#I JUST LOOKED JUST NOW AFTER 20+ HOURS OF THIS STUPID PIECE

[brainrot-yumm]

currently completely livid that this fucking art piece isn’t done yet. It’s due by noon tomorrow and I still need to color in the entire fucking background. I’ve been working on this for literally over 20 hours and there’s still a full candle uncolored. I want to die.

#Charcoal in general is really fun to use but when you spend 7+ hours on the lineart you start to really get over it #This is a traditional #FUCK #FUCK ME I HATE EVERYTHING #I WAS SUPPOSED TO USE GRAPHITE NOT CHARCOAL FUCKING GOD #I JUST LOOKED JUST NOW AFTER 20+ HOURS OF THIS STUPID PIECE #This teacher better give me extra points for charcoal cause I'm Not turning this in finished jebus christ #I still have to write 2 and a half essays due tomorrow at midnight I DON"T want to be dealing with fucking semantics right now

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ HOCKEY PROBLEMS ୧

summary: you have been having some problems in your relationship with Chris, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t loves you.

notes: this is my first time writing a fanfic, I've always wanted to create one since 2020. english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, so don't expect too much lol. but give me feedback tho, l'd love to know what you think!

warnings: sexual assault, cussing, fluff, about three thousand words I think.

୨୧

My relationship with my boyfriend Chris is not the best. Well, at least, not now.

Lately we’ve been arguing all day long over stupid things, like who gets the last slice of pizza, or who gets the last word in a discussion. And it always ends in the same way. Silent treatment, from both sides. But it's not like Chris or I enjoy it. Most nights, I hear him in the bathroom, where he spend hours in tears. It’s horrible and makes me feel like a piece of shit. Hearing him cry only adds to my own feelings of guilt.

And how do we make things up? Sex, over and over. He would fuck the attitude out of me if he had to.

Me and Chris made a pinky promise that I would never miss any of his Hockey games. And I never did, cause i know how much my presence is important to him. And especially cause we are always in good terms the days before any of his games, but not today, we just argued again about nothing, we haven't talked for the past two days.

Nick and Matt, Chris's brothers, usually text me and offer to pick me up for Chris's games, but this time, their texts never came. It’s like they knew how our relationship was going. Chris definitely told them something.

Now you see myself driving to the arena where he plays in, the game is about to start in 20 minutes, and with this traffic, I don’t know if I will be there in time.

Red sign for the past 5 minutes. I have cars in front of me, behind me and next to me. Fuck. I start getting anxious. My nerves are on edge. I bit my nails subconsciously, the habit I got from my dad. My leg starts shaking. I can’t mess up things even more, I gotta be there, I have to be there.

After what feels like an eternity stuck in traffic, the car in front of me finally starts moving. I let out a sigh of relief as I find a parking spot. After that, I enter the venue where Chris plays (Which wasn’t that big, cause he plays in a small team in our city.)

Before taking a seat I scan the crowd anxiously, searching for any familiar faces, no one, I can’t find anyone, not even his two brothers. “Fuck it” I mumble to myself and I just get in a seat with some random people next to me.

The game is about to start, the crowd is already cheering. The players are drinking water and getting ready to get in the rink. My eyes examine each one of them, looking for Chris, number three. He was with a serious face. ‘Are he’s eyes red?’ I think to myself as I narrow my eyes, my vision is bad as shit, but I can tell he’s eyes are all puffy. He has some big dark circles underneath his pretty blue eyes, he looks fucking exhausted, It was evident that he was crying just now.

The players finally begin to take to the ice, their skates gliding across the surface as they prepare for the game to begin.

On Chris's team, there are six talented players, used to winning every single game. However, this time, they were against a really good team. Chris hated that team. I hated that team. Well, not really the team, but one of the players: Cam, Cameron.

Cam is a completely fucking jerk, in college he would always try to hit on me, but I’ve never really went with his face, what would get on his nerves, especially when I started dating Chris. It went to the point where he would force me to have intimate things with him. He was the worst human alive, and I would do anything to see him dead.

FLASHBACK

I just had PE, finding myself alone in the girls locker room as I change clothes. The sound of the front door opening echoed, followed by quiet footsteps creeping up behind me, sending shivers down my spine. I try to ignore it.

As I slipped my shirt back on, I felt two hands grip the sides of my hips, and a warm breath brushed against my neck. I freeze for two seconds. I know this is not Chris. Without thinking, I instinctively push the hands away and I turn around quickly, only to come face to face with Cameron.

I glare at him, my heart racing with a mix of fear and anger. His smirk widens as he takes a step closer, invading my personal space. "What's the rush, sweetheart?" He whispers, his voice dripping with arrogance.

I take a step back feeling the wall behind me getting closer "What are you even doing here? Get the fuck away from me, Cameron" I say firmly, trying to sound like i’m not scared, but the reality is that I’m pissing my pants.

He chuckles like he’s making fun of me, his eyes glinting with malice. "Or what? You'll tell your precious boyfriend Chris?" He teases, moving closer until I can feel his breath on my face. grabbing my waist and pinning them against the wall. "Come on, babe, you know you want it as much as I do.." he affirms, leaning in to kiss me, touching his lips on mines.

“Get the fuck away!” I whisper yell as i try to punch him away but he grabs my wrists. I struggle against his hold, but his grip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin, definitely leaving red marks.

I don’t know what to do. I can’t move. I start panicking. This is my end.

Tears blur my vision as I plead "Cameron, stop!" My voice trembles with fear as he kisses me, his lips rough and demanding against mine. Each kiss is a painful reminder of my vulnerability. Each kiss feels like a violation. I feel dirty, tainted by his touch everywhere in my body. A wave of nausea churns in the pit of my stomach as I try to move him away from me.

"Stop fucking fighting, you are not getting away from me" He murmurs against my lips "You deserve this, you want this.” I try to move as he keeps pinning me "You think I don’t see the eyes you give me when I walk by? Huh slut?" He scoffs, his hot breath against my face. "You were begging for this."

“I wasn’t begging for any of this. I never gave him any ‘eyes,’ he’s fucking delusional!” I think to myself, but my words remain trapped in my throat, suffocated.

As his lips travel down to my neck, leaving a trail of unwanted kisses, I can’t do anything more than start crying and screaming, kicking my legs and arms.

I never went back to those lockers again.

END OF THE FLASHBACK

I hated him so fucking much, and Chris did even more. And now, they are about to compete against each other.

The moment Chris stepped onto the rink, I could see his eyes looking for someone known on the crowd. Desperately, I raised my hand and waved, hoping he would spot me. And he did. His face automatically softened into a gentle smile, erasing some of the tension that had been weighing on me, but he was still with his tired eyes.

The game started with an intensity that matched the tension in the air. Both teams were determined to win. Cameron eyes were burning with rage. At this point, they weren’t competing as a team, it wasn’t about the game, it was about their personal life.

As the game progressed, the rivalry between them two escalated. They began to argue on the ice, each vying for control of the puck with increasing aggression.

Chris managing to gain possession of the puck and score two goals in less than five minutes. But Cam, folded by his own anger, refused to back down. Without thinking he charged towards him at full speed. Cameron swung his stick, causing Chris to trip and fall hard onto the ice.

“What the fuck is he doing?” I say out loud as I get up from my seat to get a better view. Chris remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, clearly in pain. Every player on the ice stopped and looked around confused without knowing what to do, but not Cameron. He keeps going with the puck in direction to make a goal, with a visible smile on his lips. But then he notices how everyone really stopped and he slows down too, annoyed, not showing any regret.

The thing is, my boyfriend is in a fetal position on the ice, unable to move and no one is doing anything about it? That’s not happening, not with Chris. Without a second thought, I get up from my seat, whispering apologies to those I brushed past as I made my way to the rink. Ignoring the stares and comments from the crowd, I stepped onto the ice, my focus solely on reaching Chris. I get in the rink. I don’t give a shit about who’s watching me.

Kneeling beside Chris. His nose was bleeding, he looked pale and disoriented. Gently, I placed a hand on his shoulder, my voice trembling with concern. "Chris" I whisper, my voice shaking "Are you okay? Please look at me..” I beg in a desperate tone

Chris struggled to respond, his voice barely above a whisper as he fought through the pain "Y-Yeah.. I’m fine.." His eyes half-closed in discomfort.

Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps drew my attention, and I glanced up to see some of the players from both teams getting around us, their expressions a mix of confusion and concern. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, a few of them hurried off to get help, while others stood by, unsure of what to do.

“Is he okay?” One of Chris's teammates asked as he knelt beside me, his voice filled with worry.

My anxiety spiked at the sight of Chris's condition, and I couldn't help but let my frustration show. "No, he’s not!" I replied, my voice unintentionally louder than intended. "Don’t you guys have nurses or some kind of medical staff here?!"

The teammate glanced back at me, his expression uncertain. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure they're on their way, don’t worry, he will be fine” He said sounding unsure.

I gently place Chris head on my lap, whispering sweet and calming words on his ear while we wait for someone help us. What I was saying was comforting me more than Chris.

Finally the arena's medical staff arrived, urging us to clear the area around Chris. They place him on a stretcher and wheeling him out of the rink. As they took Chris away, I followed closely behind them, my steps quickening to keep pace with their hurried movements. "Hey, excuse me," I called out to one of the workers, my voice tinged with desperation "Is it okay if I stay with him?" But they seemed way too focused on their task, ignoring me completely as they rushed Chris to a small emergency room they had here, leaving me behind on the hallway, my heart pounded with worry and frustration. But before I could even process what was happening, a familiar voice cut through the silence. I turn around,

Cameron.

"Look who it is" He says, his gaze fixated on me with an unsettling intensity. "Never thought I'd see you here, playing the concerned girlfriend” He chuckles.

My blood boiled at his words, the memories of his unwanted advances and aggressive behavior flooding back with nauseating clarity. "You're sick, Cameron." My voice trembling with rage “You can’t even stand losing a fucking game, you are insane.” I stay some seconds in silence before talking again "You better stay the hell away from me and Chris."

Cameron's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he reveled in my discomfort. "Or what?" He teases, taking a step closer "You gonna hit me? Huh?” He talks in a mocking way

I raised my hand and delivered a good slap on his left cheek, the sound echoing through the empty hallway. "I fucking hate you!" I yell, my voice trembling with rage as I glared at him with undisguised contempt.

Before Cameron could react, the sound of approaching footsteps coming in our attention, and I glanced up to see some of Chris's teammates rushing towards us, their expressions a mix of concern and confusion.

"What's going on here?" The same blonde guy with a four in his shirt asks, his voice tinged with urgency as he eyed Cameron with suspicion.

"Nothing," he muttered, attempting to regain his composure, "I was just.. checking on Chris. But the workers said we have to wait, and unfortunately, I've got somewhere else to be." Cameron lies, fuck he’s good at lying.

He gets closer to me, placing his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it gently. “I hope he gets better” He said in a fake nice tone, like he means it, I move his hand away from me, making him get slightly angry again, he leaves. I watch him go, feeling a sense of relief wash over me knowing that he was finally out of here.

Turning back to Chris's teammate, I say “Anyways..” I take a deep breath “I will just wait here until they say something”

The blonde one nods understanding. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan to me” He replies, his voice filled with sympathy “So, the game was canceled, and we got shit to do, so we can’t really wait here”

“Yeah sure, no problem, I understand” I respond, I try to sound so nice as he is sounding “I'll make sure Chris texts you guys after he leaves the room.”

Chris's teammate nodded appreciatively and they all began to leave to the same direction as Cameron. I sit into a chair next to the door where Chris was, my mind racing thinking about Chris.

Some good ten minutes after, one of the workers is leaving the room, I look up at him, catching his attention. “Excuse me,” I begin, my voice laced with anticipation “can I see Chris?”

He nods, offering a small smile. “Of course, go ahead” He replies kindly before disappearing down the hallway.

Before I enter the room, I take a few deep breaths to control my anxiety. Knocking gently on the door, I slowly open it. He was sitting in a long bench with elastic bandage on his ankle and wrist. Chris's eyes light up at the moment he sees me and a warm smile spreads across his face.

“Shit Chris, I just slapped Cameron in the face!” I say as I close the door behind me. Chris immediately starts laughing. his laugh is contagious. I sit down next to him. “You did not” He keeps laughing

“What’s so funny? I’m being serious” I chuckle, feeling the tension ease from my mind as Chris's laughter fills the room.

"I'm sorry, babe" he says between laughs "But when was that?”

“Literally like fifteen minutes ago! Gosh he’s so fucking annoying! And did you see the way he literally made you fall on purpose? I could break his face right now” I say in a dramatic tone, making him laugh even more.

“Anyways he doesn’t matter..” I look around thinking about what to say “So what did the nurses say?”

Chris's laughter subsides as he leans back against the bench, his expression growing more serious “Nothing much.. I just sprained my foot and my wrist, but nothing much”

“Nothing much?!” I say slightly shocked with his words.

Chris chuckles softly, shaking his head at my reaction. "Okay, maybe it's a bit more than 'nothing much,' but I'll survive" He says with a reassuring smile, though I can see the pain behind his eyes.

I gently reach his injured hand, my thumb tracing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "I'm just glad it's nothing too serious," I say softly, my voice filled with genuine concern. "But still, I can't believe Cameron did that to you! He's such a pussy!" My last sentence makes Chris laugh again.

As I watch him, a sense of relief washes over me, knowing that despite everything, we are still able to find humor in the situation.

Some minutes talking until the silence fills back the room. We are definitely both thinking about the argument we had days ago, cause we didn’t talked since.

“I.. I wasn’t expecting for you to watch the game today” Chris says slightly looking down.

I stay in silence for some seconds “Listen, Chris" I begin, my voice soft but determined "About the arguments we've been having lately.. I know things haven't been the best.. But..” I sigh “But I still care about you, and I always will.”

Chris looks up at me, his eyes softening with emotion as he listens to my words. "I care about you too" He says, his voice filled with sincerity. "I hate that we've been arguing so much, especially over stupid shit.. I just.. I don't want to lose you.”

A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I reach out to gently cup his cheek. "You're not going to lose me, Chris." I assure him. My thumb brushing over his skin affectionately.

He gently buries his face on the crook of my neck, I lay my chin on the top of his head, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.

"I'm sorry for everything," Chris murmurs against my skin. "I don't want us to keep fighting like this."

Now I run my fingers through his hair, feeling a sense of peace settle over us. "I'm sorry too.." My voice sounding like a whisper. "Let's try to work through this together, okay?" He nods softly.

I kiss his head “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He answers quietly.

୨୧

hey, this is the end! i hope you have enjoyed it, if u saw any miss spelling or anything tell me in the comments, please.

also, i think it got kinda confusing cause i was using words on the past and in the present, but idk 😭😭

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sam and colby #christhopersturniolo

[ssweetleaf]

cherry pie.

pairing— dilf!steve harrington x fem babysitter!reader

w/c— 4.5k

♡ summary— turns out your little crush on mr harrington isn’t so one-sided after all, and after many unsuccessful dates, he starts to realise that no one is as good to him as you are.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, age gap (unspecified, but reader is early 20s, steve is early 40s), heavy on the daddy kink i’m sorry, hung!steve, oral (m receiving), praise, nipple play?, breeding kink, smut goes 0-100 real quick sorry, unprotected p in v (wear protection in real life please), steve’s hairy chest makes an appearance bc i’m feral for it, terrible TERRIBLE ending bc it’s me and you should expect it by now!!!

a/n— pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!!

˖ ࣪⭑

You felt pathetic.

Sat on the couch, aimlessly staring at some black and white re-runs on the television while you waited for him. Mr Harrington— clad in his formal attire, he had mentioned before he left while fumbling to put on his watch that he had a date, one that he was already extremely late for— and shit, you couldn’t help the way your chest ached with jealousy, a lump forming in the back of your throat while you tried your best to keep up your sweetest smile.

“Help yourself to anything, honey- what’s mine is yours, you know that.” he spoke, and you held out his coat for him, helping him slip it up his arms and over those broad fucking shoulders, mulling over his choice of words and that stupid pet name.

Whats mine is yours. What’s mine is yours. What’s mine is yours.

“Thanks hon, I’ll be back a little late tonight- kids need to be in bed by 9 at the latest and remember to call me if you need anything.” You nodded, muttering a small okay, before he pressed a little kiss to your forehead, “alright, see you later.”

So hours later, with both kid’s tucked up into bed all tuckered out, you thought about him— the way he looked, so handsome in his shirt and tie, expensive cologne pressed into his wrists and behind his ears, filling your senses completely when he leaned to press his usual friendly kiss, one that never failed to have your knees buckling underneath you.

But that was all it was. Friendly. You were just the babysitter, too young for him, too inexperienced for him, and your face soured when you thought about what his date might look like. Pretty dress and manicured nails wrapping around the glass that held her too-expensive wine, fluttering her lashes and running her leg against his underneath the table— she was probably a lot closer to his age too.

You sighed, pout prominent on your lips, trying to snap yourself out of whatever you had going on, falling for an older man all while you babysat his kids.

Yeah, so pathetic.

12:3am— the clock ticked away upon the mantle piece, going by so slowly you had started to feel your eyes become heavy, though you were soon snapped out of your little stupor at the sound of the front door closing, footsteps clicking along the hall and keys being thrown on the counter.

You rushed to get up, inwardly scolding yourself for seeming so eager, before making your way out to greet him.

“Hey, honey-” his usual smile wasn’t there, instead a frown etched at the corners of his lips, brows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Everything go okay?”

You nodded, but quickly followed up with an answer at the quirk of his brow— he liked when you used your words.

“It went great- I think I really tired them out,” you smiled, pulling at the collar of his coat to take it off him, watching him fix himself some whiskey, the crystal tumbler clacking against the rings on his fingers all while he settled himself on the leather armchair.

You frowned at his lack of conversation— he was usually so chatty, cooing over you for being so sweet to take care of his kids for him, but there he was, silent and mulling over god knows what.

“Mr Harrington?” You inched closer, toeing at the carpet and fiddling with your fingers, not entirely sure how to approach him. “Is everything alright?”

His eyelids fluttered shut, huffing a breath through his nose and you took the time to take a good look at him. His shoulders tense, legs spread wide and the fist that held the whiskey was paling from his constant squeezes.

“I’m fine, doll, really-” he sighed, unoccupied hand scratching along the stubble that littered his pretty jaw. “S’just- m’so tired of these dates.”

Your lips jutted down in a frown, much similar to his, anything that masked the smile that wanted to form— you know it was terrible, but knowing his date went bad, it made a little bit of hope flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

So you sank to your knees, reaching for the laces to his polished shoes, pulling at the string to the bow to loosen it completely.

“Did you wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling at the heel and putting it to the side to work on the other.

You saw him stutter, eyes glazing over a little bit at the way you knelt in front of him, all doe-eyed and doting on him, pretty lashes fluttering up at him whether you knew it or not.

“I-” he started, swallowing hard when your hands rested against his thighs, both shoes untied and discarded somewhere next to you. “They’re just- none of them are right for me.”

Your fingers kneaded at his tense thighs, trailing back and forth against the fabric of his pressed slacks.

“Shit—” he cupped your face in his big palm, stroking at the pudge of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “No one is as good to me as you are, honey.”

You beamed up at his cooing, letting a giggle slip from your throat, giddy and inebriated from his little touches.

“I can make you feel good, too, Mr Harrington-” you were bashful when you said it, skin flushed and gaze flitting to the arm of his chair, fingertips still smoothing over the expanse of his thighs. “Let me make you feel good- please.”

Steve groaned, chest rumbling and he pushed his head back— you watched his adam’s apple bob while he swallowed, his neck on display and you pushed your thighs together when you thought about how pretty it would look covered in your lipstick stains.

“Honey— we can’t-” he stumbled over his words, gazing down at you with such a fondness in his eyes and there was something else, too, swirling around in his vision, all dark and honeyed, glistening in the low light of the lamps. “I’m too old for you— it isn’t right.”

“But, daddy—” you whined, his cock throbbed once you said it, rutting up from beneath his slacks and your fingers itched to press against the bulge there. “you said it yourself, no one is as good to you as I am.”

He felt like a teenager again, close to blowing his load already from the way you said that name. Your name for him and him only.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

It swirled around in his thoughts over and over, round and round, and he had to press a palm against his cock to ease the throbbing just a little, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened, flitting towards his hand.

“Christ, honey— didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He suckled his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing down at you, all warm and gooey, melting your insides into mush, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and throat. “You really want an old man like me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, pout prominent on your puffy lips.

“You’re not old,” he chuckled at that, “want you so bad- want you to be my daddy.”

˖ ࣪⭑

It didn’t take long for you to get his pants off, he even helped you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips up so you could bring them down to his thighs— along with his boxers of course, the sight that sprung from the material leaving you dumb and gawking.

He was huge, both in length and thickness. The rumours really were true, Steve Harrington was absolutely well-endowed, the tip a pretty pink, beaded with pre-cum that just started to trickle along his shaft and into the ridges that ran along the length.

Steve chuckled at your wide eyes, knuckles smoothing against your cheek and chin, eyeing at your parted lips and his cock twitched again when he thought about pressing his thumb between them.

“You’re so big.” You managed to choke out, fingers tentatively wrapping around his base— thumb and fingers barely meeting in the middle from the sheer thickness of it.

You squeezed, hard, watching the way his tummy muscles clenched and his tip leaked.

“I know, sweet girl, but you’re gonna take it so well—” he hissed through clenched teeth at the way your fingers felt, “promise.”

You nodded up at him, already cock-drunk and dumb from his coos, pouting prettily while you felt him up, smearing his pearly pre-cum around, lubing him up real good before you got to work.

“Fuckin’ Christ—” he moaned, your puffy lips wrapped snugly around him after pressing a spongy kiss to his tip, suckling him slightly and lathering your tongue against the thick vein that ran upwards, before pulling off with a lewd pop.

The corners of your lips curled, fluttering your lashes and running your tongue from base to tip, kissing up his shaft and pressing the imprint of your lipstick into his flushed skin.

“Doesn’t that feel good, daddy?” You took him down your throat before he could answer, already touching the back and it wasn’t even all of him, earning a groan that rumbled the span of his chest.

“Y-yeah, honey, feels so good—” he cradled your head, fingers tangling in the strands of your hair, “such a daddy’s girl, hm?”

You hummed around his cock in response, thighs squeezing impossibly close from how turned on you were, arousal practically dripping through your underwear and slicking up the fat of your thighs.

“Yeah you are—” he grinned, pushing you down further, choking you entirely and causing you to gag around his hefty length. “Atta girl.”

It was messy, spit trickling down your chin, pooling along your tits and ruining your makeup— your mascara running down your cheeks in long, black lines and clumping up your sticky lashes.

You were crying, too— tears slipping over your brimming waterline, eyes all glassy and cute, swirly little sparkles floating around your irises whenever you looked up at him.

He looked so pretty, skin glistening with perspiration, a few buttons on his shirt undone and showing off the expanse of his handsome chest, the sight of the course dark hair had you drooling on his cock even more.

“So good to me,” he cooed, “all mine.”

You felt your eyes rolling back, clit pulsing furiously at the idea of being his and his only— you just wanted to be filled by him and bounce on his cock like a little bunny, let him fuck you nice and deep so you’d feel him for days.

“Say it, honey—” he pulled at your hair, cock falling from your lips, “say you’re mine.”

“M’all yours, daddy.” You preened, clutching at his thighs, leaving crescent moons in your wake, “only want you.”

“Fuck— come ‘ere,” he helped you stand up, lips curling upwards slightly when you stumbled on your feet, patting at his lap. “On my lap, there we go.”

You settled yourself, knees digging into the sides of the chair either side of him, hands already drawn to his chest and your palms smoothed over it, tugging at the hair there and thumbs grazing slightly over his nipples.

Steve’s big arms enveloped you, wrapping you up in a sort of hug, bringing your cheek down to smoosh against his chest, letting you nuzzle into him.

It was a strange sort of calm— a few minutes wrapped up, somewhat sated though still needy and pining for each other’s affection. It was nice.

You realised it was nice to feel like you were his.

“What do you need, honey?” He muttered, chin pressed against your head, hands trailing along your back and sometimes slipping to the plush of your ass.

“Wanna be yours,” your whine was muffled by the press of his fuzzy chest, “wanna make you feel good— all the time.”

His cock throbbed at the way you spoke, so crude and sweet, honeyed words travelling straight between his legs and causing him to drip.

He was in too deep and it was not good.

“Come on then, doll-” he cooed, smacking a kiss to your flushed cheek and patting at your ass to get your attention. “Show daddy.”

You nodded, fumbling with the buttons on your blouse, huffing out a breath of frustration before letting him take over, watching with bated breaths as is hands pushed your shirt to the floor, smoothing his palms along your tits and kneading at the covered mounds.

“So pretty, baby,” he pulled at the cups of your bra, letting the weight of your breasts spill over the underwire and the cute little bow that sat in between, showing off your nipples and the way they hardened completely from under his gaze. “Can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ these pretty girls from me.”

Both of Steve’s thumbs grazed over your nipples, bringing his forefingers to squeeze and pull at them, tugging them just to make you mewl and feel the wet spot underneath your skirt grow even larger. And you were putty in his hands, melting into his touch, inebriated from the way he spoke to you, touched you, looked at you.

God, he was handsome.

“Daddy—” you whined, clutching at his wrists and grinding against his cock.

“What is it, honey?” His face was so close to yours, eyes fixated on your pretty tits and he made a quick mental note to pay more attention to them later on.

“Wan’ you to fuck me.” So abrupt, pouting over-exaggerated and lashes fluttering— your pussy way too slick and aroused to have anything other than his cock inside, stretching you out and filling you so lovely.

“Such a greedy thing already-” he pulled you in closer, “barely sucked my cock and you’re just so needy, honey.”

“Can’t help it,” you leaned forward, nose against his, tracing the tip over his cheek and along the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses. “So handsome.”

Steve’s head was in a tizzy, twirling around all dumbified at how pliant you were, how sweet and doting— small praises like that were so big for him, making that blotchy raspberry blush creep and wrap around his neck, fluttering down his chest and even speckling the tips of his ears (the colour much akin to the rouge tip of his cock).

“Gimme a kiss, sweet girl.” Voice so smooth despite the stern undertone, gliding from his teeth to the tip of his tongue and bringing you even closer with a hand cupped around the nape of your neck, fiddling with the little, sensitive hairs that adorned the space.

You obeyed of course, completely eager if anything, practically bouncing at the chance to press your mouth to his. You had been waiting for it, so had he, the soft, spongy kisses— one, two, three, in a quick peckpeckpeck, before it turned deeper, mouths locking, feeling yourself sigh and relax against the firmness of his chest, allowing his to work you open as much as he desired.

The crude, slippery feeling of your tongues finally clashing had you reeling— licking into each other’s mouths and suckling on bottom lips, breath hitching in your throat and you resulted to pressing your palms against his cheeks as a way to ground you before you started floating away from his inebriating kiss.

“Want-” kiss. “Want me to take care of you—” kiss. “Don’t you, honey?”

Oh yes. God you wanted it so bad, you had ever since you laid eyes on him the first time you had met him— nervous and picking at your cuticles, standing shy as he opened his front door with that smile of his, full of charm and warmth— a little cocky at your shyness, though still stuck out a hand for you to shake. You distinctly remembered getting a little light-headed at the mere feeling of his big hand enveloping yours.

He chuckled when you nodded, eyes all dizzy and hooded and he sucked your tongue between his kiss-bitten lips.

“Pretty cunt is fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, baby,” he cupped at the heat between your thighs, your skirt bunched up around the fat of your waist and he thumbed at the pearl of your clit over the sopping fabric that covered you. “Does she want daddy’s cock? Bet she does, huh?”

Your eyes were rolling again, and you were surprised any part of you still functioned. You felt so dumb, so cock-drunk, and you wondered how on earth you would act with his fat cock stuffed deep inside you, jamming at your insides and fucking you until you couldn’t think, just feel.

“Please.” It was a simple utterance, barely there, fluttering your lashes while you said it to sway him, to quicken the pace and have him fill you, though the tears that slipped weren’t for show, brimming down your cheeks constantly from how overwhelmed you were feeling.

“Please, what? What d’you want?”

You pouted at him, nosing at his cheek, not budging until he brought a palm down against your ass, spanking it sharply and swiftly, knocking the air from your already weakened lungs.

“Come on, don’t get shy on me now,” he tugged at the waistband of your panties, pulling upwards until the crotch of them slipped between your folds, snug against your clit and making you mewl. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it t’you.”

“W-want you to fill me up— wan’ your cock inside me, please-”

“Atta girl, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You watched with widened eyes as he gripped at the base of his cock, and still, every time you stared at it, the size of him left you a little breathless, wondering whether he would even fit.

He tugged your underwear to the side, the pink cotton basically see-through and glistening, and he let out a breathy moan at his first glance at your bare pussy. So pretty, so ready for him— wet and slick, clit all engorged and peaking from the hood, begging for some stimulation and you made a similar sound when he tapped his tip against it, pushing it downwards against your hole, collecting your sweet arousal before repeating the action, over and over and over again.

“Don’t get all pouty, gotta make sure you’re ready f’me, honey.”

You wanted to scream at him, holler at the top of your lungs that you were ready— so fucking ready, but you couldn’t, not when his kids were upstairs asleep— you couldn’t afford for them to wake up, you didn’t want the attention to end.

And that was what it come to— selfishly, you wanted all the attention he had to give.

He looked at you, pressed a kiss to your forehead, the glasses that sat upon his bridge slightly askew and you leaned to fix them.

“You think you can take it, baby, or did you want my mouth for a bit?”

A good offer, but you shook your head still, you’d have that later if he was willing, and the mere idea of having him feast upon your pussy had you dripping on the velvety skin of his cock even more than before.

Steve made a humming noise in the back of his throat, before pulling at your thighs, tugging you closer to his chest and having you hover over the length of his cock, just waiting as patient as you could for him to sit you down onto him.

“Be a good girl now— gotta relax f’me.” His hand on your hip helped you sink, the other still wrapped around the base, feeding it slowly into your greedy pussy, watching with a heaving chest at the way your cunt sucked him in, but he could feel the stretch of your walls around him.

“Waitwaitwait—” you gasped out a breath you had been holding, “just need a minute.”

You felt so full, stretched completely, a little less than half of his cock sat inside you and it was still bigger than any you had taken before.

He coddled you, shushing you and pushing a hand up to smooth over your hair.

“Take your time, honey—” he hummed, smacking a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I know it’s a lot to take.”

“You’re huge.” He chuckled at that, though he couldn’t fight the little hitch in his breath when your walls clenched around him, trying hard to adjust.

“I know, I know, but you’re already takin’ it so well.”

The praise had you drip further, the see-through lines of arousal slipping over the rivets on his cock, creating an obscene squelching sound when you lowered yourself a little further.

Just over half now, splitting you open, practically in your guts, you thought at least, and you were sure if you pressed hard enough on the plush of your stomach you would probably feel him there.

“There you go-” he was still cooing at you and you gave him your biggest heart eyes, pout permanently etched onto your lips, and he hoped it wasn’t going anywhere soon. “shit, y’don’t even need any help, takin’ it like a fucking’ champ.”

Almost there, almost all of him was nestled snug inside your cunt, so in a swift movement, you sunk down entirely, a rather less-than-quiet moan simmering from your lips and if it was just the two of you in the house, he would’ve basked in your loudness and pretty whines, but it wasn’t— and the two of you really needed to be quiet.

He pressed a palm over your mouth to stifle your sounds, your lips kissing the divots on the front of his hand, so warm and large, big enough it covered your whole chin and your lashes fluttered at the feeling.

And you started to move, still worked up, and a little sore, but were you really to blame? His cock was massive, stretching and filling places where you didn’t know anyone could reach, and once you started easing yourself up, right to the tip, you sank back down again, a little harsher than the first, whining into his callused skin whilst your eyes rolled back.

With each slow downward thrust of your hips, you could feel the course, dark thatch of hair that trailed from his stomach all the way down to the base of his cock. It was tickling against your clit, much akin to the hair that littered the thickness of those strong thighs of his, rubbing against your ass so deliciously. And his balls, shit— so big, so fucking heavy, full of his cum, the Harrington prodigy stored up inside of them and you throbbed and twitched at the thought of carrying his babies.

Fuck, you were totally down bad.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, honey?” It was almost as if he knew, a smirk heavy and crooked on his lips, his flashy Rolex glistening upon his wrist in the dim light of the lamp while he guided you up and down, up and down, nice and steady, but so, so deep.

You shied away, gaze flitting to the ceiling, and you would’ve stayed like that, waiting for him to drop it, until his palm— once again— came down on your ass in a smack, much heavier than before, much more painful than before, but the sting of it bloomed in your core and had more blood rushing to your clit.

“Come on— when I ask you somethin’ I expect an answer.” He was stern and sharp, though the smirk never left, plucking at the corner of his mouth and mocking you so delectably.

“M’sorry, daddy—” you crooned, hands sliding from his shoulders to the thick muscle of his biceps, the designer fabric of his shirt smooth under your palms. “Was thinking about your cum—”

Your whine was breathy, but you made sure to quiet down, his hips now moving in time with yours, knowing you could take him fully now, though just barely.

“Yeah, you thinkin’ about getting filled? Having all of this cum inside your pretty tummy, huh?” You were glad he had said it for you, far too embarrassed, and way too fucked out to string that sentence together, and the words, when they came from his mouth, sounded much better, you thought. “Want my babies, don’t you, hon?”

You were babbling nonsensical nothings, a sweet concoction of ‘oh yes daddydaddy, please’ fluttering from your puffy lips— nodding at him and clutching at him, his arms, his chest, anywhere you could find, until you settled on his hands, resting your own over his, while they pressed into your hips, guiding you faster now.

It had taken you a little while, but once you were comfortable, you had started to bounce like a little bunny in season, fucking down onto his thick cock, feeling the cut tip of his nudge at your g-spot, the ridges and veins that ran along the shaft so present and eager against your walls— you felt everything, so full, so sated, actually, scratch that, you weren’t sated, not until his cum was deep inside you, not a drop wasted.

“Who would’a thought you’d be bouncin’ on my cock tonight, sweetheart- shit—” sweat was shimmering on his skin, his stomach muscles clenching, not wanting to cum too soon. “So glad it’s you, sweet girl— my girl.”

You nodded, breathless.

“M’your girl, daddy. All f’you.”

Steve was close, closer once you uttered those words, sucking breaths in and bringing you closer, forehead pressed against yours, the sound of the squelchy slapslapslap filling the stuffy room.

“That’s right, that’s right— Christ, m’so close, daddy’s so fuckin’ close.”

And you were too, embarrassingly so, and you made it apparent with your whines, pressing your kisses into his skin, the pace between you growing sloppy, though somehow harder.

“Am too,” you babbled, “can we cum together?”

So sweet, so fucking sweet you were, eyes all big and wet and glistening so prettily, and he thought he would bust at merely gazing at you, but he nodded, his own irises moulding into hearts, quite similar to yours, beating out of his skull like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon.

“Yeah, honey,” he said, “yeah, we can cum together, such a good girl.”

The rope was growing taut, deep in your belly, just begging to snap any time soon, all you were waiting for was one word, one single word to have you unraveling above him—

“Cum,” that was it. “Cum f’me— shit, so good—”

Stars and sparkles all flurried your vision, clouding around Steve and highlighting the way he looked when he came, mouth agape, wanting so badly to close his eyes, but he couldn’t, not when you looked the way you did.

You were a mess, convulsing against his chest, creaming his cock, clenching and twitching around him while you milked him of his sticky cum.

Steve’s lips were on yours in an instant, tongue and lips, sloppy and wet, spit trickling down your chins at the lazy kiss, but too fucked out to care.

And for a while you stayed there, on his lap, slowly kissing while he cradled your head and muttered pretty praises into your ear, though you couldn’t shake a certain thought that swam through the haze that was your brain.

What the fuck happens now?

✰

tagging <3—

@ghostlyfleur @hornyhornyhimbos @crowssixof @lavendermunson @esquivelbianca @ratzztar @justpeachy46 @jackchampionsbbg @hazzaismyreligion @harrington-lover @spikedhe4rt @gabessock

(some blogs i wasn’t able to tag, sorry about that <33)

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #older!steve harrington x reader #dilf!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington daddy kink #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

[just-your-average-cryptid]

ok I know fluff all about economics but. we really need to move away from shareholders and stocks

look at Lego. It’s privately owned, all the stock is in family/company hands, no shareholders. The bricks are made just as well, they’ve kept up good business, they’re doing great. No degrading quality or crappy tricks to increase profits, a set from the 90s will work just as well as a brand new one. Only real difference is more complex pieces (I did their monthly builds before they ended it a few years back, you can see the improvements over the years.)

now look at apple. Apple went public, they’ve got plenty of shareholders. Apple changed their charger ports to a proprietary version. Apple got rid of headphone jacks on their phones. Apple forces you to get a new phone by making apps only use newer software versions that old phones can’t get. Or just killing their battery.

yeah, these are two specific and very different companies, but the point is that businesses that answer to shareholders have to convince them to keep those shares. they want a return on their investment- line go up, more more more, bigger and better. Private companies like Lego don’t - they can keep doing the same thing forever, as long as it still works, and make small improvements along the way. You go public, you chain yourself to the infinite growth cult. And at a certain point, you’ve hit the max. There’s only so many people who need so many things. There’s only so much material to make or run things. You physically can’t keep growing forever.

now this bit is my personal opinion, but shareholders. don’t actually do anything useful. it feels like if I gave you $20 one time and then expect you to give me 0.5% of your paycheck every week after that. I didn’t do anything to help you get that money, but I gave you that $20, so I deserve it. actually, I deserve more. you need to work harder so I can get more money from you. otherwise I’ll take that $20 back, plus interest. you don’t want that, do you? no. so go do some 14-hour shifts and ignore your friends so I can get more money out of you.

you get what I mean? it’s dumb. it sounds really, really dumb.

do not explain the stock market to me I know how it works it’s still stupid

anyway

if we want to still have a livable planet and make real progress towards… anything actually beneficial to the general population and not ten guys with more money than god, we need to step away from shareholder control of businesses. it helps no one, it causes so many problems, it’s not good. deincentivize eternal growth and expansion, center people over profit. use over profit. longevity over profit. etc.

#it speaks #enshittification #anti capitalism #i mean it I’m not hearing 1000 explanations about the stock market shut up

[bellezaycafe]

Get Your Shit Together

genre: I don’t know

pairing: none?

warnings: swearing

context: Sadie volunteered for the 2024 Melbourne GP during a gap year away from uni. She is 20.

comments: i don’t know what this is

Sadie had to force a deep breath through her system. The drivers were not going to like the news she had.

“Alright, listen up!” She called, feeling a bit like she was talking to a random sports club team. “The FIA has finalised the penalties and we have two drivers dropping down.”

There was a chorus of “what?”, “no!” and “fuck me,” in different languages.

“Lance Stroll, you have been given two 5-second penalties for track limits. I’m told that you were only informed about one.” Sadie tried to give him a gentle smile.

It might not have come across that way as she braced herself for the next one.

“Max Verstappen and Pierre Gasly, you were both given a 10-second penalty for overtaking under yellow flag conditions.” A small cry of outrage came from Charles Leclerc. “This was decided during your last lap and was not conveyed to your engineers in time for them to tell you.”

Max Verstappen’s face pulled into a glare of fury, while Pierre buried his face in his hands.

“What do you mean, 10-second penalty?”

Sadie hoped he didn’t explode at her during the next piece of news. She looked down at the iPad in her hands and read the standings.

“Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri and Charles Leclerc were all under ten seconds behind you, so you will now be P4.”

“What?! Are you serious?!” The world champion did explode. “Pierre overtook me and I was just taking it back!”

It had been a long weekend for Sadie. She had never been to an F1 race before, let alone volunteered at one; she knew she would be busy but she hadn’t expected to be thrust into learning the hard way at 7 am. And again at 10. Again at 2. And now again at 5:20 pm.

“I understand that, Max-“ She held up a placating hand, reining in a scathing reply.

“Obviously you don’t if you are giving me a penalty for -“

Sadie cut him off with a sharp laugh. “Who do you think I am, Verstappen? Huh?”

He stopped leaning towards her, something he hadn’t noticed himself doing.

She took advantage of his hesitation. “I am a volunteer. What power do you think I have to change this for you?” she spat.

A scowl appeared on his face as he began to lean in again. “Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sadie saw Lewis start forward. She put a hand out to stop him.

“I know who I am talking to. You are a three time world champion who will survive coming P4, just this once. You are Max Verstappen the reigning Champion, not Max Verstappen the upset child! Get your shit together!”

He stopped at that. All of the drivers did. Several looked ready to jump forward and restrain him, Lewis included.

Sadie saw the anger leave his eyes and said to everyone, “if you’re all sick of the FIA imposing these penalties just before interviews, maybe you should all say something. Together, as the drivers.”

It was Carlos who shrugged. “If something happens in the final laps, it is fair for it to reach us after the race.”

“Yea,” Lewis agreed. “But not half an hour after the checkered flag.”

All the drivers conceded that.

“I’m going to read out your standings and you’re going to stand in that spot. Do not“ -Sadie glared at Max- “complain to me, I cannot help you.”

And read them out she did. Charles had won, Oscar had come a close second and Lando an even closer third.

Max silently simmered in his P4 position and Daniel Riccardo smiled at Sadie from P5. Lewis, in P6, held a fist out for a fist bump.

The rest of the grid lined up in their order. They went out one by one and did their interviews.

Sadie sighed once they were all gone. At least, she’d thought they were all gone. Carlos Sainz, who had crashed out in lap 4, hadn’t gone out for his interviews yet.

“I don’t know if that was brave or stupid.”

Sadie jumped and shook her head. “I don’t know either and to be honest, I’m too tired to care. He was angry, I understand that, but my patience has been worn very thin.”

Carlos hummed thoughtfully as he left with a soft wave.

Sadie pulled in a deep breath. Her last job for the day was done. She’d be back in the morning to help pack down the equipment.

She needed some time to contemplate how she’d just yelled at Max fucking Verstappen.

——$——

If you want to see more of Sadie interacting with the grid, let me know! - Belle

Masterlist

#f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x oc #formula 1 #formula one #get your shit together

[wizkiddx]

54321

summary: pierre still finds spa incredibly difficult - and has many an emotion that has built up to explode

pierre gasly x driver!reader

Warnings (pls read!): grief, panic attacks (different for everyone, just my interpretation of it), general anxiety, death (pls pls don't read if any of these could trigger u - inbox is always open if u need to talk) xxx

///////////////////////////////////////////

“Y/n! We’re late!”

“Yeh I know-I know I’m comin-“

“Now 3 minutes late and the bus is-“

“Yeh I know! I’m coming!” You practically screamed as you smoothed out your mclaren team uniform, taking one last glance in the mirror of your drivers room before yanking the door open. Max, your press officed, was glaring at you from the other side, before immediately spinning on his heel to lead you down the papaya lined corridors. 

“You’re getting a reputation for being late you know.”

“It’s not my fault! There was just this really cute kid out there and they were a massive mclaren fan and-“

“You need to learn to smile and wave. Because really you know if you are late it’s my job that’s at risk and-“ You already tuned out Max’s lectures - you got them at least once a day so really it was part of an everyday occurrence. 

The two of you had come to an unspoken conclusion. You would never change and neither would he. So the lectures were here to stay. 

Being a rookie in their first season, there obviously is alot of eyes on you and media was important. But there was just so much. It was eye watering. Today, for example, it was qualifying day. As in big important day. And yet, you had spent at least 3 hours doing media. 

And now you were late for the drivers parade. A stupid tradition where all 20 of you got on the roof top bus and make small talk, whilst waving to the crowds. Honestly it seemed a bit outdated, though it was a nice chance to chat to the other drivers - actually further away from prying mics and cameras than in the paddock. So small victories. 

This one seemed particularly annpying though, just because the lap in Spa is so so long. You’d be on the bus for ages, because there was no way it was going up eau rouge with any speed. 

You didn’t want to keep all the other drivers waiting, it was on their time too after all. So you and Max jogged through the paddock, dodging everyone shouting your name, to get into the FIA building. It was the area of the pit garage which wasn’t controlled by a team, instead the FIA. It was where you got weighed after the race, and all the other box ticking activities. 

Just as you entered the covered over area, a swarm of blue and white clouded your vision, one of them heading straight for the two of you. 

“Max you haven’t seen Pierre have you?” A thick french accent from the tall brunette, who you quickly pieced together as always being with the french alphatauri driver he was trying to locate. Either a coach, engineer, PR or friend you assumed. He completely ignored you, directing the question solely at Max. 

“Not from our direction, you ok?” Max had apparently - for once- picked up on mood and asked the man if everything was alright. To be fair, it was pretty obvious, he was sweating and looking round frantically.

“He’s not doing so great and now he disappeared and- I actually shouldn’t probably be saying this.” He looked like he wanted to leave the conversation, shuffling from foot to foot. 

“No worries. You go, we’ll keep an eye.” You butted yourself into the conversation as the man smiled thankfully before already making his way out. 

“That was weird” Max muttered under his breath, as the two of you started walking again. Agreeing you nodded, biting your lip in the hope it genuinely was nothing and Pierre had just been taken for an interview or a fan or something. 

“Who was that by the way? I’ve seen him around but never…”

“Oh thats Pyry, yeh Pierre and him kind of keep themselves to themselves but I know him back from when we both worked in Indycar so.” 

“You think Pierres okay?” You spoke to Max in between greeting a few FIA people as you entered the ‘holding pen’ full of drivers before you got on the bus. 

“Sure it’s nothing, right can I trust you to stay here and go on the parade without risking my job again? You were rolling your eyes at his sarcasm, ready to slap back with a crass word except something quite quickly popped into your mind. He saw you freeze and instantly read your mind. “SERIOUSLY?”

“I’m sorry I just didn’t get a chance to go before we left the team and the bus is gonna be long and I really need a wee!” 

“You are so lucky that gaslys gone awol otherwise-“

“You love me really!” You ended the conversation, jogging toward the toilet facilitates in order to piss the guy off as little as possible. The FIA toilets were hardly glamourous, just hidden round a series of soon to be flat packed corridors leading to three stalls and basic sinks opposite. They had only become unisex toilets after your first race - where you found there were no womens toilets as apparently before there wasn’t a need. Safe to say you were furious at that. 

As you rounded the corner, a noise struck you - making you stop in your tracks and look around. It was as though someone was panting or having an asthma attack- whatever was happening they appeared to be gasping for breath. Tiptoeing further into the toilet, not wanting to scare whoever it was, you crouched down. From that angle you could see a hunched body sitting with there back to the cubicle door. The gasping only got louder, it sounded like they were really in trouble, so you knew you had to do something. 

You knocked lightly on that door before calling out a soft hello. You saw the person flinch, clearly a bit shocked, and momentarily silence fell over the cubicles. 

“Hey, um, I just wanted to check if you needed anything?”What sounded like a muffled sob escaped the person, before a cough and then a rasped reply. 

“C-cant breaathe.”

“Do you have an inhaler or anything?” Thinking this still could be an asthma attack you were primed to run to the medic tent or something. 

“F-feel like….like I will die.”

It was those words that gave it away. A heavy french accent that so normally was coupled with a cocky smile. It was remarkably different to normal, but then Pyry’s words echoed in the back of your mind. ‘He’s not doing so great’.

And then you put it all together. Spa. Anthoine. Pierre. 

“You’re not going to die Pierre, but we should try and get your breathing under control okay?” You spoke in a measured, calm tone to the closed door you were now crouched infront of. 

“Can’t-can’t breathe.” He just responded in a shaky tone. 

“Can you turn around and open the door? It might help to get some fresh air in?” There was some huffing and puffing, but eventually the door cracked open. He was still sitting on the floor and looked through the crack with a terrified suspicion. “It’s okay it’s just me in here…Y/n - is that okay?” With the confirmation there wasn’t an audience, Pierre allowed the door to fully open as he sat crosslegged - clutching his knees. 

He was in head to toe alpha tauri merch, but that wasn’t the striking thing. He looked so small and scared hunched in a ball as he continued to gasp for breath, his eyes red and shining. He looked broken. 

“Good job okay, so have you ever tried grounding before?” He shook his head violently, and you shuffled forwards to sit directly opposite him. He may not have tried it before, but you had always found grounding helpful - so maybe it was worth a try. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk you through it. Can you tell me 5 things you can see?”

“Wha-what do you-“

“I know it sounds silly but sometimes it helps. 5 things you can see?” He looked at you, still gasping and trembling, but also with a quizzical look. 

“uhm I see…. I see you…”

“Good, thats one, what else can you see?”

“uhm the-the door?” He looked at you almost unsure, so you gently nodded in order to get him to go on. “and the-the sinks?”

“Doing really good, can you get two more?”

“I-I see the toilet paper and-and the toilet?” He briefly looked round to the loo before speaking, and you let out a gentle chuckle.

“Yeh admittedly not very glamourous, but you did really good. Now can you try and tell me four things you can feel? It could be the ground your clothes, anything.” 

“I-err” He took a few more fast breaths before continuing.”the tiles on the floor, the-the shoes I wear?” Again he looked at your for encouragement which you gave, both by nodding and offering your hand out. It was a simple gesture, because sometimes you ran out of things to say for this category and someone elses hand counts. “I feel my shirt collar and-and you.” He squeezed your hand gratefully and you smiled, moving onto three things he can hear. He said the crowd (which you could hear the quiet rumble of everywhere), the leaking tap and your voice. At this point his breathing was a lot better though he was trembling. By no means was he okay - but he didn’t seem in the flight or fight stage anymore. 

“Okay now two things you can smell?”

“In a toilet?” He retorted back, making the both of you laugh - him wetly, and you could tell he was only laughing for your sake but you took it. 

“Humour me.”

“Ok…well-well the toilet-“ You shook you head and rolled your eyes playfully. “and-and your perfume.” He answered honestly and you smiled, noting to buy another bottle of it - if it can overpower a toilet then thats a win. 

“Now one thing you can taste, but I always carry these in my pocket because this one is a difficult one.” You held out a packet of mints, offering out to Pierre. He smiled smally before accepting your offer and popping the white polo into his mouth. 

“Is this not cheating?” 

“Yeh maybe a bit. So what one thing can you taste?” 

“Mint.”

“No way!” You exclaimed sarcastically and Pierre chuckled a bit at you. “How are you feeling now?”

“Well I can breathe so thats a bit better.” He was still almost whispering and you could still tell he wasn’t okay. With the hand he was holding you squeezed lightly before, cautiously, asking your next question. 

“Sometimes it can be helpful to talk about whats going on?”

“I don’t really talk about him.” That sounded like a pre-programmed response, one he used for the media, used for friends. 

“Anthoine?”

“Yeh” He nodded, looking defeated. You decided the change tack. You told him to shuffle up, and then you sat right next to him - you were both sat against one wall of the toilet cubicle, feet pressed against the other wall. 

“I lost a friend, Mia, when we were 20 last year. And it’s weird because I didn’t use to think of her everyday, because there was no need, she was there living her life and I was living mine. But then, when she died, everything changed. I feel like I have to think about her, to keep her memory alive. But I wasn’t ever thinking about her life, I was thinking about death and missing her. It was unsustainable.”

“Toino was like my brother.” You hadn’t expected him to speak up but almost immediately he launched himself into words and thought that had clearly been on the tip of his tongue for so long. “And everyone just keeps carrying on but I don’t feel like I can. Not like that.”

“Like the world keeps on turning for everyone else but for you-“

“ oui… and we come back here every year and I drive round where he died and I live it again and again and again… And you are right, I don’t think about his life, I think about his dea-“ He cut himself off when his voice broke, covering his face with his hands as he broke down. 

There was nothing to be said. You just sat with him, your side pressed up next to his in the squashed cubicle. He cried for a little bit, letting it all out. You just stayed quiet, watching the blank wall in front of you. That was until a couple of moments later, when the man beside you spoke up again. 

“Thanks for… well for knowing what to do.”

“It’s ok, anyone would help. It’s just how I’d want someone to treat me too.” You felt his eyes on you, looked over to see his eyes burning a hole in your head with there intensity. 

“It happens… it happens to you too?”

“I have panic attacks yeh, I’m used to them but it doesn’t make them any less scary when they happen.”

“I only had since Tonio and only once or twice but… I just feel like somethings wrong with me.” You sighed quietly, heartbroken to hear the way he was speaking. Before this you’d had a maximum of three conversations - mostly were small talk about the weather. But you couldn’t not feel empathy for the man sat next to you. 

“Nothing is wrong with you, we are all just human. And sometimes its shitty but thats the way it is. You think you’ll be okay for this afternoon?” This afternoon meaning qualifying. Pierre shuffled, before nodding, again catching your eyes. 

“I think so - I’m just tired.”

“Panic attacks are draining. Luckily we still have-“ Checking your branded watch you smiled gratefully. You would’ve missed drivers parade now. Silver linings and all. “- three and a half hours and a pre-race nap is part of my routine. I’m sure you can talk to Pyry and squeeze one in?”

“You know Pyry? Sorry just realise we haven’t spoken alot.”

“No no don’t be, and I just bumped into him today actually. Are you feeling ready to…” The blonde took a shuddering breath, as if to steel himself. The two of you stood up, exiting the confined toilet cubicle and out by the sinks. 

“Oh putain!” Pierre cursed quietly as soon as he saw himself in the mirror, his red eyes, flushed and tear stained cheeks. You had to snicker at that - even if you felt bad for him it was weird to see the normally oh so confident and oh so put together driver unhappy with his appearance. It was nothing a splash of water couldn’t fix though, and just before you were about to leave, Pierre grabbed your arm. 

“Seriously thankyou Y/n and…and I’d appreciate it if this stayed between you and me.”

“You don’t have to thank me and you don’t have to worry either. If you do want to talk or anything too I’m always- this sounds stupid.”

“No no thankyou for the offer. It umh- it was good to properly meet you. Y/n” He offered you a hand, to which you shook with a shy smile.

“You too Pierre, if I don’t see you before the race - you’ll do great.”

“You too Y/n” 

You left the toilet with a quiet smile, the two of peeling off to your respective crews. Pyry was waiting around just on the left and you saw him wrap an arm round Pierres shoulders as he led him towards the motorhome. You smiled to yourself, grateful that Pierre was doing a bit better than before. That was until you saw Max and new you’d be in shitloads of PR trouble. 

“Max! I’m so sorry I swear I can expl-“

“Y/n I’m actually not about to lecture you!” He almost laughed, to which you cocked you head at, as he started leading you through the paddock again. “I came to get you but heard you talking to Pierre, thought it was best to give you both a bit of privacy.”

“Oh thanks mate, I appreciate thtat alot.”

“No stress, and I’ve already smoothed everything over with the FIA and organisers for you both missing the parade. So just so you know you owe me - big time.” 

“When do I not Max?” He just laughed, patting you on your back before heading off down the paddock. 

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The rest of the weekend was pretty much run of the mill. Your qualifying was pretty good, coming out P4 and beating both mercedes and checo and lando - so a pretty decent result. You’d only seen Pierre brefily as you passed him in the paddock. Maybe he actually hadn’t seen you or maybe he was playing it cool and pretending the morning never happened - if so you didn’t really mind, he clearly had stuff to work out and understandably you were low priority. 

Sunday morning was pretty overcast, but you quickly and efficiently completed all your media and team commitments with two hours before you were needed back in the garage. So you and your coach Eddie had escaped the madness in your motorhome - provided for you by the team. It was a welcome escape from the chaos of the paddock and garages, where you could shower, relax, get changed and generally decompress. Determined to make use of the facilities you decided to shower then have a pre-reace nap in the bed at the back. 

You left Eddie in the communal area as you showered, hence why you were  surprised when you turned off the basking hot water to hear three voices from the otherside of the door. The motorhomes were supposed to be super private- only personal guests of the drivers were allowed in. So who on earth Eddie was having chit-chat with was beyond you - even mclaren personnel werent supposed to be allowed in without your say so.

COonfused, you hurried to put on your fire-resistant ‘unders’ layer - in order to be race-ready and because they were pretty damn comfortable. Quickly checking yourself in the half fogged up mirror, you accepted the fact you did look like a drowned rat and whoever it was would just have to deal with it. As you opened the door, the hushed conversations halted immediately, silence overtaking the motor home as all eyes fell on you. Especially some piercing blue ones. 

“Y/n, I hope you don’t mind but Pyry and Pierre wanted to catch up with you and I thought you wouldn’t mind-“ Your coach spoke first, gesturing to the two men sitting bolt upright on the edge of the little sofa. 

“No no, of course not! Sorry I just got out of the shower but erm… well it’s nice to finally meet you Pyry.” 

“The pleasure is all mine” He spoke with such a french smoothness, one that no doubt melted alot of peoples hearts before. “But Eddie and I will leave you alone.”

“Oh will we know?” Eddie almost squacked, making you stifle a little laugh at his almost offended face. He looked to you questioningly, to which you replied. “Go have an hour or two off, I was only going to nap anyway.” He looked slightly rejected, standing up slowly as he followed Pyry to the door.

“I’ll be back when you need prep for the race, and if you need anything just give me a call.” He was being overprotective and you knew it, but it was also endearing. True to your word, you hadn’t told Eddie or anyone else about the incident with Pierre yesterday. Of course Max, yoru PR manager, had overheard- but he was surprisingly being quite reserved with it. So when Eddie saw the biggest player in the paddock suddenly wanting your attention alone - his distrust was understandable. 

With a final quizzical look Pyry dragged poor Eddie out the motorhome, leaving just you and Pierre now standing awkwardly opposite each other. 

“Do you want to…” Jiltedly you offered him a seat on the sofa - cutting through the cold atmosphere. 

“I’m sorry this was Pyry’s idea.” Pierre muttered, refusing to meet your eyeline. But you saw enough to know his eyes were deep and sunken. He looked tired and broken. 

“No no don’t apologise!… But er, what was Pyrys idea?” Letting out a little embarrassed huff, Pierre continued. 

“Well, I-er-I told him about yesterday in the-the toilet and well I didn’t sleep las night but I tried the 54321 thing and it worked but I still cant completely calm down and-and so Pyry said maybe if you helped yesterday you could help now? I know it’s a stupid idea and probably don’t have time so I can just leav-“

“Pierre!” You had to physically interrupt his ramblings or you thought there would be a high risk he’d never stop. “I’m glad you came. And as I said to Eddie, I was just planning on taking a nap anyway - and in the nicest way it looks like you need it too.”

He looked gobsmacked - mouth literally hanging open- at what you thought was a pretty unsurprising answer. But then maybe, he really hadnt expected it. Which made sense - you were hardly friends, and now you were casually offering to nap together? 

“You-you are sure? It isn’t weird?” His french accent came out a little more which was incredibly endearing, as you patted the space next to you on the bed. 

“Not to me. And if it makes you feel more comfortable-“ you paused, clambering to the sofa and stealing all the decorative papaya cushions from it.” - heres a pillow wall so this is your side and this is mine.” 

The normally supremely confident blonde man still looked like a deer caught in headlights, but you were well aware this wasn’t at all his normal. Agreeing with your plan, he took his coat off and placed it on the sofa before clambering on to his side of the bed. And then there was silence for a bit, both of you staring up at the ceiling with a wall of pillows beside you. It gave Pierre time and space to speak freely - something which you kind of knew he needed. 

“You were right yesterday. I think of his death, not of his life… I try but I-I constantly disappoint myself and-and him.” He sighed, giving you a chance to figure out what the hell to say in response to that.

“Okay well, tell me about him. What is your earliest memory of him?” The lack of response was deafening, you were worried you might’ve overstepped. But then the top pillow of the wall, the one that was blocking your vision of his head, was whipped away. Both of you turned over on the bed - still otherwise seperated- but looking deep into his eyes. 

“He-he was my brother. We met only when we were tiny…”

And Pierre spoke and spoke and spoke. Spoke about meeting as eight year olds, both with unruly long side-swept hair that looked ridiculous. He spoke of their first arguement after a karting incident which he only now admits as his fault. He spoke about living together for half a year when they were both in the early part of their career. He spoke of holidays hiking, hours in the gym, staying with his family. He spoke the story of Anthoine, from his perspective. 

You sensed where he got near the ending. His free, almost rambling speaking, only pausing to consider how to say what he was thinking in english, changed. It became jilted, more tense, more stuck. Before it became overwhelming for him you interrupted. 

“He sounds a bit like you, you know? A bit less arrogant, less of an arsehole, but a bit like you.” Pierre chuckled, taking in a breath and closing his eyes before responding. 

“I see why you say that, but he was not like me at all . Not really. I…I think thats why I needed him. Why I still do I guess.” 

“ I don’t think it’s like that, not really. People sometimes bring out something in ourselves we don’t easily find. The right person, they fit in the right way, the equal and the opposite. It’s balance. When I lost my friend, I realised all the parts of me that I didnt have but they did. The bits she couldnt fill in for me anymore. She was funny, she was a sarcastic pessimist, she was so innocent and she was so brave. She was brilliant.” 

“She sounds like a contradiction.” Pierre noted and it made you chuckle a bit. 

“She was and thats what was so beautiful about her. But, the point is, only when I lost her did she teach me the most. Because instead of relying on her to be those things, I had to learn to do it for myself. I embraced her and all her weird quirks. It-it might sounds stupid, but I feel like she really does live on in me. Her death changed me- it was so hard and so shit. But I changed for the better. I grew to be more like her… I still sometimes joke with her in my head. When someone says something we have an in-joke about. I hear her laugh. They are with us, I think. They will always be.” 

There was silence again for a few moments, but it wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. It just was. 

“When did she…” He didn’t finish off the sentence but you knew what he meant. 

“2 and a half years ago. Cancer.”

“putain” he muttered under his breath, making your eyebrows quirk into the pillow.

“Putin? Like Vladimir?” 

“No-no cherie” he half laughed at your confusion “it is french. It means um shit or fuck.” 

“Oh ah, well yeh putin indeed.”

“No, Putaine!”

“Pootain?” You butchered, but Pierre knew it was best to admit defeat.

“putain.” He agreed, both of you looking at each other in a serious deadly silence that lasted about 3 seconds until you both burst out laughing. 

It wasn’t that funny but the laugh was needed. So you both laughed. 

It took a minute of two for you both to calm down, but when you did you both reverted to the same positions you were in before. Facing each other, eyes locked with each other. 

“You think you’ll be able to sleep for a bit?” 

“I thinik…”He took a minute, literally to think, you could see the cogs turning. “I think I might… it feels less…less crushing.”

“Thats a good start.” You genuinely smiled over at him, it felt as though you could see the change in his face. He still looked like shit - or merde, as you now knew. But there was something about his eyes. They looked calmer. “Goodnight Pierre.”

“Goodnight Y/n.”

You woke up instinctively, to the noise of the motorhome door opening. Craning your neck up, you gave Eddie a sleepy smile as he tiptoed into the motorhome, followed by Pyry just on his shoulder. Given Eddies much calmer demeanour, even though you were now actually in bed with Pierre, you assumed Pyry must of said something to him. Otherwise god knows, you’d half expect Eddie to remove Pierre from the motorhome himself. He was like your overprotective dad but so much worse. 

Pierre. You looked back from the doorway to the guy to your left. It was only at that point you realised the both of you had barely moved. The pillow wall stood strong, except from the removed highest one, which meant you could see the frenchman. Facing towards you, you noticed things you never had before about Pierre. His almost fluffy stubble, that contradicted the sharp jawline it framed. How surprisingly long his eyelashes were, almost dusting the surface of his undereye. How peaceful he looked. When he didn’t have the smug smile or flirtatious eyes, maybe his face would be tolerable. 

“45 minutes till you need to be in garage, thought it was time we  started warm-up.” Eddie spoke in a hushed voice, getting your attention from the man beside you again. You nodded in agreement, then tried to work yourself out the bed without moving it to disturb Pierre. You weren’t his coach, but you could tell the man was in desperate need of sleep. Even if it wasn’t his usual way to prepare for a race you thought Pyry should maybe make an exception and allow him to sleep for longer. 

“You guys can stay in here as long as you need. We can warm up in the garage right?” You looked from Pyry to Eddie, all of you keeping your voices low. 

“You are a miracle worker, thankyou from the both of us.” Pyry looked almost relieved, making you blush. 

“I didn’t do-“

“You really did. Thankyou, and goodluck for the race.” 

With one last look at the man curled up in your bed, Eddie lightly pulled you out of the motorhome. 

You needed to concentrate. You had a race after all. 

let me know what u think - and pls pls if u need my inbox is always open x

#pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly one shot #pierre gasly #pierre gasly angst #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Chapter warning has drinking, a drunk and all over the place Buggy, and Sunny just quietly being "what the fuck". Also it's Buggy's birthday. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I actually have started rewriting it after chapter 5 because I realized I wanted to change some things up.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 6

“I think she’s heartbroken.” Benji said as he and Miss Pins watched you stumble around the shop, looking through stacks of fabric and spools of thread looking for your tailor’s chalk that was tucked up in behind your ear. You had been acting… odd since you told Buggy to leave the shop three weeks ago. You managed to sew a customer’s order to your lap, sewed cuffs inside out on another one, and just now you spent the last hour looking for the blue piece of tailor’s chalk that you tucked behind your ear. 

“Oh?” Miss Pins replied, head resting in her hand as she watched you look through the same stack of fabric again. “You’re a kid, how do you know about heartbreak?”

“I was in love with a girl and she broke my heart.” Benji told her as you finally found the chalk and set it on the table. “We were 12. She told me she wanted someone nicer, which was dumb. I am nice. I just voice my opinions.”

“Well, don’t get hung up on that young romance. Someone else will come around.” The old woman said as you started looking for your scissors next. They were in a cup in front of you along with other tools. “This is really sad. Did she like the idiot that much?”

“I think so.” Benji frowned. “I didn’t like him.”

“Neither did I.” Miss Pins sighed. “So of course Sunny would.”

“Why did she like him?” Benji asked. Miss Pins shrugged.

“She’s always been kind, ever since she showed up here all those years ago.” Your boss replied. “No matter who someone was or how awful they were, she would just be nice to them.”

You finally found the scissors and held them up triumphantly before pausing and staring down at your work. It took you so long to find the tailor’s chalk that you forgot why you needed it and the scissors. You were distracted, half expecting Buggy to come bursting into the shop any moment now with some silly little thing to fix on his jacket, but you were quite firm when you told him to leave that one day, so he must have taken it to heart. You weren’t going to see him again.

Was it fair you got upset because he couldn’t remember your name? But at the same time, the way he reacted was more hurtful. Something stupid like your name. It repeated in your head nonstop and you wished it wouldn’t. He was just so mean about it. Sure, he had been rude and a bit of an ass since you met him, but it was never mean. 

You remembered what you were working on. A customer wanted his jacket to have reinforced stitches in the sleeves but more room in the shoulders to allow him better movement when he used his sword. He had come into the shop and while you even thought he was handsome, you didn’t hide your disappointment that it wasn’t Buggy. Miss Pins gave the job to you and the man paid ahead of time, so you immediately started working. 

Maybe Buggy would show back up.

~

You had been fast asleep until you were woken up by someone yelling outside the shop. You heard your boss shouting from her bedroom window at whoever it was, but you got up to see what was going on. You heard her shout Dammit Buggy! So you headed downstairs to the shop and opened the door. 

Sure enough, Buggy was standing there, glaring upwards at Miss Pins’ window. He swayed where he stood, a bottle clutched in his hand before he raised it up.

“You’re loud too, Miss Pins!” He shot back before shrieking and jumping out of the way. Miss Pins had dumped a cup of water on him. “Hey!”

“Buggy?” You stepped out of the shop and closed the door behind you. His eyes lit up when he saw you and he had a big smile on his face. His face was flushed and he looked so happy to see you.

“Su-Sunny! You’re still here!” He slurred, grinning as he dropped the bottle and threw his arms around you, catching you off guard. “I thought maybe… maybe you left and never wanted to see me again!”

Oh, this was a happy and drunk Buggy. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as well coming off of his clothes. You wondered how much he had already. It was best to send him on his way, to not get involved, but you worried what sort of trouble he would get into if you left him alone, so you called up to your boss’s window that you’d be back later, you wanted to make sure he got back to his ship safely. You picked up the bottle and put your arm around his waist, keeping a firm hold on him to keep him from wandering off.

“‘S my birrrrthday!” He announced as he slung an arm over your shoulder, laughing loudly as you made your way down the road and toward the docks. “I’m… I’m two months… After you. I’m younger.”

“You definitely are.” You mused as you tightened your arm around him. He looked at you with a smirk.

“You’re touching me.” He lifted his arm to have another drink and realized he didn’t have his bottle. “Where-”

“I have it, Buggy.” You told him, holding it up to show him. “No more, okay?”

He looked grumpy until his hand popped off and grabbed it from you, bringing it back to himself. Smirking triumphantly, he raised the bottle to his lips and continued drinking. You weren’t opposed to drinking at all, but you also didn’t want to be around a drunk pirate right now. You wanted to be home and sleeping.

“Which one is your ship?” You asked when you came to the docks. He lowered the bottle and frowned as he looked at them before pointing to one furthest to the right. You hoped he was right as you walked with him to the ship, still keeping a hold on him. Once you dropped him off you’d head back home, but he turned to you with bright and excited eyes.

“Have a drink with me!” He pleaded. “It’s… it’s my birthday.”

“I know it’s your birthday, you told me.” You reminded him. “And I don’t want a drink, Buggy. I need to get home.”

“Please?” He asked as he stopped in his tracks. You kept your arm around him and looked over at him. The happy and bouncy Buggy was gone, replaced with someone different. He looked unsure of himself right then as he asked you, turning his gaze to his feet. You were going to regret this but you sighed and nodded.

“One drink.” You told him, and before you knew it, he was smiling again and taking hold of your hand, leading you up to his ship with his chest puffed out proudly, looking quite happy once more. You followed after him, shaking your head as he led you to what you figured was the captain’s quarters. One drink, that was it, then you’d head home.

He finally finished the bottle and tossed it aside before stumbling over to a cabinet for more. You took a seat on his bed, watching him as he rummaged around before pulling out two glasses and a bottle. He grinned at you, wagging his eyebrows as he brought you a glass and opened the bottle, but you took it from him.

“The birthday boy shouldn’t be pouring his own drink.” You told him as he plopped down beside you. You didn’t trust him to not spill it everywhere so you poured him a glass before your own, setting the bottle out of his immediate reach (which was silly because he could still grab it with his Devil Fruit powers). “Cheers, Buggy.”

He smiled brightly and let his head rest on your shoulder as he gripped his glass tightly. “You’re nice.” 

“I’ve been told that.” You chuckled. “Thanks.” 

“No, no, no, you’re so nice.” He continued gushing. “And… y’know, I’m gonna marry you. You’re so nice, Sunny, and I’m not married, y’know, so we should get married.”

You choked on your drink and set the glass aside, coughing a bit before clearing your throat. Oh, he was so drunk. You reached up to pat his cheek gently. “You’re not going to remember any of this tomorrow, so don’t propose marriage to me yet.”

He tossed his drink back before giving you his glass. You put it beside yours, not wanting to fill it back up. The moment your hand was free he took it in his own, entwining his fingers with yours as he continued his drunken rambles.

“We’ll get married, because you’re so nice to me, and I’ll be so happy.” He continued as he turned to look up at you. “I want to be happy with you, Sunny.”

“Buggy, I want you to be happy too.” You told him. “I don’t know if marrying someone will make you happy, however.”

“Is it because I was an asshole on your birthday? Is… is that why you won’t marry me?” Buggy asked with a frown. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry I was mean. I was an asshole. I like you a lot and got scared ‘cause I couldn’t remember your name, and you have a nice name, and I didn’t get you a present.” He suddenly dropped your hand and stood up, marching back over to his cabinet. “Wait, I wanna sh-show you somethin’!”

Oh, Drunk Buggy was just a bit everywhere. Happy, excited, emotional, and apologetic. It was kind of fun to see in a way. He rummaged through the cabinet before hurrying back over to you, tripping over his own feet before falling onto his bed beside you. He held up something and you took it. They were photographs of two young boys, one with a straw hat and red hair, and the other had to be Buggy going by the bright red nose and scowl. 

“That’s me,” He pointed to himself in the photo. “Wasn’t sure if you knew. And that’s Shanks. We… we were best friends on a ship together and then we weren’t.” He frowned. “Haven’t been for a few years.” He sat up on the bed and leaned into you again. “You’re really nice.”

“Thank you for apologizing for my birthday, Buggy.” You told him as you looked through the photos. There weren't many, and they were old, showing their age in their wrinkles and fading color. Buggy certainly was a cute little kid. “I’m sorry I was rude to you.”

He straightened up and put both of his hands on your cheeks, turning your head so you faced him. He glared at you and you wondered what was about to happen, but his gaze suddenly softened and he looked down at his lap, his hands still on your cheeks. “Don’t you ever apologize because you’re perfect and have done nothing wrong ever.”

You put both of your hands on his and moved them off your face. “Buggy, I think you need to go to bed.”

He turned red suddenly and pulled away from you, looking down at his lap as you got to your feet and removed his hat, setting it down on a nearby trunk. You noticed he went quiet but decided not to say anything as you looked for some kind of sleep clothes for him, or did he just sleep in his everyday clothes? When you looked back over at him he was struggling to remove his shirt. You sighed and went to help him get free of it. When you saw his face again, he looked away once more.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as you knelt in front of him to help take his boots off. You didn’t trust him to do it himself, afraid he’d topple over and hit his head. 

“I never… with… with anyone before.” He mumbled as he gestured between the two of you. For a solid minute you stared at him as you tried to process what he was thinking, and when it hit you, your face burned as you set his boots aside. “So um…”

“Neither have I, Buggy, but that’s not what I said.” You told him firmly. “I told you it’s time for bed. For you, not me. You need to get some sleep.”

“Canyoustaythenight?” He blurted out. “Please? I don’t… want to be alone.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to wrap your mind around this. You didn’t intend for any of this to happen. You were just going to bring him home before going back to your place to crawl into your bed, but he managed to get you to stay for a drink (that you didn’t finish) and now he wanted you to spend the night. 

He was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his world right then. It was a little hard to say no, but you did want to make sure he would be okay, so you removed your own shoes before putting your hands on your hips. “Where are your pajamas?”

He shrugged as he fell back on his bed, stretching out across it. His entire body separated for a moment before snapping back together and honestly, it was momentarily horrifying to see it all happen at once. You needed him to explain this but not when he was drunk. You sighed and nudged him to get under the blankets, which he did, watching you once more with bright, excited eyes as you got into bed beside him. Almost immediately he wrapped himself around you, resting his head against your chest as he closed his eyes and sighed happily. 

“So nice, so soft, warm.” He mumbled quietly. You took the chance to remove his bandana, pleasantly surprised to see how long his hair was. Why did he keep it all hidden? You ran your fingers through it as he made himself comfortable against you. “I don’t wanna be away from you again, please, ‘msorry.”

“Get some sleep, Buggy.” You told him as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay? No more talking.”

“Imma marry you.” He sighed. You rolled your eyes and wondered what you needed to expect the next morning.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 20)

even when I don’t, I almost do. Because I love you.

—

A/N: You guys i’m actually sobbing while writing this! The last part is here and i’m honestly feeling so many emotions right now. From the first chapter to now seeing how every character as grown just makes my heart absolutely melt ahh. This is the last part but when season 3 comes out who knows, there might be a sequel;) (no promises) !! I love you all sooo much and please enjoy this really long chapter <3

—

There’s not many ways to categorize Susannah. She’s not just a mother figure to me. She’s the beach house on sunny days and all weather accompanied and when I do a lot of things I think about her.

I’ll never forget the day my parents died. I might have been young but it’s one of the first things I remember. John and Laurel running to the house with Steven and Belly in the car, and a confused 6 year old waiting for her parents to get home. Come home to me.

Apparently, therapy sessions are the way to fix someone who was categorized as broken like me. I got taken to countless different therapists but what was I supposed to say? Like ‘yeah i’m pretty sad about my parents dying but i’ll get over it.’

The first summer that went by without my parents, I went to the beach house. I had gone two times before that but this time was truly my first visit. To me it was.

I don’t remember much, but I do remember Susannah. According to her (and laurel) I cried for hours in my room, assuming it was about my parents. Everybody left me alone until my whales became too loud and Susannah couldn’t help but step in.

She walked into my room, not forgetting to shut the door and sat on the edge of my bed. “Yn? Sweetie?”

“Y- yeah?” I covered my tears in hopes that I would just look groggy from a nap but I obviously failed, miserably.

“What’s going on?” She cooed at me while brushing some strands of hair out my face.

“I miss them.. my.. my—”

“I know you do. I’m sorry it had to be this way yn..” I still remembered her voice to this day, in that room. It was so soothing sometimes I requested her to come in and talk to me before bed.

“Can I tell you something yn?”

I nodded weakly, “mhm..”

She held me in her arms while whispering a soft melody in my ear before saying; “This beach house is as much yours as mine. Okay? Your here and apart of us now. Of me.”

I smiled at the thought before falling deep asleep.

I was always close with Susannah after that, as much as I could be. Sometimes summer wasn’t enough.

Now, i’m sobbing all my makeup off into the sheets Susannah picked out for this house. Conrad really was right when he said it— she’s everywhere and everything in this house. Picked out ever wall color and every single piece of furniture.

I used to love to look at the things Susannah did for this house, it reminded me of her. Now- I can’t even look at the walls without crying. Because soon she’ll only be a memory.

Belly’s cries in my ear were more heartbreaking than I could have imagined. Me, Belly, and Laurel were all stuck together on the bed like peas in a pod. Laurel crying was something I never thought I would see and now I wished I hadn’t.

“I just feel so stupid. This whole summer has been about me and Susannah had been dying of cancer.”

I almost wanted to tell Belly not to, not to say it. She had no right. But she did, because she really really was dying. That was the reality of the matter. I can only imagine Jeremiah and Conrad if we’re crying this bad. It breaks my heart.

“That’s how she wanted it though,” Laurel whispers, “One last perfect summer in cousins.”

One last perfect summer. Was this the end? It hit me then, maybe it was the end. Conrad would be going off to college in the fall and me, Jeremiah, and Steven were all going into our senior years. Even Belly was growing. She wasn’t far off from college either.

“It’s just not fair,” I add in, sobbing through my words. “Why does she have to go? It’s.. it’s..”. Horrible. Not fair. So many things that I want to say but my choked cries hold me back.

The door creaks open and a very sad looking Steven creeps into the room. His eyes are draped and tears stained his face. Shakily, he said, “She’s not gonna get better is she?”

When Laurel shakes her had no, my cries come faster as well as Belly’s. Steven runs to the other side of the bed and climbs in next to Laurel, tears dripping on her red dress. He was like a little kid, the way he got into bed and held onto Laurel for dear life, like every child held their mother.

It was just us 3, crying and crying and repeated murmurs of ‘it’s not fair’ and an occasional I love you.

—

Laurel cooking only meant one thing, we were fucked.

It’s no secret Susannah’s cooking has always been a fan favorite of ours, and not Laurel’s.

We all gathered around the table and for the first time this summer we felt like family. True and honest family. Me and Belly had changed from our dresses because Susannah didn’t want us to be uncomfortable, but the boys were still in their tuxes.

Everyone’s eyes were littered with dry tears and everybody was also blood shot red in the eyes. I’d never seen Conrad look so tired and broken, it almost makes me feel horrible for crying so hard.

He still looked good though, really good.

“Okay, guys.” Susannah clears her throat before gently pushing out of her seat, getting our attention.

“I.. I think,” Susannah’s eyes wonder to Jeremiah and Conrad before she speaks. Her face is glowing with a smile only Susannah has. It’s for her boys. Conrad and Jeremiah.

Jeremiah was her sunshine boy, the kind’ve boy that still hugged their mother even though they were probably too old for it. He was good to her. Not that Conrad wasn’t, not at all. It was just different. Conrad affection was deep and hidden but Susannah could pull it out of him. He would do anything for her, absolutely anything even if he hated it.

“I think i’m gonna do the trial.” Conrad and Jeremiah’s face lit up in smiles that I had missed dearly and mine wasn’t too far behind. It might have been a long shot, but it was hope. Hope that things could be okay. It’s no secret things would never be the same again, but if we could be okay, that was good enough for me. For all of us.

“It’s gonna work, mom.” Jeremiah says with pleading eyes and my heart can’t help but melt at the sight. He always had so much hope that things would work out, and as much as I wanted to believe him, I knew it all to well. I didn’t wanna think about it, though. Because loosing Susannah would be like loosing my parents all over again, but worse. I know Susannah, more than I ever knew them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Susannah grabs Laurel’s hand and squeezes it tight, “You all ate here. It’s the best thing I could ever ask for.”

And with that, we ate.

For the first time since the news came out, laughter filled this table. It filled our lungs and our hearts and I never missed Jeremiah and Stevens jokes. Conrad even threw one in occasionally.

This was good. We were gonna be okay.

Dinner came and went and it was late by the time we finished, but I was up like a hawk. At 11 o’click the house started winding down and yawns were heard.

I walked into the kitchen to grab my phone, only to see Jeremiah sitting at the counter. I knew I needed to talk to him. It was a long time coming.

“Hey..” I say quietly, but it was loud enough for him to hear me.

He smiles lightheartedly, “Hey.” I did not want to know if he was angry at me still because it would hurt too much. Jeremiah was amazing at holding grudges, which shouldn’t be a compliment but it sure does drive the other person crazy.

“So,” I tap my fingers across the counter in a state of worry, “Are.. we good?”

A sigh comes from his mouth, and I only can hope he’s not up to fight, because I sure as hell aren’t. “Did you know about Susannah’s cancer? Did Conrad tell you?” Those were the last words I expected to come out his mouth.

He was there, when I asked what was going on. How could he assume I knew? Was he that angry about me and Conrad that he would accuse me of hiding it?

“How could you even think that?” There’s no disgust in my voice, just pure sadness. He was bitter, bitter that he didn’t know. Don’t let him get to you.

“You and Conrad kept a lot of secrets, what’s one more?” Unlike me, his voice is laced with disgust and after the night I had tonight, I would be the last to deal with it.

“Right. Glad to know where you stand.” I spin on my heel but before I can reach the door a shriek comes out of Jeremiah’s mouth.

“I liked you, you know.”

I turn around and look at the boy in front of me with a puzzled face. He liked me? Are you serious?

Where was he when I wanted his attention? I remember the nights I would long for Jeremiah, when I believed Conrad didn’t want me. I might have longed for Jeremiah to try and forget about Conrad, but I still longed for him.

“Don’t do that. You like Belly.”

He shakes his head and my heart begins to accelerate.

“I know you used to like me too.” What was he saying? Assuming? This was crazy. Just fucking crazy and my brain can’t handle any more of this. “I know it was one summer. Conrad and you weren’t talking as much because he was busy with football camp. You got crazy jealous of me talking to Belly. I- I never believed I had a chance with you yn, so I never showed that I cared. But I did.”

It’s true. The summer Conrad was going into Sophomore year his dad had him on a constant grind for football. Make no mistake, I missed him like hell but I did gather some sort of feeling for Jeremiah during that time. It lingered, but as soon as Conrad came it was gone.

None of us were perfect. If Belly had some sort of attraction for both of the boys, would it be so crazy to believe I once did too? Not too long ago?

But it’s always been clear as day, who I loved. Love.

I always believed love would be gray with anyone else but Conrad. He made it golden. Shades of gray hidden in the sunset that would only come out for me, along with my feelings for him.

What was I supposed to say? He wasn’t wrong. I did like him a little bit, even at the beginning of this summer. But it was only because I hid my truth about Conrad. I needed to get away from him and shamefully, Jeremiah was right there.

“If I wouldn’t known- I would’ve maybe—”

“Jeremiah, stop.”

His eyes widen and this is the last thing I want. To cause this poor boy any more drama than what’s been produced. His face turns from hopeful and pleading to knowing. All fucking knowing.

“You love him, don’t you?”

My heart beat slows, and I look Jeremiah dead in the eye, making sure he knows the truth. I want him to know so we can get over this because I need Jeremiah, my buddy. Not a lover.

“I think I almost do.” Is all I can manage to say.

Jeremiah says nothing but only nods in response. It’s quiet for a moment before I begin to tread away, only to be stopped again.

“Just tell me this, if I would’ve confessed, would it had changed anything?”

No. It wouldn’t have.

“It’s been a long day, Jeremiah.” I don’t hear a response as I tread up the stairs.

—

My feet tread on the wooden floors, creaking noises coming every now and then. It was late. Half past 12 and like most nights lately, sleep couldn’t consume me like it used to be able to.

Luckily, I wasn’t alone.

Outside my door, I peered through another to see Susannah sat on her bed. She looked sad, so unlike Susannah. Something compelled me to walk in there.

Susannah was sitting on her bed staring up at the ceiling. It was almost weird— seeing her look so solemn. Like she had come to peace with it.

She smiled at me when I walked in and motioned for me to take the spot next to her on the bed. I did.

“Cant sleep?” She whispers.

I shake my head rapidly, because I can’t. I cant sleep knowing a women like Susannah is being put through this. She’s so pure, so pure in a world of evil.

“I don’t mean to bother you.”

“You could never bother me, special girl.” I already feel the tears coming on my face, and one stray tear dripped. I wiped it quickly.

“I’m so sorry, Susannah.” I sit next to her quickly. Her face turns sad and droopy which was the last thing I intended considering this day already didn’t go as planned. I needed to change the mood. “How.. how is Conrad? Is he okay?”

An all knowing smile reaches Susannah’s face, and I already know what’s coming next. “He’s doing okay. I hated him seeing him cry. I always do.”

That was the truth. I hated seeing Conrad cry too. It had only happened a couple of times, and It would always take me 15 minutes or so to recover from it. The way his eyes cried for help and were bloodshot red, almost like he was begging for someone to save him. I had wanted that for years. To save him and to be engulfed in his arms.

“I hate it too.” I whisper and a choked sob comes out of my mouth. Susannah, being Susannah notices right away. Always putting others above herself.

“He’s loved you since he was 10, you know.” Now it was her turn to speak through a yelp and cry. I broke at the sight. Tears were streaming down both of our faces but I was too delirious to care. “He came up to me, called you so pretty at a young age. You’ve always been his weakness, you know that.”

I shrug, “Things got really complicated Susannah, too quick and too fast.”

“Don’t let him push you away. He loves you. He’s in love with you.” Those words spilled all over me like a warm shower. Lathering me in love and affection, all by the man Conrad Fisher.

Susannah holds my arm, rubbing my thumb gently, “Do.. do you love him too?”

I don’t even wait, I just nod. Nod and nod until my head feels like it’s hurting because I do. I really do. He’s everything to me. It’s not often you find your lover and best friend in one.

He really is my everything. My Conrad.

“Yes.”

Susannah pulls me in and now i’m sobbing against her chest. Who cares if the house hears? This women is dying in front of me and i’ll i’ve done this whole summer is be consumed in my own drama. Belly was right, even if we didn’t know it we were selfish.

“I’m so sorry, I was so— selfish.”

I feel Susannah move her head against me. “No, no. This is how I wanted it. I wanted it to be about you girls. And the guys. I wanted all the petty fights and talk about boys because that’s what summer is to you guys. A time to just be.”

She was right. Summer was intertwined with everything good in my life. Conrad, Susannah, Jeremiah, and the rest of my family. From running on the beach at 7 and playing with the football and attempting to crash the boys plans with Belly at night. It was all so good. So right.

Susannah pulls me out of her chest and tucks a hair behind my ear, “Yn. I know this hasn’t always been easy. But your here now, okay? One day, when I’m gone—" I go to fight her but she shakes her head, silencing me. “When i’m gone, it’s up to you and Belly to keep the magic going. If anyone can, it’s you two.”

I hoped and prayed. I really did.

“Your my special girl, yn.”

We hugged for what felt like hours, crying and holding each other. Around 1am, I crept into bed, sobs occasionally catching my lips every now and then. My heavy eyes slowly found it’s way into some sort of sleep.

—

The tide was low in the morning.

I wouldn’t exactly call it sleep, what I got. More like an hour or so of being in this dream state. Where susannah was okay and wasn’t dying and that we would be coming to cousins like normal. Every summer.

He was there. In his suit still looking like a work of art. Straight out of a Taylor Swift love song (wildest dreams, to be exact. I would always rant to Frankie about how that’s his song.)

His hair was sloppy in the wind and his shirt was all wrinkled. That’s the thing about Conrad though. Even in the worst of times, he still looks beautiful. His blue irises don’t shine the same blue that Jeremiah’s does.

Conrad is dark. Dark dark dark and some more. Jeremiah’s blue ocean eyes hold some sense of purity to them. I could even get lost in them. They’re so bright with purpose. When I looked into Conrad’s eyes, the blue was different. So confusing and at times I feel like one day it’ll devour me.

He was a deep guy, Conrad. Something Jeremiah would never be, even if he tried his hardest to mold that personality of his. I could sit for hours and talk about the meaning of life with Conrad and he would sit and stare, maybe adding in his thoughts. Jeremiah would go on his phone within minutes.

It wasn’t a bad thing, that Jeremiah didn’t do that. He wasn’t Conrad, he shouldn’t have to be. But even If I tried to tell him that it would be too late, the complex already set so horribly in. No matter what anyone does it’ll be ingrained in him. I just hoped it wouldn’t consume him.

I plopped down next to him, digging my feet into the sand from how nervous I was. I didn’t know what he was gonna say to me.

There was a small gap between us, one that was definable but not to an extent. Conrad played with his fingers and for a moment it was just pure silence.

I liked the waves. They were calming.

“I can’t believe she said yes.” Conrad words are vibrant, more than they had been this entire summer. His face twisted into a smile and my heart melted at the sight.

I awkwardly look down towards the sand and make a little heart in it. “I mean- it’s all thanks to you. You changed her mind, Conrad.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, it was Jere. Not me.”

I gulp down the words that itch to come out of my throat, so many things I want to say. Where do I start? I’ve been in love with you since I was 10 years old. It’s only been you? Even when my heart tried to make me believe it was Jeremiah or possibly Josh, it was always you. How do I tell him that after everything?”

The silence became noticeable because he twisted his lips like he always does when he feels guilty or is out of words to say, to fill the void.

“I’m sorry for being so shitty, this entire summer.”

“I mean.. you were going through this all alone. I- it couldn’t have been easy..” I try and reason for him because I do feel horrible. It doesn’t excuse anything, but it makes it all just sorta make sense.

“Doesn’t make it right. Not for you, at least.”

His tone conveys something much more intimate than either of us are ready to take on right now. I get up off the sand, Conrad following my actions suit.

“Conrad… you- you really need someone right now and I just.. can’t be the person you fall on. Not after everything.” By everything, the love i’ve held for this boy. All the years and lies and the time we even had sex, it’s all too much. He’s either in or out, I can’t climb over and pull him half way. That’s on him.

“I need you.”

I shake my head again, “No. No more needing.” Want. I want him to want me. He reads my mind before tucking a strand behind my face.

“I want you. You know that.”

“How?” I whisper.

“Because I love you. I’ve been in love with you since I was 12. I- I don’t know when it happened, but one day it just came to me. I can’t shake it since. Maybe it was always there.”

Conrad fucking Fisher, pouring his heart out was not to go unnoticed. Rare were the times he showed emotion, and for anyone to take it to granted was crazy.

“And you think I haven’t?” My whisper is almost like a cry. Hadn’t it been so obvious? I loved this boy with every fiber in my body. My heart called to him. He was better than Noah from the notebook and better than Rhett. He was Conrad.

“I know you have. But I do too, I really do.”

Conrad’s fingers graze my cheek and I look up into his impossibly blue eyes. He flinches a little before moving in closer to me. My eyes linger to his lips and his does the same.

When our lips touch, I could’ve cried from the feeling. It was much different than any other time. It wasn’t needy or so heart gripping I didn’t think I would survive it, it was calm.

His hands cupped my face and we pull away for a brief moment. I don’t miss the smile he gives me before pulling me in for another one. I wrap my arms around his waist and he’s really making all the moves. Eventually I find myself playing with the backs of his hairs.

When we pull away, he still holds me, almost afraid to let go. A small laugh escapes my lips.

“What?” He says so softly yet amused.

“Nothing, I just…” Everything.

“I can’t believe your really here.”

—

Leaving cousins was always the worst. The packing, looking at the house once last time before returning for 9 months. This time as different though.

Fall comes round always too quick for my liking, almost like the seasons trying to rid out memories of summer. But summer was intertwined in all of our memories like a cord. Nothing would sever that.

Steven was an early acceptance into Princeton. After all of his hard work, Steven accomplished his 4 year old dream of walking down the school halls shouting that he got into Princeton.

Belly was doing good. Her grades were always subpar like mine which was something we always bonded about. Always lifting each other up when Steven drowns us with his smart antics.

And me? I’m currently sat in my car parked in the parking lot for Brown.

Conrad told me he’d meet me by these benches that he sent me a picture of, so I guess I would have to gauge off of that.

Once I got out of the car, I grabbed my bag of necessities while closing the door and locking the car. I smiled to myself and for a moment I was lost. Just fucking lost.

I can’t believe you’re really here.

Those words clung with me like the dust hangs to my shirt. That day is forever ingrained in my memory. I’ll never forget that moment, no matter what happens. It was almost like a promise, that this was really the beginning.

I began to walk through the crowd of people, searching aimlessly. I would spot him out in a heartbeat, but there were a shit ton of people.

That’s when I saw him, in this cute little stripped polo top, looks down at his phone. I’m guessing it was to text me but the excitement that fills my body is blocking off all of my conscious.

When he looks up, the biggest fucking smile covers his face. I start walking towards him and drop my bags, running into his arms.

“You’re here.” He mumbles into my shoulder. He was feeling me, I understand why. I had to touch his hairs to make sure he’s real too. But he his.

“Yeah, i’m here.”

Conrad takes my bag like the gentlemen he is, and the whole walk to his room he’s staring at me. I meet his eyes occasionally but look away for the most part.

Once we get to his room, I can’t help but notice how neat his side is compared to his roommates, Trusky. He wasn’t here, but It was obvious to tell who’s sides who.

“I was thinking we could maybe go for lunch or something?” Conrad places my bag down and then kicks his foot lightly against the wood of his desk. He looked like a little kid asking for a cookie.

“Whatever you want.” I say with a innocence to my voice.

Conrad smirks and I shut the door behind us. When I turn around, Conrad wraps his arms around me and spins me around lightly. I can’t help the giggle that emerges.

Conrad throws me on the bed right before laying down next to me. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too.” The glimmer in both of our eyes is something I would carry with me. The hope, the want. I knew this was our start, just the very first page. A sea of blue was conjuring in his eyes, and I was about to be sucked into it.

Instead of going to lunch, me and Conrad lost track of time and talked and kissed and did some more talking. It was refreshing.

“How’s Belly?” Conrad asks me.

I shrug, “She’s good. I mean, we’re good. I think her and Jere have been talking a lot.” Conrad raises his eyebrows and licks his lips. “You know what? I swore I heard them talking when I came over to the house last weekend.”

I smirk, “I think she’s happy.”

“He is too.”

The second me and Conrad got together, I told him about what Jeremiah said to me. He had told me not to worry and that Jeremiah was just being emotional.

But seeing Jeremiah so happy, it makes me happy. Belly, too. I think it warms us all a bit that we can all just, be.

“I talked to your mom the other day.”

A radiant smile, only that he shares for Susannah peaks through cracks of Conrad’s mouth. “Ah, really? What’d she say?”

“Said shes doing good. Also said your a fucking goofball.”

“Fuck you!” Conrad smacks my forehead lightly, always making sure not to legitimately hurt me. I loved that about him. “Hey, I have an idea.”

“What?”

I can’t believe this man.

When Conrad said he knew a place, I didn’t really know what he was talking about. I just went with the flow.

Only Conrad fucking Fisher would take me stargazing. That part of my heart was left for him. Only for him. He places a blanket on the grass and motions me to sit down with him.

It was a deserted little place, 20 minutes away from the campus. It was cozy.

I lay down next to Conrad and a small breeze hits me, making me shiver. Conrad wraps his arms around me almost instinctively, placing a kiss on top of my forehead.

“This is nice.” I breathe out.

“mhm.” Conrad hums and every now and then he places kisses on my cheeks and lips. I don’t stop him.

“I love you.” He mumbles in between kisses and eventually the kisses become more needy, more wanting. I felt the deja vu running through my veins.

Conrad slips a hand under my shirt and I pull away quickly. His face turns a crimson shade of red that even I can see in the night, “Fuck— I’m sorry—”

“No, no.” I place my hands on his shoulder. “I just uh—you’re the only.. my um.”

“Oh.” Conrad nods his head in understanding.

“I just, promise me it won’t be like last time?” Even though i knew this was clearly different, I don’t know if I’d ever be able to forget that night. It’s ingrained in my head, everything. Every move, motion, the way his hands curved my body, everything.

“I promise.” I smile and my hands slip under his shirt, slowly taking it off. His body was good, really good. Conrad always was beautiful but in the night was when I found him most enchanting. The way his jaw was extra defined and how his hair fell down.

Conrad is slow to pull my top off, and he stares at me in the thick of the night. “You’re beautiful.”

“Your stuttering, Fisher, have you lost you’re touch?”

“Oh your in for it now.” Conrad leans down and kisses me neck, inching down to my collar bone and a soft moan escapes my lips.

This was beautiful, he was beautiful.

My childhood best-friend, my Conrad.

I’d love him forever, every single part of him. I’ve laughed, Cried, hell, i’ve done so many things for him. But this is the beginning, I know it is.

I lean down to look at the infinity necklace hanging off of my chest, which Conrad has traced circles around. It’s true, I would go endlessly around those curves for him.

I hit myself thinking about how badly i wanted to forget him, but this summer only made me remember him.

Conrad Fisher.

—

THATS IT YALLLL!! I’m crying rn this story means so much to meeee :)) I can’t say it’s fully over because who knows what the future holds (thanks for the quote belly) But i love you all so much and I hope to have more projects soon! Also love that cheesy ass ending 🫶🏻

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely @allnrsnz @galaxy13sworld @paytonloiselle @i-think-you-are-gr8 @imaspecialpersonwhoneedshelp @awatt31 @user0440822 @jackierose902109 @chocolatefartstrawberry @whoisjellyellie @apollo3475 @watercolorskyy

(tag list never works ugh)

#the summer i turned pretty #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher #team conrad #belly conklin #conrad x reader #team jeremiah #tsitp #love #summer love #Spotify

[forevercillianmurphy]

im sorry, tommy shelby.

- warnings: death, swearing, violence.

- word count: 3.7k

- my own timeline since I haven’t watched past season 2 lol

- Tommy x oc sister !

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rebecca was born on a cloudy day some December 1902, twelve years after the head of the family; thomas shelby was born. ever since that day (and finn's birth) he promised not only himself but his family that he'd take care of them. they were the most important thing in his life, and after the war that never changed. though, it grew harder with the night terrors and feeling as if the two had a bounty on their heads every time they stepped out into good ole birmingham. though, the family never once made it seem that way. the two younglings thought nothing much of it really, thinking that that was how everybody else lived. always having people following them around for protection especially if arthur, john or tommy could not be there. so when rebecca turned 20 in 1922, she did not understand why she couldn't come 'out' to society, like everybody else her age. she did not realize how dangerous it was. because again, her and finn had lived in a bubble; something that polly made sure of.

˚ · .·˚

the very night she returned home from school that spring, rebecca was fuming, teeth seething and hair falling out of her braided bun, "why on earth can i not take part in the event tom! how else am i supposed to be seen as an adult and not a child?" she demanded, hands on her hips. tommy had watched his youngest sister scream and shout, pull at her hair for the better part of the hour. once she had realized her name wasn't on the list of the debutant ball, she quickly came home to give a piece of her mind to the head of the family. he said nothing, just watching. she stopped her frantic movements, turned back towards tom and shrugged. she was simply giving up, something that she never did. because she was a shelby, fighting till the very last second. tom saw the defeatedness wash over her like a waterfall, and then saw the tears forming in her eyes. oh how he hated to see her or finn cry, especially at the expense of him. she shook her head, knowing he was about to stand up or say something, and she put her hand up. "you don't want me out there, fine. but just know that i will resent you for the rest of my life as i go leave for university this upcoming fall." she paused beginning to walk out. she took one last look at him, "and just know that i wont come back to this shitty hell hole." and with that she left. tom sat there for a few minutes finishing his whisky and freshly lit cigarette. he sighed, looking up at the ceiling knowing that polly was going to be giving him an earful right about - now.

"thomas michael shelby, what the hell is wrong with you?" she quipped, slamming his office door and shaking his now iced glass. "pol-" she cut him off, "don't poll me, boy." she stated promptly and he knew to shut up. "your sister is this close, this close!" she said emphasizing with her fingers. "to slipping away, and do you really want that? really want that boy?" she seethed, "i don't care what you have to say thomas but she is going to that ball whether you like it or not." she said standing her ground, and he knew it was golden. one to be left untouched. he sighed, "but its dangerous." he stated and she shook her head. "if its so dangerous, find a way to make it not dangerous! you have this whole empire, use it for something good." she stated before walking out. tommy rubbed his eyes, before standing up to go speak to arthur and john, who no doubt would be at the garrison. he knew deep down, he had to let rebecca do this and if he didn't he no longer would have a sister.

˚ · .·˚

rebecca brushed her hair as finn her little brother by 7 years, went on and on about his day at school. she giggled at naiveness and plain stupidness him and his little friends possessed. yet she adored it, and how they still saw life in the most purest form. rebecca on the other hand, her world slowly began cracking a year ago. she accidently walked into the garrison during a 'family meeting' that was in the back and therefore they hadn't heard her. then as they believed her to be sleeping, she heard more speaking and whispers late one night. the world she once saw was not what she saw now. she realized how dark, cruel and unforgiving it could be. so it came to no surprise when her name was not on the damn list but a huge part of her wish it had been. she wanted to be like every other university girl in this town, but she was afraid she'd never be. "alright fi, time to get to bed." she smiled turning around in her vanity chair. fi was a little nickname she gave to him one cold night during the war and it had stuck between the two since. "i don't want to." he huffed, crossing his arms. "you have to, it is quite late. don't let our big scary brother find out i let you stay up past your bedtime." she grinned, running over and tickling him. finn's laugh filled up the room, alerting the whole house he was still awake. francis smiled as she tidied up the kitchen. tommy stirred in his cat nap, feeling a ginormous headache coming on. but as he listened to the laughter and shrieks coming from upstairs his heart softened. his cold and locked heart, always swelled just a bit more when he heard finn's laugh. a contagious one at that.

rebecca shooed the boy after a minute, and wrapped her arms around the almost 13 year old boy. "i cant believe you're going to be 13 in a few days." she hummed, and he started to squirm in her arms. "oi don't become a teenager just yet." she giggled, and he stopped fidgeting. the two sat on her bed for a few minutes more before deciding it was time to get him to bed, "come on love, time to go to sleep." she said letting him get off of her lap. he yawned, and she grinned knowing full well he'd been trying to hide his exhaustion so the two could stay up just a bit more to talk. rebecca was truly all finn knew, he was only 8 when the boys went off to war and when they came back it was a shell of what they had been. rebecca cared for him like he was her own for as long as she could remember. just as tommy thought of her and finn as his own, sometimes. "come on." she whispered, taking ahold of his hand and walking towards the conjoined rooms that were separated by a thin wall and door.

tommy heard from his office the fight that finn was putting up and then it stopped, and he smiled softly knowing his exhaustion finally won. he'd always have trouble getting finn to sleep especially when everybody was over but rebecca - becs - always had a way with him. she was soft, kind, heart warming and gave the best hugs in the world. oh, and a cookie here and there. he looked at the grandfather clock in his office and decided it was late enough, and that he'd finish everything in the morning. he slowly walked upstairs, saying goodnight to francis and he stopped without knowing in front of rebecca's door. he heard her mingling about, getting ready for the next morning and trying to find her one book she'd hid without realizing. he knocked softly on her door, and she knew who it was. she walked over to her door, and opened it to reveal and tired and somewhat bothered tom shelby. she rolled her eyes, and walked towards her bed. he took that as a cue to walk in, and she faced him once she sat on her bed. she sat pretzel style, waiting for him to speak.

"becs, there are things-" she cut him off, "cut the bullshit tom. i don't want excuses." she said coldly and his eyebrows knit together in confusion and then in understanding. "you know?" he asked almost in disbelief and she rolled her eyes again, nodding. "when?" he asked, trying to figure out when she'd heard things. "the garrison last September, right before university started. then again over winter break, here at the house. and then last week when i woke up from a nap." she explained and he stood there processing it. "i know you've tried to keep me and finn safe but tommy." she paused, and he looked up at the nickname. "you cant keep my cooped up here forever. i cant live like this nor will you be able to when I've turned this house upside down." she said a bit lightheartedly. he grinned, "its not like you haven't don't that already." and she smirked. "i am the only female in this bloodline, it was to be expected." she smiled, a genuine smile. "and the only blonde and blue eyed one." he said and she pointed at him, in agreement. he looked down, and thoughts plagued his mind. "tommy...i need to do this. you need to let me do this, i cant stay in birmingham forever. i want a life outside of this place, i dream of faraway places. i dream of chicago or los angeles, i dream of a air so clean it hurts. i dream of a place where i don't fear to step out of my house, where i can be who i want to be, wild and free." she paused as tommy looked up. "i want the fairytales mum used to say and the one's aunt pol spoke about...i want my prince charming far, far away from here. you-you need to let me go tommy. or ill never escape this thing- this place." she said saying the words he'd longed to hear. just not the america part.

"okay." he simply stated, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "ok-ay?" she questioned, and he nodded. "okay." he repeated. she felt her heart flutter and butterflies grow with excitement. she jumped off the bed, and threw her arms around the usually stone cold brother. he froze for a second before chuckling, and wrapped his arms around his baby sister. "thankyou thankyou." she said genuinely, feeling as if she was on top of the world. until she wouldn't be.

˚ · .·˚

rebecca walked down the stairs to find michael and aunt polly waiting for her, at the bottom. because her brothers were out of the age frame, it was determined that michael would 'send her off' and accompany her that evening. she smiled at michael who truly was her brother, as the two had stuck with one another during the war. and being so close with aunt polly, cemented it further. finn shouted from the top steps as michael was about to walk out with her. "becca wait!" he screamed, and she turned around to see her kid brother rushing to hand her a single rose. she knew exactly where he got it from, mrs.hanovers front garden two blocks over. "oh bubba, thankyou." she smiled hugging him. "i hope you have a good time tonight, and break a lot of hearts." he joked and she giggled nodding. "i love you, don't forget that." finn said pulling her in one last time. she smiled, "i love you too fi." she said before kissing his cheek and michael retook her arm. he hooked his other arm on pollys and the three left finn with franics.

the shelby boys and their partners were already at the grand hall, polly walking in shortly before rebecca and michael would walk in after being announced. he looked down at his cousin who practically was his sister at this point, and he saw the nerves beginning to seep over. she could not shake the feeling of dread, and one of fear. she had woken up during the night in a terror, finn quickly running over to check on her. he'd found her in a cold sweat, heart and mind racing. he held her as she shook, not understanding what her mind was fighting. thoughts so unfathomable for her, and one's that would not be dared to be spoken. michael rubbed her arm, and that comforted the blonde. "thankyou michael again, for doing this." she smiled up at her younger cousin - by only a year he liked to joke. he nodded kissing her temple, and she held on tightly to the rose finn had given her.

polly on the other side of the curtain found the boys and their partners, nodding to tommy who stood just a little taller. grace at his side, smiled softly knowing polly had settled his nerves just a bit. the crowd turned their attention toward the debutants and their partners. the crowd gushed, oohed and ahhed over the affair. it was now rebecca's turn, and she felt butterflies flooding her body. michael winked at her and then they walked out. rebecca's champagne-colored dress dazzled the crowd, her blue stone necklace glinting just a tiny bit in the light. rebecca amelia shelby, the girl who shall not be named was finally being seen by many. the shelby girl kept in the shadows for most of her life, raised by her kid brother and so called addicted aunt, had barely seen the light of day for school. let alone, the slum of birmingham. she smiled widely as the crowd clapped for her like they did for every other young lady tonight. michael walked her over towards the family as he had spotted them rather quickly, while rebecca was lost in her own world. they turned towards the family, as the crowd murmured about the young girl. she would not be forgotten, not now and not ever.

they walked up to the group and john quickly hugged rebecca, then arthur and then tommy who only nodded at her. oh for the love of appearances, rebecca silently cursed. aunt polly gushed about her dress and entrance, to which grace and esme agreed. rebecca thanked the women and turned around to look at the two debutants who had just been introduced. she politely clapped, and quickly found her best friend, olivia who Michael had become quite fond of. "please excuse me." rebecca said to the group before walking over to her and brother. "if it isn't miss beauty-" olivia started, "miss grace-" rebecca giggled. the two had recently become quite fond over america and the idea of the west, and what it could possess. their interest peaked when they saw there was a miss america pagenet and olivia was smitten. "miss united states." olivia whispered the last part causing rebecca to laugh loudly. "so did you tell him?" olivia questioned, eyeing tommy who was also eyeing the two. rebecca shrugged, "you didn't tell him?" olivia eyes went wide. rebecca shook her head, "its not like you haven't talked about since the very day you turned 18 and we were roommates." olivia said as a matter of factly. rebecca sighed, "its not that easy you know him, you know them. they'll never let me go. besides i told him about it awhile ago but i know he hates the idea of me in chicago or los angeles without them." rebecca stated and olivia rolled her eyes. "if i didn't love you as much as a sister, i'd march right up to him and go ballistic. y'know that?" olivia smirked and rebecca nodded. she'd been keeping her best friend at bay for months now.

"besides i just got archie to come with us when we do hit the west." olivia said cheekily and rebecca's eyes went wide. it was true, rebecca was smitten the older boy of two years. she had been for years, and olivia loved to tease her about it. "he's going?" rebecca in a whisper and olivia nodded, "he said he couldn't let his little sister fend for herself without him." and rebecca laughed loudly and boldly at this. arthur and john looked over along with tommy who'd been eyeing her the whole conversation. "see shes having a great time, tommy boy." arthur said clapping a hand on his shoulder. to which, tommy shoved off.

"maybe ill have to get michael to come with or at least visit us until you see how madly in love he is with you." rebecca giggled like a little girl. "rebecca amelia." olivia prompted, and rebecca clicked her tongue. "you twisted girl." olivia said sipping her champagne fluke, and archie gave one to rebecca. she smiled at him and thanked the hazel eyed boy who smiled back at her. "whos the rose from?" olivia asked and rebecca smiled, "finn." she said and olivia gushed. "that's so cute where'd he steal it from?" she teased and rebecca laughed. "mrs hanouver two blocks east." and olivia gasped, "that little grifter." olivia said about finn, and rebecca rolled her eyes. she looked back to see her family dispersing just a bit, while tommy and grace stood in the same place talking to another older couple. "i should head back, but i will see you later...at the after party?" she whispered the last part, and olivia smirked. "don't you know it." she smirked, and then rebecca turned towards archie. "as always it is a pleasure." he smiled, taking her hand in his and kissing it. her cheeks turned crimson and she let it fall to her side before turning around and walking towards tommy and grace. he turned towards her, as she walked up to them. he stopped the conversation short, and grace went to go find polly. tommy gave his sister his full attention, and she smiled. "see? that wasn't so bad." she teased, taking his outstretched arm. he chuckled, knowing that the threat of life was not over and done for the evening.

"so what do you think of the idea of a trip out west this winter?" she said gaging his response. "i heard al capone is a great guy." she teased and he chuckled briefly. he'd been in contact with guys in new york and new jersey and knew just how great of a guy he was. somebody just like tommy but even worse. "tell me why you know who capone is?" he questioned softly and she shrugged, and tommy rolled his eyes now. "oi! don't be rolling your eyes at me." she playfully joked and tommy could not help but crack a little bit more. he just laughed, as the crowd began to disperse into the bigger ballroom to have dinner and have some dancing. tommy and rebecca stood their for a brief moment, looking at one another. he pulled a piece of stray blonde hair behind her ear and questioned softly, "when did you grow up?" and she blushed. "i did a long time ago tommy..you just didn't want to notice." she smiled softly. despite all of the rules and regulations he imposed on her once he came back from the war, she wouldn't have had it any other way. the amount of nights in she received with finn from tommy, and her brothers were ones she was going to cherish. "tommy." she said just as he was about to take another step towards the grander ballroom. he looked back and saw nerves and anxiety plagueing her features. he tried searching her eyes but came up short, "i wanted to let you know that i wasn't joking when i was talking about going west." she began and he felt her slipping, slipping from his fingers. "i am going west once i graduate this spring, olivia and i will be going together." she said not sure of his response. but she never got it. as soon as tommy opened his mouth, he looked forward and saw the commotion that he had worried about. an italian mobster outstretched his hand with a silver weapon, pointing it at tommy. for it to only hit rebecca instead as arthur pushed him over.

chaos rose throughout the hall, as tommy screamed. rebecca fell in his arms as he had tried to push her back behind him. her champagne dress now crimson red. she looked up at tommy, as he cradled her in his arms. she could not hear a thing, as she looked up at him. as he yelled for an ambulance, for somebody to help. she pulled his face to look towards her's, eyes swelling with tears in her blue eyes. she knew these were her last moments, and she did not want them to be filled with the ceiling but on somebody she loved. could of been arthur, michael, finn- anybody. her hand finally unclutched the single rose as polly kneeled down. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry!" tommy cried looking down at rebecca. he cried, as she was losing her grasp on this world. arthur was the first one to look back at his sister, then john and then michael. it was as if time was frozen, as the four men in her life watched her breathing her last few breathes. "im sorry." tommy whispered again, words spitting with salty tears. rebecca shook her head, "you did-did everything you thought was right. i-i-i could never fault you for that tommy." she said slowly and brokenly. "i love you so much, tommy." she cried out, and that made tommy cry even harder. "i love you too, blondie." he sobbed. arthur fell to his knees, as rebecca slowly took one last breathe; fighting gravity as her chest weighed down. once tommy realized she'd stop breathing, he lost it. his sister was not supposed to leave this world at the hands of his doings. she was supposed to live a long beautiful life somewhere far away from here, with her two kids, dog and husband she'd long to have. she was supposed to get out of this place and never look back. she was never meant to have her demise be here in birmingham.

tommy cluthed his sister's lifeless body as his world was breaking. polly clung to michael who'd now kneeled beside her. arthur sobbed face down and john grabbed ahold of olivia as she tried to see where her best friend was.

rebecca amelia shelby, the long lost daughter of the shelby clan, the one who shall not be named would be named forever in this town of birmingham.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

oh my goodness!!!!! i hope you all enjoyed, and if you did so please like, comment and repost-- i will love u forever xx

also not me playing the titanic suite medley and crying at the end lol

#tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #peaky blinders #John shelby #Tommy Shelby x oc #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders x sister!reader #Michael gray #polly gray #aunt polly #cillian muprhy #finn cole #I have no idea what to tag now lol

[celandeline]

Summer of Like // Farleigh Start x OC (20)

Someone is shouting in the hallway.

I wake up slowly - so it takes me a while to place what’s happening. The voices are distant, drifting through the walls of the house and finding my ears. Distant, but not quiet - someone is very angry - maybe two people. It’s hard to tell. 

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I slip out of bed and put on a little more clothing - a big tee shirt that Venetia stole from Felix that somehow ended up in my bedroom, and my easiest shoes. I open my door quietly, and step out into the hall. Venetia’s door hangs open - she’s already up, no doubt roused by the noise too. I follow it down the hall, trying to get the words to catch in my ears. 

At the end of the hall, Felix and Venetia are stood at the top of the stairs, looking down the spiral at the commotion. The voices are much clearer out here, but it still takes me a moment to recognize Elspeth - I’ve never heard her yell before. 

I sidle up to Venetia, and make room for Oliver as he comes out of his room as well, squeezing between me and Felix. 

I peer down the spiral to see Elspeth and Duncan marching Farleigh down the stairs. He’s obviously distraught, taking the stairs slowly so that he can keep turning around to face Elspeth. His voice is strained - angry and anxious at the same time - and a pang echoes in my chest when he speaks. “But why would I do this?” He pleads, turning to look at Elspeth again.

Tipping my head towards Venetia, I whisper. “What’s going on?”

“Farleigh tried to nick something.” She says, sounding more excited than sympathetic. 

Tried to steal what? Why? Well - I guess I could understand why, he did seem tired of asking for everything, but to just outright steal something is dumb. Too dumb for Farleigh to even consider as an option. He’s not stupid - I know that he’s not stupid, I’ve seen it for myself. And it’s only been maybe six hours since he left my room - surely that’s not enough time for anyone to realize something is missing. These people have so many things, there’s no way they keep track of everything. 

It must have been something important then. But that sounds like Farleigh even less - if he was going to steal something, it would be something small, but still something he could sell. He would never take something big enough to be noticeable. 

“What are you talking about?” Felix whispers, leaning over the banister to look over at us. 

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Venetia says, almost laughing, angry. 

But he’s not. He isn’t an idiot, which is why none of this makes sense. I don’t think he would steal something - but I’ve also only known him for the roughly two months that I’ve been here. I don’t think he would steal something - but I can’t really know. 

Next to me, Oliver looks at Felix. “What was it?”

Felix just shrugs, his gaze fixed on Farleigh below us. 

Farleigh’s fully turned around now, stumbling down the stairs backwards, sounding more and more distressed the more steps he takes. “Please, please, Elspeth-”

Duncan just grips his shoulder as they reach the bottom of the spiral, forcing him around. “Move.”

I watch as they disappear from view. It isn’t until Venetia tugs my arm that I realize that Elspeth’s turned her gaze towards us. We all scurry away from the railing, pretending that we weren’t looking. 

Felix pushes his hair away from his forehead with a sigh. “Fuck.”

Oliver chimes in again. “What’d he take?”

“Dunno.” Felix says, looking to Venetia. 

“I’ll figure it out.” She says, taking a few steps away from the banister. “I’m going to get dressed for breakfast.” She pads back down the hall, towards her room. “Evie?”

“Yeah.” I say, retreating after her. I feel dazed - a combination of the sleep still lingering in the corners of my mind and the impossibility of making sense of everything that just happened. I keep turning it over in my mind, trying to fit this new piece into the puzzle of Farleigh that I’ve been constructing. But it just doesn’t fit. 

Venetia lingers in the door to her room, an unreadable expression on her face. “I can’t believe him.” She says. 

I stop in the door of my room. “Me neither.” I say. I get the feeling that we mean it in different ways. 

She sighs, leaning against the doorframe. “Will you braid my hair?”

“‘Course.” I say. “Just lemme get dressed first.” 

“Cool.” She grins. 

I close the door of my room, and go through the motions of getting dressed, exchanging my pajamas for the clothes of the day. I put on my bikini first, using it as underwear under my day-wear - something I picked up from Venetia, given how often we sunbathe and swim. It’s easier than having to run back to the house and change every time. 

I have no idea what happened last night. I do, of course, of course I do - my lips are still tingling from the kiss - but at the same time I don’t. There’s a chunk of time where anything could have happened, and I’d have no idea. And I’m not able to ask him, because he’s gone - one thing I’ve learned about the Cattons is that underneath their kindness, they are unforgiving. I doubt I will ever see Farleigh again. 

How silly I was to wait. But at least I got to kiss him goodbye. 

&lt; previous part | next part >

#farleigh start x oc #farleigh start x reader #saltburn #farleigh start #farleigh x reader #saltburn x reader

[foxymoxynoona]

After the Applause (Ch. 6)

Header and linebreaks by @awrkives

Single Dad Jimin x Female OC

SUMMARY: Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

CW/tags: grief, prior loss of spouse/parent, comfort, explicit sex, secondhand embarrassment, sort of love triangle/web/rat's nest, fluff, cursing, dating apps, fuckboy friends, dancer Jimin, stubborn dad Jimin, stubborn pre-teen daughter, miscommunication, pining

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Hanbyul stared at the website confirmation page and felt certain she’d fucked something up. She hated this feeling, like she’d done something wrong. She’d probably attached the wrong thing, or missed some egregious typo, or maybe she sounded annoying in the cover letter. Maybe her headshot wasn’t actually a good likeness.

Thank you for submitting your resume and application. One of our recruiters will be in touch with you shortly.

She belatedly felt stupid to have done this on a Friday afternoon. Now the soonest someone would contact her would be Monday, which gave her at least forty-eight hours to convince herself that applying was the most embarrassing thing she’d ever done and that they were going to laugh at her application and print it out just so they could chuck it in the trash.

Enough of that. She steeled her resolve (to do the thing she had in fact already done) and closed her laptop and crossed her arms in an attempt to look as confident as she wanted to feel. She deserved that job. Some parts were outside of her skillset or experience but most of it was familiar. A man wouldn’t let some pieces hold him back from applying. A man would apply and convince the interviewer why he was still the best candidate for the job, and so that’s exactly what Hanbyul was going to do. 

Because only about 20% of boardrooms in the country consisted of women and while Hanbyul wasn’t applying for a board position, that’s where she was reaching. Someday she was going to get there, and she’d take Sun-young –maybe by then a successful young scientist– out for coffee and say Thank you. Thank you for reminding me that we face extra challenges in the workplace and it’s our responsibility not to hold ourselves back because others will gladly do that for us.

Hanbyul would not be held back! She’d give it her all to get this new position with its better pay and improved benefits. If it didn’t work out, she’d apply for others. She’d call her parents more. She’d clean her apartment this weekend. She’d stop putting Namjoon off and finally have a truthful conversation with him –her responses had been vague and she was certain he could tell. Right now, she could do anything! Even with her trembling hands!

Because a nine-year-old had convinced her she could. Sun-young had inspired her, it was true. Her determination and serious efforts to convince her father that she ought to do science club had shamed Hanbyul into applying because she refused to be a woman who let her childhood confidence fade away. Not that she had ever been as confident as Sun-young, but it wasn’t too late to catch up! She wanted to be the kind of woman Sun-young apparently thought she was.

So she needed to do that other thing, even though she’d been dreading it: she took Hudu on a walk and called Namjoon. 

He picked up on the third ring, a little breathless but cheerful sounding. Not for the first time she wished she could just text him about this but he deserved more than that. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset. Hopefully he wasn’t that invested. He couldn’t be, right?

“Hanbyul? Hey, I was just thinking of messaging you–”

“Hi Namjoon. I, um… I’m sorry, I have sort of disappointing, um…”

“Bad news? Are you ok?”

She cursed how sweet he sounded. The confidence after submitting her resume began to drain away. Why was she doing all these exhausting things in the same day? She had foolishly overestimated herself. 

“I’m ok but… I know I haven’t been very responsive lately and I wanted to just be direct because you’re really great and you deserve that.”

“Ah.”

“I’m really sorry but I’m just…”

There was silence on the line. She appreciated that he seemed to understand without her saying much. Or maybe he was just shocked. Stunned. Heartbroken?! Oh god, she’d never broken anyone’s heart before.

“Look if you’re just really busy right now or something, I get it. I know I’m traveling for work a lot too, so…”

“It’s not that. I mean, I am busy, and I just applied for a better job so maybe I’ll get even busier but–”

“Oh congratulations, I hope it goes well–”

“Aish, don’t be so nice,” she complained. “I feel awful, Namjoon. You’re such a great guy and–”

“You don’t have to do that. I mean you don’t have to comfort me. I mean, it sucks, because you’re… but…”

She tugged Hudu to the side of the path so she could stop and squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t he be an asshole about this? She’d feel so much better. She was aware that she was stupid, that this was stupid, that she was ending what could become something good with a great guy for no reason. Or at least not a good reason. 

“I feel like shit.”

“It’s ok.”

“No, don’t you comfort me!”

“Can I just ask… it’s ok if you don’t feel comfortable, but I just…”

She waited, trying to ignore the way her stomach twisted and her face flushed and the blood rushed in her ears. This was awful. She didn’t have much experience calling things off with men and when she did, the guy had usually seen it coming and not cared that much anyway.

“Did I do something? Is there some… feedback you can give me or…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong at all,” she quickly insisted. And then because she felt too miserable and clung to a piece of driftwood she thought might make it better: “You’re such a great guy. To be honest, I kind of have feelings for someone else and I thought I could get over it but I can’t and you deserve better than that.”

For a moment he was silent again. She could hear his breathing; he always seemed to hold the phone so close to his mouth when he spoke. 

“I get it,” he said. “That really sucks. Sorry you’re in that situation, and I hope he figures it out quick.”

“I don’t think he will but… um… thanks. And I’m really sorry, Namjoon.”

“Don’t be sorry. I had fun.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“And uh, give me a call or something if you’re ever not… not feeling things for someone else, I guess.”

“I will,” she blurted out because she couldn’t think quickly enough on her feet. She ended the call before she could say anything else stupid and pressed it to her forehead. Had that gone well or not well? She couldn’t tell. She supposed it could have been worse… but she felt like she shouldn’t have mentioned having feelings for someone else. What if he somehow figured out she meant Jimin?! And it was a cop out anyway because that wasn’t the only reason. She was emotionally compromised, but she didn’t break off with Namjoon for Jimin. Jimin wasn’t an option! She just didn’t see a future right now with anyone who wasn’t… Jimin.

She felt punchy in a different way now. She practically jogged home with Hudu, which she never did and clearly confused him; he kept looking up at her like he expected someone else might be holding the leash. Once home, she dug through her cabinets looking for anything to soothe or distract but her cupboards were practically bare. Why did she have so many ingredients but no food or alcohol?

It was in this state of desperation that she received a message from Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook: hey re hitting up hongdae club aura and youre coming

Hanbyul: ok I’m in

Jeon Jungkook: wait really???

Hanbyul: did you mean to invite someone else? 😅

Jeon Jungkook: you but you never take me up on it!

Hanbyul: I don’t want to sit at home tonight

Jeon Jungkook: ok ouch didn’t need to make an excuse

Jeon Jungkook: whatever, you can’t bring me down, see you at 10

Hanbyul: TEN?! 

Jeon Jungkook: why are all my friends grandpas? 10 is early! Don’t you bail on me too

Hanbyul: I’ll see you at 10 if you can actually get us in…

Jeon Jungkook: you’re cute, you’ll get us in

Hanbyul laughed. Hard. She knew she ought to be giddy for a man who looked like Jungkook to say that kind of thing, but he said that kind of thing all the time in a way that didn’t actually feel very specific anymore. Only after the date was set did she have a rush of terror realizing she had just agreed to go out clubbing with Jungkook… but it was true that she felt jittery and didn’t want to be home this evening. She felt like she could do anything! Even stay awake until 10pm to go clubbing on a Friday night! 

She had a sneaking suspicion she knew exactly which of Jungkook’s friends had insisted ten was too late at night. Though he’d obviously be the hottest one there, she didn’t think Jimin was into the scene –certainly not in the time she’d known him. She had absolutely no concern that Jimin would be at the club. She also felt like this might be a good chance to really establish a platonic friendship with Jungkook and quiet her slight fear that she was leading Jimin’s close friend on. You know, since she’d already slept with and ghosted then dumped another… 

Her dress was short. It was the shortest dress she owned. She didn’t really own revealing clothing, nothing sexy for hitting the clubs, but she’d bought this dress that was a little too small and so that would have to do. She’d just have to remember not to raise her arms or… disaster! 

She kept tugging it down as she made her way inside with no issue –Jungkook had put her “on the list” and texted her to come on in, which seemed really suspicious. He was easy to find, practically spot-lighted under a round table in a distant corner, animated and laughing with another guy and two girls.

She carried herself bravely forward, nerves instantly frazzled by the loud music, pulsing lights, and close bodies she had to weave her way through to reach them.

“Hey you didn’t bail!” Jungkook cheered when she reached his elbow. “My only true friend.”

The use of friend instantly set her at ease, though she wasn’t prepared for the names lobbied instantly at her amidst their shouts of protest at his remark: Jung Hoseok, Park Andi, and Han Chun. Years and connections were shared and she tried to keep up over the noise of the club, answering the questions as formally as a job interview. She had hoped no one noticed how nervous she was to be out with people she didn’t know, but Jungkook seemed to because he insisted on buying her a drink, which she was overwhelmed into agreeing to. Only when he returned with her cucumber something in hand did she realize there were two men and two women and Jungkook had just bought her a drink and maybe calling her his friend was all part of his plan. Even though that seemed absolutely ridiculous when both those women looked–

Oh. Hanbyul realized she had miscounted. 

“I can’t even count!” she groaned and let her face fall against her hand, not even caring that the slump might smudge her makeup or transfer oil to her chin and give her acne. Who cared what a girl who couldn’t even count looked like!

“Who’s counting? You don’t need to count anything right now,” Jungkook laughed. “You want me to do some math for you?”

“He can’t do math,” Hoseok immediately ratted him out. “Don’t ask him to do math, he just picks a number.”

“That’s not true!”

Andi giggled and leaned in close to agree, “He acts like he’s thinking really hard and then confidently gives a very wrong answer.”

“He doesn’t need math, he’s so pretty,” Chun suggested, though Hanbyul couldn’t tell if her smirk at Jungkook was predatory or just teasing. She didn’t know these people, and clearly her day was beginning to take a toll, so she really shouldn’t have come out. 

“Shut up, don’t blow my cover. Hanbyul’s a smarty, don’t make me look stupid,” Jungkook laughed.

Hoseok nodded and agreed, “I’ve heard about it.”

“About… me?” Hanbyul clarified, tilting her head.

“Neighbor Hanbyul,” Hoseok confirmed, which made more sense, even if it made her a little sad to be still Neighbor Hanbyul. “Sunnie talks about you a lot too.”

“Ahhh that girl.” Hanbyul grinned as a warmth blossomed in her chest. That was better, at least. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

Jungkook’s stare and slow grin made her nervous as he nodded, the others confirming. It was quickly made clear they all knew Jimin and Sun-young –Hoseok was a teacher at Jimin’s studio, Hanbyul was quickly educated on, and Chun and Andi both danced with him and Jimin. When asked if she’d ever seen Jimin dance she admitted that she hadn’t and chose not to disclose her YouTube history. There weren’t many videos on there but there were a few! Anyway, they clearly meant seen him dance live, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“We hear a lot about your son, too,” Hoseok added. Hanbyul, mid-sip of her cucumber something, promptly choked. Jungkook seemed to take great glee in pounding her on the back.

“My what?”

“Hudu?”

“He’s a dog!”

“A dog can be a son!” Hoseok laughed with the rest of the table. He smiled with his whole face and it reminded her so much of Jimin she could almost believe they were related.

“Honestly a dog is the best son,” Andi insisted. “Like, I love Sunnie with my whole heart, but I don’t want kids of my own. I’ve got a cat and I want a dog too but I don’t think I’m tough enough to walk one in the winter.”

“You’re not tough enough,” Jungkook agreed; Andi dipped her fingers into her glass and flicked the droplets his direction.

“I would die for my dog,” Chun announced. “I can never have kids while he’s alive, it wouldn’t be fair to him.”

Hoseok sighed and admitted, “My dog still lives with my parents.”

“It’s their dog,” Jungkook snorted.

“It was my dog but I couldn’t have him with me at university housing when I was younger, and they were all so attached by the time I moved out on my own so– but we could get a dog,” he said, pouting his lips in Jungkook’s direction as if it all came down to his choice.

“I want a dog,” Jungkook agreed.

“Well fuck, let’s get a dog! Woah, but is it a betrayal of Mickey, that’s what I’m worried about…” Hoseok sighed and slumped.

Hanbyul murmured sympathetically and sipped her drink faster. She did not understand what was happening. On the surface she appeared to have joined a group of very fun, down to earth people who just happened to look insanely gorgeous and not of this world in shiny button-up shirts and sequined dresses. It was a complete injustice for these people to be both fun and look like that, and Hanbyul the boring dowager in her plain dress. 

Yet at the same time it made perfect sense because these were Jimin’s friends, and he was like that too! Hanbyul felt utterly stupid for having agreed to come out and yet simultaneously, selfishly fascinated. She felt like Jungkook had opened a door for her that Jimin had not, letting her see this adult social aspect of Jimin’s life –arguably without his permission. Not that he owned these people or anything… but if part of her reason for being here was to learn more about Jimin and get closer to him in that way… fuck, she was a creep! Would she have ever even talked to Jungkook if he wasn’t Jimin’s friend? She doubted herself now. 

“I’m getting another, do you want one?” Andi asked, nudging Hanbyul in a friendly, familiar way that she was flattered to have somehow already earned .She didn’t want another one, but she also did.

“I can buy you something back,” she offered Jungkook before following Andi.

“It’s fine.”

“I insist.”

“Ok, whatever you get.”

“Even if it’s girly?” she checked.

He gave her a horrified look and clarified, “It’s a drink, there’s no gender.”

Hanbyul too was horrified and insisted, “No, I know! But sometimes men are so–”

“I’m just fucking with you. Girly is fine, I don’t discriminate.”

Hanbyul did not know what to make of him, especially since Hoseok was now leaning to the side laughing into the final sips of his beer.

“Forget this, I’m coming too,” Chun decided. “They just want to stand around and drink.”

“We’re going to get more drinks…” Andi pointed out.

“But we can dance on the way and back!”

In that way Hanbyul found herself boxed onto the dance floor for a period of time that could have been ten minutes or an hour, she couldn’t have said. The music was high energy and heavy-bass and she couldn’t tell when one song ended and another began. Her movements felt painfully clumsy next to the graceful way Andi and Chun twisted and swayed. It would be obvious to anyone observing that she was no dancer –but everyone was packed too tightly for anyone to really observe. Hopefully. 

She was glad when it ended, and that relief led her to agree to the round of shots Andi bought. Chun missed her mouth slightly, the rum dribbling down the cleavage of her dress, which Andi dramatically helped her wipe. Then they leaned in close with Hanbyul and scouted out the hotties along the bar, of which they considered there to be very few. 

Hanbyul kept waiting for one of them to ask her something pressing or private –maybe why Jungkook had suddenly invited her along, or why she’d come, or why she thought she should delve further into Jimin’s life when she was just his neighbor– but they didn’t. 

The closest was Chun asking, “What do you think, Hanbyul? Anyone at this bar catch your eye? What’s your type?” But she didn’t have any malicious twinkle in her eye or bullying smirk, it really seemed like just a sincere question! And Hanbyul began to realize that maybe she was getting too used to workplace politics and competitiveness and it was interfering with her ability to just make friends. Was that what was happening here?

Maybe it was that hope, or maybe it was the alcohol starting to do numbers in her blood, but she admitted, “I don’t think I have a type… at least not one that has worked out for me.”

“Oh no. Something recent?”

“Oh… I did end something recently… but it wasn’t his fault, it was…” Oops. Just in time she realized she couldn’t say more about this without revealing way too much –not only because all roads led to their friend Jimin but also because she’d only just met these girls! “It didn’t work out,” she summarized.

“Another shot?” Andi asked, already signaling for the bartender.

“No, wait–”

“Yes!” Chun agreed. “You can feel sad about it tomorrow if you really want to, but tonight there’s dancing!”

“I’m a terrible dancer,” Hanbyul found herself confessing. They were overwhelming, both of these women, pressing another shot into her hand. It was bitter this time and made all three grimace and smack their lips.

She thought they’d missed what she said anyway but Andi insisted, “There’s no such thing as a terrible dancer. Technique? Sure. But dancing is just… feeling! It’s just moving! It’s just breathing.”

“You have clearly not seen me.”

“I was dancing with you five minutes ago!” Andi laughed. “And now I’ll dance with you again, let’s go!”

Hanbyul had Jungkook’s and her drinks in her hand, but did her best to shimmy and sway adequately along with Chun and Andi in the direction of the table. She felt ridiculous but their acceptance was a balm on her self-conscious soul. Jungkook and Hoseok leapt up at their approach and began dancing as well. It was just such a completely different club experience than Hanbyul was used to when she would go out with work peers, or longer ago when it was college friends rotation around her, drinking too much, picking at each other’s appearances and achievements to feel better about themselves in what felt like a hunting grounds for sex.

This didn’t feel that way at all! Hanbyul found her nerves dissolving with each sip, with each song (assuming it wasn’t just one long song playing which she thought entirely possible), with each moment of shared laughter. It was impossible but she began to feel as though she had known these people for a very long time.

Also the alcohol helped. 

Hoseok spun her around –vaguely she recalled making some comment about ballerinas– which led to her promptly over-balancing against him, or it was possible Jungkook had bumped into her, and possibly on purpose because they were dancing near their table and the space was tight and everyone was very close together. She felt barely on her feet and slid around to lean against the table instead and catch her breath so she didn’t accidentally drag Hoseok down. Their empties were gone and she hesitated over the waters, which had now sat unguarded for some period of time. She ought to get water fresh–

“Hey hey! You came out after all!”

Hanbyul didn’t know how she even heard Jungkook’s shout over the noise other than her sixth sense suddenly shooting an alarm up her spine. She turned, not even bothering to hope it was literally any other friend of Jungkook’s than Jimin.

No, worse. 

There was Jimin, an eyebrow lifted and his mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction.

And there beside him, both eyebrows lifted and mouth open in surprise aimed clearly, undeniably in her direction, was Namjoon.

“Fuck!” she choked out.

Jungkook gasped and grabbed her arm, asking, “Did I step on your foot?”

“No but I suddenly need to go home– I mean yes, I need to go home.”

“Shit, how bad–?” Jungkook dropped to a crouch, reaching for her foot. Which was a very bad look, she thought. She leapt away from him, but teetered again because the alcohol. The alcohol! Shit, she could not be drunk at a club like this in the presence of either Jimin or Namjoon and most definitely not together!

“I’m fine, but I’m heading out. Goodnight!” Would they believe that she hadn’t seen them and that’s why she wasn’t greeting either one of them? All of this had happened in the span of four seconds.

No, it wouldn’t make sense, even her alcohol-riddled brain knew they were directly in front of her.

“You really don’t have to leave on my account–” Namjoon said.

“Why do you have to go, just because I’m here–” Jimin said at the exact same time.

They stopped and looked at each other and Hanbyul lost at least three years off her life. 

And then mercifully, before they could say anything, Andi flung her arms around their shoulders and cheered, “You sad sacks came out after all? Let’s get you some motherfucking drinks!”

“Wait, you’re both really here? You never come out!”

“I have a kid,” Jimin defended, suddenly all smiles as Chun descended, pinching his arm and brushing something off his shoulder. 

“I, uh,” Namjoon coughed and looked over their heads. “I just don’t like places like this.”

“Oh sorry it’s not refined enough for you,” Andi tittered. “Too busy at art galas and restaurant openings to consort with club scum, huh?”

“Andi,” he complained, dimples flashing, all the charm Hanbyul had initially liked about him. And yet she felt so closed off from it now, like she could recognize but not really connect with that charm. How could she when Jimin was there beside him, glowing like her north star?  

Hanbyul saw her chance and took it. She ducked around them all and tried to flee for the door. She could call an Uber and be speeding away, looking back through the rear window, before anyone even noticed she was gone.

Unfortunately, the club was a confusing place and after weaving across the throng of dancers, she’d been carried by the current upstream to the bathrooms. 

“Shit-shit,” she mumbled to herself and darted inside because she really did need to pee too and better to do that now. Maybe they’d think she was already gone and stop looking for her and she could still escape. She took her time, braced every time the door opened for it to be Andi or Chun ruining her escape. But as some amount of minutes (uncountable because alcohol) ticked by, she steeled herself and found her confidence. She could get out of here. Whatever Namjoon and Jimin talked about in her absence, at least she wouldn’t be here to face it. That was a Tomorrow Hanbyul problem. Today Hanbyul needed to get the hell out of here.

She stepped boldly from the bathroom in the direction she was certain was the front door –and ran boldly into Namjoon.

“Hey.”

“Oh, hey, Namjoon,” she said, thinking as she said it how casual and cool she sounded. Might as well tack on hey, wow, I didn’t see you, didn’t know you were here!

“Hey look, I– sorry, I guess I surprised you… I didn’t know that you uh… knew these people… or would be out at a club… tonight. This club. With these people.”

“Oh, yeah, it was sort of a… a spur of the moment thing. Jungkook invited me along and I didn’t want to just sit at home so…” Her words caught up to her and she realized how terrible that sounded. I dumped you but I also didn’t want to be bored so I just went clubbing.

“Ah. So Jungkook uh… is the guy…? I didn’t even know you knew him…”

“What guy?”

“That you said…” He leaned in close as the music took a turn, and the warm scent of his cologne was unkind as he said closer to be heard, “You said you had feelings for–”

“Oh! NO THAT’S NOT HIM!” she shouted, stiff-arming him away. A little too roughly, she realized, and quickly grabbed his arm and apologized, “Sorry, I– I forgot I told you that. No, it’s not him. He’s just a friend. Sort of. And I– sorry, I’m a little drunk right now kind of?”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t just break things off with you and go party, I was feeling pretty bummed so I thought I’d do something out of the ordinary…I mean, it was the right thing to do but like I said, um… but now you’re here and…” And Jimin is here…

“Hey, it’s fine,” Namjoon assured her. “If you aren’t comfortable with me here, I can leave but if it’s ok, I can be cool.”

“You’re very cool,” she agreed.

He smiled, a handsome dimpled smirk like she hadn’t answered his question correctly, and corrected, “I just mean, I’m only going to be here for a drink and then I’ll go. This isn’t really my scene so don’t let me chase you away.”

“Ok.” 

“And uh, just so it’s out there, if you… ha, nevermind. I’m just going to get my drink, don’t mind me.” He held his hands up and backed away and Hanbyul hated not knowing what he’d been about to say. Maybe: if you want to be friends, that’s cool, I can refrain from ever letting anyone know we had sex and a few dates. She hated that he was probably not saying that.

Almost as much as she hated seeing Jimin standing not too far off, having clearly watched their interaction.

She couldn’t go talk to him. Not while Namjoon would see her and she would probably say or do something that would make it immediately obvious who Jimin was to her because damn he looked so good! He’d gelled his hair back and rolled the sleeves of his dark button-up to his elbows. The club lights flickered off his earring, as if he needed any help from a spotlight to draw eyes to him. Hanbyul felt like the crowd dramatically parted, like the lights shone specifically for him, from him. 

She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed to see her invading his friend group, or if he had a guess as to what had happened between her and Namjoon. For all she knew, Namjoon had told him everything before they came tonight, or in the time since she’d fled the table, and Jimin had come to demand what the fuck was wrong with her.

But Namjoon was a class act, maybe he hadn’t said anything. Maybe Jimin was only curious about why she and Namjoon had been speaking so closely. If she left now, all Jimin would know was whatever Namjoon said about it. If she stayed and everything seemed cool, maybe Jimin wouldn’t think anything weird was happening. She’d mentioned before she spoke to Jungkook through the app, so it couldn’t be a total surprise she was here.

It made sense in her mind, and was a better excuse than that other thought: I just want to hang out at a club with Jimin. 

Who was she kidding, she couldn’t stay here!

He was walking towards her and she couldn’t move. 

“Hey,” he greeted when he reached her and she wondered if he ever used that line on women at the club because it would totally work, looking like that.

“Jungkook invited me and I had a really long day so I thought it would be good to get out of my apartment,” she blurted out in an attempt to distance herself from Namjoon in one sweep.

“It is a good idea,” Jimin said. “I didn’t know you went clubbing.”

“Rarely.”

“Me neither.”

“You look like a natural,” she assured him.

“Clubber?”

“Huh?”

Jimin shook his head and laughed, “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Me?”

“Uh… yes?”

“Yes,” she said, despite knowing she really shouldn’t. More alcohol was the last thing she needed but Jimin had offered! Jimin twisted his hand behind his back so she could hold onto it and trail him through the club to the bar. Jimin asked her what she wanted and paid and she felt bad to let him pay but he’d bought her a drink!

Drink in hand, she was the one to lead them back to the table, though it had been abandoned; all Jimin’s friends were dancing. She thought to join, but Jimin leaned against the wall and she felt anchored to his side.

He nudged her arm and asked, “So how do you know Namjoon?”

“Dating app,” she answered quickly. “And Jungkook. I think all your friends are on there… I make a lot of friends on there… it’s not just for dating!” What was she even saying? She thought maybe if she said “friend” enough it would be enough to save her.

“Friends, huh?” He was practically shouting to be heard, not leaning in as close as Namjoon had. She wished he would; she felt like the distance meant something. “I don’t know anything about apps but I started an account today. Guess I’ll see you on there, huh?”

Hanbyul didn’t know what to do with that information. Why had he made an account on a dating app?!

Same reason as you, moron. Park Jimin was ready to start dating again, that’s what it told her. He’d come to the club looking like that, so maybe he’d been hoping to meet someone here. He must be, to come out when he didn’t normally. The thought of watching him pick up a woman made her break out in a cold sweat. What if she ran into her leaving Jimin’s apartment in the morning–no, probably he wouldn’t take someone there with Sun-young at home, but maybe she was spending the night somewhere else? 

“I hear it’s tough though,” Jimin said, still shouting. “Namjoon had a thing going I guess and it ended today so I made him come out too.”

Oh god, he knows.

“I’d rather meet people the traditional way,” he continued.

“Here?” she asked, face twisting into a grimace. “I guess it depends on what you’re looking for.” 

“Ah… I don’t know…”

“Not all of us meet people as easily as you but I don’t think you’ll have a hard time,” she shouted back.

He pressed his hand over his eyes and then laughed, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Do you need a pep talk before you go hit on someone?” she asked, drawing on all of her strength to be what he needed in this moment and not do what her drunk brain was encouraging her to (lean in and kiss.) “You are brave and smart and funny and–”

“Are you giving me the same speech you gave my daughter?”

“Maybe!” she laughed because he was laughing and because it all felt briefly very funny, having this shouted conversation in the club with Jimin. Encouraging him to go meet a woman “the traditional way” (drunk in a bar) to take home and do the things she wanted to do with him and hope he didn’t find out she’d done those things with his friend already… but different things! Similar in theme but different!

He finally did lean in and begin, “You know what she told me today? She– hey, maybe we should go somewhere we can hear–”

“HEY!” Chun suddenly appeared, followed in short order by Hoseok. “The fuck are you wallflowers doing?”

“Come dance,” Hoseok agreed. “You can talk at home!”

There wasn’t room left to argue. She and Jimin were dragged out, downing their drinks on the way to abandon on a table, and then pressed into the dancing mob. Hanbyul had hoped to position herself so she could at least dance near Jimin, but her hesitation when faced with Namjoon and what he might realize about her feelings towards his friend was just enough time for Andi and Chun to slide in between. Instead Hanbyul found herself on the fringe with Jungkook and Hoseok.

Maybe that was for the best. She was like a baby: without Namjoon or Jimin in sight she was able to forget them, aided by alcohol and loud music and the antics of these two of Jimin’s friends. Despite being physically graceful men, they were clearly just having fun with dancing; both grinned and laughed and didn’t take themselves too seriously which helped her feel less self conscious about what her less-drunk brain would have termed “awkward motions at best.” Maybe she was getting the hang of dancing in the club! Maybe she’d be confident enough now to dance over closer to Jimin! 

Abort abort abort!! Hanbyul froze at the familiar way a random woman danced with Jimin, her hands trailing over his body. Maybe she wasn’t random? Jimin did not seem put off by it, just laughed and lifted her hands but kept her close. Hanbyul wasn’t sure what to make of that. Was Jimin really that bold or did he already know that woman? Hanbyul couldn’t imagine dancing with a man like that. The envy flooded her.

She tried not to look again but it was hard not to. She felt suddenly like a switch had flipped and all the fun she’d been having abruptly turned off. She was being stupid jealous. Hadn’t she just encouraged Jimin to go meet someone? And they were just dancing. And even if it went somewhere, it wasn’t any of her business.

“I need water,” she announced to no one in particular and disappeared again, responsibly leading herself to the bar. It tasted weird and unpleasant in her mouth, and at the first sip she had the urgent need to pee, which meant another swim upstream through the crowds to reach the restrooms. The club was becoming less fun by the minute.

She didn’t think that much time had passed but when she tried to find the group again, they’d scattered. Trying to locate them was a fool’s errand; she’d think she saw one only to squeeze her way there and find it to be someone else. She was all twisted around. The room felt overly loud, the music too loud, the lights too bright. 

There, Jimin!

At the bar, nodding as the woman from earlier leaned in close to say something in his ear. He said something back, right in her ear, then appeared to look around before shaking his head. The woman touched his arm.

Hanbyul knew her night was over. She couldn’t stay here and watch him pick up a woman. She shouldn’t have been here in the first place. She could still see Namjoon out of the corner of her eye, that good guy she’d dumped for no reason other than that it was casual fun when she wanted something serious with someone who was not available, only for him to immediately find her out at the club. She couldn’t find Jungkook. She barely knew Andi and Chun. Her feet hurt and her head was swimming and she felt like she kept getting drunker even though she hadn’t had anything to drink in a while.

Oh no, she realized with a longing for sobriety. I drank too much. Control of her arms and legs felt exaggerated, and the music felt like it was leaking into her skull, and she had the impulse to take off her clothes because it was so hot in here.

Don’t do it! The last tendril of her rational self pleaded with her to behave. She shushed it gently with a finger to her lips.

“You!” a voice at her elbow called. She spun, expecting Jimin, finding Jungkook.

“You were lost!” she cried.

He glared and wagged his finger, “You disappeared! I’ll be in deep shit if I lose you!”

“With the proper authorities?”

“Wha?”

Someone bumped into her and she edged closer to Jungkook with a pout. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She wished Jimin would take her home –no, Jimin wouldn’t take her home, even though they lived right now to each other. Jimin might be taking someone else home.

“He’s still talking to her,” she realized, her eyes landing on Jimin despite the crowd. She couldn’t tell if it was the same woman but it didn’t matter. Jimin was going to take home whatever woman he wanted and meet more women on the dating app and Hanbyul was going to have to just sit back and cheer him on. She wanted to cry.

“Hey, you ok? You look like you’re about to cry.”

“I want to go home,” she said in a small voice. “I’m too drunk…”

“Ah, damn. No, don’t cry.”

“I won’t cry,” she vowed, though didn’t quite believe it herself.

“What? I can’t hear you… let’s just get you home,” he said, as best she could tell. When he nudged her towards the door, she let him guide her out. It had cooled off considerably outside and she shivered. The sudden shift in volume left her feeling teetery, as if she’d been leaning on the noise and body heat.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, hand gripping her arm.

“Um, just a little bit… I can get a cab…” she pulled her phone out of her purse and promptly dropped it on the ground. “Oops.” It was embarrassing for Jungkook to see her like this. She didn’t know how she’d gotten this far, just one drink leading to another, and it was all fine until suddenly she fully understood she was watching the love of her life–

“He’s not the love of my life,” she insisted.

“What now?”

“I don’t know, where’s my phone?”

Jungkook held it up, but promptly overbalanced and fell on his ass. Only when he started laughing did Hanbyul consider she wasn’t the only drunk one, and it was overwhelmingly comforting in that moment. A few tears did leak out then.

“Shit, you’re crying. Let me go get Jimin, he’s better with that kind of–”

“NO!”

“No… Jimin?”

“Can I sleep at your place?”

“Uh…” Jungkook looked up at her from the curb. “Yes… but–”

“Not to have sex!”

“Ok geez.”

“No, I have to get home to Hudu… where’s my phone…” 

“It’s dead,” Jungkook told her.

Hanbyul promptly sat down beside him on the curb and sighed, “Well shit.”

“I’ll get you home.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No? I should just wave and let you walk off? Jimin would shred my balls and peel the skin off my body.”

“Ew,” she gasped.

“Oh he can take you home, he lives right by you.” Jungkook began to rise but Hanbyul knocked against him to send him sprawling again. “What the–”

“No!” she cried on a delay. “Anyone but him.”

“Anyone?”

“It can’t be him. He’s… busy.”

“Busy…?”

“Like… flirting. I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Nah, he won’t mind.”

“I can’t! He can’t see me like this! Who knows what I’ll say?!”

“What’s the worst you can say?” Jungkook laughed. “‘I’m in love with you’?”

Hanbyul grabbed his arm, eyes going wide, and demanded, “Did I say that?!”

“Wha?”

“How did you know that?!”

“The… fucking… wait… do you?”

“Did Namjoon tell you that?!”

“What does Namjoon have to do with anything?”

“I didn’t tell him who but I didn’t think he would show up today and why is Jimin friends with everyone in this city–”

“He’s a friendly guy.”

“I know and I know I’m just a friend so you don’t have to tell me but I still didn’t mean to…” She trailed off, unable to bring herself to admit she’d fallen in love with him, or unknowingly slept with his friend, or that her jealousy over him even talking to other women in the bar right now was going to consume her.

“Hey.” Jungkook nudged her arm with his. She gave him a miserable look. “I don’t think you’re just a friend.”

“Thanks, Jungkook. That’s sweet of you… I think…”

“No, I mean–” A car interrupted him, pulling to a stop so close that they both scrambled backwards. “Oh that’s our car.” She thought it was too soon for a car to have arrived. How had he even ordered one on his phone without her seeing? They scrambled into the car like a pair of street rats.

“Oh my god I’m too drunk I shouldn’t have been saying any of this! Stop making me talk!”

“It thinks it’s the alcohol.”

“Too much,” she sighed. “Why did I come out with you?”

“To have fun. Admit it, you were having fun.”

“I was, until…”

“So you’re like… in love with–”

“Stop saying it! I didn’t say that.”

“You pretty much did,” he tittered.

“You can’t tell him. Promise me. Promise me, Jungkook, not a word!”

“Why would I tell him your business?” Jungkook snickered. “I think you should tell him. And let me watch.”

“Jungkook. Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook–”

“Hanbyul, what.”

“We can never tell him,” she said with utmost sincerity, grabbing his hand and squeezing as tightly as she could. “He can never know.”

“Why not?”

“He and Sun-young are too important to me. Do you understand?”

“Yeah but what if you’re important to him too?”

“I am. I get to take care of Sun-young sometimes and he likes my cooking…” She closed her eyes because the car ride was making her dizzy. At least thinking of Jimin helped settle her head just enough she didn’t think she was going to puke in the backseat of the Uber. Probably. 

“Yeah but what if he thinks you’re more important than your cooking?”

She smiled and wished she could move enough to pat his head as she explained, “He doesn’t but I can be happy with being neighbor Hanbyul, but not less than that if I make him uncomfortable and he stops talking to me.”

“I don’t really know you a lot but I don’t think you should settle.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yeah, I’m sweet,” he agreed. “I think it matters, love and romance and… and thinking someone is the best part of your day…”

“Are you a romantic?” she gasped.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“I thought you were a…”

“A what?!”

“A flirt…” Fuckboy.

“I am a flirt. I can be both. And I’m not setting for anything less than… I’m waiting to meet someone who gets all red faced talking about me like you do about Jimin.”

“I do not! I’m just drunk!”

“It’s cute.”

“I wish I could fall out of this car and have it run me over.”

Jungkook laughed hard and Hanbyul actually felt all right for him to know her secret. At least for right now. Even though he was one of Jimin’s best friends, at least right now her drunk mind did not perceive a threat that he would run and tell. Right now he felt like her friend too, like they were just two drunk girls in the bathroom sharing secrets. Except it was the back of a cab and his only secret was that he wanted to be in consuming love someday. To be honest, Hanbyul did not think being in love agreed with her so far.

Because yes, she was a little bit in love with Jimin and so far it was nothing but stomachaches.

They walked together up to her apartment. She thought he was just being a gentleman, but when she got back from the quickest pee she’d ever taken Hudu on, she found Jungkook puking in her bathroom.

“Mixed my alcohols,” he groaned. 

Well, Hanbyul was drunk enough to spill her secrets but not enough to puke. With any luck, Jungkook wouldn’t even remember these conversations tomorrow; she hadn’t realized he was as or even more drunk than she was.

“You can sleep on the couch,” she told him.

“The couch? Come on, let me share your bed.”

“Jungkook!”

“We don’t have to fuck! Jimin would never forgive me–”

“Stop talking about it!”

“About fucking? Or Jimin? Or fucking Jimin–”

“Jungkook!”

“Come on, you’re practically my sister in law at this point, just let me sleep in your–”

“I am not! What are you talking about?!” She covered her face and leaned against the wall. And refused to admit that she felt some secret little thrill in this teasing, in someone else making her connection to Jimin seem real and acceptable and possible. Even though she knew it wasn’t and that Jungkook was just a brat who was enjoying teasing her –which was sweet in its own way but she was definitely going to die of embarrassment tomorrow if he remembered any of this.

When she uncovered her face, Jungkook was holding Hudu, swaying slowly with the pup under his chin, and humming. 

Until he suddenly set Hudu down and sprinted to the bathroom again. At that point he decided he wanted the couch after all, since it was closer to the toilet. Hanbyul brought him a trash can too and a glass of water, by which point he was already asleep. Not that she was far behind. The room spun as she lay in bed, the events of the day sliding and jostling over each other.

Jimin was so handsome. And sweet. And charming. And kind. And handsome.

It didn’t matter what Jungkook said. Jimin wasn’t interested in her like that, as evidenced by his attention to other women, as evidenced by his mentioning dating other people to her several times now, as evidenced by his joining of a dating app when there was a perfectly ok Hanbyul down the hall.

Plus… Namjoon.

Well. This had been fun. But Hanbyul was never going to drink again and never going to go out with Jungkook and their friends again.

But first she made sure Jungkook was asleep with traitor Hudu curled up on his legs, and closed her bedroom door, and let her vibrator walk her through the memories of the way Jimin had looked and danced, except this time around her, kissing the lingering taste of his drink into her mouth…

Jimin slept like shit. Every time he’d start to doze, he’d grab his phone again, squinting at the blinding brightness to see if there was a message back. Occasionally he’d manage to fall asleep only to bolt up, certain he’d heard his phone ring –that obnoxious awful ring he’d put on ever since that one time Sunnie’s school hadn’t been able to get hold of him because he always kept his phone on silent and they’d called Hoseok, the second emergency contact, to go get Sunnie and she’d thought it meant her dad died too.

There was never an obnoxious ring going off. Instead he drifted in and out of sleep until Sun-young was awake, enough of an excuse to get out of bed and go through the motions of making them both breakfast and rattling off their plans for the day. Not that there was much for this one blessed weekend. Jimin wasn’t teaching any classes or partaking of any workshops or attending any performances by fellow dancers. Sun-young wanted to see her friends but there was nothing planned yet, and she had no weekend dance since there was no reason for her to take on extra. It wasn’t time for dress rehearsals yet. For her final recital.

“We need to grocery shop,” Jimin suggested, because their fridge was empty and that made him think of cooking and food and Hanbyul, which was better than thinking of Sunnie quitting dance. Hanbyul who had not answered his phone call or either of his texts asking if she got home all right. That wasn’t excessive, was it? But she’d been very drunk, and every time he’d tried to make his way over to her, Kim Hayoon kept catching hold of him again –and he couldn’t exactly just shove her off because she sat on the board of a scholarship that aided many of his students, which in turn kept his lights on and doors open.

Hanbyul must be ok. Just hung over. Hoseok said he’d seen Jungkook getting her an Uber and while Jimin would have greatly preferred that someone let him know Hanbyul was heading out so he could catch a ride home with her, he knew he could trust Jungkook. The fact she was drunk was both obvious and endearing, he could see it in the way she danced without her usual reserve, and the exaggerated way she responded when anyone talked to her. She just had a different look in the club when they’d talked that he couldn’t quite explain but it had just felt… different. He hadn’t understood she was drunk at first when they spoke, and maybe she wasn’t yet then, maybe that came later. He didn’t know, she just seemed happy. He had gotten painfully little actual time with her and the injustice of that was palpable. She’d looked amazing and he had never in his life expected to be at a club with her and he would have liked to dance together. Preferably just the two of them… and what the fuck was wrong with him that he hadn’t managed to make it happen?!

“I’m not hungry,” Sun-young said, possibly related to his comment about grocery shopping. He closed the refrigerator, now several degrees warmer, and looked over where Sunnie poked at her gyeran bap, cheek resting on her hand.

“You want cereal instead? We have…” He trailed off, realizing they had none. Hanbyul might have some he could bum off her…

“No,” Sun-young sighed. “Can I watch TV?”

“Sure, but we should go grocery shopping today and figure out what else we need to do… laundry… do you have homework?” Even as he said these things, he frowned. He did need to do these tasks, but he also wanted to just have fun with his daughter. Maybe Hanbyul could come along? He could tease her about last night, make sure she understood he had wanted to dance with her–

But to what end? He’d dance with her and maybe she’d humor him and only think to herself a little why is this old dad wanting to dance with me at the club? Why is he even here? He didn’t usually go to clubs –not because he didn’t enjoy them but because he didn’t usually have the time or energy. But Namjoon was bummed because that girl he’d been dating had called things off and it wasn’t serious but it kinda sucked and so Jimin had called in a favor with Yoongi and put himself together and gone to the clubs.

And there was Hanbyul, for no reason he could comprehend at the time, long hair pulled back to show off her neck, wearing a cute very short dress he’d never seen her in before… vibing with Jungkook. For a moment he’d lit up like a holiday tree with surprise and envy and relief, because here was an opportunity to spend time with Hanbyul in an adult setting except she was already spending that time with Jungkook! 

And then there was whatever Namjoon and Hanbyul had been talking about by the bathroom. He didn’t realize she’d gotten to know so many of his friends around him and now he felt even more like an idiot not to have invited her into his circle long ago. They clearly got along with her, she seemed happy –except for that moment she spoke with Namjoon, and looked so distressed it was hard to hold himself back from running in to save her. Maybe he should have. At the time he’d hesitated because Hanbyul wasn’t his to save and whatever they were talking about wasn’t his business. He’d been anchored by that twist of displeasure that she was young and single and pretty and so were his friends. 

Sun-young curled up on the couch with a blanket and watched some kid drama with an unblinking, disconnected stare. It dragged Jimin from his thoughts of Hanbyul.

“You ok, Sunnie?”

“I’m tired.”

That was wildly unlike her. Jimin perched on the edge of her couch and touched her forehead but couldn’t decide whether it was unusually warm or not. 

“Does anything hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Your head? Your stomach? Your throat?”

“I don’t know, I just feel…”

“Yes?” he prodded, waiting for the revelation.

“Tired.”

Illness in Sun-young always raised a panic in him on par with what he’d experienced when she was only an infant and he and Subin young, inexperienced parents convinced every sniffle could be the first sign of something fatal. Most parents learned over time through proof of the contrary that colds were common and their child was healthy, though the fear always lurked in the shadows. But when Subin was suddenly very sick, and only a short time later died, it broke that security in Jimin. Any illness could be the last one. 

The doctor’s office was used to his overreactions at this point. He didn’t care, though he tried to reign it in once Sun-young made clear she found the coddling overbearing. He tried to trust her assessment of her own body, but she was a child! She gave him nothing to go on this time anyway, just tired, so Jimin checked ears and nose and throat, took her temperature, pressed on her belly, took her temperature again.

“A small fever,” he murmured.

“I think it’s just a cold,” she said, drooping to the couch again. She nudged his leg. “I can’t see.”

“Your vision is hazy?!”

“You’re blocking the TV.”

“Oh…” 

“My throat hurts a little,” she conceded, as if throwing him a bone in his worry. He had thought it looked a little red, her lymph nodes a bit swollen to touch.

This called for an aggressive offense of yuzu jelly tea, popsicles, and Sunnie’s favorite stew samgyetang. But they were out of popsicles, there was only a scrape of yuzu jelly left in the jar to make tea with, and of course he had no samgyetang readily on hand.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearing ten now. Surely Hanbyul would be waking up –even if she’d slept in with a hangover. In fact, he had some Easy Tomorrow she could drink! He should have taken it over last night and regretted his thoughtlessness now. She might be having a rotten morning and it would be shitty of him to show up and ask if she had any yuzu jelly or could make samgyetang for his sick daughter.

But she might be already making it for herself, and she might not mind sharing the jelly, and she might appreciate the Easy Tomorrow later than never. Plus he could confirm with his own eyes she’d gotten home safe.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“Just to see if Hanbyul has yuzu jelly.”

“Tell her to come watch TV with me,” Sun-young said from her blanket burrito. “You can say I’m sick if it makes her come.”

“I think you are sick, kiddo.”

“I’m just a little tired.”

She coughed immediately afterwards, as if even her body couldn’t stand by the dismissal of her symptoms. Jimin would never. Already he was evaluating just how far he’d let her symptoms get before he’d take her to the doctor. The answer: not very far.

He felt a twinge of guilt as he knocked on Hanbyul’s door. She might have a headache so he started quietly but when he didn’t hear anything, graduated to the buzzer.

He tracked footsteps to the door and then a pause during which he assumed Hanbyul was peeking through the peephole to see who was bothering her on a Saturday morning. He ran his hand through his hair, hoping he didn’t look too rough.

The door swung open to reveal Jungkook wearing yesterday’s clothes and looking puffy-eyed and crusty. He yawned and scratched at his cheek and gave Jimin a sleepy grin.

“Hey, Easy Tomorrow, thanks,” he said, reaching for the bottle. “I was just heading out. Hanbyul’s still asleep if that’s who you’re looking for.”

Jimin was so completely stunned to be confronted by Jungkook answering Hanbyul’s door that he could only stammer out, “Who else would I be looking for at Hanbyul’s apartment?”

“Yeah, good point.” Jungkook unscrewed the cap from the bottle and downed it in one long chug while Jimin just stood there, waiting for an answer to any of the questions he couldn’t find his voice for: why are you waking up inside Hanbyul’s apartment wearing yesterday’s clothes? Why did you go home with her? Why did you invite her out in the first place? Are you two dating now? Did you fuck?

Bottle empty, Jungkook handed it back to Jimin and clapped him on the shoulder as he said, “It was good you came out last night. I think everyone had a lot of fun.”

“Uh… yeah, uh…”

“Fuck. Think I’ll get some more sleep at home… see ya later. Tell Sunnie I said hey.”

Jungkook did not seem to realize that Jimin was stunned speechless. He set off down the hall, leaving Hanbyul’s door open as if Jimin was going to just waltz right in. She wasn’t even out of bed yet! Had she slept naked after Jungkook…

Jimin pulled the door shut, making sure he heard the click of the lock before sprinting back to the safety of his own apartment. There he snuggled down beside Sun-young and pulled out his phone to order yuzu jelly tea and stew and anything else he could think of that they wanted for delivery, cost be damned. 

What the fuck?! Had Jungkook really gone home with and slept with Hanbyul?

Jimin couldn’t even process it. Jungkook ought to know she was off limits! But also, of course Jungkook wouldn’t think she was off limits, because Jimin never said so, because she wasn’t off limits. Even if it felt wrong for her to not be off limits. Even if Jimin and Hanbyul weren’t dating, she shouldn’t be dating any of his friends either, right?? Because… because there was still an emotional connection there…

Jimin flat out didn’t know what to do. Everything in him warred between marching right over, coming out with it and seeing what she said… and doing anything in the world except that.

But coming out with what? What did Jimin have to offer Hanbyul? Absolutely nothing in some areas and too much in others. A single father, a dead wife, a heart still trying to adjust to the idea of letting someone else in. If Hanbyul was interested in Jungkook, then Jimin was not the guy for her. Jimin should be looking for someone older and settled or something anyway, right? Maybe someone with a kid too, so they could mutually burden each other –not that he thought Sun-young was in any way a burden, but it was a lot to ask someone who wasn’t a parent to suddenly become one!

“Is unnie coming?” Sunnie asked, sitting up and leveling a pink-faced pout in his direction. 

“Oh uh, I don’t know, she wasn’t awake yet.”

“Can you call her? I really want her to come over.”

Jimin stroked Sun-young’s hair and took her acceptance of this touch as proof she was very sick. 

Would it be such a bad thing if Hanbyul wound up with Jungkook? He could use someone to look after him, and she could use someone who could be fun and free with her. And she’d still be in Sunnie’s life, just as an aunt instead of…

Was he really thinking of Hanbyul like this? It wasn’t in any explicit way, words still seemed impossible and ill-fitting and heavy. He didn’t know what he wanted, he doubted Hanbyul wanted this nameless space, he was too afraid to look directly at this thing taking hazy shape in his mind, this future starting to come into focus. Did the future have to be big and scary? Wouldn’t it be the easiest thing in the world right now for Hanbyul to walk in from the other room and settle on the couch with them, legs folded beneath her, Jimin’s arm around her shoulder and Sun-young draped across their laps? Hanbyul’s head settling onto his shoulder…

The physical closeness was the only thing that would be new, and he wanted it. He craved it in such a sudden, overwhelming rush that it almost drove him from the couch to take a lap around the apartment to work out this restless energy. He wanted Hanbyul here and it wasn’t fair that she wasn’t. Sunnie wanted her here too! Couldn’t they just have what they wanted this time? The scene was playing out in his mind, the casual affection, Hanbyul’s hand stroking Sunnie’s hair, Jimin’s fond smile, maybe a soft shared kiss once Sun-young drifted off to sleep halfway through the movie. God, to kiss Hanbyul, to share a warm, close embrace that he’d been deprived of for years! And for the first time in as long, the longing for it didn’t bring him to his knees in grief. Subin was there in his heart, forever and always, but there was space for Hanbyul too, space he desperately wanted her to fill. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at the empty space on the couch as if she was really there, as if they were sharing the phantom first kiss. His flush was as real as if they had.

God, he was pathetic. Lonely, and latching on to a fantasy of his neighbor. He tried to push the thoughts from his head with limited success and turned to narrating the TV show to Sun-young instead until she insisted he stop. 

“Is this what you want to watch? Here, let me get you socks and your stuffie. Maybe you need some medicine too? I think delivery will be here soon–”

“Appa just stay still with me.”

He immediately froze, still as a statue as Sun-young adjusted in his arms, her little warm body curled up with his in a way he’d feared she had outgrown. 

Well he sure fucking wasn’t moving now.

“Ok. I’ll stay,” he assured her. 

“Did you message unnie?”

“Yes,” he partially lied. “But she has something else going on. It’s just going to be us, ok?”

“Ok,” Sunnie sighed and he felt her head getting heavier against his chest. 

There. There, if she could accept it, he could too. They didn’t need Hanbyul or anyone else in their lives. The two of them and the memory of Subin were a whole-enough family. Things were already getting better between them since he’d budged on the dance and science, and the future would be ok. 

He’d let Jungkook know to take care because Hanbyul was a good woman, and then he’d let go of that silly dream he’d almost fallen into.

He had Sunnie and Sunnie had him and they didn’t need anyone else in the world.

Except maybe someone to get the delivery at the door so he didn’t have to unsettle his sleeping daughter. Shit! 

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#jimin ff #jimin x oc #park jimin fanfic #dad jimin #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin fic #jimin fanfic #single dad jimin #after the applause

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober Day 20: Found Family

Day 20! This one was very fun to write, and is a continuation of Day 16 because I can <3 Bruise angst my beloved and I really dug into it in this batch. You guys will see the fruits of that labor in a couple hours.

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.3k

“Are we brothers?”

The question caught Cole a bit off-guard, and the training dummy plowed straight into his arm when he stopped paying attention to it. He rubbed at his arm, glancing over to Jay as the other boy stood on the steps with his hands on his hips. Jay looked troubled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and hands clenching and unclenching. They had been together long enough for Cole to recognize the signs of Jay’s anxiety.

It was a weird question. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Jay looked down at the ground, “say my parents just called me and I called you my brother, would you be mad at me?”

Cole raised his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t think that they would’ve been close enough or spent enough time together to call each other brothers. Although, now that he thought about it, they fought at least once a day over the stupidest of things that could be solved in an instant; he would put Jay in a headlock and give him noogies all the time; every time there would be a chore that Wu would give them they would start fighting over it like screeching cats until one of them eventually had to do it, but at the end of the day they would still sit on the couch and play video games until Jay was knocked out with his head on Cole’s shoulder and the earth ninja would have to carry him to bed.

He never had a brother, and he knew Jay didn’t have one either. So how could either of them know what brothers were supposed to be?

“No,” he said honestly, “I wouldn’t be mad. Why?”

“I, uh, may have just done that.”

Figures. Jay wouldn’t have been asking him otherwise. “Do you think we’re brothers?”

Jay rocked on his heels. “I mean, I don’t have any. But I think that if I did have a brother, I would want it to be you.” He looked panicked for a second, probably worried about Cole’s reaction. “Is that weird? Oh that’s probably really weird I’m sorry-”

“Woah!” Cole said, stepping forward and taking his friend (brother) by the shoulders. “Hey, now. Calm down, Jay, I already said that I wasn’t mad. I-I’m really flattered actually.”

“Really?”

“Really. And hey, I’m happy to call you my brother any day of the week.”

Cole cringed in his waiting room chair as the memory finished playing in his head, the plastic seat hard and uncomfortable. It wasn’t the first time he had been here, and it wouldn’t be the last, but you would think that after all the trips they’ve had to make to the emergency room they would’ve started to bring seat cushions for the long waits in-between. However, it was the first time that he had been alone in the waiting room since he was a small child and his mom was sick. He couldn’t say that it brought back good memories to be back here.

His mind kept flashing back to just a few minutes ago, watching as his brother convulsed on the gurney in terror, fighting against the nurses trying to hold him down. Cole was angry, insisting to the nurse that he needed to get to Jay, and eventually he stormed past her despite her saying that only family was allowed behind the scenes.

Jay was his brother; it didn’t matter whether there was a stupid piece of paper to prove it or not.

His little brother had been so scared, terrified of the strangers’ voices connected to faces that he couldn’t see with their hands all over him, but especially the oxygen mask that they had strapped to his face. Cole pushed down the anger that threatened to bubble over, choosing instead to focus on getting his brother to calm down so they could treat his stab wound.

Kissing his forehead well after Jay had gone back to sleep, Cole watched as his brother was wheeled back to somewhere that he couldn’t follow just quite yet, trying to channel the natural patience that came with his element.

“Excuse me?” a nurse called from the door, and Cole picked his head up to look at her. “Are you here for Jay Walker?”

“Yes, I am.” Cole said, getting up from his chair and feeling his back pop as he did so.

“Are you family—”

“He is my brother,” Cole said shortly; part of him felt bad, but the other part didn’t care, “and if you try and keep me from going to see him just because it’s not on record, I will have to ask you to step aside.”

The nurse looked terrified. “O-Of course, you may go see him now. He’s in the third room on the right.”

Cole thanked her, and she stepped aside to let him pass through the door. Walking down the hallway brought back memories from years ago, and Cole could feel himself continuing to shut down with every step he took, and this wasn’t even the hospital where she passed. He couldn’t imagine how strong the memories would be if he ever went back; all it had taken was one trip and a meltdown before the team unanimously agreed to never visit unless they absolutely had to, and if they did then Cole would stay home.

But what happened to his mom wasn’t going to happen to Jay.

The door opened easily, making no sound as he stepped into the room, and Cole sucked in a breath when he saw his brother lying on the bed.

Jay was pale, making his auburn hair stand out against the stark white of the pillow. There was a cannula on his face instead of a full mask, and Cole was grateful that there wouldn’t be another meltdown. Beeping unsteadily, the heart monitor stood alone in the corner, opposite of the IV line hooked into Jay’s arm. The room was as blank as any other room that they had ever been in, and Cole was grateful for the bare walls. Her room hadn’t been barren because of how much time they spent in it.

Standing next to the bed, Cole brought the room’s one chair with him, its legs scraping against the floor with a sound that made him cringe. Making sure that Jay stayed asleep, Cole sat, taking his brother’s hand in his own and starting to play with the blue ninja’s fingers.

“Would it kill you to go on one mission without giving me a heart attack?” Cole asked, getting no answer other than a soft wheeze. The others were still chasing down the bad guys, Cole having been designated as the one to take Jay to the hospital after taking the knife to the gut.

It was almost too common at this point. Jay never used to act so recklessly, throwing himself in front of every possible danger as if he couldn’t die. Recently, there were too many missions ending with someone taking him to the hospital, or bringing him to the medical bay on the Bounty to get treatment well into the wee hours of the night. He knew that the others were starting to notice, trying to intervene before Jay could throw himself to the wolves so he would stay safe. 

He and Nya had spent too many lengthy conversations about it. Cole knew something was wrong, but he didn’t even know where to start pushing to find out what it was.

Groaning, Jay cracked open his eyes. “Cole?”

“Yeah, bud,” Cole answered, standing back up and making sure that Jay could see him.

Jay squinted, his freckles standing out against his pale skin. “What happened?”

“You got stabbed. I took you to the hospital and you’ve got to stay here for the next couple days to make sure your stitches and whatnot don’t get infected.”

“Oh,” Jay closed his eyes, leaning into Cole’s hand when it cupped his cheek, “where are the others?”

Cole bit his lip, and he really hoped that the rest of the team wouldn’t make a liar out of him. “They’re on the way, they should be here soon. Do you need anything?”

Licking his lips, Jay brought his hand up to his face, and Cole saw how he relaxed when he shot a small bolt of lightning between his fingers. Did he really think that Cole would’ve let the hospital staff put the vengestone back on? “Is there any water?”

There was a small pitcher and some cups on the other table. “Yeah, I’ll get you some.”

Picking it up was a bit of a hassle with his new hands; he kept forgetting that it really hadn’t been that long since he was revived. You would think that would be something you would remember, but it was just another day in Ninjago when Cole was concerned. Filling the cup to about halfway, Cole brought it back to Jay, helping him to hold it when the blue ninja’s hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Actually, Jay couldn’t stop shaking. “Are you cold? Do you need another blanket?”

“It’s probably the blood loss,” Jay said, and he wasn’t entirely wrong, “don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

“Jay, you’re my brother. If you need a blanket then I can get you a blanket—”

“I said I’m fine, Cole,” Jay said quickly, and Cole was surprised to hear his brother’s voice crack mid-sentence. “Stop worrying about it, please.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Cole helped his brother sit up enough to bury his face into Cole’s shoulder, resting a hand on the blue ninja’s back while Jay’s fist latched onto his uniform. Kissing the top of his head, Cole sighed, remembering that Jay was probably a little loopy from the pain meds and that he would need to be gentle. “Bluebell, it’s fine. I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t want to do it. What’s got you so worked up?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

He sniffled, and Cole could feel tears start to soak into his gi. “For getting hurt and making you take me to the hospital and I know I’ve had to go here a lot recently and I know it’s probably super expensive but I can get a second job if I need to since it’s not fair that it has to come out of everyone’s paychecks—”

And Jay kept rambling, words flying so fast that Cole could only catch every fifth word, but he didn’t interrupt his brother. Clearly, Jay had been bottling this up for a long time, and Cole knew that if he wanted to get a rational explanation from Jay then he would have to listen to the panicked word vomit version first. It was just how Jay worked.

Rubbing his back, Cole stayed quiet and nodded when he was supposed to and hummed whenever Jay “wanted” a response. It took almost ten minutes for Jay’s words to finally run out, and he slumped against the black ninja, exhausted. Cole kissed the back of his head, tucking Jay closer to his chest and laying his chin on Jay’s crown. “Thank you,” Jay said softly, shivering.

“You’re welcome,” Cole said, “now I’m going to get you that blanket, and you’re going to repeat everything you just told me but at a quarter of the speed. Or you’re going to sleep.”

“Okay.”

Helping Jay to lay back down against the pillows, Cole ruffled his hair and gave him a small smile before leaving the room to try and find a nurse. There was one right outside of their room who looked friendly enough. He could’ve just used the call button, but he knew Jay, and he knew that the younger male would appreciate a couple minutes to himself after having a breakdown.

“Excuse me?” Cole said, and the nurse turned around. “Are there any of the warmed blankets left?”

She led him to the heater and grabbed one, folding it up neatly and handing it over. Thanking her, Cole made his way back to Jay’s hospital room, but not before pulling his phone out and dialing Nya’s number to update them on the situation.

“Hello? Cole?”

Shifting the blanket in his hands, Cole smushed the phone between his cheek and his shoulder. “Hey Nya. Are you guys on your way?”

“Yeah, we’re in the car right now. We had to make a quick pitstop to patch Kai up but we should be there soon. How’s Jay?”

“Fine,” Cole sighed, “you might have a little trouble getting back here. They wouldn’t let me go through until Jay started having a meltdown.”

“What? Why was he having a meltdown?”

He reached Jay’s hospital room, so Cole lowered his voice. “They put an oxygen mask on him and then slapped on some vengestone. He started panicking pretty bad but I got him to calm down. No one got hurt.” Too badly, anyway.

Nya growled on the other end. “I don’t care if they were hurt or not, I’ll maim them myself.”

“There’s no need for that,” Cole said, “you guys are gonna have enough trouble getting to his room since they’re only letting family in. Don’t cause any more.”

“I’ll cause as much as I want to,” Nya paused, and Cole knew that she was thinking, “but fine. We’ll be there shortly.”

She hung up, and Cole stuffed the phone back in his pocket. Opening the door to Jay’s room, Cole noticed that the blue ninja had found the remote and turned on the tv to some cartoon channel, and now the blue ninja was fixated on watching the goofy events unfold on screen.

“Jay?” Cole asked, not wanting to startle him. Jay shushed him, still watching, and Cole chuckled at the rare focused expression on his brother’s face.

Silently, Cole made his way to the bed and climbed into it next to Jay, spreading the still-warm blanket out over the both of them. Jay leaned into his big brother’s side, yawning, and Cole wrapped an arm around Jay’s waist while being careful of his stitches.

If Jay wanted to watch cartoons for the rest of the day, then Cole could wait for their conversation.

#ninjago #ninjago jay #finn's writing #ninjago cole #whumptober day 20 #whumptober 2023

[pup-st0rm]

Ƭɾʋƈƙҽɾʂ Ɓσყ

Poor Steven when he was informed about the new Federal Law passed requiring all males between the ages of 18-25 to report to a collections office to get their penis measured and anyone under 6 inches would become government owned slaves,he thought he’d be safe, but sure enough when he got to his measuring he stopped just short at 5.8 inches.

“Come on doc it’s only 0.2 inches you can cut me a break” Steven said hoping the doctor might look the other way. Suddenly the doctor slapped Steven across the face so hard Steven fell to the ground then said.

“Sorry fag boy rules are rules, you’re a slave now so I gotta teach you early to follow them. Guard come take this one in for processing.” Steven was shocked and angry but before he could do anything a 6’3 muscular man walked in and easily put Steven’s 5’8 scrawny in handcuffs and lead him away by his wavy curly brown hair , but before he left the office the doctor said “you are a cute little fag tho I hope you get put up for auction so I can bid on you.”

The rest of the day was processing he got the government branded “Slave” tattoo on the back of his neck along with a identification barcode on his butt and was told he was not aloud cover them under any means before assignment and he was to obey any order given to him by any man. Then he was let go for 48 hours to give up all his belongings and settle affairs before reporting back for assignment. To help him start they took everything he brought with him including his wallet, phone, car keys and, all his clothes leaving him to walk 20 minutes home bare naked.

After got to his apartment he realized they took his house keys and the only other pair were the ones his pervy old landlord has. To avoid anymore embarrassment from just standing naked in the hall he quickly rushed down the stairs and knocked on the landlord’s office door.

“Come in” said the landlord. “Oh look who we have here Steven.” The landlord was a fat 50 year old Italian man who always made Steven feel uncomfortable, always looking at him like he was a piece of meat. “Guess you were smaller than I thought” he said mockingly while circling Steven. Well I suppose you need me to unlock your door so you can pack up, had a couple other slaves come in Buck naked asking the same.”

“Yea” Steven said sheepishly embarrassed about his current predicament.

“That’s Yes Sir to you faggot” said the landlord before giving Steven a good slap to the ass.

“Yes Sir” replied Steven.

“Good Fag now unzip my pants and suck my cock” the landlord demanded.

“No fucking way” Steven said in disgust before getting slapped to the ground for a second time.

“Are you fucking stupid faggot I’m a Man and I gave you an order and to my understanding you have to follow it now unless you want to call the local Slave Center to collect you early you’ll suck my cock” the landlord said while unzipping his pants and sticking his semi hard dick In Stevens face.

“Yes Sir” Steven said in defeat while slowly putting his lips around his perverted landlords sweaty cock.

Immediately after Steven had taken the landlords cock in his mouth his grabbed the back of his head and started face fucking him. “You’re lucky I’m a gentleman and saving your Cherry incase the government wants to auction you” said the landlord while Steven was trying and failing to escape the brutal face fucking him with his now fully erect 7 inch penis. After 5 minutes Steven stop struggling and his landlord started coming down his throat, “Good faggot can’t believe I’ve waited years hoping you’d be a couple months late on rent so I could to do that to you, oh well let’s get you into that apartment so you can get back to the center.”

Later all Steven could think was “I gotta find a way out of this, I can’t do that for the rest of my life.” So he scoured the internet on ways to escape luckily he found a group of new slaves in a town just a 1 hour drive away away that planned to sneak over the border the next night but since he couldn’t leave county limits on public transport and his car was repossessed he’d have to start walking that night so he through on a loose hoodie and sweats and started walking while holding his finger out hoping anyone would let him hitch the rest of the ride.

Sometime mid morning he was walking on the side of the highway and a delivery truck pulled up next to him.

The driver rolled down the passenger window and said “hi I’m Dave hop on in.“

“Thanks Dave I’m just going to the next town over” said Steven while getting in the truck.

“Well that’s great I’m heading that way right now “ Dave said starting the truck and merging back onto the highway. For the next 40 minutes of driving they talk and joked around like regular dudes. Steven was happy to finally be treated like a real human being again like the last 24 hours never happened.

The truck came to a stopped ,“welp you’re here” said Dave. The passenger door immediately swung open and Steven was grab by huge man. Panicking Steven looked around and suddenly realized he hood was down the whole time, Dave must have seen the tattoo on the back of his neck and taken him to a Slave Center. While the big man took Steven inside kicking and cursing at Dave, Dave just got out of his truck and walked up to the trainer in front of the building.

“Thank you for bringing in this misguided slave be rest assured he’ll be punished accordingly for trying to escape. After that he was originally assigned to be auctioned but as gratitude for bringing him in we’ll let you decide his fate.” Said the trainer.

“Well I could use a new slave to tie to the front of my truck and use a truck stops and what not” said Dave.

“Any specific modifications ?” Asked the trainer.

“Permanent chastity obviously but maybe you could really work his throat and seal him in a self cleaning/cooling bio rubber gimp suit. I wanna be able to leave him at a truck stop for a day or two and not worry about dehydrating him” replied Dave with a devilish grin.

[jihyosdaughter]

can u write a lee!leeknow and ler!felix i js love minlix sm😭

ℂ𝕌𝕋𝔼 𝔸𝔾ℝ𝔼𝕊𝕊𝕀𝕆ℕ

𝒍𝒆𝒆!𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒉𝒐

𝒍𝒆𝒓!𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙

TW:this is a tickle fic,if it's not your cup of tea just scroll.

--------song recommendation--------

-Hyyuuung!Pay your attention to me instead of your stupid book! -Younger boy whined, as his hyung wasn't paying any kind of attention on him all.

He already layed as close as possible to Minho,trying to stop him from his boring hobby,and finally play with him.

Meanwhile, Lee Know was reading new chapter peacefully and absorbedly, not yet knowing, what kind of torture his gonna experience in few minutes.

Poor boy already tried everything to make his hyung play with him ,untill the genius idea popped up in his head. He smirked mischievously,as he was surprised how he hadn't thought of it earlier.

He put his head on older's boy shoulder, thinking of how should he embody his insidious conception into reality.

Untill he noticed a little blanket next to him, and decided that he should finally start.

-What are you even reading?- he asked with quizzically in his voice.

-Pride and Prejudice,I already told you. Minho answer with his usual monotonouslly in his voice, expecting younger to piss of him finally.

-Aww,don't tell me that those old, humdrum piece of paper is more fun than me!-

-Why don't you just get ofaaahGH!HEY!

- Minho’s dissatisfied phrase was suddenly interrupted my younger hands,that snached book out and quickly put older's hands in a loop that he created from blanket,and tighten in as hard as he can.

-Now,it's my time)-Yongbok giggled, as he finally got the perfect opportunity to have fun with his "cold" hyung.

-I'm..not even tickl..ish..stohop..-Small giggle uncontrollably escaped his mouth, as he saw his dongsaeng ominously cracked his fingers with evil grin on his physiognomy.

-Aww,really?You've stop being ticklish from yesterday?-Yongbok teasingly asked,relishing older's reaction, as his hyungs ears start adorably turn rosy, that means that Felix definitely got him good with all this teasing.

-Shuhut..up..

-Felix put his tongue in cheek as sing that he's pretty annoyed with olders boldness.

-Quite bold words from someone within tickling distance.”-As yongbok said that,his fingers digged in older's exposed,vulnerable armpits. This area was quite sensitive, as all of the members learned each other's worst spots, and use this against them, depending to the situation.

Minho tried. Really tried. He hold his laugh as hard as he can, clenched his teeth to the point they gonna start soring.He bit his lower lip,but eventually, he broke.

-AHHHHAAAAAHAYONGBOHOKIENOOOHAJHAAAA- Deafening scream that he made could hear the whole dorm, Yongbok's ears ringed from such earsplitting sound. At the same time,his face brightened with cute grin, caused with older cuteness.

-IMGONAHAHKILLYOUUAHAHA- Minho tried threaten his tickled,but failed,breaking into adorable bunny smile.

Yongbok felt that he is gonna explode from all the cute aggression,he felt like he want to pinch him all over,squeeze and kiss him all over,that's felt overwhelming.

-Why you are so cute..-Felix let out quite squeak,as he can't help himself to get his emotions together,and he didn't even notice how he stop tickling his victim.

-Ihim nohot..stohap..-Older said with heavy breath,being grateful even for 20 seconds break.

Felix felt the urge to mess with his hyung a little more.

He lean his hands and start ruffling Minho’s hair,messing it all completely,including his face.Minho aggressively start shaking his head side to side,trying to evade the younger evil hands.

After couple of minutes,Felix set olders hands free,laughing at how exhausted he looked. He's really looked like he has a 6 hour nonstop dance practice.

-Sorry, you were so cute..-Yongbok said,smiling, while comfortly stroking olders back

a bit short, i have two more requests ,so if you have one please send me it!

love you all

#kpop tickle #kpop tickling #kpop fic #sfw tk community #skz fic #skz tickle #tickle fic #stray kids tickle #stray kids fic

[cherryesskisses]

Fate Laid Differently In a Taxi Ride

Jake Lockley × fem desi!reader

Word count: 1k+ words

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This wasn’t the night that you had wished for.

When your boyfriend called you up in the afternoon to tell you that he would fetch you to take you out for dinner, you were beyond the moon. Both of you had been so busy for the past weeks that neither of you had been able to do anything together, be it indoors or outdoors. So you were excited and spent hours rummaging through your wardrobe, trying on one dress to another. Finally, you settled on the black cami dress, satin and fitted against your figure, that you remembered your boyfriend liked. Your face was covered with makeup and your dark, raven hair flowed freely down your back. No matter how modern your outfit may be, you would always love to adorn yourself with accessories of your Desi culture—a simple matching set of Jhumka drop earrings and necklace.

Basically, you were dressed over the top, not just to please your boyfriend but yourself. You deserved a good night and having yourself pampered. Soon enough, your boyfriend came by minutes after and off you two went to your favourite italian restaurant. You were pleased at how the night came to be.

So the outcome of the night wasn’t what you were expecting.

Here you were sitting opposite of your boyfriend, who started off sweet and romantic in the beginning, but now looked guilty and sad like someone who just committed a crime.

“I’m sorry, y/n, but I actually want to break things off with you.”

Your heart shattered into pieces and you felt yourself becoming one with rage and disappointment. Tears were already free flowing down your cheeks and without replying, you stood up from your chair and headed out. Deep down, you were hoping that he would chase after you but after more than 20 minutes of walking down the sidewalk, you realised he wouldn’t be chasing after you.

You wanted to break down and cry from the pain you felt but you were not the type to cry in public, or at least you tried your best not to. So quickly you hailed down a taxi and entered the vehicle to hide your messy self. The moment you sat down at the back seat, you couldn’t even bring yourself to speak or look up. You stared down at your lap, hoping that the night would just swallow you whole. Without realising the taxi began to move even though you had yet to mention a destination as you were drowning with waves of emotions.

The taxi moved smoothly and you couldn't even tell how long or when it began. Before you know it, your soft sobbing filled up the space inside the vehicle.

“Are you okay?” The taxi driver spoke soft, curious and you noticed the Spanish accent. Hearing his voice somehow calmed down your nerves a little and it made you look up. You could only see dark brown eyes through the rear-view mirror as they stared back at you. Somehow seeing them made you feel a little warm and safe even though you know nothing about this stranger.

“Just—” you laughed dryly, wiping the tears away with your fingers, “just stupid, stupid night is all.”

“Someone broke your heart.” It was a statement and not a question, as if he could read you through the dark of the night.

You wanted to deny at first but you chuckled and nodded. "Yeah."

"Your boyfriend?" He inquired as he swiftly took a left.

"Ex-boyfriend." You corrected him with a slight edge to your tone. Remembering your ex-boyfriend made your blood boil and hands curling up into fists—regretting that you didn't punch him before you left the restaurant.

"Lo siento, hermosa." The corners of his eyes crinkled up slightly. "Ex-boyfriend."

"He must have been a stupid guy to hurt a beautiful woman like you." The taxi driver added.

You shook your head as you felt warmth travelled through your cheeks at the sudden compliments—you knew basic Spanish to understand him speaking in that language. Tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, you somehow jumped to the first thought in your mind. "Have you been a taxi driver for a while now?"

He seemed amused at the question before shrugging his shoulders. "For as long as I can remember, yes. As a taxi driver, you meet many people. Bad, good, rude, kind—you name it. You would either chat with them or say nothing."

It felt weird that you found yourself captivated with his voice; it was calming and playful too, and hidden with untold stories. Not to mention that the Spanish accent lured you in further even without seeing his face fully.

"Besides that, there are also times when some passengers forget to tell where they wanna go and I just drive around."

It took you a few minutes to take his words in and fully understand the meaning. When you did, you gasped and cursed yourself in your mother tongue at your foolishness, smacking your forehead in embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry. It slipped out of my mind." You muttered softly but loud enough that he laughed. His laughter made you smile though you suppressed yourself—at least, you thought you did.

"It's okay. I don't mind accompanying a beautiful passenger like you." He quipped while winking at you through the rear-view mirror. Again, you blushed like a teenage girl. Then you proceeded to tell your address and he redirected the route to your neighbourhood.

The ride to your apartment was filled with chatters between you two. Random questions were easily exchanged and the both of you talked as if you had met one another before. So when he finally pulled up outside of your apartment building, you felt your heart sunken in despair. You didn’t want to end the night and wanted nothing more but to continue talking with the taxi driver. Yet, you knew better than to keep someone from doing their job especially when the night was still long. With a reluctant heart, you pulled out a couple of bills from your purse to hand them over to him.

“Hermosa, it’s fine. Keep the money. I don’t need it.”

“But—”

He let out a charming chuckle as he fixed the flat cap on his head; with the help of the lights outside, you can see a bit more of his handsome features that were causing your heart to race a mile.

“Maybe..” he paused and flickered his eyes upwards back to the rear-view mirror to look at you, “you’d like to go on a dinner with me as payment instead?”

His suggestion caused both of your brows to raise up out of surprise and also the fact that your mouth almost agreed as quickly as you heard it.

“My ma told me not to say yes to strangers.” You replied with a hint of playfulness and seriousness mixed together in your voice and it was visible on your features.

“Then we best make ourselves acquainted, right?” He replied with a hum.

Maybe you should be more wary of him. After all, you only knew him for less than an hour, or was it less than 30 minutes—either way, you should have been more careful of the taxi driver. But you couldn’t help yourself from wanting to know him better and accepting his offer.

Turning around from his seat, you finally saw his face properly and you were correct, he was ravishingly good looking, and your heart stuttered a beat.

Offering you the most charming smile that one can have, he extended his hand to you as if to seal the deal of your fate to be entwined with him.

“I’m Jake.”

You did what your heart told you and shook his hand.

“I’m y/n.”

This wasn't the night you wished for but you didn't mind a bit.

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Translation:

Lo siento: I'm sorry

Hermosa: Beautiful

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A/N: I wasn't sure if I correctly portray Jake Lockley but this is how I envisioned he'd be with someone he finds interesting. Hopefully, I did him justice! If not, I'm sorry—😭

Also, I'm not a desi girl but this is made specially for my dear friend!

Happy belated birthday gift and Happy Deepavali @jake-g-lockley <333

#jake lockley imagines #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x desi!reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x fem!reader #moon knight #moon knight headcanons #marc spector x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockely x reader #moon knight fluff #marvel moon knight #steven grant x reader #jake lockley #moon knight series #moon knight headcanon #moon knight smut #moon knight system #moon knight x reader #moon knight 2022 #moon boys #marvels moon knight #moonknight

[melishade]

prompt # 20

This ask game

I focus a lot on the dynamics between Armin, Mikasa, and Megatron in the main timeline, but not the Dark Timeline. Let's fix that.

Armin and Mikasa couldn't help but notice how defeated Megatron looked, and how he was clearly hiding it.

The arrival of Shockwave and the capture of Optimus Prime had sent everyone into a panic. Megatron had told the Survey Corps that they had a week to get their affairs in order before returning to help, but Armin and Mikasa had no family left. Eren had already started training with Megatron, and the trio had started living together in a home once again.

But Megatron's situation had become unique. He had gone from distancing himself from the Walls, to becoming the stand in Commander of the Survey Corps. Hanji had shut themselves in, and Megatron was the only real advantage they had against Shockwave. He was the only one who knew the most about him, and has had experience leading in a war. And Levi was willing to follow his command, which scared them in more ways than one.

Still, the duo noticed just how exhausted Megatron was. They found him in his holoform, hunched over a table. His back was to them, and the room that Megatron was in was a mess. It was old equipment and papers, but Megatron unleashed his anger on everything in sight in this secluded area. Broken furniture, shredded paper, something got lodged into the wall, and they were certain the wall was brick, not wood.

Armin and Mikasa looked at each other in concern. Should they say something? They did need to ask him for help, and he needed to be called into a meeting, but-!

"Say your peace and leave." Armin and Mikasa jolted at the sound of Megatron's voice, "I will deal with it later."

Armin looked down at the mess on the floor and took a deep breath before taking a step forward. Armin flinched when he stepped on some broken glass.

"I said to go," Megatron ordered.

"...Megatron," Mikasa began, "We-!"

Armin took a step back when Megatron grip on the wooden table tightened before snapping it into pieces.

"...I am still tired and angry," Megatron warned, "I do not want to take that out on you. Please go."

Armin was about to retort, but Mikasa grabbed him and pulled him out of the room.

"Mikasa, we can't-!" Mikasa placed a finger over her mouth before sitting him down on the floor by the door and away from view.

"Wait," Mikasa suggested in a hushed tone. Armin decided to follow Mikasa's advice, and the two of them waited patiently by the door. They didn't know how long they waited for. Minutes. Hours. But after moments of silence, they heard a sigh of defeat from inside the room.

"I told you to leave," Megatron called for them. Armin and Mikasa stood up and entered the room to see Megatron standing up straight. However, he didn't face them.

"We just...," Armin trailed off, "We wanted to...are you okay?"

Megatron didn't reply, causing Armin to recoil.

"Right, that's...a stupid question." Armin rubbed his arm.

"...I'll never be...'okay'," Megatron confessed.

Armin and Mikasa could see the way that Megatron's shoulders were shaking. They saw Megatron raise a hand to his face and clench it. He looked ready to just crush the holoform. Megatron...he must be trying so hard to hold it together, but he just looked ready to collapse in anguish. How could they blame him for that? He must be going through so much inner turmoil right now.

Mikasa was the one who braved the storm and took the first step. Then another, and another. She avoided making a single noise as she made it directly behind Megatron. She hesitated for a moment before she hugged him from behind. Armin saw the former warlord grow rigid in Mikasa's embrace, but...he didn't shun her away from this moment of unexpected comfort. Megatron's lack of reaction, gave Armin the courage to step forward to Megatron. He didn't embrace Megatron when he reached him. He merely placed a hand on Megatron's arm. Armin managed to get a glimpse at Megatron's face, and saw tears at the corner of his eye. Armin decided to look away. That was not his to share or ask about.

(101 has been asked, but everything else is free game.)

#attack on prime #transformers prime #tfp #attack on titan #snk #asks #aot #shingeki no kyojin #send me asks #ao3 #tfp megatron #megatron #armin arlert #mikasa ackerman #dialogue prompt #writing dialogue #dialogue prompts #maccadam #macadam #what if tfp shockwave was in aop aka the dark timeline