who's fighting, curious as to who's stupid enough to fight on school property.

The fist flies to your face and he starts fighting his way to get past the people blocking him from getting to you.

You spit, not wanting the copper taste to remain in your mouth. You turn your head back to David, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of feeling like he won.

You kick his upper thigh, right above his knee and knock him down before pulling your arm back and drive your fist as hard as you can into his cheek.

He falls and cups his cheek, whining about the pain and the fact that he's bleeding.

"Talk about my family again and you'll be bleeding more."

Jacob finally breaks through the crowd and pushes David's friend away before the guy could grab you. "Back off," he growls.

The friend raises his hands in defense and backs away, noticing how buff he'd gotten and knows better to not fight Jacob.

He turns to you, smelling blood on you and cups your face, searching to find the damage, ignoring your eyes as the blood from your lip drips further down your chin. "Come on."

He puts you on the back of his bike and starts it before kicking the kickstand.

-

You unwrap your arms and get off the bike, trying to put distance between you, Jacob, and your home.

He grabs your wrist, "where do you think you're going?"

"Away."

"Just because you want to hide your face from Emily and Sam, doesn't mean you can run away."

"I can still try." You tug on his arm. "Let me go."

"No, you need to go in there and face them."

You stop fighting and he lets go of you, trusting that you won't leave. "I don't want Sam to be disappointed."

"Did you pick a fight with David on purpose?"

You shake your head, "of course not."

"Then he won't be disappointed... as long as you talk to him."

"Says the guy who fights him every chance he gets."

That earns a chuckle from Jake. "Says the mousy niece."

You scoff, shoving his arm. "Hey, I'm not mousy."

"This is the longest conversation we've ever had."

"That's your fault, you're always mopey."

"I am not."

"Are so."

"Am"- You walk through the door.

Emily's voice interrupts yours and everyone else's conversations. "I'm happy to see the two of you are talking." She smiles with a twinkle shining in her eye that quickly dies as soon as she catches sight of your face.

"Oh my- what the hell happened to you?" She grabs your chin, tilting so she can look at your face. "Who did this?"

Paul tenses, Jared tries to see over her shoulder.

Embry and Quil walk through the back door and glance at one another with concern evident on their faces once they realize what’s happened.

"Don't tell, Sam," you reply, staring into her eyes, practically begging her not to tell him.

"Don't tell me what?"

You grimace and then wince because your adrenaline has worn off and the pain has surfaced. "How much I love you?" You say without turning.

"I don't buy it." He wraps an arm around Emily, pecking her cheek. "Did you cut your finger again?" He asks with the scent of blood wafting through the room.

"Uh-" She catches your eye as she glances down at her hands. "Maybe, I don't know."

You attempt to sneak away while he's distracted and fail.

"Turn around."

You pout, keeping your head low as you turn.

"Lift your head."

"I like staring at my shoes while they're clean."

He grumbles your name under his breath.

You lift your head and sigh. "I may have gotten into an altercation at school."

"What the hell happened?"

"That's what I was asking before you got here?" Emily chimes in. "And I was avoiding it then."

"What did you do?"

You scoff, "I didn't do anything, you dick."

"That is no way to talk to your uncle," she tells you.

You stare at her, "I'm going to give him the same respect he gives me," and turn to him. "Which is none."

You exit the room when you realize none of you are going to be able to have a proper conversation and make your way to your room, slamming the door behind you.

-

"What happened while you were waiting for her?" Sam towers over Jacob, attempting to search through his mind to figure out what could have happened.

"I don't- I don't know. I was waiting and then I heard the other kids chanting, fight and then I saw her get hit and then take down David-"

"Wait- she was fighting David?" Jared chimes in with a smile.

"He deserves it," Paul adds.

"Guys a grade A asshole," Embry says before snacking on a muffin.

"So, this fight was valid?" Sam asks, wanting to understand everything he's learned within the last five minutes.

"No, it wasn't valid because fighting isn't the solution, is it boys?" Emily turns to the boys at the table.

"No," everyone answers.

"Good," she smiles.

"But this hasn't happened before? What's happened? This David- or whoever clearly said something for her to act out."

"He was talking about my family," you tell them, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

"That doesn't give you enough reason to fight," she tells you.

"It does when they start making fun of your dead parents and uncle who's running a cult."

They purse their lips.

"How do you feel?"

You shrug, "my fist and face are aching, so I'd say I did something right."

She sighs. "Fighting isn't the answer."

"I know that!"

"Then why did you do it?"

Your emotions cause you to snap. "I was tired of him thinking he could still bully me!"

She takes a few steps closer to you. "This has been going on for a while now. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't want either of you to walk into the principal's office thinking you could stop it when it'd only make things worse," you grumble.

"We could have found another way to stop him from making comments."

"I took care of it the only way I could."

"There's always more than one way-"

"I know," you run your fingers through your hair in a frustrated manner. "I wasn't thinking but he wouldn't shut up. He waited a few months, giving me a grievance period but then he started talking shit again and today he wouldn't leave me alone."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Jared asks.

"Yeah," you scoff, "because I wanted you guys to help when the hothead is one fight away from being expelled. Everyone still thinks those two," you point to Embry and Quil. "Are weird because they suddenly got buff and had a haircut. Don't even mention the fact that Jake along with Brody and Cam are the new talk of the pack."

Sam sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "Just, go clean the blood off as best you can, and Emily will wrap your wounds."

"I already did."

"Then go get the first aid kit and bring it in here."

You walk back into the bathroom throwing everything you’d laid out on the counter back into the bag and aim for the kitchen. "Heal me with your magical powers, Em."

She smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulders as she guides you to the island so she can use the natural light to check over you. "Does this hurt?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, let me know when it-"

You suck in a deep breath through your teeth.

"Hurts. You okay?"

"Peachy, Em."

"I know you had to defend yourself today, but fighting isn't always the answer."

"Yeah, I know," you reply with an attitude.

"I'm just reminding you, so you don't continue hurting yourself. You're not like the others, and I don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Thanks, Emily," you wrap your arms around her and pull her in for a long hug.

She smiles, returning the hug. "Don't go getting into fights again or else I'm going to bubble wrap you."

You chuckle. "As long as you save me from a Sam lecture."

"Deal." She slides the plate with muffins, closer to you. "Eat something first."

The guys shake their heads at your behavior.

"Does this mean I can hang out with you guys?"

"You hang out with us already," Jacob points out.

"Cliff diving." You unwrap your muffin.

"Absolutely not," your uncle tells you.

"Come on."

"No,” Sam shakes his head.

"Guys," you beg, turning around to look at the others.

"We're not getting involved in that," Paul raises his hands, heading towards the couch.

- Extra -

"Wha-"

"I'm with Paul," Embry tells you, pulling Quil with him as they sit beside Jared.

You turn to face your knight in shining armor. “Jake-”

He turns away from the others and glances back at you, the humor falling from his face.

“Oh, shit,” Jared mutters.

“Are you serious?” Embry whines.

You owlishly blink trying to figure out what’s happened when he falls to his knees. You set your muffin down and push yourself off the stool to stand in front of him. You poke his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“It’s you,” he mutters.

You raise your head and face the others with a scared and confused expression. “Guys, what the hell just happened?”

Paul smirks and looks away.

Jared buries his face with a muffin.

Embry and Quil face the tv, not wanting to see how things plays out.

Brady and Collin walk through the door.

“Holy shit,” the former says.

“Congrats, Jake. You finally got your imprint,” the latter adds.

“What?” You spin around to face Emily. “Imprint? That’s what just happened?”

Sam rubs a hand over his face. This was the last thing they needed.

“Did we- did you not know?” Brady asks you.

“Does this look like the face of someone who’s in the know? Does it. Brady?”

Collin pulls his buddy away before you can rip their heads off.

“I think we need to talk,” Sam says, pulling Jacob off the ground. “Outside.”

You three stand on the porch, trying to wrap your heads around the whole situation.

-

“I don’t know what this means,” you tell them.

“This means, no being alone in your room. No sneaking out after curfew. No-”

“Sam, we’re not dating. This doesn’t apply to us.”

“It could,” he says, finally snapping out of his mind.

“What?”

“It- the imprint bond doesn’t happen by accident, it’s the joining of when two soulmates find each other.”

“So, we’re soulmates?”

He nods.

“I thought you were in love with Bella?”

“I was.”

“And now you’re not? You couldn’t have moved on that fast just because of this bond.”

He sighs, “I know this is going to be a lot of work, but I want to get to know you whether we go out or not… even though dating you-”

The clearing of someone’s throat cuts him off.

He sheepishly smiles, rubbing the back of his head. “We’ll talk more later.”

You can’t help but giggle and wince soon after.

He’s kneeling in front of you in seconds, searching for any sign of pain. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. My lip is going to be the kill joy of my existence for a few days but I’m fine.” You place a hand on his shoulder, “thanks for pulling me out of there when you did.”

He shakes his head, “it was nothing.”

“It was more than you know, and I know you were only there because Uncle Sam made you, but I still wanted to thank you.”

He can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his lips. “I’ll always be there for you.”

-

Sam throws you over his shoulder. “Babe, where’s the extra wood I keep for the winter?”

“Back room, why?” She asks, watching as you beat on his back.

“I’m locking some doors.”

“Sam, no!” You screech. “Boys, help me.”

“He’s the alpha, what he says go,” Paul tells you.

“You suck, Lahote.”

“You’re gonna be swallowing, princess.”

Paul has never shifted and ran out of his alpha’s place as quickly as he did today.

The others lose their minds as he runs all around, nearly bumping into the clearwater siblings as they head towards the place.

-

Tag list (if you'd like to be added or removed, don't hesitate to ask)

@kmc1989 @gilbertgirl13

[ebony-blood]

Poly!The Lost Boys x Reader 

Warnings/AN: They’re a packaged deal, ofc you’re getting all four. Yandere/obsessive stuff because they’re just like that. I tried to be as gender-neutral as possible, lemme know if I need to fix anything.

You have been in Santa Carla for about a year now, you wanna know how long it took for the boys to fall for you? 2 months

Paul fell first, bro spent a whole 2 hours daily rambling to Marko about how much he loved you, how perfect you were in his eyes, how cute you were…

Gender doesn’t matter to these rat bastards, you’re still Paul’s Cutie

Marko fell next, listening to Paul rant about your utter perfection, thus, he started believing you were an angel, literally an angel.

And that’s when the two boys started stalking you, following you around the boardwalk and practically growling at anyone that approached, male, female, whatever

Paul practically has heart eyes every time he sees you, every single time.

Dwayne is next, and he falls WAY harder than the other two

Mr. Tall, dark and handsome over here will follow you home daily, he waits for nightfall and comes out to see you, when he’s not with his brothers, he’s around you.

He may as well be lying on a bed, writing in a notebook about how much he loves you, giggling and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl

So, the three that AREN’T David fall in love with you in two months, David followed shortly behind, and only a month after Dwayne fell, David was fucking INFATUATED.

He has it BAD, like, god, it’s even worse than his brothers.

Eventually, all four of the boys decide they wanna talk to you, and goddammit the minute you open your mouth they’re even more in love with you. 

And so, they start leaving you anonymous gifts, roses, jewelry, Marko paints for you, anything they can think of, they’ll steal it and leave it on your porch. 

It took a few months, but when you realized they were giving you the gifts, you started hanging out with them more, and soon, you were taken to the cave.

They loved you, obviously.

It took almost no time for you to fall for their silly personalities, and that was when they knew they had you.

They became protective, but not outwardly obsessive.

At least, you thought so. 

After they started dating you, they started getting worse in their stalking.

They had a system, every other week, sometimes months between instances, one of them would silently stalk you, keeping hidden in the dark, and one or two of them would pretend to bump into you when you start freaking out.

You were always too freaked out to ask how they were there.

You found out they were vampires when you caught them killing and feeding on a guy who had been actually stalking you. You were freaked out at first.

Eventually, David managed to calm you, promising they would never hurt or kill you.

Now that we’re past all the meetings, falling, stalking, and so on, here’s the actual cute stuff. 

Paul and Marko

These rat fucks are literally never not by your side. 

They bite you, randomly grab you, kiss you, just whenever they want, it doesn’t matter. 

Both boys steal things from you, all the time

Clothes, blankets, stuffed animals, books, your perfume/cologne/body spray, makeup if you wear it, whatever they can get their hands on, it’s with them.

You slowly start noticing them wearing your clothes, your perfume/cologne/body spray, and you ask about it. They always deny having it.

If you wear it, they put on your lipstick or lipgloss before they kiss you, because they think it's funny. 

Paul started trying to get you to smoke with him. 

Marko paints you like constantly, and anytime he catches you watching or looking at him, he has the most lovestruck and goofy look on his face.

Both fantasize about you 24/7 and just bounce stuff off of each other. 

They definitely bite you the most

65% of the bitemarks on you are from them, and 35% are from the other two boys.

Cuddle you the most.

Tease you the most

Teasing nips are greetings to them

Both have very little consistency in pet names for you, they just pick whatever.

Dwayne

The sweetest, and the biggest stalker ever.

Bro follows you around constantly. 

He doesn’t allow you to ride on the back of Paul and Marko's bikes, it's either him or David.

Holds your hands all the time

Gives you his jacket all the time.

You get cold? Take his jacket. Getting outta the ocean after Paul tossed you in? Take his jacket.

Smiles every time he sees you. 

Also takes your perfume/cologne/body spray, sprays himself down, and snuggles into clothes you wear he stole when he wanted to snuggle with you.

Acts totally normal around you but is a giggly schoolgirl when talking about you with the boys.

Brings you food and drinks daily, if he doesn’t know if you’ve eaten, you bet your ass he’s bringing you food.

About 15% of your bites are from him. 

Constantly makes sure you care for yourself.

Not into PDA but will hold your hands daily.

Bro has a mix of songs that reminds him of you.

Calls you stuff like Darling and Honey, he just gives those vibes.

David

OHHHH DEAR GOD-

David is worse than Dwayne, Marko, and Paul combined.

Stalks you, constantly, and he always makes sure you know he’s there.

Sassy, sarcastic, an asshole, we know this, but this carries over to you too.

Bro sasses you all the time.

Dude treats you like he treated Star, bro will just stare at you, if you don’t respond or do as he’s implying, he just calls your name again, and again, until he eventually just snaps in your face, not shouting, but literally snapping.

Nips at your ears, neck, and shoulders

Teases you, all the time, constantly for no reason. Like if you trip bro is laughing and he doesn’t even help your ass up. 

He does care though, he loves you so SO much.

The dude actually takes his damn gloves off to touch you sometimes! That NEVER happens!

Isn’t into PDA, at all, his hands stay securely in your back pockets or with his fingers through your belt loops, you are not leaving his side, if he isn’t around you bet your ass you’re sticking with Dwayne.

Will randomly give you things, Bro gave you one of his old tee shirts and he gets very pouty if you don’t wear it around.

He is not a sweet boy, but also a sweet guy, if you wear down his walls and wiggle your way into his heart, you will NEVER leave.

He’s terrified of being alone, if you leave for even a second, the man almost melts down. 

Calls you stuff like Babe, Baby, and Doll, doll is used no matter your gender, he won’t stop.

One more because our first one for Davie here also brings you food but fucks with you like he did with Micheal. He does keep extras if you actually freak out about it but after a certain point in your time with the boys, you start leaning into the goofiness. 

All four of them

Only a few here.

The boys are cuddlers, if they stay with you in your house, (You have blackout curtains) they are wrapped around you, Paul and Marko are damn well laying on top of you.

Will scream at any bastard on the boardwalk that even LOOKS at you wrong.

They fight anyone at all, for any reason, for everything, at all for you.

These nerds rant about everything they love, David will scream about how much he loves Billy Idol at any time, Marko talks about art all the damn time, Paul will just rant about how fucking much he loves guitarists like Mick Mars, Ace Frehley, and Eddie Van Halen, and Dwayne talks about books. All four always have stars in their eyes when talking, it's so cute. 

The rats started rubbing off on you, you’re crazy now, you ride bikes, and you yell, and scream with all of the boys.

When they do turn you, it amplifies by 20.

Your favorite activity is hanging off the bridge with the boys and biking. 

You eventually get your own, they were hesitant, but eh.

They love biking with you, and then you all either hang from the wood beams while sleeping or snuggle up in your bed and sleep peacefully. You wearing one of their jackets of course.

[aryxchse]

the same type of blue. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.

a / n : the history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself. and i won't shut up about how logan lerman and his wife being sally and poseidon in my head

warnings : emotional, i can't warm up to paul im sorry, sally and poseidon should've been an endgame but idek how, mentioning past, you looking like sally, crying, some of the hera cabin power mentions that i had in mind

the moment sally jackson met you, was the moment she saw her teenage self in your eyes.

you were this funny and bubbly girl who was too nice for your own good. you had these mother instict in you that later she found out it was because of your mother being hera. you would always say what type of marriage you imagine with percy and how many kids do you want. one boy and one girl, doesn't matter who's the older. the girl was going to have percy's eyes, but the boy will have yours.

and it always put a smile on her face to listen you talk about your dreams so comfortly to her. because she saw herself in those dreams. they were once her dreams too.

percy looked and acted too much like poseidon for sally's own good. he would unknowingly make his dad's jokes, and would call you 'darling' like he did to her back then. all these little details would remind sally her past love.

it was a barbeque day for the jackson-blofis family at the montauk cabin. where you were obviously invited, and poseidon, obviously was not. he liked to show up in family gatherings once in a while, to spend some time with his son or suprisingly, estelle.

you and sally prepared the table as the boys made the meat while laughing at something. paul and poseidon had this awkward friendship that always made you giggle. and percy would chat with his biological dad more often, since he felt more comfortable with him. don't get me wrong, he loved paul. all of you loved paul. but poseidon's warm energy made him easier to talk.

you never thought you'd have a dinner with a god but here you were, eating a meal with one of the most powerful gods ever existed. poseidon was really good at making people forget that he's a god, the one that rules the seven seas.

after the dinner, percy and you started to clean the area as paul went inside to watch this new game he followed, you didn't really paid attention. sally stayed outside, smelling the sea's calming scent, her bare feet dipping in the sand.

she looked over were poseidon and estelle was playing. he made sand castles with her as he laughed like a true grandpa. it made sally chuckle too, seeing him acting all fatherly with her daughter.

"he wants to make up for it," you said, and it made sally slightly jump. you apologised while putting a hand on her shoulder. "you know, since he couldn't look out for percy and you."

sally's eyes started to water up, but she managed to crack a smile. "how do you know this?" she asked. you shrugged, "i can feel a parent's feelings, even if they're a god. weird power, i know." you chuckled at the end with her.

"he didn't had any choice," sally muttered, looking at the sea again. you nodded. "i know, but he still feels bad. he really loves you sally, still like the first time." your whispering words made sally want to breakdown right then and there, but she only sighed.

"baby!" percy called behind you, smiling like a little kid. you both turned around as you made your way to percy, giggling. once again, it reminded sally the good times. but she wasn't alone this time, poseidon could also see the similarities between them. how you had sally's hair back then like how she used it, and how percy was a literal copy of himself.

sally sat next to poseidon as he sat there silently, watching his son and his girlfriend chase eachother around the beach, just like he and sally did. estelle was asleep in his arms, the calm energy he radiated making the girl fall asleep immediatly.

"they're just like us." poseidon whispered, not looking at the woman he still loved. sally smiled, not that he would see. "yeah. but a better version." she responded.

"one that ends happily unlike us." he agreed, too afraid to look in her eyes. sally didn't said anything, and the past lovers watched their son having the time of his life with the girl he loved.

suddenly percy lifted you up on his shoulders and ran into the water with you, still being clothed. you whined the moment you swimmed up. "percy it's not fair!" you yelled at him between your giggles.

"m' wet too baby, see? there's nothing unfair in this!" percy laughed with her, hugging her waist tightly so that she won't slip away.

"you used to do that too," sally whispered to poseidon, smile hurting her cheeks at this point. poseidon mimicked her facial expressions as he nodded quickly.

"and you would always whine like her." he chuckled, making the woman laugh along with him.

percy stepped out from the water with the help of the waves, still holding you in his arms in bridal style. while he made his way into the cabin, he spinned you around once in a while to make you laugh.

"he's really your son." sally chuckled, watching the couple enter the cabin.

"he's our son." poseidon corrected. he finally faced the woman, and saw the tears perking in her eyes through a smile. this was sally jackson, the woman he loved the most. smiling through everything.

he made the tears go away with a flick of his hand, too afraid to touch her. "a proof that our love was real, not a dream i had."

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[prettypinkporkchop]

Can I request a Paul x reader where Paul imprinted on reader but they just fucking hate him because reader and Paul where like each other's worst enemy's before he shifted and Paul has to convince reader that he's not the worst person on earth

B

R

U

H

YESSSSSS I GOTCHU

The Love side

Paul Lahote.

Your enemy.

All through school, he has hated you, and you've hated him. It's because he had beaten up your good friend. Not only that, but he was a player, and you HATE players. He tried to get in bed with you once at a party, but you slapped him.

"Oh, you've done it y/l/n. Watch yourself, little girl." He spits and shoves past you. "Fuck. You." You turn around. He stops, faces you, and then smiles. "I will make you regret that."

He sure did. Every day, he would make fun of you. He threatened to beat up your friend again just to make you mad. His exact words were, "I don't hit women. But I will make y/n cry."

One day, he stopped showing up. He was gone. It was the best feeling ever. You were free. When he came back, you were angry. You had a class together, and you ended up locking eyes.

That is when everything fell apart. Now, you have to be around him. He has to be around you. His mean attitude has slightly changed. But, you give him attitude which upsets him. You kind of love making him mad in hopes this stupid imprint thing goes away. Your dynamic annoys the pack. They wish you guys would just shut up and be a healthy relationship.

Here you guys are, in his truck.

"You are one stupid boy, Paul." You yell at him because you saw a girl he had fucked in high school. "Don't be childish. She means nothing." He growls and starts the truck. You step out and make your way down the rocky dirt road.

He jumps out too and grabs your elbow. "In the truck, now." He says sternly. You push him back, but he doesn't budge. "Don't call me childish when YOU are the man whore!"

"Why does it matter to you anyway?!" He yells and steps closer to you. His breathing is rough. "Because you imprinted on me, and I'm jealous. But I'm mad, and I know I mean nothing. You will hurt me, too." His breathing slows down. "I'll never hurt you. You need to understand that." He says quietly.

That night, you knock on Paul's bedroom door. He HAS to have you at his house during the night, or else he can't protect you due to territory issues with the vampires. Thankfully, you sleep on the couch.

He opens the door, and you stare at him with annoyance. "Ya know, the couch is very uncomfortable." You cross your arms. "Bro, I'm not in the mood. Just take the bed." He pushes past you. "I'm not sleeping in your nasty bed. I'm going home." You argue. You walk back to the living room to put your stuff in your bag. He grabs your arm with a firm grip, pulling you up to face him. "You're not going anywhere." He glares. "I. Hate. You." You hiss. Something in his eyes changed. "I don't like when you say that." His voice is still stern. You scoff and cross your arms. "Dude, like I care. You're a piece of shit. You're only keeping me around so that you don't have to deal with the physical pain of being away from me."

Something inside Paul had caught on fire. His heart is actually breaking. He can't take this anymore! He does love you.

"Can you at least stay with Emily? Kim?" He asks softly. "Okay." He sighs of relief, and you notice how genuine he seems.

'It's only because of the imprint.'

He drives you to Emily and Sam's.

You and Emily ended up staying up watching movies on the couch. You guys ended up having a deep 3 a.m girl talk.

"I'm just so mad about it being him!" You groan in your tired state. She yawns and nods her head. "I know, sweetie. Just tell me, would you ever change your mind about him?" She adjusts the blanket over her.

You take a big deep long breath, thinking.

"Mm, he'd have to really show me. He's hurt so many people. He played with girls' hearts. He was a fuck boy! Geez." You put your hand over your face. "Well, let the universe take part. Sit back and see what happens. Be nicer to him. It's not a forced bond. There's always been something there." She smiles.

You wake up to Emily cooking in the kitchen. You sit up and walk to the table, sitting down. "Oh! I hope I didn't wake you." She awkwardly bites her lip. "You did, but it's because of food, so I'm not complaining." You giggle.

You realize you look bad. Pajamas, hair's a mess, no makeup.

You go to their bathroom with your bag and fix yourself up.

You step out and see the pack sitting around. You see Paul looking down at his hands that are placed on the table.

Emily's advice plays in your head. Be nicer. You will be, but you won't give in until he shows he's a good guy. You refuse to get hurt.

You walk up to him and kneel down beside him. He looks down at you, confused. "You alright?" You ask kind of nicely? He looks surprised and smiles at you. "Uhm, I will be." He breathes out.

His brown eyes are stuck on yours. His mood has lifted a bit because you acknowledged him and somewhat showed you care. This is a good sign to him.

You stand up and see the boys side eyeing you and eating. "Y/n, I left something on my couch for you. You actually left it." He looks up at you.

What could you have left?

"Thanks." You say dryly. Paul stands up and pushes the chair in. "I'll drive you." He offers. Kim notices your face. She stands up and puts a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take you, y/n. I'll drop you off at home after you pick it up."

You look at her and nod your head, "thank you." You smile.

Being somewhat nice to Paul is hard.

You open the door to Paul's house and walk over to his couch. There's a brown paper bag with handles. You open it up.

Inside is a tiny black box. You open it, and there's a necklace. It's a beautiful necklace that you have been looking at for a while. It's expensive as shit! "No. Fucking. Way." You mumble. Under the necklace is a note. You pick up the necklace, placing it down on your lap, and open the piece of paper.

'I swear, when I think of you, the mountains before me move. Believe me when I say this: I love you.'

You forget how to breathe. Your hands become shaky. You put the note down and open the bag again. A fluffy blanket that's swirled and tied with ribbon into a bow. In the ribbon is another note.

'For when my blanket is too gross for you to sleep in. I promise I do clean them.'

You giggle a little bit. You dig inside again, and there's a bracelet. He definitely made it.

You put on the necklace and bracelet. You put the blanket back in the bag and walk back to Kim's car. "What was it?" She asks. "A blanket!" You giggle.

You're settling in at home. You did laundry, some work on your laptop, and made yourself food.

You sit on your bed, scrolling through tiktok. Your phone dings.

Paul: how are you feeling?

Y/n: good. Thank you for the gifts.

Paul: you're welcome, beautiful. I have a question.

Y/n: what

Paul: date?

You groan in annoyance. Your mind plays out every mean thing he said to you before phasing. All of the girls he had hurt. The innocent dudes he fought because they breathed wrong.

But, his beautiful eyes. His sexy face. His body. His hands. His smile. His laugh. His electrifying touch.

Y/n: it's going to take a lot of convincing to get me to be yours.

Paul: I know. I'll wait forever.

Y/n: did you make the bracelet?

Paul: yes ma'am. I'm sorry if you don't like it. I can redo it for you.

What a suck up!!!

Y/n: it's perfect.

A couple of days later, the pack is at Jacob's house. They're helping him fix up a motorcycle. You, Emily, and Kim join in.

You girls sit on lawn chairs near the garage. Emily looks at your wrist and smirks. "Things going well?" She asks. You lean back in the chair and sigh. "I mean, I'm being nice.... enough. He's showering me in gifts. He's trying to take me on a date." You roll your eyes. "What's so bad about that? He's showing you he wants you and only you." Kim says. You know this deep down. But, it doesn't change who he was... is. You don't know anymore.

Paul, Jared, and Sam make their way to you girls. Paul smiles at you and gently grabs your hand. You leave it like that for two seconds but wiggle your hand out of his grip. He doesn't say anything.

"I want to show you something, if you'll let me." He looks at you with almost a pleading face. You get curious and look around his face for any sign of something bad.

It's just sweetness. You can feel the passion radiating off of him. "Okay, Paul." You actually say his name without anger.

This makes his heart jump. His stomach does a flip. He just wants to take you by the hand and kiss you.

You lock your fingers with his and stand up.

He leads you into the woods. "There's a specific spot. You okay?" He turns to face you. You guys have been walking for a hot while. "I'm fine." You lie. Your feet are killing you. He squints at you and then walks to you. He lifts your bridal style. "What the hell?" You squirm. "I can tell your feet are hurting. Let me help you."

Finally, you guys get to this stream of water. There are rocks planted perfectly like a path. The sound of the water is soothing. There is a tree that has fallen, which is where he places you down.

"I was patrolling and found this. It made me think of you." He sits next to you. You look over at him as he watches the stream.

"Ya know, I never meant to hurt those girls in school. I was punishing myself." He sighs. You turn your body to his. You're shocked he's opening up.

"I never hated you. I was trying to stop myself and you from ever falling. But I've always liked you. I was just young, dumb, oblivious." He looks at you. "I'd do anything for you. I hope you believe me. I'm sorry for how I was. I will forever live with that guilt, and I deserve it. I deserve no pity. But, I am so sorry." He shakes his head and his eyes get watery.

You fall.

You fell.

You love him.

"Oh, Paul." You grab his face and kiss him. He's taken aback but kisses you back. His hand wraps around your wrist gently.

Later that night, you are at his house. You are sleeping on the couch again. You are staring at the ceiling and can't stop thinking about him. His lips taste so good. His touch is like fire.

You get up and open his door slowly. His room is dark, and you can hear very quiet snoring. You make your way to his bed. You crawl under the blanket next to him. He slightly groans and shifts. He turns around, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling your back into him. Your butt is against him. You lift your head and turn it. You can't see his face, but you feel his lips on yours. The kiss is rough, and his hands slide down to your hip, near your ass. He pulls away and nuzzles his face in your neck. "Not yet."

You wake up, wrapped up in his arms and content. "I love you." You mumble to Paul. "I love you too, my girl." He kisses your cheek.

[vscabarca]

polish love - pablo gavi

summary: gavi and you have been seeing each other for a while, but only now does he realize your not Spanish but Polish!

genre: fluff

a/n: for a dear Polish friend of mine!💗 Hope you like it🌟😘

———

„Mamo, nie teraz! Jestem teraz zajęty…“ („Mom not now! I‘m busy…”) You said quite a bit embarrassed, sitting alone in a coffee shop waiting for Gavi.

The footballer and you had been seeing each other for the past few weeks, going on cute little dates every now and then.

At first, you met Gavi through mutual friends, hanging out in groups at each other’s homes. Over time you felt closer to the number six, sharing glances and little inside jokes while your other friends did not seem to notice how you two grew closer.

Now, on a gloomy Wednesday afternoon, you sat in a quiet corner of a local cafe, waiting for the footballer to arrive.

„Ah! Jesteś na randce z uroczym Hiszpanem! Jak on ma na imię? Paul? -“ („Ah! You’re on a date with that cute Spanish guy! What’s his name again? Paul? -“) Your cheeks grew bright red, your eyes widened when you heard your Mom‘s words. You loved her endlessly but she could be shameless when it came to a boy.

„Ma na imię Pablo. Ale o co właściwie chciałeś mnie zapytać?“ („His name is Pablo. But what did you want to ask me again?“)

You tried to switch the topic, feeling a bit too embarrassed to talk about boys with your mom.

„Potrzebuję dowodu tożsamości, aby zarejestrować się w firmie ubezpieczeniowej.“ („I need your identity card to register you with the insurance company.“)

You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing slightly at the random question. After fumbling around in your bag you found the card, ready to send it to her.

What you didn’t realize, Gavi just walked inside, immediately smiling once he saw you sit there.

Though his smile quickly changed into confusion as he heard you talk (for him) gibberish.

„Wyślę ci zdjęcie.“ („I‘ll send you a picture.“) You felt someone walk up beside you, and when you realized it was the footballer you had a crush on, you gave him a soft smile.

„Porozmawiamy później.“ („I‘ll talk to you later.“) Rushed, you hung up, greeting Gavi with a wide smile. He gave you a warm hug, pecking your checks twice. You felt your face heat up and tried to play it off by putting your phone away.

„What was that?“ He grinned, curious about what you were saying just moments ago.

„Oh I was on a call with my mom.“

Baffled he looked at you, making you feel a bit confused.

„Wait so you’re not Spanish?!“ Gavi asked astonished as you shook your head with a grin.

„No actually. My parents are from Poland but we moved here when I was little.“ You explained. You never actually told him, it just never came to that topic so you understood why he was surprised.

„I didn’t know that! That‘s cool though.“

That’s how you immersed in stories of your childhood from Poland, telling him how beautiful and versatile the country was which you moved away from at the age of eight.

„And at home you still only speak Polish?“ It was cute how much Gavi was interested in your origins, it made your stomach flutter when you just thought about it.

„I try to encourage my parents to speak Spanish with me because they always complain theirs isn’t as good as my Spanish, but they answer me in Polish. It‘s bit of a mix.“ You giggled, remembering the cocktail of different languages spoken at home.

„Teach me something.“ He spoke softly, the afternoon sun shining perfectly onto his face, making it hard for you to stay concentrated and not get lost in his eyes.

„Hmm, what do you want me to say?“ You asked, leaning your chin onto the palm of your hand, tilting your head a bit, giving him a small smile.

„How about… I like spending time with you?“ You laughed at his attempt to flirt, his and your laughter resonated through the small cafe, making curious heads turn around.

The vibe between you two became a bit more flirtatious over the last couple of meetings, but both of you were so awkward sometimes that a laugh slipped through once or twice. But, this just made the situation a lot more wholesome, right?

„Lubię spędzać z tobą czas.“ („I like spending time with you.“)

More laughter resonated through the cafe when Gavi looked at you with wide eyes, but tried nevertheless. It took him quite some time to get the pronounciation right, but with laughter and giggles he made it work.

„It sounds so cool, are you kidding me.“ He patted his shoulder proudly as if it didn’t take him at least ten minutes to learn.

„Okay hear me out. I‘m serious, lubię spędzać z tobą czas.“ (I like spending time with you.“) Gavi said more serious, his eyes glistening with affection.

Your cheeks heat up for the nth time this afternoon, but you didn’t hide it this time.

„ja też.“ („Me too.“) You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ears.

Gavi and you decided to slowly head back home as both of you had a tight schedule the next day.

„I go to the bathroom real quick.“ He announced once you two stood up and gave your temple a quick kiss before disappearing in the bathroom. You bit your lip, not believing any of this was real. You hoped in the end everything would work out as you really started to like the midfielder.

The sun was already setting outside once Gavi came back. You two started walking in comfortable silence, enjoying the mild breeze coming from the sea.

It already happened once or twice, your finger brushing against Gavi‘s, your eyes shyly meeting when it happened. The third time it happened, Gavi finally decided to interlock his fingers with yours, giving you a quick glance to see if you were okay with it.

With fingers intertwined, he walked you back home while exchanged quick little anecdotes and already planning the next date.

„That was a really nice cafe you chose for today. I loved it.“ You said once you stood opposite him in front of your porch.

„You choose the next place, okay?“

It felt like time slowed down, Gavi standing there with his hand in yours looking into your eyes while you felt your heart beating in your chest .

Gavi came closer, his hand moving some hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear and cupped your cheek.

„Czy mogę cię pocałować?“ („Can I kiss you?“) He spoke not above a whisper, eyes moving from your yours to your lips.

Without answering you grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him in for a tender kiss.

Everything in that moment was perfect, the sunset, the kiss and Gavi.

You two broke apart with a smile, him still holding your waist.

„How did you learn Polish so fast?“ You laughed, hiding your face in his shoulder.

„I may or may not have gone to the bathroom to learn this sentence by heart?“ He said with a smile, making you laugh even more.

„How do you say I really like you and want to kiss you again?“ Gavi asked, still having both of his arms around your body, his thumb gently stroking your skin.

„Kiss me first, then I‘ll tell you.“ You grinned slyly, already feeling his lips on yours again.

[nastyaromatherapy]

Footlong (18+)

Ethan, a boy you bullied in highschool, sees you at a frat party and is hungry for revenge.

saw (this fic) and was like damn, i need an extended version of this.

pairing - dom!ethan landry x bully!reader

one shot length, 1.9k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, creampie, mentions of sh, degradation, tara reader and quinn are all bitches, big dick ethan

“Ethan? Please. I bet he’s never even held hands with a girl.” You quipped to Tara when his name aroused in a game of Fuck Marry Kill. Quinn quickly disagreed, “I bet- No, I know he’s packing. Haven’t you seen the outline in his khakis?” You internally bleh-ed at her wandering eyes. “Quinn, you fucking horndog,” you joked, leaning back in your chair and contemplating the original question: Fuck Mary Kill, Chad, Ethan, Frankie. “Fuck Chad, Marry Ethan, Kill that motherfucker Frankie.”

“Swap Ethan and Chad, then agreed,” Quinn said. Suddenly Ethan walked in in the khakis Quinn was talking about earlier, finding his seat in the back of the class. “Speak of the devil,” Tara tsked. “Yo, Ethan,” you called out. His eyes flickered up to meet yours before quickly dropping back down. “C’mon, why the long face? I heard only fans should be back up tonight, and I’m sure the ladies miss you as much you miss them,” you fake pouted. He just rolled his eyes and focused on copying down notes he borrowed from some friends.

“Ethan!” Tara called out to him, only this time he didn’t look up. “Don’t mind y/n, she’s just nervous. She wants to invite you to her party tonight, wants to see this ‘big dick’ everyone’s gassing.” You smirked and found Tara’s comment as a perfect opening. “Yeah, Ethan, that true? That you hide a footlong in your khakis?” You asked him condescendingly, a flush already flooding his cheeks. “Oh, Ethan,” Quinn gasped, grabbing on the sides of her desk to rock it. “It’s too big, I can’t take it,” she moaned artificially.

Ethan slouched in his seat, wanting to be as far as possible from here.

He was though, he slouched in his seat on the couch at the frat party, beer can in hand. He saw you dancing with some of your friends who he’s never seen before, having not seen you since Highschool. Oh would vengeance be sweet.

He waited until you walked into the kitchen for a drink so that he could approach you without distractions. “Y/n l/n,” he said with false surprise, making you turn around with a gasp. He grew taller, his hair was more put together, he was just hotter. “What a surprise,” he smirked. “Footlong!” You smiled, the name stemming from the joke from 12th grade. “Ethan- sorry. Old habits die hard,” you said. “It’s all good just, surprised to see you here,” he spoke.

“You’re taller!” You said awkwardly, gesturing your hands towards his figure. “Yeah, I guess canceling all those only fan subscriptions helped me grow,” he joked self deprecatingly, sadly smiling. You sighed, hating apologizes. “Oh, yeah sorry about all that. It was just a joke,” you said in the most tone deaf way possible. “Hey I mean, at least those were all rumors. It’s not like it came out that I had a threesome with Paul Keene and his cousin and it turned out to be very true.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your lips twisted into a snaky expression.

“Yo what the fuck is your problem?” You asked him as your temper rose. “Just taking a trip down memory lane,” he smirked before taking a sip of his beer, then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You looked at him with utter disgust for his remarks about the past. “Okay, my bad. You have gotten sexier though,” he said, empty hand reaching for your side.

You inched closer, giving into his touch. “Oh yeah?” You asked as you let his feel up your side. “Yeah,” he confirmed before finally landing a grip on your waist, pulling you in close. “You wanna dance?”

You led him to the dance floor to engage in some tipsy dancing. He wasn’t the best, was a little stiff, but you were there to help him out. You grinded on him as his hands rested at your hips. Ethan groaned as he felt his erection slowly growing as your ass rubbed against him.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing you by your wrist, and you complied to follow him up the stairs. He slammed you against the paneled wall and kissed you hungrily, groaning into your mouth. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a littler turned on by this, your stomach churning.

You slowly slipped your tongue into his mouth, moaning into the kiss as his hands reached to fumble with your tits.

“Fuck,” he said after pulling away, wiping the extra slobber on his face with his palm. He grabbed you by your hand this time, leading you into an empty bedroom, being quick to lock the door.

“So, Footlong,” you started while walking into the room. “We gonna test if the rumors true? And I’m gonna guess you’re a virgin. Sex isn’t the same as porn, and girls aren’t like those cam girls I know you like to watch. Just to let you know.” He grimaced at your words, seeing that you obviously haven’t changed at all.

“Sad to see you haven’t changed,” he said. “Still a bitch,” he said with a smirk. “A sexy bitch,” you said. “According to your words.” Ethan was quick to correct you, “I said you were sexier, not sexy.” Your expression quickly faltered. “God I can’t believe I kissed you. You probably have herpes,” he said while wiping a hand down his face. “I-I don’t-”

“You know I used to burn myself? Almost everyday after school?” He asked, completely shifting the mood. Your face filled with shock, up until now unaware. “Ethan- I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me-” “Cause it was none of your fucking business!” He yelled, making you inch back a bit. “Just like it was none of your fucking business saying those things to me, knowing what I already had going on in my life.” He said, referring to the death of Richie and his father’s coping mechanisms.

“But I know why you’re here, y/n. It’s not because you like me, it’s not because you want to make up, it’s because you’re a fucking loud mouthed whore.” You opened your mouth to deny it, but you just couldn’t.

As he stood he started to unbuckle his pants, letting them drop to his knees. Your eyes grew wide at the visible bulge in his boxers, maybe not 12 inches, but still huge. “What? You need a step by step tutorial?” He asked, eyeing your blank expression. His words made you quickly snap out of it and get down so your knees touched the cold wood.

You tugged his boxers down, allowing his dick to spring out. He shallowly hissed at the cold air. Your mouth watered at the sight, he was perfect. You eagerly took the tip of him, feeling the rumbles of his groans. “That’s it, shut up and take it,” he grunted, slowly thrusting himself deeper into your throat. You rested your hands on his inner thighs and moaned on his length, finding yourself extremely turned on.

“Is this gonna be our secret? Are you gonna be too embarrassed to admit to your friends that you got face fucked by Ethan Landry?” He asked, his thrusts growing more aggressive. Your eyebrows contorted upwards, and with every thrust your mouth made a wet clicking sound.

You continued moaning around him from the pleasure of being used, eyes now glossy and red. Ethan slipped his hand down and pulled his cock out of your mouth, making you sigh from disappointment. “Stick out your tongue,” he softly demanded, and you quickly complied. “That’s a good whore,” he groaned as he jerked himself off over your tongue. You found yourself reaching your tongue up, just for a little taste. “Does the slut want my cum?” He asked, growing close, face completely red. “Yes,” you moaned. “Beg for it.”

You pouted, hungry for his cum. “Please cum for me, Ethan. I want your cum s’bad!” You whimpered out. Ethan threw his head back as he shot his cum directly in your mouth, a little making its way onto your lips. You licked it off your lips sluttily before swallowing all of it. Ethan tilted his head slightly, “Not even a thank you?” He asked, annoyed. “Thank you,” you corrected.

He looked down at you on the floor, eyeing you still in the dress. “Turn around.” After you turned to face away from him, he unzipped your dress to help you take it off, taking his shirt off as well. He hooked your black thong in his fingers and moved them to the side, eyeing your glistening pussy. He spit on it before giving your ass a slap, making you yelp and bounce forward.

“Face down,” he ordered, making you lay your face down on the cool floor. He took his cock and rubbed it up and down your pussy, leading you to whimper. “Please fuck me, Ethan,” you moaned. He slapped your ass again, “Yeah, you want my cock, slut?” You nodded furiously. “Please, need your cock in me,” you whined, pushing your ass back in an attempt to gain more friction.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he slid into you, grabbing a hold of your waist. “Ethan!” You moaned out. Never in a million years would you ever think that Ethan fucking Landry would be stretching you out. “That’s it, take my cock,” he groaned, ego boosting from how much you enjoyed it, from how you whimpered on his dick and clenched around him.

“So big,” you whispered, which he picked up on. “Yeah? You love my big dick stretching you out?” You nodded in response. “Yes, fuck I love your cock, Ethan!”

He got so much pleasure out of watching you submit for him, the girl who tormented him for years just from her words, going dumb on his cock. “Mm, slap my ass again please, it felt s’good,” you slurred out. He smiled and was quick to comply, leaving a red mark on your cheek. “Slut love when I smack her ass?” He asked smugly. “Mhm,” you whimpered.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you struggled to find anything to grab onto, reaching for your discarded dress to scrunch in your hands. “Not gonna say anything bitchy?” He asked, thrusts growing deeper. “Where’d your confidence go? Fuck you’re pathetic,” he smirked. “Pathetic slut who likes getting her pussy ripped apart by absolutely anyone.” You moaned at his words, growing close as tears formed in your eyes.

“So close, Ethan,” you whined, your stomach twisting in the most pleasurable way. “Oh yeah? Beg for it,” he grunted, slamming into you harder. “Fuck- please let me cum Ethan, your cock feels s’good,” you begged, cunt squeezing his length so tight. “That’s a good fucking whore, cum on my cock,” he groaned. You released all over him, squirting for the first time.

The liquid spurted onto his thighs and the floor, making you feel somewhat humiliated. He continued to fuck you, having not came yet. You screamed from the overstimulation, moaning uncontrollably. “Fuck, oh fuck. Ethann,” you whined as he chased his own high.

“Fuck!” He groaned with one final slam, filling your cunt with his thick cum. He was quick to pull out and watch his cum slowly drip out of your pussy. “Come taste yourself,” he said. You shifted around and bent over to suck his dick, covered in a mix of yours and his cum. He cursed under his breath as you overstimulated his cock, grabbing your head and pushing you down on his length, throwing his head back, groaning as you deepthroated him. Then he lifted your head up to see your fucked out face, wet with sweat. “Be useful and open your legs.”

[angelisgonnastartchangingurls]

nina pt. 2

Nina walked back to her mom's trailer and found her mother, father, and brother Paul. Paul was unloading the last of the supplies their dad had brought, and moments later he was saying goodbye. They'd see him at the end of the week.

Nina didn't officially have any work to do that day, so she hung around the cabin and read and then sat by the water for a few hours, mostly napping. That night she had dinner with her mom, Paul, Cassie, and Evan.

It was hot in the cabin that night. It always was, but it took some getting used to. she slept fitfully, sweating through her shorts and tanktop.

In the morning, she woke up and looked across the room. Cassie, she was surprised to see, had slept on top of her covers in just a pair of panties. Her breasts were fully exposed, and Paul was already awake and talking to her, sitting on his bed. Nina tried, as usual, to stifle her surprise.

"You guys want to go get stoned down by the river?" Cassie offered. Nina was still stifling her initial surprise about the toplessness, but then had to again as Nina casually slipped off her underwear and began to put on her bikini in front of Paul. So we just get naked in here now? Nina thought to herself. They'd used to change in the tiny bathroom, or the outdoor shower enclosure. That was clearly a thing of the past, and as if to confirm that, Paul was now pulling off his boxers and rifling through his suitcase for a bathing suit. Nina caught a glimpse of his cock, but mostly just saw his pale ass. She took her own bathing suit into the bathroom to change.

That evening, in the pitch dark, Nina awoke to giggling sounds across the room. In the morning, she assumed she'd dreamt it.

One sure sign of Nina's new level of trust and autonomy as a 16 year old, she discovered, was that her mother smoked openly in front of her now. She'd typically be out in front of the trailer early every morning, smoking and making coffee in a sports bra and jean shorts. Nina sometimes came by and they'd chat, before Uncle Evan was even out of bed. One such morning, Evan stumbled out, and didn't seem to see Nina there, and thus unceremoniously pulled out his dick in full view of Nina's mother and pissed in the woods. Nina looked at her mom, looking at Evan, and giggled. "Oh good morning," he said, putting his cock in his boxers as he regarded Nina. "Sorry about that." "It's fine," she said. "I've seen dicks."

"How many?" her mom asked, incredulous.

Nina just laughed.

That evening, something woke Nina again. She ignored it.

The next morning, she was outside using the outdoor shower. It was something Evan had rigged up years ago -- it was connected to a transparent tank on the back roof of the cabin. Sunlight heated the water that automatically refilled from a hose on the other end. Even first thing in the morning, the water was pretty hot. There was virtually no water pressure, which didn't do Nina's hair any favors, so she just never washed it, all summer long.

Anyway, she was washing her body under the hot trickle of water when the stained-glass bathroom door opened and Paul poked his head out. "There are some college kids on campsite 40," he said. "Cassie and I are gonna make friends. You in?"

"A little privacy?" Nina said, covering her breasts. Paul laughed. "Oh relax," he said. "Don't forget to shave your pussy." He closed the window.

Paul and Cassie's plan for befriending the college kids was simple: they walked over and offered them weed. Naturally, this worked, and Nina, Cassie, and Paul spent the day at their campsite, taking little trips to the river and on hikes in different small groups.

Most of them seemed to be couples. Nina enjoyed watching them interact. But there was at least one unattached girl and one unattached boy, who seemed interested in Paul and Cassie, respectively. Nina wasn't bothered by this. She was 16. She'd expected to be the wingman. And in the afternoon, when she and Paul went for a walk with Kate, the unattached girl, who was 20 years old, Nina found herself naturally talking up Paul, what a good brother he was, whatever. It was easy. They took Kate to this great overlook they'd found when they were preteens, and Nina looked out at the landscape while Paul and Kate made out.

When Kate told Nina to walk down to the path to be a lookout, she did so willingly. She stood about 15 yards away, behind a tree. When she first peeked out, Kate was topless, sitting in Paul's lap. When she looked back again a few moments later, Kate had Paul's erect penis in her hand, stroking it as she spoke to him. Nina couldn't hear what she was saying. She watched the way her hand traveled up and down his shaft. Nina was too far away to determine if Paul was impressive in size. And then Kate was on top of him, her skirt still on, but it was clear what was happening under there. Nina found herself thinking that Kate was being too active -- bouncing on Paul at hyper speed. Can that really feel like anything? She wondered. With Joe, she'd spent some time on top of him, moving slowly, and she could tell from Joe's face that it felt just as good for him as it did for her.

And then the girl was pulling off, and Nina looked away, and moments later she and Paul were fully dressed and heading back down the path, right past Nina. She followed sheepishly.

"You guys FUCKED?" Cassie was mock-scandalized. They were back at their own cabin. It was late. They were all drunk and stoned. "She was so tight," Paul said.

"I'm jealous," Cassie said. "I gave Tommy a sloppy blowjob but was like, so drunk he was barely hard."

"Skill issue," Paul said. "I can get hard no matter how drunk I am."

"Prove it," Cassie said.

Paul laughed.

"Seriously, do it," she said.

"In front of Nina?"

"Didn't you tell me to relax when you saw me naked this morning?" Nina said playfully. "I'm relaxed."

So then Paul was defiantly standing up, pulling down his shorts, and starting to pull on his flaccid cock. Nina and Cassie watched intently.

He was rock hard pretty much immediately.

Nina was close enough now to be impressed. But she remained wryly skeptical on her face.

"I could cum right now and be hard again in five minutes," he said.

"I think you know we're going to ask you to prove that," Cassie said.

"I don't know," he said. "I feel pretty exposed and alone here."

Cassie took off her shirt. She looked at Nina. Nina shrugged,and did the same thing. She still had a bra on, but she took it off.

Paul grunted, and then began to rapidly stroke his cock. 30 seconds later, he was shooting his cum on the floor of the cabin. Nina looked at it sitting there. A little white, mostly translucent.

On her phone, Cassie set a timer for five minutes. Paul laid back on his bed, cock still out.

"What should we do while we wait?" Cassie said.

"You should jerk off," Paul said.

"I think it would take me longer than ten minutes to cum," Cassie said.

"Not me," Nina offered. "I can cum in like, 2 minutes."

Nina was a very active masturbator. At home, with a room of her own, she did it three times a day. In the morning, after school, and before bed. At camp she only ever did it in the shower. Paul had nearly caught her that morning. "Prooooove itttt," Cassie dared. Nina reached into her shorts and started to touch herself. "Oh wow," Cassie said. Paul looked over at Nina touching herself and smiled. Nina closed her eyes and had a quick, efficient clitoral orgasm. She sighed, and licked her fingers. Cassie applauded. Paul turned to show them that he was hard again.

"OK," Cassie said. "You win. The guy from Site 40 was a loser. You should just fuck me instead."

Paul cackled. They went to bed.

The next day, they were back with the kids at Site 40. They smoked weed and drank wine all day, so much so that Nina passed out for a while, and woke in one of the couples' tents. She didn't remember being moved there, and when she stumbled to her feet, the girl, the blondest and most hippie-ish girl, gave her a bottle of water. It was getting dark, and she told Nina she'd come back to get her because they were having a fire down by the river.

When Nina arrived, the first thing she clocked was Paul and the girl from yesterday making out heavily on a towel. Cassie was similarly ensconced in the arms of her unimpressive man, and the two of them were watching one of the other couples, a lanky boy and a cute, short brunette girl, splash water at each other, standing naked in the river. "It's so cold," the girl was saying. She had almost a full bush. Nina thought it looked sophisticated.

The girl who'd woken Nina in the tent, her name was Ellie, at least Nina was pretty sure, Ellie was bringing her over to her boyfriend, Josh, and Josh gave Nina a beer. She sat with them as it got dark and chatted. Ellie was very curious about Nina, asking lots of questions. At one point, Nina was so absorbed in the conversation that she nearly missed that Paul and the girl were fucking on the beach in front of everyone. Cassie was watching intently.

Nina looked at Ellie and rolled her eyes. "That's my brother," she said. Ellie giggled. "That's my sister on top of him."

Nina felt like an idiot as she looked back and forth between the girls and realized they were twins. Ellie had longer hair and was more tan, but those were the major differences.

"Is that weird for YOU?" Nina asked Josh.

Josh laughed. "They have different bushes. Makes it easier."

The girl on top of Sean had a trimmed, shaped triangle.

Nina somewhat involuntarily looked quizzically at Ellie, who yanked down the front of her bikini to reveal a tight landing strip.

"Show us yours" Ellie said.

Nina pulled her bikini aside, which she felt was a sluttier gesture, to show them her pale shaved cunt. Josh whistled in appreciation.

"Can I touch it?" Ellie asked, already reaching.

Nina allowed it. Ellie's touch was tender and precise -- immediately touching Nina's clit. Nina gave a little yelp of pleasure.

Ellie was pushing apart the corner of Nina's labia, looking admiringly at her. "If we go back to your cabin with you," She offered. "Can we fuck you?"

Nina nodded.

Her legs shook on the walk back. Her second time having sex was going to be a threesome?

Once inside, Ellie and Josh quickly got naked. Josh's cock was very red and kind of thin but not unpretty. They moved Nina's bed and got on either side of it, laying her down on it and getting her out of her bikini. "I really want to taste you," Ellie said.

She put her mouth between Nina's legs, and Nina bit her lip to keep herself from moaning too loud. She'd never had oral sex before, and Ellie felt practiced in the art. She convulsed on the bed. Josh had his hands on Nina's face, and soon had his thumb in her mouth. She sucked at it eagerly, desperate to please. She watched his hard red cock twitch, out of focus in her field of vision because his arm was kind of in the way. She looked over at Ellie now, looking up from her cunt in a satisfied way. "Go get a condom babe," she told Josh. "This little whore is good to go."

Being called a whore stung Nina a little. She tried to get over it as Josh got on his knees between her legs. Ellie pulled Nina's legs open more. It felt less like a threesome and more like Ellie capturing and bringing a reward home for this creature in her care. Josh pushed his cock into Nina's pussy, and Nina gasped as her body accepted him.

"You like getting fucked?" Ellie asked her, pulling on her hair.

"Y-yes?" Nina said.

"Good girl," Ellie said. "You're so fucking pretty."

Ellie was touching herself, pretty frantically, and was almost holding on to Nina's head for balance or something. Ellie closed her eyes and kept them closed for a while, not watching as her boyfriend thrusted away between Nina's legs.

Nina tried to lock in and pay attention to Josh, tried to feel his cock, but she was drunk and distracted by Ellie, who was now moaning emphatically as she either had an orgasm or was working desperately to finish one. Josh pulled out, pulled the condom off, and sprayed his cum on Nina's pussy and stomach without asking. Ellie yelped a few more yelps, bouncing up and down on her knees, and then stopped. They both grinned at Nina on the bed and got up immediately.

They dressed quickly, said "thanks" to Nina, and left. Nina laid there on the bed, which had been moved to the middle of the room, with cum on her stomach and a condom stuck to her thigh, naked and cold.

Cassie came in seconds later. "Losers," she said. She looked at Nina, still stunned and sprayed and splayed on the bed. "Hit and run?" she asked.

"Yes?" Nina said.

"Losers," Cassie said.

She was stripping, unceremoniously as usual, and put on a sweatshirt, nothing else, and plopped down into Paul's bed.

"Will you turn off the lights when you clean up?" Cassie asked.

"Sure," Nina said.

[hoonigiris]

— things we never said

s. jaeyun x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k genre: angst (i think) content: exes!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, aespa's ningning and winter cameos for naming purposes only. normal people inspired. misc. notes: thank you to the jake fuckers (@gluion @mosviqu) for being my motivation to 1) write this drabble and more importantly 2) Finish this drabble. kept you in my thoughts when i wrote this xoxo. also a specific thank you to @sungbeam for being the first person to read it in full. and lastly, a special thank you to paul mescal for being just the perfect amount of pathetic i needed in bbc's miniseries normal people.

synopsis: in which it's heeseung's wedding, jake's had too much to drink, and really, he just misses you. perhaps what happens after are the things he should never say.

jake’s shoes squeeze too tight around his toes.

realistically, through the haze of the alcohol, he knows he should be worried about other things. maybe any other thing, like how he needs to figure out how to get this champagne stain out of his shirt before his company dinner on friday, or how the bass of the dj's last set is still ringing in his ears, or how he's pretty sure this little escapade would probably qualify as date-ditching, considering the way yizhuo has been texting him 'where r u??' for the past twenty minutes.

jake's head buzzes, the aftertaste of his last beer resting firm on his tongue. in retrospect, perhaps the fourth glass he filled right before they cut the cake was one too many, but it’s too late to regret it now. the glass is sitting empty on the table, and instead of being out on the dance floor with the rest of his friends, jake is here—under the gazebo, heart in throat, phone in hand. his thumb hovers over the contact, still saved, and stares for a long time.

he shouldn’t. he knows he shouldn’t.

(not that it really matters. knowing better and doing better are two things jake has never been very good at keeping the same.)

he hits call.

the dial rings and rings and rings. jake can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, he just keeps listening to the endless tinny trilling. and then— 

“hello?”

“hi.” his voice catches. “it’s me.”

you pause, the silence crackling over the speaker. “what’s up?”

jake’s throat goes tight, tongue heavy as he tries to fumble his way around his words. your voice is just like he remembers, intimately close even from the speaker. he wonders what he can say, to make up for the months of not speaking to each other. how are you? how’s work? do you still set 5 alarms in the morning before you have to wake up so you can enjoy the feeling of going back to sleep?

“it’s heeseung’s wedding today,” he says eventually. you didn’t show up.

there’s a beat of silence, before:

“i know,” you reply gently, the silent accusation he doesn’t mean to throw landing softly between the two of you. “i already called him this morning to say congratulations. there’s a wedding gift that should be shipped soon, actually,” you continue, as if it makes your absence any better. “i think he’ll like it, you know. he’s been talking about getting that coffee grinder on his wedding registry before that registry even existed—”

“y/n.”

the line goes completely quiet, like you’re bracing yourself for what he could say next. normally he would leave it be, set down the phone and apologize and go back to the venue to celebrate with the rest of his friends. but right now, jake is drunk, and his head hurts, and all the sounds ring around him and merge together into a single sound, pressed tight against his ear. his chest feels rubbed raw, the burning question flickering and coming out all in a rush. “did you not come because of me?”

“jake,” you chide, almost immediately. he missed the way you say his name, even like this. “you know that’s not it.”

he laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck, feeling scolded. just like old times. “isn’t it?”

there’s a disapproving noise on the other end, like you take offense in him even having doubts. “you know i wish i could have been there.”

jake hesitates, just a little. it’s a stupid thought, and it would be even stupider to say, but he supposes he should keep the streak going, since he’s already started tonight. “you could still come.” 

you let out a small laugh, entertaining the thought. “yeah?”

jake nods, as if you can hear it. maybe you can. maybe you didn’t have to, to know. “yeah, the night is still young. i’m sure everyone would be happy to see you again—you could come right now, if you really wanted to.”

“and do what, exactly?” you tease.

he shrugs, smiling. “give a belated toast? we all gave one, you know.”

“oh, and heeseung agreed to that?”

“as if he could stop us,” jake counters. “we had to make sure the bride knew what she was marrying! one embarrassing story from each of us!”

“and pray tell,” you say, bemused, “what story did you share with the audience? no wait—let me guess.” you hum, as if tapping your chin for the exaggerated effect. “the time he tried to flirt with that senior in the library and fell on his ass because he missed the chair? or the time when—oh! what about when he got drunk and wanted to get matching tattoos with everyone and then started crying the second it started cause it hurt so bad?”

“no, actually,” jake laughs. “sunghoon and jay already took those. mine was about when he accidentally hit on riki’s mom the entire night and found out the morning after.”

“you better have turned those stories into anecdotes about how happy their marriage is going to be,” you warn wryly.

jake waves you off. “sunoo and jungwon got the sentimental part. we were in charge of making sure minjeong knew what she was getting herself into.”

you sigh exasperatedly, something rustling on your end. maybe the papers you were reorganizing on your desk, or the tinfoil on the table as you tried to heat up a late night snack. “so much for adulthood—all you boys are the same.”

the same. as if he wasn’t here and you weren’t there, so, so far away.

“you could still come.” jake repeats. it’s a sobering effect. at least, he’d like to think so, but he’s still trying his hardest for his tongue to not stumble over some words, and he can’t look at the fairy lights adorning the top of the gazebo for too long before his head starts to pound again. 

“you could tell your favorite memory of heeseung to make up for ours,” he continues, “write down your congratulations on the wedding book yourself. they’re even playing your favorite song right now, you could come and show everyone how it’s done.” jake fumbles with the ring on his index finger, twisting it with his thumb. the heel of his shoe scuffs once into the wood below his feet. it’s all too tight. “come—have fun. we could even pretend not to know each other.”

the line goes quiet. a breath drawn. and then, softly, “i would never pretend to not know you, jake.”

he blinks, swallowing hard. it would be funny, if it weren’t so sad, the way jake was the one who called you, yet he’s the one without anything to say. rather, the things he wants to say, he can’t. you would have cried at the vows, he thinks. the exchanging of promises at the altar, rings slipped onto each other’s fingers. you were always soft for those kinds of things. 

(everyone looked at heeseung and minjeong when they said their vows. the words creep up his throat; he pushes them back down. i thought of you instead.)

jake is sure everyone knows, to some degree, at least. it’s why heeseung looked at him a little strange when he saw his date at the entrance, why everyone seemed to avoid mentioning your name like the plague around him. it’s not for lack of trying—moving past you. it’s why he brought yizhuo along in the first place, why he’s been doing everything he can to distract himself, why he’s been trying his best to not think of you again.

but tonight was different. tonight, where all his friends are gathered to celebrate, and the alcohol in his system warms his skin as the evening air grows chilly, and everyone he loves is here within reach except for you, jake finds that he’s still admitting it to himself, even months after.

(i miss you. more words he can’t say to you anymore. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you.)

“sorry,” he says eventually. jake isn’t really sure what for. maybe all of it.

“i…” you start out, but it trails off into silence. maybe it would have been an apology to match, but he thinks you knew it wouldn’t have sounded right either. there wasn’t really anything left to say. jake is here, and you’re there, and that distance isn’t really something either of you can fill anymore.

across the garden, jake can hear his name echoing across the venue. he’s pretty sure it’s sunoo, telling him to get his ass on the dance floor to get down to the dj’s newest rendition of apple bottom jeans, but it all sort of meshes together between the bushes and the trees.

“you should go,” you say lightly. “dance off the rest of the alcohol so you don’t wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow.”

you knew. jake burns a little out of embarrassment, feeling a bit like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. he doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that you could tell he was drunk from the beginning, or the fact that this meant you knew the first person he thought to drunk-dial was you.

“oh, don’t act surprised.” it’s a light-hearted jibe, but jake’s heart crawls up his throat and sits there, thick. “your pronunciation always gets sloppy when you’ve had too many drinks.”

of course you knew. you always did, like he never needed to say anything at all.

“you got me,” he responds, hoarse.

“what did you get this time? whiskey? margaritas? no way you got this drunk off hard seltzers—”

“beer.” sunoo calls his name again, closer, more insistent. “one too many.”

you laugh, and he wants to drown in it a little more, until he remembers it enough to not miss you anymore. “the great jake sim, taken down by an IPA.”

maybe he should thank it, if it got you to speak to him again. the skin sitting underneath his ring burns red. he needs to take off his tie. his shoes are still too tight around his toes. “i wish you were here.” maybe there were some things he needed to say, after all.

you smile, fond. he can’t see it, but there are some things about you he just knows, too. “bye, jake.”

but in the end, this is all there is to it: a him, and a you, and two versions of each other that you both can’t come back to. not anymore.

and that’s something that never needs to be said.

jake looks at the center of the altar, and he thinks he sees a glimpse of something else—the afterimage of love, a vision of two people left stranded from time. it disappears as quickly as it came. his breath hitches. there’s nothing left but this.

“bye, y/n.”

[issi-loves-dannyric]

You Belong With Me- Ollie Bearman

a/n: I'm a year older than Ollie so that's why I wrote it. One day this will be taken down as will all my other writings but at least not for a while. (personal choice cause yk work and everything) -Im tagging this as F1 since he's signed to Haas.

Summary: best friends to lovers, Ollie is too dumb to realize he's in love

angst ish with fluff

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

“She’s coming to a race” excitedly says to me while we walk in the paddock. 

“That's great!” I say faking enthusiasm, if he weren’t distracted by the girl he’s talking to he would’ve caught that I wasn’t happy. 

“I think I’m going to ask her out on a real date” he adds making my heart hurt a little more. 

“Yeah, that’s great. Hey, I’m going to go see some friends.” I say turning towards where Paul was standing on his phone. 

“Yeah-“ he says but is cut off by another message. Rolling my eyes I make my way towards the blonde. Feeling my presence coming up to him he looks up from his phone smiling. 

“Don’t see much of you without Ollie” he says smirking and opens his arms for a hug which I accept immediately. 

“Yeah he wouldn’t shut up about the girl he’s talking to  so figured might as well see some friends”

“Oh yeah, he talks about her all the time. I’ve met her before and she’s kinda…” he trails off

“A bitch”

“I didn’t say it but I’m not disagreeing” putting his hands up in defense. 

“No yeah, she definitely is a bitch and doesn’t like me.”

“Probably cause you and Ollie have a history” 

“He’s my best friend, of course, there’s history”

“Yeah…” before he could add anything Kimi and Dino were joining us making Paul drop the topic. 

2 months later

I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night-

“Ollie, what are you doing” I call out my window looking down at the boy who had spammed me to open my window. 

“I’ve barely heard from you for the past 2 months” he replies looking hurt. 

“Yeah…sorry” the last part being quiet.

“Are we going to talk like this or are you going to let me in?” He asks, sighing I push myself away going down to let him in quietly as possible. 

“Ollie it’s midnight” I whisper as we go towards my room door, allowing him to walk in before me to shut it. 

“I know but since when did it matter?” He replies lowly with a small tentative smile. 

“Since it’s been months from the last time you came over late or even had a full conversation,” I reply turning away, sitting on my bed. 

“Yeah” I could just barely hear, “just…I don’t know” he sighed staring at his feet. Looking at his face he’s trying to figure out what to say or do. 

“Something’s wrong” I state, patting the bed, “come here” making him look up at me. 

“I think she’s cheating on me, she’s just so different from me” he sighs referring to his girlfriend who has hated me for a while now. 

“Do you have proof?” I ask, although we don’t get along, she doesn’t deserve to be accused of something she didn’t do. 

“Kind of, I guess. Just she’s messaging her ex still, I think she went out with him today. Well, I know she did because of the photos.”

“Damn Ollie, that sucks,” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. “Are you going to do something about it?” I question 

“I’m going to confront her and see where it goes.” 

“Smart move” I replied looking up at him who was still avoiding eye contact. “Is there more?” Watching him fidget with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry for not being around” he quietly voice breaking a little. 

“It's fine, you were busy with your new life.” I reply not meaning to be petty but he did ghost me, his “best friend”. He finally looked up at me with glossy eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m proud of you no matter what” smiling softly at him even with my own eyes feeling pricks of tears. Reaching out to his face I wipe his tears away with the hoodie holding his cheeks. Putting his hand on mine, keeping me from letting go of him, “I don’t want to lose you, I feel like I already did” sobbed holding my hand even tighter. Moving my hand to him, leaning on the pillow behind me. 

I’m the one that makes you laugh when you know you’re 'bout to cry. 

“I’m not leaving, at least not all the way” feeling him hold onto me even tighter, “I’ll always support you, Ollie. You can always text or call me if you need to.” I tell him while running my fingers through his hair, feeling my tears sliding down my face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Bearman,” I say trying to lighten the mood, earning a small chuckle from him. Pulling out of my hold, wiping his tears, “I should probably go before my parents realize I'm not there” He says getting up towards the door. 

“Yeah, I’ll lock the door behind you so mine don’t think I just left the house open for robbers,” I say with a small smile. 

“I mean it, you can text or call me anytime, you know I will try my best to answer.” I remind him at the door. 

“I‘ll remember,” he says pulling me into one last tight hug. 

All this time how could you not know

Looking down at my phone I just got a notification,

Ollie: I was right, she just admitted it and didn’t think she was wrong since I travel. 

Sighing I respond 

‘I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ollie. At least you found out now.’ 

Going back to whatever movie was playing on the living room TV. My parents are off on a date meaning I get to have the house to myself, although it’s not as fun as it seems when you’re alone. My phone's insistent vibration distracts me, realizing that a call vibration I pick it up not glancing at the caller. 

“Hello”

“Hey…” Ollie’s voice comes through barely, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore really. I just miss you so much and this situation made me realize something.” He quickly lets out. 

“Ollie I never said I didn’t want to be in your life at all.” I reason

“Are you home?” He says sniffling. 

“Yeah, parents are out” 

“I need to come over” 

“Okay,” I reply quietly before hanging up.  

You belong with me. Have you ever thought, just maybe you belong with me?

Ollie's knocks were loud and fast making me get out faster walking to the door. The second I open the door, he puts his hand on my cheeks. 

“I want to kiss you” he mumbles leaning down slightly from the height difference. “Can I?” He breaths out 

“Yeah,” I say feeling heat on my cheeks now but quickly distracted by his lips on mine. Kissing him back I put my hands on the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Letting go realizing he’s rebounding, “What was that, Ollie?” I ask genuinely confused. 

“I’m sorry, I love you and it took that relationship for me to realize it.” 

“Still confused” 

“She said the reason she didn’t see the issue of her cheating was because I was in love with you the whole time. I thought she was crazy until I realized I compared her to you. Like the things you knew I liked or how you went out of your way to make me happy.” He paused putting one hand on my cheek again forcing me to look him in the eyes, “She’s right, I do love you more than just my best friend.” He finishes 

“Ollie” I whisper shocked by what he explained to me. 

“Please just give me a chance” he replied 

“I can’t be your rebound, Ollie. My feelings for you are real and I don’t want to be hurt.” I warn him. 

“You’re not a rebound I promise,” he says seriously. 

“Okay,” I reply causing him to smile slightly. 

“Okay?” 

“Prove you will try, Ollie,” I tell him, he lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his lips to mine. Accepting the kiss quickly but I pull away making him confused. “As much as I would like to kiss you in my front doorway so my whole neighborhood could see. I also have a movie playing so are you coming in or what?” I tell him, smiling widely, he accepts my invitation following me to sit on the couch. Curling up into him like we used to do, this time there’s no feeling of confusion about whether he likes me or not. 

You belong with me

“You know you’ve watched this hundreds of times.” He states referring to Coraline playing. 

“Yeah, and I’ll watch it a hundred more times.” I smile looking up at him. Pulling my face closer he started to kiss me again, this time I didn’t stop it, or at least for a moment until realizing I could hear my parents coming in through the garage. Letting go I shift to have my head on his chest with my right arm wrapped around his stomach. 

“Hey Ollie” they calmly say walking by us before going towards the stairs, “Oh hey try not to kiss in front of the whole neighborhood next time.” Before going up. Making me giggle remembering the cameras that watch the front door. 

“I forgot about the cameras,” he says embarrassed. 

“Yeah…me too” I added. 

[gardenschedule]

John not meaning what he says

You know, we all say a lot of things when we don’t know what we’re talking about. I’m probably doing it now, I don’t know what I say. You see, everybody takes you up on the words you said, and I’m just a guy that people ask all about things, and I blab off and some of it makes sense and some of it is bullshit and some of it’s lies and some of it is — God knows what I’m saying. I don’t know what I said about Maharishi, all I know is what we said about Apple, which was worse.

John Lennon: The Rolling Stone Interview, Part One

“It’s sort of complicated but sometimes you say things, but it’s not really what you meant to say. If I say something to you and you hear it different from what I’ve said it, and you answer back and we’re not really getting down to it. I’m really talking like that you know. Like somebody says ‘do you want ice cream?’ and I’ll say no, and actually I meant yes. You find yourself saying the opposite of what you mean. This happens to me quite a lot. I speak a lot, but what I say is not always what I mean.“

John Lennon, 1973.

‘I was told recently by Yoko that one of the things that hurt John over the years was me going off and doing The Family Way,’ Paul says. The filmmaking Boulting brothers had approached him via George Martin. ‘I thought this was a great opportunity. We were all free to do stuff outside the Beatles and we’d each done various little things.’ When he mentioned it to John, Paul said, ‘He would have had his suit of armour on and said: “No, I don’t mind.”

Paul McCartney, c/o Ray Coleman, McCartney: Yesterday and Today. (1995)

But by the time I arrived, an agitated John was deeply involved indeed. More specifically, he was having a row with Paul and George Martin. “We’ve already done the concept album,” he argued, presumably referring to Pepper. “Why do we need to do another one?” “Look, John, we’re just trying to think symphonically,” George replied. “We’re trying to create a complete work out of song fragments.” John was derisive at first, saying, “You’re taking yourselves too seriously,” but when Paul invited him to contribute some compositions of his own to the medley, he seemed to capitulate. “Well, I might have one or two that could fit,” he said sheepishly. I exchanged glances with Paul. I’m sure we were both thinking the same thing: He’s just been waiting to be asked.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

SHEFF: But you didn’t compose your stuff separately, as other accounts have said? JOHN: No, no, no. I said that, but I was lying. [Laughs.] By the time I said that, we were so sick of this idea of writing and singing together, especially me, that I started this thing about, “We never wrote together, we were never in the same room.” Which wasn’t true. We wrote a lot of stuff together, one-on-one, eyeball to eyeball.

John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

PLAYBOY: "When you talk about working together on a single lyric like "We Can Work It Out,' it suggests that you and Paul worked a lot more closely than you've admitted in the past. Haven't you said that you wrote most of your songs separately, despite putting both of your names on them?" LENNON: "Yeah, I was lying. (laughs) It was when I felt resentful, so I felt that we did everything apart. But, actually, a lot of the songs we did eyeball to eyeball."

John Lennon, 1980

“No, no, no,” he answered and he meant it. “I’m going to be an ex-Beatle for the rest of my life so I might as well enjoy it, and I’m just getting around to being able to stand back and see what happened. A couple of years ago I might have given everybody the impression I hate it all, but that was then. I was talking when I was straight out of therapy and I’d been mentally stripped bare and I just wanted to shoot my mouth off to clear it all away. Now it’s different. “When I slagged off the Beatle thing in the papers, it was like divorce pangs, and me being me it was blast this and fuck that, and it was just like the old days in the Melody Maker, you know, ‘Lennon Blasts Hollies’ on the back page. You know, I’ve always had a bit of a mouth and I’ve got to live up to it. Daily Mirror: ‘Lennon beats up local DJ at Paul’s 21st birthday party’. Then we had that fight Paul and me had through the Melody Maker, but it was a period I had to go through.

John Lennon, interview w/ Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life. (September 14th, 1974)

GEORGE: I remember the day when John did an interview with a certain magazine and said certain things, and then I remember the day when he disagreed with what he’d said, but the man who interviewed him denied him the right to change his mind and, even though it was two and a half years, later still went ahead and published something which John said he no longer agreed with himself on. Which means the dream was over, yet certain people wouldn’t allow him to have his dream... over. Nudge nudge wink wink, say no more. [inaudible] JOHN: In other words, imagine if somebody or if you accidentally bang your head and you shout, “Ow!” – that’s the end of it. [self-conscious; laughs] Right? GEORGE: And he said that too. JOHN: I mean, it doesn’t go on for the next five years, right? And we all did that.

December 21st, 1974 (New York)

INT: It seem that you did minimize a little bit, what the, what the effect was on the, value and lifestyle and all that. You said that there was almost nothing left of Beatles. JOHN: Well I get bitter too, you know. And uh, also it was always the insistence that the Beatles led something, you know. And if anything they were figureheads, you know. And, I put it more succinctly later on when I thought about it. When I said those statements A) I was bitter and upset; emotionally upset cause we just split up, you know. I call it a divorce right. But when I think about it, obviously…you know, I can change my mind.

John interviewed by Jean-François Vallée in April 1975.

Underground journalist Felix Dennis watched the session. ‘I remember Ringo getting more and more upset by this… I have a clear memory of him saying, “That’s enough, John.”’ Lennon and Ono competed to come up with the most insulting lines, Dennis said. ‘Some of it was absolutely puerile. Thank God a lot of it never actually got recorded because it was highly, highly personal, like a bunch of schoolboys standing in the lavatory making scatological jokes.’ ‘John would forgive himself, and expect Paul to forgive him,’ Derek Taylor recalled.

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money: The Battle for the Soul of the Beatles. (2009)

I went through a period of trying to encourage Paul by writing and saying things that I thought would spur him on. But I think they were misunderstood. That's how "How Do You Sleep?" (on the "Imagine" album) was intended. Although I suppose it was a bit hard on him.

John Lennon Talks To Ray Connolly May 18th 1972 Radio Times

“At the moment he is cut off from the three of us. The last time I saw him was in December.” Asked whether he thought John Lennon’s recent unkind references to Paul on his “Imagine” album, had deepened the rift, George replied: “Maybe John felt like that about Paul at the time he was writing the song, but he doesn’t feel like that all the time. The song doesn’t represent what he really feels. It’s just John – people don’t really understand. “I think John’s record is great – though that track about Paul is a bit hard. But it’s only something felt at the time . . . ”

George Harrison, interviewed by Mike Hennessey for Record Mirror (October 16, 1971)

JOHN: (smiles) You know, I wasn’t really feeling that vicious at the time. But I was using my resentment toward Paul to create a song, let’s put it that way. He saw that it pointedly refers to him, and people kept hounding him about it. But, you know, there were a few digs on his album before mine. He’s so obscure other people didn’t notice them, but I heard them. I thought, Well, I’m not obscure, I just get right down to the nitty-gritty. So he’d done it his way and I did it mine. But as to the line you quoted, yeah, I think Paul died creatively, in a way.

John’s Playboy interview as published in the magazine’s January 1981 issue

He turned to me and told me that he had been equally vicious about Paul during the same period and that Paul had got it right when he had declared that the only person John was hurting with his vitriolic behavior was himself. It was not exactly an apology, more like an explanation.

Glyn Johns, Sound Man: A Life Recording Hits with the Rolling Stones, the Who, Led Zeppelin, the Eagles, Eric Clapton, the Faces… (2014)

“I have to ask you, what was all that stuff in the telegraph about?... And he’s gone oh yeah, look, speak to Paul about that, I wasn’t in a good place mentally at the time. Just speak to Paul about it…. I thought it was a real cop out because he had hurt me, he’d said something unfair, and rather than just apologise, what he basically said was I’ve apologised to Paul, and Paul’s accepted my apology for for my behaviour in that period, the immediate aftermath of the Beatles, and therefore speak to him and he will explain to you why you should forgive me”.

I am the EggPod guest Sam Delaney talking about a Get Back screening Q&A with Glynn Johns

“I’m trying to be mad at you, but you’re so nice, it isn’t easy,” Glyn replied. Then he explained that he had been upset by John’s comments about him in the “Lennon Remembers” interviews. John had said that Let It Be, which had been re-mixed by Glyn, had wound up sounding awful, and Glyn, a true professional, had been very offended by John’s comments. John did not remember saying it at all and he was very embarrassed. He explained, “I had just done primal therapy. I was just lettin’ off steam. That interview was just a lot of anger.” Glyn stared at John. John’s words had hurt him, and he had never expected that John would not remember what he had said, nor had he perceived that the comments would be dismissed as “just lettin’ off steam.” Like everyone else, he believed everything the public John said and took him very seriously. John repeatedly apologised to Glyn, and eventually the matter was dropped.

Loving John

“John’s most influential interviews, interviews which people took as gospel truth, were for John occasions to blow off steam and then to forget what he had said.”

May Pang, The Lost Weekend

At the time, we at Apple weren’t feeling good anyway, because Apple had failed; and here was one of our friends telling everyone who reads Rolling Stone that we were bastards. In the end we had to say, ‘Well, we’re not.’ John later retracted some of it, and we became friends again. And I forgave him. He would forget he’d said it, and expect to be forgiven, as he always was.

Derek Taylor, interview w/ Peter Doggett for Record Collector. (August, 1988)

John had gone through a tremendous upheaval in his private life, and he was a very odd person at times; he wasn’t at all himself. There was the famous interview he did for Rolling Stone, which has been reprinted many times, in which he says many unfair and untrue things, slagged everybody off, including me. I took him to task over it later on, asking him, “Why did you say all those things? It wasn’t very nice.” He said, “Oh, I was just stoned out of my head.” That was his only apology, really. Unfortunately, that has become history now; it’s accepted as the Bible.”

George Martin, interview w/ Howard Massey for Musician. (February, 1999)

“If you look at interviews and stuff with John, from around about that time he was in Imagine [documentary] he kind of admits that he’s having problems with himself. So, well, the first thing you do when you’re having problems with yourself is you bitch about someone else. And the closest person was me…He had a real go at me. I personally think it was ‘cause he was trying to clear the decks for Yoko. He’s got a new love, he’s trying to say to her, “Look, baby, I love you. I hate those guys.” And I think—you also have to remember John was going through a lot of problems. And you know, as they say, people, when they’re going through problems, come out with that kind of stuff. You know that, we all know that. When you’re in a bad mood, the first thing you do is badmouth somebody else. You don’t want to badmouth yourself…Some of the times, he was having other sorts of problems…So—like most of what John said, I take it with a pinch of salt. I love him still. I don’t care what he said, you know. Even if he badmouths me, I still know that he was a great guy, and that he loved me.”

Paul McCartney

PLAYBOY: In his Playboy Interview, John said that was a song he didn't like and never could have written.

PAUL: Who knows what John liked? You know, John would say he didn't like one thing one minute and the next he might like it. I don't really know what he liked or didn't like, you know! It would depend on what mood he was in on a given day, really, what he would like.... I don't care; I liked it!

Paul McCartney: The Complete Playboy Interview, 1984 (thanks @tavolgisvist for the quote!)

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? With him being the team principal for Merc, it was expected that she would also support the team and she did. But, she was and still a tifosi at heart and everyone knows it. So when Carlos wins the Australian GP and Charles P2, she sang her heart out during the national anthem was being played. He could see how much she loved the team and he wouldn't want her to stop supporting it. Because he always knew, whatever happened she would stick by his side no matter what. Just something fluff and sweet. Thanks!! :)))

okay, this is short, but the bachelor fic is really long, but im trying to empty my inbox while writing it, so, a little short :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

toto wolff x female!wife!tifosi!reader

“And um, while we’re on light hearted topics, moving on from Carlos’ miraculous recovery, i do just want to bring up Y/N Wolff, was at today’s race, obviously horrible race for Mercedes, and we really did think she would be quite upset by it, but um, she was later spotted in the Ferrari crowd.” Damon Hill said, trying to avoid getting trampled in the Australian paddock

“Yeah, it was a little odd, we did ask a couple of Mercedes mechanics that we ran into, and they all seemed to know what we were talking about and they all had these knowing smiles, and Shov even quoted Seb saying ‘everyone is a ferrari fan. Even if they say they are not, they are a ferrari fan’ so very odd things going on in the Mercedes garage.” Paul di Resta mentioned

“Let’s um, let’s cut to the footage so you know what we’re talking about.” Damon Hill pointed at the screen.

The Sky broadcast cut to a past shot from the podium. The shot was pretty simple, Y/N standing in her Mercedes shirt, standing out in the sea of red and orange shirts. The anthem and the Italian engineers made it difficult to hear, but her body language and the fact that she was mouthing the words to the Italian National Anthem, with her arm around Fred’s shoulder, swaying side to side.

The camera then panned to Toto, who had an adorable look on his face. It had obviously been a horrible weekend for Mercedes, but he had a grin on his face as he watched Y/N cheering for ferrari. Multiple mechanics were calling out his names as he gazed at his wife looking at the ferrari boys.

“Damn he’s whipped, i think that’s what all the kids are saying these days.” Paul di Resta said

“And speak of the man himself, hey Toto. Got time for a chat?” Damon Hill called out to the tall Austrian, as he walked past. Toto nodded and grabbed a microphone.

“Toto, we obviously saw your wife celebrating the ferrari 1-2, should we be concerned that she is leaving you to join Lewis at Ferrari?” Paul di Resta asked

“No, not at all, whatever happens, I have faith that my wife will stick by my side no matter what. I also don’t think she finds the guys with no hair attractive, so better luck next time Fred.” Toto shrugged before wandering off, probably to find his wife.

--

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[therealcocoshady]

Ok sorry for blowing up your asks, but I have one that might be right up your angsty alley…

Marshall is having a particularly hard time on one of the anniversaries of Proof’s passing…🕊️ He’s super vulnerable with reader and she has to comfort him 😔🥺

DIFFICULT 🕊️

Eminem x Assistant Reader

Synopsis : Em is nowhere to be found as you're waiting for him for an important meeting. Turns out... It's the anniversary of Proof's passing and he needs you.

Tags : Vulnerability - Grief - Angst - Comfort

Author's Note : Thank you for this Ask ! I low-key love that you thought of me when it comes to angsty requests 👀. I got inspired and ended up writing quite a bit but I'm afraid it's all over the place. I hope you like it nonetheless. ❤️

Do you know where he is ? Paul asked, visibly unnerved. He should already be here ! 

He’s coming, you assured the manager. I reminded him of this meeting on Friday, don’t worry, he’s going to show up. 

It’s your job to make sure he shows up on time, Y/N, Paul added sternly. That’s what personal assistants are for. 

He’s never late, you said. I’m sure there’s a good reason. Something must have come up… 

It was unlike Marshall to show up late to a work meeting, especially when it involved music. In the past year, since you had started working for him, he had never shown up late anywhere. If anything, he was a bit neurotic about punctuality. « Early is on time, on time is late » he always said. And when it came to anything regarding his latest album, he tended to show up extremely early, polishing details up until the last minute. Except that, today, he was almost thirty minutes late and you were facing Paul and Dre on your own, and there was only so much small talk you could make. 

Look, if the album’s not ready for me to listen to yet, you guys just have to say so, Dre said. 

No, it is, Paul assured him. I mean, you know Marshall, he’s always trying to polish and tweak little things, but we have a version that’s more than ready for you. We wouldn’t have you come from LA otherwise… 

I’ll try an call him, you said. 

You got up and went to your office. You were starting to be a little freaked out. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but you were starting to feel scared that something terrible had happened. One time, he got into a car crash and was not even that late. Thirty minutes late for Marshall was basically four hours late for anyone else. You got out of the room and tried to call him, but he didn’t pick up. Had he lost his phone ? You knew he hated the iPhone you had convinced him to buy - to replace his more than ancient Blackberry - and he used it as little as possible, but him losing anything was unlikely. And he knew about this meeting. You had specifically reminded him of it. He wouldn’t show up late to a meeting with Dre. He had way too much respect for the man. You nervously checked his iCloud calendar, thinking that maybe he was confused about the time. Unlikely but not impossible either. You remembered adding the event « Meeting with Dre - ALBUM VERSION 1 » for this Monday, 9:00 AM a while ago. But it was nowhere to be found. Had it been accidentally deleted ? Had you dropped the ball ? No. Impossible. Not to toot your own horn, but you wouldn’t screw up like that. It was probably a bug. You checked the week’s other events. Deleted too. You knew he had other meetings and studio sessions planned, but they did not appear on the calendar. Weird. Especially since last week’s event were still appearing, and the following week’s too. It looked like someone had cleared this week’s schedule and you knew it wasn’t you. It had to be Marshall, then, since he was the only other person to have access to his calendar. You were worried. He would not clear a whole week’s schedule, especially not when he was nearly done with his album. Something had to have happened. Something awful, by the looks of it. Your mind immediately went to his family. They were the only people he would clear his schedule for. You decided to call Hailie, hoping that nothing awful had happened to her or her sisters. 

Hey Y/N, you heard her soft voice say as she picked up the phone. How are you ? 

Hey Hailie, you said nervously. Are you alright ? 

All good, she said. Why ? Are you ok ? Is there anything wrong ? 

Um… I don’t know, you said. I'm trying to reach your Dad. Have you heard of him ? 

Not since Thursday, I think. He told me he was spending the weekend with you. What’s wrong ? 

He’s just a little late to a meeting, you said as you tried to sound casual. I was worried that something had happened to you, your sisters, Nate… 

No, we’re all good, she said reassuringly. Look, I’m in Chicago, but I can try and call him… 

Don’t worry about it, you said. Enjoy Chicago.

Thank you ! See you ! 

Hailie didn’t seem too worried, so there was at least that. However, you were a little bugged off. You absolutely had not spent the weekend with Marshall and, frankly, you were a bit shocked that he had lied to his daughter about it. Not that you never spent the weekend together - in the past six months, it had happened quite a bit - but he was not the type to lie to his daughter. It was odd that he would use you as a lie, especially since your relationship - if you could call it that - was still in the developing stage. As far as Hailie was concerned, you were the closest thing her Dad had to a girlfriend but, in actuality, it was a bit more complicated. It wasn’t necessarily serious or committed, and there most certainly wasn’t any label on it. You were his personal assistant, whom he occasionally fooled around with. The only reason Hailie saw you as his girlfriend was that she had walked in on the two of you making out with very, very few clothes on. Thank God, she was an adult and didn’t really want to know anything about it. No one ever mentioned the incident but she assumed there was something between you and Marshall. And there was. In a way. But he wasn’t really the kind of guy to put a label on it and you knew it. He was extremely guarded and, even though you knew you were one of the people closest to him, you didn’t expect much. He was a really great boss, amazing man and more than satisfactory lover, but you knew him enough to know it would never evolve into anything serious. « I don’t do relationships, you know » he had once told you. And you didn’t mind. You enjoyed things just the way they were. The way you saw it, the sex you sometimes had - usually on work trips or late nights - was a perk to your job, along with the generous salary and health benefits. But regardless of all that, him lying about spending the weekend with you was extremely odd. You tried calling him again, but were sent straight to voicemail. You sheepishly went back to the conference room. 

Did you talk to him ? Paul asked. 

No news, you said. That’s odd. I’ll go to his place and if he’s not there, I’ll try the hospitals. I’m sorry. 

I hope he’s ok, Dre said. Keep us posted ? 

Of course. 

You made your way to your car and drove to his place. Security knew your car and plates and saw you often enough to let you through the gates. You parked in front of Marshall’s house and immediately noticed that the car he used the most was parked out front. He was home. Thank God, you didn’t have to worry about a car crash. You rang the bell but no one came to open it. Maybe he had slipped in the shower and injured his head ? Or fallen down the stairs ? No. You often joked about him being older but he wasn’t geriatric either. Still, you were worried so you used your spare key and let yourself in. 

The house was unusually dark and messy. You checked downstairs, the living room, kitchen, office… It was messy, like someone had rummaged through things, but Marshall was nowhere to be found. You tried every room upstairs, every closet, every bedroom, but he wasn’t there either. You decided to try the only remaining space you hadn’t checked : the basement (you doubted he was in the garage - he liked his cars but not enough to cancel a meeting about music). That’s where you found him : in one of the dimly lit rooms he had converted into a home music studio, laying on the carpet, eyes closed, headphones on his head. You gasped and almost thought he was dead. You immediately rushed to his side and checked his breath. As soon as you approached, he slowly opened his eyes and groaned. 

Marshall, are you alright ? You asked. Are you hurt ? 

No, he said in a raspy voice before sitting up. 

You examined his face : he looked like a zombie, or at least like someone who had forgotten what sleep and food were. And judging by the smell, he had also forgotten about showers. You usually enjoyed his masculine scent but now he was smelling as rank as a teenage boy addicted to video games. 

What are you doing here ? He asked. 

I came to check you weren’t dead, you said. You missed the meeting with Dre. Paul is furious. 

Wait… What day is it ? He asked in confusion. 

Monday, you said. April 12th. 

Fuck. 

He rubbed his eyes and scratched his beard, and you inspected him closer. His eyes were bloodshot, with huge dark circles. The beard he usually kept well-trimmed was all over the place, so was his short hair, and his breath smelled of energy drink. He had always had a penchant for soda and Redbull, but it usually wasn’t to the point of smelling like a candy factory. Well, if you added the smell of sweat, it was more like someone who ran a marathon in the Redbull factory. Marshall looked at you without saying a word. 

Are you alright ? You asked. 

Does it look like I’m alright ? He groaned. 

Not really, you admitted - not really knowing what to say. 

Why are you ask, then ?

If you hadn’t been so worried, you would have snapped at him for behaving like an ass, but it wasn’t him. You sighed and looked at the CDs he’d been listening to : « Searching for Jerry Garcia » and « I Miss the Hip Hop Shop » by Proof. That’s when it hit you : today was April 12th and April 11th was the anniversary of his best friend’s passing. The both of you were sitting on the carpet, not saying a word. He knew that you knew. 

Do you… Um… Want to talk about it ? You asked tentatively. 

I need a shower, he said. 

Yes he did. He definitely did. You got up and waited for him to do the same but he simply groaned as he tried to move. You gave him your hand and helped him up as he let out a moan and held his back. You wondered how long he’d been laying there, listening to music and losing track of time. He seemed to have trouble even standing up. « God, he must be exhausted », you thought. 

Need help ? You asked. 

Y-Yeah, he said. 

Shower ? 

Yeah. 

Without a word, you helped him to the nearest bathroom where he started undressing without even waiting for you to leave. You could feel your cheeks burn. You’d seen him naked before, sure, but this different than the two of you shedding your clothes in a passionate moment. Now, you had the feeling of seeing something you weren’t supposed to. It felt a bit weird. You watched him step in the shower and went upstairs, to his closet, to pick some clothes for him to wear. You grabbed boxers, some sweatpants, a wife beater and a hoodie and put them in the bathroom, near the sink before opening the windows to let in some light and fresh air, as you tidied up a bit. You’d spent some time in his house before but you had never seen the place this messy. 

Thanks for the clothes, Marshall said as he emerged from the bathroom. 

Feeling better ? You asked. 

Yeah.

When was the last time you showered ? You asked. 

I don’t know, he shrugged. 

Last time you ate ? 

Fri…Sat… I don’t know, he replied. 

He seemed gaunt and, even if the shower seemed to have done some good, Marshall seemed like a corpse. He was standing there, staring at you, not extremely responsive. You had never seen him like this and it was definitely a far cry from his usual self. Ever since you had met him for the first time, you had found him to have an impressive presence. Whenever he walked into a room, he naturally drew attention to him and he had such charisma that he seemed bigger than he actually was. But for the first time, he looked weak and lost. 

Are you hungry ? You asked. 

A bit, he replied. 

Sit, you said. I’ll prepare something. What do you want ? Pasta ? 

Whatever, he said. 

He sat on the couch and you made your way to the kitchen. Being the one responsible for his shopping, you knew the pantry like the back of your hand and knew exactly what was in there. You decided to make some homemade spaghetti, using Mom’s Spaghetti sauce with homemade garlic toasts. His lazy comfort food. When you brought his plate to the living room, he was manspreading, looking at the ceiling. 

Thanks, he said as you handed him the food. Chips would have been enough, you know ? 

You need to eat a real meal, you simply said. 

He nodded and started to eat. You noticed he was avoiding your gaze. He usually didn’t have much trouble maintaining eye contact, except for when he was ashamed, or sad, or tired. In this case, you knew it was probably a mixture of everything. There was no doubt as to his exhaustion and sadness, and you knew he would feel ashamed for missing an important work meeting. You looked at him and left the room to go and call Paul. 

So ? He asked. How is he ? 

He’s… sick, you lied, knowing full well Marshall wouldn’t want you telling people how you had found him. 

Sick ? The managed asked. What does he have ? 

The flu, you said. It’s pretty nasty. I cleared up his schedule for the week. He needs rest. He’s really sorry about the meeting. 

Alright. I’ll call him later, he said. Dre has to leave today, we’ll have to set up another meeting. 

I’ll let him know. 

You also texted Hailie to let her know you had managed to get ahold of her Dad. When you got back to Marshall, he was looking at a picture frame of him and Proof. From the looks of it, you guessed it was from 2005-2006. You sat next to him in silence. 

The flu ? He asked in a raspy voice. 

Couldn’t come up with anything better on the spot, you said. At least, it buys you the rest of the week so you can rest. 

No need, he said. I can… I can work. 

Bullshit, you sighed. 

He stared in your eyes for the first time all day and sighed. His eyes went back to the picture frame and you could see hum swallow dryly. 

Went was this taken ? You asked. 

March 2006, he said in a breaking voice. It’s the last picture of him I have… 

His breath was shaky and you could tell he was on the verge if tears. You placed a hand over his and gently stroked his skin. 

It’s ok to cry, you know ? You said softly. 

You weren’t too sure why you said that. Of course it was ok to cry. A man in his fifties, especially your boss, did not need your permission to cry. Or so you thought. Because as soon as the words left your lips, the tears started to flow and he started sobbing. You put a hand on his back and tried to soothe him while you saw his face redden and scrunch up, his tears wetting his face. It was painful seeing him like this and you wished there was something you could do. If that were possible, you would gladly take his pain and make it yours. 

Fu-fuck, I-I’m sorry, he said after a while. 

You have nothing to apologize for, you said gently. It’s ok. He was your best friend. It’s ok to be sad. 

I-I fucked up…

It’s just a work meeting, you reminded him. We’ll set up another meeting with Dre, I’ll move a couple of appointments, it’s fine. 

No, not… I-I…

He was trying to speak but he wasn’t making much sense. He was stuttering, his voice cracking, changing pitch… You put your arms around him, half-expecting him to push you away but he didn’t. You kept running a hand up and down his back to soothe him a bit and it seemed effective. 

Thank you, Y/N, he said. 

Were you like this all weekend ? You asked. 

Yeah… 

Is that why you told Hailie I was spending the weekend with you ? 

I… Yeah, he said sheepishly. I didn’t want the kids to see me like this. 

I see, you said. So… what ? You listened to his music, looked at pictures and lost track of time ? 

I guess, he shrugged. I… I tried to go to his grave yesterday but it was packed. 

I guess a lot of people miss him, you said. 

No, it was… I saw them and they were wearing… My tee-shirts. My merch. They were my fans. On his grave. And it drove me fucking mad. Because I couldn’t even get out of my car, and I had to see these people pay respect but they were fans. They didn’t know him. And I saw the posts on social media. And people keep on making it about me. 

His voice broke again. You had often had conversations with him about fame and how he was dealing with it. Most of the time, he was grateful for it, though he often gave the impression that he didn’t really get why he was famous and how people could look up to him so much. « It’s just me », he often said. Deep down, he only saw himself as a guy trying to make it in hip-hop, trying to be the best emcee. Fame was never really part of his plan, though he was grateful for the success and love of people granted him. But the way he was speaking, it seemed like less of a blessing and more of a curse. He explained to you that he felt guilty for people making Proof’s death about him. Sure, he was his best friend, but he was so much more, and he just wished people would respect his legacy and everything he meant to the hip-hop culture. He also felt guilty when he thought about Proof’s family, who didn’t only have to deal with a tragic loss but also his own fame, and always being asked questions about him. 

His wife… She always hated me, you know ? He said. She hated all of us. Proof was never home, always either getting in trouble with us or trying to keep us out of it. Now we don’t speak too much and… I mean, I get it, I was his friend, not hers, but… I don’t know. I was supposed to be an uncle to his kids, you know ? I’m supposed to be there for them, not make things difficult. I’m supposed to be the one sending flowers, not receiving them in their place. 

Do you keep in touch ? You asked. 

I try, he said. I mean, if the kids need something, they know they can call. Sharonda too. She never would, she’s too proud but… Yeah, I just wish I could do more, you know ? 

I know, you said. You shouldn’t feel guilty… 

No, I should, he shrugged. When he died, I was a massive asshole about it… I mean, I guess I made it a lot about me. But now it makes me so mad. And sad. And I miss him so much and I just wish I could apologize to him. 

For what ? You asked as you stroked his hand. 

Everything, he shrugged. For being ungrateful and not seeing everything he did to hold down the fort. Proof… He was strong when I was weak. And I never got to tell him how thankful I am. If it weren’t for him, I’d still be making burgers. 

I’m sure he knew how much you loved him, you said softly. 

I hope, he said. He was everything to me… Like… We didn’t love each other like that, you know. Like, no homo or whatever. But sometimes I think he was the love of my life. In a platonic way. Like, he was my other half, the one who made me a better person. And now that he’s gone… I’m just me. And it’s hard. 

You’re still pretty great, you said. And I know he would be proud of you. 

I… I don’t know, he said. 

He seemed lost in his thoughts. You realized you had been stroking his back the whole time and stopped. He turned to you with his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t even have to ask for you to resume. It was the first time the two of you had such a prolonged physical contact without it being sexual and you wondered if he noticed, too. He closed his eyes and you looked at him some more. He was clearly exhausted and you weren’t too sure how long he would need to sleep. Probably a long time. 

You should go to bed, you said softly. 

I guess, he shrugged. 

You need rest, you insisted. I’ll do the dishes and go home, ok ? You can call me if you need anything. 

Can you stay ? He asked nervously. I… I don’t feel like being… alone. 

Sure, you said with a hint of surprise. 

Ok. 

He got up and headed upstairs. When he noticed you weren’t following him, he turned to you with a raised eyebrow. 

You don’t want to come ? 

Upstairs ? You asked with your eyebrows furrowed. To your… room ? 

You said I needed to sleep, he pointed out. I’m not sleeping on the damn couch. 

You shrugged and followed him. That was new. You had slept over a couple of times, but never in the same bed as him. The only circumstances in which you had seen his bedroom were strictly sexual. But as soon as the deed was done, he wouldn’t sleep in the same bed as you. And even when you had slept with him during work trips, you’d been back to your own room after. It was one of the many ways in which he could be guarded and you knew it had nothing to do with you. He just had his quirky, peculiar ways. He got in bed and looked at you intently. 

Come, he said. 

Ok, you said as you sat next to him. 

Remove your socks, he instructed. 

I’m not removing my socks, you said. My feet are cold. 

You’re not getting in my bed with your dirty socks, he pointed out. 

I just put them on this morning, you said. They’re not dirty. 

It’s a pet peeve, he said. Just… Socks off, ok ? And get under the covers. 

You scoffed. If he was in a good enough state to be oddly specific - as he often was about practically everything in his life - it was a good sign. You took your socks off and sat in bed, under the covers. It felt weird but Marshall didn’t seem to pick on it. He simply laid there and stared at you. 

You’re not laying down ? He finally asked. 

Um… Sitting is fine, you said. 

Can you lie down, please ? He asked. 

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow but still did as you were told. As soon as you laid down next to him, he closed his eyes. Given how exhausted he looked, you half-expected him to fall asleep right then and there but he didn’t. Instead, he kept on tossing and turning. 

What’s up ? You asked. Do you need anything ? 

I think it’s the Redbull, he said. I haven’t drank much else in days. It’s keeping me awake. 

Oh, you said. Let’s talk, then. 

About what ? He asked. 

I don’t know, you shrugged. We can talk about anything. What’s up with the cleared schedule on iCloud ? Did you do that ? 

Yeah… I don’t know, he said sheepishly. I… I went to the cemetery yesterday and when I couldn’t go and had to go home, I guess I lost it. There were these thoughts in my head and… I’m not sure I can do it anymore. Without Proof it’s… too hard. 

Tears were welling in his eyes again. It had been more than fifteen years since Proof’s passing and Marshall had put out quite a few albums in that time, but the wound still seemed fresh. It wasn’t a matter of his technical ability to do it without Proof - of course he could - it was about whether or not he wanted to. 

Ok, you said. 

Ok ? He asked. 

What do you want me to say ? You asked. Do you want me to plead for you to keep going ? I’m not going to. If you want to quit and retire, that’s ok, you’re allowed. 

Really ? 

I mean… Yeah, you said simply. It’s your decision. If you think you don’t have anything else to bring to the table, that’s fine. You’ve had a good run and a career people can only dream of having. If you decide to put an end to it, that’s fine. 

Wait… No, he said. I mean, your job is to talk me out of it. Is that some reverse psychology thing ? 

It’s Paul’s job to talk you out of it, you clarified. Me, I’m just a personal assistant. My job is to manage your schedule and make life easier for you. Whether or not you put out music, my job’s fine as long as you need me to do your shopping, come to football games with you and remind you of your dentist’s appointments. Next one is in two months by the way. 

He chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile. His face was still puffy and he still didn’t look his best, but hearing him laugh - however lightly - was good. He was a great person and you hated seeing him like this. Of all the people you had ever met, he was the one who had suffered the most, and deserved it the least. He was a good, hardworking, honest and generous man, on top of being one of the most talented people ever. His sadness was breaking your heart. If his career was making him sad, if keeping on going without Proof was too hard, he should be allowed to quit. He had earned it and, in your opinion, he didn’t have anything left to prove to anyone. 

So you don’t care whether I end my career or not ? He asked with an amused look. 

As a fan, I think it would be tragic, you said. Especially If you don’t put out that last album. It’s your best work so far. But as a person… What I care about is you, Marshall. I’m in the front row, seeing how hard you work every day. If you say that’s too hard, then that’s too hard and I trust you on that. If you think you’ll be happier doing something else, just enjoying life with your family and focusing on your charity, you should do that. 

Proof would kick my ass for thinking of quitting, he said pensively. 

I think Proof would want you to be happy, you pointed out. 

He hummed and looked at you. He brought a hand to your face and stroked your face as a single tear rolled on his cheek. You smiled and wiped the tear, letting your hand cup his face. You stared at each other in silence. It was unusual but, oddly enough, not uncomfortable. 

Thank you for staying, Y/N, he simply said before letting out a small yawn. 

You should really try and get some sleep, you replied softly. 

He nodded and closed his eyes as you heard him take deep breaths. A couple of minutes later, he was asleep. You could hear him snore lightly. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was only 1PM. You figured you’d stay there for a while and let him sleep while you answered a couple of e-mails. After a couple of hours, Marshall was still sleeping soundly. You thought you might as well do some tidying up in the house, but as soon as you tried to move, you felt his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You smiled to yourself as you realized it was the first time you actually cuddled with him - and you enjoyed it more than you probably should. Your back was against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. This and the sensation of his arm around you were incredibly soothing and you allowed yourself to close your eyes for a minute.

(…)

Marshall groaned as you gently shook his shoulder to try and wake him up. He scrunched up his nose and let out a few obscenities. He looked pissed off as he opened his eyes. 

What time is it ? He groaned. 

About 7PM, you said. 

You better have a good reason to wake me up, he sighed. 

I think I do. You have clothes on your bed and ten minutes to get changed, ok ? 

I’m not getting dressed, and I’m not going out, he said with an eye roll. 

And I’m not giving you a choice, you said with a smile. Get up. Please. You won’t regret it. 

You made your way downstairs and prepared a bottle of water and a snack for Marshall as you waited for him. When he arrived, he looked a bit puzzled. He was still clearly tired but he looked a lot better. You made him get in your car and drove to the cemetery. You had called ahead of time and asked if they would do you a favor and keep the place open for a couple more hours. You used the « Marshall Mathers » card, which always worked when it came to getting a table at a fancy restaurant, borrowing a private jet or keeping a store open when Marshall needed to shop for his daughters’ birthday. 

What are we doing here ? He asked as you parked out front.

You know what we’re doing here, you said. It’s after hours and you get to pay your respects in peace. 

You… You arranged for this ?

I did, you said. They’ll be open until 8:30PM. I’m sorry, I didn’t find a florist open, though. 

He looked at you in shock and immediately engulfed you in a hug before whispering a « thank you » in your ear before getting out of the car. An hour later, you were leaning on the hood of your car, smoking a cigarette when Marshall came back. He seemed more at peace. You could tell he had cried - as people often do when they’re visiting someone’s grave - but he seemed alright nonetheless. He walked up to you and took you by surprise by kissing you. Contrary to all the kisses you’d shared until now, this one wasn’t greedy, hungry or passionate. It was tender and soft. Intimate and emotional. 

A-Are you alright ? You asked. 

Yeah, he hummed. Thank you for taking me. 

You’re welcome, you said with a smile. 

Ready to go ? He asked. 

Almost, you said as you pointed to your cigarette - knowing full well the hatred he had of your smoking habit. 

The drive home was a bit weird. You had kissed before but this felt different. You had always enjoyed his kisses but this one was, by far, your favorite. You felt a little guilty for enjoying it so much. If you were honest with yourself, it was a little scary, too. The only reason you had managed not to catch feelings for Marshall was because he was usually guarded and there were a lot of boundaries. But after today, after seeing him this open and vulnerable, you weren’t too sure you could go back to having casual sex with him. It would be too dangerous. 

Did you know Proof’s family would be there ? He asked as you parked in front of his place. 

Were they ? You asked in surprise. No, I didn’t. 

The cemetery must have called them, then, he shrugged. 

I’m sorry, you said. I insisted that you have your privacy… 

It’s fine, he said. I talked to Sharonda. Nasaan was here too. 

How did it go ? 

Pretty well, he said. I’m seeing them later this week. Over dinner. 

That’s great, you replied with a smile. I’m happy for you. 

Thank you Y/N, he said emotionally. For everything you always do for me. I mean, I wouldn’t be able to get through life without you. You put up with me, you make life bearable… And… Thank you for today, especially. 

You’re welcome, you said with a small smile. 

He cupped your face and kissed you again. You leaned into the kiss more than you should. A part of you knew that you should push him away… But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after he had such a hard day. So you kissed him back and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue caressing yours, of his fingers in your hair. 

Now, you should go and get some rest, you said softly. 

Are you coming ? He asked as he stroked your cheek. 

Do you need me ? 

Y/N… I always need you. 

And just like that… You knew you were screwed. You felt an army of butterflies in your stomach and your brain was nowhere to be found. It had left the chat as soon as you heard Marshall’s soft voice say he needed you. You were unable to think so your emotions took over as you exited the car and got inside the house, his hand in yours. 

[andreafmn]

Speak | Chapter 11

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: emotional abuse, foul language, bodily harm

Summary: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

A/N: wanted to make this chapter longer, but I'm leaving the comfort/fluff for the next chapter. Now, onto the only story y'all care about 😉😉(jk jk)

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It had been a whole week of romantic bliss. At least in (Y/N)’s opinion. Something had finally clicked inside Jacob. Somehow, he’d finally understood what it meant to be a boyfriend. A surprising turn of events in his behavior from the past two weeks.

Jake had been the kind and caring boy she had fallen for many years before. He’d taken her out on a couple of spontaneous dates, he’d filled her with loving words, and not once did he make her question if they were meant to be together.

One. Whole. Week.

And she hoped it would last. (Y/N) hoped it would remain that way for as long as it could. Even with all the secrets between them. Sure, she had to wait until the late hours of the day to talk to Paul. Spending hours on the phone as she had done with Jake in the beginning, learning the smallest intricacies of his personality. Everything that made him him.

(Y/N) couldn’t stop the giddiness that filled her veins every time the phone rang. There was a pull to the boy that she did not understand. Something mystical that tugged at her heartstrings and sang the song of Paul Lahote. But she was too scared to answer that call, to listen to the chords that made up his name. How could her heart call to someone she hardly knew? How could she want someone else when she had spent so many years beating for another? 

There was a complexity to her feelings that she could not decipher. Her head told her it was delusion. That she had only begun to gravitate toward Paul when Jake and she had hit their first obstacle. And although that obstacle had yet to be removed –Bella was always a lingering presence in everyone’s life—(Y/N) was seeing a way through it. Paul had been kind and comforting in a time when –even if she could not admit it—she was scared of Jake, petrified by his anger. The girl simply couldn’t bring herself to believe it could be anything more than that. She simply wouldn’t.

Jacob Black was it for her, she could almost bet her life on it.

Well, only for the time things were good. ‘

But (Y/N) seemed to forget from her time in Forks that things never remained the same for too long. Laughter died, the sun stopped shining, and Jacob’s painted-on mask could shatter in a split second.

School had started in the rez as well as in Forks. Teenagers spilled into the halls of the high school, mutterings about their winter vacations muddling into each other. It made (Y/N)’s heart beat faster to be around other students once more. Two years had passed since she had been inside a physical school and she had grown accustomed to her mother and a slow computer to be her teachers. She felt odd and out of place and wondered how Bella had felt walking through these very walls only a year prior to her. And she could have asked her. Her older sister was walking right beside her and she could have asked her if the staring ever died down, or if feeling nervous was normal.

Alas, Bella would not have answered, and (Y/N) was resigned to keeping those questions buried deep within her. Her sister was out of her room and in the school, and that was all she could ask for. The zombie-like girl guided her to the office, where she was met with a red-haired woman with a bright smile.

“Well, it seems the Swan duo is finally complete,” she said. Her glasses slid off her nose slightly as she looked at (Y/N) through the top of the spectacles. “I’ve got your schedule right here. And though I’m sure Bella will show you around, I’ve added a map of the school as well with the best routes to get to your classes.”

“Uh, thanks,” (Y/N) forced a smile as she felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment. She expected to be known in the school, but she never thought that it would feel so invasive. “This is very helpful.”

“Of course, (Y/N),” she smiled. “Can’t believe just last year I was giving your sister a similar folder.”

“Yeah, time sure does fly.”

During the whole encounter, Bella remained stoic and quiet. Her ever-present sorrow hung over both of them like the darkest clouds that frequently adorned the Washington sky. The older Swan was there, but it would have been the same as though she was not there. The plant in the corner of the office held more life than her sister currently did.

And that was how the rest of the day went. (Y/N)’s hours passed and it felt like she was the only Swan in that school. Long gone was the novelty of Isabella, instead replaced by the freshness of her little sister. Everywhere she walked, eyes followed her. There was nowhere she could go that others wouldn’t question her regarding her life in Arizona and Florida before transitioning the conversation into Bella’s heartbreak condition. Even during lunchtime, when her older sister was sitting right next to her, her friends asked (Y/N) how she was doing.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what she should have expected when she had gotten to school. But she definitely did not enjoy having to be her sister’s spokesperson. A small part of her wanted her to be the real center of attention, not just the vessel of information regarding Bella. If someone had asked her she would have said that the only reason she had been accepted at the high school was to make sure her sister didn’t fall apart during one of her classes.

Though she did meet new people as the week went by, it felt just like it had when they had been growing up. (Y/N) was not her separate entity; she was just Bella’s little sister. And she feared that’s all she would ever be. It made her feel shallow and a bit vain to want everyone’s attention, to hope that others gravitated toward her because of who she was rather than who she was related to.

Back home, it was no different. As the Swan sisters walked into the house, Charlie was quick to ask how the day went. But his eyes were trained on his oldest daughter. Especially as the girl disappeared into her room, closing her door behind her.

“Did anything happen at school, (Y/N)?” Charlie worried. “How did she do today?” 

“Well, nothing’s really different,” she sighed. “I only saw her during lunch and she was just quiet. She picked around her food, only eating a couple of bites before the bell rang. Other than that, I don’t know much.” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” her father responded as he slumped on the armchair. “She’s been that way since September. I’m just glad you’re there now to look out for her. I don’t know what we’re gonna do, (Y/N).” 

“I don’t know, dad. Whatever Bella is going through is bigger than just heartbreak. And I think only she can dig herself out of this hole. We just gotta be here whenever she decides to,” (Y/N) shrugged before she followed the same path Bella had taken only a minute before. “Oh, and school was great for me. Thanks for asking. Again” 

The door slammed lower than she intended behind her, but she didn’t care. Her entire day had already revolved around Bella. Like she was the gravitational pull in Forks. Forget the sun. No, this small town revolved around the one and only Isabella Swan. There was nowhere she could go where the shadow of her sister didn’t tower over her.

She changed clothes before burying herself under her covers, searching her phone for the only person that did not seem to care who her sister was. The only person that had not made her think that they were using her to get to Bella. She knew his voice would be able to calm her anger and assuage her disappointment.

But before her finger could hit the call button a knock resounded through her room, followed by her father’s figure entering her room. “Hey, kiddo,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize for that. I know it may seem like I’m only focused on Bells, but I know I don’t have to worry about you. Your sister on the other hand…”

“I know, dad. She’s been chosen by the gods of sorrows and they don’t want to let her go.” 

“Don’t be melodramatic, (Y/N),” he chuckled. “But I wanna make sure you know that I care about you just as much as I care about your sister, and I’m here for whatever you need, whenever you need.”

“I know,” she smiled, swallowing down the tears that were threatening to spill. Her father may not have noticed, but he did not pay them the same attention. Not even their mother had. And it pained (Y/N) to admit that she had grown too used to it. “It’s okay, dad. I know you’re worried about her and so am I.”

“I’m sure, kiddo,” he smiled, sighing in relief. “Well, I wanted to let you know that I’m off tonight on shift.”

“Okay. See you in the morning then.”

“Yeah, and Jake’s downstairs waiting for you.” (Y/N) perked up at his name. It didn’t surprise her anymore when he dropped by unannounced. He had been doing it the remnant of his winter break and he had promised it wouldn’t change after school started. “Now, I trust you guys, but no boys in the room, (Y/N). Keep it to the living room and the kitchen, alright?”

“Of course, dad,” she chuckled, following him out of her room and down the stairs. “Stay safe out there.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffed jokingly. “I take you’ll behave yourself, Jacob. That’s my daughter we’re talking about here.”

“I will, Charlie,” Jake smiled. “I promise there won’t be any funny business going on.”

“You better,” Charlie scowled. “See you in the morning, (Y/N). Bye, Jacob.”

“Bye, Charlie,” he chuckled.

She leaned into the side hug her father gave her, smiling as he kissed the top of her head. “Bye, dad.”

The front door closed behind him and (Y/N) remained by the front window until the cruiser disappeared from the driveway and down the road. Once the car was nowhere in sight, she turned to her boyfriend, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. She closed the distance between her and Jake, looking to wrap him in a hug.

But Jacob stopped her, pushing her arms back onto her sides, his warm smile replaced with a stoic scowl. “I’m not staying long, (Y/N),” he muttered. “There’s just something we need to talk about.”

“What’s wrong, Jake?” she worried. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I know you haven’t been honest with me, (Y/N).”

“W-what? What are you talking about?”

“I know that you’re still talking to Paul,” he answered. His face was unreadable but his words were seeped in disappointment. “And don’t deny it. Embry let it slip out accidentally. It seems your best friend decided to recruit mine into whatever gang he’s in with Sam Uley.”

“Come on, Jake. How would Jared know any of that?” (Y/N) stammered, an awkward smile playing on her face. “There’s nothing there to let slip.”

“Right, so, Embry just so happened to start avoiding me and Quil in school. He cut his hair, he got that dumb tattoo they all have, and he’s always with them when he’s not in school. And, it’s funny, today when we confronted him about it, he simply said that they were helping him with something he couldn’t talk about,” Jake seethed. “But the cherry on top was when, for some reason, he told me that it would be best if I just let you and Paul be friends. Which came as a surprise to me since there isn’t supposed to be a friendship there. Not for the past two weeks, (Y/N).”

Her heart beat loudly in her chest, her breath hitching in her throat as Jake revealed that he was sure that she had broken her promise to him. She had never planned to keep that promise, but at that moment she was regretting it. “Tell me what to do to fix this, Jake,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. I’ll even delete his contact from my phone right now.”

“No,” he stated simply. “If you want to help, tell your buddy Paul to let whatever he and his little group have on Embry go. Maybe then I’ll consider forgiving you for lying to me for two weeks. For now, I think it’d be best if we took a little break.”

He turned her back to her, making his way to the door. He made it to the driver’s side of his car before (Y/N) caught up to him, trying her best to not slip on the ice-covered pavement.

“Jake, please,” she cried, holding onto his forearm, trying her best to turn him to face her. “I promise there is nothing going on between us. All we did was talk. I’ll never call him again, Jake. Just please, don’t leave like this.”

“I don’t care anymore if you talk to him, (Y/N). You can talk with all of Forks for all I care,” he spat. “I just want my best friend back and safe from those assholes. Get Embry back and then we can talk. It’s as simple as that.”

“I have no control over that, Jake. You know that,” she sobbed. Her hands kept tugging at his arm, trying with all of her might to turn him around. To be able to look into the brown of his eyes and show him that she was telling the truth. But he would not budge. His body remained frozen in place. His gaze fixed on the car door. “Please. I’ll do anything else. Anything you want!”

At that last tug, Jacob finally moved, pulling his arm toward his body. The bruteness and the swiftness of his motion made (Y/N) slip and fall back, her hands flying behind her to catch her fall. Her palms burned as they made contact with the rough cement and her backside ached in searing pain.

Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, falling down her cheeks and making her skin freeze in the weather. She knew it had been an accident –it had to be. But instead of running to her aid, Jake got into his car with a scoff. “Ask Paul to let Embry go,” he said as he backed out of the driveway. “If not, don’t even bother calling me your boyfriend anymore.”

And then he left. He simply left. She looked down at her hands, covered in scuff marks and trails of blood. Her body was shaking from the cold but her shock petrified her more. Jake had –unintentionally—hurt her and he had left.

(Y/N) didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t call her sister. Bella would probably just stare at her as she took care of herself. She couldn’t call her dad and let him know what Jake had done. Maybe he wouldn’t have even thought that it was such a bad thing. There was only one person that she knew she could call. The only person that despite everything that had happened could bring her comfort.

Her hands screamed at her as they dug into the pocket of her pants to dig out her phone. She stared as the grey sweats she wore darkened with drops of blood. Her wrists ached and her palms stung, and all she wanted was someone to hold her.

“Paul,” her voice croaked through her phone as soon as the ringing stopped. “Can you come over, please?”

“I’ll be there soon,” was all he said.

Next ->

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[starstruckunknown-princess]

Belladonna - Leto Atreides x F!Reader

Belladonna (Atropa belladonna) - Meaning: Silence, betrayal

Summary: Duke Leto's new wife has been neglected. When the Duke finds her under his Swordmaster, he summons her to his office for a talk but it ends up not being what she expected.

Pairing: Leto Atreides x F!Reader, (past fling) Duncan Idaho x F!Reader

Word Count: 918

Warnings: Slight Hurt/Comfort, fluff, Discussion of marital neglect/politically arranged marriage that leads to infidelity, reader has female genitalia but is otherwise not described, slight language, reader tries to appear aloof, Leto is probably OOC, feelings talk, a little husband/wife flirting at the end

Day 4 my loves! This is my first Dune fic and I have only seen the 2021/2024 films and read through some of the Wiki pages so forgive me if there are horrendous inaccuracies. This takes place pre-Dune by about 10 years, so Paul is a kid and Leto is a little younger but still foxy as hell.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are SUPER appreciated! Thanks for reading <3

The thing about Caladan, you had come to learn, is that no matter where you were in the palace you could always hear the ocean. The crash of waves against the cliff below lulled you to sleep every night since your marriage to Duke Leto about two months ago. Sixty days, of which the Duke had only visited your bedchamber twice. The rest he spent, you assumed, in his chambers with Lady Jessica. 

In fact, you had barely seen him other than your weekly dinners since the wedding. The dinners were silent affairs, you on one end of the long formal dining table and the Duke on the other. Conversation extended no further than pleasantries. You didn’t mind too much — a political marriage like yours wasn’t meant to inspire affection and since the Duke had his concubine and his heir, you were only there to solidify the alliance between Caladan and your home planet, Calypso-9. 

Today, you’d been summoned to his office to discuss yesterday’s incident. 

The incident in which he’d found you underneath his Swordmaster Duncan Idaho in the training room. Half-naked. Writhing and crying in pleasure while Duncan pummeled your cervix with his impressive cock. It had been months since you’d been intimate with someone, and during your self-defense training Duncan’s touches while he corrected your form along with the smell of his sweat and endorphins from the exercise had proven to be too much. You’d given in to your baser instincts, and fuck, did it feel good.

Leto hadn’t said anything, only caught your attention with a loud clear of his throat. When he saw your and Duncan’s eyes on him, all he did was about-face and walk out of the room. 

He maintained the same stoic expression now. His dark eyes bore into yours as he stroked his beard. You had noticed how large his hands were during your wedding ceremony, and you remembered how they felt on you while he dispassionately consummated your union that night. All you could hear were the waves crashing. 

“I think we’re both aware of why I called you here,” he finally said, breaking the silence. 

“You found me fucking Duncan. I apologize if you were offended, my Lord, but I’m not sure why you called me here. Were you offended? Jealous?” You honestly didn’t know why he would want to hash this out between you unless he was going to scold you for being so indiscreet, which you supposed was deserved. 

“What if I was?” He asked, gaze softening before he continued without waiting for your answer, “Even though you and I both know I have no right to be. Our marriage is simply a political arrangement and I have Jessica and Paul while you left your homeworld to come here and be ignored by the husband you never wanted in the first place.” 

Gobsmacked. That was the only way you could describe yourself as you picked your jaw up off the floor. To say you hadn’t expected candor of this level was an understatement.

“I…Apologies, my Lord, but-” 

“Leto.”

“Pardon?”

“You are my wife, there’s no need for formalities. Call me Leto.”

You held back a scoff, turning it into a light sigh instead. “Since this is the second longest conversation we’ve ever had, you’ll forgive my hesitation with familiarities, but alright. Leto,” he nodded gratefully, so you continued, “I don’t fully understand your meaning.” 

“What I mean is I am angry about what I saw yesterday but not for the reasons you may think. I’m not upset with you because I understand that I am what drove you into the arms of my Swordmaster. I am angry with myself for neglecting you so cruelly since our wedding and I promise to do better by you. Perhaps not to Duncan’s extent, but-” 

You burst out laughing, which caused his brows to knit together in confusion. His large hands folded in front of him on his desk as you tried to get yourself under control. 

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you said, waving a hand in front of you, “I don’t mean to be laughing, I swear, but…is that all it would’ve taken to get your attention?” 

“Well, no, but-” 

“To think all I had to do was fuck someone else…I would’ve gotten your attention weeks ago.” 

“You’ve…been wanting my attention?”

This time you let your scoff out, “Of course! When my father told me he’d found me a husband I expected some old, ugly lord with at least two dead wives and no heirs. You cannot imagine the relief I felt when we met and you were none of those things.” 

“I’m not not old,” he chuckled, ducking his head.  

“Oh, pish, you’re barely forty, and don’t look it.” 

He looked up at you from under his regal brow and you felt butterflies stirring in your chest. “And you are one of the most beautiful women who has ever stepped foot on Caladan.” 

You couldn’t help the blush that rose in your cheeks, “Are you flirting with me, Leto?” 

“Perhaps. You are my wife after all,” he smirked, standing from behind his desk and coming around it, offering his arm to you. “Would you like to walk with me? A proper tour of the grounds?” 

You accepted, resting your hand in the crook of his arm and subtly stroking his inner forearm. “And maybe we can stop in the training room?” 

His smirk widened into a smile and you were enchanted at the sight. “Whatever my wife desires.” 

[crazyk-imagine]

Flickering Lights and Butterflies

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Enhanced!reader

Characters: Enhanced!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jacob Black, Seth Clearwater, Embry Call, Quil Atera V, Jared Cameron, Brady Fuller, Collin Littlesea, Reader's sister (briefly mentioned), Unnamed Aunt (briefly mentioned)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Paul being a butt, pack loves reader, I'm making it canon (for myself) that Quil is the shortest one of all, the guys tease the youngest members a lot, Emily is my iconic queen, I love writing for them, the pack is a wholesome and chaotic crew, this would have been so long so I broke it into two parts, I like adding Brady and Collin because they're my fun extras, my babies are causing themselves issues, literally don't know how involved I got with this, Sam knows when to listen to his luna

Word Count: 2,040

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You close your eyes and throw an arm over your head, covering the upper half of your face.

You can feel the energy from the person sitting beside you but don't move.

The crunching of the grass raising the hairs on your arms causing you to inadvertently shiver from the goosebumps.

"Are you ever going to come back inside?"

"Why should I?"

"First off, I don't want you to get a cold."

You sigh, "Emily-"

"I'm not pressuring you to come back inside but I don't want you to be cold. I don't want to lose another girl to hang out with because she was stubborn."

You scoff through your nose, lips twitching as you fight to keep your emotions in control. You push yourself up and stare up into the sky, blowing out a breath, seeing it disappear into the wind.

God it's cold.

"See, it's cold enough for you to see your breath which means it's time to come inside."

You smile at her concern, something you haven't heard in a while. "I'll be right behind you."

The knot in your shoulder tightens and the burning, tingling sensation is back. "I don't want to talk to him."

He huffs, "I'm not the bad guy here."

"You don't sound like the good guy either."

"Says you."

You push yourself off the ground and rush past him.

He grabs your arm, pulling you back.

You gasp in fear, grabbing at his hand; worried for his safety. "Get off me."

"Not until we talk."

"I don't want to talk. Let go of me." You avoid staring into his eyes.

"Give me five minutes. It's not going to hurt you."

"Let go of me."

"Look me in the eye and I will."

You shove him away and run inside. You lock yourself in the guest bathroom.

Emily runs in, glancing around in search of you. "Bathroom," she mutters.

The others enter, seeing their luna knocking on the door.

They turn to Paul who glares at the door with his arms crossed.

"What happened?" Embry asks.

"Little miss stains ran off into the bathroom."

They can see the play back in their minds and wonder what happened.

-

You hold your head in your hands, pleading to freak out. "No, no, no."

You raise your head, staring at the ceiling. "Please don't."

You can hear her pleading and assume the others are talking about you in a bad way.

You hyperventilate, unsure of how to calm down.

You hold your breath and rub your chest, mentally telling yourself you're okay and need to calm down.

The lights pop.

You don't want to go out.

-

"Sweetie. I need you to open the door. I need to see that you're okay."

Sam steps towards his fiancée. "What's happening?"

She places a hand on his arm. "Sam as much as I love you, I need you and the boys to stay in the kitchen."

He wants to ask more but can see by the look on her face, he won't get any. He nods and steps away.

She sits beside the door, "they're in the kitchen. I told them to go away."

"Emily," you whine, embarrassed.

"It's okay. If you come out, then we can take care of this."

You unlock the door after a few moments. "I am so sorry."

"I know," she opens her arms to hug you.

You immediately throw yourself into her grasp.

Paul catches slight movement from the corner of his eyes and smells the saltiness of your tears, furrowing his brows.

You two make your way back into the kitchen.

You glance at them from the corner of your eye, sensing the concern of Sam about his fiancé.

You lower your head.

Emily breaks away from Sam, mouthing that she's got this.

She places a gentle hand on your shoulders. "Do you want to go home?"

You raise your head and stare at her with a wobbly lip, tears trailing past your waterline.

She offers a gentle smile. "I'll stay with you tonight. I won't leave you alone."

"You promise?" Your voice cracks, breaking everyone's heart, namely Paul's.

She gives you an affirmative nod. "I promise. Have you ever known me to break a promise?"

You can't hold back the choking sob that escapes when you laugh.

She wraps an arm around you and pulls you out with her, heading into her old truck.

He follows behind.

As soon as you settle into the passenger seat, he tries to make his way to you. "Can I-"

She shakes her head. "Not now, Paul. She's- today's not good, okay?"

"What's wrong with her?"

She shakes her head, "I know that's not what you mean but I can't answer that because we need to go."

His eyes follow the truck as she backs out.

You look up and catch his gaze, his shoulders sag at the sight of your broken-down face.

-

You wake up and stare at the ceiling with the moonlight lighting the living room.

Emily lays asleep on the longer end of the couch, curled into the blanket since tonight's colder than it has been all week.

You push yourself up and think about everything that happened earlier in the day. You don't know whether you wish it didn't happen or if it happened sooner.

You wander into the kitchen and get yourself a glass of water.

After drinking as much as you can, you glance out the window and stare into the forest, always finding it peaceful since you were a kid... back when you two were friends.

You sigh, remembering how embarrassed you were, it was stupid but then your parents got into an accident and your sister was taken to live with your aunt in California while you were left in the care of Emily because she was your godmother and wanted nothing more than to keep you in Folks.

She tried all she could to keep you two together, but your mom's sister fought harder for your sister.

You know Paul probably doesn't even know why you were so upset or what happened since a proper funeral didn't take place, you don't even know if he knows.

You blink and you’re back to reality, no longer stuck in memory lane and find a wolf near your house.

It's him, you know it.

There's no other reason a wolf would be nearby at this time of night, intensely staring at your house or you.

You turn away, unsure of what to do about everything that's happened.

You step back into the living room, checking on Emily, smiling when you see she's still asleep.

You wipe the stray tear that trickles down your cheek, thinking back to when you and your sister would stay in the living room for your sister hangouts.

A shadow moving near the door alarms you, causing you to turn and investigate.

You jump, placing a hand over your heart, wanting to curse him out.

You carefully unlock the door and step outside, making sure to grab your key beforehand, in case you get locked out.

The last thing you need is Paul to try and get you back inside and/or scare the daylight out of Emily because of him.

You sigh, crossing your arms. "What do you want?"

His eyes are drawn down towards your chest at your movements before trailing back to your annoyed expression, something he finds himself falling more and more for.

"If you’re just going to oogle me like a piece of meat, I'm going back inside."

His hands grab your wrist, stopping you before you can step closer to the door. "No- I- I didn't come here for that."

"What did you come for?" You snatch your wrist back from him.

The porch light buzzes, you pray this doesn't take long.

"I wanted to talk."

"Then talk."

"Could we skip the attitude?"

"The only one here with the attitude is you."

"Says the one who keeps running when I open my mouth."

"It was a bad idea coming out here to talk to you, just go, Paul."

He sighs.

The light pops, breaking above you.

You flinch, raising your arm to cover your face and slowly dropping it so the pieces of light don't cut your skin.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you away from the mess. "Hey, hey," he cups your cheeks. "Are you okay?"

You avoid making eye contact with him.

"Stop fighting me and look at me."

You turn your head and find his concerned expression to be the most breathtaking thing you've ever seen.

His eyes are drawn the red line across your cheek. "Your-"

Emily opens the door, staring at the two of you and looks to the side, finding the mess. "You two get inside so I-"

Paul shakes his head, "I'll do it. You take care of her."

-

"You need to tell him."

"I don't have to tell him."

"He's your best friend."

"Was my friend but then he started growing up and became a butthead."

"Boys who like someone are mean to them because they have the emotional capacity of a stick."

You owlishly blink, listening to the phrase she said. "Yeah, I know. He's prime example number one."

"Not all relationships are perfect."

"That's true and we're not in one."

"Maybe he can help you?"

"With what?"

"Your issue."

You shake your head, "no. He's not helping me."

"He's the only one who doesn't know."

"The other guys don't know."

"I think out of all the boys, other than Sam, Quil might know what happened, other than that they don't."

"And I don't know them."

She sighs, "is this really the attitude you're going to have towards the one the universe decided was yours?"

You pretend to think about it for a second. "Yep."

-

You step out of the hall, watching him try and remember where to put the broom. "Give it." You put it back in its place. "Thanks."

"It was no big deal. I didn't want you to get hurt."

You roll your eyes. "That."

"What?"

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Why do you think?"

The question holds no attitude even though the phrase seems like it.

"I don't know because you won't talk about it."

"Do you- nevermind."

"No, tell me."

"I don't want to do this right now, Paul. Please, go home."

"No," he stands his ground, tired of you pushing him away. "What happened with us because one second we're friends and the next we're not."

"Did you ever think maybe you acting like a dick was reason enough?"

"You're blaming me?" His shoulders tense up.

Emily notices and eyes him from the couch.

"I didn't make fun of my friend and get the other kids to join in on the tormenting, you did that easily enough."

"I didn't mean to. I told you-"

"That was not joking around, and you blatantly made fun of me."

"I- I didn't know any better. I was a kid."

"Just because you were a kid, doesn't mean you didn't have a brain, you just had to use it. You know those kids are ruthless and mean then you joined in with them."

"I didn't think they were close to me."

"They hated me."

"Everyone hated everyone, girls were gross then."

You scoff, looking away to hide the fact that that day was the beginning of the end for you as you tear up. "I don't want to talk to you anymore," you tell him wiping your cheek.

"Why are you crying?"

"Do you even know how long that stupid nickname has stuck around, even now because you still use it?"

"It's cute."

"It's annoying. I don't like it and you still bully me."

"It's not bullying if it's endearing."

"Try the opposite."

"Okay," he sighs, "I'll stop using it."

"I'm happy the two of you are acting like your friends again but it's almost two in the morning and I'm tired."

"I'm off patrol and it's raining."

"Convenient," you mumble.

He smiles, staring at you as you plop beside Emily. "The lights are still working."

"I noticed." She places her hand on the back of your head and mindlessly pats your head.

You fight to keep your eyes open, listening to the two talking while you're becoming more and more relaxed.

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Continue to: Part II

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