#so you need to go on the interstate to drive there. and i can drive in general but i've never driven on the interstate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loaksky · 1 year ago

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i don’t celebrate thanksgiving, but could you guys imagine college!ellie taking roommate!reader home to jackson because she’d be alone for the holiday? short lil oneshot to get back into the groove of writing. do i hate this? yes.

recommended songs: alabama haint — penny and sparrow + what once was — her’s

warnings: language, a few brief mentions of family issues, suggestive content (kissing among other things) + mild sexual content, a lil misunderstanding and angst bc who am i if i don’t ??, CONFESSIONS because i’m a sloot for them. i think that’s it? not proofread ofc heh

it’s the weekend before thanksgiving, sunday to be exact, and ellie’s packing her backpack for joel’s. the energy in the the room’s a little off despite the fact that you’re normally reserved, and even though the two of you have only met this year, ellie’s learned to read you pretty well.

“you goin’ home for thanksgiving?” ellie asks absently, trying to make small talk as she rolls a sleep shirt and some pajamas haphazardly to stuff at the top of her bag.

there’s a pause that makes her brain itch before she sees the way you shake your head from where you’re hunched over a textbook at your desk.

“my family’s all over the place right now,” you answer honestly.

and ellie doesn’t know if you mean that figuratively or literally, but the lack of emotion in your voice tells her that maybe she shouldn’t pry. she can’t help it, though. because you’re her sweet and quiet roommate who’d been serious (and maybe a little scary) at first, but turned out to be a goofball with a little bit of prodding.

so seeing you like this, checked out and maybe a little stressed, ellie treads cautiously.

“so you’re gonna stay here?” she asks.

you don’t even spare her a glance.

“yeah.” your shoulders shrug. “no point in dropping so much money for a plane ticket if i’m going to be sitting home alone anyways.”

ellie makes a noise in the back of her throat and you throw look over your shoulder.

“sorry,” you offer softly, smile sheepish. “that was a little depressing.”

ellie shakes her head.

“no, i get it,” she assures you. “my family’s not really...”

you blink at her as she trails off.

“conventional? i guess?”

another quiet blankets the two of you and ellie’s speaking before she can even filter through the repercussions of her next words.

“you’re always welcome to...y’know...come with,” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “it’s not even a two hour drive.”

you hope ellie can’t tell that your cheeks are burning.

“you don’t have to, of course,” ellie blabbers. “but joel’s cool, so’s my uncle and his wife. it’d be nice, i think. and jackson’s pretty fun around this time of year...”

“i don’t wanna imp—”

ellie breathes a laugh.

“don’t,” she warns you, tips of her ears burning. “you’re more than welcome, seriously.”

it’s how you end up in the passenger seat of ellie’s old 4runner, heater on blast while sublime plays on the radio.

the car ride had consisted of ellie munching on cold fries the two of you had picked up from mcdonald’s before the interstate and you finally opening up about how your parents are divorced and how the holidays are a lot more stressful than they are pleasant.

ellie really feels for you, definitely knows the feeling losing her mom at a pretty young age and being adopted in middle school by a single, bereaved father. she tells you that they’d found each other when they needed the other the most.

and you don’t particularly know why you’re so nervous when ellie finally takes the exit off the interstate and you guys make your way through the suburbs. perhaps it’s the domesticity of meeting her family, or that you’re over a hundred miles away from familiarity, but your fingers are trembling when she turns into the neighbourhood and cozy brick homes line the frost-laden streets.

she’s pulling up and parking on the curb in front of a warm two-story that has a blue pickup truck and a gold SUV in the driveway when she notices.

“hey, hey,” she whispers, noticing the way you’re wringing your hands to stop the shaking. “you okay?”

her hands are warm when they close over yours and her thumbs is brushing over your skin soothingly.

“i’m being dumb,” you admit.

ellie’s eyes are crystal clear under the setting sun.

“don’t say that,” she says softly. “you wanna take a second?”

you swallow and shake your head.

“no, we can go,” you assure her.

she’s searching your face for any tell, but when you offer her a soft smile, she’s leaning back in her seat and nodding. before she completely pulls away, you’re stopping her.

“thanks, ellie,” you say gently. “this was really kind of you.”

she flashes you an easy smile, squeezes your hand a final time before climbing out of the car and rounding the front to help you out.

and truthfully, you realize you were nervous for nothing. because when the door swings open to reveal an older man aged with smile lines and greying hair, ellie seemingly softens infinitely.

“hey, kiddo,” he greets, crushing her in a hug so tight, she’s spluttering out a laugh.

“joel, i can’t breathe,” she wheezes.

you’re standing there awkwardly, backpack slung over your shoulder when joel finally loosens his hold on ellie and glances over her head.

“who’s this?” he asks, but the smile he wears is knowing.

“________, my roommate,” she introduces quickly, cheeks warming an awful shade of red as she begs every force above that joel won’t blow her cover.

because, okay, maybe ellie’s talked about you on the phone way more times than she’d care to admit out loud. talked about how intimidating you were at first, then graduated to talking about how you were actually so cool. and maybe she’d brought up the fact that she thought you were pretty. like...super pretty. and that maybe she was crushing a teensy bit.

“nice to meet you,” joel replies simply, sparing ellie this time around.

you let go of the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding onto, offering a smile that makes ellie wonder if she’ll survive the week with you in such a new proximity.

“nice to meet you, too,” you almost whisper, relaxing as he reaches for the backpack slung over your shoulder.

“here, let me take this for you,” he says.

and it doesn’t take you long to realize where ellie gets it from. her kind spirit and fierce yet gentle heart. joel is soft-spoken, a little rough around the edges, but a warm energy that radiates through the home he’s made for himself and ellie.

it makes infinitely more sense enter tommy and maria, her uncle and aunt who tell you the silliest stories about the starry-eyed girl in her youth over dinner. who bring out her boisterous laughter when they sing old 80’s music over dishes and evening TV.

“your family’s so cool,” you say in awe, wrapped in one of her coats she’d dug out of the closet under the stairs.

you’re nursing a mug of hot chocolate that steams in the icy air of jackson on her back porch.

ellie breathes out a little laugh.

“they’re something,” she jokes, watching you over the rim of her mug.

you make her heart thud hard in her chest as she takes you in, bundled in pieces of her that make her think that she wouldn’t mind making you hers.

“i miss times like these,” you whisper.

ellie shifts closer, catching you by surprise when her thumb swipes over the curve of your top lip.

“sorry,” she hums quietly. “you had...uh...”

you let out a hollow laugh and shake your head, tell her that it’s fine as a silence blankets the two of you.

“i’m glad you like them,” ellie admits softly. “sometimes i get a little self-conscious because, y’know, everyone expects a nuclear family and...”

“i’d take this any day,” you assure her, and the true implication of your words is latent, but something hopeful pricks her tummy.

i’d take this any day...with you.

and locking eyes with you usually scares her, usually makes her queasy with nerves because there’s always something searing in your gaze, but it’s like you see each other for the first time, no barriers.

ellie’s so close she can feel the warmth of your body coiling and drawing her in. her breath’s caught in her throat as she chances a glance at your mouth and her own lips begin to tingle.

she’s on the brink of asking if she can kiss you, but the back door is sliding open and two familiar faces are surfacing.

“williams!”

ellie’s daze melts away as she shifts to put distance between the two of you at the arrival of her friends.

“jess!” she calls. “dina!”

the moment clings heavy, but ellie writes it off. maybe she’s jumping the gun, reading too much into tender moments. it’s colored on your face, though, as she stands to meet her friends halfway, that the two of you are tethered and you feel it too.

ellie’s friends are another reflection of her character. they take you under their wings in the days leading up to the holiday with jesse teaching you to ride his minibike and dina telling you stories of their childhood while excitedly painting your nails pretty shades of autumnal colors because both jesse and ellie vehemently decline.

joel graciously relinquishes his kitchen to the four of you the day before thanksgiving. lets you guys gather around and bake an array of different desserts for tomorrow’s dinner over a few beers and winecoolers.

perhaps ellie’s a lightweight, you come to find, when she’s a lot more giggly and rosy-cheeked than she’d ever let anyone see. she’s feeling a little bubbly and you definitely don’t help the fact when you gaze upon her so fondly as you smear away the streaks of flour across her cheek.

jesse and dina are merely observers, watching with knowing grins as ellie practically melts against your touch.

and as the desserts cool on the kitchen island and the two of see jesse and dina out, ellie can’t keep her hazy eyes off of you. the two of you vote on a movie and she’s taking her usual seat in the right corner of the couch. it starts out with the two of you on opposite ends, but as the film plays, the space between you and ellie diminishes and she swears you can hear the way her heart’s pounding behind her ribcage with your ear pressed to her chest.

it’s uncharted territory considering ellie’s never been big on physical touch and she can’t even be sure that there's anything there, but you have to know. ellie’d mentioned past girlfriends, wasn’t really subtle when it came to wandering eyes on campus, hell, she’d even—

suddenly your arm’s tightening around the narrow of her waist and you’re nestling impossibly closer and christ, ellie can’t help herself when the coarse pads of her fingertips brush your jaw to catch your attention.

your gaze is illuminated by pixels and there’s a hitch in your breathing as you search her features for any hesitation. it’s long gone, you find, when ellie’s mouth is slotting yours, lips warm and tongue still flavored with sparkling wine.

ellie kisses like you’re air and she needs you to breathe. it’s almost embarrassing, way her body reacts to your proximity, how hot she us under the collar and achey as you move to straddle her. her fingertips are skimming down your spine, past the small of your back to take a—

your teeth sinking in the plump of her bottom lip and the way your soft palms find purchase against the rigid expanse of her tattooed abdomen is sobering. has her bony fingers cupping the flesh of your jaw.

“wait, wait,” she whispers, chest heaving and breaths shallow as she looks up at you.

the dust is starting to settle and you take in ellie’s kiss-bitten lips, swollen and slick. her pupils are blown wide, sweater riding up to reveal reddened flesh like you’ve branded her. you lean back.

“fuck,” you whisper. “fuck, i’m so sorry.”

ellie’s mouth is drying.

“why are you sorry?” she whispers.

you seem to chew on your words, eyes teary and expression scared.

“why are you sorry?” ellie repeats, not caring enough to mask the hitch in her voice as she pries.

“you’re always so fucking good to me, ellie,” you whimper. “you’re a great roommate and an even better friend and—”

ellie blows out a deep sigh, falls slack against the cushions as she levels you with an indiscernible look in her eye.

“don’t do that,” she breathes.

“ellie.”

“c’mon, you know me better than that,” she says, tone tinged with annoyance. “you don’t have to let me down easy. you can be honest.”

and color you confused because how couldn’t she fathom that you’ve fallen and head first at that? she’s reading it all wrong, you realize, when defeat shutters over her pretty face.

“i—”

the floorboards outside the den creak and ellie’s pushing you off just as the door squeaks open to reveal joel’s aging face.

he reads the room a moment, decides to blow by the sheen in your eyes and ellie’s rigid posture.

“tommy and maria are leaving, kiddo,” he says. “if you wanna say bye.”

ellie nods, stands and leaves you in the television-illuminated room.

you realize she won’t come back for you when the telltale sound of the front door closes and the stairs seem to groan under her weight.

it’s half past two in the morning when you slip from the den, glass of water condensating on a coaster as you try to collect yourself on the screened-in deck out back.

the icy chill stings your lungs, makes you gulp in breath after breath. the night’s starting to dawn you, the gravity of the situation overwhelming you enough to choke.

“fuck,” you whisper, that familiar feeling of dread squeezing your chest.

meanwhile, ellie can’t sleep. has been staring at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom for the past two and a half hours. you’re all she can think of. pliant curves of your body settling over hers to fit like you two were made for each other, the smell of your subtle perfume, the taste of your mouth.

and she wants to be annoyed, angry at the fact, but she’d brought you all the way here, extricated you from your comfort zone and showed you parts of her she wouldn’t dream of revealing to anyone else.

she recalls the resignation in your tone on the drive up, how you’d divulged the dysfunction of your family and the troubles you carried with you as a result. it’d be your first holiday with someone other than yourself for a while and she’d be damned if it soured because she couldn’t push her feelings aside.

the tv’s off and the blanket’s folded when she musters up enough courage to enter the den again, heart sinking to her ass when she slides back into the kitchen and finds that the sliding door to the back deck is cracked ever so slightly.

she’s seen you in a lot of ways these past eleven-odd months she’s known you, but she’s never seen you like this, hands over your heart and chest heaving like you’re trying to ground yourself.

when your watery gaze swings to her, ellie’s melting, cushion sinking as she settles next to you.

“sorry,” you whisper shakily. “i don’t—”

ellie’s shifting to face you, arms winding around your shoulders as one hand comes up to cradle the back of your head.

“let’s talk about it later,” ellie offers softly. “we can just go to bed for now and—”

“i really, really like you, ellie,” you say in one breath, and it has her body locking up, the audible catch of her inhale sounding near your ear.

“but?”

“no buts,” you admit. “just that i don’t want you to think that i kissed you because you’re being nice to me. well, i guess you’re always nice to me. it’s one of the reasons why i…”

and ellie doesn’t mean to tune you out, but you’re so fucking cute and so sweet and she shouldn’t have doubted you or herself because you’re hiccuping and shivering and—

you taste better the second time around. now ellie’s a little less unsure, still a little nervous because you’re the first girl to make her feel like this and she doesn’t want the bubble she’s built around the two of you in this corner of her little world to burst, but kissing you feels so right.

she’s dragging you back inside, past the den and up the stairs, and maybe the two of you do things you shouldn’t in her twin size bed in her childhood room when her dad’s only a few walls away, but she can’t help herself. not when you’ve always been an arm’s length away and she can finally have you.

it isn’t until the two of you lay under the dim glimmer of the glow-in-the dark stars pasted to her ceiling, her face pressed in your neck, that she says it.

“i really, really like you, too,” she whispers. “i realized i didn’t say it back.”

but it’s not like she needs to. you knew that already.

neng ©️2023

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou2

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ruggiesbiologicalfather · 1 month ago

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i've been struck by inspiration

here's my ranking of twisted wonderland students by how likely i'd be to let them behind the wheel of a car. this is gonna be a long one bc i'm including explanations of course. (and i know that in-game it's rare to be able to drive, we're ignoring that and pretending it's common to drive around)

1. Leona: canonically, he can drive and drive well. i feel like this was an easy one. but it makes sense!

2. Vil: he just has so many random skills that i feel like driving would be no problem at all. honestly, there's not much that i think vil CAN'T do

3. Trey: everything about him screams Responsible Driver. he would definitely play chauffeur for heartslabyul whenever they need to go somewhere. AND he'd have snacks in the glove compartment. 10/10 ride

4. Jamil: he can absolutely drive well - near perfect i'd argue. what's the alternative? let KALIM drive? get real. it's his duty to get where he needs to go safely

5. Jack: the self-discipline that this boy possesses is unrivaled. he would be locked in behind the wheel. he spent so long becoming the best driver he can be and by god, he's gonna prove it

6. Deuce: LISTEN TO ME, LISTEN! he's really good on that blastcycle which is more dangerous and difficult (said as a former bike/atv guy). a car is nothing to him. plus he's on his Honor Student streak so he's trying his best. my only worry is speed. slow it down, friend

7. Epel: similar to deuce. farm kids learn to drive really early in their lives. HOWEVER... driving safely?? hmmmm... his biggest flaws are going too fast and whipping around curves when no one else is on the road

8. Riddle: he would definitely follow all the road rules. to the letter. every trip would take an extra 30 minutes to an hour. no music, windows up, silence. he won't even let YOU be on your phone lest he become distracted. also ROAD RAGE. interstate driving would get very scary

9. Ortho: fuck it, let the robot give it a shot

10. Azul: i feel like once he figured out the mechanics, he would be fine on the road. however, if he got pulled over he would definitely argue with the cop and get us both arrested. so... i'm gonna pass

11. Jade: yes, we're getting where we need to go. but... nefariously. and there's something in the trunk. i feel like he'd also randomly go "oops" just to freak out his passengers. "what do you mean OOPS?" "don't worry about it :)"

12. Ruggie: there's a wildness to my boy that drove his ranking down. he would definitely drive a jeep with the doors off. music blasting, wind whipping around everywhere. it would be a fairly safe drive but not a particularly enjoyable one. also i would fall out

13. Silver: i don't know, i feel like he would be chill. i put him low bc briar valley doesn't have cars so his driving education would be quite scarce and he'd be a new driver. but he could get the job done. probably

14. Sebek: similar to silver but he needs to relax. malleus is fine, we're just going to walmart

15. Ace: he just gives off the vibe of "16-year-old kid in the car his dad bought for him." never lets anyone merge, hits curbs, can never figure out the speed limit, etc, etc. even worse if deuce is in the car! "ace, watch out for the mailbox!" "don't tell me what to- *BANG*"

16. Cater: gay people can't drive

17. Rook: distracted driver. god forbid there's wildlife around, he would turn 180 in his seat to look at it. this Oh Shit Handle is getting some use. also i KNOW his car would be shit. i don't care that his family is rich, he's driving a 2003 hyundai sonata

18. Floyd: LISTEN! there's a 50/50 shot that everything goes perfectly fine. like as long as he's in a good mood, he can get the job done. you definitely just have to check in before you buckle up. get ready to tuck and roll

19. Malleus: what is a car?

20. Idia: there's so much anxiety there i feel like one thing would go slightly left and he'd almost pass out. he's white-knuckling the wheel, praying that no one else is on the road. it's alright buddy, you can be a passenger princess

21. Kalim: No.

22. Grim + Yuu: okay, for this one it's a joint effort. yuu at the wheel and grim on the pedals. there's so much chaos and screaming. four-way stops don't exist. yellow lights are green and red lights are yellow. the horn has not stopped honking since the engine started. this is an emergency situation ONLY. like someone is bleeding out in the backseat and no one is answering their phones

23. Lilia: absolutely not. i will walk

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst heartslabyul #twst savanaclaw #twst octavinelle #twst scarabia #twst pomfiore #twst ignihyde #twst diasomnia

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jnnul · 7 months ago

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peaches

sum.: when you pie your [really-hot] neighbor in the face on accident, you never imagine that you’re gonna have to be wheeling him to the hospital because who the fuck is allergic to peaches? yang jungwon, apparently. but you come to learn that yang jungwon is so much more than his unfortunate allergy to peaches and his pretty face and you’re stuck wondering if falling in love with someone you can’t have is worth it.

word count: 2.9k

tags: this one’s sad bois, bullet fic, like ngl, when i was planning this one, i teared up a little bit, sorry in advance tw: major character death, terminal illness, just...not meant for the weak-hearted

a/n: literally all i can say i’m sorry :( can’t believe my first fic for jungwon is this sad nonsense i conjured up literally last year

you didn’t mean to pie your extremely attractive neighbor in the face

and you definitely didn’t mean to have to take him to the hospital because apparently, your hot neighbor was allergic to peaches

who’s fucking allergic to peaches?

yang jungwon, apparently

you didn’t even know what he looked like until you had to drive him to the hospital in your stupid beat up toyota bc his face was bright red and splotchy

and he kept itching it

which then meant that you had to swat at his hand every so often

it was not the first impression you wanted to make on such a pretty man

you vividly remember sitting in the waiting room, knee bouncing in fear that you may have accidentally killed the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life

or that you would have to pay his hospital bills for the rest of his life

fuck american healthcare (and the collegiate system)

only to find out that he was absolutely fine. in fact. he knew the doctor there. not only did he know the doctor. he worked for the doctor.

he had insurance.

you had been betrayed.

not really. you didn’t exactly give him a chance to tell you that you didn’t need to take out a debt creating loan to pay his hospital bills

you were too busy trying not to cry as you sped down the interstate in hopes that your decision to take the toyota instead of paying another $4000 for the ambulatory fee was the correct decision

it was.

so when jungwon walks out with an itemized bill and a sheepish, almost silly smile, you nearly fall to your knees in gratitude in the middle of the waiting room

you’re pretty sure that some of those people are convinced jungwon beat cancer bc of the relief on your face when you see the 0 next to copay on the bill

you could kiss jungwon but his face still looks a little too splotchy to be doing that

and you tell him as much but he just laughs, shaking his head a little bit

“so you’re saying you would kiss me if i didn’t look so splotchy?”

“i’m saying i’m going to kiss your insurance provider and i’m switching mine to yours today.”

anyway

after nearly losing your hot neighbor to justin bieber’s hit song, you finally start getting closer to him

it turns out that you had meant to pie yours and jungwon’s mututal friend and down the hall neighbor, jake sim, from whom he was renting out the apartment for the summer

but jake had the reflexes of a fucking ninja and had ducked and jungwon had the privilege of being pied instead

you had knocked on jake’s door and as soon as someone opened the door, you pied them with no thoughts and no turnback

jungwon had opened the door though, and the rest was history

you guys had a very neighborly relationship

jungwon would come home after a long day of summer classes, internships, and work and you cook jungwon (peach-less) baked goods that he could die for

and when you would complain abt your broke ass, he would buy enough groceries for the two of you and you would go to his place or he would come to yours

the stubborn struggling artist in you always protested

“i can’t let you buy this for me! groceries are so expensive nowadays!”

“if it makes you feel better, these aren’t organic. in fact that avocado looks like it’s on life support.”

“...”

but you also end up coming over to his place whenever he has a quick repair or smth bc the landlord doesn’t know a screw from a lightbulb

so he insists that it all cancels out in the end

but you hates taking jungwon’s help (or any help in general you stubborn ass)

so you got onto the summer job hunt grind

but it was pretty late, almost the middle of june, and not many places were hiring

thankfully, jake sim was loaded

and he was going to europe for the rest of the summer

randomly

bc apparently that’s what rich people do

so you were able to take his role temporarily at the local dance studio that jake taught at

not that jake needed the money

but he said smth about “passing on the passion” and “encouraging the next generation of dancers”

you kinda stopped listening once you saw pics of him in leotards that left nothing to the imagination

scrubbing the mental image from your mind was hard enough

you weren’t the best ballet dancer, but you had danced for 10 years in contemporary before a foot injury knocked you out of dancing for good

so you definitely had the experience (and a semi-healed foot) that you needed

and besides! as an education major, you needed experience with working with students anyway

or at least that’s what you tell yourself

because you forget how terrifying little human beings are until you step into the studio

and every single one of them is wearing some lululemon or aritzia variation

and you’re...kinda just wearing your old tights and a loose shirt

not in a quirky “i’m not like other dancers” type of way

a more humble “i can’t afford luxury brands” type of way

no shame in the college grind game

but other than the fact that you felt like you were on an episode of dance moms every day, the classes weren’t that bad

the kids were pretty polite and they generally didn’t really mind that they had a new teacher - although one of them did say that jake was really good eye candy

and that you were gorgeous but not really their type

hey. you’re gorgeous. you’re everyone’s type. in fact, they’d be lucky if you were one’s type.

but you’re also thankful bc it’d be really awkward if your prepubescent students had a crush on you...

speaking of crushes

jungwon was fucking oblivious to yours

he says shit that makes you think that he’s caught on

that he knows that you would cosplay anastasia steele for the rest of your life if it meant he went for a roll in the hay with you

or you know, took you out on a nice, romantic date

you don’t really know how it works nowadays

but every time you think you’ve been discovered, he proceeds to completely do a 180

one time, the two of you were sitting on the couch watching, aptly enough, the notebook

when jungwon leans over incriminatingly, close enough to kiss you and you’re just about to turn your head, excited that jungwon has decided to make the first move

only for him to grab the remote and turn up the volume

which, in hindsight, does nothing to confirm that jungwon feels the same way about you as you feel about him

but it doesn’t really matter

we live in a delusional world and you’re the reigning monarch so it all works in your head

but other than the fact that you were most definitely crushing on your neighbor

the two of you were basically inseparable

it was like some higher being wanted you to suffer

bc you and jungwon got along SO WELL

and he just...didn’t even connect the dots

or if he did, he didn’t say anything about the tension between you two (that you might’ve accidentally somewhat have made up)

but all in all, jungwon and you had a pretty nice summer

some days you’d go to the beach and just watch the stars while drinking beers

some days you’d go to the little kiddie theme park that the neighboring town has just because their fried ice cream was insanely good

“we’re probably going to get diabetes, three different heart conditions, and certified obesity from these things.”

“...well the universe shouldn’t have made the human body too weak for fried ice cream then.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that fried ice cream simply should just not exist?”

“never.”

that summed up pretty much your entire friendship with jungwon

but no matter how close you became with him, it still felt like he was holding himself back a little bit - although, it killed you, you understood

for starters, he’d disappear off the face of the planet for two or three days before coming back to you with the same calm yet insane energy that only jungwon could carry

on top of that, he seemed to be losing a lot of weight lately - which was probably what was leading to the hair loss as well

and whenever you guys weren’t hanging out, he was pretty much always at the hospital

you’d mentioned gently a couple times that you were worried for him bc you were worried that his job was working him too hard (so as to not tip him off)

(hence the long hours at the hospital and the weight/hair loss)

but jungwon always gave you a tight smile and changed the subject

so you slowly learned to just drop it and not push him

you had no clue that jungwon was struggling with how to tell you the truth behind all those hours and the weight loss

you had no clue that jungwon was head over heels in love with you

you, y/n l/n, were completely unaware that jungwon knew exactly how you felt because he felt the same exact way

you had no clue that you were catching feelings for the terminally ill jungwon yang - according to jungwon yang

jungwon had liked you from the beginning, honestly

the almost comical way you fretted over him when you accidentally pied him, only to see rashes on his neck

the way that your eyes would light up when you were talking about how you wanted to teach

the way that your nose crinkled when jungwon brought home asparagus for you to experiment with one day

the way your eyes fall to his lips and then back up hurriedly, as if you’re scared that he’s going to find out you like him the same way that he likes you

which he does.

but jungwon yang also has terminal cancer.

which meant that he was absolutely never going to tell you about his feelings and let you tell him about yours

because he didn’t want to know that when he left this earth, he left someone who loved him behind on it

he’s scared

he’s scared that you wouldn’t move on (was that his ego speaking? perhaps)

or that you wouldn’t understand why jungwon had taken so long to acknowledge his feelings

or worst of all, jungwon was so fucking terrified that you would leave his side if you knew that he had terminal cancer

because that’s a burden that not many people were willing to take on voluntarily

so he stuff his feelings down deep into his stomach, where his heart can’t reach them

and it is the one thing that he regrets most

little does he know that you’re well aware of the fact that jungwon had cancer

jake had called you one day, out of breath and shaken to the core with worry

his friend jungwon had called jake and collapsed mid-call, three days before you met jungwon officially, and the line had gone silent

jake had begged you to drive jungwon to the hospital

which you obviously did, the second you found jake’s spare key

and managed to haul jungwon into your beat up toyota

and even in his semi-conscious state, you couldn’t help but think that he was the most gorgeous person that you’d ever seen in your life

and that you really wanted to get to know him

jungwon never knew that you were the one who had driven him to the hospital, since jake was the only one in the room when he awoke, finding out from the doctor that he had collapsed due to the toll of treatment on his body

you’d instructed jake to keep the news of you driving jungwon a secret

jungwon’s cancer wasn’t exactly public information, and you hated to think that jungwon would have a certain impression of you and that you’d never be able to speak to him normally

which is why you figure that jungwon simply just doesn’t want to want anyone at this point in his life

but you can’t help it

you like him so much that it starts to hurt

and you have to let it out

you have to tell him just how much you love him

before the love starts eating you from inside out

jungwon is silent when you blurt it out one day, while the two of you are standing in the kitchen, cooking with a random louis armstrong song playing in the background

you’re somewhat aware of what jungwon is going to say before he says it

but you let him say it anyway

“i’m not sure i want to get into a relationship right now.”

“that’s fine. i didn’t tell you because i wanted you to respond; i told you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

the louis armstrong song just continues to play and the two of you continue to cook in silence

it never grows awkward between the two of you

even with your feelings out in the open, everything stays the same

the two of you still tiptoe the line of friends and something more without ever crossing over to the other side

until that one day

jungwon had planned to finally put his big boy pants on and tell you how he feels

fuck the cancer

fuck his hesitation

fuck everything

he just wanted you to know that he liked you too

and that you were the reason why he was still smiling and dancing his way through this summer, even though he’d thought that he wouldn’t be able to smile like that anymore

he was all ready too

he’d gotten you flowers, put on your favorite song and cooked you your favorite food

he pushes down the funny feeling in his stomach that had been bugging him for the past couple of days, chalking it up to nerves because he was finally acting on his feelings

but that would be the nail in the coffin

the last thing that jungwon remembered was the feeling of swaying before falling to the floor, seeing jake sim’s shoes run over to where he was

and then everything went black

when jungwon woke up, the doctor had to inform him once again that he had collapsed

that the funny feeling in his stomach was no silly joke, but the cancer attacking him from inside out aggressively

they tell him that they had to perform emergency surgery to replace his kidney, which was damaged beyond repair, something that no one had been able to trace previously

he was lucky, the doctor said to them

there was a patient who was in a car crash in the operating next to him and the kidney had been in perfect condition

the doctor continued, saying how lucky jungwon was that the kidney had been compatible for his body, stating that the likelihood of his body being able to beat the cancer that had been destroying him increasing significantly

but jungwon isn’t listening

everything felt wrong.

jungwon could feel it in his heart

it wasn’t right

he swallows and asks the doctor the name of the patient

but he knows the doctor cannot reveal information like that

it doesn’t matter

once he sees jake burst through the doors, tears streaming down his cheeks, jungwon knows

“it was her, wasn’t it.”

jake just falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body and the doctor sees himself out

“she wanted me to tell you that she was happy that it was her before you.”

jungwon just falls back against the pillow, staring up the ceiling, unable to feel or think of anything

he just felt numb

even at your funeral, just a week later, jungwon is unable to think

he’s numb

completely frozen

unable to move on

and when he’s asked to pay his respects, all he can do is touch your coffin, his tears finally falling

“i’m so grateful you pied me in the face that day, y/n. i wish i had - i wish i had told you, i like you too. and i’ll get pied in the face with a truckload of peaches if it meant that you could come back to me. to come back to me to at least let me tell you that i like you. the same way you like me.”

he laughed cynically through his tears.

“you don’t have to respond. i just wanted to tell you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

jungwon never falls in love again after that, unable to forget the memories the two of you had shared in that short but sweet summer.

and every year, on the year that you’d given your life to jungwon, he eats a peach pie, wishing that you were there to chide him and eat it with you, louis armstrong playing in the background

#jnnul #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #jungwon headcanons #jungwon scenarios #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #jungwon fluff #jungwon fic #jungwon #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #jungwon angst

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turcott3 · 11 months ago

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nasty

trevor zegras x fem! reader

warnings?: smut!, cursing, fingering, oral male receiving, unprotected sex, p in v and of course a little bit of fluff

positions fics masterlist

~don’t wanna wait on it tonight, i wanna get nasty~

“trevor, can we go now?” you ask, tugging in his sleeve. you were at the team dinner, which was practically over by now since people had already begun to leave.

“just wait y/n, stop rushing everything’s okay.” he says trying to soothe whatever nerves you had.

“need you so bad.” you whisper into his ear.

“just five more minutes okay?” he replies kissing you on the cheek causing the heat between your legs to burn hotter. you adjusted the way you were sitting and scooted away from your boyfriend, after all his hand running up and down your thigh all night had been the cause of all of this. the five minutes finally pass and you take it upon yourself to leave.

“it was lovely seeing everyone, but we have to go. have a great night.” you smile, anxiously pulling trevor by the sleeve out of the restaurant.

“what was all of that?” he asks once we get to the car.

“trevor you’ve been driving me crazy, your hand running up and down my thigh all night. i was fighting off goosebumps so people wouldn’t think anything was going on at the table. and now i’ve been sitting in soaking underwear for at least an hour, probably more. take us home now.” you demand and he giggles, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“so antsy baby.” he smirks placing his hand back on your thigh.

“trevor.”

“relax baby, i got you.” he says as he merges onto the interstate, putting the car in cruise control. his right hand travels closer and closer to the heat between my legs, running two fingers over your wet underwear.

“wow you weren’t lying.” he laughs, sliding your pantries to the side and running his fingers through your sensitive folds.

“fuck.” you say shutting your eyes, you’d been yearning for this feeling for the last few hours and it was finally here. you didn’t care that you were in the car riding down the highway at 70 miles per hour.

“that’s my good girl.” he says as he presses two fingers into you causing you to moan loudly.

“fuck trevor. oh my god.” you said as he moved his fingers at an unforgivably slow but godly pace, curling his fingers inside you.

“tell me how it feels huh.” he says.

“it’s fucking good, really fucking good.” you gasp, grabbing tightly onto his wrist as he brought you closer to the edge, quicker than you could’ve ever imagined, almost embarrassingly quick.

“i’m gonna come.” you say breathlessly.

“come for me baby.” he says as you tighten around his fingers, practically screaming out of pleasure as an orgasm rips through your body.

“oh my god.” you gasp, struggling for air, “get off the interstate right now.”

“okay?” he says, sucking his fingers clean of your mess. he finds the nearest exit and pulls into a dimly lit parking lot, stopping the car.

“it’s your turn.” you say as you unbutton his belt, palming at his dick through his underwear, feeling him grow under you.

“y/n.” he says with his breath shaking. you tug down the waistband allowing his dick to spring free. you take it into your hand before leaning over the console and spitting on it, jerking him off more.

“couldn’t wait until we got home, needed you right now.” you say looking up through your eyelashes at the boy who was in awe of you. your tongue makes contact with his tip, tasting the salty taste of his pre cum instantly. with the help of your hand, you took all of him into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and pulling him out with the pop of your lips, saliva covering the area around your mouth. you swirled your tongue around the tip while pumping with your hands before taking him all back into your mouth, this time sucking in your cheeks, causing you to gag slightly. you take him out of your mouth, spit webbing from your mouth, which you wipe away with your arm. with tears in your eyes, you make eye contact with the boy, who grabs you by the face with one hand and kisses you shamelessly.

“god you’re so fucking perfect.” he says once he pulls away, sounding nearly intoxicated by the way you made him feel. you climb over the console and straddle his lap, stroking his dick a few more times before placing a hand on his shoulder as you lined him up with your entrance. you sank onto him, a raspy moan leaving your mouth.

“you fit so perfectly around me.” he said pulling your dress up and placing both hands on your bare ass. you bounce up and down at a rhythmic pace, your moans consistent. your lips attached, tongues tangled for what seemed like hours, but after a while, he gripped tightly onto your ass as he littered your neck with hickeys. trevor needed more.

“fuck.” you scream as he bucks his hips up into you, pounding as hard as he could.

“such a pretty girl when i’m fucking you like this.” he says grabbing onto both of your cheeks with one hand, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he thrusted into you at an unforgiving speed, hitting the sweet spot deep inside of you each time.

“oh my god, trevor.” you say, both of your arms wrapping around his shoulders and laying your head on one of them as he continued his pace. you felt yet another orgasm creeping up on you, but you tried your best to hold off.

“are you gonna come for me, i feel you tightening around me, so good.” he says into your ear sending you over the edge.

“oh my fuck.” you say as he slows down his pace, fucking you through your high. his strokes getting slower and sloppier until you feel his warm seed spill deep inside you, slowing down until you were both still, breathing heavily. you could feel his hot breath on your shoulder as he kissed it.

“baby, you made me come so much.” you smile, legs shaking, leaning up to look at his face and kissing him sloppily.

“god i love you.” he says when you pull him out of you and sit back in your seat.

“i love you more.” you say leaning over to kiss him again.

“let’s get home and clean you up okay baby?” he asks, placing his hand back on your thigh, more innocently this time.

“okay.” you sigh, recovering from the fucking you’d the received.

“you know i’m kinda glad you didn’t wanna wait because that was the hottest thing i have ever experienced.” he laughs as you pull into the parking garage of your apartment complex.

“you’re the hottest thing i’ve ever experienced.” you laugh as a reply. you spent the rest of the night together in your bed, fucking like bunnies. you never wanted to stop the feeling he gave you these nights, but most importantly you’d never been more in love.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras x y/n #trevor zegras smut #trevor zegras imagine #anaheim ducks #mason mctavish #turcs’ talk #turcs <3

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meatballsu · 1 year ago

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I have rewatched TADC many times recently and I come up with many interesting theories about Ragatha (My favorite) and I think it is great to share them here.

Theory: Ragtha is kinda on Caine’s side, or at least she is the person who always “giving”.

This isn’t intend to propose that Caine and Ragatha are “bad” or something. I’m not sure if anyone is watching the GenV series (Spoilers alert!)

and I think Ragatha is sorta a role like Kate that supports the Caine.

One thing is that when Caine is stopped by Pomni questioning about how do they leave, Ragatha immediately takes the question with a little stuttering opening, like she helps Caine when the AI is malfunctioned.

Another thing is she apologized to Pomni when glitching, says Pomni had a bad day, it looks like Ragatha took the responsibility that she should take care of the newbies.

I also noticed a very interesting detail about Ragatha's motion design. I collected all the clips of she approaching while people remaining steady. You know it usually means this person is a sacrificer in relationships.

Even when she is not in a good mood about Pomni's “abandon” . Ragatha still approaches and stands by her side.

This gives me the feeling that Caine may have demanded or asked her for help to care the new "sucker".

Additionally, the Kaufmo part also striked me a little. (It may turns out to be simply the pilot needs and my overthinking. But consider I have to wait for months to expect a new episode so why not brain storm.)

So Ragatha is the person who promts to check Kaufmo:

Ragatha: Oh, wait, we should go check on Kaufmo. And I'm pretty sure he'd like to meet Pomni.

While Kinger refuses the idea and says:

I think Kaufmo's gone insane. Last time I spoke with him, he was rambling endlessly about some exit.

After they went to the carpet, Ragatha mentioned that:

Well, we usually do, when we first arrive, but after a while you start to realize that you really can't leave and constantly chasing an unattainable goal will start driving you a bit crazy. And eventually you get to asking what the point of anything is and you completely lose sight of who you are and why you're even alive and when you reach your breaking point something really terrible can happen.

When she saw the abstracted Kaufmo and she stuttered that the creature might be the “terrible thing” refered to what she said before.

At this time I think we can assume that:

Ragatha knows the pursuing exits could drive people to the breaking point.

Ragatha knows people who breaks will happen terrible things.

Ragatha knows by Kinger (who is unresponisive but still noticed somthing wrong) that Kaufmo is unstable recently.

Ragatha knows what “abstract” is, and someone( people who came earlier than her or Caine) kept warnig/brainwashing her that “ Don’t overthink about exist or terrible thing gonna happen”.

Why Ragatha wants to take Pomni to go check on Kaufmo even she knows he is in a unstable situation?

I think it can be explained that:

She wants to form a stonger colleague relationship with Pomni by taking her to meet the used-to-be-frindely Kaufmo (who liked to tell jokes). or—

She wants to warn Pomni by letting her see “the terrible thing” to stop her from thinking about exit.

By going through all this points, I feel that Ragatha is the most positive on the concept about “No exist”. It looks like she tries hard to prove that there is no way out.

This point is also supported by Caine. And Ragatha hints in a non-obvious way through the pilot that Caine treats them with good intention:

The official site introduces the series with:

So nevertheless, I think Ragatha is still a trapped victim, and the pilot seems to show that she grows a bit Stockholm syndrome and stands by Caine’s side to defend her sanity. That's why she is described as the sweetest optimist.

ps:

I find Jax's different attitude is intersting when Ragatha and Kinger mentioned their daily routine:

Jax didn't comment on Ragatha explaining their useless sleep routine.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #ragatha #kinger #pomni #caine #jax #tadc theory

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teamchasezwrites · 1 month ago

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Second Chance (3/3)

Word Count: 6,538

Characters: Damian Priest

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: some people are worth a second chance. (A Wrestlemania XL Night Two fic)

Catch up: Part I Part II

Author's Note: The last part of what was only supposed to be a one shot. I did go back and forth with adding smut here, but I decided to keep it fluffy. Thank you for reading.

Embassy Suites was located near the Philadelphia airport. Tucked on the opposite side of the Interstate with a handful of other hotels for weary travelers. She was a bundle of nerves. The ball in her stomach grew as she got closer to her exit on 95 from her place in Northeast Philly.

After Wrestlemania concluded, she and her sister fought the crowd out of the stadium to the parking lot, then fought those same people in vehicles out of the sports complex where police office directed the majority of people onto 95 south. Which was annoying because they needed the north bound lanes but she was happy not to be tunneled onto 76.

The traffic cleared tremendously once they were headed north, so it took them no time at all to make it home. She used the time to freshen up and ward off her sister who wanted her to pack an overnight bag. Then there was nothing to do but wait. The clock was pushing one in the morning before her phone lit up with a text.

‘Sorry for it being so late.’

‘I’m back at the hotel.’

‘I hope you can still come.’

Now it was pushing two. She was hard pressed to remember the last time she stayed up late. Usually she was crawling into bed at nine and turning the bedside lamp off at ten. Right now she was nowhere near tired. She was wired. Nervous but wired.

There was one parking spot remaining near the main entrance. A sign verified it was for hotel visitors. The rest of the parking spots were behind a barrier arm that needed a room key to be swiped. Those looked completely full; probably from Wrestlemania attendees.

Climbing from the car, she hovered in indecision on taking her purse. Deciding she didn’t need anything beyond her car keys and phone, she shoved her purse beneath the driver’s seat. The headlights flashed with the press of the lock on her key fob. With a deep breath, she entered the hotel, her eyes darting around.

The front desk was empty. A sign told people to ring the bell for assistance. Not a soul in sight. Her hand made its way into her coat pocket to pull her phone when she heard her name being called. Looking over her shoulder she spotted Luis coming down the hall.

He was just as commanding walking through the dimly lit hallway wearing black joggers, black hoodie, and white Vans as he was standing in the ring in front of thousands. She was struck how much confidence he exuded now than he did when they were together.

“You made it.”

His voice blanketed over her, a deep lilt that caused goosebumps to break out over her skin. She shivered involuntarily.

“Thankfully the traffic was all cleared so it was a pretty quick drive.”

A blush darkened her cheeks. She felt awkward talking about traffic something her father tended to do. A small topic conversation one would have with a stranger while waiting somewhere.

“I know it’s a little chilly, but they have a seating area outside with a fire pit. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go to my room or not…” It’s what he wanted. To gather her up in his arms. To reignite that spark he felt when his lips touched hers at the stadium. To feel her body against his, skin on skin.

The offer was tempting. It was on the tip of her tongue to say yes. To take his hand and allow him to lead her further into the hotel and to his room. “That sounds good. Lead the way.”

Damian swept his arm out toward the hallway he just walked down. He smiled, “after you.”

“Thank you, Sir,” she returned his smile and walked down the hall with him falling in step with her. A ghosting touch rested upon her lower back and her breath hitched. How many times had they walked like this? With his hand on the small of her back as they worked their way through a crowded Atlantic City club or filing from the movie theatre where he made her watch Paranormal Activity 4.

With a palm over her head, he held the door open. Before he allowed it to latch, he did a quick pocket check to make sure he had his room key. A short distance away stood a propane gas fire pit in the middle of a concrete slab. Two sides of the fire pit had 2 black Adirondack chairs while the remaining two sides had a couple of whicker outdoor loveseats with grey cushions. Damian was happy to find the little spot when scoping out places they could spend time. The late hour would give them the privacy.

He hoped.

While he reached down to turn the knob and pressed the ignition switch, he let her pick a seat. Flames came to life dancing over the fake wood. Turning, he couldn’t keep the smile off his face when he saw she chose a loveseat. Thanking God for the gift, he sat down on the cushion next to her.

The fire chased away the chill surrounding her. Though it could be the heat radiating off Damian next to her. His tall stature nearly dwarfed his side of the loveseat. The creaking of the whicker made her second guess her decision not to take one of the Adirondack chairs. Her reasons for not selecting the chair were sound. The slope of the seat would angle her away from the fire and it was cold. Two – the loveseat allowed her to be closer to Damian. She wasn’t going to pass that up.

She watched the flames dancing in front of her aware of Damian’s presence next to her. She could probably use her sister at the moment to kick her foot or shout out she loves him. The silence was slightly awkward. They had nothing to talk about and everything to talk about.

“What made you come to Wrestlemania?” Damian asked breaking the silence. He had so much he wanted to say. He wanted to drop to his knees in front of her and beg for forgiveness for taking control of the decision to end their relationship.

An undignified snort escaped. “My sister says it was cheaper than getting a tattoo removed.”

“You have a tattoo?” Damian’s eyes widened. She couldn’t even come with him when he was getting work done on his tattoos or adding a new one. Completely terrified of needles. “No…” he said when she nodded.

“Guilty.” She looked at him with a small smile and shrugged. “Apparently all I have to do is be really drunk. Like insanely drunk that I don’t even remember it.”

Damian laughed. “Can I see it or is it in a delicate location?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

She blushed, her face heating on top of the fire. “Ask me later.” The words came off flirty and were met with his smile. She blew out a quiet breath and slowly felt herself relax. “I came with my sister. I’m glad it was a little warmer tonight. I nearly froze last night.”

“Yeah, I’m almost glad I didn’t have a match last night. Everyone was talking about how cold it was. Especially the later on it got. I was supposed to wrestle but Finn got hurt a few weeks ago. So we had to relinquish the tag belts.” It stung to relinquish them due to injury, but they were slated to lose them last night so it didn’t hurt as bad.

“You were supposed to be in that ladder match?”

Damian nodded. “Finn and I had the belts. Both sets. The red are Raw tag belts and the blue for Smackdown. They are usually on different teams for each show, but they’ve been combined for awhile now. The ladder match was to make sure different teams won them so they’d be separated again. When they found out Finn wouldn’t be cleared, we vacated the titles and had to withdraw from the match.”

“That had to have sucked.”

“A little, but we were losing them anyway.”

“Did you know everything in advance?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes it’s just an outline,” Damian explained. He placed his right arm along the back of the loveseat and he scooted back into the corner of the loveseat. As he relaxed he rested his ankle on his thigh. “Anything can change up until the last minute. I was nervous all day today. Got to the stadium hours before Wrestlemania even started. Kept thinking I was gonna get pulled aside and told they were scrapping my cashing in. Between Seth’s match and everything with Roman, Cody, and The Rock, my opportunity was dependent on all that. They had to flush that out before I was even in the picture.”

“The crowd really loves you.” A sense of pride enveloped her for Damian. Not only did he achieve his dream of wrestling for the WWE, but he was the champion. The fans went crazy when his music hit and then again when he was declared victorious.

Damian smiled, ducking his head in a wave of embarrassment. “It’s been awesome. Each week it seems to get louder and louder.” The fingers of the hand on the back of the loveseat tangled in the soft silky strands of her blonde hair. He played with the strands as he continued talking. “I’m supposed to be a heel… a bad guy. They are supposed to boo me…hate me… but somewhere along the way fans started cheering for me. I can’t believe it.” Another feeling of complete disbelief washed over him. “I’m actually the champion.”

Without thought she reached out and placed her hand on his thigh. The hard muscle twitched beneath the knit black fabric. “Oh Luis, you deserve it. You worked so hard for this.”

“There were a lot of moments over the last ten or so years I questioned if I even belonged here. If it was ever going to happen. Questioning if I was even good enough.”

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

He moved his left hand from the arm of the loveseat to her hand resting on his leg. He wondered at her words. Right here was on top and next to her. “The road to get this point was probably…”

“Like the roads of Philadelphia? Filled with assholes, potholes and construction cones?”

Damian laughed and squeezed her hand in his. He shifted in his seat sitting more upright. The move put him closer to her. “Something like that. I’m not sure there were assholes unless maybe in the mirror.”

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes. “I doubt that.”

“Maybe not an asshole,” he gave in. Looking down he stared at their hands in the glow of the fire. His hand was void of the rings he usually wore. She had a thin gold ring on both her index and middle fingers. Her fingers were long and elegant. Her hand such a contrast to his which made it fit perfectly in his. “Maybe a dumbass.”

“Now that I can believe,” she laughed. Warmth wrapped itself around her when Damian grabbed her hand. Her heart beat faster when their eyes met. She nearly melted under his gaze. “You wear eyeliner better than I do.”

Damian gave a surprised laugh, not expecting that particular line to come out of her mouth. “Thank the make up department for that. Sometimes I swear they use a sharpie with how hard it is to get off.”

“The hair is amazing.”

“I think I was in the hair department longer than some of the women.” He still had the dreads in, pulled back away from his face. Before Raw, he’d get them taken out and go back to his regular look.

The night grew darker as they sat there letting the fire chase the chill away. She filled him in on her sister’s new marriage, her job in the city, and the small place she had in Northeast Philly. He updated her on his family and his newfound family in wrestling. He even spilled the direction creative was thinking about taking.

“I can’t believe after the celebration I saw tonight they are gonna break you guys up.” She’d gravitated toward him – or him to her - while they talked. Now she was pressed against his side with his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders. His left hand still held hers in his lap. What chill the fire didn’t chase, his body heat did. Not a part of her was cold. Sleep was the furthest thing on her mind.

“It’s one thing you gotta learn in the business. Pieces are constantly moving and evolving. With Rhea taking time off here soon to get married, it’s just something that can easily be inserted into the storyline almost organically. It’s gonna suck to not be with them anymore. We travel together. Room together. Then in one night the plug gets pulled and that’s it.”

“Like a break up.” The words were out before she processed them. What Damian described mirrored a relationship. Days, weeks, years spent doing everything together. Being in the same orbit. Then it was just gone and you were supposed to carry on.

Carry on as if your whole world hadn’t ended. Carry on like your heart wasn’t in pieces all over the floor. You were left to pick up and try to put them back together. The pieces never truly fit together though. Pieces were too damaged. Some even missing.

Damian felt the words as if an arrow pierced his heart. If his hands weren’t currently holding her, he would have rubbed one over his chest to sooth the aching muscle. The chill sweeping over him had nothing to do with the outside temperature. It was time to pay the piper.

“What happened Luis?” She asked staring into the fire watching the orange and yellow dance. Just like that her heart recalled that painful memory where he walked out.

‘This isn’t working anymore.’

“Honestly?”

“No. I want you to lie to me.” She snapped and sat up. The movement displaced his hold and she felt the immediate chill penetrating her body sweeping through every recess pushing the warmth out. “Why did you break up with me?”

“Looking back now I can see all the things I should’ve done and how I should’ve handled it. But at the time, I was that dumbass in the mirror and made a selfish decision.” Damian sat up, his own body chilled with the loss of her in his arms. He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. His head hung looking at his hands dangling between his legs.

Silence greeted his admission. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Our relationship was never the issue. I…”

“I swear to God if you give me the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ I’m gonna punch you in the face that will have you spending more time in the make up chair than Rhea.”

Damian believed it. After all, he taught her how to throw a punch. “I’m sorry…”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. The beginning of anger starting to creep on the outer edges. The emotional rollercoaster of the weekend was going to end right here. Off the rails and crashed into the pavement. She moved to stand but his hand shot out. Her leg burned where it rested on her. She moved her eyes from it to his face. His eyes were pleading.

“Please stay,” Damian begged. The bubble they were in the whole night, cocooned in old memories and past feelings burst. That selfish part of him wanted to blow it back up and allow those feelings to encompass them once again. To not allow old hurts in.

She nodded and watched as his shoulders sag. His posture reminded her so much of Luis back when they were together. He rubbed his eyes beneath clear framed glasses. There was a vulnerability coming off him and her heart twisted. “Luis…” she whispered.

“I know you don’t want to hear it. But it was me. It was all me.” Damian’s voice came out low and muffled behind his hands as he rubbed his face. “I was in such a bad place… bad mindset. I wanted to become this wrestler... it’s all I ever wanted to do and I thought it would just happen. And it didn’t. It wasn’t working out. I had no back up plan.”

She stayed quiet listening to Damian. She knew it was rough for him trying to break into the scene. It wasn’t a business you could just walk on and succeed. You had to put in the work and pay dues in hopes that someone would notice you who could give you a shot.

“There was such a spiral. Where I tried out for WWE the first time and didn’t make it, it was just another hit already beating me down.” He stared into the fire as all those old feelings of inadequacy and failure were drudged up from deep places inside of him. “I was lying to you…I quit my job at the club because they wanted to give me a promotion and a raise, but I had to stop wrestling.”

“But…” she started but the words never came.

“I didn’t want to give up wrestling. It’s all I wanted to do. So I walked. I walked and it just got worse. I lost my apartment with the job. I ended up sleeping in my car a lot. Even on church steps…”

“Luis,” she whispered. Her eyes filling with tears. Her heart twisted up with hurt. She had troubling swallowing past the lump in her throat.

“I was broke. Living off the few dollars I’d get wrestling.” Damian’s own eyes grew wet with tears as he remembered those days. The unknowing. The desolate feeling drowning him as he parked his car in a random parking lot to sleep.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You could have stayed with me?”

“I was in a bad place mentally. You were the only good thing I had and on those nights where I laid on the church steps I kept thinking about you and how I had nothing to offer. I was a loser in my 30s. Homeless. How could I ask you to stay? How could I ask you to believe in me when I was starting not to believe in myself? But I was just selfish enough to keep you… then my car got broken in to and all my ring gear was stolen. It was all over.”

“Because I loved you?” She said quietly, her heart breaking. “I believed in you because I loved you. You didn’t have to ask me to. I already did. Sure we didn’t have much but I just needed you. Nothing else mattered. You were my person.” While she hurt for Damian and what he was going through at the time, she hurt for herself too. How could she not have seen it? How could he not trust her enough to open up to her about how bad it had gotten?

“I know.” Damian turned his head to look at her. His fingers rubbed together in jerking movements and he wished he had one of his rings on so he could twist it back and forth to control his hands. “I knew that, but in my head the voices were louder that you deserved so much better than what I could give you… what I was giving you.”

He wondered, as he watched a tear escape and roll down her cheek, if it had been better to not have noticed her in the crowd tonight. If they should have just let the past lay. He thought about her over the years sure, always equated her with the one who got away. Because of that, a part of his heart would always be hers. But was it worth it to drag up all the pain from the demise of your relationship?

“I felt like I was doing you a favor. Letting you go. I would end up wherever I ended up, but you… you had your whole life ahead of you. You’d move on, meet someone new. Someone better and more stable who could give you the life you deserved.”

“That was never your decision to make.” Her tone was hard and bitter.

“I know,” Damian said with a sigh. “At least I know that now. Rhea was coming to me for relationship help with Matt – who is her husband now. I could see it clearly. Probably because it wasn’t that long ago I was doing the same thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“Standing in her own way. Making decisions for the other person without consulting them. Placing the weight of the entire relationship on her shoulders.”

“Did the irony slap you in the face?”

Damian chuckled, nodding. “Oh yeah. By then I knew it was too late. It been too long. I had no idea where you were. And even then,” he shrugged. “Assumed you’d be married and out of reach anyway.”

“There you go assuming shit pertaining to me again.” She reached into her pocket, where the make up wipe her sister handed her earlier in the night remained. It was still damp enough. Removing the towelette she rubbed it over the inside of her ring finger on her left hand.

Damian watched the movements perplexed. It wasn’t as if she was washing her hands. She was concentrating on one spot in particular. He wondered if she put her hand in something on the loveseat.

“You asked me why I came to Wrestlemania and I told you it was cheaper than getting a tattoo removed…” she kept her eyes down as she held her hand out across the seat to him. Her hand trembled as he took it in his.

Damian’s gaze hovered on her face for a moment before his eyes dropped to their hands. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for until a slightly dark blemish caught his eye. Hard to see in the shadows of the fire.

Turning her hand so her thumb faced up, he squinted. She curled her index and middle fingers down out of the way and his breath caught in his throat. The delicate script font stood out like a beacon in the night. A lighthouse in the harbor calling a ship home.

He raised questioning eyes to her, but she still kept her gaze averted. The tattoo pulled his gaze and he stared at his name etched in black against pale ivory skin. He took it all in. The cursive font made his name look so delicate. The heart attached to the tail of the s drawing him in; a siren calling a wayward sailor. He ran his thumb over the tattoo.

“I don’t remember even getting it,” she spoke softly. Her eyes followed the movements of his thumb gently moving back and forth across her finger. “Happened about three years after we broke up. My roommate at the time wanted to be a tattoo artist…”

“You let an inexperienced person ink you?” Damian’s voice rose. The disbelief evident in his tone.

“I like to think I put up a good fight that night to ward her off and that she just eventually wore me down. Either that or held me down,” she laughed quietly. “I really don’t know. I woke up with a massive hangover the next day, no memory of the day before, and your name tattooed on me.”

Using his free hand, he reached across his body and cupped her cheek. Her skin cool against his warm hand. He didn’t give her a chance. He ducked his head and pressed his lips to hers, swallowing her surprised gasp.

This time there were no cameras, no fans yelling and screaming trying to get his attention. It was just them. The quiet of the night only broken by the hum of passing cars on the nearby interstate. Their lips moved together, opening and closing on each other. Their hands shifted in his lap to clutch and fingers entwine. His hand shifted up her cheek and his fingers tangled in her hair.

He licked against her lips, nipping at her bottom lip. When she sighed and her lips parted, his tongue licked into her mouth. Chasing a taste that was both foreign and familiar at the same time. He tightened his hold on the back of her head, pulling her closer to him. A moan fell from his lips when he felt her hand press against his chest in an effort to balance herself. He wanted her to fall onto him.

With that thought, he dropped her hand and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into him. The kiss turned slower and deeper.

“Mi Corazón, te extrañé…” he whispered against her lips.

“I missed that,” she sighed, blinking her eyes open. During the kiss she moved closer to him, now pressed to his side. His arms wrapped around her holding her in place. She was turned toward his body.

“Missed what?”

“You speaking Spanish to me…”

Hearing this, Damian let the words fall from his lips as he trailed kisses across her cheek to her ear. His accent heavy as he spoke words of love and how much he missed her. How he would do anything for her. How he would never let her go again.

“You’re not playing fair,” she answered, her words soft. His breath was warm against her skin. She shivered not from the cold. From his words. His voice. His touch.

Damian chuckled, his breath dancing across her cheek. He trailed his nose once again on the soft skin of her cheek. This time his goal was her lips. Those sweet tasting lips made him weak inside. “I’m a bad guy… I play dirty.”

He captured her lips again. When the kiss ended they were both breathless. She laid her head on his shoulder, the material cool against her flushed cheeks. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close to him. Her right hand lay on his chest. Her left caught between them. She shuddered and snuggled closer. “Fuck it’s cold.”

Damian laughed and tightened his hold. The temperature dropped noticeably in the time they’d been sitting outside. He wasn’t even sure what time it was. He was sure he wasn’t ready to let her go. “We can go up to my room…”

The invitation hung between them. A door masked as Pandora’s Box. Going upstairs with Damian – to his room – was a major decision. She’d already given in to kissing and being held by him. Did she want to take it a step further? Hours ago, the answer was no. Her sister tried to make her take an overnight bag. Nearly thrusting the duffle in her hands with a knowing wink. She could still hear the scoff and see the eye roll when she tossed the bag back on her bed.

“I’m just not ready to let you go,” Damian confessed.

“I’m not ready to jump into this like nothing ever happened between us.”

“I’m not pressuring you to. I’d stay right here all night like this. I really just don’t want you to go. If you’re not comfortable going to my room, there is a little alcove inside we can sit.”

Truth be told, she didn’t want to leave either. She wanted to stay just like she was, wrapped up in Luis’s arms. Her toes, however, were screaming. She can no longer feel them and she was close to thrusting her hands beneath his hoodie seeking his body heat. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Damian repeated. “My room or the sitting area inside?” He wanted to be sure he didn’t misunderstand. God, he didn’t want to screw this up.

“Your room,” she answered and used the hand on his chest to push herself up to a standing position. “No funny business though.”

Damian laughed and stood. With frozen fingers he killed the fire pit. The chill was instant. “Scouts honor.”

“That’s not even the sign,” she rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand with only two fingers held up instead of three.

“The third finger was frozen,” he grinned. He adjusted their hands so their fingers were entwined. They walked swiftly up the sidewalk to the side door. He pulled his room key from his hoodie pocket and pressed it against the pad next to the door. The light turned green and the click of the lock disengaging echoed in the night.

“Oh that feels nice,” she groaned as the heat of the hotel hit them as they walked inside. She followed his lead down the hall to the elevator. The car was waiting for them so the doors opened immediately when he pressed the button. The front desk was still unmanned. The clock on the wall read four am. She groaned as she stepped into elevator.

“You okay?” Damian asked, pressing the button to the fourth floor.

“Just saw the clock. It’s already four.”

“Really? Doesn’t feel like it.”

When the doors opened, he led her from the elevator; his hand still grasping hers. The hotel was completely silent. The patrons all tucked into bed hours ago, except for them. Two people who were reconnecting again; looking to start a new beginning. He squeezed her hand. He turned his head and looked down at her with a smile.

“You okay?” She asked as they came to a stop outside a door with a do-not-disturb placard hanging on the door knob.

“Oh yeah.” He held the room key to the key fob on the door. Just like the door downstairs, the light flashed green and the sound of the lock disengaging echoed into the quiet hallway. He held the door open, allowing her to go first. He had a momentary freak out as he ran through his mind at the state of his room.

There was no need to worry. After leaving the stadium and arriving back at the hotel, he showered and picked up his room in hopes she’d be joining him.

The suite had two rooms – more than he needed. The door opened directly into the first room. It housed a pullout sofa bed to the right with a bedside table on either side. An ottoman in front and a green flowered chair to the right of the couch in the short wall shared with the bathroom. A table with two chairs sat in front of the window. The window looked out over the hallway which he felt was weird. The first thing he did when he checked in to the room was pull the shades closed. Across from the couch was a dresser with a flat screen TV on top. The section came in handy last night when the rest of Judgement Day came to hang out after the show for a celebratory drink for Rhea’s successful title defense. A small counter that housed a mini fridge below was the last item in the room.

The bathroom door stood open across from the fridge. His shower items still littered the shower and the bathroom counter. A damp towel hung on the hook behind the door. A few droplets of water still clung to the porcelain sink from where he brushed his teeth after showering. The blue pack of make up remover wipes would have caused him some embarrassment but it was what it was. He wore eyeliner sometimes and it was a bitch to get off.

A step further was the bedroom, the king sized bed taking up the majority of the room. The shades were tightly shut to block out the morning sun. The bed still messed up from where he crawled out of it nearly twenty four hours ago. A flat screen TV stood on a dresser across from the bed. The remote thrown haphazardly on the bedside table where his phone charger cord hung off.

Next to the dresser on the window side was an armoire. The suit he wore today already hung from the hanger neatly, next to the one he was going to wear on Raw. A table with a lamp sat right inside the door, it held his black suit case, the lid open. His clothes – both dirty and clean – held a riffled through look. Usually what his suitcase looked like at the end of a trip. Nothing was neatly packed. Everything ended up thrown inside ready to be tossed in the washer when he arrived home.

She slipped out of her coat and placed it on the back of the chair at the table. Her body still held the chill from behind outside in the early spring temperatures. “I don’t think I’m ever going to get warm again.”

“I can help,” Damian said and pulled her into his arms. He wrapped one arm around her waist, the other around her shoulders. His hand dug into her hair and pressed her head to his chest where he tucked it under his chin. He felt a shudder run through her body before ending in his. His eyes drifted close as her arms wrapped around him.

She laid her head on his chest and pressed her hands on his back. She released a shuddering sigh and closed her eyes. He smelled of the crisp spring air and a spicy musk that made her turn her nose into him. She breathed deadly as something inside her settled.

“I will be forever grateful for you shouting you loved me to get my attention tonight.” Damian’s words were spoken softly as he continued to hold her in his arms. There was no coat between them. No barricade. She was flush against him. Finally. After all this time.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She lifted her head from his chest to stare at him. “I didn’t say that.”

“What?” Damian stared at her, his eyebrows drown down.

She giggled. “That wasn’t me.”

“No way… I heard you.”

She shook her head, the teasing smile on her lips. “Nope. It was my sister. I was struck stupid. I couldn’t even breathe, let alone speak…”

“No…” Damian started laughing. That shouted proclamation caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and see her. He assumed it was her. “I guess I owe your sister a thank you.”

“She’s accepting a seven day Italy vacation.”

Damian laughed as he tucked her head back under her chin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She stayed in his arms another moment or two before lifting her head. She stared into his eyes. The deep chocolate orbs reflecting back everything she wanted to say. She saw their past - the love they had, the memories they shared. She saw the present – the moment their eyes met earlier surrounded by thousands of screaming people and how everything stopped and faded until it was just the two of them.

Raising up on her tiptoes, her lips pressed against his. No words were needed. Their lips said everything that needed to be said and things that couldn’t be said… yet.

Her hands drifted from his back around his sides and up his chest. Her hands cupped his cheeks, the stubble of his beard scratching the soft skin of her palms. She tilted her heard and the earth moved beneath her feet. It felt like an electric current moved from their lips through her body following each vein down to her toes and back igniting a fire she hadn’t felt since these very same lips kissed her a decade ago. Damian’s arms tightened around her drawing her impossibly closer. Her toes barely on the floor. Thrown off balance, she trusted him to keep them upright.

The kiss broke and they pressed their foreheads together. Their breaths mixed, coming out in heavy gasps. Her fingers traced the planes of his face where her hands still cupped him. “That’s really playing dirty.”

“Corazón, you kissed me.” Damian pointed out, pressing a series of small kisses to her lips.

She hummed against his lips. “So I did…” She opened her eyes catching his gaze again. His irises were blown wide, the black nearly over taking the dark brown. She took a step back from him, her hands falling from his face and kicked off her shoes. With a quick glance around the room, she reached back and flipped the light switch by the door, sending the room into darkness. A feint glow from the bedroom offered the only light.

Without a word she took his hand again and this time, she was leading him. Toward that glow in the bedroom. Spinning on him, she tugged at his hoodie. “Off.”

Curious to see where this was headed, Damian didn’t voice any complaints. He simply reached down and pulled his hoodie over his head. He smirked when he heard a soft gasp as his bare chest was revealed.

“No shirt?” She stared at his chest, unable to look away. She thought he had a t-shirt on underneath. Her eyes roamed over the bared skin. The tattoos she remembered on his pecs and down his left shoulder. His arms were filled in more and she wanted to explore the ink. A new tattoo sat on the left side of his belly, like birds in flight.

Her fingers trembled and she itched to touch. She drew her own sweatshirt over her head revealing a tank top. She placed both the sweatshirt and her socks over the pushed in chair at the tables where his suitcase laid. The jeans were a bad idea, but she hadn’t planned on being in this position.

That position was climbing into his bed where the covers were already tossed back. The sheets were cool to the touch and she was quick to shove her naked feet beneath the blankets. She looked up, meeting his eyes and sent him a smile while patting the empty space next to her.

“What are you doing?” Damian asked after he climbed in next to her still wearing his pants. He pulled his phone from his pocket and placed it on the charger. He double checked the alarm set before settling back against the pillows.

She moved closer to him and there was a few moments where they shifted and maneuvered in the bed to get into a comfortable position. It ended up being Damian laying on his back with her snuggled into his side. Her head lay in his chest, an arm across his stomach with her hand resting on that new-to-her tattoo. She crossed an ankle over his. His arm wrapped around her back, his hand resting on her hip. The blankets pulled up to help chase away the remnants of the outside temps.

“We’re gonna talk, probably kiss, and maybe sleep.”

“Okay,” Damian said not offering up a complaint. After all, why would he? She was in his arms right where he wanted her. He wasn’t letting this moment – this second chance- pass him up.

Before he reached out to turn the light out, casting the room in darkness, she saw the future in his eyes.

#damian priest #damian priest fanfic #wwe fanfic #wwe fanfiction #damian priest x oc #wwe fanfics #damian priest x reader

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ganondoodle · 2 months ago

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i have seen people talk about how hard it is to draw anything if you have aphantasia (which is good to talk about and true and valid and also intersting to read and this post isnt to devalue that, two things can coexist etc etc)

i personally struggle with the opposite; i have incredible imagination, i'd say it's my best and only "inate talent", (this is not a brag ..) all stories i think about are movies, i can stop them, change camera angle and poses, rotate ever object however i want, place lighting sound and voices, even styles, i switch from ghibli to botw to fortiches style, even into the style of a comic i recently read which wasnt even animated, the only thing that only works half the time is music-

and that all might sound fantastic, but its a mess, it goes too fast and too quickly, things never play out one way, theres interruption, involuntarily sudden changes to other subjects, i feel like struggling to keep an angry horse on one path, it makes me waste HOURS each day just reversing and redoing a scene like im a movie director wizard in my head, theres no ONE finished version, it changes everytime yet i go back over and over again to make it better, i forget most of it within a few hours anyway; even IRL when someone tells me about a memory and they are not sure if i was with them during it once they start to explain trying to make me remember it instead i will imagine it, in the end i wont be sure if i actually remembered or if i just imagined it too real, it scares me how much i forget and cant remember only for my mind to make shit up, makign me doubt my own memory (its weird how it works, i have horrible geographical memory, when i drive somwhere i have known my entire life i need to remember the path to it by imagining driving it, i remember significant things but not the path to them or how they connect or in what order, i have to go through it in my head every single time)

by far the worst part though is that extreme disconnect between whats in my mind and what i can do, just because i can imagine things like that doesnt mean i can draw it (god i WISH), nothing i have ever drawn is how it was in my head, the few things you get to see are the ones i won the fight against myself with to keep going and say 'good enough' at some point the speed is a problem too, the things playing in my head, sometimes even multiple at the same time, play like, again, a movie, whatever im trying to draw is rarely ONE thing, its a whole scene that plays over and over, i want to draw it all but it wont work bc my mind is too fast and i am too slow, it makes me try to skip ahead and get things done as fast as possible, it NEVER works (also too much, theres so many things in my head, i have almost the entirety of the totk rewrite in my head already, novels worth of lore and story for my other projects, its overwhelming how much is in there that i cannot get out and on paper)

its why comics take me so long to make, why detailed paintings are so rare, its the rare times i can force myself to try and tune out my mind and just work on what is in front of me, usually works for a few hours .. if i can manage to reach that sort of focus at all, its why basic sketches of characters are so much easier to do bc i dont have to fight as hard to just draw a character doing nothing- as soon as i want to make it a sketch page of things and scenes the movies are back and are there to haunt me until i cry and give up after hours of trying to keep up with my mind that i will never be able to catch up to (and this is only about drawing .. )

i know skill and speed increase over time, but i wont ever get to where my mind is, its always ahead and trying to skip and jump towards it only makes me stumble and fall flat on my face- maybe its ADHD, maybe its the autism, maybe its the depression, maybe its just me, maybe its just all of that

what im trying to say is, head full, too much thought, too fast, never able to translate it into viewable things in the way and speed as my head works, i explode

#ganondoodles talks #personal #and then i play video game bc its easier than fighting my mind #and feel guilty like the worlds gonna crush me for wasting hundreds of hours on that #bc what could i have done in all that time instead (if my focus was there .. if i was able to keep up with my mind)#its probably either just whining #or ............... incredibly common among non neurotypicals #and here i am complaining #i just want to do so many things but CANT I CANT AND CANT BUT I WANT AND CANT ARGH

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mappingthesky · 7 months ago

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can u make a tiny tinyyy blurb of nymphia being carried by pj? 🥹 nymphia just looks so cute being carried in her recent ig story :"))) <<<33

behold: the nymphia being carried blurb (or: you can’t help but become the sun)

this is actually short and im actually half asleep so pls forgive me if it is choppy. perhaps i will come back and polish tomorrow… but probably not <3 love u thank u for reading <<3

It’s been one of those beautiful, bleary sort of summer days.

They’d gotten up early, because Nymphia had her heart set on the beach, and Jane had promised. Truth be told, the beach wasn’t her thing; She’d rather be luxuriously lazy in the air-conditioned cool of her living room, or a movie theater, or taking aimless laps around the mall to people-watch and shit-talk. Nonetheless, Nymphia isn’t the kind of girl you say no to. Not even close. She’s the kind to make you appreciate the sun for making her jet hair shine a secret shade of brown, for making her eyes go the color of toasted caramel, for the way it kisses her skin and turns her to pure gold. The kind of girl who turns every aimless activity into an adventure, who takes the last thing you’d ever want to do and transforms it into the very thing you’ve been needing for the entirety of your life. How could you say no to a girl like that?

And so they’d packed up the car and driven the forty minutes there - Jane behind the wheel, and Nymphia leaning over to turn the volume up and kiss her cheek, teasing Jane lovingly for being so dishonestly grumpy and so secretly happy. Jane couldn’t even hide it, because she couldn’t imagine a better soundtrack to her summer than Nymphia’s spotify playlists, Nymphia’s singing along, Nymphia’s shrieking laugh and silly, sweet nothings.

Side by side on beach towels in the sand, they lay on their bellies beneath the sun. Jane gazed over at Nymphia - her long hair in a high ponytail, her old Hollywood sunglasses perched on her button nose, her delicate fingers working sunscreen into her skin. “What?” she’d asked as she brushed her fingers across Jane’s cheeks, having insisted that Jane needed more. Jane leaned in to kiss her, dotting her face with white.

The day seemed never-ending. The sun was still high in the summer solstice sky when they’d trudged their way back to the car, Jane’s blonde hair already a shade lighter and her cheeks somehow still reddened. They were tired in the way that only the sun can make you - dazed and happily, desperately sleepy. The forty minutes back to town was decidedly quieter, as Nymphia had dozed off mere minutes after they’d gotten on the interstate. Jane looked over to where Nymphia slept with a gentle hum, smiled to herself, and leaned over to turn the radio down.

The white hot fever of the day had finally broken into dusk by the time they made it home. The sky was indigo blue when Jane pulled into the drive, and Nymphia still hadn’t stirred. She was quiet all while Jane turned the car off and got out, whining softly when Jane opened the passenger’s side door and tried to coax her from her sleep.

“Hi, my love,” Jane cooed, brushing the hair from her face with the sort of tenderness you reserve for someone not quite ready to be woken - soft, soothing, a little apologetic. “We’re home.”

Nymphia’s eyes opened with a wince. She groaned, well and truly worn-out, and let her eyes fall shut again.

“C’mon sleeping beauty,” Jane tried again. “Let’s get you inside.”

It was no use. Nymphia shook her head, her lips pouty with sleep and eyes remaining closed as she mumbled a mere, “Can’t.”

“So, what?” Jane crossed her arms, going serious in the face of Nymphia’s silly. “You’re just gonna sleep in the driveway?”

Nymphia nodded, her face flush against the upholstery, eyes unopening. “Mm-hmm.”

“Okay. Have it your way.” Jane started to turn, reaching for the backseat when Nymphia stretched her arms out.

“No,” Jane groaned at the wordless demand. “Nymphia. C’mon.”

Nymphia’s bottom lip curled out, her eyes blinking open just long enough to work their magic. “Please.”

Jane tried, but her no’s were met with more pouts that shouldn’t be nearly as persuasive as they are. It's no use feigning indifference, because Jane’s heart isn’t in it. It’s no use, because they both know she’d do anything. It’s no use, because Nymphia’s not the kind of girl you say no to. Not even close.

“Alright,” Jane sighs like she’d want it any other way. “Up.”

Nymphia brightens immediately, emitting a soft and bright squeal when Jane leans in and scoops her from the passenger's seat with relative ease. Her arms fly around Jane’s shoulders as she’s held to her chest, wholly and completely cared for. Nymphia tucks her face into Jane’s neck as she carries her up the driveway, smiling against her skin with blissful, sleepy satisfaction.

“You’re so spoiled, you know that?” Jane says, and Nymphia can hear the shake to her head, can hear the smile she’s holding back.

Nymphia wraps her arms a bit tighter around Jane’s neck, buries her face a bit deeper, imagines the closeness of their hearts as she hovers in Jane’s hold for a few more moments. “I know.”

#title is from boygenius because im gay and i Love That Song #he he he……#thank u for thinking of me anon :’)#she writes #prompt #planymphia

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the-hinky-panda · 2 months ago

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War of the Roses: Part IV

Warning: Mention of miscarriages

It’s three in the afternoon when Bill’s phone rings with a number he doesn’t recognize. He’s in the middle of cleaning the pistols he recently shot, an effort to get you out of his system. He had taken care of himself in the shower last night, kicking himself for stopping you from unbuckling his belt in the barn. He let his imagination run wild later that night, picturing your legs wrapped around his hips, his cock slowly sinking into your tight, wet heat. It took less than fifteen seconds before he came.

The morning was just as bad, waking up with a raging hard on and the vestiges of a dream where you were in the bed beside him. It took him thirty seconds to relieve himself that time. So he did the only thing that he could and that was throwing himself into farm work. He unloaded a truck bed full of hay bales, picked up the feed store order and stacked it in the feed room. And when his muscles started getting sore, he chopped wood for two hours. By midafternoon, his energy was beginning to flag and he started cleaning guns to keep his mind and hands busy. But when the phone rang, he took a shot and answered it anyway.

“Yeah.”

There is silence on the other end and he reaches for the end button. But before his finger lands on it, a voice comes through.

“Bill?”

He doesn’t recognize your voice at first. You’ve always been soft spoken, but this is different. You’ve been crying and something twists in his chest. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“He kicked me out,” you tell him with no warble in your voice. But the next statement is more difficult for you to get out. “The horses…I don’t know…”

“What did he do to the fucking horses?”

“Nothing, yet.”

That “yet” makes him just as concerned as you are right now. You getting tossed out is bad enough to make him see red but to put animals into the mix of a human dispute, that’s just unconscionable. “Where are you right now? You safe?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. But I only have three days to find someone to take the horses. Bill, he’s going to send them to the knacker.”

“Fucking hell.” He sits back in his chair. “How many do you have? Four, right?”

You sniff and clear your throat. “Yeah, there’s four of them. There’s a stable in Tulsa that can take two of them because they’re therapy horses but they don’t have space for the other two.”

“Don’t you worry about splitting them up. I’ll have a rig down there first thing in the morning to pick up all four of them. Now,” he stands up and starts putting away the cleaning kit, “what hotel are you staying in?”

You tell him where you are and thank him in between sobs. He immediately calls his barn manager and tells him to drive the rig down to Thresher’s first thing tomorrow morning. He also tells them to throw a couple shovels and burlap bags in the back too. If he has to dig the rose bushes out himself, he will. He knows this may end the business relationship he has with Cal, but in all honesty, he doesn’t give one flying fuck. He has other weed farms; he doesn’t need one in Oklahoma. Thresher is already rich off oil and doesn’t need it either. And it’s better to end this before it even begins.

He packs an overnight bag, locks up the house and climbs into his car. It’s a four hour drive back down to Tulsa, to the hotel name that you gave him. He spends those four hours asking himself why he’s doing this. He’s had plenty of business partners before and never paid their wives any mind. A couple of them tried to get into his bed but he never cared for the mess that it creates being involved with a married woman. But there’s something about you, something that draws him to you.

The hotel he pulls up to is actually a motel right off the interstate. It’s in a dangerous area and the building is falling apart. This is absolutely not going to happen and he’s glad he made the trip down here tonight. The thought of you spending the night in this hellhole makes him just as angry as the horses going to the knacker. He leaves his bag in the car because he is not going to stay here tonight and neither are you. When he knocks on the door, you open it almost immediately.

You’re still crying, eyes puffy and red. You’re in jeans and sweatshirt, no make up, and your hair is pulled back in a messy bun. You’re still the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. You immediately embrace him, pressing your face against his chest and holding on to him in a tight grip.

“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I am.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll always come when you need me.”

It’s then that he realizes, standing in the doorway of a cheap motel off the interstate in Tulsa, that he can live without seeing Cal Thresher again but he can’t live without you.

***

You’re numb. That’s the only way you can describe the feeling of walking into a suite at the Mayo with Bill. You spent the day going through the suitcases that Cal packed for you and found he had included all your clothes, the jewelry that you arrived with from your parents, and fifteen thousand dollars cash. Those were all your belongings in the world. Your credit cards and checkbook were taken. Your phone lost cell service about an hour ago. All the vehicles you drove the last six years had been part of Cal’s fleet.

The world seems so big because you realize just how small you are.

“Here.” Bill takes your bag out of your hand and replaces it with a glass. “Drink that.”

You stare down into the amber liquid. Whiskey, of course. You drink it like a shot, throwing it down your throat and relishing in the burning sensation it leaves. It’s good to feel something right now. You look around the hotel room and realize it’s a suite, complete with a kitchenette, living room area, and what you assume is the bedroom further back in the space. It’s definitely a step up from where you had landed at the Oil City Motel.

“Thank you.” You know you should expand on that simple statement. Bill needs to know the depth of the gratitude you feel for him right now. He saved your horses. He picked you up from a dangerous part of town and brought you here. You remember that moment in his car on the drive over here, when he took hold of your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“We’re getting the rose bushes too. You, the horses, the roses, all of you are coming to KC until we figure out what to do next.”

You play those words back in your head and the big, intimidating world gets a little smaller, a little more comforting.

Bill brings a half-empty whiskey bottle over to you and adds more to the glass. “I told you to call me if you ever needed anything. You promised me would and you did. You kept your promise and I kept mine.” He takes a shot of whiskey straight from the bottle. “You go get a shower, watch Golden Girls or 90 Day Fiance, and get some sleep. I’ll pick you up after we get the horses.”

Now you understand why he left his bag by the door. “You’re not staying here?”

He gives you a slightly regretful look. “Not tonight. I’m staying down the hall.”

“What if I want you to stay?”

He cups your face, his thumb tracing over your cheekbone, and kisses you gently on the lips. “I would love nothing more than that, but I’m not going to have our first night together be under these circumstances.”

The circumstance is you thinking you owe him something and you realize, he’s not exactly wrong. “Cal knows we fucked in the barn.”

“Cal doesn’t know shit.” Bill gives you the most sinful smile. “Besides, that wasn’t fucking.”

You give him a slightly surprised look. “It wasn’t?”

He laughs. “No. That was just a warm-up.” He kisses you again, this time with more pressure, more want. Once again you can taste the whiskey he just drank, the smokey notes. He steps back and releases a shaky breath. “The fact you don’t know what a proper fucking feels like with a goddamn crime. One I’m going to fix. But not tonight, sweetheart.”

You watch him leave, the door closing very quietly behind him. Your face is still warm from the whiskey and the kiss but you find yourself smiling for the first time today. How ironic it took a divorce to provide you with an example of what genuine love looks like.

#bill bevilaqua x you #bill bevilaqua x reader #bill bevilaqua fic #bill bevilaqua #tulsa king fic

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munson-blurbs · 6 months ago

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@corrodedcoffinfest Day 5: On the Road Again

Word Count: 835/Rating: T/Pairing: Steddie if you squint/CW: slight Eddie x Steve/Tags: Eddie Munson, Gareth, Jeff, Grant, Steve Harrington

Divider credit to @silkholland

In retrospect, Eddie shouldn’t have ignored the clunking noise coming from the van’s engine. Though, in all fairness, he didn’t have the money to go to a mechanic and figure out the source.

He would have had the money after the gig Corroded Coffin booked for tonight—a show for a club’s grand opening out in Indianapolis—except they’re currently stranded on the side of the interstate. Smoke billows from the front of the van, the scent silently urging Eddie to light up a cigarette.

Or maybe that’s just the stress.

“We have forty minutes to get to the club,” he mutters, the cigarette muffling his words. “If we can get to a payphone, we can call Pat and see if she can put us on later—”

“That still doesn’t solve our problem of actually getting there,” Gareth interjects, earning a scowl from Eddie that he easily ignores. “You got Triple-A?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You got Triple-A?” He pitches his voice upwards in a nasal, mocking tone. “If I had Triple-A, I’d be hitching a ride in a tow truck right now.”

“So…do we just wait here for someone to pity us and drive us to the club?” Jeff shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking one sneakered foot against the gravel.

“Gonna need more than just a car to lug all of our shit,” Grant points out. “Like…a truck or something.”

Gareth crosses his arms. “Yeah, great idea. Let’s just hitchhike with a random trucker. That’s never ended poorly for anyone.”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll protect—”

“SHUT UP!” Eddie’s anger silences the other three band members. His thumbnail is pinched between his teeth as he paces back and forth. “I can’t think with you idiots dicking around.”

He runs a ringed hand through his curls. They’re still twenty miles out, but a faded blue sign ahead shows that there’s a truck stop a half-mile away. There’s probably a payphone there. He can call Pat, explain the situation, and ask if any of the other bands would pick them up.

Before he can relay the plans to the others, a pair of headlights illuminates the road. The car slows to a stop next to the broken-down van. Eddie squints, trying to make out the person sitting in the driver’s seat as they roll down the window.

“Eddie Munson?” A man’s voice, though puzzled, is familiar. Eddie recognizes the hair first—literally, The Hair.

Steve Harrington lowers his radio as he takes in the sight before him. “You guys break down or something?”

Eddie’s jadedness makes itself present before his brain can catch up. “Nah, just enjoying a warm summer night on the side of the highway.”

“Dude,” Jeff mumbles, elbowing him in the side.

Eddie sighs. As much as he despises the former King of Hawkins High, he can’t risk squandering the opportunity for a free ride. “Yeah, man,” he concedes. “We need to get to a payphone and find someone to get us to our gig.”

“I can take you.”

This has to be a joke. The last time Steve Harrington was nice to him was…never.

“It’s all the way in Indy—”

“I’m headed that way.”

“And we have all our stuff—”

“Trunk’s roomy.”

Grant grasps Eddie’s shoulder. “C’mon. We don’t have another choice.”

He’s right, and Eddie knows it. The Freak’s success lies in the hands of The Hair. He waits for the gotcha moment, half expecting Steve to drive off once they’ve managed to pile the two guitars, bass, and Gareth’s snare into the trunk, but that never happens.

Grant, Jeff, and Gareth scramble into the backseat, leaving Eddie to sit next to Steve.

Great.

They’re nearly at the club when Eddie can’t hold his tongue any longer. “So are you, like, a good dude now?” The words spill out. “Because the Steve I knew in high school would’ve left our sorry asses in the dust.”

Steve laughs, and Eddie finds himself relieved that no offense was taken. “Yeah, I was a jerk. Like, major ego.”

“So what happened?”

Steve pauses before responding. “Let’s just say it was my ass that got left in the dust, and it was one hell of a wake-up call.”

Eddie nods. “Well, we owe you one. Gas money, at least.”

“Nah, it’s cool. We’ll call it even after all of the shit I put you through in high school.”

Eddie thinks for a moment. “Can I buy you a drink at the club? If you were gonna stay, I mean. No pressure or anything.”

“Sure.” Steve smiles. “Figured you’d need me to stick around and give you a lift back anyway.”

“Y-Yeah. I mean, thanks.” Christ, why does kindness suddenly have Eddie unnerved?

“Think we might be writing more love songs soon,” Eddie hears Gareth whisper to Jeff. He’d reprimand the drummer if it wasn’t for two pesky facts:

One, he doesn’t want to call any more attention to the comment.

And two, he is, in fact, composing a mental list of words that rhyme with “hair.”

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #corroded coffin #corroded coffin fest #gareth emerson #jeff corroded coffin #grant corroded coffin #steve harrington

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spnhunter4life · 2 years ago

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Familiar Chapter 2

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: little bit of canon typical violence

A/N: This story was originally meant to be a one shot. But then I decided, "You know what? I'm not really happy with this ending. I'll just write one more little chapter to wrap things up." 🙄 Well guess what? If you've been following my work, you know that things always turn out longer than expected. So my 'little' wrap up chapter ended up being kind of long and had to be brought to a stopping point. So here's chapter 2 for you, and you can expect a third chapter as well! That will definitely be the last chapter though (she says with way less confidence than she would like).

Thanks to everyone who has liked, commented on, or reblogged the first chapter! I'm completely blown away by how many notes it's gotten. If you missed the first chapter, read it here!

Summary: Y/N comes back from a walk one day only to realize she can't remember where she was or what she was doing. The new case she and the boys were working must be abandoned in order to recover her memory.

Masterlist

Two months had passed since the shapeshifter hunt, and despite Sam’s encouragement, I still hadn’t said anything to Dean. He was making it extremely difficult for me to ignore my feelings for the older brother the way I always used to. Between his constant pointed looks and making up excuses to leave us alone together, I was about ready to snap.

My dreams about Dean were becoming more frequent too. With thoughts of him almost always on the forefront of my mind, he regularly featured in my dreams. I still had dreams like the one the shapeshifter had taunted me with, but these dreams had branched out into more sweet versions of Dean that left me longing for him even more.

I woke up from one such dream – one where Dean and I were in our very own house, snuggled up together on the couch, a movie playing in the background as we talked – in the back of the Impala. I looked around and saw that we were still on the interstate. We were on our way to Nebraska to check out a new case Sam had found. Four teenagers had shown up dead, all apparently drowned, but their bodies nowhere near water.

“How much further is it?” I asked.

“About 20 miles,” Dean answered.

I sighed and leaned my head against the window. Sam met my eyes in the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow in question. I just shook my head. He glanced at Dean and back at me, smiling at the small frown on my face this gesture caused. He was getting annoyingly good at figuring out when I had been dreaming about his brother.

By the time we got to a motel, I was irritated and in need of some time away from both brothers. I told them I was going to walk to the diner we saw about 10 blocks away and bring home food for everybody. It would give me time to clear my head. I really needed to find time to talk to Sam about stopping all the teasing and trying to be supportive. Even though it wasn’t his intention, it was only making things worse.

~~~~~

“There you are!” Dean’s relieved voice greeted me as soon as I walked in the door.

“Seriously, Y/N, what took you so long?” Sam chimed in. “We were getting worried. I think Dean was about ready to start a search party.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, not sure why they were so worked up. “I haven’t been gone that long.”

“It shouldn’t have taken you an hour and a half,” Dean argued. “Where’s the food?” He added almost as an afterthought.

“What food?”

“The whole reason you left was to get food,” Sam told me. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing,” I answered. Then I thought about it. What had I been doing? I was certain I hadn’t been gone for very long, but then, I realized that all I could remember was the walk back to the motel. “Just walking I guess? I don’t actually remember.”

“How can you not remember?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know!” I yelled, frustrated and confused.

“Ok, well what do you remember?” Sam asked.

“I remember… waking up in the Impala on the drive here. I guess I kind of remember getting to the motel. Other than that… I’ve got nothing.”

“Come here,” Dean said, gesturing for me to walk over to him.

“Why?” I wondered.

“Just come here.”

I walked over to him and he immediately began feeling around my head.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for a lump or some other injury,” he said, continuing his search.

“I think I’d know if I hit my head,” I told him, backing out of his reach.

“Apparently you’ve lost your memory. How are you supposed to know what happened?”

“If I’d been hit on the head hard enough for it to affect my memory, don’t you think I’d have a horrible headache at the very least?” I reasoned.

“Point taken. But clearly something happened. We need to figure out what.”

“Let’s just all head towards the diner,” Sam suggested. “We still need to eat, and maybe something on the way will jog Y/N’s memory.”

Nobody had any better ideas and he was right, we did still need to eat. So we went outside and started walking towards the diner. We’d made it six blocks when Sam stopped us. This particular part of town was the area where commercial buildings started being replaced by residential. There were multiple small businesses scattered throughout the neighborhood. Some buildings were obviously both people’s place of work and their home.

“Do you think you might have gone in there?” He asked, pointing at the music store across the street. Through the window I could see guitars spaced out on the wall, a row of pianos under them. I loved the piano. I grew up taking lessons and badly missed being able to play. It was an easy, surefire way for me to calm down and clear my head, a fact both brothers were aware of.

“You did seem stressed when you left,” Dean agreed. “I’d actually be surprised if you didn’t go in. And that would explain why you were gone for so long.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t explain my memory loss. Think about it. An hour and a half, just gone. What are the odds of me forgetting such a specific chunk of time? Someone had to have done this to me. We need to find out who. And why.”

“I agree. Which is why I think we should go in,” Dean said. “If we’re going to find answers, we need to retrace your steps. We have nothing else to go off of.”

We crossed the street and Sam led the way inside. A little bell above the door announced our arrival. I scanned the room, looking for anything familiar but coming up empty. I walked over to the line of pianos, lightly running my hand along the tops of each one I passed. I stopped at the fourth one in line. A blur of memories raced through my head, but nothing that would help solve my current memory loss problem.

This piano was very similar to the one I grew up playing. I remembered the hours spent on it, favorite songs learned and played enough times to become annoying to my family. The very same songs forgotten about when they became too easy and a new favorite came along. I placed my hands on the keys and played a few chords.

“Anything?” Dean asked. I just shook my head.

“Oh! You’re back!” Exclaimed a balding man who appeared out of the back room. He was probably in his early 50s and had a very friendly, cheerful demeanor. “You decided to buy this lovely instrument after all?”

“Uh, no. Unfortunately I have nowhere to keep a piano. No, I was just… passing by again and couldn’t resist,” I told him.

“Well, if circumstances ever change, I’d love to help you out!” He said.

I thanked him and placed my hands back on the keys, playing the opening notes to an old favorite song.

“Have you had a lot of business today?” I heard Sam ask.

“No, it’s been pretty slow today. But then, Mondays usually are,” the man answered easily.

“I figured it must be a slow day when you recognized Y/N so quickly,” Sam said, subtly fishing for information.

“Well she was the only one in the store at the time, but even if there had been 20 other people around, she plays so beautifully I could hardly have missed her.”

The conversation ended there. Or at least, I think it did. I lost myself in the song I was playing, and all other noise faded away. Once finished, I turned around to face the three men. The owner of the store was looking at me with the appreciation of a fellow musician. Sam looked impressed as he always did when he heard me play. Dean… I couldn’t quite read the look on his face. The closest word I could come up with to describe it is awe. But I knew that wasn’t right.

The store owner glanced at his watch and regretfully informed us it was closing time. He thanked us for coming in and I thanked him for letting me play. The three of us exited the store and started walking in the direction of the diner again.

We stopped in a couple more stores we passed that I might have gone into in an effort to destress. A small little used bookstore that was absolutely packed from wall to wall with books and an antique store, the kind that always reminded me of my history loving father and the countless stores he took me to growing up. Neither of these places sparked any memories either though, and as far as we could tell, I hadn’t stopped inside earlier.

“Well we have some explanation for where you were at least,” Sam said when we’d been seated at the diner.

“Yeah, but we still have no idea what happened to me. How are we supposed to get my memory back when we don’t even know where to start?”

“I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out. We always do,” Sam assured me. This wasn’t much of a comfort to me at the moment, and Dean seemed to realize that.

“We’re going to figure it out, Y/N. I promise. I’d never let anything happen to you. You’re our priority right now. Everything else gets dropped until we figure this out. You’re our new case. Have we ever not solved a case?” He asked.

I smiled, feeling more confident with my situation. He was right. There was nothing we couldn’t solve when we worked together.

“What’s our next step, then?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” Dean admitted.

“Our next step is going to the motel and getting some sleep,” Sam answered. “It’s getting late and we have no leads. Our best bet is to sleep on it and get a fresh start tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and your memories will be back in the morning.”

I didn’t really want to wait. I wanted to solve this now. But I knew Sam was right. We had nowhere to start, and being low on sleep wouldn’t help anybody, so I grudgingly agreed to this plan of action.

~~~~~

When I woke up the next morning, I kept my eyes closed and just laid there for a minute, working up the energy to actually get up. I heard the deep, even breathing of a sleeping person coming from the direction of the beds and the occasional shuffling of paper or clacking of a keyboard from the other side of the room.

I rolled over so I wasn’t facing the back of the couch and was greeted by a rare sight when I opened my eyes. The unmistakable sounds of research I’d heard were coming not from Sam as I’d assumed, but Dean, up before his brother, the notorious early riser.

“What time is it?” I asked as I sat up. He looked up at me.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted. “It’s… almost seven.”

“And Sam’s still sleeping?” I asked around a yawn. Dean still picked up on the disbelief in my voice.

“I know, right? Lazy ass. Of all days to sleep in.”

I chuckled at his annoyed teasing and went to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. When I stepped back into the room, dressed and teeth brushed, I saw Sam up and rifling through his duffle.

“Hey,” he said. “I don’t suppose you remember anything?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I sighed.

“Ok. Well I guess we should go get some breakfast and discuss next steps.”

“No need,” Dean interjected. “I already came up with our next step while you two were catching up on your beauty sleep.”

“You did?” I asked, surprised.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” He answered. Before he could continue, Sam interrupted.

“How long have you been up?”

“I don’t know. Couple hours.” He took a drink from a to go cup of coffee that I hadn’t even noticed he had.

Sam glanced at me, the look on his face one that he reserved for times he wanted to say ‘You two are so meant to be together’ but couldn’t say it out loud because Dean was in the room. He had said it to me on more than one occasion when Dean wasn’t around, which is how I know what the look translated to.

“Anyway,” Dean continued. He picked up a phone book that was laying open beside him. “I found this psychic in town that should be able to help us. I figured we’d stop by her place after breakfast.”

“A psychic? I don’t know, Dean.” The thought made me nervous. Most of the people who advertised themselves as psychics were phonies. And even if this one wasn’t – which I didn’t know how Dean could be sure of – what if she wasn’t able to help? What if she saw something I didn’t want her to see? I’m a pretty private person, and the thought of someone digging around in my head is incredibly unappealing.

“Hear me out,” he insisted. “I’ve done my research, ok? She’s the real deal.”

“How can you be sure?” Sam asked.

“Because. I’ve done my research,” Dean repeated. “Look,” he said, spinning the laptop to face us. It was open to a website for The Amazing Annabelle. “There are dozens of reviews on here, and every one of them says she was able to help. And look at this.”

He slowly scrolled down to the bottom of the page, showing off the dozens of symbols and sigils scattered throughout. A lot of them I recognized as protection from various supernatural beings. There were a lot that I didn’t recognize too. They clearly marked her as knowing about the world of supernatural creatures though. Unless she had just pulled together symbols she thought looked cool in order to give herself an air of authenticity.

“Alright, fine. But a few good reviews and a bunch of symbols used by hunters doesn’t exactly prove that she’s psychic,” Sam argued. I had to agree. I didn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings since he’d clearly put some time into this and I knew he was just trying to help, but psychics made me nervous. There was no way I would agree to go unless we knew for sure she was legit.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing. Which is why I talked to Bobby,” Dean responded. So this was the reason he was so confident. Bobby was highly respected among the hunter community. If he gave his approval on this Amazing Annabelle, then we really couldn’t doubt her abilities. “He said he’s not super familiar with her, but he has heard of her. She’s good at what she does and someone who can be trusted.”

“Ok,” I agreed. “Breakfast and then a visit to the psychic. I suppose the worst that can happen is she isn’t able to help.”

~~~~~

The first thing I noticed about Annabelle was how… normal she was. With the exception of Missouri, all the other psychics I’d ever seen were dressed in over the top outfits, their places decked out with all sorts of nonsense that was supposedly necessary for them to do their job.

If I’d seen this girl on the street, I would never have guessed what her occupation was. She was about our age and short, standing a full head below my 5’ 6” frame. And she was very pretty. I noticed both Sam and Dean’s immediate appreciation of her beauty. She was wearing white leggings and a purple shirt, her night black hair was in a messy ponytail that suited her very well, and her golden brown skin was flawless.

“What can I do for you?” She asked when she opened the door. Dean cleared his throat before answering.

“I’m Dean. This is Sam and Y/N. We were hoping you could help us with something.”

“I gathered that much,” she smiled. She opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

We stepped inside and she led us to a room that had an armchair and a comfortable looking couch as well as a round table with four chairs. She sat in the armchair so the three of us settled ourselves on the couch, Sam and Dean on either end and me between them.

“So. What can I help you with?” She asked again.

“Do you have any experience with trying to recover memories?” I asked.

“Some, yes,” she said. “It really depends on how the memories were lost. Some are easy to find. Some take work, but can still be found with patience. Some, like in the instance of an injury to the brain, can’t be recovered.”

“We don’t actually know what happened. That’s part of what I need to remember. Our assumption is that magic was involved though,” I informed her.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured me. “If you’ll come with me?” She stood and moved to the table, gesturing for me to sit across from her. The boys came and stood close by to watch.

“I’ll need some information from you in order to know where to look,” she said. “Give me as much detail as you can about these memories. How long ago was it? How much time are you missing? Is it relating to any specific object or person? Anything you can give me will help.”

“It was yesterday,” Sam explained. “She has an hour and a half chunk of time just missing and we have no clue why.”

“What were you doing when you lost your memory and how did you realize you’d lost it?”

“I was just walking from our motel to a diner to get some food. I only realized what happened because I couldn’t actually remember why I left the room and I definitely didn’t think I was gone that long.”

“Ok,” she said, taking my hands in hers. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and instructed me to do the same. “I need you to concentrate as hard as you can on the moments from that walk that you can remember.”

Then she chanted a couple lines of Latin and suddenly I was back on the sidewalk outside the music store. I was walking in the direction of the diner once again when I hit a block. It was like an invisible barrier I couldn’t pass. I tried to go around it and when that didn’t work, turned around to go the other way. No matter what I tried, I was stuck where I was.

And then I was back at the table with Annabelle, Sam and Dean hovering over my shoulders.

“Well?” Dean asked.

“I still don’t remember anything,” I told Annabelle.

“I know. Your memories were definitely blocked using magic. It’s a stronger magic than I was expecting. It’s up to you to decide how important it is that you get them back. If you want to continue, I’m going to have to put you into a trance in order to access them.”

“Is that dangerous?” Dean asked.

“It can be. But only if you don’t have a good anchor,” she answered.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“I’m going to have to send Y/N deep into her subconscious to find answers. Doing this requires an anchor, a tether to reality, someone to bring her back. Otherwise she could be stuck in her own subconscious with no way out."

“That’s not a problem. Both of them would be willing to do that,” I told her.

“I’m sure they would, but your anchor can’t be just anyone. It has to be someone with a very strong emotional connection. Normally I recommend close family members or significant others for this sort of process. I’m assuming they are neither?”

I hesitated. The answer, of course, was no. But I didn’t see how I couldn’t have a strong enough connection with them for this to work. Living the way we did – being with each other 24/7, trusting each other with our lives – created a very strong bond. Not to mention the way I felt about Dean. But maybe if it was one sided it wouldn’t work. And I wasn’t about to say that Dean was the safer bet because I felt our connection was stronger.

“Dean can do it,” Sam announced.

Dean and I both whipped our heads to look at him. I was sure the shock, irritation, and minor panic I could see on Dean’s face was mirrored on my own. I knew we were panicking for entirely different reasons though. For Dean it was worry that he wouldn’t be a strong enough connection for me. He didn’t want to risk me not coming back. For me it was worry that Sam was going to rat me out. And boy would we have words if he did.

“What?” He snapped at the death glares we were both now fixing on him. “You know it’s true. You’ve known Dean longer than you’ve known me. You two get along so well and know each other so well that if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d known each other your entire lives. I promise your emotional connection is more than strong enough to handle this. And I swear if either one of you tries to deny how close you are right now, I will not hesitate to punch you.”

I looked at Dean at the same moment he looked at me. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but his jaw and shoulders were set in determination.

“I can leave you alone to discuss it if you’d like,” Annabelle offered.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dean said. “It’s up to you of course – you’re the one taking the risk – but I’ll do my best to bring you back if you’re willing to trust me to do it. Otherwise we can try to find another way.”

“Of course I trust you. That’s not even a question,” I told him.

He watched me for a minute, weighing the sincerity of my words.

“Ok,” he said. “What do you need us to do?”

Annabelle stood up and moved to a shelf full of drawers on the edge of the room, opening different ones and pulling things out as she explained.

“As I already said, I’ll be putting Y/N into a deep trance. The magic is blocking your memories on a conscious level. Sending you into your subconscious will allow you to access them, but only while you’re in the trance. Once you’re awake, you’ll forget everything again.”

“Then how does this help us?” Sam asked.

Annabelle set everything she’d grabbed down on the table and then opened a cabinet underneath, grabbing a clear glass ball and setting it in the middle of the table.

“It helps, because you and I will be able to see everything she’s seeing while she’s in the trance.”

“What about me?” Dean asked.

“Since you’re the anchor, you’ll be inside her head too. You’ll be able to see and hear everything. Sam and I will only be able to see, so you’ll need to pay particular attention to things you hear as you’ll be the only one who knows those details.”

She began combining her ingredients, crushing leaves and mixing together powders and liquids.

“While she’s out, I need the two of you to be absolutely silent,” she told Sam and Dean. “You’ll both be fully aware of the noises happening around you. It could be tricky getting to the hidden memories, and distractions won’t help. Once we’ve found the information you’re looking for, we’ll need your anchor. At that point I need Dean – and only Dean – to start talking to her.”

She now had a liquidy brown paste in front of her. She dipped her finger into it and began drawing symbols on my forehead.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. Your voice, as well as your physical connection, will lead her back into consciousness.”

“Our physical connection?” I asked.

“Yes. You’ll need to be holding hands during this,” she said. Done with my forehead, she quickly drew an intricate swirling knot on the palm of each of my hands. She drew the same design on both of Dean’s palms and then worked on his forehead as well. I assumed the design was identical to mine. “Dean, if you’ll sit across from her, we can get started.”

She sat in one of the two empty chairs and gestured for Sam to sit in the last one.

“Alright. I need you to tell me everything you can remember from the time just before your memories disappeared. Once you’re under, you won’t be able to talk to me. The more details I have, the easier I can guide you to the missing time.”

“I already told you what I remember.”

“No. I need more. Tell me exactly what the last thing you remember is. Is it walking out the door? Did you get a ways before you forgot? What were you thinking? What were you feeling? What could you see, hear, smell? Give me everything you can remember.”

“Well… I don’t remember leaving the room. I kind of remember getting to the motel, but that’s a little hazy. I guess the clearest memory I have is waking up in the Impala about 15 minutes before we got to town.”

“Ok. Let’s start with that then. What details can you give me about that?” She prompted.

“I don’t know. Not much. We were in the car. On the interstate. Dean had Metallica playing. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to say,” I told her. If this is what it took to get my memories back then I was screwed. Coming up with little details from hazy memories wasn’t exactly easy.

“That’s ok. Don’t worry. How about how you were feeling? Can you remember that?”

I’d just had a dream about Dean. So a big mix of emotions. Happy, sad, longing, irritation. Irritation. Yeah. I definitely remembered being annoyed when we got to the motel.

“I was annoyed. When we got to the motel. I remember being annoyed. I imagine it’s why I left to get the food. And Dean said I seemed stressed.”

“Great!” Annabelle praised. “What else? Do you know why you were annoyed?”

“Um…” How to answer that truthfully but without giving anything away. I looked between Sam and Dean and remembered how Sam had picked up on what I’d dreamt about and silently teased me about it. “Just an argument with Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What argument?” Dean interjected. “You guys didn’t even talk to each other.”

“No, but just because we’re not as close as you two are doesn’t mean we can’t communicate without having to say anything,” Sam said.

Dean looked shocked. No doubt he was wondering how often we’d had these silent conversations. Little did he know, they were always about him.

“Ok. Anything else you can give me?” Annabelle asked.

“I know I went into a music store and stopped to play one of the pianos. I don’t actually remember doing it though. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got enough to work with. Remember, I need the two of you to stay quiet,” she told Sam and Dean. They both confirmed that they would. “Ok. Dean and Y/N, take each other’s hands and close your eyes.”

She waited for us to follow her instruction before continuing. A stream of Latin, different from the first time, fell from her lips and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into my subconscious. It felt a little like drifting off to sleep, so gradual that you’re somehow both aware and unaware of it at the same time.

~~~~~

Dean’s POV

As Annabelle’s chanting trailed off, a picture of my surroundings slowly began to take shape. I recognized it immediately. It was the inside of the Impala – from Y/N’s perspective. She was in the passenger side backseat, her usual place.

“Can you hear me Y/N?” Annabelle asked in a calm, soothing tone. “If you can hear me, I want you to get out of the car.”

I watched as my hand – No. Not mine. Y/N’s – reached for the handle and then she swung her legs out and stood up.

“Great. I’ll do my best to guide you to your forgotten memories, but this is mostly on you. If you seem stuck, I’ll help you figure out where to go, but otherwise I’ll stay quiet and let you figure things out for yourself. Now I need you to focus for me. I need you to think about the motel.”

The background around us flashed through a series of images. Different motels we’d stayed at over the years.

“The motel you’re staying at now,” Annabelle clarified. “The one you got to last night.”

The flashing images slowed and came to rest on one.

“That’s good, Y/N. Now I need you to focus on your emotions from last night. You got to the motel and were annoyed with Sam because you’d just had an argument.”

Y/N’s mind flashed back to the backseat of the Impala, Metallica’s Fade to Black playing through the speakers. She was looking at Sam in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows raised. I could tell by the view shifting back and forth that she was shaking her head. Sam looked quickly at me and then back to her, smiling. And then, memory over, we were back outside the motel.

That’s it? That was their argument? No wonder I’d missed it. What did it even mean? I caught myself just before I actually asked these questions out loud, remembering Annabelle’s instruction to stay silent.

“You wanted to take a walk, so you offered to go get food for everyone,” Annabelle continued. I watched this memory version of Y/N walk out the door. “You stopped at a music store along the way. Did you stop anywhere else?”

We all sat in silence as we watched Y/N walk for several blocks, never stopping. She looked around as she walked, frequently turning her head to look at different things. I remembered Annabelle telling me I would be the only one with access to the sounds in her memory and started paying attention. I heard the chirping of birds, the occasional car driving by, a bell ringing inside a store as someone opened the door. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Y/N walked past a group of teenagers and I listened in to their conversation. They were discussing the loss of their friends. The information I got from them was useless as far as Y/N was concerned, but I memorized their faces so we could question them once we’d helped Y/N and were ready to work the case we actually came here for.

She walked for another block and then stopped outside the music store. She stopped for a moment to look at it, and the world around me disappeared as she relived a different memory. I saw a child’s hands on the keys of a piano. I heard the music being played, a simple melody of Jingle Bells that the child was singing along to. I heard a grown man singing with her. The song ended and she looked up into the smiling face of the man I knew to be her father.

She crossed the street and walked into the store, heading straight for the pianos and trailing her fingers over them as she walked by, much as she had her second time through with me and Sam. She stopped at the same piano she did with us. Having seen the childhood memory, I now understood the draw to this particular instrument.

I listened as she played a complex set of chords that transitioned into a haunting melody. I was entranced, as I always was when she played. It was clear it was something she deeply enjoyed and missed. I was startled as Annabelle’s voice cut in over the music.

“What did you do next? What happened when you were done playing?” She asked. I suppose this part of the memory would be particularly boring to her and Sam, who couldn’t hear what I could. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly helping us find out what happened. We did need to keep moving, I supposed.

The memory jumped to the last few notes of what had to be a different song entirely. Then Y/N turned around and saw the store owner standing there, listening intently.

“You’re a wonderful pianist,” he told her.

“Oh, that? I was just messing around,” she mumbled at the compliment.

I listened closely to their conversation. While he was pretty low down on my suspect list, he was also technically the only person on that list as he was the only person we knew to have interacted with her. Nothing sparked my suspicions though.

He continued to praise her abilities, she continued to brush them aside, and he asked if she had any interest in buying the piano she’d been playing.

“I would be very happy to sell it to you,” he told her. “It’s not often I get to sell an instrument with the confidence it will be used and well loved.”

She politely turned down his offer and then told him she needed to be going, that her friends were expecting her to be back soon.

She left the store and continued her walk. Although I couldn’t actually feel her emotions, I could tell that playing had calmed her down significantly. There was just something about the way the world looked to her now.

She made it another half a block before she stopped. I could discern no reason for this. She simply stopped walking. After a few minutes it became apparent that something wasn’t right.

“This is where you got stuck the first time we tried finding your memories, isn’t it?” I heard Annabelle ask. “Whatever happened to block your memories, this is where it happened. The magic is still putting up a fight. I need you to push back. It can’t stop you from seeing. It’s all in your head that you can’t go any further. Just keep walking.”

We all waited for a couple minutes as she struggled with pushing past whatever spell was holding her in place.

“You can do it,” Annabelle encouraged. “You’re stronger than the magic is, I promise. Keep walking.”

Another minute passed and I knew she was winning because noises – which I hadn’t even realized had disappeared – started filtering through. It was like hearing something from underwater. Muffled, hard to make out, but definitely there. Then, all at once I could hear voices clearly and we were moving forward again.

I heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the alley in front of her. She quickly walked to it and then slowed to a stop just outside, listening. There was the unmistakable sound of chanting and underneath it, gurgling.

“Perfect,” she muttered under her breath. She reached into her boot to grab the silver knife she always had with her. “Wish I had my gun right about now.”

She peeked her head around and saw a teenage boy standing over another one. An endless stream of water was spewing out of the lips of the boy on the ground and he was choking on it. The chanting boy was facing her. The second she stepped into the alley she’d be spotted. But the drowning boy didn’t have time for her to find a better plan of attack.

She rushed in and the boy stopped his chanting when he saw her. He started a different chant, just a few words, and then he raised his arm, flinging her into the building beside her. The knife she’d been holding went flying out of her hand. I desperately wanted to run to help her, to make sure she was ok or to kill that boy. I didn’t know which desire was stronger, but I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. This was a memory. It was all in the past and I couldn’t change it now. I just had to watch and learn what I could. That’s how I would help her. Because now we had his face and we could track him down.

Hand still stretched out to hold her in place, he looked back to his original target, now desperately gasping for breath. He continued his chanting, and the poor boy on the ground only lasted a few more moments.

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N asked him. “What could he possibly have done to you to deserve that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” the boy snapped at her. “No one does.”

He started marching in her direction.

“You should have left it alone,” he snarled. “If you’d just kept walking, everything would be fine. But now you’ve seen too much. And you have to go too.”

He started up his chanting again, directing it at Y/N this time. I could hear water falling from her mouth and hitting the ground. I could hear the sound of her gurgling and choking. I couldn’t bear it. How had she gotten out of this?

“Thomas!” A sharp female voice called from the other end of the alley.

The chanting stopped as the boy looked in the direction of the voice. Y/N immediately started coughing the water out of her lungs and gasping for breath. She looked at the person who had spoken. She was a woman in her late 40s or early 50s at a guess and she was fuming.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked as she smacked him over the head. “Don’t you think you’ve left enough bodies behind? Do you want to attract the attention of a hunter?”

“She saw me! What was I supposed to do?” He protested.

“You were supposed to have not killed another person to begin with! We talked about this! I’ve covered your messes your whole life, but I can’t hide murdered teenagers. Especially when you’re as sloppy about it as you’ve been and especially when you don’t even tell me about it!”

The boy hung his head in shame. But not guilt. Apparently he’d been raised to do a better job of hiding his crimes. Witches. I hated them.

“Well I have to kill her now. She’s seen too much,” Thomas argued.

“No. We’re already far too at risk of hunters coming to town. You can’t add another person to the body count. Especially so close to your father’s store. Do you want him to find out it's you killing people? About the fact magic is real, and you use it? No. We’ll erase her memory and send her on her way. She won’t be a problem.”

The witch grabbed an already made hex bag out of her purse and placed it in Y/N’s immobilized hand, forcing her fingers to close around it. I knew that she would have been fighting to get free, but since she was completely stuck there were no visible indications of this. I had been in that position more than once and knew the frustration of being unable to move.

The boy’s mother started up her own chanting and the memory we were in started fading to black. It continued with Y/N standing just outside the music store. She seemed confused at first, looking around as if trying to get her bearings. Then she turned and headed back in the direction of the motel, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

“Ok,” Annabelle said. I’d forgotten she was even there. “It’s time to bring her back. Go ahead and talk to her, Dean.”

At the mention of my name, I saw my face flash through her mind. I was sitting beside her on a couch and smiling. I didn’t remember this particular day. It could have been on any given day at any random motel.

I wasn’t really sure what to say, and just babbling whatever words came into my head seemed silly, but getting her back was more important than my discomfort.

“Y/N,” I said, pausing to think of my next words. The memory in her head changed. Now, rather than seeing from her perspective, I was in an outsider’s point of view. And I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “What the hell is that?” I gasped out.

With a mix of excitement, shock, and confusion, I watched a guy who looked remarkably like me – although it couldn’t have been because I knew this had never happened before – lift Y/N in the air, spin her around a couple of times, and then set her back on her feet before leaning down to kiss her.

“I thought we were in her memories,” I said.

“You are,” Annabelle answered.

“No we’re not. We can’t be. That never happened.”

“Then it must be a memory of a dream. Focus, Dean,” Annabelle instructed. “Be her anchor. Bring her back.”

I tried to concentrate on my job, but all I could see was the image of us kissing playing over and over in my head.

“Can you please think of something else?” I practically begged her.

I was grateful when the memory – or whatever it was – flickered and changed into something else. Only this was no better. We were kissing again, only this time sitting on a very nice couch in a very nice room. It changed again. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala together, just the two of us. Kissing. Another change. I had Y/N pressed up against a wall. We were really kissing in this one.

It changed again and I breathed out a sigh of relief. She’d pulled up a random memory of her in one of her college classes, back before she quit school.

“Ok,” I breathed out and then cleared my throat. “Ok.” If I thought I didn’t know what to say before, I was really stuck now. What was I supposed to say to her after seeing all of that?

“Ok,” I said yet again. “You need to come back now. You have to find your way back. Sam and I are waiting for you.”

“It’s not going to work,” Annabelle said. “She’s trying too hard to keep her memories in control to focus on finding her way out of the trance. Y/N, don’t worry about what memories surface during this. Your only job is to come out of it. Listen to Dean and don’t worry about anything else. And Dean. Don’t worry about finding the right words. Say whatever comes naturally. That’s what she needs.”

Say what comes naturally. This would be a lot easier if I didn’t know Sam was listening to my every word. But Y/N was counting on me. I took a deep breath to prepare myself.

I said her name again. The memory of the classroom flickered to one of me in the driver’s seat of the Impala, singing along to Led Zeppelin. Y/N was in the back, singing with me and Sam was smiling in the passenger seat, refusing to join in.

“If I’m being honest with you, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say right now. But you trusted me to get you out of this and I’ll be damned if I let you down. So I need you to do your part too. Find your way out of this. Come back to us.”

Memories flashed by as she searched for a way back into consciousness. I saw memories of real things, memories I shared. Us in the car, in motel rooms, on hunts. Her patching up a knife wound on my bicep, me holding her close and carrying her after her run in with that shapeshifter. There were more memories of things I didn’t recognize too. More dreams, I suppose. Us out on what could only be interpreted as a date. Us curled up together in bed, talking. Us dancing together in an empty parking lot, a slow song playing from Baby’s speakers. And more dreams of us kissing in various scenarios.

It would have been so easy to get lost in all of these memories, in seeing myself the way she saw me. And in wondering how she could apparently dream about me so much, apparently have feelings for me, without me ever knowing. But I made myself focus on being her anchor.

“Do you know how glad I am that you’re a part of my life? I sometimes wonder how I ever managed without you. And you know you can’t leave me and Sam on our own. We wouldn’t last without you. We’d probably kill each other.”

I watched as the countless swirling memories of us switched to ones of me and Sam. She remembered more than one instance that proved me wrong. She thought about all the times Sam and I had leaned on each other and kept the other going. She was essentially telling me that while she appreciated the sentiment, she knew we’d be fine without her.

“Alright, fine,” I said. “Maybe we’d get by fine on our own. That doesn’t mean either of us want to. You’re too important to us. So come back to us,” I repeated.

She seemed to be flipping through her memories, as if looking for the right one to bring her back.

“Come back to me.”

I became the focus again, a memory of me standing outside on a bright sunny day and laughing at something she’d said flitting into her mind. But she pushed it away to start looking again.

“Don’t worry about the memories, remember?” I told her. “Just focus on me. Listen to my voice. Try to feel my hands,” I encouraged her. Different memories floated by again, pulled up at random by my words, or maybe the tone of my voice. I didn’t know. They almost all circled around just the two of us though. More dreams of us kissing flashed by.

The shock I felt at these images was lessening and I was beginning to be more comfortable with them. So, following Annabelle’s advice, I let myself respond naturally. I let go of the tight leash I usually kept on my natural inclination to flirt. It wasn’t something I’d ever done with her, not wanting to scare her away. If only I’d known how she really felt.

“You know,” I drawled, wishing I could flash her a smile. “If you wanted to kiss me so badly, you only had to say something. We can definitely do something about that. But only if you come back to me.”

There was a rush of memories flipping by so quickly I couldn’t make anything out in any of them. Then everything went black and I became aware of my own body again. I tentatively opened my eyes and saw Y/N sitting across from me, Sam and Annabelle on either side of us.

I smiled a little. I wanted to know if she’d found her way out so suddenly out of embarrassment and a desire to escape or excitement and anticipation.

“Don’t forget, she won’t remember any of what just happened,” Annabelle warned me.

“I know,” I said. That wasn’t a problem. It was a lot easier to take a shot when you could see clearly. And I could finally see everything.

Chapter 3

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#familiar #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader insert #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader

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devilat-thedoor · 1 year ago

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What Is and What Should Never Be Ch. 1

A/N: The parts in this fic are going to be on the shorter side compared to my other one, but that allows me to get them out quicker. This first chapter is really just laying the foundation for the story. I hope you enjoy, babes! and as always, feedback is appreciated🤍 P.S. This is all fictional, straight from my imagination. Please don't take it too seriously💖

Word Count: 9k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Smut(none yet, but for future reference), Mentions of alcoholism/addiction, Mentions of death. Reader Discretion Advised.

So if you wake up with the sunrise and all your dreams are still as new // And happiness is what you need so bad, well girl, the answer lies with you

“Bell, are we really doing this?” Your grin was beaming as you twisted the key in the ignition, hearing the engine rumble. You rolled the windows down, letting the late March wind breeze through the car.

Your best friend, Bellamy, turned to you from her spot in the passenger seat, “I mean, unless you want to carry all of our stuff back into that shithole…” She jutted her thumb out the window, towards the shabby apartment building that, up until 15 minutes ago, you had called home. “Then we are absolutely doing this!” You laughed, pulling away from the curb as she hung half of her body out the car to shout a goodbye to your hometown. “We’re fucking out of here! See you later, Phil!” Bellamy had her middle fingers in the air as the wind swept through her jet black hair.

Reaching over, you grabbed her shirt to yank her back in the window, “Bellamy, the groundhog can’t hear you!” Your hand went back to the steering wheel as she settled back into her seat and kicked her feet up on the dashboard. “Don’t get too comfortable, you’re not gonna fall asleep on me 20 minutes into the drive.”

She rolled her eyes and gave you a lazy smile, “Fall asleep on you, sweet pea? Never.” She grabbed the aux cord, plugging it into her phone. “Why did we decide to drive again? We could’ve left everything to the moving company and just booked a flight… This is gonna take for-ev-er.” She flicked her sunglasses down over her eyes with a whine.

“Bell, how often are we gonna get to road trip across the country? Think of all the places we’ll get to see!” You tried to sound as positive as you could but, truth be told, you weren’t very excited about the drive either. The speakers came to life when she finally decided on a playlist, opening with House of the Rising Sun by The Animals. “Once we’re on I-80, the drive will go so fast, babe.”

She dropped her feet back to the floor, turning to face you again, “Whatever you say, Y/N.” Digging into the grocery bag full of snacks below her, she grabbed a pack of gummy bears and ripped them open, “God, I just can’t wait to be out of here and in the sun… And our new apartment?” Bellamy curled her legs up into her seat, turning to face you, “Are you okay with me taking the Master bedroom? I really want the en suite bathroom.”

You glanced over to see her pouting her lip at you, “You can have whatever room you want.” Looking back to the road, you turned the music down a bit, “If you told me I had to sleep in a tent on the balcony, I would do it.” It sounded like a joke, but you were partially serious.

“You know you’d be sharing my bed if there was no other place for you, Y/N.” She gave you a pointed look and slouched back into her seat. “We would just need a kind of ‘sock on the door’ signal, yanno?”

Craning your neck to look behind you, you slowly merged onto the interstate, “When has a signal ever worked before, Bellamy?” It was early enough in the morning that traffic was mostly clear, allowing you to set the cruise control to an even 70mph. “Remember Seth? The guy I met at sophomore year IUPatty’s? I left the shamrock beads on the doorknob and that didn’t stop you from barging into the dorm!”

She held her hands up, “In my defense, there were beads scattered through the hallway. How was I supposed to know you put them there intentionally?” Her shoulders raised in a shrug as she remembered back, “And I saved you! Your fake moans weren’t even believable, you weren’t getting off!”

You broke out into a cackle, “Oh my god, Bell! Fuck, you’re actually right.” She stuck her tongue out at you, “He was so hot, but had no rhythm at all… it was just anticlimactic. No pun intended.” You were both in a fit of laughter when your friend popped up in her seat.

“Babe, turn it up!” Bellamy yelled over the wind whipping through the windows as Rocky Mountain Way by Joe Walsh began playing. “It’s our song!”

You reached for the volume dial with a grin, cranking it up as you both started singing along. “…Out to pasture, think it’s safe to say, time to open fiiiire…” You held your closed fist to your mouth, using it as a makeshift microphone, “And we don’t need the ladies crying cause the story’s sad…”

Holding your invisible microphone out to your friend, she sang the next few lines into it “‘Cause the rocky mountain way is better than the way we had…” The two of you went back and forth, singing loudly through your giggling. You listened as Bellamy vocalized the entire solo at the end of the song, finishing with a deep inhale to catch her breath.

The next song came on as you both settled down and you just drove in a comfortable silence for a while. You stopped for food and gas while passing through Toledo and continued on, only stopping again once you were right outside of Chicago. “I’m sick of driving, Bellamy. It’s your turn.” You whined at her as you pulled the car into a gas station.

“I’ve got maybe five or six hours in me.” She pushed her door open, grabbing her wallet from her bag to head into the gas station, “I do not want to be in the car anymore, so let’s plan on stopping in Des Moines… If traffic stays clear, we should make it by at least eleven. Midnight at the latest.” You followed her into the convenience store, listening to her lay out the plans. “When we get back in the car, look for a motel or something cheap we can stay in for tonight and then we’ll get back on the road early tomorrow.”

You both headed to the restroom to relieve yourselves before grabbing a few energy drinks and bottles of water and paying for your gas. “Sounds good, babe.” After filling the tank, you climbed into the passenger seat while your friend got behind the wheel and began browsing for a place to rest.

“Hey, Bell…” You’d been back on the road for another two hours, going back between music and podcasts, when you turned to her.

She glanced at you with a soft smile, “Yes, sweet pea?”

You were toying with your fingers in your lap, “I haven’t actually said it yet, but thank you.” She gave you a questioning look, prompting you to elaborate, “For bringing me along with you… to San Francisco. I will never be able to make this up to you.” You wanted to make sure she knew how genuinely grateful you were. All you’ve dreamed of, since you were 15, was getting out of your hometown and escaping the living hell that was your life. You thought that the day you turned 18, you’d pack up and leave to head for the west coast, get as far away as you could to avoid the chance of ending up like your mother. But after graduation and without money, your only option to get out of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania was going to college. Bellamy made you apply to IUP with her and when you both got in, it seemed like things wouldn’t be so bad anymore. Even though the university was only about 40 minutes from your hometown, it was far enough away that you didn’t have to deal with the stress of living with your parents anymore. Your dad was always amazing. He taught you everything you knew, from how to cook to how to change your own brakes and oil. All he ever wanted was to make sure you were capable of taking care of yourself when the time came for you to be on your own and that time came a lot sooner than either of you could have anticipated.

It was your junior year in college and you were so close to getting your Bachelor’s in Anthropology. Your classes kept you busy enough that you didn’t have time for partying or getting into trouble. All of your focus went into your school work in the hopes that once you finished, you would find a great job in doing something you loved and make enough money to go wherever you wanted. But the perfect bubble you’d put yourself in popped that November when you went home for Thanksgiving break.

Your mother’s alcohol addiction wasn’t anything new to you. You would come home from middle school to find her passed out on the sofa, empty bottle littering the coffee table. Some nights she would come into your room to crawl in bed with you, crying that she wanted to be better and that she was going to try to stop drinking. You would let her hold you and cry until your dad would come in and gently walk her back to their bedroom. The smell of her vodka soaked breath is something that would surely stick with you for the rest of your life. Dad would try his hardest to hide how bad her problem really was, but you knew. It started to get worse when you got into high school. She would get drunk and belligerent, screaming and breaking things. You’d gotten accustomed to staying at Bellamy’s. Her father and yours were best friends and that’s how you and Bell ended up as close as you were. On the nights your mother was particularly bad, Bell’s dad, Mr. Cole, would get a call from your dad and within minutes, you would be climbing into the backseat of his car with your best friend to stay with her family for a couple of nights. You begged your dad to leave her, to just let her drink herself rotten and move you and him some place far away where she couldn’t affect you anymore, but he refused. Always telling you that she needed the both of you to get her through it, that she didn’t have the strength to stop drinking on her own. Part of you knew that he didn’t even believe that himself, but you looked up to him more than anybody and trusted that he knew what was best. Still, you couldn’t stand to live in the same house as her, so when you got accepted to the same college as Bellamy, it was like life was finally giving you a break.

Then that Thanksgiving day came crashing down and everything else went with it. You and Bellamy made the short drive home the day before and you dropped her off at her house before heading to yours. Your dad was at the door, waiting to greet you as you pulled in and he rushed out to wrap you in a bear hug and help you with your belongings. You were dreading the kind of state you would find your mom in, but to your surprise, she seemed sober and completely normal. She pulled you into an embrace and you could still smell the faint hint of liquor on her, but her behavior had you fooled into thinking it was just your imagination. You were having a good time, helping her prep the apple pie so it would be ready to bake for the holiday while listening to music. She asked you how your classes were going and she seemed genuinely interested as you explained your course load to her. It was a welcome change to how conversations normally went with her.

As the day dwindled to early evening, you started to see a change in her. She was getting sloppy and she stumbled through the house and you noticed her eyes starting to droop, but it wasn’t until she started throwing a fit about not having enough wine for the guests that you’d be having over for Thanksgiving that you realized she must have been sneaking drinks throughout the night. You watched as your dad tried to reason with her and calm her down, but she just kept yelling, throwing things around the kitchen until he finally gave in and offered to drive her to the store so they could pick up a few more bottles. You pleaded with him to stay, trying to convince him that he was only enabling her addiction by catering to her temper tantrums, but he brushed you off, wrapping you in hi arms and placing a firm kiss to the top of your head before grabbing his jacket and ushering your mother out the door. You didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time you would ever hug your father. After they started the drive into town, in a drunken fit of anger, your mom would lash out and begin hitting your dad, causing him to run off of the road and into the woods. He was pronounced DOA by the first responders and she would walk away from it without a scratch. Nobody knew that it was her fault, but after his funeral, when she was already half a bottle deep, she confessed it to you. You left her alone that night and never looked back and she ended up moving south to live with family. You couldn’t forgive her and if you never saw her another day in your life, it would still be too soon.

The depression you fell into forced you to drop out of college. You moved back to your hometown and got a job at the local diner, Punxsy Phil’s, to pay rent. Bellamy moved back with you and spent her last year and half commuting to school before graduating with her Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Now, two years later at 26, Bell was offered a job at a tech company. They were based out of Silicon Valley but they wanted her to head a team in their San Francisco office. When they offered to pay for her housing for a year until she got her footing, she sweet talked them into a two bedroom apartment and asked you to go with her. Of course you jumped at the opportunity and now here you were, driving across the country to start your new life and it was all thanks to your best and oldest friend.

“Y/N, I wouldn’t have even thought about taking this job if there wasn’t a chance that you could come with me.” She reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it softly, “I know how hard the past few years have been, but we’re starting a new chapter and it’s us, babe. It’s always been you and me.” A grin formed on her face as she put her hand back on the steering wheel, “We’re gonna fucking rule San Fransisco like Christina and Courtney in The Sweetest Thing.” She paused before adding, “But promise me you won’t fall in love with a guy you just met overnight!”

You leaned over the center console, hugging her tightly and planting a giant peck on her cheek, “I fucking love you, Bell.” You were both laughing as she pushed you away.

“I love you more, sweet pea.”

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It was early Sunday morning when you finally pulled into the parking lot or your new apartment building in the Mission Bay neighborhood. It stood maybe six stories high and each apartment had its own balcony. You and Bellamy were on the third floor, number 308, and she held the keys in her fist as you both stepped out of the car. The excitement couldn’t be contained as you made it up the elevator and she unlocked the door, pushing through it to see your new home in person for the first time. Stepping into the apartment, you both rushed around, exploring the living space. It was quaint and small, but it was perfect for the two of you. You each had your own bathroom and the bedrooms were a decent size. The sliding door that led out to the balcony caught your attention at the same time as her and you were running to slide it open and see the view of the city. “Bell, is this even real?” You gazed out in awe, seeing all the buildings and businesses that surrounded. You couldn’t wait to see what it looked like at nighttime with the city lights. Just as your friend went to answer you, there was a knock on the apartment door that was left wide open and you turned to see the movers standing there. You both looked at one another with large smiles, “Let’s turn this place into home, B.”

“I think it’ll look better against that wall.” Bellamy placed her hand on the man’s arm, pointing to the opposite side of the living room. “Could you just move it one more time?” You bit your lips together, trying to stifle a laugh as she batted her lashes at him. The movers made it to your new home right after you had and your best friend was quick to put them to work. You stood back, allowing her to give directions with flirty giggles, directing the men where to put everything.

Finding it best to stay out of her way, you decided to occupy yourself with something else, “Hey, hun!” You called across the room to Bellamy, “I’m gonna start unpacking the kitchen.” She gave you a thumbs up without breaking concentration on the movers. Walking into the tiny kitchen, you pulled open the first box you saw to reveal all of your plates and bowls, wrapped in old newspapers. You decided on a cabinet and began stacking the dishes, one by one, discarding the papers into the empty box as you went. Next was the cups and mugs then tupperware and pots and pans. After a little over an hour, you had the kitchen completely unpacked with everything in its rightful place.

As you stood in the middle of the space breaking down all of the boxes, your friend came through the doorway, “Everything is officially moved in.” You watched as she padded to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water. She shook a bottle in the air, silently asking if you wanted one, and tossed it after you gave a nod, “And, courtesy of those three very sweet men, the living room is already assembled.” Bellamy gave a proud smile as she cracked open her bottle. “We just have to fill the bookshelf and hang some art on the walls or something.” She shrugged, taking a large gulp of water.

You took a few chugs of your own and checked the time on your phone, pausing the music that was playing. “It’s only 1 o’clock, we’re making pretty good time. You wanna go find lunch somewhere?” Bellamy’s phone began ringing as she nodded her head and you watched her walk back into the living to retrieve it. After a minute you left the kitchen as well, going into your bedroom to find a change of clothes in the mountain of boxes. The apartment already came with beds and bedroom furniture and you dug through one box, pulling out the new sheets and comforter that you’d purchased and tossed them on the mattress.

“Soooo…” Bellamy startled you as she popped her head in the door frame, “Don’t hate me…” She gave an apologetic look.

You dropped the clothes you were holding to the bed and let out a sigh, “We’re not getting lunch, are we?”

She came into the room, cupping your face with a pout, “I’m sorry, Y/N! Please don’t be mad.” You pulled out of her hold, rolling your eyes, “That was my new boss that just called and he wants me to go down to headquarters to meet everyone.”

You weren’t mad, you knew how important this job was to her, “It’s fine, Bell. Take my keys, they’re on the kitchen counter.” You pointed out the door.

A high pitched squeal left her mouth and she wrapped you in an incredibly tight hug, “I’ll make this up to you, I swear!” She went to her own bedroom to change clothes and you decided you would still go out and get food, but you would also take the time to look at who may be hiring in the area. You pulled on a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a black baby tee that read ‘farm fresh peaches’ with two of the bright fruits printed over the chest. Once satisfied with your outfit, you dug through your laptop case to pull out a copy of your resumé and a separate sheet of paper with a solid list of references, and tucked them into your bag just as Bellamy came back to your doorway, “I love you and I’ll be back soon!”

“Leave me your keys, Bell!” You called as she disappeared back out into the apartment, “I’m gonna go explore the neighborhood a little bit and you’ll have my keys, so leave yours for me.” She nodded, digging her key ring from her purse and dropping them on the counter.

Ten minutes later, you were locking up and riding the elevator to the ground floor. You stepped out on the street, looking left and right to decide which direction you wanted to go in. Opting for the left, you started on your journey, unsure of where you might end up, with a goal of finding lunch in mind. You’d lost count of how many blocks you walked when you landed on Market Street. The entire length of it was lined with stores and bars and restaurants, it was unlike anything you’d see back home. Sure, Pittsburgh was a great city to visit, but it didn’t compare to this in your eyes. You scoped out a few different food spots as you walked along the sidewalk, Some with potential to eat at, others with potential for work, but you continued on, lost in the bustle of everything going on around you until something caught your eye. A bright, neon open sign shined bright in a storefront window and illuminated the ‘Now Hiring’ sign to its right. It was a piece of paper that looked like someone just scribbled the note on with thick, black sharpie, and taped it to the window as a joke. Your gaze traveled up to the hanging sign above the door, Highway Tunes Records, before dropping back to the windows and seeing the art and posters adorning the walls inside. Your eyes fell upon a psychedelic poster, made up of colorful and abstract swirls that came together to unmistakably make Jimi Hendrix. An audible gasp escaped and you found yourself pulling the door open and shuffling inside the store and straight over to the poster. You were entranced as you stared up at it, unable to tear your eyes away until a voice stole your attention.

“You a Hendrix fan?” Turning to find whoever the voice came from, you were met with a gleaming set of teeth, stretched into a mesmerizing grin, with the tiniest gap between the front two.

You returned his smile, murmuring a response once you realized you’d been staring at him, “Uh… Yeah. He was my dad’s favorite musician.” You glanced back up at the framed poster as he replied.

He was standing incredibly close, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, “Well, he is great… So!” His exclamation made you jump and he laughed, “Sorry, it’s been a slow day and you’re probably our fifth customer since opening at noon.” You looked down at your phone to check the time, 2:49pm, and gave him a sympathetic smile. You knew how boring a slow day at work could be. “Anyways… What brings you into HIghway Tunes? Looking for a specific album?”

“Actually, that is what brought me in here.” You pointed up to the Jimi poster, “It felt like it was calling me in.” You shook your head, aware of how weird that sounded, but before you could try to reword it, the man was already talking.

“Oh. Well, unfortunately, I can’t sell you that specific piece.” He let out a huff, turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction. Your brow furrowed as you watched him go and he turned around, gesturing for you to follow him, “That one is part of Jake’s personal collection.” He started after you fell into step behind him, “He’d kill me if I sold it and then he’d hunt you down and kill you too… But these…” He stopped in front of a giant bin, filled with rolled up posters, and flipped open the binder above it, “These are all on the market.”

You watched as he thumbed the pages, looking over the inventory of music posters. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Full lips, bordered by a tasteful bit of facial hair. A wild mess of curls that covered his forehead and ears, only leaving the small, silver hoops piercing his lobes to stick out. He had a constant smile on his face and you almost didn’t want to open your mouth out of fear that it would go away, “I’m not… really looking to buy anything.” You watched the grin falter, but he quickly recovered it, “I’m sorry. I just don’t have the spare money right now to spend on things that aren’t necessities.” You scrunched your nose with a shrug.

He turned to face you, looking you up and down as if he was sizing you up, “You’re not from around here.” Suddenly feeling self conscious, you crossed your arms over your chest, looking away from him, “Hey, no. I didn’t mean any offense… Just that the only people who come in here are either regulars or tourists and you’re certainly not a regular.”

“How do you know I’m not a regular?” You gave him a pointed look as you pursed your lips. “Maybe you just always miss me when I come in?”

“Naah. Nobody comes in here without me or Jakey seeing them and I would not forget you.” He slapped his palm over his face whilst shaking his head, “Sorry, that… That sounded creepy. I just meant… never mind.” A bright blush started to overtake his cheeks.

He was so charming and handsome, you couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled from your mouth and if Bellamy were there, she’d accuse you of flirting. “Okay, I did just move here, but tell you what… As soon as I get a job, I promise to become a regular.” You flashed him a sweet smile before turning around and heading for the door, “Don’t forget my face.”

“Woah, wait!” He called after you and you stopped to face him again, a questioning lift to your brows, as he jogged the short distance across the store, “You need a job? We’re hiring.” He sounded desperate as he continued, “The pay is good, I swear. You’ll get great hours and everyone here is chill!”

You looked around at the shop, really taking in the eccentric environment. His smile alone was enticing you to say yes and you couldn’t fight against it, “So… is this an official interview?” You joked and saw his shoulders visibly relax.

He looked around the store as though he was searching for something, “Actually, let me find Jake. We might be able to interview you right now.” He went in the opposite direction from you, giving you no time to decline before heading for the checkout counter, but he stopped, “I’m Josh, by the way!” He yelled from where he stood

You called out to him, still planted by the front door, “I’m Y/N!” His smile seemed to grow brighter as he repeated your name back to you.

Just as he was about to push through the door behind the counter, it flung open to reveal another man behind it, “What’s with all the fucking yelling?” From where you stood, it looked like he was gritting his teeth at Josh. His hair was long, landing past his shoulders, and he wore a pair of dark sunglasses. He peered over Josh’s shoulder to get a look at you and you saw his lips moving before the curly headed boy turned and waved you towards them.

You swallowed your nerves and began shuffling towards them. Your eyes drifted to the ceiling to see it plastered with vinyls, all painted over with intricate and colorful artwork. As you stepped up to the counter, your eyes fell on the men, “This place is a lot like Trax.” They both gave you strange looks, prompting you to clarify, “The record store from Pretty In Pink? With Molly Ringwald?” The confusion didn’t leave their faces as you stared at them, “Seriously? That’s like, my favorite movie. It’s an iconic John Hughes masterpiece! The scene when Duckie sings Otis Redding?” You continued to gush despite how clueless they clearly were.

Josh’s face lit up into a grin as he listened to you, but the other guy remained stoic, almost like he was bored, “Well it’s a good thing you don’t need to know movies to work in a music store.” You couldn’t help the look of shock on your face at his pompous tone.

But you were never one to let a man make you feel small, “No, you’re right, but… if I’m not mistaken, there’s an entire shelf over there,” You pointed to your left with a cocky smile, “that is loaded with movie soundtracks… And if you ask me, music and film go hand and hand.” Looking back at him, you gave an innocent shrug, “But you’re the boss, so who am I to argue?” He was taken aback by your quip but you could’ve sworn you saw a hint of a smirk on his lips as he eyed you. You directed your attention back to Josh, “Maybe I’m not a good fit… but I hope you find someone who will be.” You were about to turn and leave, but he stopped you.

“No, don’t leave!” He slapped the other man’s arm, “Jake, don’t be a jackass. We need the help and I think she’ll be great.” He was practically pleading.

“Ahh, you’re Jake…” You finally connected the dots, “The same Jake that would hunt me down and kill me if I made off with that Hendrix poster over there?” You nodded towards the frame that hung on the wall. “So maybe you don’t know classic movies, but you clearly have good taste in music.” It was an attempt at flattery and it seemed to work because he finally cracked a genuine smile.

His eyes flashed to the poster and came back to you, “What’s your favorite Jimi album? Song?” He was trying to quiz you as if he didn’t believe you were really a fan of the musician. “Answer carefully, peach.”

Your gaze dropped to your shirt before you narrowed your eyes at him, “Axis: Bold As Love by the Experience and Red House… Specifically the Woodstock live recording.” You raised your eyebrow, waiting for a snide remark, “And I have a name…” You almost forgot that Josh was standing beside him until he cleared his throat.

He clapped his hands together with a laugh, “See, Jakey. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t fit in perfectly.”

Jake leaned forward, resting his elbows on the counter, “Why is Red House your favorite song?” The question made you smile.

“It’s all very bluesy. The guitar riff and solo, his lyrics… The first time my dad played that song, I was completely enthralled.” You were speaking genuinely and judging by the way he was nodding, he knew it.

He turned to Josh, silently communicating to him with a look. You watched them, trying to decipher what was being discussed, but as you studied their expressions, you noticed how similar they looked. Josh’s eyes locked with yours and he answered your question before you could ask it, “Yeah, we’re twins, Y/N.” He chuckled softly, “It’s always the first thing people ask…” You mumbled an apology, casting your eyes to the floor, “Nothing to be sorry for. But good news! You’re hired!”

“What?” You looked at him in shock, “I- But- Don’t you have to…ask more questions?” How did they decide that with just a series of facial expressions to one another? “Do you need references or… I don’t know, it’s never been this easy to get a job, there’s gotta be a catch…”

Jake disappeared through the door behind him for a moment and reemerged holding a t-shirt, “The catch is, you gotta be here bright and early tomorrow to start training.” He tossed the tee at you and slid a piece of paper over the counter, “Take this home, fill it out, and bring it back with you. I’ll see you here at 9am, peach.” He turned around, going back through the door and closing it behind him.

“I promise, he’s not as unpleasant as he makes himself seem.” Josh came around the corner to stand beside you and pulled the paper from the counter, “We’ll start your wages at $20.25 per hour. I just need you to fill out this application with all your basic information. Yanno, name, number, address, social. Then we’ll be able to get you on payroll asap.” He handed you the page with his bright grin that you were growing to really enjoy.

“I’ll take your word for it.” You stuffed the t-shirt and application into your tote bag, “So he’s training me tomorrow?” The distaste was evident in the way you forced a frown, “Are you gonna be around to soften that blow?” You were begging the universe for a yes, but wound up disappointed.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, “Mondays are my days off…” He gave an apologetic smile, “Jake’s actually really cool, Y/N. And I’ll make sure he goes easy on you.” As if he could sense the anxiety radiating from you, he offered a compromise, “Alright, I have some shit to get done tomorrow, but I’ll stop in around lunch to see how everything’s going. Okay?” He flashed that damn smile and you were sold.

“Thank you, Josh.” Your phone began to ring in your back pocket and you pulled it out, muttering a sorry to him as you answered it, “Hey, Bell.” You listened to her speak for a few moments, “No, I haven’t… I’m fucking starving, though. You wanna come pick me up?...Uhhh, I’m not sure, it’s a record store on Market Street…Yeah, I’ll just drop a pin… Perfect. Love you too, babe.” You hung up, sending her your location, and stuffed the phone back into your pocket. “Sorry about that.”

“Was that your boyfriend?” The question caught you off guard, but the apprehension on his face threw you off even more.

You shook your head, partially to answer his question, but also to clear your mind enough to form a response, “Umm. No. No, that was Bell- Bellamy.” You paused before elaborating further, “She’s my best friend. We moved down here together…”

He let out a breath that you didn’t realize he was holding in, “Oh! Cool.” The silence stretched between you and you weren’t sure if he felt as awkward as you did.

Your phone dinged, saving you from the tension, and you pulled it back out to see a text from your friend, “She’s here, so I’m gonna go…” You pointed towards the door before slowly turning away from him. Just as you reached the door, you looked back to see him watching you and tried to conceal the blush creeping onto your cheeks, “Any quick food recommendations? We haven’t eaten yet today… Oh! Preferably cheap?”

“If you’re looking for something close, Super Duper Burgers is great. Definitely check their seasonal menu.” He ran his fingers over his mustache, drawing your attention to his lips, “If you're willing to go a little further up the Market, Taqueria Cancun has some solid, authentic Mexican tacos. There’s a ton of sushi joints.”

“How about pizza? I’m kind of craving a greasy slice.” You knew Bellamy was waiting for you, but for some reason, you didn’t want to leave.

“Ahh, a girl after my own heart.” Josh pulled his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds, “Slice House. Hands down, best pizza. You gotta try the Drunken Italian.” He pinched his fingers together, giving an exaggerated chef’s kiss, “The vodka sauce is fucking revolutionary.” You held eye contact for longer than you cared to admit, but then the corner of his lip curled into a smirk, “You better get going, your friend is waiting.”

“Yeah, I guess I should… See you tomorrow?” He nodded his head, forcing his curls to sway as he waved goodbye. “Bye, Josh.” You pushed through the door and found Bellamy waiting in your car at the curb.

She pulled her purse from the passenger seat as you slid in and handed your phone off with the directions to the pizza place, “Why am I not surprised that you already managed to find a music store?” She shifted the car into drive, hitting the blinker to pull out.

“Bell, I literally just walked in there and they hired me. I start tomorrow.” You almost didn’t believe the words that poured out of your mouth. “It was the weirdest thing… I walked by and there was this Jimi Hendrix poster, and you remember how much my dad loved Jimi?” She nodded, waiting for you to continue, “When I saw it, it just drew me in. I don’t know how to explain it. But I was standing there and this guy came up to me, Josh, and-.”

“Mhmm…” Bellamy cut you off with a knowing smirk, “Josh, huh?”

You scoffed at her, “No. Don’t start, it’s not even like that.” You didn’t defend any further, just proceeded with your story, “Anyways… He offered me a job and he and his brother interviewed me right on the spot. I start tomorrow morning and get this, Twenty dollars an hour, Bell.”

She gawked at you, eyes wide, “Twenty? That’s over the minimum wage here. Did you suck his dick to get it?” She laughed at her own joke as you lightly hit her arm.

“You’re an asshole, yanno?” You sat back in your seat, laughing with her. “He is pretty cute, I can’t lie… He just seems like a really fun person and he’s always smiling. Like the brightest smile you’d ever see... But his brother, Jake, was sort of insufferable.” You were chewing on your lip as she glanced at you.

“Insufferable how?” She turned to you fully as the car stopped at a red light.

You thought back to the short exchange you’d had with him, “He was arrogant as hell, for starters.” Her eyes went back to the road as she let off the brake and you continued, “He didn’t even bother to learn my name, just kept calling me ‘peach.’ You wouldn’t even know they were twins if they didn’t look identical.” You stared out the window, looking at the buildings to find Slice House.

Bellamy spotted the restaurant at the same time you did, swinging the car into the first available spot she could find, “Twins? Oh, you’re fucking joking, Y/N. We haven’t even lived here a full day!” She cut the engine as she glared at you, “How old are they?”

“I don’t know? Our age, maybe a little older… Why does it matter?” You were toying with your fingers, something you did when you were nervous. “Don’t give me that damn look, Bellamy! It’s just a job. You’re not gonna find some hidden context in this.” Pushing the car door open, you stepped out to end the conversation.

She was popping out of her side right after you, “Okay, babe. Whatever you say…” You knew she had more to say but she dropped the topic for the time being as you both walked into the restaurant.

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You stood right outside of the door, looking at your reflection in the glass to straighten your shirt out. It was 8:48am and you were trying to work up the courage to go in, mentally preparing yourself to be trained by Jake. You were too focused on your reflection to see that he was coming across the store. The door pushed open and you jumped back with a yelp, “Did you plan on coming in for your shift or were you gonna spend another 15 minutes fixing your shirt?” He was holding the door, waiting for you to go inside.

You moved past him, rolling your eyes, “You know, you just make the atmosphere so inviting. How could I not want to be here?” You bit your tongue, aware of how much attitude you’d just given the man who is technically your boss. “Sorry, I-.” You turned back to face him but he was already breezing by you.

“You’re kind of a fucking brat…” You followed behind him, ready to argue his claim, but he was already moving on as though he’d said nothing at all, “Here. We got a long morning ahead of us and you’re gonna need to keep up with me.” He grabbed a cup from beside the register, handing it to you, and pointed to the door behind him, “There’s cream and sugar in the office if you need it, don’t take forever.” Taking the hot coffee without a word, you stepped around him to go into the office. When you came back, he was leaning against the counter, chin propped on his fist, “You fill that paper out, peach?”

Digging into your tote, you pulled the paper out and slapped it down in front of him, “That’s not my name, it’s-.”

“Y/N. I know” His lips curled into a conceited smirk and, had he not been walking away, you might have slapped it right off of his face, “Peach feels more fitting.” He waved his hand, beckoning you to follow him.

You fell into step as he walked towards the front of the store, “You saw fruit on my shirt and ran with it. Very original idea, can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” The look he had when he whipped around to face you made you clamp your mouth shut, but you couldn’t help the tingle you felt through your body at his response.

Jake was glaring at you with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place, “You’ve got a mouth on you.” He was pointing a finger at you, “and I can think of a few different ways to shut it.” Your jaw practically hit the floor as you stared at him and he flashed a devilish smile, knowing that he’d left you speechless. He turned away again, leading you to a display near the front door, “Pay attention.” You nodded silently as he started mapping things out for you, “This rack is all new release vinyls. We change most of them out weekly, depending on what kind of album drops there are.” He started walking towards the middle of the store, walking between the rows of shelves, “Everything is sorted by genre first and then alphabetical order.” You listened intently as he sped through the rundown, “We keep bargain bins down here.” He pulled open a cabinet door below one of the tables, revealing crates full of vinyls with torn and worn sleeves, “These are all used and donated, we sell them for $3 a piece or we do 10 for $10. It’s hit or miss, some work, some don’t.” Closing the cabinet, he moved to a different part of the store. You trailed quietly alongside him, soaking up all of the information he was spewing. After about 20 minutes, he’d looped you both back to the front, “Let’s see if you’ve kept up…” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting to see if you’d maintained any of the knowledge.

“Okay…” You took a deep breath, “Here we have new releases. They get updated weekly, unless there aren’t any good drops.” You continued throughout the space, pouring everything he’d given you back out to him, until you made it to the checkout counter, “Limited Edition vinyls are kept behind the counter, the new inventory delivery comes every Friday morning at 8am sharp, and I think that’s everything…?”

Jake was nodding his head, surprisingly impressed, “Not bad, peach.” He glanced at the clock on the wall, “We got a half hour before we open at 11.” He plucked your application from the counter where you’d left it, “I’m gonna get through some paperwork. You can-” He was cut off by the sound of footsteps coming from the back of the store. “Liv? I thought we wouldn’t see you until summer?” He greeted the short, blonde girl.

She had a stereotypical valley girl accent, “Finished my semester early, figured you guys needed me more than UCLA.” She gave him a smile that looked like she wanted to devour him. Her eyes flashed to you dismissively before flying back to Jake, “You here by yourself? I can clock in and help out.”

You shifted on your feet, feeling out of place, and Jake took notice, “Not alone today, I have peach, here, to help out.” He nodded towards you.

“Peach?” She finally took the time to really look you over, “Were your parents hippies or something?”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, not sure how to respond, “Uhh. No, that’s not… My name is Y/N.” You reach out for a handshake, out of respect, but she just stared at your extended hand.

“Cool. I’m Olivia.” And just like that, she directed her attention back to Jake, “Can you fit me on the schedule this week?” She pushed her bottom lip out, looking like a toddler begging for candy, “I know you guys miss me.”

He shook his head with a faint smile, “I’ll talk to Josh.” He left it at that, turning to you, “Take that box and start putting the shit where it goes.” He pointed at the box on the floor.

“Aye aye, captain.” You saluted him with a smile and picked the box up.

A chuckle escaped his mouth and until that moment, you thought he was incapable of feeling joy, “I’ll be in the office if you need anything.” He started to walk around the counter, “I’ll let you know about the schedule, Liv.” He slipped through the door and closed it behind him, leaving you with the girl.

To avoid conversation, you gripped the box in your arms and lifted it to counter to begin sorting through it. Pulling out a stack of vinyls, you carried them through the store, fitting them into their rightful places. You hadn’t realized Olivia was following you until her low, grating voice creeped into your ears, “So…How did you get a job here?” She was watching you carefully, almost like she was waiting for you to make a mistake, “Jake is suuuper picky about who he hires.”

You looked at the last vinyl in the stack you were carrying, “Uhm, I just came in here yesterday to look at something and Josh offered me the job.” Moving through the tables, you went to the Country section and tucked the album away, “Jake gave me a shirt and told me to be here at 9am, so here I am.”

She was standing so close to you that you almost ran into her as you turned around to retrieve more from the box, “Here you are…” She sounded annoyed, but you ignored it as you pushed past her.

You went about your business for the next several minutes, finishing the task that Jake had given you, as she lingered through the store, watching you work while she pretended to browse the music. You pulled the empty box from the counter, ready to ask your boss what he wanted you to do next, when the bell on the front door chimed. You turned around to see a man come in and go straight to the New Release rack. He perused for a few moments before moving to the tables to search through the records. You expected Jake to emerge from the office, but he never did. After a few minutes of the guy looking entirely lost in his search, you took a deep breath and made your way over to him. Your eyes flicked to Olivia to see her staring at you, a cocky grin on her face. “Hi, can I help you find something, hun?” You put on your best customer service smile as he turned to face you.

“Actually yeah…” He looked like he was maybe in his early twenties and he seemed nervous, “I’m looking for something for my dad. He just bought himself a record player, but he doesn’t have any records for it.” He gave a shrug, “I don’t really know where to start here.”

This wasn’t as scary as you thought it would be, “Okay, do you know what kind of music he likes? Any specific artist or band?” You waited patiently for him to answer.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, tapping the screen a few times, and held it up to show you, “This is a band right? I think he likes them.” It was a picture of a man, probably his father, wearing a Led Zeppelin tour t-shirt.

Your eyes went back to his face, giving him another sweet grin, “Yeah. Zeppelin’s a great band. Your dad has great taste.” You moved around him to walk him over to the appropriate shelves, “We should have a ton of their stuff… Do you want anything specific?” You had a feeling that he wouldn’t know what to choose.

“I- Well, what would you recommend?” He stood by while you flicked through the selection, “Which one is the best?”

“That’s a tricky question.” You pulled a few vinyls from the display, holding them up one by one, “So, Zep one is a safe choice. It’s their first studio album, really opened up the door for them, plus it’s got a couple really great blues covers.” You slid that one to the back of your stack to reveal the next, “ Two is also good. You get Whole Lotta Love, Ramble On, Heartbreaker.” He was nodding as you pulled your final option forward, “This one is my personal favorite.” You held up the album, showing him the cover with the peeling paint and the old man carrying a bundle of sticks, “I kind of skipped over three, but Zoso…This is their fourth studio album, and arguably the best.” You handed it to the boy to examine, “Going to California is probably my favorite song of all time. But it’s also got Stairway to Heaven and When the Levee Breaks. Black Dog. If your dad is a Led Zeppelin fan, then he’ll definitely appreciate this.”

“You know what, I’ll take this one and the first one you showed me.” You handed him the first album before turning to put the remaining one back on the shelf. He was smiling wide as he took it from you, “So are you like a music expert or something?”

You giggled at his question, “I wouldn’t say expert… Just really appreciative of what’s good.” You were staring at his light blue eyes, almost entranced in them when Jake barked your name from the counter. You jumped, whipping around to look at him with wide eyes. He held his hand up, waving for you to go to him, “Gimme one minute.” You called out to him and went to turn back to the man in front of you, but Jake’s voice rang out louder.

“No. Right now, Y/N.” He was leaning his hands on the countertop, glaring in your direction, but his eyes weren’t on you.

You muttered an apology to the blue-eyed boy, “I’m sorry, I’ll be right back.” You shuffled across the store, embarrassed at how he’d just spoken to you in front of your first customer, but also pissed at how he treated you like you were an insolent child. You stood in front of him, whisper-yelling to avoid further embarrassment, “What the hell, Jake? What did I do?” You looked around, realizing that Olivia was gone.

“You’re here to work, not flirt.” There was an edge to his tone that you couldn’t fully decipher.

“What?” You stared at him in shock, “I wasn’t- I was making a sale! Yanno? What you hired me to do…” Was this conversation even real?

He stepped out from behind the counter, “Go wait in the office, I’ll finish your sale.” You moved to try and stop him but his voice was dangerously low, stopping you in your tracks, “Office, Y/N. I’ll carry you in there myself if I have to.” He turned on his heel, walking towards the customer without another word, and you found yourself obeying his command to wait in the office.

Pushing through the door, you looked around the small space before closing it and dropping into a chair. You were highly considering just quitting as soon as he came in, but at the same time, you didn’t want to. Everything was so confusing… Why did he accuse you of flirting when he wasn’t even there? And why did the possibility of you flirting make him so mad? You sunk further into your seat, pondering your own questions, but the one you needed an answer for most; Why did you so easily bend to his will? You were pulled from your thoughts by the door opening.

“Good to know you’re capable of obeying orders, peach…”

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turcott3 · 1 year ago

Text

margaret

tj hughes x fem! reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, fluff!!

when you know you know

masterlist

as you finished packing your bags, you hung up the facetime and turned to your fellow team girlfriend, alexis.

“i’m so excited for this trip, i still feel so new to the group, it’s only been 4 months so it’ll definitely be nerve wracking.” you admit to her

“we all love you so much, you have nothing to worry about. we all hoped tj could land a girl like you.”

“you’re too nice stop it.” you say, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“no i’m being serious. he’s a good, sweet, and responsible guy. we’re so glad he has you, and then we also get to have you. it’s a win win.” she smiles as you hug her.

“are you sure it’s okay that tj and i have our own car? it’s a long drive, id feel bad if only we traveled alone.”

“yes babe, it’s totally fine.” she laughs exiting your room.

“goodnight lex.” you call out.

“good night y/n.” she yells back.

early the next morning, the lot of cars arrive outside to pick the girls up.

“i’ll see you when we get there.” alexis smiles climbing into the vehicle with rutger and kayleigh.

“you ready to go?” tj asks, appearing next to you leaving the car running.

“yep.” you say smiling.

“me too.” he replies kissing you on the cheek and grabbing your luggage.

“you don’t have to carry that.”

“well i’m not letting you so, it doesn’t matter.” he replies back and you roll your eyes jokingly.

“catch yall in pcb.” frank says rolling the window down before they take off down the street. tj opens the car door for you to get in and puts on the playlist you two made together.

“damn, long drive.” you scoff looking at the screen.

“yeah well at least it’s just me and you.” he says placing a light hand on your thigh.

“teej?”

“yeah baby?”

“can we stop? i need a snack.”

“yeah of course, look at the exit signs and let me know.” he says without hesitation.

“this next one has a nice gas station.”

“perfect.” he says, pulling off the long interstate. you enter the gas station grabbing a few snacks and drinks for the ride. you place them all on the counter and they get rung in.

“your total is 11.84. cash or card?” the woman asks.

“card.” tj interrupts stepping up beside you.

“tj i-“

“don’t care, i’m paying.” he smirks before quickly pecking you on the side of the head causing you to giggle. the pair returns to the car, snacks in hand, for the remainder of their 15 hour ride.

“is it okay if i take a nap? i woke up at 4 and it’s really ruining my vibe right now.” you ask.

“yeah of course, however long you need.”

“okay i just wanted to make sure, didn’t wanna leave you lonely.”

“i’m never lonely with you.” he smiles turning to look at you which you gladly return. you shut your eyes with your head leaned up against the window, praying this long drive could be over soon so you could enjoy time with everyone. you were quick to slip from reality soon after you shut your eyes. after what seemed like a few short minutes you woke up and saw the clock had gone from 12 pm to 3 pm.

“woah i slept for a long time.” you say quietly breaking the silence.

“good morning sunshine, how’d you sleep?” he giggles.

“oh i slept wonderfully.” you reply stretching out.

“we only have about 7 more hours to go.”

“ONLY?” you say in disbelief, this ride was endless.

“yeah i know, it’s taking forever. they’re like a solid hour ahead of us.” tj says.

“wow we’re gonna be fashionably late.”

“that’s because we’re awesome.” he turns to you smirking.

“totally.”

those 7 hours passed dreadfully and you’d finally arrived. you see the condo building approaching.

“finally.” you sigh as tj passes it without hesitation.

“isn’t that where we’re staying?”

“no baby, that’s where they’re staying.” he smirks.

“what do you mean they’re staying?”

“my aunt owns a house a little further down the coast. she’s letting us stay there.” he says placing a hand back onto your leg.

“you’re joking?”

“not joking.”

“who else is there?”

“it’s just for us y/n.”

“like we have a whole house just for me and you?” you ask and he nods.

“does everyone already-“

“yes, they know. i told them.” he quickly replies.

“they weren’t mad?”

“no of course not. we’ll still see them.” he giggles, squeezing your leg slightly. you pull into the driveway of a gorgeous beach house. as soon as the car is off, you open the door and inhale the salty scent of the ocean.

“it’s beautiful.” you say.

“i’m glad you like it.” he says grabbing your luggage and carrying it up the front steps. he unlocks the door, opening it for you to enter. you observe all of the cute and modern coastal decorations that littered the entryway.

“where’s my room?” you ask.

“you mean our room?” he says and you turn your head.

“this is our first big trip together, of course we’re sharing a room. i don’t wanna spend a split second away from you.” he says hugging you from behind.

“oh i’m so excited. i’m gonna go unpack.” you say grabbing onto his arms.

“sounds good, i’m gonna go grab my stuff.” he says pulling away and exiting the house back out to the car.

after you finished unpacking everything, it was late. you’d spent the whole day in the car and just finished unpacking at a ripe 10:30 pm. you step into the bathroom, pushing your hair back with your big tacky bow headband to wash your face. once your skincare was complete, you walk back into the room to tj already tucked in, waiting for you to join him.

“i love that pink headband you use to wash your face. it’s so goofy.” he says as you tuck yourself under the covers.

“it keeps my hair out of my face and i look great in it.”

“touché to that.” he giggles reaching over to pull his lamp string.

“goodnight my love.” he says kissing you sweetly on the lips.

“goodnight tj.” you smile, rolling over and drifting off into a peaceful sleep. when you wake up the next morning, the bed is cold and empty.

“what the-“ you say looking over at the alarm clock that read 8:30. you get out of bed and slide on your slippers, waltzing into the bathroom to put your contacts in. you make your way out of the bathroom and follow the strong sent of something being cooked, which lead you to the kitchen. you’re met with tj leaned over the stove in his boxers and your bright pink bow headband.

“good morning.” he smiles at you.

“good morning my beautiful bow head.” you giggle walking into the kitchen to kiss him on the cheek.

“hey it really does keep my hair out of my face.”

“and you look great in it.” you say, just like he had last night.

“honestly, can you order me one? cards in my wallet on the counter.”

“yes teej, i’ll order you a pink bow headband.” you laugh.

“i’m being fully serious i hope you know.” he says turning to you smirking.

“you are very hard to take serious in that bow babe.” you state, pulling up amazon on your phone.

“i’m a very serious person, haven’t you noticed.” he scoffs, returning his focus to the pancake that was ready to flip. you order him his prized bow headband and pull yourself up onto the counter to watch him hard at work. once he’s finished his cooking, the two of you eat and get ready for a day alone at the beach.

“white or purple?” you say holding up your bikinis.

“whichever one shows more of your butt.” he says, his words muffled by his toothbrush. you took note of the grey swim shorts he was wearing and how they complimented his skin tone. he was practically irresistible.

“lord.” you laugh, setting the white one back in your suitcase.

“what? is it a crime to stare at my girlfriends butt?” he asks, spitting the remaining toothpaste out.

“no tj, it’s not.” you laugh, changing into your swimsuit.

“look at you, do a spin.” he smiles getting a good look at you. you do as your told and approach him, his arms wrapping around you and sliding down your back onto your ass as your arms linked around his neck.

“you’re so beautiful.” he smiles.

“all you babe.” you reply kissing him and pulling away.

“got everything ready?” he asks, picking up the two chairs.

“yup, i’m ready to go.” you say, leading the pair out the door. after a few hours spent on the beach together, you come back to the beach house to get ready to go to dinner with everyone.

“first day at the beach, check.” you say setting everything down on the deck, out of breath from the hellish walk back.

“new favorite thing, going to the beach with you.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your warm sunkissed cheek.

“baby, i’m getting in the shower.” you call out from the bathroom before starting the water. once it’s a temperature you liked, you step in, washing away all the remaining sand. completely relaxing in the shower. once you were fully rinsed, you step out and wrap your body in a fluffy white towel before hearing tj’s voice. you could tell he was on the phone so you tip toe over to the door, pressing your ear up to it, trying to see who he could be talking to.

“it’s been great mom, the weather is so nice.” he says, you not being able to hear the other end of the conversation.

“she’s been incredible. couldn’t ask for a better woman.” he says before pausing for a good while.

“i really do think i love her mom. i don’t think i’ve ever felt this way about-“ he begins and you back away from the door, not wanting to spoil anything for yourself.

“he loves me?” you whisper to yourself, your heart growing giddy at the fact that you felt the exact same way. you just never knew when to say it. you finished drying off, blowing out your hair and exiting the bathroom.

“bathrooms free if you wanna shower.” you smile at the strawberry blonde boy.

“perfect, i’ll be out in like two seconds okay?” he states.

“okay.” you blush as he kisses you on the head in passing.

the two of you got ready for dinner, listening to your playlist.

“which button up?” he asks holding up two of the shirts you’d bought him.

“i like the white one, we’ll be matchy matchy.” you laugh, applying a layer of aquaphor. he reappears in the doorway in his shirt and gives you a little twirl.

“you look great babe.” you giggle stepping towards him and attaching your lips to his.

“i’ll never look better than my lady. look at you, pure perfection.” he says, grabbing your hand and twirling you around.

“okay baby, let’s go, don’t wanna be late.” he says grabbing the keys and opening the front door for you.

“so where is it we’re going?” you ask buckling your seatbelt.

“well we have to make a pit stop first since the sun is setting. told them to give us 30 more minutes.” he winks at you.

“tj we are not fu-“

“that is not what i was implying, chill out.” he laughs, placing a hand in your lap and you interlock your fingers with his. he drives to a beach just down the road and pulls into a parking lot. you meet at the front of the car, him reaching his hand out to yours and you gladly accept. you both remove your shoes before walking down the short path to a beach that was completely empty.

“this is so peaceful.” you say as you get further out onto the beach.

“my mom and i used to come here every first sunset of our trips.” he smiles, stopping in his tracks.

“it’s beautiful tj.” you say looking around. he grabs onto your other hand to focus your attention onto him.

“just like you.” he smirks.

“stop you’re gonna make me blush or whatever.” you giggle together.

“listen y/n. we’re been together for 5 months 2 weeks and 4 days. those have been the best 5 months 2 weeks and 4 days of my life all because of you baby. you make my everyday so much brighter. i couldn’t stand living another day without telling you how much i love you. i love you so much i don’t even have to proper words to express it. you’re so beautiful, gracious, funny, sweet, kind. the list could go on forever. you’re fucking incredible. i love you so much.” he says, not losing your eye contact a single time, even as the tears welted up, eventually spilling over.

“i love you tj, i love you so much.” you say hugging onto the boy.

“why are you crying honey?” he giggles holding onto you tightly.

“i’ve never felt this way before. which sounds so tacky but everything just feels right with you. no icks, no complaints, nothing. you’re perfect i love you.” you say grabbing onto his face and bringing his lips to yours.

“you think we can still make it to dinner in time?” he giggles pulling away and wiping your tears delicately with his thumbs, bringing his lips to yours again for a short moment.

“i think we can, come on.” you say grabbing his hand and running back to the car. you make it back completely out of breath and quickly rinse your feet to get in the car, speeding off down the road to get to dinner. once the two of you finally arrive, you enter the restaurant to everyone sitting and waiting for the two of you.

“sorry for the hold up guys.” tj laughs pulling your chair out for you before he takes a seat beside you, placing an arm around your waist.

“and no before any of you fuckers ask, we were not having sex in the parking lot.” you say pointing at duker and rutger.

“hey i wasn’t gonna say anything.” dylan says defensively.

“he’s right, but i definitely was.” rutger says and kayleigh smacks him on the arm.

“what was the hold up then hm?” mark asks as frank nudges tj’s arm.

“you guys are acting like i proposed or something.” he laughs.

“well?” mark repeats.

“i told her i loved her.” he admits and the whole table smiles and rutger hands dylan a 20.

“yall bet on us?” you laugh.

“sure did.” duker smirks as rutger flips him off.

“did you say it back though?” alexis asks from beside frank.

“yes i sure did.” you smirk, leaning on tj’s shoulder as his hand brushed gently up and down your side.

“new official lovers have entered the group, we’re getting crazy now guys.” ethan says causing the whole table to laugh. this trip turned out to be the best thing that could’ve happened this semester, you were there with your best friends and what turned out to be the only guy you’ve ever truly loved.

(sorry for the tacky ending, didn’t know how to round it off😍)

#tj hughes #umich imagine #umich hockey #rutger mcgroarty #mark estapa #ethan edwards #dylan duke #turcs’ talk #tj hughes x reader

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