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ohbueckers · 25 days ago

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HEART OF A WOMAN. she has choices she should make i think she’s choosing it right now.

09, CHAPTER NINE. LET ME GO.

ju speaks. i sincerely apologize for the delay on this. i still think it’s poorly written despite the fact that i rewrote it so many times but i needed to get it out lol. i’m breaking hearts but i promise you’ll be somewhat satisfied with the ending. features some more crash out paige but more in a player’s prayer type of way… alsooo please vote on this. pairing. wnba!paige bueckers x female!oc. warnings. angst, maya appearance (she comes in peace)???

flashback, july 2022.

it feels like another lifetime—back when everything was louder, sharper. we were at that point where the distance between us wasn’t just physical but emotional, and it seemed like every call was another argument.

i almost didn’t make it to nai’s birthday in la that year. she was already stuck there because of her internship, and it was the one time she really wanted me there. we’d fought for days leading up to it, about God knows what, as usual. it always started with something small, like a misunderstanding or something i said without thinking, and then it snowballed. the kind of arguments that made you feel like you were suffocating in your own words, digging your heels in just to avoid apologizing.

but then… it was her birthday, and i couldn’t stand the thought of missing it, even though we couldn’t seem to stay on the same page. i almost said, fuck it, and didn’t go. but i knew i would regret it, so i pulled myself together and got on that damn plane.

i was in connecticut, locked into summer workouts with the team, drowning in exhaustion, trying to get through the motions and keep myself healthy. i kept putting off calling her, though, too busy wallowing in the mess we’d made, thinking about how far away we were, how it was easier to fight than make up.

but then that morning came. i called her in the middle of my frustration, half-hoping she’d just pick up and yell at me because, hell, i didn’t know how else to make things right. and when she did, when she finally answered and said she was waiting for me, everything felt like it clicked into place again.

we barely got to speak that day. the others were around, laughing, singing, but all i could do was watch her. nai. there she was, sitting across from me, a quiet storm in the way she held herself. i could’ve sworn everything about her felt like home in that moment, even when it was all so messed up. and when they started singing “happy birthday,” she was still just the only damn thing i could focus on. how she looked. how she sounded. how she made everything feel like it was meant to be, even when we were fighting for our lives.

i was supposed to be done with her. more importantly, she was supposed to be done with me. i told myself that a million times. but the truth was, the more she tried to leave it all behind, the harder it got to stay away.

and all i could think was, i’m not done with you. i’m never going to be done with you.

present day, july 2025.

“you still watching her?”

rickea’s voice broke through, her sneakers squeaking against the court as i dribbled my ball against the hardwood almost absentmindedly. it’s a game day. crew is here, some of the team, but kea, cam and i had been about an hour earlier than shoot around just for the hell of it.

“i’m not watching her,” i snapped back with a low grunt, lining up my jumper. it bounced right off the rim, almost to taunt me, and i didn’t miss the way rickea’s smirk widened. my head isn’t in this game. it probably won’t be by the time seven rolls around either.

i was watching. too hard. nai had noticed only once, and instead of waving me off or sending me a smile, she looked away and pretended it didn’t even happen.

“yeah, okay. so how’d you know i was talking about nai?”

i shot kea a side glance, annoyed that she’d even said her name out loud. “got her there,” cam chimed in, strolling over from the other side of the court with her own ball. she leaned against it, watching me with an all-too-knowing grin. “you two been a little quiet lately.”

i hesitated for just a second. not long enough for anyone else to notice—at least, i hoped not—but just enough to think about the silence between nai and me. quiet wasn’t even the word for it. it was like being stuck in a purgatory i couldn’t escape, knowing exactly what i wanted to say but being too damn scared to say it.

i hated how easily my thoughts drifted to her, even now, with kea and cam prying at me. i could still feel the last conversation we had replaying in my head—the way her words had cut deeper than she probably even realized. she probably didn’t even mean for them to. she said it like she didn’t. no more half-steps.

i know what i want.

i don’t know if i’m capable of getting it and keeping it.

and i couldn’t keep expecting her to wait around for me to figure it out.

“it’s called being busy,” i shot back, offering a forced smile that would hopefully get them off my back. it didn’t. “you know, prepping for a game? the thing we’re all ‘posed to be doing right now?”

“yeah, we’re busy,” cam said, dragging out the word like it was some great revelation. “but you’re distracted, and we know why.” she raised an eyebrow, looking like she was having way too much fun at my expense. “when was the last time you two even talked?”

“oh, wait,” kea interjected, putting a hand to her ear like she was trying to remember something. “was it that awkward ‘hi’ in the tunnel yesterday? or did you manage a full sentence this time?”

“ha, ha,” i deadpanned, dribbling my ball almost aggressively to drown them out. “check up, bro. let’s see who’s focused,” i said with the smuggest smile on my face, tossing the ball to rickea and squaring up in front of her.

“you’ve got a lot of nerve for someone who been bricking shots all morning,” kea pointed an accusatory finger at me, and i rolled my eyes, pulling up my joggers.

“less talk.”

she jab-stepped left, then tried to blow past me, but i was ready, cutting her off with a quick shuffle to the side. “nah,” i mumbled, poking the ball loose and snagging it before she could recover. “try again next time.”

“you’re feeling yourself now, huh?” kea challenged, jogging back to defend as i dribbled toward the hoop.

“always,” i shot back, faking right before crossing over to my left. i breezed past her and went up for an easy layup, the ball spinning perfectly off the backboard before dropping through the net.

as soon as my feet hit the ground, i turned to cam, sticking my tongue out at her like a kid who just won a playground game, sticking a big, fat ‘L’ on my forehead. “too slow!” i said, grinning as i jogged backward toward the three-point line.

“one layup isn’t a highlight reel!”

i was about to fire back when it happened—nai walked by on the sideline, clipboard in hand, her focus seemingly on the players warming up. but just as i turned to look, she glanced my way and caught me mid-stare. she didn’t look away this time, and before i could think too much about it, she gave me a smile. not one of her usual polite, professional smiles, but something softer. brief but intimate, just enough to pull me in and spit me right back out when she turned away again. it was so quick, i almost convinced myself it didn’t happen.

my heart did this annoying little flip, and i nearly tripped over my own feet as i turned back to the game. the ball rickea had passed came flying toward me, smacking me lightly in the chest.

“oh, my God, we lost her again.”

the door to the supply room squeaked as i nudged it open with my shoulder, balancing a stack of extra towels in one hand and my clipboard in the other. game days were always crazy—organized crazy, thanks to me—but i was good at it. every minute was accounted for, every detail triple-checked. there was no room to think about anything else, and i liked it that way.

setting the towels on the shelf, i glanced down at my clipboard, double-checking the inventory count against my list. the sound of faint footsteps caught my attention, and i glanced over my shoulder. my heart dropped—i think to my ass—when i saw her.

maya.

she hovered in the doorway, hands shoved into her jacket pockets, her expression hesitant. it was a strange look for her—maya never hesitated. she moved like she always knew exactly where she stood, always so sure. but now? now she just looked… conflicted. i think everything that happened knocked her down a notch.

my first instinct was to tell her to leave, but i refrained. “hey,” i said finally, turning fully to face her. my eyes narrowed slightly as i studied her. “what’s up?”

she stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind her, and suddenly the room felt smaller. “can we talk for a second?” she asked, shifting on her feet.

i leaned back against the shelf, crossing my arms over my chest. “talk about what?”

maya hesitated, her eyes flickering to… well, everything but me before meeting mine again. “about everything,” she said softly, almost like she wasn’t sure the words would come out. “about… you, me, paige. all of it.”

“you don’t have to do this.”

“i think i do,” she replied quickly, almost too quickly, like she’d been waiting for the chance to say it. “i just… i wanted to say i’m sorry, nai. for everything. for how it all played out.”

i studied her for a moment, trying to gauge how much of this was for me and how much of it was for her. “i should’ve told you.” still, it was hard to hold onto any lingering anger when she looked at me like that—like she genuinely meant it. “about me and paige. i shouldn’t have kept it from you, maya. that was fucked up.”

maya’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes dropping to the floor for a moment. “yeah,” she said softly, almost like she hadn’t expected me to admit it. “maybe. but i wasn’t exactly innocent either.” she glanced back. “i should’ve walked away when i realized.”

“realized what?” i asked, tilting my head, though i already had a feeling i knew the answer.

her laugh was small, humorless. “i mean… it was obvious, nai.”

i froze, still gaining the nerve to ask, “obvious how?”

maya raised a brow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “oh, you’re serious.” she shook her head lightly, as if the answer should’ve been clear. “even when you weren’t saying it out loud, it was all over your faces. the way you talked to each other, the way you didn’t.”

i feel terrible. “maya—“

“it’s not a dig,” she interrupted, holding up her hands. “it’s just… the way you two are. it’s not something you can really hide, nai. trust me, i tried to ignore it. thought maybe i was overthinking or projecting or whatever. but i wasn’t.”

i swallowed, hard, trying to find the right words, but nothing felt like enough. maya sighed, leaning back against the door like she was anchoring herself there.

“look,” she said, softening her words up as if i was fragile. “i get it. you don’t owe me anything. but i wanted to tell you that i talked to paige.”

my head snapped up at that, her name alone making my heart skip. “you did?”

maya nodded, her eyes steady on me. “on the phone a few nights ago. i needed to get it off my chest, you know? everything that went down… it was a mess. and i don’t think paige even realized how much of it was on her until we talked.”

i nodded, and she continued.

maya squinted at me. “paige said she loves you.” the words didn’t sound new. paige had been telling me she’s loved me since high school—sometimes with her words, sometimes with her actions, and sometimes in the quiet spaces between. so why did it strike me like a blow this time? “and i believe her. but… i don’t know. does it ever feel like she only tries when she’s scared you’ll leave?”

my breath caught, and for a moment, i couldn’t think of anything to say. the question wasn’t meant to hurt me—at least, it didn’t feel that way—but it landed right where it was supposed to. deep, direct, in the places i tried not to think about too much. i was immediately defensive. “you can’t—“

maya tilted her head slightly, studying me like she was trying to figure out how much of this i already knew. “maybe not. but it’s worth asking, isn’t it?”

i wanted to deny it. to tell her she didn’t understand, that she didn’t see the weekends during college, the little moments that no one else got to witness. the times when paige showed up, not because she was scared of losing me but because she wanted to be there.

but maya wasn’t entirely wrong, was she? there were times when it felt like paige’s love came in waves—strong and all-encompassing when the fear of losing me loomed, and quieter, more distant, when she felt secure. it wasn’t that she didn’t love me; it was just… complicated.

“she tries,” i said finally, convincing myself of it. “paige does try. maybe it’s not perfect, but she loves me. i know that.”

maya’s lips pressed into a thin line. “i just needed to say that. to let you know i’m sorry for my part in all of this. and… i hope it works out. for you and paige.”

i could see the sincerity in her eyes. she wasn’t here to stir the pot or make things worse. she was here because she cared, even if her timing was terrible.

“thanks,” i said finally, my voice barely above a whisper.

and then she was gone, leaving me alone in the supply room with her words ringing in my ears. i leaned back against the shelf, closing my eyes as the weight of it all settled over me.

maya’s voice played on a loop in my mind: paige only knows how to love when she’s afraid of losing something.

and for the first time, i wondered if maya was right.

i’d gotten to the office earlier than usual, telling myself it was because i had work to do. but really, i just wanted to be alone. birthdays used to mean something, but now they felt more like a reminder of how much had changed. the kind of day where you couldn’t help but take stock of everything and everyone in your life—who was still there, who wasn’t, and who only came around when it suited them.

my desk was a mess of papers and sticky notes i didn’t feel like sorting through. i kept staring at my laptop screen, pretending to work while my mind wandered. i thought about the flowers that would probably show up later from people i barely spoke to. the texts i’d get from coworkers who’d remember because of a calendar alert. and, of course, i thought about paige.

the no-contact rule was still in place, and even though i knew she was respecting it, part of me still wondered if that was her way of playing it safe. keeping distance until she was sure i wasn’t going anywhere. that had always been how it felt between us, and i couldn’t help but think that today, of all days, would be the one day she might break the silence.

and i was right. “we can make an exception for a national holiday, right?” she teased.

there she was, leaning in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in her hands. her grey nike tech was speckled with rain droplets, her hood pulled up but not doing much to hide the strands of blonde hair sticking to her forehead. still, her eyes found mine instantly, scanning me like she was trying to read me before i even said a word.

“paige,” i dragged out, my name on her lips almost like a scolding, but the slow upturn of my smile completely gave me away.

she bit back her own grin, her lip caught between her teeth. “happy birthday, nai.”

i stood up, the flowers still in her hand as i crossed the space between us. she handed them to me without a word, and i hugged her almost instinctively. she was still damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter.

“you’re very early,” i said into her shoulder, my words muffled.

“nah, this is perfectly timed,” she replied, pulling back slightly but keeping her hands on my shoulders. her thumbs pressed gently into them like she knew how tense i’d been all morning. “besides, i didn’t wanna risk showing up and missing you.”

i rolled my eyes playfully. “you think i’d skip out on my own birthday?”

she smirked. “i dunno. you don’t exactly seem excited about it.”

“hmm,” i paused, screwing my eyes shut as i leaned into the massage. “it’s too early to be excited,” i shot back.

“fair,” she settled, tilting her head as her thumbs hit just the right spots. “nika and them flyin’ in today.”

that pulled a genuine smile at me. she mentioned it a bit ago, how some of her old teammates would be coming to see her play soon. “yeah? when’re they landing?”

“this afternoon. nika texted me last night about it,” paige said, and i can’t help but think about how good we are at this small talk thing. it’s so easy to get lost in what feels normal. “we play storm in two days, so… figured we’d spend some time together before the game.”

i nodded, knowing nika had been one of the constants in paige’s life since their freshman year at uconn, and i’d always admired the way their friendship seemed to hold its own weight, no matter what else was happening around them.

“i’m assuming you wanna see them,” paige added.

“duh,” i replied easily, cracking one eye open to give her a pointed look.

“i’ll set sum’ up,” she replied, and i nodded. her hands stayed on my shoulders, pausing just long enough to tap them before stepping back. “you good? you seem… off.”

i hesitated, caught off guard by the question even though i shouldn’t have been. paige had always been good at reading me, sometimes better than i wanted her to be. “yeah,” i said quickly, too quickly. “just… long morning already.”

“mmhm,” she replied, clearly unconvinced, but she didn’t push. instead, she leaned against the edge of my desk, her hands slipping into the pockets of her hoodie.

“you sure?” she asked again after a moment, and i knew i wouldn’t be getting away with saying nothing.

she stated at me, and i found my lies slipping away. my mouth fell wider with each passing second, and when her eyes darted to my lips, i seemed to snap up out of it, busying myself with the tax of fixing an already perfect vase of flowers onto my desk. “i just—i talked to maya.”

i could hear paige shift in front of me before letting out a quiet chuckle. “okay,” she said, dragging the word out like she already knew where this was going. “what she say?”

her tone was casual, but when i looked up at her fully turned figure, she had that look in her eyes—guarded, careful, like she was already bracing herself. “nothing bad,” i started, furrowing my eyebrows. “just… stuff about us. about how things went down.”

paige raised a brow, crossing her arms over her chest as she tilted her head slightly. “uh-huh. like what?”

“like how it always feels like you only show up when you’re afraid of losing something.”

i couldn’t help but watch her, waiting for her reaction. for her to say something, anything.

paige’s posture shifted immediately, her arms tightening over her chest as her lips pressed into a thin line. “you letting her feed you bullshit again, nai?” she asked.

“don’t do that. it’s not bullshit,” i replied. “it’s how it feels sometimes.”

“to who? you?” she challenged, taking a step closer. her eyes searched mine, narrowing slightly, but there was no malice in them—just frustration. “or maya? ’cause she loves spinning her little stories, and you know that.”

“paige.” i sighed, shaking my head as i tried to keep the conversation from spiraling. i didn’t exactly want to argue. “this isn’t about maya. it’s about me, about us.”

“nah, you just said you talked to her,” paige shot back, gesturing vaguely toward me. “and now you’re standing here like she knows me better than you do. like she knows us better than we do,” she argued, adding a, “c’mon, that’s not fair.”

“isn’t it, though?” i asked, meeting her gaze head-on. “you’re here now, but only because it’s my birthday. because you knew i’d expect you to show up.”

paige’s eyes flickered away for a split second, down to her pocket, before snapping back to mine. “you really think that’s the only reason i’m here?”

i didn’t say anything. i didn’t need to—the look on my face must’ve told her everything.

her shoulders dropped slightly, and she let out a humorless laugh, shaking her head. “that’s crazy, nai. you know that’s crazy, right?”

“it’s not about how i see you, pai—“

her expression had hardened, like she’d put up a wall i couldn’t reach past. “you know what? maybe you’re right. maybe this whole thing is just me showing up when it’s convenient.”

“you know that’s not what i meant.”

“nah,” she cut me off, stepping back toward the door. “if that’s how you feel, then what am i even doing here? clearly, it don’t matter.”

“it does matter,” i said quickly, but the words didn’t seem to land. fuck, i’m an idiot.

“not to you, it don’t,” she replied, her voice clipped. she paused for a second, her hand on the doorknob, before turning back to look at me. “it’s cool. you got your flowers. happy birthday, nai.”

and just like that, she was gone. the click of the door felt louder than it should’ve, and i stood there, staring at the empty space she left behind, wondering how we managed to end up here—again.

“nai… she… fuck, nika.”

i swirled the half-melted ice in my glass. the bourbon wasn’t hitting the way i needed it to, but it was definitely hitting. i don’t drink fucking bourbon. i’m sure i’d drink about a gallon of it right now though. “we had this argument earlier. it’s like she doesn’t see how hard i’m trying, you know? like she’s convinced i only show up when i’m scared i’m losing her or something.”

nika leaned back in her seat, eyebrows raised. “those her words, or yours?” she asked, the corners of her mouth twitching.

“hers,” i mumbled, tipping the glass back for a too-big sip.

“damn.” right!?

i scrubbed a hand down my face, leaning into the bar like it could hold me up. my stomach twisted, and for once, it wasn’t from the alcohol. “she just—she don’t get it, you know? like, yeah, i fucked up before, but i’m trying now. i’m really trying, and she doesn’t even see it. she doesn’t even try to see it. at least i’m trying, like—“

“maybe ease up on the drink first before you start spiraling,” azzi cut in from the other side of the bar. she was nursing a soda, her judgmental stare boring into me like an older sister i didn’t ask for.

i shot her a glare. “you’re ‘posed to be team paige.”

“i am team paige,” she said, crossing her arms and smiling sweetly. i stuck my tongue out at her.

the bar in nika’s hotel was louder than i expected for a wednesday night. maybe it was the group of us taking up the corner table, or maybe it was just me being on edge. i felt like i was moving through the motions, laughing when everyone else did, nodding along to conversations i wasn’t really following.

it all started to show as soon as the alcohol kicked in. i could feel myself slipping, letting it take me to that reckless place i always ended up in when it came to her. i stared at my phone, the glow of the screen blurring slightly as i typed out another text. i didn’t care if she was out, if she was at her party surrounded by people who probably cared more than i ever showed. i just needed her to hear me.

and here i was, sitting in a damn hotel bar, drunk as hell, making everything worse just because i couldn’t leave her alone. but i texted.

and texted and texted and texted.

paige: so youure just gonna ignore me? 10:21pm

bet

paige: you wouldnr even be mad rn if you just let me fix it 10:24pm

but you don’t rven want to let me try bro

paige: i hate when we don’t talk 10:26pm

can we talk?

the words blurred slightly as i reread them, but i didn’t delete anything. instead, i kept going, typing out every thought that popped into my head, no matter how ridiculous it sounded.

paige: please baby jus wanna hear your voice 10:27pm

paige: i came w my mind made uo today 10:31pm

i just couldn’t sau it i’m so sorry

could’nt give it to you

delivered. delivered. delivered. not a single one read.

my phone buzzed in my hand, and for a second, i thought it was another notification. but no—her name lit up the screen, a call coming through. my heart jumped into my throat. i stared at it, frozen, until it rang out.

“shit,” i mumbled, fumbling with the phone as i stumbled out of my seat.

nika grabbed my arm to steady me. “where you going?”

“outside,” i mumbled, shoving my phone into my hoodie pocket.

the rain hit me as soon as i stepped out, the cold shocking enough to sober me up just a little. i ducked under the hotel’s awning, the noise of the rain hitting the roof above me almost drowning out the sound of my phone. my fingers shook as i called her back. the phone rang once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. i swore, pulling my hand into my jacket pocket.

well, the first call goes to voicemail.

the second one does too.

i try a third time, pacing.

finally, the line clicks. “paige,” nai says, and i can hear the hesitance in her voice. i can hear it, and i hate that i put it there.

“nai,” i breathe, her name coming out in a rush. the rain’s loud on my end, and i know she can hear it. “i—i’m sorry, okay? just—please don’t hang up. i had to talk to you. i can’t… i can’t keep doin’ this, fuck—“

“you’re drunk?” she asks flatly. i could hear the music in the background, and i conclude that she probably hadn’t seen my texts.

“you’re mad at me…” i continued. “i get it… i walked out on you, but you could barely look at me today, and—“

“paige, shut up. where are you?”

“outside nika’s hotel,” i muttered, wiping my face with my sleeve even though it didn’t help.

“stay there,” she said, and the line went dead.

a party hadn’t been my only surprise tonight. hell, it hadn’t been my only surprise of the entire day.

i should’ve been celebrating, right? enjoying the fact that people cared enough to throw me this party, that everyone had gathered in one place for me. but all i could think about was paige. and everything that came with her.

i hadn’t expected to hear from her at all tonight, let alone get the damn text messages that practically screamed desperation. though, half of me still passed on the alcohol for tonight as some kind of gut feeling. i knew she was drunk. i could tell from her words—hell, i could tell from the way she sent them in a blur, as if she couldn’t hold the phone still long enough to type a single coherent sentence.

i should’ve been upset. angry even. all those stupid things she’d done, all the mess she’d made, all the times she’d promised to change and then didn’t—it all came rushing back. i should’ve been furious. but there i was, standing in the middle of a damn party, my damn party, staring at my phone like it held the answers to every question i’d ever asked.

and then came the call.

it wasn’t even a question of if i would answer. i couldn’t not.

“nai,” her voice came through, shaky and full of guilt. “i—i’m sorry, okay? just—please don’t hang up. i had to talk to you. i can’t… i can’t keep doin’ this, fuck—”

i had to step away from the group. i couldn’t focus on anything but her voice, the sound of it cracking through the static, pulling at something deep inside me. the music in the background was too loud, but i heard every word she said.

“you’re drunk?” i asked, my voice flat, trying not to let the frustration leak through.

“you’re mad at me…” she trailed off, and i knew exactly where this was going.

her text messages had been pleading, full of “baby, please”s and “i’m sorry”s, but this? this felt different. it wasn’t just her trying to get me to forgive her. it was her trying to convince me to fully let her in again. it was her realizing i was slipping. again.

and there couldn’t have been any more confirmation.

i drove through the rain, the windshield wipers squeaking as they tried to clear the downpour. i pulled in front of the hotel’s awning, the lights from the sign reflecting on the wet pavement. i killed the engine and just sat there for a moment, my fingers gripping the steering wheel as i took a deep breath.

the knock on my window pulled me from my thoughts. i glanced up, and there was nika, standing in the rain, her coat pulled tightly around her. i rolled the window down just enough to hear her.

“she’s over there,” nika said, nodding towards the edge of the awning, her finger pointing to one of the hotel’s pillars. “she wouldn’t come inside or anything until you got here.”

i stared at the spot for a second. the rain was coming down so hard, the air was cold for it being summer, and paige was still out there, waiting. waiting for me. i didn’t know if that made it worse or better.

“thanks,” i muttered, forcing a tight smile. nika didn’t say anything else, just gave me a quick nod before heading back inside. i guess she figured this wasn’t a time for pleasantries.

i got out of the car, the rain immediately soaking through the jacket i threw over the nice blouse cam had gifted me. i could hear paige before i saw her, her voice cutting through the sound of the rain.

“nai, baby, look, i swear i didn’t mean to fuck everything up—”

“paige,” i interrupted. i couldn’t let her ramble on, not like this. “you don’t need to explain anything right now. just—”

“no, no, just listen! i’m so sorry,” she cut me off again. she took a step closer, and i pushed at her hips, trying to keep her at a distance. “i know i messed up. i know i fucked up, so many times. but—fuck, nai, i’m here. i’m here right now, and i’m gonna make this right. you don’t really believe maya, do you?”

this was a side of paige i hadn’t seen in a long time. she wasn’t trying to be strong, wasn’t trying to prove a point. she was just…asking.

“i believe you,” i stated plainly, avoiding her eyes as i tried to pull her toward the car.

paige’s shoulders dropped, her brows furrowing as she complied to my pulling. “you’re lying.”

i exhaled sharply, finally getting somewhere as i wrapped my fingers gently around her wrist. “i want you to get in the car.”

“i don’t… wanna get in the car, bro. i wanna talk.”

“we can talk in the car,” i insisted, not wanting to drag this out any longer. it was already too much.

paige dragged her feet along the pavement, her rambles continuing, making it harder to get her to the passenger seat in a timely matter. “you look so good tonight.” “fuck.” “i’m sorry for ruining your night.” “i didn’t mean to mess this up.”

finally, i opened the passenger door, and paige slid in with a small, unsteady huff, like she was relieved to be inside. i crouched down beside the door, lowering myself to her level as i reached for the seatbelt.

paige shifted slightly, still muttering under her breath, her words blurred together in the same cycle of regret and self-reproach. “i’m gonna fix this. i promise i will.”

“i don’t need you to,” i said, my voice barely above a whisper as i clicked the seatbelt into place, making sure it was secure. paige paused, and i tightened the strap for her, putting my focus solely on that.

“what? i know…” she hiccuped, shifting again as she tugged on the zipper of her jacket, scrunching her face up like the fabric had been bothering her. i reached out and helped her get it off her arms, the motion feeling almost automatic. “i haven’t been the best girlfriend, ex.. whatever.”

“it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine.” and she said it again, almost as if to tell the truth for both of us. “it’s not fine and… i’m gonna do right by you, swear, baby.” her words trailed off into another hiccup as she looked at me, her eyes pleading. i didn’t respond.

i’m sick of words. so sick of fucking words.

“did you have a good birthday?” she continued, her voice small now, and i could tell she was getting tired too. “i know i’ve been a mess—”

“it’s okay,” i said, my tone flat, trying not to let her guilt weigh on me. “we’ll talk when you’re sober.”

“nai, i just need to—” she started, but i cut her off, shaking my head.

“we can get everything straight… when you’re sober. not now.”

her face fell. “i got you a promise ring,” she blurted out, her eyes wide and frantic. “i was gonna give it to you. but i… i couldn’t. i couldn’t, nai, i was gonna do it today. i really was, but i didn’t know how.”

i was frozen for a moment. “what?” the word came out before i could stop it. i blinked, trying to process what she was saying. “promise ring? you… had a ring for me?”

i stayed silent, my chest tight as i processed everything she was saying. the ring, the flowers, her promises. it all felt like a cruel reminder of everything i had to let go. everything we had been and everything that we weren’t anymore.

paige hiccupped, the alcohol causing her words to slur further. “yeah… had it in my pocket. i came all ready to give it to you, but… i couldn’t. just couldn’t.”

“paige, stop it,” i finally whispered, my voice breaking slightly. i finally looked at her. really looked at her before attempting to get up. “you’re embarrassing yourself.”

her face faltered, but she didn’t let go of me, her hands trembling as she reached for my face, pulling me closer. “what do you want, nai?” the way she said it... “you want me to stop showing up? you want me to leave you alone? ‘cause i can do that. i can leave you alone. i can do that if that’s what you really want.” the way she pleads like she’ll do anything, has me on the verge of believing it.

my heart pounded in my chest. she was still holding onto this idea, this hope that i could come back. her eyes softened, and she leaned in closer, like she was trying to get through to me, but it felt suffocating.

“just let me go, paige,” i said, my voice hoarse. “let me go. please,” i muttered, lolling my head to try and get out of her grasp. i pressed my hand into her thigh, steadying myself on the ground.

her hands only gripped my face tighter, her thumb running over my jaw, her touch too familiar to the first time. too much.

silence. and then, “that’s what you want?”

i closed my eyes, trying to ignore the way her hands felt on my cheeks. the way her voice cracked, desperate and pleading, it hit something deep inside me. no, i wanted to say. no, i don’t want this. but living a lie had been outdated.

“yes,” i finally managed.

her thumb slid up under my eye, gently brushing away a tear that escaped. “look at me when you say it.”

no. no, no, no.

“look at me, nai. tell me you mean it,” she repeated.

i mean it. the words felt heavy, like they were being dragged out of me, but they were the only thing that made sense anymore.

i lifted my eyes slowly, meeting hers. “i mean it,” i said, barely a breath, but enough for her to hear. “i need you to let go, paige.”

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the rain against the pavement and our uneven breaths. her grip didn’t loosen at first, like she was weighing the words, like she was holding onto the last shred of something she didn’t want to let go of.

but then, just like that, she pulled her hands away from my face, the movement stiff and mechanical. her eyes became empty, almost like they were looking right through me. she didn’t say anything—didn’t try to argue, didn’t plead. she just withdrew, the shift in her demeanor so abrupt it was as if the weight of everything we had was just… gone.

“okay.”

i turned then, slowly at first, and then more decisively as i made my way back to the driver’s seat, the rain still coming down hard around us. i didn’t look back, even though i felt her eyes on me, even though i knew she was still there.

after so many tries, i realized i couldn’t do this again. i couldn’t let her in.

and for the first time in what felt like forever, i let go, and it felt… right?

#paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x fem #hoaw #wlw fanfic #wlw fiction #angst #i’m sorry #hahaha

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flipppyflopp · 2 months ago

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“No sleeping in, not even on my birthday. There’s too much to get done to waste the day in bed.” 🎉✨

Happy birthday to my twst oc, Arlen Nox! I decided to do my spin on the new birthday card theme for Arlen even though they haven’t released a Diasomnia character yet, so Arlen might not match Silver and the others when they come out. Trey and Floyd were big inspirations for Arlen’s card from his to his pajamas. Specifically for his pajamas I wanted to incorporate Kingdom Hearts elements since Arlen’s main inspiration is Riku, so I tied in some dream eater references.

If you swipe you can see how Arlen spent part of his birthday as well as what presents he received from his friends. Below you can read Arlen’s birthday vignette written in a similar style to the new birthday vignettes, which guest stars the character voted as Arlen’s duo partner on Instagram…Silver! I hope you all enjoy and if you have any questions about Arlen, feel free to leave them in my inbox! ✨

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: Alright, I should be able to take these back to my room before track practice.

Arlen: Wait a second…who’s that lying on the ground up ahead? Are they hurt?

Arlen: Oh, it’s just Silver. I don’t have time to waste…but I hate to leave him in case he’s in a hurry to get somewhere too.

Arlen: Silver? Wake up, Silver. Now’s not the time to be napping. Silver! SILVER!

Silver: Huh? What? Oh, Arlen, it’s you.

Arlen: Yeah, sorry about yelling in your ear. You were sleeping pretty soundly.

Silver: Sorry for the trouble I caused. I appreciate you taking the time to wake me up.

Arlen: It’s fine. I was just on my way back from the post office and saw you laying there on the side of the path.

Silver: Post office? Not many students go there with all the technology available today.

Arlen: Unfortunately, I’m not the best with technology, so I go there quite frequently. Today, I was picking up a card my stepparents sent me.

Silver: A card? Were they congratulating you about your performance in the recent track meet?

Arlen: No, they sent me a birthday card.

Silver: Birthday? I’m terribly sorry if I missed it. Happy-

Arlen: Slow down, Silver, my birthday’s not until tomorrow.

Silver: Really? I apologize for getting ahead of myself.

Arlen: Quit apologizing, birthdays aren’t a big deal anyways. Just another day of the year.

Silver: Oh? Are you not a fan of big celebrations on your birthday?

Arlen: Not really? I don’t know, I just don’t understand the need to get so worked up about them. All you’re doing is getting older, what’s there to really celebrate?

Silver: Hmm. I suppose people just like to celebrate that you lived another year, uplifting your growth and the memories you made in that short span of time.

Arlen: Sounds about right, I guess. The best part’s getting to eat cake.

Silver: Really? I thought you weren’t a fan of sweets?

Arlen: Just ice cream, it’s way too sugary for my tastes. I enjoy cakes and pies just fine.

Silver: That explains Malleus’s initial reaction to you…

Arlen: Huh?

Silver: It’s nothing, just…hold on a moment, I just got a text from Sebek.

Silver: Oh no, I was asleep longer than I thought. I must be getting to the Equestrian Club. Farewell, Arlen!

Arlen: Bye, Silver.

Arlen: Guess I’d better hurry on myself. Chatting with Silver’s nice, but I can’t be late to practice or else I’ll have to run extra laps.

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: There’s nothing like a hot shower after practice.

Arlen: Speaking of practice, I need to write down my new personal best. Can’t believe I managed to shave off four seconds today. Maybe it’s some early birthday luck.

Arlen: The next track meet isn’t for another month, so I’ve got plenty of time to cut down more time off my personal best. I wish I could shave off some more time from our relay record, it could definitely use some improvement.

Arlen: Competing individually comes easier to me than competing as a group. When it’s just me, I only have to worry about myself. When I’m competing with others, I not only worry about myself, but I have to worry about the other guys as well. It’s a lot of trusting one another, which doesn’t come easily…especially in a school like Night Raven College.

Arlen: Luckily, Jack and Deuce handle their share of the relay just fine. Although, I wonder if by becoming closer it would shave off time for our relay….hmmm. Maybe I’ll treat them to dinner tomorrow after practice, they’d enjoy that.

*Bzzt*

Arlen: My phone? Who could that be? Oh, Soren wants to FaceTime. Sure for just a couple minutes.

Soren: ARLEN! What took you so long? It took you like three rings instead of two! What-

Arlen: Slow down, Soren. I just got back from showering after practice. I’m a bit sore today.

Soren: Oh, I see! Must be trying to beat my time from the track meet last week.

Arlen: Yeah right, you’re the one trying to catch up to me. Speaking of which, you’re going to have to work harder, I just shaved off four more seconds.

Soren: WAIT WHAT?! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! Kai won’t believe me when I tell him tomorrow.

Arlen: I could always send you a picture of my time as proof.

Soren: Ha ha, very funny. Laugh it up while you can, you’ll be eating my dust soon enough.

Arlen: As if.

Soren: Oh let me tell you what happened in class today! So I was sitting with Neige…

*Time Passes*

Soren: I couldn’t believe it when Chenya came out of alchemy lab with bright green hands.

Arlen: Well that’s what you get when you mix aloe and pixie dust.

*Knock*

Lilia: Arlen, it’s past lights out. Off to bed with you.

Arlen: My bad!

Arlen: Sorry, Soren, we’ll have to talk later.

Soren: That’s fine. But before you go, I’ve got one last thing to say to you.

Arlen: What?

Soren: Happy birthday, Arlen!

*Click*

Arlen: Huh? Is it really-

Arlen: We talked for that long!? So that’s why he kept flying through topics, just to get to midnight.

Arlen: Wait…

Arlen: Why was Lilia doing lights out checks so late!? What was he doing?!

Arlen: No use wasting time thinking about that. I’ve got to get to bed so I can get up early.

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: Time to start the day. It’s nice waking up early because the dorm bathroom is completely empty. Most people don’t get up at the crack of dawn like I do. Sometimes I run into Sebek or Malleus, which is quite the jump scare as Idia would say.

Arlen: Alright, quick shower then it’s time to head out.

Arlen: I don’t spend too much time on my appearance. Just combing my hair, brushing my teeth, the usual. No point spending extra time when it’ll just get messy from the wind later.

Arlen: Some guys go all out with makeup and hair products, but that’s just not my thing. Just some lotion will do just fine. Dry skin gets on my last nerve.

Arlen: Alright, next on my morning routine. Time to go get the feed from my room. I like being outside early, it’s a good way to clear my head. I feed the animals around the dorm while I’m at, might as well since I’m already out.

Arlen: I can see the birds waiting up in the rafters of the courtyard. They always wait up there, never getting close till I put the feed out…I hope they’ll grow to like me some day. Animals just don’t seem to like me, I get it though.

Arlen: Hmm?

Arlen: A little sparrow is hopping right in front of me? Want something to eat little guy?

Arlen: Huh? Another bird’s come down? A rabbit too? I haven’t even put down any food yet!?

???: Getting along with the animals, Arlen?

Arlen: Silver! That explains why the animals got closer than normal.

Silver: I’m sure they’re just finally coming around to you.

Arlen: As if.

Silver: You just gotta have more confidence in yourself. The animals can tell you’re nervous. Here.

Arlen: Huh? What are you doing with that bird? Silver, wait-

Silver: Just put your hand out like so and the bird will have a nice place to sit. Perfect.

Arlen: Silver, take it back before I hurt-

Silver: You’re fine, just breathe. See? It’s okay.

Arlen: …

Silver: Arlen? I’m sorry if I rushed you into-

Arlen: So what are you doing up so early? Doesn’t a sleepyhead like you snooze through the morning.

Silver: Usually, yes, but I had something important this morning.

Arlen: Really?

Silver: Arlen, happy birthday.

Arlen: Huh? Ha…ha ha ha!

Silver: What’s so funny?

Arlen: Something important? It’s just my birthday. You said that like it was the secret to saving the world from darkness or something.

Silver: It’s important to me. I wanted you to know your birthday mattered to me, so much so I wanted to be the first to say it.

Arlen: Really? That’s…really kind of you. Thank you, Silver.

Silver: You’re welcome, Arlen. I hope you don’t think that’s all I prepared, I also made some coffee cake in the kitchen for breakfast.

Arlen: Pulling out all the stops aren’t you.

Silver: Of course for a friend like you.

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yurikosinterlude · 17 days ago

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'Beautiful Stranger'

{ guitarist oc x singer!male/gn reader }

{ summary: while picking out vinyl records during one of your monthly trips to your local record store, a strange interaction causes you to leave with more than just records~ }

{ cw: none }

{ tag(s): fluff, strangers to lovers }

{ 🌿: stands for y/n}

{🎸: guitarist oc

{ wc: 700 }

{ a/n: hey everyone! i'm writing this drabble so that you guys can get like a sneak peek/preview of how I write and stuff before i release my actual first fic/story! hope you guys enjoy! }

..............................................................................................................................

Midterms week absolutely crushed you. The weeks prior were almost equally as terrible. You had been so focused on studying and passing each exam that you hadn't found time for the fun little activities that kept you sane.

One of these little activities was buying and collecting vinyl records. It was a monthly tradition to stop by the town's quaint record store a couple blocks away from your studio apartment to browse through all of the records, new and old. Occasionally, you'd even buy a few if they caught your eye.

Luckily for your wallet, though, something else caught your eye on that dewy afternoon...a boy.

He wore an open brown, long-sleeved flannel over a fitted white tank top and some baggy jeans. His outfit wasn't what caught your attention though. What made you drop everything you were doing was the fact that he was the most beautiful boy you'd ever seen. And the sun, that stupid afternoon sun was hitting his perfect face in a way that made it almost glow.

'I need to stop staring.' you thought to yourself, but it took everything in you to actually avert your gaze from the beautiful man only a couple steps away from you and continue with what you originally came to do. Stupidly, you attempt to steal another peak at this beautiful stranger, only to quickly look back away as his glistening eyes meet yours.

Your heart began to beat slightly faster and you felt your face and ears heating up as you walked around the store to try to play it off. Finally, you stop in front of a collection of unfamiliar records and rummage for a bit until your face lights up.

🌿:"Carl! I didn't know you guys had Lisa Ono here!"

You shouted to your childhood best friend Carl Sanchez, while admiring the almost untouched state of the record. Carl's parents owned the record store, which is why you made such routine visits.

"We didn't until recently. My aunt donated a bunch of records! There are lots more if you keep looking." And you did just that. You rummaged some more through the new pile of records and put the Lisa Ono record in your tote bag to make it easier to search when you hear an unfamiliar voice behind you.

🎸:"You're a fan of Lisa Ono?"

You turn around to identify to speaker and answer their question, but- it's him! It's that boy whose sun-kissed face kept you distracted earlier!

You begin to fiddle with your fingers as you give an awkward response,

🌿:"I- uh- yeah- yes, I love her- and her music.."

You take the record back out of your tote and stare at it for a while before finally speaking.

🌿:"This one is my favorite of hers actually. My mom used to play it while cleaning."

Your lips curl into a slight smile as you remember.

🎸:"I play her a ton on my guitar actually, her songs are probably my favorite to play if I'm being honest."

The boy said, his slightly raspy voice sending butterflies flitting around in your stomach.

🌿:"You play guitar?"

🎸:"Yeah, I've played since I was in middle school. I love it."

'Could he be any more perfect?' you think to yourself.

🎸:"What about you?"

🌿:"H-huh?"

🎸:"Do you play any instruments?"

🌿:"I-"

🎸:"Wait-Lemme guess.."

He says slightly squinting and looking you up and down. (Which only worsens your flustered state).

🌿:"..."

🎸:"Flute. Final answer."

🌿:"I sing actually.."

you say letting out a small giggle, finally meeting his gaze.

🎸:"That was my second guess."

He grins revealing two perfectly dimples on either side of his face.

🎸:"Hey, we should totally get together someday and do a duet or something, assuming you're a good singer..."

You chuckle,

🌿:"Also assuming you don't suck at guitar."

🎸:"Fine then, you're on. See you soon- Hey I actually never got your name..?"

The boy says, as he tilts his head slightly and observes your face.

🌿:"🌿."

🎸:"Cool. See you around 🌿."

And just like that, your beautiful stranger was gone. You watched as he walked out of the little store and let out a disappointed sigh as you realize you didn't ask for his name. So a beautiful stranger he will remain.

yurikosinterlude ©️ 2024 ❁ pls don't plagiarize, copy, repost, or translate my works at all ❁ (or atleast without creds :3)

#male reader #bottom male reader #gender neutral reader #x male reader #male x male #x gender neutral reader #laufey #fluff #yurikosinterlude

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aylacavebear · 6 months ago

Text

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 6

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 3517

Warnings: Angst, some Fluff, Confrontation, Dean being a sweetheart.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 6

You moved slowly as you unpacked the things Dean had packed and brought down there. He’d remembered so much more than your mind had even considered, like toiletries. It felt odd, being in this underground home built to not only hide you but keep you safe and taken care of.

The hours passed slowly for you. Dean had left you there around one-thirty. When your stomach began grumbling for nourishment around five, you dragged your feet as you explored the kitchen. It had a lot of non-perishables, like powdered milk, canned meat, vegetables, and fruits. There were potato flakes, too, along with a slew of other boxed items you didn’t feel like looking through.

Cereal it is.

This house was eerily quiet compared to the one above ground, and your mind took mental notes of it as you ate. You couldn’t hear any car or animal. Not even a cricket. Refrigerators typically have a hum, but this particular one didn’t, making the kitchen a vacuum of sound. Each bite of cereal you took seemed to echo in the silence, amplifying your solitude. I need some sound, any sound.

You ate quickly, the silence becoming unbearable. You needed some sort of noise to silence the silence that seemed to be getting too much on you. After you grabbed your phone charger from the bag in your room, you plugged it in, turned on your playlist, and sighed in relief when the first notes of Back in Black began playing, filling the void with a familiar comfort. The music, familiar and comforting, was a lifeline in the sea of silence, easing your unease and loneliness.

It would still be a bit before Dean was due back, so you headed to the room with the computers, wanting to see if anyone had been there while you had been gone earlier. Plus, it’d give you something to do. Earlier in the day, you’d put both keys on a necklace chain and wore it under your shirt; plus, it made it easier not to lose them.

Settling into the chair in front of the monitors, you clicked around on different things, finally finding the saved recordings. You found it interesting how the live feed was up on the other three monitors while you fiddled around on the fourth, looking through the saved files.

Luckily, there was nothing there that you had to worry about. It was either you or an animal of some kind outside that had tripped the motion sensor to record its movement. That was when you came across the one where Dean had spent the night, and furrowed your brow, confused as you watched him in the recording.

Your classic rock playlist continued to play in the background as you watched him. He stayed on the couch for a while, laying there, but in a way so he could easily look toward the top of the stairs. An hour or so later, he got up and paced a little before heading up the stairs. Different cameras picked him up, so you played the recordings with his movements. He stood in your doorway, which you left open.

The camera that was in your room picked up the front of him. He brought his right hand up to the front of his left shoulder, rubbing it slightly. You weren’t entirely sure why he would do that, unless perhaps he was sore from work, even though it had been an easy day.

You could see that he was mouthing words, but the camera didn’t pick up sound, sadly. He crossed his arms and leaned his shoulder on the doorframe, just watching you, for at least an hour. Dean never went into your room, though. He walked through the house, checking the doors and windows, then stood in your doorway again.

Why would he do that? Does he know something else that I don’t? Maybe he was just worried about me.

When you realized, through the recordings, that he had only gotten four hours of sleep that night, you were determined to make sure he got decent sleep tonight. Then you sighed, as he hadn’t said he’d stay with you.

If he does stay, he can have the bed. I’ll take the couch.

Glancing down at your phone, you sighed again, knowing he wouldn’t be back for at least another half hour. One recording did catch your eye, though. It was one while Dean was sleeping, and it had several linked recordings from other cameras.

At first, you didn’t see anything as to why the camera would activate, even after you replayed it half a dozen times. On that next play-through, though, you felt sick as the chill of goosebumps ran down your body out of fear.

There was a silhouette of a man outside the window of the living room where Dean was sleeping. You watched all the connected videos, and they had caught not only the man’s appearance, but also the vehicle he had driven there in, with the license plate number.

You were going to take down the information and give it to Jodi, but you had no way of getting it to her without using your phone or leaving the safety of this home-like bunker. Just as you leaned back in the seat, several of the outside cameras got a red line around them, signifying motion. It was a car you didn’t recognize, but Dean got out of the passenger seat, with a bag in his hand. You got closer to the screen, squinting a little, noticing it looked like an overnight bag. You smiled, relieved you wouldn’t be alone, but also that it was Dean who had showed up and not some stranger.

The car that had dropped him off drove away shortly after, which relieved you. You watched him move through the house, locking doors behind him. When he reached the secret door, he looked over his shoulder, then did the secret knock he’d come up with earlier. You excitedly ran to the main door, popped it open, and then ran up the stairs, opening that door as well, still smiling.

“You made it,” you began, but he put his finger to his lips, meaning for you to keep quiet, so you nodded and went back down the stairs. Dean followed you after he closed the door.

Is he worried someone is listening? Did someone follow him? Did he see something while he was outside that the cameras didn’t? Did someone tell him something?

You had so many questions but were keeping quiet until the two of you were inside the bunker. Once he tossed his bag on the floor near the couch, you practically tackled him in a hug.

“It’s so quiet here,” you told him, doing your best not to cry, again.

Deam was surprised, but he smiled softly and wrapped his arms around you, “Hope it’s okay if I spend the night. Might not be so quiet then.”

You pulled back and looked up at him curiously, with your arms still around the back of his neck, even if you did have to stand on your tiptoes to do so. “You’d really stay down here with me in the silent underground solitude?” you asked, puzzled.

The laughter that erupted from deep in his chest made you have to let go and take a step back. You weren’t entirely sure why he had found your question so amusing, but hearing him laugh like that made you smile.

It took Dean a few moments to catch his breath, which almost made you start laughing, “Sweetheart, you’ve got your own secret hideout. Why wouldn’t I want to hang out here with you? It’s like having your very own personal Bat-Cave, like Batman.”

At least now you understood why he had found your statement so funny. And the more you thought about what he said, you laughed hard at it. “Thanks. I really needed that,” you finally told him, now smiling and far more relaxed than you had been all day.

“Now, did you eat?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, around five. Oh, and tonight, you’re sleeping on the bed. I saw you stayed up last night and watched over me. There’s no need to do that down here. So, I’m going to make sure you’re comfortable and actually sleep tonight,” you told him, crossing your arms.

He tried not to laugh, and it came out as a quiet chuckle, “Sweetheart, you sleep in your bed. I’ll take the couch. No need to go to any extremes.”

You rolled your eyes, “Only if you answer a couple questions,” you told him, raising an eyebrow.

“What questions?” he asked, looking mildly curious but also almost worried.

“Why did you rub your shoulder last night? We had an easy day at the garage,” you asked cautiously. You knew there was a possibility that whatever it was could be personal.

He sighed before he sat down on the couch. Well, more like plopped down, so you sat on the far side, near the arm. “It’s my soulmate’s name. That’s all,” he answered quietly without looking at you.

Now you felt really bad. You knew that was a touchy subject for him. Much like you, but in almost opposite ways. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that personal. You can have the couch,” you replied quietly.

“It’s just a sore subject, for both of us,” he replied, motioning to the two of you. “If you want to talk about it, we can, but that means we both share stuff. Keep it fair. If you don’t want to, we can talk about other stuff.”

That was when you remembered the man from the night before, on the recording, “Maybe another time. There’s something I need to show you,” you told him, somewhat worried at how he’d react.

Dean followed you into the room, puzzled but silent. He watched the recordings from behind you, but you would glance up from time to time. You could tell that he was very clearly upset and angry. It was worse than when he was around Cole earlier. Dean’s jaw was clenched, his arms crossed over his chest, and he looked beyond pissed. You were sure you saw fire behind those emerald green eyes of his as he glared at the monitor.

“Azazel,” he said in a low, almost inaudible growl.

You turned back to the monitor, remembering the name from your parents' letters. Now, you had a face you could put to a name.

That night, Dean pulled out two phones and explained they were burner phones so you could still communicate with the outside world. He also handed you a piece of paper with several people’s numbers. You recognized all the names but not the numbers. So, he explained that everyone had burner phones now so that you could talk to them, as could Dean.

You wanted to ask him how he knew to do something like this, but at the same time, you weren’t sure you really wanted the answer. You just nodded in understanding while he explained it. Then he helped you get a pillow and blanket for him to use on the couch for the night.

Once that was set up, he slipped off his shoes near the door, then sat down on the side of the couch where his pillow was. You chose to sit on the coffee table again, not wanting to invade what was now his bed.

The awkward silence hung between the two of you, but Dean looked more confused than awkward. You just weren’t sure what to say or ask. Sure, you had plenty of questions, but you already felt bad that he got dragged into this huge mess surrounding you and your past. “What’s wrong?” Dean finally asked with a sigh, noticing how you wouldn’t look at him.

“A lot,” you mumbled, fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. “I feel bad. You got dragged into my mess.”

Dean sighed again, then held his arms open, “Come here.”

You looked up at him, slightly puzzled, but he motioned with his fingers for you to go to him. Biting your lip nervously, you finally, but reluctantly, got up and moved over to the couch next to him. Dean pulled you against him, gently holding you close.

“You didn’t drag me into this, Sweetheart. There’s still a lot you don’t know and right now really isn’t the time to go into all those details. I can tell you’re overwhelmed. What can I do to help you relax?” his words were soft, and you found yourself calming the more he spoke.

“I’m just scared, and this place was so quiet when you were gone, and so… lonely…” you admitted quickly.

He took a shaky breath, “Hopefully, it won’t be lonely while I’m here. Still didn’t answer my question, though,” he chuckled at the end, a bit playfully.

For a bit, you thought about his question and couldn’t help the light blush that crept into your cheeks, “This is helping,” you mumbled shyly.

With where your head was on his chest, as well as your hand, you felt his heart rate increase a little and found it odd. You again reminded yourself that he had a soulmate, and it was nothing more than him, perhaps being nervous about your reply. So, you mumbled an apology.

“I wish you’d stop apologizing already. If it bothered me, I’d tell you. I like spending time with you, and no one should have to go through something like this alone,” he told you, and you pouted.

You opened your mouth, about to apologize again, then closed it. His wish had effectively stopped you from being able to respond at the moment as your brain attempted to think of what else to say. You began absentmindedly playing with a tiny crease in his shirt and didn’t notice how his breathing got a little heavier as you continued to contemplate a response.

“So, um, you want me to just let you get some sleep then?” you finally asked, not sure of another topic to broach at the moment.

“Or, we could have a drink, and you can relax so you can sleep,” he suggested a little playfully.

Leave it to your best friend to think of you like he always seemed to do since the two of you had gotten to know each other. There were days, like today, that it felt like so much longer than roughly two months. Then there was how you felt around him, especially within just the last day. He gave a sense of safety and comfort you had only ever gotten from the adults in your life, up until him.

“I guess so,” you mumbled, lost in your thoughts again, trying not to let your mind drift past him only being your best friend.

“You’re so stubborn,” he chuckled in amusement before shifting, causing you to move so he could get up.

You glared playfully at him as he went to the kitchen and pulled two beers out of the fridge. He popped the tops, smirking in that playful way as he made his way back to the couch. You shifted a little, making room again so he could return to his seat.

“Thanks,” you told him, taking the beer he handed you before sitting down again. “I’m not always stubborn.”

Dean chuckled, seeing the way your lips frowned into a pout, “You know, you’re adorable when you pout like that.” He shifted a bit so that he was turned more to face you, his arm over the back of the couch with his leg bent at his knee on the cushion. So, you did the same but kept your hands in your lap, one of them holding your beer.

“I know it’s a touchy subject, but… When you do find your soulmate, I don’t mind telling her what an amazing guy you are. And… I’ll understand that we won’t spend as much time together,” you told him with a soft smile. The strange part was that you almost felt a sense of heartbreak after those words left your lips, but you hid it well.

The smirk he had turned into a soft smile, “Only as long as I get to do the same for you.”

“Fair,” you replied, managing to give him at least a small smile. “How long are you staying for?”

“Uh, yeah, about that,” Dean began, then trailed off, looking away from you, debating how to answer you. “Someone followed me, at least to your driveway, but they drove past. I uh, we’re sort of stuck down here, together.” He finished, sounding nervous and apprehensive again.

At first, you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about that. It would, of course, be nice not to be alone, but you had figured Dean would have the freedom to come and go as he wanted. You wanted to apologize but remembered he wanted you to stop doing that, so you didn’t. You knew there was plenty of food, even if most of it was things you weren’t used to eating. At least neither of you would go hungry.

You stared off toward the floor as you sipped your beer, thinking about the predicament that both of you were in. Books and lots of movies, even if they were on VHS, could occupy at least some of the time there. Showering would be simple enough; you figured the two of you would just take turns. What about maybe needing alone time? Does Dean need someplace more private than the living room? He already said that the bedroom was mine and he wasn’t going to sleep there and have me on the couch. Maybe we could hang sheets so he had a more secluded spot. We could even rearrange if he wanted to.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you about being down here with you,” he said, pulling you from your thoughts.

That was when you realized you hadn’t even commented on what he’d said. “No, no, no. It’s nothing like that. I was lost in my thoughts,” you quickly replied apologetically, meeting his gaze.

Why does he have to look at me like that? Almost like… No, he has a soulmate. He’s not thinking about me. He’s thinking about her. Now stop it, brain.

“Care to share, Sweetheart?” he asked with that smirk of his that always made you smile.

“Just, stuff, that’s all,” you replied, a little shyly, looking away from him. “I’ve never lived with anyone before, not like this anyway.”

Somehow, you managed to explain to him the things you’d been thinking about but focused more on making a more private space for him in the living room. He at least seemed to like the idea or perhaps it was appreciation that you thought of him like that. You weren’t quite sure.

“We can do that tomorrow if you’d like,” he suggested when you finally stopped babbling about the thoughts that had been in your head. At least he didn’t seem upset with you, which was a relief. “Why don’t you go get some sleep, though? It’s late.”

“Only if you promise that you’ll sleep and not stay up all night watching over me,” you replied, crossing your arms and attempting to look serious.

That, of course, only made him chuckle, “You’re adorable when you act like that. I promise I’ll get some sleep, just not gonna promise on how much.”

You playfully smacked his shoulder before cleaning up the two empty beer bottles. For a moment, you stood in the kitchen near the trash, not wanting to feel what you were feeling. Quickly brushing it aside, you went back out, standing near the hallway.

“Then, I’ll see you in the morning,” you told him, giving him a half smile.

“Night, Sweetheart,” he replied, and you turned from him to your room.

He has a soulmate, you repeated in your mind as you got ready for bed, then slipped under the covers. You didn’t want to feel anything more than friendship toward him, but it was getting difficult. The chain with the keys was still around your neck, but you had left the door open in your closet to the security room. It was for Dean, in case he had wanted to go in there. You thought perhaps it might help him relax, knowing he could watch what was going on outside the bunker, or Batcave, as he had called it.

Your thoughts were still on him as you felt yourself drifting off to sleep. The way you felt in his arms and how easy it was to talk to him. The idea of living with him made you happier than you wanted to admit, to anyone, but more to yourself.

The last thought on your mind before sleep overtook you was you and Dean, lying in your bed, and he was holding you close. A happy smile even crossed your lips lazily just as the blackness took you for the night.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7

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toughguymatt · 5 months ago

Text

Night Drive

Part 3/3

Pairing: AU!Nick x Male OC (Adrian Rivers) Summary: Curiosity getting the better of him, Nick takes up an offer to go on a late night drive. Warnings/Content: Language. Oral sex. Third Person POV. Posted in three parts, so it's an easier read. Smut is in the final this part. A/N: When we say AU, we mean it. Nick bartends, is into cars, and knows how to drive? Crazy. Buckle up, get strapped in. Also, the FC for Adrian is Vinnie Hacker, but feel free to picture whoever you like.

Part One / Part Two

"Just... Yeah. Right up there." Gravel crunched beneath the tires as the car jostled to a stop. The overlook was one of Adrian's favorite spots. But it had been a while since he'd hidden away to watch the sunset, to imagine the lives of the blurry tiny specks in the distance, to tempt his toes at the edge.

The stars were brighter than Nick could see from the car, and it was a rarity to be able to just park somewhere without worrying about getting the car back in time. Movement from beside him caught his attention, and immediately Nick’s eyes fixated on Adrian.

Adrian interlocked his fingers and stretched them above his head with a moan, a sliver of skin peeking beneath the hem of his shirt. "So, Nick, have you been up here before?"

Nick swore he could see Adrian’s damn Adam’s apple move under the hum of his moan, but he didn’t have time to speculate long due to the way his shirt rid up like a fucking wet dream. He was… unfairly attractive. “Not up here, I don’t think.” He spoke as his eyes flickered back to the side of Adrian’s face, stomach fluttering now that Nick didn’t have the distraction of keeping them alive. “The view is pretty good, though.”

Adrian's gaze drifted from Nick's obscured blue eyes to his lips then back up again. "Yeah." he agreed. "It is." Nervousness stirred in Adrian's abdomen. He was completely okay with sitting and talking, but the urge to touch Nick was becoming a problem. Adrian blamed his kinesthetic leanings and the fact that he'd never seen a more kissable mouth in his entire life. Adrian wet his lips, leaned over the armrest, and reached forward to softly brush Nick's hair from his eyes. "Can you even see it?"

Nick’s heart picked up in pace and a blush bloomed over his cheeks. “If you thought I couldn’t see, it was pretty fucking risky to let me drive you over here.” Anxiousness pooled in his stomach despite the way his head tipped just slightly toward Adrian’s hand.

"Taking risks is part of the reward." Adrian’s fingers dug into Nick's shirt, curling the texture against his fingertips. "You got into a car with me in the first place. I think you knew what you were getting into." Adrian yanked at the fabric, pulling Nick into a kiss.

Whatever Nick was about to say died on his lips the moment Adrian's were pressing against them.

Adrian bit at Nick's bottom lip, gently sliding it from his teeth, before soothing it over with another kiss. "This console between us is about to piss me off." Adrian kissed Nick's jaw, beneath his chin, and against the pulse point of his neck. A quiet moan caught in Nick’s throat as it tilted back just enough for the press of Adrian’s lips. He smiled against Nick's warm skin. "We might have to do something about that.”

The vibration of Adrian’s words against his neck left Nick breathless. He lifted a hand to tangle in Adrian's hair. "Yeah..." Nick managed to say. "It was your dumbass idea to go on a drive. In a car," he exhaled, breathily, as a shiver rolled over his skin. He needed more.

Nick crashed their lips together, lips dragging down to Adrian’s jaw; mouthing his words against it: "You can push your seat back."

Adrian half-chuckled, half-moaned. "You can," he put his hand on Nick's chest," push yours." He shoved Nick back into the driver's seat before adjusting Nick's chair for him in a quick motion. "See?" Adrian gave Nick another kiss and drifted his hand to the waistband of Nick's pants. "Much better."

Nick’s stomach jumped in excitement as Adrian’s fingers bumped against his stomach. A sigh etched into his words. "Yeah, for you." His tongue brushed over his bottom lip in frustration. "Can barely fucking reach you now."

"You don't need to reach me," Adrian murmured against Nick's mouth as he unbuttoned Nick's pants.

“I want to.” Nick was embarrassed that he was already hard, face tinged with red, as a gasp of a moan vibrated against Adrian's lips. The zipper teeth of Nick’s jeans scratched at Adrian's knuckles as he palmed over Nick's underwear. Nick’s hand automatically rose to grasp at Adrian’s wrist loosely, self consciousness creeping back in at the worst moment.

"If you need me to stop," Adrian spoke quietly as he continued to touch, "just tell me."

Nick slowly let go of Adrian’s wrist as his other palm slid down Adrian's torso, finding the hem of his shirt so that the pads of his fingers grazed the skin underneath. “Don’t stop,” he whispered.

Adrian kept their mouths busy with feverish kisses as he thumbed over the head of Nick's cock. He enjoyed the weight of it in his hand, but he was growing impatient to feel it on his tongue. Nick, meanwhile, forgot how to breathe, eyes fluttering closed. "Fuck." Nick’s teeth lightly dug into Adrian's bottom lip, chasing his kiss.

Adrian leaned back with reddened lips, needing to see exactly what he was working with. He hooked his fingers against Nick's waistband, Nick’s cock straining deliciously against the fabric. Adrian’s mouth was watering. "Move your hips."

Nick exhaled sharply as he complied, albeit a second delayed, hips finally rolling up at his gentle command.

"Not so bossy now, huh?"

"Shutthefuck up.”

Adrian kept eye contact as he spit into his palm. “Make me.” His own erection was pressed against the center console as he gripped Nick’s cock with slender, tattooed fingers. He kept his motions firm but gentle, enjoying the sounds vibrating into their kisses, as slickness built up beneath his hand. Adrian sighed against Nick’s mouth after a final, hungry kiss. “Need to taste all of you,” Adrian mumbled. He edged downward, keeping his hand pumping at the base.

Nick wet his lips and slid his palm along Adrian’s back. Nick was so hard in Adrian’s hand that he could barely think.

Adrian softly licked at the head of Nick’s cock, before taking it completely into his mouth with a moan. Adrian looked how honey tasted, and somehow, his tongue felt just as smooth. The first lick to Nick’s cock had him fighting to keep his hips still as he sighed heavily into the air. The sight of Adrian’s tongue brushing over his heated skin would definitely not be forgotten anytime soon.

“Fuck, Adrian,” Nick whispered, momentarily throwing his left arm over his eyes. If he watched the way his lips moved over him too intently, this wouldn’t last long. Eventually, his arm slipped away, falling against the side of the car as his other hand sunk deep into Adrian’s hair. Nick moaned again, gaze half-lidded and face permanently stained pink as his knuckles tightened in the strands, tugging as he struggled to keep his breathing even.

Adrian groaned around Nick’s cock, keeping his pace as his jaw ached. The pain was worth the weight of warm skin on his tongue, but it wasn’t enough. Adrian lifted up to catch his breath. “Nick,” he spoke hoarsely. “Harder. Pull my hair harder.”

Nick's pupils were blown, his cock twitching at the low scratch of Adrian’s voice. It echoed in his ears, rolling over him in waves. "Jesus. Okay," Both hands buried themselves into Adrian’s hair, fingernails scratching along his scalp. He pulled at the amber strands roughly as his hips shifted under him.

Adrian near-whimpered at the simultaneous pull of his hair and Nick’s desperate intake of breath, but instead he focused on his up-and-down motion.

"You're gonna make..." A sharp breath punctuated Nick’s words, tone tapering off into a borderline whine until he cut himself off, tightening his grip even further. This time the tug was a warning. "Gonna come."

Adrian’s eyes welled with tears as Nick hit the back of his throat with spilled warmth. He raised gently, mouth closed, and moved to the passenger side door. He opened it just enough to spit onto the pavement. He exhaled as the door shut, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You good?” Adrian leaned back over to give Nick a chaste kiss. “You better be,” he whispered near his mouth with a smile.

"After that? Damn. Give a guy a second," Nick whispered back, lips curling to return his smile, but instead he closed their distance again. His nose bumped against Adrian’s before brushing their lips together briefly as he took a moment to calm down. His palm drifted down Adrian’s arm as he shivered, blue eyes still darkened as he tried not to melt back into his seat.

Nick wasn’t sure how much time passed before he was finally able to move; tucking himself back into his boxers and zipping up his pants. The flush that remained covering his skin was now in part to embarrassment. He just let himself be… dick out in a stranger's car. Yet Nick still took a moment to drift his eyes over Adrian in appreciation. He let out a soft exhale as he wet his lips. Adrian’s features were somehow soft and defined at the same time, creating a near otherworldliness about him. Nick tried not to feel a spark of smug satisfaction at the way Adrian’s hair was even further mussed; unruly curls framing his head like a goddamn halo. "You good?"

“Absolutely.” Adrian grinned. He could still taste Nick in his mouth. “I’d consider this a very successful first date.” He fluttered his eyes with a shimmy of his shoulders. “Wouldn’t you? But, no, seriously. I’d really like to take you out. Properly.”

A smile tugged at Nick’s lips, baring teeth, as a short laugh followed at the dorky gesture. Nick was met with both the strangest and strongest urge to kiss him again for it. He didn’t, instead lifting his hand to brush hair away from Adrian’s forehead.

“Maybe after I get back,” Adrian leaned his head back on the seat, gazing lovingly at Nick, “we can figure something out?”

“Yeah.” Nick wasn’t even sure what a proper date even meant. Yet for some unfathomable reason, he almost found himself wanting to agree nonetheless. He dropped his arm between them, resting back on the console. “I’ll think about it.” Nick wet his lips and leaned his head back a bit, hair falling back against his forehead. “So am I driving myself home, or do you want to be the one to do that?”

"I'll drive you back." Adrian gave Nick a final peck on the lips before exiting out of the passenger's side.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Adrian,” Nick whispered as the slick of Adrian’s tongue brushed against his own. “We’ve gotta… stop…” His eyes were glossy under the faint light of the streetlamp just outside the window. Nick kissed him again deeply, swallowing the moans that came from the other. Nick shuddered. “Okay… okay…” he panted. He slackened his grip on Adrian’s shirt and pressed his palms flat against Adrian’s shoulders, pushing him back. If they didn’t stop now, Nick was at serious risk of kissing him for another half hour. Or having a repeat of earlier.

“Okay,” Adrian agreed, nodding. “Stopping now.” His hand caught the back of Nick’s head, and he tugged him back for another kiss that left both of them dizzy.

“Not fair.” Nick uttered against his lips; the slow brush of Adrian’s over his own could be addicting if he wasn’t careful. The last time Nick was head over heels for someone, it didn’t end well. His hands were shaky as he cupped Adrian’s face between them, thumbs grazing over his cheekbones. Nick gave him a pointed look before he quickly darted in to press a final kiss to the side of his mouth. “That’s all you get,” he murmured, a slight grin pulling at his lips as he finally worked up the strength to leave his ass alone and settle back into the passenger's seat.

“Am I going to see you again?”

Nick dragged a hand through his messy hair and straightened his work uniform. His previously crisp button down shirt was wrinkled all to hell. “Maybe.” His hand grasped for the handle of the door, pushing it open.

He heard the roll down of Adrian’s window before he even reached it. He ducked his head down to say goodbye, but he didn’t have a chance to get the words out as he felt Adrian’s hand wrap around his forearm, tugging him gently downward.

A gasp caught in Nick’s throat, but his head automatically dipped down. His eyes darted to Adrian’s lips, like he hadn’t just spent the better part of the night finding out exactly what they felt like. A half-groan half-laugh escaped him as he pressed their lips together through the open window. When they broke apart, they were both smiling.

“Get out of here,” Nick whispered raspily. “You’ve got a plane to catch.” Nick reached through the window, brushing back Adrian’s hair away from his eyes, before giving it an impromptu ruffle. “Good luck on your thing,” he murmured before stepping away from him, finally turning on his heel to head back to his apartment. He could feel Adrian’s eyes on him until he was out of sight.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Nick was as quiet as Nick could possibly be as he entered the silent apartment. He barely got through the door before he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Adrian: miss me yet?

His stomach filled with fucking butterflies at the sight of his name and the grin that spread across Nick’s face made his cheeks hurt. Thank God his brothers were asleep right now. He’d never hear the end of it.

Nick just stared at the phone for a moment, back pressing against the closed front door. He was still grinning to himself as he tapped out a reply.

Nick: you wish. Nick: goodnight Adrian.

#sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fic #someone please tell me how to tag things without using the chris or matt tags for it to be seen thank u #toughguymatt

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abbythewritor · 2 years ago

Text

"Janitor" Fnaf Security Breach x Fem reader. *2*

Description: What happens when Y/n L/n lands a cleaning Job at the mega pizza plex? How will she handle all the Animatronics falling for her?

Warnings: Slight drama, blood, and jealousy, but other than that, none.

Rated: PG-13.

Other things:

-Bonnie and Foxie aren't dismantled, thanks to Gregory.

-Cassie and Gregory are in High School, working as security guards to keep Freddy and everyone else safe.

-I added a new Daycare attendant named Jester, who will be introduced later, and of course, the attendees got new Upgrades, thanks to Gregory.

-The OCs I will be using aren't mind, and the User names will be linked at the end of the chapter; the credits go to them :)

-Finally, no adult content will be included in this story.

Enjoy the second chapter :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wow! Good Job, newbie, we cleaned up in under 2 hours!" Dj's room was finally thoroughly cleaned, and thanks to you, your bright Idea of using some sort of Shop-vac to pick up toys, candy, and other stuff left by kids made this whole Job thing a little easier.

Cyrus, who had just finished putting the vac away, stood by as you sat on the floor, sipping a freshly opened juice box. Looking at his fazz watch, the time read 1:15pm, and a satisfied smile formed his lips. "If we keep this up, we can reach the daycare area by 5. You get the gist of things quickly, Newbie; I knew you'd get the hang of it. Plus, I think you went to the top of Mr. Dj's new friend's list." Chuckling, you sipped more of your juice. "I'm not his friend, Cryus; I just complimented his sunglasses." Cryus sat next to you, slightly nudging your shoulder. "Yeah, and everything else. I knew you didn't say anything, but I can easily see a person's body language when they're geeking out. So you're a robot fan, huh?" Your eyes rolled. "Glamrocks, actually." His eyes widened. "No way, really? Wow, is that why you took the job? Wait... you're not planning on anything weird with Freddy and the others, are you-OUCH!! Hey!! Hey!" He laughed when you hit his shoulder.

"Take your mind out of the gutter; I got this job for the money. Besides, I may be a geek, but at least I'm not like one of those Crazed fans who always kiss their posters." Cyrus nodded. "True, we had a fair of those people come here, not to Freddy, but foxy, surprisingly. Poor guy, we had to close his meet and greet early one day because an older woman came to him with his shirt off." "PFFFT" Apple juice came out of your nose as you and he began to die with laughter. Not believing him, you turned to him with surprise once you stopped coughing. "Really? You're shitting me." His head shook. "Nope, not kidding; I got the whole thing on tape if you want to see it later?" Sighing, your head shook.

"Can this place even surprise me more? First, the pizza here is actually good, Second, I meet a Gianormous spider, who's not a human-eating creature, and finally, I get told a story where Foxy almost got molested." Chuckling, Cyrus put his arms behind his back. "You'd be surprised at what happens at the daycare; Poor Sun has to deal more with the kid's actions than Jester and Moon." Your head tilted.

"Jester and Moon?"

"Oh, they are the attendants with Sun, but their moment to shine is when Nap-Time happens. Jester was meant for both morning and Day, but he takes Tag too seriously." Smirking, you leaned onto your right elbow, now fully onto the floor. "Sounds like me; I hate kids." "Same...but someone has to take care of them while the Parents are gone, the same as we have to take care of this place..." Standing up, he stretched.

"Alright, if we head to the Glamrocks dressings rooms now, we'll still be able to make it while they are still performing, which makes perfect timing for us to clean. Now, being the Geek that you are...I doubt they would be out now, but don't worry, I will give you plenty of chances to see them when that time comes." Nodding, you adjusted your hat. "No problem, not in a rush when it comes to that anyway; I know how busy they all can be. Especially Freddy." Cyrus smiled at you. "Glad you understand, Newbie; now come on. DJ! WE OUTA HERE!!"

"Right on! Thank you, Cyrus and little lady! Don't be a stranger, ok?"

Chuckling, your co-worker held a thumbs up towards the tunnel. "Will do! Say Hi to Mini Dj for us!! Come on, Y/n, let's head to the VIP area." Nodding, you followed behind as he began to walk, grabbing the mop bucket as the both of you headed that way.

In all reality, Mr. Dj's room was pretty neat, even though it was large and a lot to clean; you had fun getting to know the spider, the area, and Cyrus a little more.

This job won't be so bad if the other animatronics are excellent as Dj.

Just as long as you keep your head up and do not embarrass yourself in front of the Glammrocks, you should be fine...

Right?

..........

...........

"Cyrus! What are you doing here?!" With a lot of walking, you both made it to the VIP area.

It was huge, right next to the entrances, as many different colored rooms were aligned inside a vast wall, each color representing a different Glamrock and their personalities.

Besides the rooms, you were taking in the mall itself, as the true size of it through your eyes was amazing. Multiple floors, stores, and people surrounded the structure, as familiar music from the Glamrocks played throughout the area.

Many children, adults, and teens walked passed the screen in many different directions, the camera focusing on you as you tried your best not to bump into any people, the mop bucket still being pulled by your grasp.

Not being bothered by Cyrus, he was heading over to a familiar yet older boy, who was shocked to see your Co-worker at this moment. "Gregory! My man!" Giving each other a hug, Gregory fisted his shoulder. "Look at you, man; Summer treated you well." Cyrus was shocked by his comment. "Look at me?! Look at you! You are all grown up! Just yesterday, you and Freddy were being chased by killer Vanny and the others! Just think of how it would go down now!." The boy chuckled while scratching his neck. "It was 8 years ago, Cyrus; Vanny's gone now, unable to hurt anyone again." "Thanks to you! Man, you Kicked that bunny's but! From the beginning, you knew she was involved with the Animatronics going a wall; now, none of them are shut down because of you. Look! You're even freddies personal security guard! How's that going?" Gregory slumped. "It's tiring; Freddy takes every chance of the day to see every. Single. Child. It's annoying enough that I must deal with the crying Kid's parents above it all. They say some...vulgar things..." Cyrus chuckled while his hands went to his hips. "That's Freddy for yah, and yes, sure, the parents suck, but hey, on the bright side, you get to spend more time with him, right?" Gregory shrugged. " I guess your right? But since he's always busy, I tend to hang out with Cassie more than anything. But enough about me, what about you? How's life going for you, and who is that? Is she your girlfriend?" He looked to you, who was being an airhead and was too busy looking around more, stars filling your eyes. Cringing at the sight of you, Cyrus turned to Gregory. "One, I still live with my mom; two, that is Y/n, the newbie; and three, no, she is not my girlfriend." "Huh." Gregory crossed his arms. "That's the Newbie? She doesn't look shy and timid to me-" "Yeah, Dean said that to Dj too...but she's a total geek; you should have seen her when I beat her at a race, anyway, are the gang still performing?" Gregory nodded. "The Guys are; Foxie and Chica don't perform until later tonight; they're practicing for their Duo downstairs. Do you guys need to clean their rooms right now?" Cyrus nodded. "Might as well, since we are on time; we just want to get it cleaned before they get done so fan girl over here....doesn't get too overwhelmed." They both looked to you, who was standing there like an idiot, who played with the ends of her hair and fiddled with your Tee-shirt. Gregory laughed at his statement, his hand lifting his hat up slightly. "I get that; I know Bonnie and Freddie can get a little touchy around new people, so I'll try to keep them distracted until you are done." Cryus patted his back. "Thanks, Gregory, always the hero; hey, Newbie!" Getting your attention, you looked at him as he motioned to you with his thumb. "Let's get started; follow me!" Nodding your head, you grabbed the mope bucket to follow him, walking past Gregory as he told you the plan, both of you heading to Freddie's room first.

Gregory, who just shook his head, sighed as familiar sounds of doors rang through his ears. Turning, he saw Freddy and Familiar animatronics coming toward him, which made him smile.

"Freddy!" He yelled, catching the attention of the bear, who was talking to Bonnie on his right side. "Gregory!" He replied, tail wagging as the boy ran up to him, latching himself onto the robot. "Look at Ya, boy, all dressed up and everything," Foxy spoke, referring to his uniform as the boy adjusted his hat. "Yeah, I never expected this outfit to be this fancy; it feels kinda weird." Monty glared at him. "You're making it feel weird, kid; it looks good on ya." Bonnie nodded. "I agree; besides, it's better than wearing those clothes daily, right?" Gregory huffed, his arms crossing. "At least those close were comfy." Freddy chuckled while putting a hand on his back. "Well, I'm proud of you, superstar; it's a rare opportunity for a high schooler to get this job; you should feel honored." The boy crossed his arms. "I'll feel honored when the stupid parents stop bullying me. Everyone besides him and Monty laughed, Freddy looking at him again. "Greggory, if I can ask, is there a way can we go to our rooms yet to recharge? There is a malfunction I need to check; my left eye seems to be a bit more blurry than usual." "I wish you guys could, but Cyrus has a Newbie with him; they're cleaning your rooms as they speak." Bonnie's eyes widened. "Theirs a new Janitor? Why isn't Dean here then?" Gregory shrugged. "Dunno, but Cyrus doesn't want to overwhelm her, so it's best if you guys do something else for now." Freddy nodded with a smile. "No problem, superstar, we'll think of something." Foxy did a stretch. "Yar...might as well be heading to my ship; I don't want Roxy putting her dirty paws on me, gold..." Bonnie's eyes rolled. "I told you, foxy, it's not roxy who steals it; kids sometimes swallow those things, you know?"

"Doesn't matter; my gold matters too much; I need to protect it." Watching Foxie walk away, trying his best to avoid crowds and kids, Bonnie just sighed. "Him and his Gold, I'm off to go play bowling. El-chip has bets of years of free tacos if I can get a perfect strike score; wanna join, Monty-Monty?" The gator just huffed, a pissed-off look hinting on his face as Freddy and the bunny grew concerned. He walked away from the group, probably heading to Gator Golf, as the three watched, unable to do anything else about it. Gregory sighed, looking at Freddy. "Did his guitar break again?" Freddy nodded sadly. "The instrument is not what it used to be, he got it before Vanny corrupted him and the others, and it was the only thing that could keep him calm. But now, it keeps breaking during performances, which concerns people and his fans." Gregory's brows furrowed. "Can't he just get it fixed?" Bonnie shook his head. "No, he doesn't trust anyone with it, especially when Cyrus switched to Daycare; he is the only one who can fix his guitar." "Then why not ask Cyrus to fix it himself? It's not like he'd turn Monty down, right?" Freddy sighed. "It's not that simple for Monty; he cares about Cyrus a lot, but since Cyrus switched to daycare, it made him angry enough to be a threat. When Vanny corrupted everyone, he went straight to Cyrus, doing something horrible that none of us can forget. " "Wow...and he doesn't want to hurt him again...I understand...Vanny caused him that fear, and to get rid of it must be hard." Bonnie nodded. "Yes, But I'm afraid for him..." Gregory tilted his head. "Why is that Bonnie?" sighing more, Bonnie looked to Monty, who seemed to be kneeling down to a Toddler, who touched the Gator's snout with pure love and fondness. Even the gator didn't show his genuine emotions; he tried to put on his best face for the toddler, not letting his Guitar or the past get to him. "Each day, that fear grows more and more, kids are getting ignored, he lashes out if nothing going right, and heck, even Roxy can't put him back in line. If something doesn't happen to help the poor guy."

"He'll just end up getting worse, day by day."

......................................................................................

"And finally, we are done!!!" It took a while, but the rooms of the glam rocks were finally cleaned.

Cyrus was impressed as you cleaned Montie's room by yourself, picking up every destroyed object, dirt, and even leftover presents from fans on the floor or the walls.

You ensured not to touch the robot's personal stuff, as everything in the room was essential and organized. This wasn't even a part of your payroll, but doing the extra stuff made at least your OCD ten times better.

Shocked as hell, his mouth was open wide as you stood up, whipping the sweat from your forehead. "It took a lot of elbow grease, but I think I managed to get it mostly cleaned-" "MOSTLY CLEANED?!" You squealed a bit as Cyrus's hands went everywhere. "THE WHOLE ROOM IS SPOTLESS!!!" You chuckled. "Yeah, guess I got carried away; I hope that isn't a problem, Cyrus." "Are you kidding?" You looked up at him smiling. "That isn't a problem, Y/n; it's a great skill to have, I wish I was like that when I was little, but of course, I had to be a pain in the ass." "Well, I am not like that; I get terrible OCD when things are misplaced, so cleaning Monty's room was basically therapy for me." You replied, feeling a hard slap coming from him onto your back. "I'm glad, newbie!" He chirped, throwing a towel over his left shoulder. "Monty can get pretty angry sometimes, even after the whole hacking incident; things have changed, and doing this for him makes the Gater a little bit happier each day." He then sighed.

"Though, that's all we could do; he didn't used to be like this." Your brows furrowed."What do you mean?" Cyrus was silent for a while before looking to the ground. "Before I transferred to Daycare, I was a mechanic for the Glamrocks." Your eyes widened. "Really? That's cool!" He chuckled. "Yeah, it was cool, alright, being able to hang out with the most excellent Robots in history, Freddy, Bonnie, Foxy, Chica, Roxy, Monty. Honestly, out of all six of them, I seemed more attached to Monty than everything; we were best friends. Whenever he malfunctioned, he came to me with the saddest eyes, or when Roxy or even Foxy said something wrong, we would always talk about the situation and work the stuff out."

He paused before pouting, trying his best not to cry just a little. "I fixed his damn guitar before every. Single. Show. His temper tantrum was the death of me of my time there, but somehow I always managed to fix it and make the gator happy. I miss that feeling....but when the glitches happened, and Freddy and the gang started to act weirder than usual, the company switched me over to daycare, which hadn't been touched by the virus at the time." Your eyebrows furrowed, and one of your hands was on his back as he struggled to get the following words out, his eyes looking at the guitar Monty o-so cares about. "He hated me leaving, and trust me, I didn't want to transfer either, but it was for my and other people's safety as well; Monty was like a brother to me. Sometimes when I try to talk to him now, I get an angry huff, and he walks away. It hurts, yes, but it's not his fault...I should have stayed when I should..." His hands ran through his hair, and shaky breaths and sad motions came from him, which made your heart instantly break. You don't know why he's telling you this when you only met him today, but hearing the story of his and Monty's bond is hard to ignore.

"Cryus...I-I don't know what to say..." He chuckled sadly, looking at you. "You don't have to say anything, Newbie....what's in the past is done, and now what I can try to do to lift his spirits is clean, clean, and clean....thank you for your help, Y/n, but, I think we should cut training today short." Your eyes widened with surprise. "A-Are you sure? We still have a lot to do-" Cyrus smirked. "Go home; night shift people will take care of the Daycare area tonight, just as long as you're ready to clean again tomorrow, alright?" Watching him get up, you were confused at first but understood since the Situation and tension were high right now; no, you nodded in agreement. "Alright, but at least let me finish up here; there are just some holes I need to patch up." He snorted at your stubbornness. "You don't quit, do you?" Shrugging, you smirked. "What can I say? You hired a germaphobe." Shaking his head with a smile, he rummaged through his pockets before throwing you something. "Alright, here." Catching it, you looked to see it was a pair of keys. "Monty's room will need to be locked when you are done; he rarely goes in here, so you don't have to worry about him coming in anytime soon." You nodded again. "Alright...thanks." "Just, when you're done, give the keys to Gregory; we don't want anything happening if those keys are found by kids or teens, okay, Newbie?"

Saluting to him, your face went cute. "Yes, sir!" He cringed. "Just finish up you doof." And with that, Cyrus left you in Montie's room.

Looking around and out of windows to see if no one was coming, your body turned, looking at Monty's broken yet elegant guitar.

Hearing his story replay in your head caused your heart to break while staring at it more, as your hands gently grasped the large instrument.

You play a little guitar at home, and you had a fair share of broken instruments, special ones. So hearing that story, knowing Monty's pain and anger, it's like looking in a mirror.

Everyone has bad days, but this Monty has been dealing with a lot of them for many bad days.

Yes, you are a Janitor, and Yes, you shouldn't be thinking this, and yes, it's only your first day, but if you were going to work here forever, you might as well start building a relationship with your co-workers and even the glam rocks. Feeling the guitar, every inch, string, and flaw this machine has, you knew exactly how to fix it. "Alright, Monty, you suffered enough days of anger......Now..."

"It's time to make things right."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monty's guitar :)

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shes4twnksinatrnchct · 4 months ago

Text

Hell of a Show

Jake Kiszka x fem oc

Fifteen years after resigning from Greta Van Fleet, for reasons undisclosed to the public, Coley Payne is asked by her former band members to tell her side of the story.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit language, angst, fluff, first love, drug and alcohol abuse, mental health struggles, character death, familial grief, reference to sexual situations, *explicit sexual situations (smut warnings will be mentioned pertaining to each chapter it occurs in).

Please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and enjoy!

***LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED***

Prologue

2039

His shaky fingers curl around the key in the ignition, freeing it and shutting the car off as the sun glares down on him through the windshield.

The blonde brick of the quaint house fills him with an anxious dread because of who resides within its walls—and perhaps it wouldn’t be weighing so heavy on his heart if the last time he saw her hadn’t ended the way it did.

The blacked-out shades of his sunglasses pair perfectly with his blank expression, a heavy breath leaving him as he gets out and shuts the door.

A familiar brunette is walking back to the front porch from the mailbox, already thumbing through a stack of envelopes and picking one out.

“She’s not gonna read it.” Collins informs her aunt’s ex-boyfriend, handing the unread letter to him.

Glancing down at it, he sees it’s from Sam.

Their last ditch effort to coax Coley back into the limelight has been on the cusp of communicating via carrier pigeon being that she threatened to start blocking phone numbers if anyone else mentioned a word to her about it.

Josh, Sam, and Danny have all extended invitations and Olive Branches—though the latter has been unnecessary because her leaving wasn’t messy or disrespectful.

Contrary to popular belief amongst fans, there was no big catastrophe that got Coley kicked out.

In fact, it would have been easier on Jake if there had been.

And, now, his only saving grace for showing up unannounced at her house is that he’s the only one who hasn’t tried to contact her.

“Is she home?” He asks the young woman, Collins stepping onto the front porch.

“She is.” She flatly tells him.

“Can you let her know I’m here?”

Collins turns to look at him, briefly.

The last time Coley and Jake spoke in person was the weekend of Elton John’s 90th birthday celebration she and Collins attended—along with the guys.

That was two years ago, and though Collins never knew the details of their reunion, she could put two and two together when her aunt stormed into their hotel room the next morning in nothing but the shirt Jake had worn the night before, ferociously packed her things, and told her niece,“We’re leaving. Now.”

“I don’t know. Are you gonna piss her off again?” Collins quips, furrowing her brows.

Though she’s only about twenty years older than she was back then, she’s still that smart-mouthed kid that would kick him out of his own bed in the middle of the night to curl up next to her aunt—her and her younger brother, both.

“That’s the only reason I’ve been placed on this Earth.” He tells her somewhat impatiently.

She rolls her eyes and steps inside the house, calling out, “Aunt Coley!”

“Yeah?!” He hears her say back.

A box fan is the only sound in the house aside from the low speaking of the TV from the living room while the heat from summer infiltrates the home in Pigeon Forge, Tennessee.

She sweeps her dirty blonde hair off of her neck, pulling it into a clip while following the sound of her niece’s voice and breezing by the narrow table in the hallway that’s stacked with recent months-worth of letters she’s been ignoring from former close friends—along with the phone calls and texts she’d magically forget to return.

“There’s a man here to see you.” Collins informs her with a lack of enthusiasm.

“HVAC?” Coley inquires with relief, having been battling the fight of no air conditioning for days, now.

He feels as if he’s going to faint the closer her steps grow to the front door, his breath growing all the more complicated to keep steady as her voice permeates through the house.

“Unless your ex-boyfriend started a new career—no.” She replies.

A smile takes his features hostage at the sound of Coley’s laugh, a sound he’s missed more than he’d been able to put into words for the last fifteen years—instead scrambling to hear it in the joy of other women and hoping that it’d make him as happy, to no avail.

Coley laughs because she assumes Collins is just bullshitting her, and the stir in Jake’s gut worsens when she abruptly stops upon realize it’s not a joke.

“What?”

“He’s outside. He told me to tell you he’s here.” The younger woman shrugs, watching her aunt’s face display a multitude of emotions—settling on one of ornery frustration.

The door swings open, only leaving a screen door between the two of them.

Blue eyes go wide, the wind being beat out of her the moment she sees him.

Immediately, she’s snapping around to make sure Collins hasn’t followed her to be nosy.

Before Jake can properly explain the reason for his visit, her nostrils are flaring, and she’s hissing out a sharp, “Seriously? They sent you?” while she opens the door and steps onto the porch with her arms crossed.

Irritation leaks from her pores as she stares up at Jake and waits for him to say anything back.

He’s too focused on the fact that she seemingly appears to look even better than she did the last time they saw one another, aging like fine wine.

The explanation he planned to present has evaporated from his mind, and the longer he looks at her, the more dumb he feels himself become.

“Hi,” Is all he can muster, just like the last time he’d been face to face with her despite the fact it was the first time in thirteen years they’d crossed paths.

Only the lack of conversation last time was easier to blame on the amount of people present, that is until they both got a couple drinks in themselves and slipped from the crowd.

Now, it’s only the two of them, bright eyed and sober, and Jake can’t manage more than one syllable.

Coley’s just as disoriented, only she’s better at hiding it, disguising it in anger when she asks, “What the hell are you doing here?”

It’s now that Jake has to regain his balls and composure, clearing his throat.

“I was in town and thought I’d swing by.” He rubs his nose, not even trying to hide his nervousness with being confronted by her so directly.

“You were in town?” She inquires, raising her brows.

The tone of her voice and bitchy expression on her face melts him out of his passive shyness, his eyes narrowing at her.

“Yeah.” Jake states, leaving no room for doubt, but Coley finds one reason not to buy his bullshit…

“You were casually in town four hours away from your home?” She flatly asks, next.

“You’re not gonna invite me inside?” He avoids her question blatantly, a smirk coming to his lips that further stokes at her vexed demeanor.

“I don’t let strangers in my house.” She’s quick to rebuttal. “Especially when they’re here to harass me on their brother’s behalf because he can’t accept a simple, ‘no’.”

“You were expecting Josh to accept, ‘no’?” Jake scoffs, a dark brow darting upward over his sunglasses.

“Being that we’re all at the grown age of forty-three? Yeah, Jake. I did expect him to.”

Ignoring her strike, he states, “You look good,” while shamelessly eyeing her. “Are you getting shorter?”

“You look tired.” Coley fires back. “You should probably lay off the booze. And the pot. And the road.”

Her last line has a bite to it that he can admit is somewhat warranted with their past.

“That was my plan until I had to come down here and make sure you were alive.” Scoffing it out, he glances around the yard—never having seen her house for himself.

Coley watches him do so, using his distracted disposition to take a moment to appreciate his own good looks.

He’s still keeping his hair long, and his facial hair thicker, and his skin is still disgustingly wrinkle-free despite the sun he’s soaked in through the years.

“Well, I’m alive.” She says, her tone rushing him to finish up and leave, but he continues taking his time. “And well.”

He’s looking down at her again with the last addition to her reassurance.

“Are you?”

“Yes.” Coley nods.

“Hmm.”

“‘Hmm’? Why are you ‘hmm’ing? What’s there to ‘hmm’?” She demands, next, her eyes narrowing at him as the words topple out of her and her head shakes.

“I mean, adamantly avoiding your friends is not the actions of someone who’s well.”

“I’m not avoiding anybody. I’m just avoiding whatever it is Josh and Constance are working on.” Coley informs him, her mouth spitting out the name of their former manager while simultaneously handling his brother’s with care.

“It’s not just Josh and Connie. All of us are involved—” He informs her, throwing his hand out to gently grasp her arm when she lets out a sarcastic laugh and turns to go back inside as he adds, “—And we don’t feel comfortable speaking for you.” It’s finished out genuinely, Coley glaring at the black screens over his eyes, fighting to see the brown of his irises through them while he forces himself to drop her arm.

“Then don’t. It’s not anybody’s business what happened. That’s why I’ve gone out of my way not to talk about it publicly.” She reminds him.

Without explicitly mentioning their last conversation, she once again takes a dig at him.

It’s the source of such hostility, between years wasted on him and tears cried over him.

But he can easily blame her for the same sins that she blames him for—which all boil down to simply wanting different things.

He clenches his jaw briefly as he swallows his pride and starts, “Coley, I was an ass the last time we spoke—” He stops when she pulls his sunglasses from his eyes to make him look her in the eyes upon the realization he’s about to apologize, and he watches as she tosses the shades to the chair sitting close to the door, biting his tongue when she crosses her arms again and peers up at him. “—I can admit that, and I can say, ‘I’m sorry,’ but you’re not completely blameless in all of this either.”

“And this is why I’m not speaking about this shit.” She argues. “Because you still have it in your head that me leaving the band for my family was some unforgivable trespass.”

“You leaving the band wasn’t something that needed forgiveness—but it wasn’t just the band you left, was it?” He asks calmly, knowing that he has her pinned, and has always had her pinned with the question that she still refuses to acknowledge fifteen years later.

“Get back in your car, drive off to Nashville, or whatever interstate you won’t stay off of, and leave me alone.” She says, turning again to open the door but he kicks his boot out to shut it once more.

“Coley.” He mumbles and she shakes her head and won’t look at him, teary eyes keeping on the door inches from her face. “Look, nobody sent me here, okay? I just…” He trails off as he tries to put into words what he’s trying to say. “…Kayce called me after Connie reached out to him trying to get in contact with you about it and I got worried.”

Of course her oldest nephew had turned to Jake after Coley explicitly stated she didn’t want to talk about it.

Kayce and his little brother Rhett had spent more time trying to convince their aunt to participate in whatever documentary Josh had been cooking up about the band ever since the singer had mentioned it two years prior.

“He thinks it’s important that you talk about it, because the more you don’t, the more people take it as an opportunity to believe whatever made-up bullshit they’ve created to explain it for themselves. And I agree with him completely. We all do. What’s out there is so far from the truth, and it's not fair to you.”

She doesn’t reply immediately, knowing the point he's making is a good one, having her own various frustrations with the lies being spun around her departure from the group.

They'd all been reading lies for years surrounding why she left the band: imaginary tales of her drug addiction issues, how difficult she had been to work with, and her lack of talent which resulted in dead weight the three instrumentalists had to carry--all of which were completely alleged, only being speculated by people who either had nothing better to do, or begrudged individuals who Coley perhaps wasn't the nicest to for good reason.

She had always kept her mouth shut and just let everyone talk, requesting that her niece and nephews, family, friends, and former bandmates do the same...

And here's her opportunity to speak up for herself, in her own words, with the support and backing of her former bandmates--making her words, their words.

Jake isn't going to grovel with her, not having the energy to at the moment, and relents.

Removing his foot from the door to free her, he steps to grab his sunglasses so he can leave.

Coley turns to face him while he walks away, and as he's stepping down the stairs of her front porch, he comes to a halt when she finally asks, “How long is all of this going to take?”

1 YEAR LATER

In 2012, rock band Greta Van Fleet was born from the outskirts of Frankenmuth, Michigan.

The original line-would exchange and expand to consist of founder Jacob Kiszka (Lead Guitarist), his brothers: Samuel Kiszka (Bassist), and Joshua Kiszka (Lead Vocalist), as well as Daniel Wagner (Drum Kit), and Coley “C.J.” Payne (Rhythm Guitarist, Backing Vocalist).

In 2024, the established group of five would shift, as Payne would announce her departure from the band.

Neither Greta Van Fleet, nor C.J. Payne made a comment on the matter, initially.

The silence was only broken when C.J. gave her only on-record citing of her split the year to follow.

When asked why she took her final bow with the band, Payne stated: “Our differences were more irreconcilable than artistic.”

Fifteen years later, Greta Van Fleet is disclosing for the first time publicly why her run with them came to an end…

Six scenes are laid out separately, taking place in six separate locations–one at a lakehouse in Michigan, two occurring in Tennessee—East Nashville, and Pigeon Forge—the fourth is a house in California, the fifth an office in Detroit, and, finally, a golf resort in Florida…

CONSTANCE LOBATTI (former manager): I worked closely with the band as they toured from 2017 to 2024. They were great fun to work with and had a very chaotic way about them, but they also tried to be respectful of management so they were easy to get along with. Well…the boys were pretty easy to get along with.

JOSH KISZKA (Vocals, Greta Van Fleet): Where’s my fucking camera? Oh, oh, yes I see now. I need to take these glasses off, anyway—I don’t want to come across too prestigious…is someone bringing me a beverage?

SAMUEL KISZKA (Bass, Greta Van Fleet): …So…we can say anything about each other, and nobody’s gonna sue for defamation? Can we confirm that?

DANIEL WAGNER (Drums, Greta Van Fleet): None of this screams “PR nightmare” at all.

JAKE KISZKA (Lead Guitar, Greta Van Fleet): This is kind of a loaded conversation to be having at 6:12 in the evening, isn’t it?

COLEY PAYNE (Rhythm Guitar, Greta Van Fleet): Whose idea was this, again?

#greta van fleet #gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka gvf #jake gvf #jake kiszka series #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka angst #jake kiszka x oc #jake kiszka fluff #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic

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dragonbe-writing · 2 years ago

Text

~Motor Mouth~

Captain John Price x Female! OC (no name)

Price is fixing a car. He covered in sweat, fingers stained with grease, hair messy. She can hardly stand it when he starts talking sweet nothings to the car...

NSFW. Semi-public sex, LOTS of praise, reader is drooling over Price

2.5K words

Request are open! I really appreciate any feedback, so if you like it, comment!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was hotter than all hell outside. She was wearing as few layers as the military would allow, hair pulled up and a hat shoved on her head. She had a towel tied to her belt loop to wipe herself off.

She got an insulated cup from the cabinets, filling it with ice and pouring some coke in it. She topped it off with jack. She peeked out the window, seeing John across the way working on the truck.

They had been driving around after the last mission, and the truck broke down. He seemed to know what the issue was and how to fix it, mumbling about “the alternator” and “transmission”. She didn’t understand any of it, and even if she did she kind of…. zoned out while he was talking. The way his face was stern with concentration, brows furrowed, mustache twitching, and talking her through the issues with his hands. His big, strong, beautiful hands.

She left the kitchen, walking over to the small hut he had set up with the cup. The truck was jacked up so he could get under it easier, only having to crouch. He was digging underneath the car, her shadow blocking his light and pulling him away.

“Hello, love. What can I do for you?” he asked, stepping out from under the car.

He was absolutely breathtaking. She let her eyes travel over him, taking in every detail. He was in his classic boots and pants, which fit him well. He had taken off his top shirt, revealing the white undershirt beneath it. It was no longer tucked in, the material waving around his belt buckle and the shirt stained with grease. Sweat dripped down his body, covering him in a nice shimmer. He must have scratched his beard, leaving a dark stain behind. His hair was messy, going every which way and highlighting his obvious attempts to fix it.

“You alright?” he asked, blue eyes sparkling with amusement as she ogled. She took in a breath, tearing her eyes away from his incredibly muscular, sweaty, exposed arms and meeting his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry. I brought you a jack and coke,” she held it out to him, heart fluttering as he gave her a warm smile.

“You spoil me, Sergeant.” He said, taking the cup in his hand. God, his hands. Absolutely covered in grease, every nook and cranny stained with his accomplishments. She wanted him to wrap them around hers, she wanted to feel their warmth, wanted to stain her hands with his own. She cleared her throat, looking back up to him.

“Figured you deserve a little pick me up. You’ve been working on it all day,” she said, earning another smile from him.

“It’s nothing, love. I’m almost done, just got to re-tighten a couple things,” he said.

“Anything I can help you with? Maybe keep you company?”

His eyes lit up, something that would go unnoticed to anyone else. But she spent enough time gazing into his eyes to know the difference. Her heart skipped.

“Actually, yeah. Could you hold the flashlight?”

“Of course, Captain.”

He handed her the flashlight, leading her under the truck. “Shine it right there.”

He reached into the abyss, feeling for God knows what. She was pressed against him, shining the light to the best of her ability.

Her senses were flooded with him. Their arms were rubbing against one another, the sweat from both of them making them stick to each other. His smell overwhelmed her, his smoke mixing with his musk and creating the perfect aphrodisiac. It was like he was releasing pheromones, each breath she took making her underwear a little more wet.

She was staring up at him, watching the way his face twitched as he felt around. She was absolutely captivated with him, not even noticing the light dipping further and further down.

“Love, the light,” he commented, letting out a grunt when he tried and failed at his task. He would hold his breath, chest heaving when he got frustrated.

“Sorry, sir.”

He snorted. “You don’t have to call me sir right now.”

“Sorry. Force of habit,” she replied, watching his muscles stretch as he reached even deeper.

“C’mon,” he mumbled, eyebrows scrunching up and his eyes closing. “Just a bit more sweetheart… c’mon love…”

She shut her eyes, listening to the sweet nothings he whispered to the car.

“Right there… there we go, darling.”

Her mind raced, drawing out the scene she so desperately wished would play out. His labored breathing was like a beating drum in her ears. She heard him let out a soft sigh of relief as he pulled his hand away.

“That should do it,” he said, smiling at her and grabbing the flashlight. His fingers barely grazed hers, sending a spark though her body. He lowered the car, taking a drink.

“Is it good?” she asked.

“Bloody brilliant. Best one I’ve ever had,” he said, sending her a wink. “Time to start her up, see if she works.”

He picked up the keys, climbing in. He put them in, turning the ignition. It stuttered, a terrible noise coming from the engine.

“Come on baby, come on,” he mumbled, keeping the key turned. It finally spurred to life, earning a smile from Price. “Atta girl! Knew you could do it!”

He turned the car off, tossing the keys aside. “Will you get the door? Don’t wanna track grease everywhere.”

She nodded, holding the door for him as he made his way inside the cabin. He got to the sink, turning the handle with his wrist.

“Anything else I can do?”

“There’s a big bottle under my sink. It has a pump on it. Bring it to me, please.”

She brought it.

“Can you put some on my hands?”

She tried to angle the bottle, but it was awkward and she missed entirely. She wrapped her arms around him, finally able to get some of the soap in his hands.

His smell was intoxicating, something she wanted bottled. Every whiff made her heart thump. She pulled back, setting the bottle on the counter.

“This soaps got some sand in it,” he started. “Makes it gritty, gets real deep in the skin to get the grease off. My hands are gonna be stained for a couple days anyway, even though they're clean.”

“Mm,” she hummed, watching as he rubbed the soap all over his hands. She watched his fingers intertwine, coating themselves more. She let her eyes travel up his arms, taking in every muscle and groove. She trailed them down his body, desperately wanting to see what was underneath all those clothes. He was covered in sweat, but that made him more desirable.

“You sure you’re alright, Sergeant?”

Her eyes snapped back up to meet his, an embarrassed pink coating her cheeks. “Y-yeah. ‘M fine.”

“Really?” He pressed, voice smooth with pride. “Cause you’ve been starin’ at me all day.”

Her heart dropped, eyes widening at his words. He knew.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

He dried his hands on a towel, stepping closer to her. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, sweetheart.” She was leaning against the counter, watching as his arms blocked the sides of her. He was towering over her, bending himself down slightly so his face hovered above hers. “What’s got you all… worked up?”

Her heart was racing, bruising her ribcage from the inside as it bounced around.

“I’m not sure-”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he ordered, his eyes pulling her in. They were dangerous ocean waves, walls so high she would get buried in them. They whipped around like a storm was happening in his mind, blues twisting between one another. “Tell me what’s got you so hot and bothered.”

She took a deep breath, daring to look away, but finding herself unable too.

“Is it the way I talk? You want me to talk to you the way I talk to the car?” He asked, eyebrow cocked. He was dripping with dominance, his words teasing her as his eyes drifted down to her lips. “Want me to tell you when you do a good job, love?”

Her breath caught in her through, something that didn’t go unnoticed by him. He smirked, his face so close to her she could feel his breath. “I’m sure most people like to hear when they do a good job.”

He let the tip of his finger touch the waistband of her pants, his eyes softening, asking for permission. She nodded slightly, biting her lips as he let his hand travel over her underwear.

“Do most people get this wet when praised, darling?”

She moaned as he dragged his fingers over her clothed clit. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, slamming his lips onto hers. His hand left her pants, both landing on her waist as he held her. Fire coursed through her veins at his touch, his lips hungry against hers.

She tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him closer as she savored the taste. His lips were slightly salty from the sweat, but the taste of jack and coke overpowered it. His hands traveled to the back of her thighs, lifting her up and placing her on the counter, stepping to stand between her legs.

“Goddamn,” he mumbled between kisses, earning a groan from her. She licked his lips, exploring his mouth with her tongue. He wrapped his around hers, moaning at her taste. She would gladly get used to this.

His beard tickled her face as they moved in sync, drowning in each other. They pulled away, gasping for air and staring into each other. His pupils were blown wide, face shimmering with saliva.

“If you want this, tell me. I can shower and we can go out, we can do this right-”

“John, I can’t wait any longer,” she whined, hand traveling down his chest and palming him through his underwear. From what she felt, he couldn’t wait, either.

“I’m disgusting, let me shower-”

“I want you like this,” she mumbled, pressing her lips to his neck. He grunted as her hand fiddled with his belt. “Right here, right now.”

A low growl came from his lips, something primal. “What if someone walks in, love?”

“Let them, I don’t care.”

She bit his skin, bathing in the way his hands traveled around her body. She unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down and grabbing the waistband of his underwear. His cock sprung out, tip red and dripping precum. She moaned at the sight of it. He was thick, something she should’ve expected based on the rest of him.

She wrapped her hand around it, pumping it slowly and spreading the precum around. His head fell to her shoulder, pressing light kisses to her neck. She let out airy moans at the feeling of his lips.

“You smell so fucking good,” she mumbled, slowly stroking his cock.

“I smell good?” he teased, voice lined with amusement.

“Mm,” she hummed, undoing the buttons on her pants. “Make fun of me all you want, but you’re getting laid because of it.”

“S’that all?” he asked, hand traveling down her body and slipping into her underwear. She was soaked, his fingers covered in her slick.

“N-no,” she mumbled, biting her lip as his finger grazed her clit. “Your hair’s nice too.”

“Ah.”

He sank two fingers into her, beard tickling her neck as he pressed kisses to her skin. She moaned around him, lips teasing his ear. “God baby just like that,” she whined.

He curled his thick fingers, molding her pussy to fit him and drawing lewd noises from her lips. He was careful, meticulous with every move. He watched every reaction, repeating ones that gave her the most pleasure.

“Such a beautiful sight, sweetheart,” he groaned, voice rumbling through her. She gently tugged his head back, reconnecting their lips. It was a sloppy kiss, animalistic and uncoordinated as he pulled his fingers out. He scooted her closer to the edge, lining himself up and sinking his cock into her.

They moaned into each other's mouths, her walls fluttering around him and practically pulling him in deeper. She tilted her head back, letting whines of ecstasy fill the room as he slowly pumped in and out of her.

He took his thumb and pointer finger and grabbed her chin, pulling her gaze back down to meet his. He snapped his hips up, skin slapping against her ass. Her eyes widened, glossing over with every thrust.

“C-Captain, so good~” she lulled, words spilling out before she could comprehend them.

“Say that again,” he growled, pulling himself almost all the way out.

“Captain!”

He slammed back into her, letting out a low moan as her walls clenched around him.

“Pussy feels so good, pretty girl,” he praised, speeding up his pace.

“F-fuck, gonna c-cum-”

“Yeah? You gonna cum baby?”

His thrusts were an endless assault on her cunt, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He put his thumb against her clit, rubbing small circles. His eyes were a dangerous pot of desire, something she drowned in.

“Please, sir, please,” she whined, looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Cum for me, sweetheart, c’mon-”

“Captain-!” she moaned, fingers digging into his arm as she attempted to ground herself. Her orgasm shook through her body, eyes slamming shut. Her ears were filled with the sounds of her own pleasure, brain in a haze of desire as his hips continued their relentless pace. They finally stuttered, slowing to a stop as he coated her walls.

“Shit, princess, did so good, so fucking good, baby,” he mumbled, pressing gentle kisses to her cheek and neck. He slowly removed himself, a mixture of his cum and hers dripping out and splattering against the floor.

“John,” she whimpered, eyes glistening with desire. She craved more, more touch, more pleasure, more of him.

“Not satisfied?” he taunted, eyes twinkling as she shook her head. He looked her up and down, licking his lips at the sight of her cunt. He leaned down, his mouth next to her ear. “Tell you what, love. How about you go start a shower, and I’ll come join you as soon as I finish cleaning this up?”

She whined, making him chuckle in response. She slid off the counter, stumbling on wobbly legs to the bathroom. He heard the shower turn on as he wiped up their mess, cleaning the counter too. His footsteps were heavy as he walked to the bathroom.

He was greeted with hot steam and clothes littering the floor. His quickly followed.

“You ready for more, love?”

#price cod #price mw2 #captain john price #john price #captain price #captain john price x oc #captain john price x reader #captain john price fic #john price smut #john price fic #cod mw22 #cod fanfic #cod #mw2 price #cod mw2 fic

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the-shipper-center · 2 months ago

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My vent as a former anti. Now, being a proshipper from 2 years

I can still remember the first time I stumbled into fandom spaces—it was around 2018, and, back then, it felt like a completely different world. I spent all my time on Amino communities, pouring my heart and soul into my posts about my unnecessary overly complicated gacha OCs. I’d obsess over any gay ship I came across because, let’s be honest, it was a lifeline. It felt freeing, validating even, to just fangirl and enjoy the ships that made me happy, no matter how niche or strange they seemed to others. I thought I had found my space, my people.

For years, I avoided TikTok like the plague. Until curiosity got the best of me in December 2021. That’s when I finally gave in and downloaded TikTok, thinking maybe I was just being close-minded. I wish I could say it opened my eyes in a positive way, but honestly, it was more like a punch to the gut. Everything I had loved, every ship I had adored, was suddenly labeled as problematic or "gross." And if you dared to enjoy them publicly? Forget it. You’d be torn apart, dragged for things you didn’t even realize people found offensive.

I was harassed constantly, called names, made to feel like I was disgusting for simply liking the things that had brought me so much joy before. At first, I tried to defend myself, to argue that shipping was just that—fiction. But it felt like everyone was screaming at me, telling me I was wrong. I started questioning myself. Maybe I was the problem? Maybe all the things I had loved really were as bad as they said? It got to the point where I was so mentally exhausted from the constant attacks that I gave in. I stopped enjoying those ships. I became an anti, turned my back on everything I used to like, because it was easier to just follow the crowd than to keep fighting. For two long years, I lived like that—policing myself, hating on the things I once loved, just to avoid more harassment.

The amount of hate I got was insane. It was like the second I stepped out of line from what the fandom deemed acceptable, they came at me full force. I can’t even count the number of times people told me to kill myself or threw disgusting jokes my way. The rape jokes were constant, like they thought making fun of something so vile was the way to make me feel ashamed of what I liked. No one should have to deal with that. I’d get these long paragraphs telling me how I was “a disgusting freak,” how I was the reason fandom spaces were “toxic,” all because I shipped something that didn’t fit their moral purity.

But the thing is, living like that takes a toll. It's draining to constantly censor yourself, to constantly fight against your own interests because someone else told you they were wrong. By mid-2023, I was exhausted. I’d stopped even enjoying fandom. I wasn’t posting, wasn’t engaging. I was just… there. And then, almost as a joke, I found myself wandering into a proshipper server. I thought, “Why not? I’ll just see what they’re all about. It doesn’t mean anything.” But the more time I spent there, the more I started to question why I’d let other people make me feel so ashamed of what I liked. I mean, seriously—how had it come to this? Being scared to talk about fictional characters and pairings????

Before I knew it, I started to find peace in that space, like I was finally breathing again. It wasn’t immediate, but little by little, I started to let go of the guilt I had carried for so long. And, yeah, I eventually became a proshipper myself. But it wasn’t some huge revelation or sudden change. It was more like finally reclaiming something I had been forced to give up. And now, looking back on those years I spent hating myself for liking what I liked? It makes me angry. Angry at the fandom, angry at the people who made me feel like I had to pick a side, like I had to tear myself apart to fit into their mold of what was "acceptable."

I made friends. Real friends. People who weren’t there to tear me down, but to support me and share in the things that made us happy. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had people I could talk to without constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if I was going to get attacked for every little thing. These friends didn’t care if my ships were "problematic." They just wanted to enjoy fandom without the toxicity, without the constant fear of being canceled or harassed. And that was something I hadn’t realized how badly I needed.

I wasted years of my life trying to be something I’m not, all because of this toxic, moralizing part of fandom that I never wanted to be a part of in the first place. And the worst part? It wasn’t even about them; it was about me. They didn’t care. They didn’t know me. But I let them control how I felt, and that’s something I still struggle with. Even now, there’s this lingering doubt in the back of my mind, like, “What if they’re right? What if I’m the problem?” But deep down, I know that I’ve found my space again, and that’s all that really matters.

It’s just hard to accept that you let yourself be molded by people who didn’t care about you in the first place. That kind of pressure leaves scars, and I’m still working on healing.

#🪻》 vent #tw vent #cw vent #tw: vent #tw bullying #cw bullying #tw: bullying #proshippers against censorship #proshipp #proshipper safe #op is a proshipper #proship positivity #proshippers are valid #proshippers please interact #proshippers are welcome

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ghost-tings · 5 months ago

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so I'm on the final book woooo we love this honestly doing lore stuff for ocs or just scrolling on my phone while listening to the audio books is so much more easier than picking up the fucking kindle to complete my reread when im already down two of the books anyway, the character development the relationships is just so lovely to hear again

"I warned not to put a leash on me"

"I didn't" neil said "you put that leash on yourself when you told me to stay no matter what, don't be mad at me just because I was smart enough to pick up the other end of it"

hell yeah one of the best interactions in my opinion I'm looking so forward to baltimore I can't wait for it man "I wanna see you lose control." oof that was so great the back and forth those to have is just amazing.

alright its his birthday woooo locker room mess woop woop, let's go (low-key I can do the happy 19th birthday junior in December because I'm 19 then) BLOOD SPLATTER (poor boy he doesn't deserve this) God damn that sucks him going through a slight panic is just so great like it sucks.

"HAAPPY 19TH BIRTHDAY JUNIOR!" LETS FUCKING GO HECK YEAH well oh well way to go shut down your panic all you want "carrie stunt double" only one of matts best lines in this books love you for that dude

#ghost tings #ghost tings rants #all for the game #aftg #the foxhole court #the raven king #the kings men #neil josten #andrew minyard #aftg foxes #the foxes #the fight between neil and aaron is just amazing like heck yeah fight in German #the one liners are so great as well #happy 19th birthday junior #that shit must suck but oh well #matt boyd

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dragonmarquise · 5 months ago

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BRC Headcanon Full Names

I have another BRC ask to work on tonight, thus I figure I should post this now. So then, behold! A big ol’ list of full name headcanons!

Basically a continuation of this post I made a long while back. This covers pretty much all the major characters, at least the playable ones. Plus even specific crew members from the rival crews!

Some of these have specific meanings that I used for the particular character, others were just kind of more general vibes, like “Oh this sounds cool/cute/etc.” A few of these will have extra notes on why I picked particular given/family names, but otherwise just assume it was because I liked the sound of it! Went with mostly Dutch last names for most of these characters since, well, dialog in parts of the game imply New Amsterdam is still in the Netherlands, so that made it a bit easier when I couldn't think of anything else to try, y'know? :P

Also note, not everyone here has a middle name. Not everyone irl has one anyways! Also also, some of the Dutch last names may be in the format of “Van (something)” or “De (something”, so just wanted to point that out in case anyone might get confused and think Van/De is a middle name, lol

Starting with the main cast:

Tryce = Tristian Christoffel

Bel = Annabella Pieper

DJ Cyber = Cyrus Rafaël Nassau

Felix = Bernard Manfred Van Steen (I still maintain that Felix looks like his real name would be Bernard, lol)

Vinyl = Florence Zoë Hendriks (when she was a child, she would sometimes write it as “Hendrix” and try to convince people she was related to Jimi Hendrix; it worked more often than it probably should have)

Solace = Levi Smit

The five bonus BRC members:

Rave = Vanessa Yvonne Ziegler (A headcanon, note, her dad is a black German, and her mom is from the Dominican Republic! Since she has a bunch of lines in German, and at least two in Spanish (one in particular being specifically Dominican slang), so that’s how I’m handled this :P )

Mesh = Bassam Karimi (first name means “smiling” in Arabic, last name is derived from the given name Karim/Kareem, which in turn means something along the lines of "generous, noble" or “dignity”; my research into this yielded differing results, but this seems to be more or less the overall idea. Honestly think it both sounds nice and really suits him!)

Shine = Sol Bakker (“Sol” just means “sun” in Spanish and Portugese, basically the idea is she derived her street name from that!)

Rise = Josephine Katherina Thomas (She hates being called any sort of nickname for her first name. It’s either Rise or Josephine, that’s it)

Coil = Oscar Meijer (Fun fact, the English equivalent of Meijer is Meyer/Mayer. I genuinely did not intentionally make Coil’s real name to be a roundabout reference to the lunch meat, but now that I realize it, I’m definitely keeping it this way, loool)

Some others:

Rietveld = We know here full name is Irene Rietveld, but a bonus idea: the rest of BRC point out it’s a bit awkward for her to go by her real name as her street/writer name, so she eventually settles on Rivet as an alias! :D

Escher = Matthias Conrad Escher (Originally just Matthias, but then decided to make a reference to the actual M. C. Escher, “Yeah, my parents knew what they were doing.”; thanks to @slappels for the suggestion way back when!!)

My Devil Theory OCs! The season in parentheses is what in-game palette they correspond with.

Sai (spring) = Tomás Lucas Ortiz

Nunchaku (summer) = Roxanne Beverly Sullivan

Daishō (autumn) = Hiro Francisco Morikawa (first name using the character for “prosperous” (浩); last name using the characters for “forest” (森) and “river” (川). Not that he ever gets a chance to write them in Japanese characters anyways :P )

Bō (winter) = Gavril Jansen

Now for DOT EXE! A repeat from the full DOT EXE headcanons I made a while back, but still including it here for convenience.

Cueball = Ernesto Alberto Visser (Dutch father and Italian-American mother; “Her side of the family were like, the conservative Italian-American types. The kind that makes an annoyingly big deal about celebrating Columbus Day.”; his first and middle name come from two different great grandfathers on his mom’s side)

Eight Ball = Frederik Visser (older half-brother to Cueball, they share the same dad)

Cinco (five ball) = César Hugo Raúl Garcia-Flores (last name got hyphenated when he moved to New Amsterdam while getting his papers in order and stuff; not sure if I ever clarified it in the original post, but in most (probably all?) Spanish-speaking countries, people have two last names, one from their father and the other from their mother. When moving to a country that doesn’t allow for two last names, some people end up forced to pick one or the other. Cinco went with just hyphenating it to be able to effectively keep both.)

Neun (nine ball) = Sebastián Montero Sebastian Jäger

Twoson (two ball) = Beau Driessen

Fourside (four ball) = Robin Zaal

Jūrō (ten ball) = Maximilien Théodore Perrault

Quatorze (fourteen ball) = Marie-Madeleine Lucille Perrault

And heck, the rest of the New Amsterdam crews too while I’m at it. Same as with DT and DE, the season in parentheses is the corresponding in-game palette for the playable rival character.

The Franks:

Flesh Prince = Ruben Vos (last name meaning fox, and apparently was/is a nickname for a clever person… or a person with red hair, lol)

Bill (spring) = Caspar Westenberg

Charles (summer) = Thomas Vogels

Michael (autumn) = Abraham Joël Admiraal

Larry (winter) = Lennard Van Herten

(For their street names besides the Prince, they’re named after famous basketball players, specifically from this list; Charles, Michael, and Larry are probably obvious, with Bill there’s at least two different Bills on that list lol)

Eclipse: (Street names come from constellations, I tried to go with more (relatively?) obscure ones for the names)

Vela (spring) = Sara Al-Ghazzawi

Aquila (summer) = Melissa Agnes Fortuin

Lyra (autumn) = Hannah De Klerk

Cassiopeia (winter) = Xandra Gemma Daalmans (given name is actually Alexandra, but she goes mostly by Xandra for her business)

And finally the rest of FUTURISM: (see my recent short headcanon post about them!)

Nyx (spring) = Laura Kappel

Jazz (summer) = Vincent Linden

Veronica (autumn) = Paula Prinsen (Paula is the feminine form of Paul, which in turn has roots in the Latin word Paulus which can mean humble. This is an intentionally ironic name choice for this character, lmao. Also Prinsen means “son of the Prince”, so this one is more in line with her haughty attitude)

Quantum (winter) = Esther Katja Hoedemaker (She goes by Kat as a nickname)

This next one only applies to my fanfic AU of “What if we take the postgame at face value and Red somehow became a separate person from both Felix and Faux”, but anyways:

Red = Russell Miles Van Steen (Picked the first and middle names himself, note that Russell just means “red” lol. He took on Felix’s last name since they see each other as brothers after a certain point. And it’s not like Red could come up with a better last name anyways. His middle name when paired with Felix’s middle name is a Miles Edgeworth reference :P )

#bomb rush cyberfunk #brc headcanons #bomb rush cybderfunk headcanons #almost all of the characters are here besides Faux the Oldheads Benni and Berlage #I'm not going to tag all of them because there is A LOT lmao #Wren's BRC Headcanons

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angstyaches · 5 months ago

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Augusnippets Day 2

Prompt: Platonic hair care, requested by @writing-whump

OCs: Shayne and Elliott

Word Count: 498

CW: crying, touch starvation, trauma recovery.

___

“Alright.” Elliott materialised with a smug smile on his face and a glossy hairbrush in his hand. He gestured towards Shayne’s bedroom desk. “Sit.”

“I told you, no,” Shayne murmured.

“You said it’s been driving you insane, and to be honest, looking at it has been driving me insane.”

“I-I’m just going to cut most of it off anyway."

Elliott rolled his head back and half-groaned, half-chuckled. “Kid, humour me for a couple of minutes, alright?”

Shayne tried to swallow the panic. He sank into his desk chair, closing his hands around the armrests. He stared straight ahead at the blank white wall. Entrapped. Obedient.

Behind him, Elliott cleared his throat. “Are you good?”

“I’m fine.”

“May I?”

Shayne nodded stiffly. A unexpectedly tentative pair of hands drew his hair back, draping it over the back of the chair.

“When it’s this long, you have to start at the ends,” Elliott said, “otherwise you get bigger, tighter knots –”

As soon as the brush touched Shayne's hair, it jammed.

“Ow,” Shayne hissed at the sudden jolt rather than the pain itself.

Elliott snorted. “Like that.”

The next sweep of the brush also caught, wrenching at Shayne’s scalp. He winced, shifting his weight in the chair. “Fuck, El.”

“Oh, excuse me. Were you expecting this to feel like a hug from a kitten?”

Shayne felt a knot in his stomach, bigger than any of the knots in his hair. The knots he’d failed to keep under control, resulting in Elliott taking notice and going out of his way.

“No. Sorry.”

“Hey. Relax, brother.” Elliott continued working the ends of Shayne’s hair, bracing it from higher up so that it didn’t pull. “It’s going to be alright.”

The tone was condescending; the words still made Shayne squirm. He didn’t need to be reassured, even mockingly. But as the knots softened and his anxiety simmered down, he relinquished his grip on the armrests. His hands trembled as they rested on his thighs. The tugging on his scalp seemed to run deeper every time, pulling loose the things that he had stacked so carefully in his mind.

“Before you go chopping it all off,” Elliott said, “why don’t you go see mine and Nancy’s guy? He’s a genius. He’ll give it a better shape, make it easier to manage, and...”

Shayne's breath hitched, and in the slipstream of that humiliation, he lifted his hands to his face to wipe away tears.

Elliott’s brushing slowed, but only for a couple of beats before he was back at it, picking up the ends of Shayne’s hair. “I had a feeling you weren’t doing good.”

Shayne swallowed and shook his head, brushing off his self-indulgent thoughts. It was self-indulgent enough, just sitting here, feeling sorry for himself, letting Elliott brush his wet, unkempt hair. “Sorry, El. I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.” Shayne closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of cautious fingers dragging their way through his hair. He suppressed a shudder and exhaled. “I’m good.”

___

@augusnippets

#Augusnippets #Augusnippets Day 2 #crying #touch starvation #touch starved #vampire OC #demon eater OC #OC whump #OC sickfic #StW Shayne #StW Elliott #Swallow the World

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dindjarindiaries · 1 year ago

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The Rising Phoenix - Chapter One

series masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

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pairing ➵ din djarin x fem!oc rating ➵ mature (18+) tags ➵ enemies to lovers, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut, strong language, sexual references word count ➵ 3.847k chapter summary ➵ This year's team of Mandalorian recruits embark on their journey to Kyrbej, their home for the next brutal cycle.

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CHAPTER ONE

I tie off my right boot and stand up, facing the reflection of myself in the long piece of reflective transparisteel. The leather of my training gear groans at the movements. I bite my cheek. That will take some getting used to.

Damn. I look disproportionate as hell with my beskar helmet and absolutely no other armor joining it. That will be another thing I’ll have to get used to.

Not that there will be any mirrors for me to see myself at Kyrbej. The training grounds on the other side of Concordia’s surface are known for their practicality, not any type of luxury. Certainly not anything more than what we already have in our stronghold. If I want to look at myself, I’ll have to bring my own shard of reflective transparisteel.

Given Linessa’s warnings about how the next cycle will go, though, I’m fairly sure I won’t want to look at myself, anyway.

I’m only able to heave one more breath before there’s a rapid knocking at my door. “Rhi! Hurry! You’re barely giving me any time to say goodbye!”

I swallow the sudden knot my twin sister’s words tie in my throat and pick up my rucksack. It’s heavy as hell, but given the fact I’ll be living out of it, I’m surprised it’s not even heavier. I slide my door open and Rowyn’s standing there, her emerald helmet adorned with gold embellishments flashing in my gaze as she lunges forward to wrap her arms tight around me.

The rucksack falls to the floor as I hug her back. For the first time since we were younglings, our paths are diverging. It’s the Way, as Mom has reminded me so many times before, as the Ancestors have called us each to our own unique paths.

“I’ll see you soon.” I say the words to Rowyn with confidence, even if there’s a wide-open chasm of uncertainty in my chest. I’ve been preparing for this for years, ever since I slid this beskar over my head. My hand cups the back of her helmet. “You better have a full suit ready for me when I get back.”

Rowyn manages a short laugh at that. “First of all, I’m not in charge of giving you armor.” She pulls away and holds my own emerald helmet between her hands, though I can see the white accents I added to each curve of the beskar reflected in her visor. “Second of all, I’m gonna need more than a cycle to learn how to make a full fucking suit.”

I laugh with her. Our helmets touch, silence sitting between us, before I step away and hold her hands in mine. “Tell the Armorer to go easy on you." I squeeze her hands. “I know how easily you blister.”

“I could say the very same about you.” Rowyn’s thumb runs over my palm. “But I think I’ll have it easier over here than you will over there.”

I scoff. “Have you met the Armorer?”

Rowyn can’t laugh this time. I don’t need to see her face to identify her concern. After years without seeing a single person’s face, it’s easy to spot emotions in other ways, especially the people I know best. “Just be careful, Rhi.”

“I will.” I give her hands another squeeze. “You’ve seen how well I can kick ass.”

Rowyn’s helmet tilts, her substitution for a smile. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.”

I chuckle and sigh, going in for one last hug. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much, Row.”

“I’ll miss you too, Rhi.”

“Rhiane,” Mom’s voice calls for me further down the corridor. “It’s time to get going.”

Rowyn and I step away from each other at the same time. I pick up my rucksack and nod at her, taking in the last of my twin sister before I turn and start to walk towards Mom. Rowyn, however, adds one more thing over my shoulder. “And Rhiane!”

I whip my helmet around. Rowyn jogs to get closer to me, lowering her modulated voice so only I can hear.

“Kick Din Djarin’s ass for me.”

I huff at that, as much as the sound of his name alone sets my chest aflame with deeply planted bitterness. “Easy.”

“Rhiane.” Mom’s voice is more stern now. I wince and turn to face her again, her battle-worn emerald suit of armor serving as a warning rather than an inspiration right now. “Let’s go.”

I look at my boots as I follow her out of the part of the stronghold I’ve called home for twenty-two cycles, now. Hopefully, Dad’s waiting outside, or else I won’t have a chance to say goodbye. There’s no way Mom’s going to let me back inside, and I can’t blame her. The last thing I’d want to do is either hold up the whole group of this cycle’s recruits or have to run like hell to catch up to them.

The maze of the stronghold soon gives way to Concordia’s swirling atmosphere, and as I look up, I can see the distant image of Mandalore. The familiar ache of curiosity and nostalgia I have no need for hits at the sight of our people’s homeworld. I wonder if earning my place as a warrior will ever grant me permission to visit our history there. Even Mom and Dad seem to miss it after running a few missions there when I was little.

Speaking of Dad, he stands with the other parents of my fellow recruits, who will see us off as we head to Kyrbej. There are less parents here than there are recruits, even if there aren’t that many of us. I push the unnecessary observation away and focus on the last goodbyes I have to make.

“You’re late, Rhiane,” Dad greets me, his gloved hand tapping the side of his helmet—and no doubt powering down the chrono within his visor.

Mom offers him the answer. “Rowyn.”

Dad nods in understanding. He approaches me and sets a strong hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been waiting a long time for this day, verd’ika.” I smile to myself at the nickname. I’ve had it ever since I tried to force Rowyn into wrestling matches when we were kids. “I know you’ll make us proud.”

“Thank you.” I nod, maintaining my composure and respect in light of the fellow Mandalorians who surround us.

“The Fighting Corps isn’t ready for you.” Mom speaks up next. She presses her hand against the back of my emerald helmet to make it meet her own. “But you are damn sure ready for it.”

My eyes start to sting, my nose prickling and my throat tied up in a spikey knot. Shit. I told myself I wouldn’t get emotional, even if my beskar could hide it—but I hadn’t expected my parents to show me anything more than tough-love in front of others. “Thank you.” I force the words through my tightened throat.

“The cycle will be over before you know it.” Dad steps towards me when Mom gives him room to, his helmet also meeting my own. “You’ll be a full-fledged warrior next time we see you.”

“Just a full-fledged recruit, Dad.” I manage to maintain my usual smartass tone even amidst my emotional struggle. Dad huffs and steps away. I look between my parents and lower my helmet in love and respect. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.” Their comforting voices are a chorus that wrap around me like a sweet embrace as I force myself to turn my back on them. I join the group of recruits and get in formation, falling into the empty space in the two-by-two line that’s been saved for me.

“It’s about time your ass turned up.” The recruit at my side’s tone is full of nothing but amusement as she tilts her purple helmet at me. “I was starting to think you were having second thoughts.”

I shoved my shoulder against hers. “Fuck off, Sahra.” I tilt my helmet back at her. “As if I’d be the one between us to stay behind.”

I could almost feel the hot waves of Sahra’s embarrassment warming my black leathers. “That’s different. Since Thiio’s due for his training next year—.”

“—You’ll be spending two cycles apart, not just one. I know.” I find her hand and give it a squeeze. “But this will be good for you two. You’ve been inseparable ever since they moved his family’s wing closer to yours.”

“And?” Sahra’s curt response is almost a challenge.

“Selfishly, it gives me more alone time with you.” I let her hand go and shrug. “Plus, who knows. Maybe training will bring out something new in someone that you’ll like.” I gesture with my helmet to the path we’re about to take. “There’s gonna be a lot of extra adrenaline we have to take care of out there.”

“Fair point.” Sahra becomes more amused again as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And who exactly do you think you’ll be choosing for that task?”

I shrug again. “I’ll have to wait and see.” I spot a familiar shine diagonally across from my position, about four rows of recruits ahead. “I do know who I won’t be choosing, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” My visor snaps over to Sahra. She dramatically fires my own words back at me. “Maybe training will bring out something new in someone that you’ll like.”

“Fuck no.” I find the silver helmet again, the only one in this entire group that hasn’t been painted, and tighten my jaw. “That doesn’t apply to him.”

“Really, Rhiane?” Sahra is using the tone of voice that makes it hard to tell if she’s being serious or not. “I always thought you two would be a power—.”

I shove my elbow hard enough into her ribs to make her lose her breath for a moment.

“Damn, fine then. Comm received.” Sahra rubs her hand over her ribs. “No more jokes about Djarin.”

The sound of his name causes his silver helmet to turn over his shoulder. I don’t let my visor stray from his, instead challenging him to look away first. My hands curl into fists at my sides and I wish I could swing them in his direction. I’ve already sparred with him enough times to know, though, that I won’t win—but neither will he.

The question now, then, is who’s going to win this staring contest of ours.

“Recruits!” A booming voice announces from the front of the group.

Another draw it is. We look away from each other at the same time, focusing our attention to the black-armored Mandalorian ahead of us. Captain Hosnan has been running the Fighting Corps’ training for cycles, even before more than half our ranks abandoned the Way during the Clone Wars.

“You’ve been training for cycles to see this moment. You’re now mere minutes away from embarking on this journey, a Mandalorian tradition that’s been in place for thousands of years.”

My stomach twists with nerves I’m not used to having. The historical weight of this training isn’t lost on me, especially when I remember who my ancestors are. Settling for anything less than the goal I’ve made for myself in my mind is unacceptable.

“You’ve sworn the Creed. You’ve earned your most valuable piece of armor: your helmets.”

Each one of our helmets is unique in some way, all adorned with special colors and embellishments—except for Din’s. For some reason, it makes my blood boil even more.

“Now, you will go on to earn each piece of your full suit of armor with each challenge you undertake. It won’t be easy, but the generations before you have proven it can be done. I’m the first captain to have no deaths reported at Kyrbej in three-hundred years, so don’t be my first.”

I swallow hard. No pressure.

“But don’t be mistaken. This isn’t because I’m softer than the other captains.” Captain Hosnan crosses his arms over his cuirass. “It’s because I’m tougher, and that toughness yields results. So, if any one of you feels you’re not up for the challenge, do us all a favor and walk away now while you can. As for the rest of you…”

Captain Hosnan lowers his arms to lift his fist to the center of his cuirass, right over the kar’ta.

“Welcome to the Fighting Corps.” He lowers his helmet. “This is the Way.”

We all mirror his gesture, crossing our right arms over our chests and lowering our helmets. “This is the Way.”

The family members beside us are the last to say the phrase. “This is the Way.”

Captain Hosnan turns and begins to walk forward, and our group of recruits follows in obedient formation. I pull the straps of my rucksack higher on my shoulders and give Sahra a look. “Are you ready, Private Auren?”

Sahra tilts her helmet at me. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Private Voss.”

▼▲▼

As it turns out, the hardest part of our cycle at Kyrbej is fucking walking there.

After endless hours of non-stop travel across this desolate moon we call home, Captain Hosnan has finally allowed us to make camp. We don’t have the supplies to pitch tents, so we settle for various alcoves in the nearby rock structures that have defined Concordia ever since it was settled—or, at least, mined.

My feet are throbbing and my legs nearly give out when I sit down beside Sahra at our makeshift fire, but at least this walk is breaking in my boots. I chew on the ration pack Rowyn helped me acquire from the kitchen of our wing, sliding the material in the gap between the lip of my helmet and my skin. There’s no chance I’m gonna be able to hunt something out here.

The recruits are scattered throughout the alcove in their small friend groups, the ones made long before Kyrbej was even on the horizon. I’m well aware these groups will be drastically different by the time we all complete our training, and not just because of Linessa’s warning. It’s common sense. The shit we’re about to go through this cycle changes people from the inside-out.

“I’ll be right back,” Sahra speaks up into our comfortable silence. She stands and brushes the dirt of the alcove off her leathers. “I’ll let you know if I find a decent corner of privacy for relieving ourselves.”

I snort with amusement and watch her as she strides away. I’m not on my own for long, though, as another person soon comes to take her place. I don’t bother fighting the snarl underneath my helmet or the roll of my eyes behind my visor.

“Voss.” Din’s modulated tone is curt as he stands over me.

“Djarin.” I all but bite his name out.

His arms cross over his chest. His broad chest. Shit, does that tiny detail really matter? “You seem tired.”

I scoff. “What a fucking compliment.” I sit up more and tilt my helmet. “Are you not exhausted from walking for at least six hours straight?” When he starts to reply, I hold up my hand. “Wait, let me guess. You’ve somehow been training for this specific part along with everything else.”

Din tilts his helmet back at me. “You’re catching on.”

Frustration pumps through my veins like hot, molten lava. “Well, what the hell do you want? Or did you just come over here to be an asshole?”

Din doesn’t waver at my hurled insults. “You tell me. Your friend was the one who said my name earlier.”

I narrow my eyes at him and hope he can somehow see their wrath behind my visor, even if it breaks the Creed. “Can’t live with the fact your name’s said in conversations you’re not a part of, Djarin?” I let out an amused huff. “Because I hate to tell you, people are allowed to say your name when you’re not around.”

“I would’ve been content to leave you to it.” Din shifts his weight to one hip. “But you were looking at me, so… naturally, I assumed you had something to say.”

“Nope.” I’m suddenly grateful for the Creed again that keeps my warm, embarrassed face from Din’s line of vision. Ancestors, forgive me. “Consider it a mistake.”

Din’s helmet straightens. “Let me give you some advice.” He gestures with his helmet to the view of Concordia outside the alcove. “There’s no room for mistakes at Kyrbej. Even one could move you down the ranks, and fast. My advice, then?” He drops his arms back to his sides, conveying his severity. “Don’t let it happen again.”

My anger becomes so volatile that I’m relieved I don’t have a metal suit of armor covering me. It would just melt into my skin. “So now you’re giving me orders?” I shake my helmet. “Hell no. And you say that as if I don’t already know.” My anger unties a cruel knot within my throat and unleashes its full wrath. “Unlike you, I have a fucking legacy to maintain.”

Din stiffens, but it only lasts for a moment. His hands curl into fists at his sides, but it’s not an unusual action for him. “Good.” He nods at me, having the audacity to remain civil after my harsh bite—and making me feel like the asshole here. “I expect it won’t happen again, then.”

He turns his back before he can see my middle finger extended up at him. I curse under my breath and wrap my arms around myself for more warmth, glancing at the unfinished ration pack on my lap. I’ve lost my appetite, and I could use the rest for breakfast, anyway.

No. I am not letting this man make me eat myself alive because he was the one who approached me in the first place. He’s trying to get to me mentally, since he can’t beat me physically. I won’t let him win.

Sahra returns and sits even closer to my side than she had before. “Damn, what did I miss?” Her visor gives me a once-over. “You’re tenser than a lariat.” She points at my unfinished ration. “And I expected that to be crumbs by now.”

“What do you think happened?” My visor’s glaring in Din’s direction, even though he’s become lost within the fray of recruits. I find his silver helmet amidst a group of other foundling recruits. He’s the biggest of them all.

“You mean, who do I think happened?” Sahra huffs. “It’s not really a question.”

“He was an asshole for coming over here, and then he made me be an asshole back.”

Sahra tilts her helmet at me. “He ‘made’ you?”

I finally turn to face her. “He wanted to know why you said his name earlier, before we left.”

I hate the way I can practically see Sahra’s purple helmet grow brighter, as if the fire suddenly got more powerful. “Yeah? And what did he have to say about my brilliant joke?”

“Your brilliantly fucking stupid joke? Yeah, he doesn’t know about it.” I huff in indignation. “He just threatened me not to make the ‘mistake’ of using his name without telling him about it again.”

Sahra’s shoulders tense at that. “What the hell?”

“Exactly.” I rest even further against the smooth slab of stone supporting me.

“So, how exactly were you an asshole in this context?”

I cringe, squeezing my eyes tight behind my visor in embarrassment. “Don’t judge me.” The only person who knows the Creed better than me is Din himself. The man’s a stickler for the rules and customs of our people. The foundlings are the future.

“Let me guess.” Sahra’s fingers tap over her thigh in unnecessary concentration. I already know she’s going to get it right on the first try. “You made a jab about him being a foundling?”

I palm my helmet with one of my hands. “Why am I such an ass about that sometimes, Sahra?” I shake my head.

“It’s the only leverage you have on him.” Sahra shrugs and pokes at the fire to keep it burning. “He’s not the most open about his life before his rescue, and he’s definitely not the type to tell anyone how he feels about it—or anything else.”

I stare at the fire. “That doesn’t make it right. He just…” I clench my hands into tight fists, “shit, he makes me so damn angry sometimes.”

“It may not be right, but it’s understandable.” Sahra nods at me. “You were predicted to be the top of our cycle from a young fucking age. Then Djarin just comes in, and… well, he’s the only one who can threaten that.”

I exhale deeply and close my eyes, feeling the weight of this day and situation upon me. “I don’t want to think about that day anymore.”

Sahra’s hand gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I understand.” I hear her shuffling around as she leans back next to me. “Get some rest. I have a feeling Hosnan’s gonna have us up and at ‘em as early as possible.”

Sahra’s right. It feels like I’ve been asleep for all of five minutes when the sound of beskar-on-beskar rings throughout the alcove.

The rest of the recruits and I jolt awake, looking to see Captain Hosnan with his gauntlets crossed over each other. “Morning, recruits! You have five minutes to fully put out your fires, pack your rucksacks, and relieve yourselves before we continue on!”

I groan and let my helmet hit the stone behind me for a moment. We’re not even at Kyrbej yet, and I already understand why I’ve trained like hell for this cycle.

But we will be getting to Kyrbej today, and that excitement alone is what gets me moving faster than anything else.

Once we’re all back on our feet and in our two-by-two formation, Captain Hosnan continues on our path to Kyrbej. Sahra’s quick to notice the sudden hop in my step. “What’s got you so excited to walk another six hours straight?”

I shoot her an incredulous look. “Kyrbej.”

“Right.” Sahra’s visor rises to the swirling sky for a moment. “I almost forgot the destination.”

“I’ve only been training my whole life for it.” I smile to myself, experience my first true wave of joy since leaving the stronghold. “Plus, I’ll finally get to see Linessa.”

Sahra’s helmet snaps back towards me. “Oh, shit, that’s right. She was team leader last year.”

“Damn right she was.” I tilt my helmet towards her. “She’s a Vizsla, after all.”

Sahra snorts. “If Paz was my older brother, I’d work my ass off to be team leader, too.” She gives me a knowing look. “But I’m not even gonna try when I know who it’s going to.”

I bite my cheek. “You don’t know that.”

“By the Ancestors, Rhiane, don’t lose your confidence already.” Sahra nudges my arm. “Your jab at Djarin may have been brutal, but it’s true. Even if he could possibly manage to beat you out in skill, when was the last time they made someone who’s not tied to a clan or a house a fucking team leader?”

My jaw remains wired shut. She’s right. The revelation floods relief through me. “Fair point. I’ll give you that.”

I don’t have another option; I have to believe her. Failing to become team leader isn’t an option. I won’t be able to face Dad, Mom, or even Rowyn if I don’t earn the title.

The hours go by surprisingly quickly, either because of the haziness of my exhaustion or because of the verbal games Sahra and I play to keep ourselves entertained. That haze, however, is quickly replaced by shocking clarity as the adrenaline kicks in at the sight on the horizon.

The unmistakable pillars of Kyrbej frame a tight group of Mandalorian warriors, those who will be serving as our officers, leaders, and teachers for the next cycle. I’m already searching for Linessa’s telltale blue helmet, but as much as I love the woman who’s like another sister to me, she’s not the only reason why my heart is racing with excitement.

After cycles and cycles of waiting, I’m finally at Kyrbej. I’m finally facing my long-awaited destiny. Not even my doubts about Djarin or team leader can quell my pure anticipation.

I don’t have to be Force-sensitive to know that I—and Kyrbej itself—won’t ever be the same after this moment.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

series masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

#i am SO excited for this one!!!#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x original female character #din djarin x female reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the rising phoenix #dindjarindiaries

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atinylittlepain · 2 years ago

Text

Firehouse Harrington - New Beginnings - Chapter 1

Fireman!Steve x f!reader/f!oc

steve harrington masterlist

warnings | 18+ angst, descriptions of PTSD-like symptoms, smut

a/n | thank you all so much for your patience as i plotted this next period for steve and his girl. i've had a few folks ask if i'd do a taglist for this series, so if enough people express interest i will absolutely start one! thank you as always for reading <3

.......................

“Hey, golden girl! Wait up!” Shit. She has nearly made it out of the lab building when Thomas catches her, his voice resounding down the hall. She had been doing a decent job of avoiding him ever since their failed date, a month’s worth of dipping into empty classrooms and staying late to keep from seeing him. But today, she has finally slipped up, turning around and nervously fidgeting with the strap of her bag as he walks toward her.

“You’re a hard girl to find. I’ve been looking for you, but you seemed to disappear on me.” She hums, trying to seem casual.

“Oh? I’ve just been really busy. Wrapping up senior year and all.” His dimple pops as he tilts his head at her.

“Busy, huh? Where are you headed right now? Can I walk with you?” Her stomach drops at his question.

“Um, I was actually just leaving for the day. I’m meeting some–”

“Let me walk you out. I’ve been wanting to talk to you again.” She huffs, realizing it’s going to be easier to give in than to keep making excuses for him to somehow ignore. She nods with a sigh, and he falls into step alongside her as they make their way toward the main exit.

“I heard you’ve already started working with Professor Graham. That’s awesome. How’s your thesis work going?”

“Good, yeah. It’s all still preliminary stuff, but I’ve been–” For the second time, he cuts her off, and she has to fight against rolling her eyes.

“You’ll have to tell me more some time soon. This might be presumptuous, but are you doing anything tonight? It is Valentine’s Day after all.” Oh no, not presumptuous at all. She shoulders out of the front door, Thomas close on her heels before she finally turns around to look at him in the fading afternoon light.

“I have plans actually.” That doesn’t seem to deter him judging from the grin he’s still shooting her way.

“What? Movie night with your girlfriends?” She goes to answer him, but is promptly cut off by the low rumbling of an engine coming closer, both of their heads turning to see a motorcyclist pulling up to the curb. As the person on the motorcycle removes their helmet, it’s her turn to grin as Thomas’ face falls, his eyes darting between her and the bike.

“Bye, Thomas. Happy Valentine’s Day.” With that, she all but skips away from him and towards the low-thrumming bike.

“Hey, pretty. He giving you trouble?” She presses a few quick kisses to his lips, effectively drawing his attention away from Thomas as she brushes her thumb along his cheek.

“Hi, Stevie. No trouble, just annoying.” Steve huffs, eyes darting over her shoulder one more time to look at Thomas, but she’s quick to tug his chin back toward her.

“Steve, it’s fine. He’s just a total asshat.” He snorts at that, shaking his head as he looks at her through his lashes.

“Always with that mouth, huh? Alright, baby, let’s go before doctor asshat burns a hole through me with his eyes.” She laughs, glancing over her shoulder. Sure enough, Thomas is still watching them with a very furrowed look on his face, and it just makes her laugh harder as she turns back around to her man. She brushes his flopped-over waves out of his eyes as he grins at her.

“Helmet?” He nods, reaching back to pull out another helmet from the saddlebag and hand it to her. It was the only way she agreed to ever get on the thing with him, a project he had taken up after reading some book about zen and motorcycles that his therapist had recommended. So long as he always wore his helmet – the helmet that she specifically picked out for him because it was certified by the Brain Injury Association of America – she was just happy to see him so excited about something.

She clicks her own helmet on before stumbling to throw her leg over the humming bike, hands quick to find purchase around Steve’s waist. She’d never admit it to him, but it’s always a bit thrilling, getting on the back of Steve Harrington’s motorcycle.

…

“Oh my god.”

“Do you like it?”

“This is like– the best thing I’ve ever eaten.” Steve has to hide his proud smile at her words behind a bite of pasta. He had wanted to do something really nice for his girl for Valentine’s, and had even begrudgingly called his mom to get the recipe for her famous spaghetti. Gina Harrington had been surprised to hear from her son, but had also chewed him out pretty quickly.

“Is this for a girl, Steven?” He was glad she couldn’t pick up on the way he was blushing over a landline.

“Well, she must be special if she’s got you cooking for her. When am I gonna meet this girl, huh? You should visit soon. I miss my baby boy.”

He had barely made it out of the phone call alive, his mother somehow twisting a visit out of him for her birthday in March, with the hesitant promise that he’d bring his girl along to meet “la familia.” On his mother’s side, Steve came from pure Italian roots, and an extended family big enough to start its own circus. But, watching his girl smile around another bite of pasta was making the prospective trip home seem worth it.

As she finishes chewing, she quirks her eyebrow, pointing her fork at him.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Harrington.” He laughs, shaking his head, because truthfully, Steve’s never done anything like this for anyone. The closest he had come to something like this was heating up Campbell's chicken and stars for Robin when she had the stomach flu last year. And Thanksgiving, but he had really only helped with that. This one was all him, with a little assist from mama Harrington.

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just glad you like it, baby.” With that, she leans across the table and presses a smacking kiss to his lips, leaving him with what feels like a really dopey grin as she sits back in her chair.

“I love it. Thank you, Stevie.” During his “King Steve” days, Valentine’s had been an easy ticket to getting laid, nothing more. A well-timed box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers and his night was made. He didn’t care for the holiday then, and he doesn’t really care for it now. But he cares for her, and because of that, for the first time ever, Steve tried really hard this Valentine’s Day.

They both sit back with content sighs, warmed by the good food and the smiles they pass back and forth.

“Did I tell you I saw Eddie on campus the other day?” He groans at that. Eddie Munson is the last thing he wants on his mind right now. She giggles.

“I saw him walking across the quad. He didn’t seem to recognize me at first when I called out his name, but it clicked pretty fast I think. He asked me if I’ve been keeping you in line.” Steve lets out a huff, raising his eyebrows at her.

“And? What’d you tell him?”

“Told him you’ve been keeping yourself in line these days, that you’ve been working really hard. And I may have invited him over for dinner this weekend.” Steve groans, opening his mouth to protest, but she’s having none of it.

“Steve, he’s your friend. And he just moved to a new city and started college for the first time. He could use all the help he can get, alright? Poor guy was looking a little lost.” She’s got that smug look on her face like she knows he isn’t going to say no to her.

The dynamic in their relationship has certainly shifted, and while she has insisted this is a fresh start for them, Steve fears he may never make it up to her, for what he did and how he treated her. He’s trying “painfully hard,” words his therapist had used. Diligently doing his homework assignments, keeping all of his appointments with Dr. Staub, finding odds and ends projects to keep his mind busy, Steve has been walking the walk without a doubt. But he’s finding that the further along in therapy he gets, the harder it becomes, long dormant memories getting upturned that sting just as fresh as they did when they were made.

Staub assures him it’s all a part of the process. That it will get worse before it gets better. But there are some things he can’t even talk about with Staub. What’s the therapy protocol for processing an interdimensional war that almost destroyed the world as they know it? The memories come in brilliant, painful flashes that leave him tired and muted. When she finds him like that, he chalks it up to a hard shift at the station or a touchy therapy session. She’s always soft with him during those times, and it in turn has softened him even more. He’s still rough around the edges, and snaps at her more often than he’d like to, but it’s clear to even him how much he’s changed, and he is at least proud of that. He just hopes it’s enough to make her stay.

…

“Just leave those, baby. Can get ‘em in the morning.” Steve tugs on her wrist, pulling her away from the sink full of dishes to guide them over to the couch. They settle down into each other easily, her head resting on his chest and his arm slung over her. It’s a position they have both gotten comfortable in, many nights ending in some sort of similar tangle. While it’s sweet, she can’t help being a little frustrated that it never turns into more.

She knows she had said she wanted to take things slow this time, but compared to how they used to be, this is practically glacial. It’s been a little over a month now, and the sweet kisses and closeness have been lovely, but she’d like the pace to pick up, even just a little bit.

“Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“I have a present for you too.” She lifts her head from his chest to see the furrowed look on his face. She can’t help the nervous laugh she lets out as she slowly stands from the couch. Steve’s grumbles of protest die in his throat when she starts to unbutton her jeans and shimmy them down her legs.

“Baby, what are you–”

“Just let me show you, Steve, please?” She can see the bob of his throat as he sits back, his eyes darting everywhere as she steps out of her jeans and quickly lifts her shirt over her head. It had been an impulse buy. She and her girlfriends had been doing some window shopping on her day off. The set had caught her eye in the display of a store she’d normally never enter, but with Valentine’s Day coming up, she decided to try something new. Something dark purple and satiny.

She swears Steve stops breathing for a moment, his eyes wide as he takes her in. It’s a bit overwhelming, the complete silence coupled with his unblinking gaze, and she starts to worry she just made a huge fool of herself, nervously wrapping her arms around her stomach.

“I-I’m sorry– this was silly– I should just–” He’s quick to cut off her mumbling, standing up and drawing her arms away, his fingers twining with hers.

“No! No, fuck– m’sorry, I just– are you trying to kill me right now?” She splutters out a laugh at his breathless question, heat rising in her cheeks. He lets go of her hands, his fingers ghosting over the tops of her breasts, the silky fabric pushing them up just slightly. When his gaze meets hers again, his eyes are blown out, dark and hazy.

“So beautiful, honey. Is this all for me?” She smiles, pressing her hands over his until his fingers are flexing into the swell of her breasts.

“It is, Steve. Do you like it?” He swallows hard as he bobs his head.

“Yes– it’s um– it’s– I like it– I like it a lot, fuck– could you– could you turn around for me? Let me see all of you?” She turns in his arms, grinning at the low curse he lets out as his fingers graze along the string waistband of her panties, before turning back around and wrapping her arms around his neck. She leans in to let her lips graze along his ear, his hands squeezing her waist as he lets out a harsh exhale.

“Happy Valentine’s, Stevie.” When he kisses her, it’s different, a little more of an edge, a little more hunger in the way he swipes his tongue along her lips and she opens up to him without hesitation. His broad palms are roaming her back, leaving light squeezes to the curve of her ass before trailing up her spine as she walks them back toward the couch. She lightly shoves him to flop back onto the couch as she kneels down between his spread legs. But as soon as she starts work at his belt buckle, Steve stops her, holding her wrists aloft between them.

“Hey, wait– you don’t have to do that, honey.” She rests her cheek on his thigh, trying to ignore the nerves that have settled back under her skin at his seeming rejection.

“I want to, Steve. Wanna make you feel good.” He sighs at that, his head hanging low as she tries to catch his downturned gaze. Now she’s starting to get worried.

“Steve?”

“I just– I don’t deserve it– don’t deserve you– looking so pretty for me and everything.” Oh. She feels her heart sink, finally realizing what’s going on. He’s been doing so well, but she knows that Steve still beats himself up for what happened, how he had treated her. To an outsider, she thinks she probably looks like an idiot for taking him back, but she knows that how he was with her before was a reflection of calcified layers of his past. Cliche as it may be, those layers are crumbling, and she’s excited to stick around to see the Steve Harrington that survived underneath them, already catching glimmering glimpses.

She slips her hands out of his hold, both her palms resting on his thighs as she sits back on her knees.

“Will you look at me, please?” He does, just barely, eyes meeting hers through his downturned lashes.

“I don’t know what exactly is going through your head, Steve. But I’m telling you that you do deserve to feel good. This is our fresh start, right?” That coaxes a small nod from him. She smiles, squeezing his thighs.

“Can I make you feel good now, baby?” He lets out a ragged sigh, sitting back into the couch as he fully looks at her.

“Whatever you want– I’m all yours, you know that.” It’s all she needs to hear, giving him one more smile as her hands slide from his thighs up to his belt. With a low murmured “hips up, Stevie,” his already hard cock bounces free from his shrugged down boxers and pants to rest against his tummy, smearing pre-cum over the bottom of his shirt. As she noses up the vein that trails the thick underside of him, he scrunches his eyes shut, hands clenching in his hair. She missed that look.

She laps at his swollen tip, enjoying the way the muscles of his thighs tense and jump under her palms, before finally taking him into the heat of her mouth. Steve has always been a stretch, in more ways than one, and as she starts to work him over that familiar ache settles in the hinge of her jaw, her one hand coming to stroke what her mouth just can’t reach.

“Oh fuck– s’really good– so good to me– fucking perfect, honey–” She missed that too, his broken praises and breathy moans encouraging her on, licking a hot stripe up his throbbing length that has him throwing his head back into the couch.

“Wait– shit, you gotta stop.” She freezes immediately, pulling back with concern washed over her face. Steve just huffs.

“I want– I wanna feel you, please.” Suddenly, the dull ache that had settled in her core thrums brighter at his words as he’s already helping her up to straddle his thighs. He pulls her into a hard kiss, confidence clearly growing in his movements as his hands squeeze at the swell of her ass, rocking her against him.

“Can I touch you, honey? Get you ready for me, huh?” His words are a strange mixture of the old and new Steve, still a twinge of his cocky certainty laced with his new sweetness. It makes her thighs clench around him. She nods around a breathy “please,” and he finally gives her that dirty grin she remembers so well.

His hand toys with the satin front of her panties, his palm dipping down to cup her heat through the fabric as she bucks into his grip. He lets out a harsh breath through his nose when he finally dips his hand underneath the fabric, fingers swiping through her folds as she mewls into his neck.

“Fuck, baby– so wet, huh? S’all for me?” She huffs out a pitchy “uh-huh” as he swipes over her clit before dipping a finger down to pump inside of her.

“Steve, more– please, baby.” He shushes her with a kiss to her sternum, adding a second finger to his steady rhythm as she grinds down onto his hand.

“Always gotta spread you open first, huh, pretty? Get your perfect little pussy ready for me.” His words have her already teetering on the edge of release, her cunt fluttering around his deep stroking fingers as she digs her nails into his shoulders.

“Will you come for me, honey? Wanna see you so bad. Please, baby.” That’s new, and evidently all it takes to snap the snared pleasure pulled taut along her spine as she comes with a stuttered gasp of his name, her hips jerking as he works her through it.

“That’s it, honey. Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this.” She sighs when he finally takes his fingers away, her eyes widening when he sucks them into his mouth with a low groan.

“Missed that taste. Missed you– shit, I need you so bad.” She whimpers at his words. It’s a tangled mess, he tugs his shirt off over his head and she slips her panties to the side as he fists himself, lining his tip up with her clenching entrance. Ragged sighs run through both their throats as she starts to sink down onto him, the sweet burn of it making her dizzy as she seats herself fully on his thighs. She swears she can feel him twitch inside her.

“Shit– nothing feels like this– s’too good– too fucking good– can you move, honey, please?” She gives her hips a weak swirl, both of them gasping as he grazes even deeper inside her. She’s all but collapsed into him, hiding her face in his neck, her arms clinging around his neck as she tries to bounce on his cock.

“Steve, please– I need– need you to–” He shushes her, pressing a kiss to her temple as his hands firm up on the curve of her ass.

“I got you, honey– gonna give my girl what she needs, huh?” His hips tilt, thrusting up inside her as he holds her steady against him. His name is a breathless chant on her lips as he finds a pace, her hips grinding down into his with each thrust.

They’ve both needed this for a while now, and it’s clear in the sloppy tempo and how close they both seem to that cliff of pleasure already. She pulls away from him to smear her lips against his in what could only barely be called a kiss with the way they’re both panting into each other.

“So fucking close, honey– wanna feel you– c’mon, I know you can– come for me, pretty.” One of his hands comes around to splay over her hip, his fingers dipping down to circle her clit and it’s enough to have her falling into pleasure for a second time, spasming hard around him. Steve is quick to follow, holding her hard against his chest, as his warmth spreads through her, a low curse fizzling out on his lips as he buries his face in her chest.

They stay like that for a while, trying to steady their heaving breath in each other’s arms. She rakes her fingers through his mussed hair and he tilts his chin up to look at her with blown-out eyes.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

As they get cleaned up, gentle touches in the shower and smiles through the warm steam, she can’t help but think about how different that had been. She knows sex isn’t all about control, but it had certainly felt like she had more of it, that Steve was the one waiting for her to call the shots. It was different, but after all, they are different.

Different is good, right?

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