#Tina just wait one more semester

[gildengirl]

"Tina Walters swears there's a top secret boy's school somewhere in Maine, and every year she petitions my mom to let us take a field trip."

Seriously, who are Tina Walter's sources?

#rereading LYKY #every time I read this I laugh #Tina just wait one more semester #Gallagher Girls #Gallagher Girls Series #LYKY

[pandorasprongs]

INTERLUDE | are we still friends?

'it's nice to have a friend' fic masterlist + playlist | previous chapter

PAIRING: jamie tartt x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.2k

SUMMARY: after months of ghosting, reader finally gets to talk to jamie again at the end of her second year.

WARNINGS: language

A/N: so we're going back in time to when reader's in uni and early in jamie's man city career :) hope u all enjoy! (also i know frats aren't a thing in the uk but i didn't find that out till after i published the prologue rip) i'd also suggest listening to 'are we still friends?' by tyler the creator for this chapter too just for the vibes — also!! thank you so much for 200 followers it's insane so many of you enjoy my fics :))

Age 19

"And that's it for this semester! Congrats everyone!" Your professor greets the room as the last person finishes their presentation. The room cheers, — albeit weakly given that most of the students there were coming down from their finals week caffeine addiction, — and everyone soon starts filing out.

You pass by your professor on the way out with Liv and hand her the trinket that the two of you planned on giving out to all of the professors you've had this semester. Some out of gratitude, some to make them feel guilty for the low marks they've given. This certain professor, a lady in her mid-40s who has been in the STEM area of research for years, had designated the two of you her favorites.

"Thank you so much, ladies. It was such a pleasure having the two of you in my class." You both give her a warm smile before heading into the hall. 

When you make it outside of the building, Liv lets out a cathartic scream of relief. "It's finally done!" You laugh at your friend's reaction. You were glad too, but not enough to yell in public.

As you headed back to your student hall, you pulled out your phone. It had become routine to message Jamie every time you were heading back to Manchester, which you were the next week when your parents picked you up.

Hey Jamie! How've you been? How's Man City? Saw the match with Cardiff, you did great.

You press send before adding on, If you're still here, maybe you want to meet up before you go back? I'm heading back to Manchester next week too if you want to meet up then instead. 

You send that too and type out I miss you, but after glancing at the rest of your unread messages, you delete it and sigh in defeat.

You don't even know why you're still trying. You haven't spoken to Jamie in months. No, it's almost been a year. The last time you did was when you went home for the summer holiday after your first year of uni, but even then, Jamie seemed distant and cold. He left the lunch early too after he got a call from his manager, much to your dismay. Even before that, his messages to you were getting less and less frequent till he finally stopped replying a few months into your second year.

Maybe it stung more knowing it was around the time you left that you realized how really felt about him. It wasn't just platonic love anymore; you might've actually been in love with your best friend then. But those feelings have since disappeared, at the same rate that Jamie disappeared from your life.

So now you were in a pub, supposedly celebrating the end of your second year in uni, but you couldn't stop staring at your phone, waiting for a reply. You've been re-reading your message to him and staring at that delivered in the corner until you finally broke out of the trance thanks to one of your friends calling out to you.

"Oi! You're not even tipsy. Are you playing or not?" Tina asks and you shut your phone before shifting your focus to the conversation. Right, you're playing Never Have I Ever.

"Shit, sorry," you apologize before lifting your hand. "I am now. What's the last one?"

"It was never have I ever slept with a footballer," Liv explains quickly, but the entire group had this knowing look on their faces that told you everything they thought of you.

Maybe it was fueled by the anger directed at said footballer or the fact that you knew they all thought you were a prude for not having hooked up with anyone the whole time in uni, — as far as they knew, — but you give them a knowing look that caused everyone's expressions to shift.

"No fucking way, you have?" Sam asks and you take a shot as confirmation.

"Technically yes," you explain but decide to hide which player it was. Because if they knew it was one of the up-and-comings of the Premier League, you'd never hear the end of it. Plus, one of them was bound to snitch to a newspaper for sure. "Back when I was 17 and before I left for uni, I slept with someone who ended up getting scouted." You neglect to mention that someone was your best friend, who agreed to be your first time because you were sure you'd make a bad decision the moment you stepped foot in a uni.

If they knew where you were from, they would've figured it out instantly. But you didn't have a Mancunian accent and none of them had ever bothered to ask where you were from over these two years — except Liv, who was no longer paying attention to the whole game and just scrolling on her phone, — so you were basically in the clear.

They moved on from your grand revelation quickly and continued with the game. At the end of it, you were probably the most sober out of all of them, so you ordered a Cosmopolitan. Maybe alcohol led to bad decisions, but at least it kept you off your phone.

You continued to talk with your friends till Tina gasped. You all turn to her to ask what happened when she exclaims, pretty loudly, "Looks like all of us have a chance at checking 'hooking up with a footballer' off our lists tonight." She giggles before leaning back into her seat.

You join the rest of them to look at what Tina had just seen and realize that not one, but two teams' worth of players had just walked into the pub. From Cardiff City and... Man City.

You already feel your heartbeat quickening and your eyes instantly start looking for Jamie in the crowd. The thoughts of 'he has to be here,' and 'he can't be here,' battle it out in your head, but when your eyes finally land on your former best friend, you don't know if the butterflies in your stomach are a good thing or not.

"Well, fuck it." You hear one of the girls you're with say as she downs another shot and gets up from the table. Some of the others join her in the group, but you're still frozen from nerves. Best way to heat up? More cocktails.

You watch with the other girls from a distance as the braver ones take their chances with the footballers on the other side of the bar. But for most of it, you can't take your eyes off Jamie. 

He looks really different, like bad different. He's loud and boisterous, but not in the way he was before. You watch how he talks to his teammates and you can almost see how his overconfidence masks the level of insecurity he has with much older players. Or maybe you're overthinking it. You haven't seen him in a while.

When your friends get back to the table along with some new drinks and stories, you try and listen intently. But you really couldn't stop looking behind them.

You don't think Jamie's felt your eyes on him, so you weren't worried he'd turn and see you staring. But if he did, you wondered how he'd react. Would he go wide-eyed and stare back or just look away as if he didn't just spot his best friend of a decade at a pub? You were about to find out.

After downing one of the drinks in front of you, — you weren't even sure if you were the one who ordered that one, to be honest — you excuse yourself from the table. When they saw where you were walking over to, they decided to start cheering. It did help your nerves, even though you were approaching them for different reasons.

"Jamie!" You get his attention and the moment his eyes land on yours, shock fills his face. You almost scoff at that. He goes to the place where you're studying and assumes that he wouldn't run into you?

You didn't even plan out what you were going to say, so instead you sarcastically greet, "Nice to see you here. In Cardiff. Where I go to uni."

Jamie doesn't say anything and just continues to stare at you. His cocky facade almost slips too, till one of the other Man City players rests his arms on Jamie's shoulders and he suddenly tenses. You've seen him before, probably in one of those tabloid articles, judging from his overall demeanor. He seemed like the type to get into those scandals.

"Ah fuck, I thought we got rid of you lot already. Don't you have enough drinks from your friends over there?" George, you finally remembered his name, states and you're taken aback. He must've seen you coming from that direction.

"No, I'm not here for that." You answer bluntly before turning back to Jamie, starting to get annoyed. "Are you seriously not going to say anything?" 

The Jamie you knew would be the first to defend you, even if it was just over someone knocking into you in the halls or stealing your pens. But it wasn't that you were after, honestly. You just wanted him to say something, anything at all.

"You know her, Tartt?" George scoffs and looks at Jamie. When Jamie continues to stay silent and just looks down at his feet, he chuckles and nudges the younger footballer. "A past hook-up, huh? Judging by your reaction. No need to be embarrassed, Jamie," he glances back at you and tries to whisper, "She's quite fit. Well, by your standards."

You roll your eyes, the anger starting to bubble. Now, Jamie had to say something right? But seeing no reaction, you correct him yourself. "Look, I'm not one of his bitter exes. I'm his..." You actually don't how to end that sentence.

George takes advantage of your pause and by now, some of the footballers around them had turned their attention to the scene. "Look woman, I don't care who you are to him, but take. the. fucking. hint."

You still don't remove your eyes from him. "Jamie," you whisper, almost pleading at that point.

Jamie looks up and seeing the multiple eyes on him at the moment, he finally speaks up, "You want an autograph or something? We're trying to enjoy our night, so I'll sign a napkin for you and you can be on your way."

The coldness in his response causes you to stumble and you take a step back. What did he just say to you? You try and search his face for any sign of remorse or guilt. Something that says, 'Please don't hate me, I didn’t mean it.' Nothing.

The sounds of the other footballers laughing don’t help either; it only contributes to the rising feeling of heat and embarrassment in you. You can feel the tears starting to form. There's no reason for you to break down in front of all of them, so you answer quickly, "Right. No need. Sorry for disturbing your night." 

You turn around quickly, but not without hearing George ask Jamie who you were. For a second, you almost thought he'd give him the truth.

"Dunno, probably some fan I met before." That breaks the dam and the first few tears drop to your cheeks. A crying girl isn't an irregular sight at a bar, but you really didn't feel like staying in the same place as Jamie anymore.

You approach the table to grab your things when you notice that most of your friends had already scattered across the pub. The only one left there was Liv, — who was the designated driver for tonight despite your university being a 5-minute walk away — who notices your tear-stained face and is quick to rush over to you. "What's wrong? What happened?"

You shake your head. "Don't worry. I just want to head back." Liv hadn't even known you for two years, but she knew that you weren't one to talk about your feelings. Instead, she nodded and offered to help you out of the pub, but you shook your head once again. You had a relatively high limit and partner it with what just happened with Jamie, you were practically sober. You grabbed your clutch and coat before rushing out of the place, furiously wiping the teams from your face.

Fuck Jamie Tartt. Fuck those Man City losers. Fuck everyone involved in turning your best friend into whoever that was. The boy you once knew was gone. Fully and completely gone. You had to accept that.

But even then, you thought you'd hear the door open behind you. You thought it would be Jamie. You thought he'd chase after you. You thought he'd pull you into a hug. You thought he'd apologize for what he did and for everything. You thought he'd cradle your face as he did so. You thought he'd plant a tender kiss on your lips as an apology too. You thought he'd re-enter your life as if nothing had changed.

But he did none of that. 

And you went home alone.

—

"(Y/N)? It's Liv, again!" You hear from the other side of your door, but make no attempt to move from your position in your bed. It was just too comfortable, perfect for wallowing in when you've officially ended the longest friendship you've ever had. Liv continues, "I'm heading home soon, but I asked Donna if she could keep bringing food for you to your door till you head home."

You were touched by the gesture but knew you weren't going to touch any of those bags till late at night when the hall was completely deserted. Till then, you'd be sleeping. Your parents had delayed picking you up till the last day and you've never been more glad about that.

"See you next semester! Love you!" were Liv's parting words and once you heard her footsteps recede, you fell back to sleep.

In all honestly, you've lost track of time at that point. Yeah, it was pathetic sitting in your room as if you were mourning the death of a loved one, but it's not like anyone cared. Well, Liv did, which is why she started bringing you food when she realized you weren't leaving your room, but she was heading home to London. Your parents had no idea what happened and you intended to keep it that way. The rest of your friends were off with their own lives, not even giving you a second thought. Jamie sure as hell didn't care what happened to you. He made that clear.

So for the rest of your time left in the hall, you just stayed in your room. Like a hermit. Jamie would've found it funny, you thought once, till it caused you to burst into tears once again. The more you tried to forget Jamie, the more you thought of him, which was the worst loop you could be in.

He's even in your dreams. One of them felt so real because you were in your exact position in reality when your phone rang. You saw his name as the caller, but 'dream you' just pressed decline. Even deleted the missed call notification. Good for her.

Then, you wake up to a missed call and a text from your mom. On route to Cardiff! Can't wait to see you, sweetie. 

Ah, fuck. Had that much time really passed? You jumped out of your bed and start fixing up. Technically, you had 3 and a half hours to do so, but counting showering, cleaning up your suitcases from your dusty closet, and shoving almost a years worth of items into said suitcases, then you were in a bind and never prayed for traffic more in your life.

And from the sheer fear of your parents giving you a sermon in front of the entire building, you almost forgot about your former state of wallowing in self-pity. Then you were faced with taking down the decorations on your wall. 

There was a mix of everything from school banners, even flyers, and pictures you'd taken with your friends and parents. You started with those first until the only ones left were the ones related to Jamie. You had pictures with him from multiple stages of your life. There was one from the first football match of his you ever attended and one from your graduation, too. 

You had kept the note he made you when you were 16 and you joined your first individual debate tournament. ‘Fucking smash it!’ was scrawled in his handwriting on a post-it note, which you've hung on your wall since your first year of uni. 

Even the rings he used to buy you for your birthday till his mom told him to find something new. You slowly pulled them from your desk drawer and realized there were only four. One missing. They were old anyway. You end up shrugging it off and placing them into your suitcase.

When you started inserting the rest of the items into an envelope, you continue to look at that picture with Jamie from when you were seven. Suddenly overcome by an emotion — rage, pity, nostalgia, you're not really sure, — you crumple it with your two hands and hold it like that for a few seconds. 

You finally let go and see the two distorted faces, you're suddenly overcome by feelings of guilt. 7-year-old Jamie didn't do anything wrong; what was the point of taking your frustrations on a picture of him? Maybe you can throw darts at a printed photo of the current Jamie when you get home instead.

You flatten the picture as best you can before putting it back into the pile in the envelope. You finish packing your desk and place all the items into one of your suitcases. You look around the room, satisfied. Sure, your sheets weren't made yet, but you were going to leave the place anyway and you needed to shower. It was 40 minutes till your parents would knock on your door, — as seen in the picture they sent of the GPS — so it was more than enough for you to get ready.

Time passed by quickly and soon, your dad was helping bring your bags down to the car while your mom talked about how much weight you've lost while you were away, like they always did. 

"Oh! Jamie, he had a game against Cardiff last week, right?" Your dad remembers as he starts the car. You almost freeze at the name, but turn to look out the window to avoid your parents catching whatever expression you had on your face. You were too tired to mask it properly.

"Yes, he was amazing!" Your mom exclaimed before asking. "Georgie said she told him to meet up with you here. Did he?"

"No," you answered quickly. You never lied to your parents, which is probably why they accepted your response so easily. You don't look back at them and continue to look at the passing trees. "Must've been busy."

A/N: yeah... and there you go! here's what happened that night in the pub and hopefully it makes me much more clear why reader still holds something against jamie! we're going back to the present day timeline for the next one so stay tuned!

TAGLIST: @moonflowersandsparkles @faith-alons26 @rexorangecouny @aiyaiy @thegirlthatwantedtowrite @giggling-sewer-ginger @katdahlali @higherthanheroes @guccilongboard @alipap3 @rockchickrebel @ellietartt @shineforever19 @skewedcherries @jamietarttdodo @meg-ro @deepdarkvelvet @taytaylala12 @scaramou @rae4725 @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo (couldn't tag you for some reason?)

#jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt reader #ted lasso #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt fic #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfic #jamie tartt angst #jamie tartt x f!reader #jamie tartt x female reader #it's nice to have a friend series

[thegreencanary]

Hands off

Based on this request!!

TW: This is a HEAVY one. Please take these seriously! Sexual Assault, drugs, smoking, Cursing, Fighting, Blood, light Smut; MINORS YOU BETTER GET OUT OF HERE. This is not for you. DNI

Summary: Jason Carver has his eyes on you and no matter what you do, he wont stop until he has you…or so he thinks

A/N: This is a pretty dark one guys, so please, please, please take the trigger warnings seriously. I will not be offended at all if you skip reading over this because it may be too upsetting. Mental health is more important babes!! It’s a lot of fluff with a bit of angst.

Just one day, for the love of God, you wanted just one day of school where the basketball team didn’t swarm your locker or harass you at lunch. You’d managed to get by most of your semester without anyone paying attention to you; until Billy Hargrove started dating you. There was some weird rivalry between him and Jason Carver. They fought over tables at lunch, parking spots, game plays and most of all: you. There was no competition in your eyes, Billy was clearly the better option. Most people didn’t understand that because he was a bit of an asshole but not to you. Robin Buckley was one of your best friends and the two of you got dragged into the Upside Down drama, and Billy started to trust you more and more. Long story short, you were there for him through Neil, Max trusted you and he learned how to be vulnerable around you. Jason Carver made Pussy jokes and groped you at any given moment, to you it was a clear winner. Billy was the right one for you, but no matter how much you told Jason to Fuck off he just came back harder and harder. Today, he was leaning against your locker and waiting for you, you always got to school early to tutor some kids. Billy would usually meet you when the other kids showed up but Jason decided to be early today.

“Move Carver.”

He smirked and moved so you could open your locker, leaning on his shoulder he grabbed a strand of your hair and you smacked it off.

“Hello to you too Y/N”

“Fuck off Carver”

You pulled your locker open and grabbed a few things, there was a Polaroid of you and Billy that always made you smile, and Jason grabbed it.

“Give it back Asshole.”

“Make me.”

“Jason I swea-“

“Carver. I know you’re not bothering my girlfriend. Especially at her locker when I told you to never talk to her again.”

You chuckled and smiled as Billy came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Relief and safety washed over you, there was something about his arms that just made you feel untouchable to the outside world. Jason dropped the picture and scoffed.

“I’m just reminding your bitch what she’s missing out on.”

You tightly held Billy’s arms to you as you felt him try to pull away after Jason called you a bitch. He wasn’t worth getting into a fight with and you just wanted to spend the rest of your morning with your boyfriend. Jason walked away as if he had won something and you rolled your eyes, finally letting Billy release you.

“One day I’m gonna shut my locker on his face.”

You chuckled as you bent down to get the photo. Billy hadn’t seen it before, he never liked being photographed; and you didn’t either but this one photo of the two of you laughing in a hug was special. Billy looked so carefree and you looked so in love with him. This time Billy grabbed the photo and you rolled your eyes.

“Can I please have that back?”

He was quiet as he looked at it. Pulling his wallet out, he put the photo in there.

“No.”

Billy smiled and pulled you in for a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that made you wish you were in the privacy of your own room. He had a way of making your body react with the simplest of actions. The noise of the school starting to fill with students faded away and all you could focus on was Billy’s body on yours. He pulled away and you stood there breathless.

“I’ll pick you up tonight for Tina’s party okay? Don’t…I know Carver will be there so, don’t wander too far from me okay? We both know how fucking stupid he is.”

You nodded, still not fully able to speak. Billy smirked and kissed your cheek, winking at you. He whispered in your ear and you almost smacked him.

“You look good today baby.”

“Billy I swear to God, unless you’re going to pull me into a room and fuck me right now you better stop.”

He chuckled and stood there considering it. You grabbed your books and shut your locker.

“Oh my god that wasn’t a suggestion!”

You laughed and kissed him shortly, then headed to your class. You could feel Him staring at you with a smile as you walked away.

————————————

You sighed as you looked at your two outfit options. The cute short leather skirt and Def Leppard shirt looked great with it but Jason’s annoying ass voice was in the back of your head. He as uncomfortable confident wandering hands all day at school and it made you want to go with option two, a sweater and some jeans. Yea it was hot but you’d planned on staying inside for the party. You were pissed that a stupid boy made you so uncomfortable that you wanted to change what you wore. Shaking off the thought you grabbed the leather skirt and put the outfit on. The mirror reminded you that you didn’t need to worry about what Jason Carver thought. You were hot, and this was Billy’s payback for teasing you in the morning. You were going to have fun with him tonight, other basketball Jock’s be damned.

You heard your door open, your little brother must have let Billy in the house. He let out a low whistle as you tied up your doc martens.

“I think we can skip the party…”

You chuckled at his comment. Standing you fluffed your hair one time and turned towards him.

“Where’s the fun in that? Am I driving tonight or are you?”

You two always picked a DD. He’d had enough issues of drinking too much and driving home, almost killing the both of you after one party. It shook him enough to change how you two went out together. He shrugged.

“Up to you. It’s early so we can both have a few and if you want to go hard I can ease up.”

You rolled your eyes, that meant you’d be driving. It didn’t bother you because you didn’t like getting drunk at Tina’s parties anyways; but he could at least just own up to wanting to get drunk.

“Cool, give me your keys.”

He just chuckled and threw the keys at you.

“God I…you’re great.”

“I know.”

You got goosebumps because you thought he was going to say the L word finally, but not yet. He smacked your ass and you let out a giddy Yelp as you two end to the car and drove to the party.

Holy hell party was an understatement. It was a fully blown rave damn near. How Tina got away with this shit blew your mind but there had to be kids from other towns and schools because the front lawn was even packed. You parked Billy’s precious car a few houses down, just in case someone wanted to try and get stupid and do something to it. The pair of you walked in, his arm around your shoulder and your arm around his waist. Part of the benefit of dating Hawkins royalty was the sea of kids parting for Billy to get inside. Almost immediately the two of you had a beer in your hands, you’d have 1 maybe 2 while Billy would round out 15-20. You felt uneasy for a moment and looking around you couldn’t figure out why, so you tried to shake it off. Tonight was for Billy and you.

“22…..23……24……25…..26….27…..28….29….30!!!!”

Billy was getting cheered on as he did his famous Keg Stand. You were right there cheering alongside him but you had to pee.

“Hey Steve, if he finishes can you tell him I’ll be right back? I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Sure thing. Want me to hold your drink for you?”

“No, it’s almost empty and I don’t want anyone giving me another so I’m just gonna act like it’s full. I’m driving tonight.”

“You’re a freaking genius you know that?”

“Just looking out for the people I care about.”

Steve smiled at you and nudged you to go. You hit one more cigarette puff and headed inside. People knew who you were but they didn’t part for you like they did for Billy; instead they swarmed you and all tried to talk to you. It took about 3 minutes but you managed to get to the bathroom. Filling your drink with water after peeing, you took a deep breath and headed back out. Someone bumped into you and spilled your drink all over your shirt.

“What the fuck!”

No one around looked like they were responsible, and a perky young freshman girl came up to you with another drink.

“Oh my God that guy was an ass. Here!”

You sighed. Two beers should be fine, you took it and thanked her. She looked like you just gave her $1,000. Chuckling, you tried to find your way back to Billy.

———————————-

7 minutes had passed, maybe, but you were on the floor. The drink had to have had something in it. You couldn’t stand, or even talk. Everyone just chalked it up to you being drunk but you felt like everything was blurry. Leaning against the wall you sat trying to make yourself small, if you just waited it out…

“Well well well. The queen of Hawkins on her knees.”

No fucking way. You tried to cover your face with your hands but Jason was bigger than you and he just picked you up.

“N….o. Help….me.”

You tried to reach out but your body was moving too slow. Jason just shushed you and took you upstairs, the place you would go with Billy when you two got heated at the parties. Jason opened a door and a couple was already topless but Jason kicked them out. He locked the door.

“Stop….”

You tried to roll away when he threw you on the bed but again…your damn body wouldn’t move. You felt him rip your shirt open and hot tears flowed down your face. He groped you, pulling your bra up so your chest was fully exposed. His lips attacked you and you did all you could do…cry.

—————-

Billy was fucking mad. You were supposed to stay with him the whole night. Harrington said you went to the bathroom but that was like 20 minutes ago. Billy’s buzz was gone, he’d sobered up looking for you, and even had Harrington looking. People seemed to forget you even existed, until Billy noticed a freshman girl looking scared shitless when he approached.

“Hey beautiful, you haven’t seen my girlfriend have you?”

He tried to ease her nerves by flirting a bit. She was fuckin shaking.

“Umm. She was over in the corner on the floor. I think Jason is taking care of her. He took her upstairs. She looked really fucked up.”

Billy’s heart dropped.

“CARVER!!”

He YELLED. Most people didn’t stop partying but Billy didn’t see him, he had to still be upstairs with you. Running up, Billy began damn near kicking doors down until he got to a locked one.

——————-

His hands were tougher than Billy’s. He toyed with your skirt and pushed it up, exposing your lace underwear.

“For me? Oh baby you shouldn’t have.”

His hand ghosted over your core when the door was broken open.

“You’re dead Carver.”

Billy wasn’t a musical man but his voice sounded like a choir of Angels. You managed to pull yourself up after about a minute and a half. You were 1/2 naked and exposed, red hickies on your body from Jason’s unwanted kisses. It was all so god damn blurry but Billy and Jason were fighting. You tried to cover yourself but you were too weak.

“Oh my god Y/N….”

Robin. Thank fucking God Robin was there. Steve must have found her. She put your bra right and pulled your skirt down. Whoever’s room you were in had a closet and Robin grabbed a random t-shirt. It was 4 sizes too big but it covered your ripped clothes.

The boys were still fighting. You felt sick. Robin was trying to lift you when Steve came in. He didn’t need context to know what happened. Everyone knew, Jason drugged you and tried to rape you. Steve’s job was to keep Billy from killing Jason.

“Billy! Stop! He’s fucking unconscious man!”

“I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”

Each word was emphasized with a punch. Billy was plenty bloody from Jason’s hits but he was the Hawkins king for a reason. Steve grabbed Billy and forced him to look at you.

“Fucking help her get home man. We will deal with Carver.”

Steve wasn’t the best of friends with Billy originally but after Starcourt they got pretty close. Billy would never admit it, but he liked Steve, and god damn he was smart for focusing Billy on you. Robin was holding you, trying to calm you and you were crying still.

“I got her Robin.”

He felt in your skirt pocket and grabbed his keys. The adrenaline washing any excess alcohol out of him, he picked you up and carried you to the car. Leaving Steve to make sure Jason wasn’t dead. Billy didn’t care. He’d go to jail for you…but you’d be left without him, unprotected. He couldn’t do that to you.

“It’s okay baby. I’m here. I’m here.”

It was settling in. The image of Jason over your exposed body…his hand almost in your pants…Billy was the one crying now. He reached the car and gently placed you inside. You reached for him as he went to go to the driver side.

“I’m…so…rry”

Billy brought his lips to yours, bending down to kiss you deeply.

“You did nothing wrong baby. NOTHING. I should have been there. I shouldn’t have let you get….I should have been there.

The drive home was silent and thankfully your parents were asleep when he got you home. Like most parents in Hawkins, they never cared if Billy spent the night or where their daughter was on nights. He gently removed your clothes and A fresh set of tears hit you both as the red hickies painted your skin. Billy got you in the tub and bathed you, cleaning your hair and helping take your makeup off. He knew you’d feel dirty anyways but he just wanted to help. You mumbled apologies and cried as he took care of you. His only response was soft kisses and kind words.

“I… love you.”

You mumbled as he tucked you in, wearing one of his big t-shirts to bed. He smiled at the words, but they were for the morning.

——————-

Sure enough the morning came and you woke up with a pounding headache. Running to the bathroom you almost put your stomach into the toilet. You felt Billy’s hand on your back, and after successfully removing your entire contents in your stomach you looked to him.

“How did we get home? I’m so sorry I must have gotten plastered last night… I don’t remember pretty much anything after I got my second beer.”

It didn’t register how wounded he was until after you stopped talking.

“Billy? Baby what happened? Are you okay?”

You felt like shit, by far and away the worst hangover you’ve ever had. You got up and brushed your teeth, patiently waiting for Billy to tell you what happened. He just hugged you from behind.

“Billy? Honey who did you fight?”

“Carver.”

Normally his name had some hate attached to it but this time Billy said it with venom. You sighed and turned, sitting on the sink and pulled Billy to stand in between your legs. You tilted his chin.

“Well he got a few good ones in, but you don’t look too bad. What did he do this time?”

Jason face filled your mind but it was an expression you didn’t remember. You shook it off and refocused on Billy. He’d only ever looked this upset when he was in the hospital after the mall incident.

“Baby? Are you okay?”

Your voice was so soft and Billy began to cry again. You were shocked, but you didn’t know what he had to tell you. He had to tell you that you were drugged because he wasn’t with you. He didn’t find you in time and Jason had gotten to you first.

“You went to the bathroom…I figured you’d be back, Harrington said you’d be back… but you weren’t. I went looking for you, and someone…someone said you upstairs with Jason.”

He felt you go rigid. His arms wrapped around you tighter, and his dropped gaze moved to your shoulder as he rested his head on you. He couldn’t see your face as he told you.

“I got there as fast as I could…he had drugged you. You were…he ripped your top. He touched you, I didn’t let finish though.”

A heavy silence sat in your small bathroom. You felt claustrophobic, like the walls were suffocating you; but your crying boyfriend pulled you back. Jason tried to rape you, and Billy saved you. He was blaming himself for everything.

“Oh baby. Billy it’s not your fault. You can’t be with me every second of the day. Baby… look at me.”

Billy hesitated but he pulled his head from your shoulder. You were crying but your eyes were full of patience and love. God he loved you so much.

“Jason will get what he deserves. I’m okay because of you. Nothing that happened is your fault but I’m okay because of you.”

Billy kissed you softly. The air around you two got lighter.

“You kept apologizing. Like it was your fault. I wanted to kill him. I…I don’t know if I did or not.”

“We will cross that bridge if we get there, for now; we’re both okay. Alright? Billy, baby, I’m okay. I mean I feel like I just got hit by a train but I’m okay.”

He chuckled softly at your joke and you smiled. His desperation in his hold on you changed to a much more loving hug as he pulled you in again. Lifting you off the sink he took you back to bed.

“Y/N…I, last night you said something I wanted to say first, but I’ve been too scared because I can’t handle it if you don’t say it back.”

You chuckled. Looks like drugged up you is a lot more fearless than you are normally.

“I love you Billy Hargrove.”

“Thank fucking God. I love you too”

The day was lazy. The two of you spent it in bed eating and watching movies. He did most of the eating because you felt awful, but he was there the whole time. Steve called at one point; Jason was alive but in the hospital. He wasn’t going to say anything because he would be responsible for attempted rape. You were still going to press charges. Steve and Robin would be witnesses, Billy would probably be charged with assault but it was for protection so it would be dropped. You took a moment to look at the love of your life.

“Thank you Billy. For everything.”

“Shut up idiot. You’re the one I should be thanking. Stop being mushy and watch the damn movie.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead, and you laughed. The dark night was over and it was a beautiful sunset on the horizon.

——-

A/N: This is my work and I don’t give anyone the permission to post it anywhere claiming to be someone else’s. Thanks for reading!! Please interact ❤️🖤❤️

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy x reader #stranger things #billy could have been saved #billy x you #billy deserved better #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you

[klaineccfanficlibrary]

Hi! Could you recommend some mutual pining? Preferably not high school. Thanks

Here are some of the more recent stories in this trope, it's a good one! ~Jen

Rate my Professor By @kurtsascot

Rate My Professor exists. Kurt tries not to remember that, and, most days, he succeeds. But, on days like today, at the end of a semester from hell, with some of the most intelligent and equally infuriating students he has ever taught, Kurt finds that it’s easier to slip.

He caves and reads.

or: Two professors are pining for each other. Thanks to the internet, the tension breaks.

~~~~~

Beautiful, crazy By JButler

Kurt Hummel is beautiful and Blaine Anderson might be crazy in love...

~~~~~

Camp Klaine By @kirakiwiwrites

Kurt and Blaine are eagerly anticipating their last summer of theater camp together. Having been best friends since meeting at Sanford Theater Camp three years ago, they intend to make the most of this one. But this year, things feel different between them. Blaine’s starting to realize he might have a crush on his bestie while Kurt introduces everyone to his new boyfriend…

~~~~~

Indigo Dreams by @gleefulpoppet

[AU] Blaine Anderson is rich, revered in his profession, and a powerful man in New York. After years of what has become nothing more than a weekly routine, he takes selected clients and models to the trendy, upscale nightclub—Indigo Dreams—to wine, dine and entertain them. What happens when a new dancer takes center stage and captures Blaine’s soul with those beautiful color-changing eyes?

~~~~~ Measure for Measure by@teddyshoney

Blaine Anderson, the new band and choir director for McKinley High School, immediately feels a connection to Kurt Hummel, the English teacher, during their initial teacher in-service days. He wants to get to know him, and after a conversation with the art teacher, Tina Cohen-Chang, he finds out that Kurt is stand-offish with nearly everyone at school—except his students—and his only real friend is Mercedes. Spurred on by his feelings, Blaine decides to do something brash: give himself five days to win Kurt Hummel. After he learns more about what secret Kurt's been hiding, however, that might prove to be a taller order than he'd originally thought.

~~~~~

I'd cry a river just for you by maanorchidee @forabeatofadrum

Seven years ago, Kurt and Blaine had a huge fight that ended a ten year long friendship. Now they unexpectedly run into each other in another part of the world. Can they let go of the past?

~~~~~

Out of Eden by @wowbright

As a gay Mormon, Kurt Hummel has decided to go the rest of his life without falling in love. But toward the end of his two years as a missionary in Germany, Elder Anderson moves into his apartment—and Kurt's best-laid plans fall apart.

(It's not necessary to have read the previous works in this series to follow this one, or to read the works in order. I try to make most things understandable from context. You can start this and, if you like it, hop back to the earlier stories as you wait for new chapters to post.)

Also the author is regularly updating and adding to the story, including in this year's Advent challenge.

#klaine fanfiction #fic finder #mutual pining

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Tis the Damn Season

Day 7: Hall

AO3

Every day between studying for finals Blaine thought he’d pass Kurt somewhere on campus. There had to be some sort of overlap. He’d see him walking to class, at the library, in line for coffee, or just in the hall. But nothing.

His improv project with Tina went well. They scored the highest in the class with their skit about two people sitting at a bar with no bartender.

Intro to Tap nearly killed him. The whole class was graded together on how well they executed certain skills from this whole semester. Called up one by one and you didn’t know which skill or motion was going to be given to you to perform in front of everyone.

Philosophy was a lot of writing. Blaine was pretty sure his hand cramps were never going away. And finally, math. Not much to say there. He got a B+ and that was fine by Blaine.

He was in his dorm listening to holiday music and packing for his month-long break. Cooper was flying in later this week. His parents were waiting to decorate the tree til both brothers were home. Blaine was excited to see them.

Blaine zipped his luggage and locked it. His flight was leaving tonight.

Campus was pretty empty by this point. Some students stayed over winter break. Others lived in the city already and were in no rush to make it home.

As Blaine’s break crept closer, the more hopeless he felt. Even still sitting at the airport waiting to board, he thought maybe I’ll spot Kurt.

Alas, he boarded his plane and watched New York disappear.

#december klaine challenge 2023 #klaine advent 2023 #prompt: hall #klaine fanfic

[thebirdandthebee]

Imagine Me & You

A Jake “Hangman” Seresin fic.

First time writing TGM fanfic - please be gentle.

Jake stumbles across a woman on base that seems to enjoy the finer things in life... just like the future he’d like to build - with her in it.

Thanks so much to all for the likes and comments, I’m having a blast writing this! Tonight’s chapter is over twice as long as all the rest and I think just what we’ve been looking for... It is, however, unedited, so apologies for any glaring mistakes.

Chapter 5: Come Back, Be Here

“And so what is this one supposed to do?” Mia asked, adjusting the small piece of cloth that was meant to cover the tip of her nose.

“Uh, I think yours is brighten and firm,” Tina called from the bathroom where she was affixing her own facemask between sips of wine.

Mia shrugged thoughtfully, taking out her phone.

“What about mine?” Bob asked, frowning at the packaging that he was having a hard time reading without his glasses on.

“Yours is moisturizing, baby!” Tina replied, strutting back into the TV room in their basement.  She had invited Mia over for cocktails and appetizers after a long week on base. She was working her first court hearing starting next week and though she was confident working under Lt. Gen. Bozek, she wanted things to be perfect, a victim of her own Type-A personality.

The prep had kept her up past one in the morning nearly every night.

Bobbi was out of town for the weekend visiting her new situationship in LeMoore.

“Once you go military….” Tina raised an eyebrow, causing Bob to roll his eyes. She really enjoyed their company – they seemed like people she’d eventually befriend at any point in her life, but she was especially glad to have them now.

“Mia, when does Jack come back out again?” Bob asked, having gotten to chop it up with the younger Thomas when he was in town last.

“Not until after New Year’s unfortunately,” she explained. “I’ll head out to Indiana to visit him for Christmas, it’s hard for him to get out here between winter semester and baseball practices.”

“It’ll come sooner than you think,” Bob smiled warmly. “We’ll head back to Oregon to Tina’s Mom’s for Christmas,” he added.

“Oh I love Oregon,” Mia gushed.

“It’s the best,” Tina agreed, joining them on the big sectional sofa, popping a cheese cube into her mouth. “So Mimi,” she grinned in a way that Mia had learned was trouble. “You and our Hangman were looking awfully cozy at the Fourth party…” She trailed off.

“Were we?” Mia asked, acting as though she couldn’t remember the party from a little over two weeks earlier.

“Babe?” Tina asked, looking at her husband.

“Cozy,” Bob confirmed.

“Not any more cozy than with Rooster,” Mia tried to level.

“Oh please,” Tina snorted. “He took his shirt off and your tongue rolled down to the ground like a cartoon.”

“It did not!” Mia honked out an unladylike laugh, caught by surprise.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, we all looked,” Tina insisted.

“Hate to disappoint you both, but Jake and I are just friends,” Mia replied coyly. Friends who ate breakfast on the beach and nearly kissed on base – but she’d keep that to herself. “Speaking of, I haven’t heard from too many others in a while, what gives?” Mia asked, taking a sip of her wine as she thumbed through a magazine on her lap. When she received no response, she looked up to catch the tail end of a look between Bob and Tina.

“They’re out on assignment,” Tina said.

“Like at a different base?” Mia asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Something like that,” Tina replied. Mia didn’t love her answer.

“Wait what does that mean?” The blonde frowned, “is everyone okay?” She asked.

“No reason to think they’re not,” Bob said calmly.

“Explain,” Mia insisted. As someone who professionally lived in the black and white, she didn’t understand the grey they were offering.

“Sorry Mia, it’s confidential,” Bob gave her a sad smile.

“But you’re not there?” Mia asked.

“I didn’t draw the short straw,” he said, not sure how else to explain.

“Well when do they come home?” Mia asked, a little knot forming between her brows.

“Can’t say,” Bob replied.

“Well this is bullshit!” She frowned even deeper.

“It is,” Tina agreed, causing Bob to give her a sidelong glance. “More wine?” She offered.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“I think the eighteen by twenty-four goes to the left of that window, and then the small gallery to the right,” Bobbi said, standing back from the window.

“Okay, but then where does the mirror go?” Mia asked, looking around the room at her options.

“Bedroom for sure,” Bobbi replied.

“Yeah, I think you’re right, but I’ve got to get my new desk in first,” Mia sighed. After living in her apartment for the past 11 months, she decided to upgrade to a slightly larger unit on the south side of the building. It was the nicest apartment available and she was pleased with herself for pulling the trigger on something she knew she’d appreciate. The new apartment would give Jack some more space when he came to visit and now they each had their own respective bathrooms, along with a den she could carve into an office.

“And when does everything else get moved up?” Bobbi asked, taking a sip of her water glass on the counter.

“Well, I decided I could do most of it myself, so Tina and Bob are coming by this afternoon to help with a few things,” Mia grinned, “I think I may have bit off more than I can chew.”

“You really strike me as a hire-the-movers kind of person,” Bobbi laughed.

“Normally I am!” Mia insisted, “but I’ve become such a control freak lately that I just decided I wanted to do it myself – besides, it’s only down the hall, it can’t be that hard.”

“Fair,” Bobbi nodded. “Well I’m going to order some salads for lunch and we’ll see what else we can hang up?” She suggested, grabbing her phone from her purse.

“Perfect,” Mia smiled.

The pair worked diligently hanging picture frames, mindful of the tape markers on the floor that would signify where certain furniture pieces would live. Mia was grateful for a friend like Bobbi – and by extension, Lt. Gen. Bozek for introducing the two. She had returned from Lemoore last week, a big hickey on her neck that she was mortally embarrassed about, but a big smile nonetheless. Mia loved to see her happy.

“Hey you haven’t heard from like Rooster or Hangman, have you?” Mia tried to ask casually, taking a bite of her salad as they sat around her kitchen island an hour later. Bobbi glanced up at the blonde with a small frown.

“Sorry, no,” she shook her head.

“It’s been like a really long time, right?” Mia asked. At this point, it had been over three and a half weeks since she saw Jake. Or Bradley.

She was new to this world – was being this long a good or bad thing? It couldn’t be good, right? Were they in danger? Had something already happened and no one had said anything yet?

“You’ll get used to it,” Bobbi gave her hand a squeeze. “I haven’t heard anything, but that doesn’t mean much. I could as my uncle if he knows anything?” She offered.

“No, it’s okay,” Mia felt silly for bringing it up, stabbing her fork down into her salad.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” Bobbi offered a reassuring smile.

That night as Mia laid in her bed, she stared at the ceiling, still plagued with thoughts of Jake. And Bradley. What if something had happened? What if he was hurt, or worse? Would it take this long for them to find out?

Oddly enough, the first thing that flashed through Mia’s mind was all the times Jake had held her hand. Dismounting from chairs at The Hard Deck, stepping out of her golf cart, helping her up from the beach blanket after their beach morning. She wanted more of it. She wanted his hands on her in the way he lifted her to his shoulders in the pool or as he reached for something beyond her grasp on the grocery store shelf.

She wanted more sunsets in a patio lounger and darts at the bar, ignoring the boundaries of personal space. She wanted more rides in the Jag and maybe they could even start running in the morning together.

Mostly, she wanted to kiss his gorgeous face. She wanted him to hold her in those strong arms so she knew exactly where he was. She wasn’t sure how it happened, but she had fallen deep for Jake Seresin. So where the hell was he?

Wiping away a tear of frustration, she turned to her side and tried to get some sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Another week had passed and Mia’s court case proceedings were going well, but it was still quite a bit of stress on the young attorney. Following the morning’s hearing, she headed back to her office to unwind when she got the call.

“Your grandmother had a fall, she’s okay, but she’s asking for you.” The orderly explained.  

Lt. Gen. Bozek had barely told her to pack up and leave before she was flying down the highway in the convertible. She hated driving in heels, but she was thankful for the short drive. She had called Jack on the way to give him an update and talked him down from missing class to come out and see Dorothea.

“It’s okay, they said she’s okay,” Mia reassured. “Don’t miss class – I will give you an update as soon as I get eyes on her. We’ll FaceTime.” She insisted on the phone, pulling into the parking lot for the care facility.

“Give her a kiss for me,” Jack insisted sadly.

“Of course I will – call you soon, Jack Jack.” She hung up. Putting on a brave face, she walked into the facility and was greeted by the medical director, who walked alongside Mia as they headed up to Dorothea’s suite.

“She’s okay, she’s stable. She does have a fractured wrist and some bruising on her leg,” the doctor explained. “We’ve completed a full evaluation and we don’t think this is a cause for concern, but simply that she’s an 88-year-old woman and these things happen.”

Mia knew he was only trying to be reassuring, but the fact remained, Dorothea was 88 and things like this would only become more commonplace.

“What was the response time between the fall and someone attending to her?” Mia asked.

“Less than two minutes,” The doctor explained. “Dorothea has an alert buddy, which senses if she’s had a fall and alerts us immediately.” Mia could exhale at that news.

“Thank you,” she said softly, pushing open the door to her grandmother’s room.

Stepping in quietly, she slipped out of her heels and padded towards the recliner her grandmother was napping in, facing out toward the ocean with the sea breeze coming in through the open patio door. Mia said dutifully beside her, gently resting her hand on Dorothea’s and feeling like she could breathe again.

It was one thing to be told someone was okay, but another to get hands on them and know for yourself.

“Hi sweetheart,” Dorothea smiled softly. Mia held back a sob.

“Hi there,” she replied, giving Dorothea’s hand a small squeeze.

“Why so sad?” Her grandmother asked, seeing the trouble behind her mirrored brown eyes.

“Oh, I was just worried about you,” Mia said gently.

Moving was stressful, the need to win her first court case was looming over her shoulders and wondering every 10 minutes if Jake was okay was taking a toll on her. Throw in an ailing grandmother on top of that and Mia felt a little bit like her world was caving in on top of her.

“You don’t need to worry about me, my darling girl,” Dorothea insisted. “I’m doing quite well – I won’t be dancing anytime soon, but that’s just fine.” Mia let a single tear slip with her soft laugh. “Come on, there must be more?” Her grandmother pressed.

Mia sucked in a small breath, running her free hand through her hair.

“I’m worried about my friend,” She explained. “He’s an aviator on base and he’s been gone for a long time. We don’t really get to know any details or when he’ll be back.” She added.

Dorothea patted Mia’s hand gently.

“I’m sorry, Mimi,” Dorothea sympathized. “Does he know how you feel about him?” She asked. Mia’s eyes cut over to her grandmother, who gave her a serene look but just a corner of her mouth was upturned.

“No,” Mia gave her a sad smile. “I mean, I only just figured it out for myself the other day, but I do care about him a lot.”

“Is he handsome?” Dorothea asked, causing Mia to giggle, breaking the tension in her brows.

“So handsome,” she agreed. “You’d love him.” She insisted. “His name is Jake and he’s a total gentleman – from Texas.”

“Cowboy,” Dorothea winked, making Mia laugh again. She was so glad her grandmother was okay – but it didn’t change the fact that she was becoming more and more fragile.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Mia was back at work three days later, hair a little out of place and a hint of darkness under her eyes. It was piling on – the pressure. Jack was stressed about school and calling her every night, during the day, she was pounding away at work while devoting as much time as she could talking to Dorothea.

Her move was going slower than she could believe and was living between two apartments – getting ready in one unit before walking down the hall to get the rest of her things. Her complex was being gracious with her move-out period.

That, and still nothing from the Lieutenant Commander.

As the day wound down, she could see the light in Lt. Gen. Bozek’s office click on. Neither of them had designs to leave anytime soon.

After going over two hours of deposition with Bozek, it was nearing eight o’clock and her vision was getting more and more blurry by the minute. She was tired, getting cranky, and was hoping she could see a sliver of sunlight before it went dark for the evening. That was clearly out of the question at this point, as she could see the stars winking through thin clouds.

The full moon, however, was her saving grace, and she admired its beauty through the window of her office.

“Mia, it’s late, and we’ve got a Noon call time tomorrow,” Bozek sighed, standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you head home and try to get a few extra hours of sleep?” He suggested.

“Normally I would fight you on this, but yes, I will take your advice,” she smiled pitifully. Lt. Gen. Bozek liked the young attorney and he saw an incredibly bright future for her – this first win would mean a lot.

“Let’s head out, there’s a bus arriving shortly and it’s going to get a bit busy on base,” he explained. “Actually we might already be S-O-L.” He said, craning his neck to see cars already leaving with their loved ones.

“A bus?” She asked, tossing her laptop down into her tote and switching from her heels into a pair of sensible flats that made her drive home much more bearable.

“There’s a small team returning tonight from assignment,” blood rushed her ears. “Families that live nearby can come pick them up from the base, it’s actually pretty sweet.” He explained.

“Jake?” She whispered, not intending for Bozek to hear her.

“You might find… a familiar face or two out there… if they haven’t left yet,” Lt. Gen. Bozek trailed.

“I’ll see you at Noon!” She called, taking off like a bat into the night as she escaped from the building, feet pounding down the stairs. She jumped the last two, throwing her briefcase haphazardly over the car door and into the passenger seat as she nearly leapt into the car. She prayed Jake hadn’t already left. She never saw his car on base, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t have gotten a ride with someone else.

With no real sense of where to go, she simply drove toward the commotion that neared a hangar she had passed by a hundred times. Ten or so cars remained with a few lights on to illuminate the airfield. Parking like an absolute jackass, she hopped out of the car and began scanning the crowd. Forty or so base members and their families were milling about with big hugs and happy smiles.

She didn’t care if she looked like a lunatic, so she began to weave through groups, doing her best to identify anyone in the harsh, angled lighting.

It began to feel hopeless. There weren’t that many people that she’d lose Jake. She felt like if he was there, she’d know it, and she felt utterly lost in a sea of strangers.

Cutting her losses, she figured if she headed back to her apartment now, she could shimmy some of her kitchen boxes down the hall to her new place. She turned to walk down the parking area behind the row of cars.

Pulling her phone out of her back pocket, she composed a text to Bobbi and Tina in their group chat, a pitiful frown on her face.

“We’ve got to stop running into each other like this, Thomas.” Mia’s head popped up at the familiar voice and her face crumpled upon seeing Lieutenant Commander Seresin leaning against her driver’s side door, his duffel bag sitting on the trunk of her car.

“Jake!” She let the floodgates open, running a full sprint at the tall blonde, who was more than ready to catch her as she jumped into him. He held her tightly against him, reveling in the feeling as she buried her face into his neck, giving him a reason to inhale the scent of her shampoo and that damned perfume.

He gently rocked them back and forth as she squeezed him tight, and he could feel the tiny, telltale shakes of her shoulders.

“It’s okay, I’m here, darlin’,” he murmured pressing his lips to her temple. “Everything’s okay,” he cooed, “I’m here.”

“Why didn’t you call?” She cried, “why didn’t you let me know you were okay?” She asked. He leaned against her car a little further when he realized she wasn’t ready to let go yet.

“If I could have, I would have, sweetheart,” he explained gently. “I wanted to every day.” He could feel the tears catch on the fabric of his cotton tee.

“Stay with me tonight?” She asked, pulling back and looking up at him with those bleary, honey-gold eyes. Even in the dark of the evening, they seemed to glow.

“There is nothing else I’d rather do.”

The two drove in comfortable silence back to Mia’s apartment, her crowding him as much as possible – him, glad to maneuver the two-seater with one hand as the other arm draped across her shoulders, holding her into his side.

“I got it, Mia, you go on ahead,” he said, tossing his duffel over his shoulder and grabbing her work tote as well. In the elevator to the fifteenth floor, she crowded him yet again, pressing her face into his chest. She didn’t like the smell that clung to his Navy-issued clothing. It didn’t smell like him. “Darlin’, why’s your mattress on the ground?” He said after she led him through the halfway-furnished apartment to her bedroom.

“I’m moving,” she said quietly. “Just down the hall, but I can’t move my bed frame on my own and Tina and Bob had to cancel on me because Bob’s got the flu and Bobbi’s back in Lemoore this weekend, and I’ve been in Del Mar with my grandmother since she fell and I’ve got this court hearing tomorrow and –” She began to wind herself up again.

“Okay, okay, let’s get you changed out of your work clothes,” he said, scooting her over to her closet. “Do you have some pajamas here?” She nodded, rubbing her hands across her face. “You get changed and I’ll grab us a drink, okay?” He offered, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. She paused, taking him in in the warm light of her apartment. He’d never been here, but something about his presence made it feel like home.

He, too, looked like he’d been missing some sleep, and his skin was irritated across his forehead and by his ears. He’d never looked so handsome.

He knew what she was thinking, and before she could fully grasp his jaw in her hands, his lips were on hers.

She was soft and warm and everything he had dreamed of the past four weeks in his twin cot on the carrier. His arms wound around her waist as she rocked forward on her toes, stretching to reach him as she slanted her mouth over his.

“I’m sorry, I should have asked,” she said after softly pulling away. He knew he would always enjoy his downward view of her eyelashes before she looked up at him – a dazed expression on her face.

“Please never apologize,” he murmured, cupping her face in his hand, itching to run his fingers through her hair. “Change, meet me back here in two,” he instructed, pressing another firm kiss to her lips.

As soon as he stepped out of the bedroom, she flew through the closet, flinging her clothes off and stepping into a soft, matching set of shorts and tee.

Jake reappeared as she crawled into the elevated mattress – grateful she had made the bed that morning before work. He held two glasses in his hands, ice waters and a slice of lemon in hers. He was good with details.

“Drink,” he said softly, handing over her glass. And she did, as she watched him step out of his Navy-issued pants, folding them and tossing them over the back of her reading chair before pulling his white tee over his head. “Is this okay?” He asked, tossing the t-shirt on top of his pants before doing the same with his dog tags. He was left standing in his white boxers. She nodded intently.

The sight of Mia holding back the corner of the bed covers for him made a warm tingling surface near the base of his spine and behind his ears. He knew for months they’d get here, but now it was real.

Mia wasted no time crowding his space once again. He managed not to jump at her cold fingertips, but made himself comfortable in her bed as she came to relax on his chest. He tucked one arm behind his head and stroked the other up and down her back.

“Don’t leave again,” she said, propping her chin up against his chest. “Everything fell apart when you did.” She pressed a kiss to the warm skin of his collarbone. “Tell me about it, darlin,’” he insisted.

“Dorothea fell and broke her wrist,” she began. “She’s going to be fine but it scared the hell out of me,” she added. “I’ve been spending as much time as I can with her, but I’m working my first court case and we have another proceeding tomorrow at Noon that I’ve been killing myself on.” Jake listened carefully she continued. “Jack is freaking out at school about one of his senior capstone classes and is now doubting his whole major, and we talk every day, but I’m running out of hours.”

Jake paused his ministrations and simply held her to him.

“And I’ve been living between two apartments because I didn’t just hire the damn movers, I had to do it myself,” she rolled her eyes. “Turns out I can’t move all this furniture on my own.” She pressed the broad of her face into his chest. “And I just missed you a lot,” she confessed, her words muffled by his skin.

“Gonna have to speak up on that last one,” he said, rubbing her back again, very aware of what she said.

“I missed you so much – more than I thought I would,” she said, looking up at him once again. “I was talking to my grandmother about you and I just realized that… I have feelings for you.” She said, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

“Glad we’re on the same page, sweetheart,” he said, pushing her hair back out of her face. “Been waiting for you to catch up,” he added.

“Tina tried tipping me off… but I don’t know, I didn’t want to jump to anything I wasn’t sure about,” she explained.

“Tina’s a menace,” he grinned, kissing the top of her head. “Wanted to give you time to come around.”

“I’m here,” she said, her gaze dropping to his lips. He was eager to gather her up against him, her hands once again delving into his soft hair as his mouth claimed hers.

“Missed you,” he breathed between kissing, chasing her lips.

“I thought about you every day,” she confessed. “Just wanted you home,” she added, gathering her legs underneath her and swinging one over to straddle his hard body. Jake groaned as she pushed down against him, going cross-eyed beneath his lids for a moment.

“Alright cowgirl, just – give me a minute,” he grit. She didn’t. She pressed open-mouth, lazy kisses against his jaw, nipping his earlobe with her teeth in a way that sent a metallic zing right down to his cock. She reveled in the feeling of him hardening beneath her, feeling incredibly powerful in that moment.

“I know I’m going to regret this,” he murmured, chasing her lips yet again for a firm kiss. “But you’ve got court in the morning,” he added, pecking her softly. “And I’ve got some furniture to move.” He continued. “Then, when you’re out of court, we can drive some dinner over to Del Mar.” Mia withheld a whimper. She knew Jake would fix everything. “And I want to do this right.” He said pressing his face into her cheek and enjoying the warmth of her skin. “Because I’m crazy about you, Mia Thomas,” he said, catching her attention with his intent.

“Glad we’re on the same page, Lieutenant Commander.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x ofc #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin smut #FINALLY #top gun fic #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #jake seresin is a simp

[widespot]

Ottomas, Sharla

Sharla, not to put too fine a point on things, is lonesome; but her pride won't let her admit it or risk acting needy. "Oh, I'm a lowly sophomore and you're big man on campus, is that it?"

"One of my favorite things is going to see the displays at the Fine Arts Building."

"Isaiah! I thought you didn't get here till next semester?" "Yeah, well, Tina dumped me for Gallagher and there just, didn't seem to be any point in waiting around anymore." "She what!?"

She runs into Isaiah, oddly enough, at the bowling alley. She suspects, though he says he's all about new starts, that he's a bit homesick himself. "Well, shoot." "You didn't really think you could beat me? The heir apparent to Nathan's Fun Bowl?" "No, but I thought I could get more than one pin!"

"You look like spring personified in that dress." "Um - wow? Are you - trying to pick me up?" "Not exactly but could I get your phone number?" "Okay, sure."

#land grant university #ottomas #sharla #isaiah

[penig]

Ottomas, Sharla

Sharla, not to put too fine a point on things, is lonesome; but her pride won't let her admit it or risk acting needy. "Oh, I'm a lowly sophomore and you're big man on campus, is that it?"

"One of my favorite things is going to see the displays at the Fine Arts Building."

"Isaiah! I thought you didn't get here till next semester?" "Yeah, well, Tina dumped me for Gallagher and there just, didn't seem to be any point in waiting around anymore." "She what!?"

She runs into Isaiah, oddly enough, at the bowling alley. She suspects, though he says he's all about new starts, that he's a bit homesick himself. "Well, shoot." "You didn't really think you could beat me? The heir apparent to Nathan's Fun Bowl?" "No, but I thought I could get more than one pin!"

"You look like spring personified in that dress." "Um - wow? Are you - trying to pick me up?" "Not exactly but could I get your phone number?" "Okay, sure."

#land grant university #Ottomas #Sharla #Isaiah #did y'all know if you click “create” from a sideblog it'll just post to your main blog? #lemme see if I can copy this where it belongs somehow

[werewolfbansheelove]

Theatricality (School Sets)

Tina is dressed in total goth look and Figgins look at her with rage in his eyes.

Tina: Am I in trouble?

Will: Come on. You’ve got more self-esteem than that. I think this might have something to do with your perfect attendance last semester.

Figgins: No. Miss Cohen-Chang is in trouble. It has come to my attention that the look you sport is what is known as goth.American teens are coming down with a serious case of Twilight fever, transformed from normal children into vampires obsessed with the occult. And only yesterday, this dark specter reared its head at McKinley High.

Flash Back - Lockers-Lauren and a clique of « Team Edward and Jacob »,Jacob Ben Israel

Some girls are in front of the lockers with Team Edward and Team Jacob T-shirts.

Lauren: This is totally going to get Robert Pattinson's attention.

Hissing

Jacob: Oh, hey. (Girls roaring and screaming jump on him) Oh, dear God!

End of Flash Back

Will: I don’t mean to state the obvious, but you do know that vampires aren’t real, right? They don’t exist.

Figgins: William, denial will not make this problem go away!

Tina: My parents won’t even let me watch Twilight. My mom says she thinks Kristin Stewart seems like a bitch.

Figgins: This is a serious problem! Miss Cohen-Chang, you’ve got to find yourself another style of dress!

Will: Hold on a second. Tina is shy and one way she’s found to express herself is through her clothes. High school is an incredibly important time when kids get to explore who they are. When I was in high school, I had a whole year where I dressed exactly like Kurt Cobain. I mean, come on. There has to be someone who you used to dress like.

Figgins: Yes. For several years in my early 20s, I dressed up as Elvis. But he was a Christian, Will! And he did not possess the ability to transform into a bat!

Tina (whispering to Will): I think he believes vampires are real.

Will: I think you’re right.

Figgins: Studies have shown that a strict dress code fosters a safe and stable learning environment with fewer instances of gang violence and vampirism. So, if I see you dressed in lacy demon clothes again, Tina Cohen-Chang, (pounds desk) You will be suspended! 

—–—–

In the Choir Room, All the Glee Club and Mr Schue looked at  Tina changed her look and wears a jogging that looks like pajamas.

Artie: It’s so weird.

Finn: This so isn't you.

Tina: I feel like an Asian Branch Davidian.

Will: Tina, are there any other looks you can try?

Santana: Biker chick? (Tina puts her thumb down showing she doesn’t agree)

Finn: Cowgirl?

Mercedes: Hood rat.

Quinn: Computer programmer.

Britanny: Cross-country skier.

Puck: Catholic schoolgirl.

Britanny: Happy Meal, no onions. Or a chicken.

Tina: Look, I appreciate it, guys,but it just isn’t me. I know who I am, and I’m not allowed to show it. It’s like communism.

Rachel (showing up in the room): Guys, we have a serious problem. You know how I’ve been doing some deep background on Vocal Adrenaline?

Artie: Isn’t that against the rules?

Rachel: No, not at all. Or probably. Whatever! Anyway, what I figured out; I rooted through the Dumpsters behind the Carmel auditorium and I found 18 empty boxes of Christmas lights.

Tina: Oh, no.

Rachel: Which led me to Joelle Fabrics. I asked them about red Chantilly lace. They were sold out.

Mercedes: Oh, sweet Jesus.

Kurt: Oh, my.

Will: Wait, what?

Kurt: They’re doing Gaga.

Mercedes: That’s it. It’s over.

Rachel: Exactly.

Kurt: We should have guessed it. They’re going for full-out theatricality. They know it’s the easiest way to beat us. Damn them.

Puck: What’s up with this Gaga dude? He just, like, dresses weird,right? Like Bowie?

Rachel scoffs

Kurt (aggresive to Puck): Lady Gaga is a woman. She’s only the biggest pop act to come along in decades. She’s boundary-pushing, the most theatrical performer of our generation. And she changes her look faster than Brit changes sexual partners.

Britanny: That’s true.

Artie: It makes sense that Vocal Adrenaline would pay homage. It's a brilliant move. She’s a perfect fit for them.

Will: Hold on a second. We might be able to kill two birds with one stone here. We can help Tina find a new look and find a competitive number for regionals. This week, your assignment : Gaga.

The girls and Kurt are gasping and murmuring, the guys don’t seem as happy as them of the week challenge.

Rachel: Pens, we need pens. My ideas just come to me.

Will: Uh, my office. Right there.

Rachel: I’m brainstorming. It’s coming.

–—–—

Finn knocks on the door to Will’s office. 

Will: Oh, hey, Finn, come on in. (He enters) I’m learning all this amazing stuff about Lady Gaga. She’s got this thing called the "Haus of Gaga" which is like this collective of artists and designers who collaborate on, on her styles and stage sets and her music. I think it’s an exciting model for what we could be doing in Glee Club.

Finn: Yeah, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t want to do Lady Gaga. And I suspect that... with the exception of Kurt... that none of the other guysare gonna want to do it either. I just feel like we’re always doing whatever the girls want us to do.

Will: Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I haven’t been listening to you guys hard enough. So let’s find a solution.

Finn: Well, I, uh, I actually already have one.

—––—

Quinn was annoyed by Puck by what he just told her. 

Puck: You’re wrong. It’s a really good name. It’s a rock star name.

Quinn: You want to name our daughter"Jack Daniels" ? She’s a girl !

Puck: Okay, fine, whatever. Jackie Daniels.

Quinn: The name is not the point. I told you this.I’m giving up the baby so I don’t  have to do this with you. This is good for you. Now you can go off and be a rock star yourself.

Kurt and Tina entered the school, wearing outfits that Lady Gaga have wore before. 

Tina: I love wearing champagne bubbles! I get to express a whole different side of myself! Because even though I’m painfully shy and obsessed with death, I’m a really effervescent person.

Karofsky and Azimio push them against the lockers but Kurt disagrees.

Kurt: Excuse me! Were you dropped on your heads?!

Karofsky: What was that?

Kurt: I think you heard me. I’m just saying. Pick on me - that’s fine - but don’t throw around a girl.

Kurt : I think you heard me. I’m just saying. Pick on me that’s fine, but don’t throw around a girl.

Azimio: Well, you know, lately, we haven’t been able to tell the difference. We’re not gaga for Gaga.

Karofsky: You dress all freaky, and then you rub it in everybody's faces. I don’t want to look at it all day! It’s weird. It makes my eyes tired.

Azimio: If you want to switch it up a bit, just go from Gap to Banana Republic.

Kurt: It’s called being theatrical. We’re showing off who you are. It’s the same thing you do when you go to school with your football uniforms on. You’re expressing yourself, and we have every right to do the same.

Azimio: Well, you know what? The next time you want to express yourself a little like a circus freak, don’t be shocked when my fist (shocks the locker with his fist) feels like expressing itself against your chin! Okay? Knock that crazy fool crepe-paper nonsense offa you.

Karofsky: Let’s go.

Kurt: Yeah, you don’t want to be late for your appointment at Supercuts!

Azimio: Watch your mouth, Hummel!

Karofsky: And you know what, fancy? You don’t need an appointment at Supercuts. They love walk-ins.

—––—–

All the ladies and Kurt were in Lady Gaga iconic outfits as they were all in the choir room. 

Will: Little monsters, take a bow. (He laughs, applauses) All right! Ladies, Kurt, I am really, really impressed. Sientete. (They all sat down) You know, you know what the best part is? Each one of those costumes shows off a different aspect of your personalities.

Puck: Wait. Where’s Rachel? I mean, I only noticed because, like five minutes have without her saying something totally obnoxious.

Mercedes: Rachel kinda got some intense news yesterday.

Quinn: We were spying on Vocal Adrenaline, and...

Will (cuting her): You guys, that’s not fair! You gotta stop doing that. But, uh, you know, what, what'd you find out?

Mercedes: Okay, y'all ready? Miss Corcoran, their coach? She’s Rachel’s mom.

Will: Are you serious?

Artie: Way to bury the lead, Mercedes.

Puck: We’re screwed. Rachel's gonna jump ship over to Vocal Adrenaline.

Rachel: Never! (She entered the room in a outfit with stuff animals all over the look.) I really don’t want to talk about it, though. I’m still processing the news. And my dads are moving my therapist to our spare room later this afternoon. All I can know is that I’m not going anywhere, and I’ve chosen a Lady Gaga look that expresses the longing for a childhood I was deprived of.

Britanny: You look terrible. I look awesome.

Mercedes: I think it’s the Kermit the Frog look.

Kurt: And we have a jumper.

Rachel: Well, my dads can’t sew, so these are just stapled on.

Will: Guys, why don’t we worry about this later, and maybe try to focus on the song?

Rachel: Couldn’t agree more. Hit it!

Kurt: Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah, Roma, roma-mah-mah Gaga, ooh la la, want your bad romance!

Tina: I want your ugly, I want your disease, I want your everything as long as it’s free. I want your love, Love, love, love. I want your love.

Mercedes: I want your psycho, your vertigo stick. Want you in my rear window, baby, you’re sick

Girl and Kurt: I want your love. Love, love, love, I want your love. I want your love.

Quinn: You know that I want you and you know that I need you. (Kurt: Because I’m a freak, baby!) I want it bad, bad romance.

Girls and Kurt: I want your love and I want your revenge. You and me could write a bad romance. I want your love and all your lover's revenge you and me could write a bad romance. Caught in a bad romance.

Tina: Walk, walk fashion baby, work it, move that thing crazy. (All girls:) Walk, walk fashion baby, work it, move that thing crazy. Walk, walk fashion baby, work it, move that thing crazy Walk, walk passion baby, work it. I’m a freak, baby!

Santana: I want your love and I want your revenge I want your love I don’t want to be friends! Want your bad romance! (Kurt: Caught in a bad romance) Want your bad romance!

Girls and Kurt: You and me could write a bad romance. I want your love and all your lover's revenge. You and me could write a bad romance (Santana: Want your bad romance) Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance, want your bad romance. Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah, Roma, roma-mah-mah. Gaga, ooh la la Want your bad romance!

The boys and Schuester all clapped for them. 

–——–

In the boys washroom, Finn is drawing a lighter on his face with a Kohl crayon but Azimio and Karofsky come out from the toilet and caught him with the make up on his face

Karofsky: What up, Finn?

Azimio: What’s that on your face? You got a bad pimple or something?

Karofsky: A Finn-ple?

Azimio and Karofsky laugh

Karofsky: Dude, are you wearing makeup?

Azimio: I knew it was contagious. You moved in with that little Kurt kid, and now you got a bad case of the gay.

Finn: It’s just something for Glee Club, all right?

Karofsky: Oh, well, then it’s (He pushes Finn back) definitely not gay, huh?

Finn (pushing him back): Get out of my way!

Azimio: Man, how many times do we got go through this?! You being a jock and being in this Glee Club does not make you versatile. It makes you bisexual.

Karofsky: And if we have to kick your ass to make you understand that, then our schedules are wide open.

Azimio: Get out of my bathroom. You girls, y'all belong across the hallway. Glee boy!

Karofsky laughs and they both get out of the bathroom leaving Finn ashamed. He sighs. 

—–—–

The girls and Kurt are sitting in the bleachers waiting for the guys to show up their theatricality. Rachel entered the auditorium in a pure Lady Gaga outfit. 

Rachel : Sorry I’m late.

Mercedes : Whoa, looking good, Rachel !

Rachel : Thanks. My mom made it.

Britanny (in the background): Very nice.

Will: Well, we’re all here, so without further ado, I’d like to introduce The Boys!

Artie (from the backstadge): Lima, Ohio, get ready to rock!

The curtains open to see the boys in KISS costume and makeup. Girls laugh and cheer the boys as if they were rockstars.

Finn: Well, the night's begun and you want some fun. Do you think you’re gonna find it? (New Direction Boys: Think you’re gonna find it)

Puck: You got to treat yourself like number one. Do you need to be reminded? (New Direction Boys: Need to be reminded)

Artie (with New Directions Boys): It doesn’t matter what you do or say. Just forget the things that you’ve been told. We can't do it any other way. Everybody's got to rock and...(roll) (Whoo, oh, oh)

Artie, Finn, and Puck with New Direction Boys: Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud, shout it, shout it, shout it out loud.

Finn (New Direction Boys): If you don’t feel good, there’s a way you could. Don’t sit there broken-hearted (Sit there broken hearted). Call all your friends in the neighborhood and get the party started (Get the party started)

Puck with Artie: Don’t let them tell you that there's too much noise They’re too old to really understand. You’ll still get rowdy with the girls and boys, Cause it’s time for you to take a stand

Artie, Finn, and Puck with New Direction Boys: Yeah, yeah Yeah! Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud (Puck: You’ve got to have a party). Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud (Finn: Turn it up louder). Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud (Artie: Everybody shout it, now) Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud (Puck: Oh yeah, yeah). Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud (Finn: I hear it getting louder) Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud (Artie: And everybody shout it now). Shout it, shout it, shout it out loud

Finn and Puck: Nooooo-ohhh! (Artie: Whoaah!)

Will: All right, guys, very impressive. Very, very... loud. (chuckles). But what, uh, what does that performance express? And what do those costumes illustrate?

Mike: We did our research, Mr. Shue.

Puck: Yeah, Finn’s demon look is because Gene Simmons liked comic books as a kid, and they called Paul Stanley the "Star Child" because he was a romantic or something. But that doesn’t really explain my whore lips.

Artie: And my Ace Frehley is supposed to be a spaceman from another planet. Mike's iconic catman is because Peter Criss claimed to have nine lives.

Matt: Yeah, and I’m dressed as the guy who replaced Artie when he quits.

Will: Well, congratulations, guys. Job well done. Let’s give it up for the boys!

The girls all cheer them up.

—–—––

In the hallway, 

Kurt: I thought the boy's KISS number was good, although the lyrics did leave something to be desired.

Tina: And Finn kept sticking his tongue out and I couldn’t stop picturing him licking stuff. It was disturbing.

They’re stopped on their way by Karofsky and Azimio looking angry because of the Gaga's clothes that Kurt and Tina are still wearing.

Karofsky: We warned you.

Azimio: Now Gaga's got to go.

–—

In the choir room...

Kurt: You look like you should be in orbit.

Tina: My balls keep falling off.

Kurt: I’ve been there. (He looks at Finn with anger)

Finn (whispering to Kurt): I want to talk about this.

Kurt (whispering back to him with arrogance): There’s not much to say. I feel sorry for you. I thought you were different.

Finn: I am different.

They are cutting off in their talk by Mr. Schue.

Will: All right, let’s get things started.

Puck: Mr. Shue. There’s something I want to say to Quinn. And I want everybody to hear it.

Will: All right.

Puck (walking into the room): At first I didn’t really get this theatrical assignment, being larger than life and putting it all out there,'cause I’m kind of like that all the time. That’s how my dad was, too. He was too busy being all crazy and rock and roll to be there for his kid. And you know what? I didn’t care that my dad was a badass. I just wanted him to be there. And he never was. And then I learned all this KISS stuff and while Jackie Daniels is a great name for like a powerboat or something, it’s not right for a baby girl. So if my KISS mates will help me out, I got a better idea. Grab a stool, guys.

Puck: Beth I hear you calling, but I can’t come home right now. Me and the boys are playing and we just can’t find the sound. 

Puck with New Directions Boys: Just a few more hours and I’ll be right home to you. I think I hear them calling,  Oh, Beth, what can I do? Beth what can I do?

Finn: You say you feel so empty that our house just ain’t a home. And I’m always somewhere else and you’re always there alone

Finn and Puck with New Directions Boys: Just a few more hours and I’ll be right home to you. I think I hear them calling Oh, Beth, what can I do? Beth what can I do?

Puck: Beth, I know you’re lonely and I hope you’ll be alright. 'Cause me and the boys will be playing all night. All night

Puck (to Quinn): I know you’re giving her up, but before you do, I think you should name her Beth. If you’ll let me, I’d really like to be there when she’s born. I’d really like to meet her.

Quinn nods with tears in her eyes. 

––——–

Will walks into the Choir Room. 

Will: Whoa! Guys, why are you all in your theatricality costumes?

Artie: It’s the end of the week. We were kinda hoping to learn what the lesson of the assignment was.

Will: Well, um... You guys have had some great numbers this week, but I’m not totally sure that I know either.

They all laugh.

Tina (coming into the room in her Gothic clothes): I do. I refuse to dress like somebody I’m not to be somebody I’m not. And I learned it’s good to be a little theatrical.

Flash Back :School Corridor - Tina and Figgins

Figgins is going home but runs into Tina who's dressed like a vampire.

Tina: So here’s what’s going to happen. My dad - he’s the king of the vampires. And Asian vampires are the most vicious of all the vampires. You’re going to let me wear my lady demon clothes, or my dad will fly into your bedroom and bite your face off. He’s really pissed. Is that what you want?

Figgins: No, I don’t want that. I’m afraid.

Tina: Good. I’m glad we had this talk. Now I have to go back to my coffin because the light is burning my eyes!

End of Flash Back

All the members of the Glee Club applause and cheer Tina.

Will: There she is.

Artie: Wait. Where’s Kurt and where’s Finn?

Azimio and Karofsky are holding back Kurt against the corridor wall.

Kurt: Fine. You want to hit me? You want to beat me up? Go ahead. But I swear to you. I will never change. I’m proud to be different. It’s the best thing about me. So go ahead, hit me.

Azimio: I believe I will. (To Karofsky) Sir, would you like to go first?

Finn: You’re not hitting anyone.

Kurt: Oh, my God.

Azimio: Is he wearing a red rubber dress or am I tripping?

Finn: I want to thank you, Kurt. I realize I still have a lot to learn, but the reason I’m here right now in a shower curtain, is... Because of you. And I’m not going to let anyone lay a hand on you.

Karofsky : (chuckles) Oh, really, dude ? 'Cause I'm pretty sure we can take both of you.

Puck (following by all the Glee Club): Yeah? But can you take all of us?

Azimio: Okay. Okay, I get it. I took biology. You know what, Karofsky? We done disturbed the freak hive. The worker freaks is trying to protect the queen freak.

Karofsky: Next time... We’ll bring some friends, too.

They both leave.

Rachel: I’m tired of everyone calling us freaks.

Mercedes: Take a look at us. We are freaks.

They all laugh.

Finn: But we’re all freaks together. (He looks at Kurt that joins them and responds to the smile his almost brother gives him) And we shouldn’t have to hide it.

Will (clapping): Nice job, Finn. I think you just figured out what the lesson was. Kinda makes me wish I had planned it. But Mercedes is right, you do all look incredibly insane.

All the Gleeks: Thank you. Thank you.

Will: You’re so welcome. Anyways, let’s get back to work before you’re all forced to join the circus. Next stop? Regionals.

They all get back to the choir room and Kurt and Finn congratulate each other for their Lady Gaga's outfit.

[magbld]

#6 Entry

You saw my Tumblr. I think I feel wrong a bit for showing it to you honestly. I felt that I may have robbed you from healing a bit and I'm sorry for that. I hope you're doing well and felt like this was a good closure for you! I hope you ate well today and slept really good and are excited for the next semester and all the things you'll do in your future! I thought about you all day in all sorts of context; I guess it just feels weird that those are just memories now? It's upsetting to think I wont be close with you anymore like how we were -- but it's for the best for you. I'm sorry I often didn't speak much about how I feel or anything like that! It was a something I've always had trouble with. I find writing a lot more easier to express with. Today, I haven't done much LOL! I woke up really sore. The moment I got home from skiing I had a bit of food and just layed down the whole day. Going in and out of consciousness and what not. My lower back aches (you'd always say that to me) and my thighs are on fire. I woke up today pretty frustrated honestly. I'm still trying to cope and grieve with everything and especially since yesterday I think it just become more overwhelming for me. I'm glad to have read a bit of your Tumblr posts. I was honestly glad you still thought of me and missed me. It's funny how weird we really are? trapped to doing the more smart decision and better decision for ourselves HAHA! I have an appointment tomorrow to get a tooth gem. I hope they saw I have good teeth and ask me to model for their instagram for a reduced price (PLEASE!!!) so silly. I hope it goes well, we almost got tooth gems aswell. Sorry we never made it to it. I played the guitar for a bit and I feel like I'm getting a lot better! My chords feel a lot more stronger and vibrant and not as buzzy and lazy as before. I'm glad. My finger tips feel numb now though. I feel more flexible in my fingers and feel better mind and muscle coordination with my fingertips aswell. I then read a few pages of the love book and it talks about learning how to be comfortable being alone (not lonely). I think I'll practice one of the things they did. The first step is called "Solo Audit" where you record things you do along and if you're comfortable doing it or not. and why? it's something you dot out throughout the week. I wrote down a few things I did in the past few days alone and the things I've done today. I also read a bit of the poetry book. At some times I feel like it's kind of corny but every here and there there is a good little poem. And I can't wait to read other poetry books now. I went to our old spot and it was really cold LOL. The snow was quite going and I don't think I dressed appropriately. I had on my black hoodie with my turtle neck underneath wrapped into my leather jacket wearing my earmuffs and gloves. on the bottoms I had on my black trousers with my wool socks and the boots I've been wearing recently. I wiped off the log honestly just to check if you'd wrote anything or if my message was still there. It's crazy that there was a coyote 25 feet away from me. We locked eyes. It ran! ran fast LOL. I realized I should go and nervously walked home hoping that I wasn't a target. I just kept looking behind me and walked on the populated roads for safety. I ate some spaghetti and played the guitar some more. I'm watching the bear right now and it's good! Tina finally changed up from being a bitch. Fuck TINA!!! till now at least HA.

You've been on my mind all day everyday-- I guess you've always had even before LOL! but in a different context. I hope you're doing well. I don't have much to talk about today because I didn't have much that was new. Maybe I'll make shakshouka sometime soon or a tinned fish pasta. Maybe make some greek desserts I saw on instagram recently. I can't wait to get tooth gems. I miss you. I hope one day we'll see each other again. And felt how we did before. I won't ever ask you. I can't rob you of that. I still feel like I need to keep a distance so I don't interfere. But god it hurts so bad. I'll miss our connection a lot. See you.

[what-if-rpg]

Welcome to the family, KARY! Your application to ARTIE ABRAMS was accepted. We’re really happy to have you around! Make sure to read the beginners checklist, and remember, have fun! We can’t wait to roleplay with you! Have fun!

IN CHARACTER

CHARACTER NAME: Arthur Tristan Abrams (Artie) CHARACTER AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: 28. November 19 OCCUPATION: Audio Supervisor for a Reality show (Love is Blind). FACE CLAIM: Kevin McHale HOMETOWN & CITY WHERE LIVES NOW: Hometown: Lima, Ohio, lives in New York. SEXUAL ORIENTATION & GENDER: Bisexual, male. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Divorced, but doesn't talk about it much. POSITIVE TRAITS: Smart, funny (quick-witted), and independent. NEGATIVE TRAITS: Stubborn, insecure, secretive. CHARACTER QUOTE/LYRIC: "I gave up on being Nice. I started putting more value on other qualities instead: passion, bravery, intelligence, practicality, humor, patience, fairness, sensitivity." — Anna Kendrick,

HEADCANONS

During his last semester of College, Artie got an internship offer on a very prestigious tv show. Since it was very demanding, he quit school just months before graduation. He was expecting to get a job offer once his internship period was over, but it didn't happen. He's been working in tv -jumping from one tv show to another -ever since. He makes pretty good money and has been in some projects he's really loved, even if the tv was never his dream.

He writes a lot in his free time. He's got a handful of screenplays that could be solid movies, but he's done nothing to develop any of them.

Artie got married at 25 after getting an old acquaintance pregnant. They sadly lost the baby and got divorced five months after. He never even told his family ( or most of his friends) that he got married.

Artie has a pretty active sexual life (he is openly bisexual) but hasn't had a relationship since the divorce.

CONNECTIONS

PARENTS: Jonathan and Nancy Abrams : they were always good, present parents. They became pretty over protective after the accident, his father driving him everywhere and his mom quitting her job to care for him. He loves them profoundly but has made a real effort to be independent of them and never asks anything from them. He hides a lot from them. ISABELLA, WREN & HAZEL ABRAMS (Half-Siblings): Has met them several times but has never made an effort to have an actual relationship with them. BRITTANY PIERCE (Ex-Girlfriend & Close Friend): One of the people he trusts the most. She's one of the few people who know about his lost family. TINA COHEN-CHANG (Ex-Girlfriend & Friend): They dated twice (once in high school and once in College), and Artie genuinely cares for her to this day, but there's a small part of him that needs to show her she made a wrong decision when she broke up with him. So, even if there's a genuine friendship between them, Artie always goes out of his way to pretend he's living his best life in front of her. EX-WIFE (Open to anyone that could be interested in portraying this connection): They knew each other for some time but didn't like each other until they had drunk hate-sex and she got pregnant. They decided to get married for the baby, but she sadly lost it while giving birth. They got a divorce five months after, even if Artie didn't want to do so.

#Accepted #Artie Abrams #RP #RPG #Glee #Glee RP #Glee RPG

[spaceorphan18]

99 Perspectives on a Single Love Story #53

A/N: The Story of Kurt and Blaine told through the eyes of everyone else but them. Each chapter is a different perspective in the ongoing tale of their love story.

I started something like this a while back - and now I’m taking the idea and really running with it. Each chapter is a ficlet of a different character at a different point in Kurt and Blaine’s life - documenting their love story. This starts in Audition, and each chapter will be paired with a different episode until reaching Dreams Come True.

[Ao3]

***

Joe Hart (Swan Song) 

Joe Hart his lunch tray down at his usual table in the cafeteria, takes a seat, closes his eyes, and says a small prayer - grateful for his food that day. It’s bright and sunny, and while Ohio is driving fast into a cold winter, Joe has no complaints. Sure, he’s bummed about what happened at sectionals - but Marley seems to be doing okay, and he is grateful for that. Besides, with his newfound free time, his church has paired up with a local mosque and synagogue for a friendly game of paintball. He’s excited for the possibilities.

Another moment later, Blaine Anderson, somewhat abscently, sets down his tray next to Joe. Joe gives a friendly smile, but Blaine is too buried in his phone to really notice. Joe eats his salad silently as Blaine fumbles through making a text. It seems to be a lot of typing, undoing, typing again, and staring at the phone. Joe has no idea what it’s about, but Blaine seems too lost in his world to even notice Joe’s there. Eventually, Blaine seems satisfied, and places his phone gently next to his tray.

“Hi,” Joe says, cheerily.

Blaine, startled, looks around for a moment noticing that they’re the only one at the table, before repeating the greeting. It is unfortunately awkward for a moment. The two of them may have spent a good deal of time in glee together, and Blaine has always been a friendly guy, but Joe’s not sure they’ve ever had an actual conversation when it’s just been the two of them. Despite having the one thing in common, their differing social groups have not allowed for their worlds to intersect very often.

Blaine glances down at his phone, his brow furled as he remains in deep thought.

“Waiting for an important message?” Joe asks, casually.

“Oh, no, it’s um…” Blaine trails off a little, looking almost embarrassed. “It’s just Kurt.”

Ah, Joe nods slightly. “I did hear that the two of you ended your relationship. I am very sorry.” His condolences are sincere, especially since Blaine has been so withdrawn lately. He hates to see anyone suffering, but since they are not close, he only asks God to help guide Blaine in his time of need.

Blaine winces slightly. “Yeah,” he says so softly it’s almost inaudible.

“I suppose it’s good, then, that the two of you are in contact,” Joe notes.

A slight smile pulls at Blaine’s lips. “Well, he is still my best friend.”

There’s a ding from Blaine’s phone, and his face lights up as he looks at it. Joe doesn’t know what the extent of the break up had been. He knows there has been gossip (especially from Tina), but he tries not to judge people based on other’s opinions. He does know that Blaine and Kurt seemed like a unit - two halves of one whole - last year, and that the two of them splitting up had been shocking news to him. But what does he know of the inner workings of other people’s relationships? He’s only happy that Blaine seems to be, at least, in better spirits this week.

“He’s auditioning again for NYADA’s Winter Semester,” Blaine explains, as he picks up his phone again. “He says he’s been playing around with a few things and wanted to know my input. Oh, here’s a video he’s sent. Let’s see…”

Blaine seems to think that Joe is more interested than he probably is, but wanting to be polite, Joe allows Blaine to chatter away as he sets up the phone so they can both watch the video. When he presses play, what follows is a three and a half minute homemade video of Kurt singing a pop song that Joe doesn’t recognize. Blaine tells him it's a song from the 80s rock band Wham! as his eyes remained glued to the screen the entire time. Joe thinks Kurt sounds fine on it - he’s always been impressed with Kurt’s ability to use his upper register - but it doesn’t seem to him anything to write home about. He also isn’t sure he understands the intensely bright colored costume or the strange dance moves. However, Blaine remains captivated, even after the video is over.

“That was interesting…” Joe remarks. He’s always been taught that if he doesn’t have anything nice to say that he should keep it to himself. It’s not that Kurt’s video is bad, he’s just confused by it. He’s not exactly sure how a pop video, shot in a run down looking apartment, with what sounds like a karaoke track playing as accompaniment is going to help Kurt get into a musical theater school.

“Kurt’s the most talented person in the whole world,” Blaine says, adoringly.

Joe nods slightly. Well, they say love is blind. Perhaps it is a little deaf, too.

“I’ll say a little prayer for him,” Joe says, though Blaine is now too busy texting to notice. He clasps his hands together, asking God to please help guide Kurt, too, in his life choices.

#99 perspectives #s.o. writes things

[redheadgleek]

It's time for the Winter Meet'n'Greet -- where Rachel and Tina drag Kurt and Blaine (who don't know each other) because they want to meet people at college. It's like a blind date thing where you have only a few minutes to talk to each other and then move to the next person, and of course Kurt and Blaine meet there!

Really, it was Kurt’s fault for being in this predicament. He’s been friends with Rachel since their sophomore year, has watched her join every extracurricular activity offered, and has been dragged to more than one after-school club in the naming of padding her (their, she corrects) resume. 

He should never have assumed that that behavior would stop when she got to college. 

“It’s only one night.” Rachel argues, as she shoves a hat on his head, ignoring his protests about his hair. “They’ll be your classmates too in just a few short weeks, so you should get to know them now.” 

He doesn’t have much to say to dispute her point, so he allows her to tug him out into the cold. 

Kurt unwinds his scarf slowly, taking the opportunity to scan the room. Someone has transformed one of the classrooms into an intimate space, with holly and white Christmas lights strung across the ceiling. Candles flicker in small glasses on each table. It’s charming, a Charles Dickens set come to lifel 

“Welcome to the third annual All Drama Meet and Greet!” A cheerful woman hands him a drink card. “Take any open seat and we’ll get started in just a few minutes.” 

He finds a seat and takes out his phone to quickly check on his hair. Thankfully, the wool hadn’t flattened his hair too much.

“Is this seat free?” Kurt looks up to see a young man with warm, dancing eyes. 

“No. I mean yes. I mean. Please.” He blushes at his stumbling and gestures weakly as the seat. 

“Blaine.” The man says and holds out his hand.

“Kurt.” 

“I haven’t met you before, have I? You look very familiar?” 

“No, I- I’m new. Start next semester.”

“Wait. Are you the one who sang at the Winter Showcase a couple of weeks ago?” 

He blushes again. “Yes.”

“Your version of Being Alive was amazing.” 

“It was a last minute decision. I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare.”

“Don’t be modest.” Blaine said earnestly. “Kurt, you were truly… transforming.”

Kurt preens slightly. “Well, I’m no Bernadette Peters.”

Blaine laughs. “No, but who is really? I swear she’s immortal. Did you watch Smash?”

Kurt gives him his best glare. “Did I watch Smash? Blaine, what kind of gay wanna-be actor would I be if I didn’t spend my Thursday evenings glued to the screen and singing along.”

“Favorite song?”

“Not a favorite song perhaps, but Christian Borle? Did not sing nearly enough.”

“I know! Such a waste of his talent.”

“They are all too talented. That’s part of the problem with ensemble shows, there’s never enough time to showcase all of those who deserve the praise.” 

“Season 2 is coming out next month. Maybe, you could, you could come over and watch it with me?” Blaine suggests, his gaze warm and inviting in the flickering candlelight. 

“I’d … like that.” Kurt says breathlessly. 

A bell chimes loudly, startling them apart. “Okay, let’s put a brake to the idle chit-chat.” The woman who had directed him to his seat announces. “You know how this works. You’ve got three minutes to find out three interesting tidbits about your partner and then you move onto the next person, so that we can all get to know each other. Three minutes, that’s all. And ... go!” 

Blaine leans forward, reaching his hand across the table. “Hey. Would you like to get out of here? I think there are far more than three interesting tidbits about you and I would like to know them all.”

Having a boy gazing at him like he is precious and fascinating is intoxicating. On a whim, Kurt threads his fingers through Blaine’s hand, lifting it to place a soft kiss on the back. “I would love that.”

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: brake #why does it take me so long to write 600 words #spaceorphan18 #fic series: eyes meeting over the noise #redheadgleek writes

[gorgxoxus]

Klaine Advent Day 1: abashed

hi, hello, whyyyyyy am i doing this. I got angry that it is summer in Australia, and all you in the Northern Hemisphere are experiencing cold weather and/ or snow, so here is Klaine - Aussie summer edition. Also has been edited once and i am not a writer.

Blaine decided after graduating college a semester early in 2019, to go travelling to Australia and visit as much as he could. He got to Perth, Western Australia with his friends Quinn, Tina, Elliott and Sam when the pandemic hit and decided to stay in Australia. Sam and Elliott decided to go home and Quinn and Tina decided to stay. A few months extra of Australian summer and spring is better than going home. After ending a previous college fling, he doesn’t feel like anything is waiting for him at home.  

It’s now late November 2020 and he’s still here with Quinn and Tina. A few months more turned into the rest of the year. Cases are still rising at home, so he is just enjoying being in Western Australia. It is warm, Covid cases are almost non-existent here and he does not have a big urge to get back. He is content with the coastal life right now.

He rises early on December 1st, knowing that the temperatures are going to be nearing 110, or what Australians call 42 degrees. He still gets confused about Celsius temperatures after being here a year. He is used to snow in winter, but this one of the many new experiences he’s had this year.

He leaves the apartment with Quinn carrying their towels down the path towards the ocean. The water is refreshing and afterwards he heads to the kiosk, a new word he learnt this year.

There’s a new guy manning the register who does not like he should be outside on a 110-degree day. With his pale skin, his long sleeve shirt and styled hair do, he looks like he should be the one in New York this December. His name tag reads Kurt so when serving him thanks him, and when he says his name he leans forward a bit. He cannot tell if Kurt is blushing with his already warm cheeks. He ducks out with his drink and almost forgets that Quinn was waiting behind him about to order a green juice.

She teases him the whole walk back, and he worries if should be feeling ashamed about his blatant flirting on Kurt. All he knows is that his December has been brightened up.

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: abashed #i am nervous lol #my fic

[thegaylink]

More Than Chemistry

What will happen when Alex and Willie get paired up for a chemistry project? A subject that Willie excels at, but Alex, well, he tries his best.

Chapter 1

Alex tried to stay focused, but in chemistry, that was very difficult. He didn’t want to zone out, but the class was unnecessarily complicated and the teacher’s voice was just so monotone that it made him want to scream. He had been day dreaming for the first 20 minutes of class before he snapped out of it to see the words “First Semester Chemistry Project” written in messy handwriting on the board. Crap. The one day he zoned out was the day of a project. He started to listen to the teacher’s instructions.

    “This project is forty percent of your first semester chemistry grade, so you and your partner need to make sure it’s your best work, which means no slacking off or waiting until the last minute,” she said. Partner? He really did miss a lot. Luke is in this class though, so as long as he could choose his partner he would be good. 

    “I will read you the list of partners after I finish explaining the project,” well, so much for that. Alex looks around the class. Despite being in the class for months, he still didn't know anyone other than Luke, and he wasn’t fond of human interactions outside of his small friend group. He ended up zoning out for a few more minutes before finally snapping back out of it to listen to the rest of the instructions.

    “Alright, and now your partners. We have Andy and David, Sarah and John, Luke and Brad, Tina and Erin, Gwen and Nelson, Alex and Willie, Jackson and Leah, and finally, Jason and Bella.” She finished the list off just a few minutes before the bell rang. Willie? Who was that?    

    The bell rang and he walked outside. He was supposed to be meeting Julie and the guys at Eat-n-Beats to talk about gigs and songs. It was only about a ten minute walk, so he didn’t feel the need to ask for a ride. He was almost there when he heard someone yell something along the lines of “beep, beep” before he was suddenly face first on the cement.

    “Aw, man, you dinged my board,” he heard a voice say as he started standing back up.

    “Dinged your- dude! You ran over me! What the hell!” he said, now fully standing up.

    “Oh. Yeah, sorry about that, I probably should’ve slowed down” the other guy said unclipping his helmet and taking it off. Well fuck, there goes any chance Alex had at a successful human interaction. Saying the boy was attractive was an understatement. He grabbed the strap of his fanny pack to keep him focused.

    “Hey, um, I’m sorry for running into you. I wasn't paying attention, it's my bad,” he started, but honestly, Alex really didn't process much of it. The boy picked something up off the ground and handed it to Alex. His backpack, more specifically. He must have dropped it when he fell.

    “Oh, um, thanks,” he managed to say, grabbing the back and putting it on over his shoulder.

    “Yeah, no problem. I’m Willie, by the way, Willie Roberts,” he said, holding out his hand.

    “Oh, um, Alex,” he said, shaking Willie’s hand. “Alex Mercer.”

    “Cool! You go to Los Feliz?” Willie asked, as he took his hand back and picked up his skateboard

    “Um, yeah, yeah I do. How’d you know?”

    “There's a patch on your bag. Also, I’ve kinda seen you in my chemistry class, we’re partners for the first semester project.” 

    “Oh, um, cool. Is that why you ran into me or..?”

    “No! No, I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to run into you, but when I picked up your bag I kinda pieced it together.”

    “Yeah?”

    “Yeah, um, anyways, I’ll catch you later!” he skated away and Alex didn’t know if he should be scared or happy. On one hand, it's nice to know who is partner is for the project, on the other hand, well, Willie was very attractive and Alex was not looking forward to embarrassing himself in front of him. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and walked to Eat-n-Beats to meet the others.

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

“Someone's happy,” Julie said as he sat down at the table after ordering his coffee.

“What happened?” Bobby asked, looking up from Lukes song writing journal.

“Nothing! What makes you think something happened?” he asked, maybe a little too quickly

“Um, maybe the fact that you’re smiling bigger than the Joker at the moment.” Luke said

“Or the fact that you look like Reggie after he sees someone walking a puppy.” Julie added

“They’re so small!” Reggie practically squealed.

“Okay, so maybe something happened,” he started. He told them the rest of the story and they all looked at him.

“Okay, so someone ran over you with a skateboard, you thought he was cute, and now you’re dopier than Luke was after he drank half a bottle of vodka thinking it was water in eighth grade when he had the flu?” Bobby asked

“For the love of god, that was one time!” Luke exclaimed

“That’s not what happened! Well, okay, fine, that's kinda what happened. But I do not look that dopey!”

“You do look pretty dopey,” Julie added

“Can we change the subject? Luke, how's the new song coming?”

“Great! It should be done soon, I just need to figure out some lines for the bridge!” Luke exclaimed, handing him the notebook. He accepted it and tried to read the page.

“Luke, what does this say?” he asked, pointing at a word written in Luke’s god awful handwriting

“It says ‘Bridge’!”

“Why do the letters look like that?”

“Because the B the D and the G all look the same when you guys write it and my dyslexic brain can’t deal with that!” 

“I- why don’t you just capitalize them?”

“Cause that would look funky.”

“And this doesn't?”

“You all are just jealous that I came with my own font.”

“You don’t- okay,” Alex let out a defeated song as they continued discussing the new song and possible gigs for the month. They left about 2 hours later and Alex found himself thinking about Willie way more often than he probably should have. He chalked it up to just being nervous about the project and called it a day. That's all it was, nothing else, right?

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #jatp au #willie nolastname #willex #willie jatp #alex jatp #alex mercer

[weakzen]

Touch

After another nightmare about Murphy, Mason surprises the Detective with a visit—and a few unexpected things more.

pairing: female detective/mason rating: 18+ warning: smutty smut, trauma, murphy creepiness - see tags on AO3

AO3 version

-

The blood comes closer.

It races forward, whipping around each coil before surging down the straightaways in a rush of crimson. It takes its time somehow too, winding in long, lazy loops, meandering through the tangled labyrinth of tubing so slowly that a fleeting bit of hope tries to spark in my chest.

But I know better. The blood never stops.

It always comes closer.

Isn't it thrilling, Detective?

Closer and closer.

We'll be inseparable after this!

His words jolt me into a sudden frenzy and I thrash against the bindings and the solid weight of his hand pinning my hip to the table. A ragged, primal scream tears from my throat as I jerk and twist until the straps slice into my flesh. I snap forward to bite the needle lodged in my arm, to rip it free with my teeth, but his hand clamps around my neck and slams my head against the table. White light and pain explode into my vision, and his fingers tighten ever-so-slightly in a warning I don't heed.

But it doesn't matter.

No matter how much I struggle, his blood comes closer. Closer and closer.

And there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Fear spikes through me as I continue resisting in a body that begins to feel more and more distant. All I can hear is the loud echo of his heavy, excited panting. All I can smell is his sweat mixed with a sickening metallic tang. And all I can feel is the clammy hand pinched around my thigh, his fingers squeezing with anticipation and—

There will always be a part of me inside of you.

I twist awake from the nightmare with a heaving gasp.

Bile surges hot into my throat and I swallow hard against it. My heart thunders in my chest, pounding something wild and desperate into my skull, into my ears. For a terrifying moment, I can't sense anything except the deafening throb of blood.

But…

Slowly, gradually, it recedes to the sound of rain.

And I finally choke down a long, shuddering breath.

I'm not sure how long I lie there afterward, sucking in air, my body buzzing unpleasantly while I stare at the ceiling, but eventually I become aware of just how warm I am and kick myself free of my joggers and the sheets. A shiver ripples up my spine as my bare legs are exposed, and I absently blow at a few damp strands of hair plastered to my cheek. After another long moment, I sigh and roll over to put my feet on the floor, burying my face in my hands while I wait, once again, for the trembling to die down.

Never thought I'd miss the semester when my roommate's alarm clock blasted me awake every morning while she power-slept through it, but… here I am. Getting more misty-eyed and sentimental by the second.

Ah, the halcyon days when the mystery of who left the dishes in the sink was the biggest concern in my life.

Snorting softly, I crack my neck a few times before I push off the bed and shuffle into the bathroom. I don't bother with the light. Or the mirror. I already know I look like shit. Instead, I hunch over the sink to alternate between drinking from the tap so greedily I start coughing and drowning my face in the cold water. I bury it in a towel afterward too, for good measure, pressing myself so deeply into the cotton that it's actually a little difficult to breathe.

I don't know why I do it. Or why I stay there as long as I do.

Silent. Stiff.

Suffocating.

But I don't pull away.

Not until I hear the faint squeaking of cloth and realize my fingers have twisted themselves into fists and I'm clutching the towel so hard that my hands are shaking. As I stare down at it, something else twists inside me too. Some fierce and overwhelming urge that demands I keep going. That I tear it in half. Rip it up. Shred it apart entirely.

My jaw clenches under the force of it, until my teeth start to squeak too.

Then—for some absurd fucking reason—I picture Nate kneeling over the destroyed towel, a sad little frown on his face as he bemoans the thread count.

And a laugh sputters out of me instead.

It's long and wheezing and only slightly hysterical, but I can't help it. The image is just so— ridiculous and bewildering and, honestly, pretty fucking funny.

As my body shakes with laughter, I drop the towel into the sink and curl forward to put my face in my hands. Tears bead at the corners of my eyes and my stomach starts to hurt from the effort. Tightness cinches around my chest too, and claws up to lodge in my throat. Heat prickles and swells across my face, and my lip trembles and my eyes begin to sting and I suddenly know exactly what's fucking coming.

So I brace against it.

It doesn't matter.

And I hold it back.

It doesn't. It really doesn't.

Until it gradually passes.

It's over and done.

I take a deep, shuddering, and practiced breath afterwards, sniffling just enough to clear it away before I flick the unshed moisture from my eyes.

Then, without another thought, I whip the towel around the rack unharmed and walk back into my room.

I move towards the bed, but I pause as I pass into the cool air flowing in through the window. My arms fold instinctively against it, even though the chill brushes pleasantly across my uncomfortably hot face. I glance over at the damp and tangled mess of sheets awaiting me and frown. I frown harder knowing, as usual, I'll probably only end up twisting around in them until it's too bright to pretend I have a chance of falling back asleep.

And, with that decidedly unappealing thought in mind, I turn to face the rain instead.

The tang of cold moisture and pine drifts inside, and I inhale it eagerly. I always did enjoy late summer in Wayhaven, when the storms roll back in to chase away the heat. The towering dark clouds, the breeze snapping every banner, awning, and flagpole in the Square, the promise of wet earth on the wind and the heavy stillness right before the downpour rips free—it's hard not to get excited in the presence of something so magnificently powerful.

Lightning flickers across the sky as if in agreement, and thunder follows it a few moments later in the distance, a long and low rumble that rattles the glass in the windowpane.

I smile softly, shifting a hand to stroke my neck while the breeze soothes my flushed skin.

Yesterday afternoon seems so distant now, though. I remember that excitement when I left the station, the stupid little grin on my face when it started pouring and Tina's shrieks as she ran back into the doorway to shout goodbye. I remember driving up here too, with my window rolled down, nothing but total contentment in my heart as the rain streaked over the windshield and across my knuckles. And I remember walking into the Warehouse, jacket dripping, and that dull ache of happiness that rolled through me as familiar voices called out in greeting and my eyes fell on the steaming mug waiting by the spot where I usually sit.

I remember it, but… right here, now, alone in the dark once more, it's hard to believe any of it actually happened to me.

It's hard to believe I ever really felt that way at all. It almost seems… borrowed. Like all of its brightness belongs to someone else entirely.

And this shit, right now, is what I truly am—and all I'll ever know.

A familiar tightness claws up my throat again. My eyes start to sting.

"Scared of the storm, sweetheart?"

I startle immediately and startle hard.

My attention snaps to the doorway, only to recognize a dark and familiar figure leaning against the frame.

Fuck—I hadn't even heard him open the door! Or knock, I want to add, before I remember it's Mason and doors are one of the few things he actually won't do.

Shit.

I take a deep breath, roll my shoulders back and shoot him a smirk that I don't really feel.

"Petrified.”

Mason smirks in return. "Then maybe I should come in and make you feel safe. Hold you very close to me until it passes."

I can't help the soft chuckle that escapes my lips as I glance away. My arms folds a bit tighter around myself and I shift slightly on the spot. “Not sure I'm in the mood for that kind of comfort right now.”

“Lucky for you, that's not the only kind I can offer.”

My brow arcs in question—and curiosity. I'm not sure how much I believe him, but… I am always interested to see what he'll try.

Without looking away from the window, I give him a small nod of invitation to come in.

The door clicks shut, and heat soon radiates across my bare skin through the loose, open-backed shirt I wore to bed. Mason's hands slide over my hips from behind, his fingers splaying briefly, giving just the slightest squeeze, before he wraps his arms around me and settles them into a fold beneath my own. He rests his chin on top of my head too—something new he's started doing lately, though I suppose I am at perfect chin-resting height—and he gently pulls me back against him.

A sigh escapes me as he does, louder than I would've intended. And maybe he wasn't entirely bullshitting about that comfort.

Because I can't deny just how damn good it feels to be held by him, even now.

My eyes flutter shut as I sink further into his warmth and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Smoke and sandalwood envelop me, as does another scent underlying both, something dark and pleasantly rich and unmistakably him. Something familiar too, achingly so, that makes my breath hitch over the sudden and unexpected swell of fondness spreading across my chest.

My shoulders sag, my head tilts back, and the tension knotted around my throat loosens. His chest rises and falls against my own breathing, sometimes aligning so we press together fully on an inhale, and I slowly realize I don't think I've never felt this relaxed in anyone's arms before.

That is, until I also realize he definitely felt every part of my reaction—right down to the slightest bit of movement—and I inwardly cringe.

Thankfully, at least, he doesn't care enough to comment about any of it. I cringe a little further, hoping that small mercy extends to anything he witnessed while he stood in the doorway.

Or noticed before he opened the door.

My back stiffens again as I try not to think about just how far he can hear across the Warehouse… I bite my lip to suppress a groan.

“How long were you standing there anyway?"

"Long enough."

A weak chuckle escapes me. “Well, that's not embarrassing…”

“'Cause there's nothing to be embarrassed about,” he states, his words delivered so casually and matter-of-fact that there's no room to doubt his belief in them. “Especially not with the view you provide,” he adds, his voice dipping into a low rumble.

I chuckle again despite my unease—and my surprise. A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. “Glad to know I add a little brightness to your morning too, sunshine.”

His scoff ruffles my hair and I swear I can almost feel his eyeroll. My smile widens.

I lean against him even further, and his arms tighten around me in response. Comfortable silence blankets us, as it often does, and I try to relax into it, into him, closing my eyes once more as my fingers trace idle paths over my neck. The gentle downpour continues outside, steady in its intensity with soft, irregular tings and the occasional roll of thunder.

“Guess the rain ruined your rooftop solitude this morning,” I murmur absently.

"I wouldn't call it ruined."

I hum in acknowledgment and my attention slowly returns to the storm. The rain falls lighter now than it did earlier, when I made the decision—because of Nate's unusually strong encouragement, even for him—to spend the night at the Warehouse rather than drive back into town. Something about my car having 'questionable traction, even under ideal circumstances' and 'certainly a lot of spirit, if not much else,' to which I countered that he and everyone else needed to start having some faith in the most reliable, tenacious, and clearly valuable member of our team.

I mean, a muddy road is nothing. That car has already survived the jerks, stops, and stalled clutches of a teenager with a learner's permit, four years of designated driving for sloppy, belligerent classmates, overnight parking on some of Vancouver's shittiest streets, a hockey riot, Tina spilling a full milkshake across the dash, Adam crashing into it from multiple angles, Mason doing his damnedest to destroy the suspension from the backseat, aggressive karaoke in the front seat with Felix, a standoff with a fucking moose, and that's not even half of what I can remember.

And even after all of that, it continues to rumble along, coasting like it has a full tank when the fuel gauge dips into the red, rattling change loose from its crevices whenever I want a coffee, providing occasional shelter to the neighborhood family of raccoons.

I just think it deserves a little more respect is all. But I know they'll all come around eventually.

Even if I have to make them.

I grin—though it falters somewhat as my fingertips brush over the scar on my neck.

It… feels worse than it looks, in more than one way. Which is a fucking shame, if not completely fitting, because of course that asshole didn't even have the decency to leave me with a badass scar. All this one does is pull uncomfortably if I turn my head too far, but… it doesn't bother me anymore, not really.

My fingers stop directly above the pulse throbbing beneath those gnarled ridges and dips.

It doesn't matter.

Frowning, I continue to stroke my neck, more intently than I had before. And maybe that's why, or maybe it's the nightmare still wrapped fresh around my mind, or the fact it rained that night too, but the memory of Murphy's bite suddenly slams into me as hard as his mouth did.

He chewed a little.

When I fumbled for my throat, my fingers slid across torn flesh into muscle. The blood burned my hand as it poured out. Slick. Hot. A stream of wet fire rushing over my fingers and down my arm to drip from my elbow, down the middle of my chest, my stomach, sinking heat into my underwear and the cold, sweat-soaked gown plastered to my skin.

It burned sickeningly hot, but not as much as Murphy's tongue did, when he dragged it up the length of my neck and pushed it into me.

I startle hard when my hand is suddenly snatched from my neck.

“You always this tense when it rains?”

“I'm not tense,” I say unthinkingly, then cringe at my obvious lie.

Mason scoffs and smirks so hard I can feel it through my skull.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding. “I'm just, uh… stiff with appreciation.”

His smirk widens. “What a coincidence—”

“—So am I,” I say at the same time as him, then roll my eyes. He laughs, his body shaking against my own, and I can't help but smile too. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

“I'm sure you do, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a few lingering kisses to the spot I was just touching. He squeezes me tighter for a moment, then folds our arms back around me, his hand tucked over my own.

I take a deep breath and try to relax once more.

“…I actually really like storms,” I say a moment later, in an attempt to keep my mind from wandering again.

“So do I.” Silence briefly falls over us again, until he adds, “The air always smells cleaner when it rains. Sharper, in a good way. And there's so much noise all at once, it all kind of… blends together and almost fades away. Makes everything else fade away too.”

My eyes fall shut again as I enjoy the rumble of his words against my back. “Makes everybody flee inside as well.”

He snorts. “That's always a nice bonus for anything.”

I hum in response. Then he surprises me by speaking further.

“…I don't like being out in it much either.”

“Because it's cold?”

“Freezing, yeah. But more because it stings.” His fingers twitch slightly against the top of mine. “Feels like being stabbed over and over again by millions of tiny needles.”

I hesitate for a moment, briefly pressing my lips together, then I slide my fingers upwards to lace partway through his. Mason stills behind me, and I don't need to turn around to know he's pinning me with a gaze.

Then his fingers curl between mine in response.

A pleasant ache twists in my chest, and I give a small nod toward the window. “…Does it feel that way even in something gentle, like this?”

“If I stand out in it long enough, yeah.”

I huff softly. “Guess showering can't be much fun for you then.”

He chuckles deeply, squeezing me in a decidedly more suggestive manner as he presses his hips forward. “You're always welcome to join me and make it better.”

I open my mouth to reply, but quickly forget what I meant to say as I actually think about his proposal. More specifically, as I think about sliding against his wet and soapy skin. And his hands gliding across mine. And, of course, the fact that he's more than strong enough to hold me up against the wall…

My breath hitches as I bite my lower lip—and Mason descends, grinning, to hook his chin on my shoulder.

“You want me to tuck you in, sweetheart?” he asks, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a pleasant shiver down my body.

“Why do I get the feeling the way you'd tuck me in is identical to the way you toss me down for a fuck?”

He chuckles. “Because they are the same. You just aren't naked right now.”

“That's it?” I turn to face him, my brow raised and a growing smirk on my lips. “Not even gonna offer me a little tenderness and care?”

“Nope,” he replies simply—then scoops me up over his shoulder like he's done so many times in the past.

For a moment, my mind jumps back to when he first carried me like this, over that tree so long ago, but the thought disappears when he unceremoniously dumps me onto the mattress.

I huff and roll over into a somewhat more dignified position. “Thanks.”

“You can thank me when I'm done.” Amusement and desire play across his darkened features.

“Yeah? What else do you need to do?”

“You, obviously.”

I laugh, but the thought is rather tempting right now. Far more so than when he first showed up…

“May I join you?” he asks, his voice dipping into a husky rumble. There's a sharp gleam in his eyes and a hungry grin on his lips.

An answering one pulls at my own lips. “You know the rule.”

His grin widens. “It's the only one I actually like,” he growls before practically tearing his shirt off.

No street clothes in my bed, I told him once, the first time he tried to flop onto my duvet in jeans. Only house clothes and underwear are allowed—or nudity.

And he wastes no time getting to that state.

I scoot over to make room for him, though he still manages to sprawl out practically on top of me as he flops into the bed. He stretches out with exaggerated laziness before folding his arms behind his head and fixing me with a smirk. It's obvious he's temping me to look at him.

And, of course, I do.

The dim light coming in through the window softens the muscled planes of his body. I let my gaze roam over the long and familiar lines of his form, biting my lip as I take in the contours of his bare shoulders and chest, the ridges of his abs, and the trail of dark hair leading down his stomach to the very apparent arousal on full display.

“Look as much as you want, sweetheart,” he purrs, letting his thigh fall atop my own as he spreads his legs even wider.

Chuckling softly, I let my eyes linger there for a moment before I glance back to his face, where it's clearly evident he's been enjoying the attention. I roll onto my side just as lazily and prop my head up on one arm. Then I reach over to skim my other hand down his torso, keeping my palm flat and close enough to his skin to feel his warmth, but not close enough to actually touch him.

He watches my movement intently, breathing in through his teeth as my hand moves lower and lower. When I reach his cock, I curl my hand around the base as though I'm about to grasp him, my fingers circling closer and closer as I move my hand up his length—but right as I'm about to make contact, I keep moving, closing my hand into a fist after it passes by the tip entirely.

His hips roll forward to follow, and I grin as he lets out a frustrated growl.

“But don't touch?” I ask, giving him a wink.

Mason scoffs, but the broad smile on his face says the teasing pleased him more than anything else. He licks his upper lip and scoots closer to me, until we're pressed together, his side against my front, and his face close to mine on the pillow below.

“You can touch as much as you want,” he replies, gazing up at me through half-lidded eyes and long dark lashes. He begins to slowly rub his leg against mine. “And I know you want to.”

His words rumble over me, low, invitingly, and very accurately. I inhale slightly as he nudges his knee against my legs, asking me to part them—then more sharply as I oblige and he slides his thigh between my own, although not quite as high up as I would like.

Heat spools low in my belly as I rock my hips forward slightly, leaning into his warmth. My gaze travels up our bodies. Our bare legs tangled together. The sliver of my stomach brushing against his skin where my shirt is pulled up. The rise and fall of his chest, just waiting for me to reach over and touch him for real this time.

But a question surfaces in my mind before I do. A concern.

Something I've wondered about for a long while now, but has been in my thoughts with more frequency lately.

Because he's been touching me more lately, outside of the bedroom.

A lot.

Pressing his shoulder against mine when we stand by each other for a group meeting. Splaying his hand across my back while we lean over to examine something. Reaching over to brush strands of hair from my face after I blow them away in annoyance.

And a multitude of other tiny ways to try and fluster me because words alone rarely cut it anymore.

I've played back with my own teasing touches, of course, but…

It's a lot of effort on his part just to get a reaction out of me. A lot of painful effort too, for someone so hypersensitive that even a gentle rainfall against his skin could cause agony.

Much less what it must feel like for him when he's exposed like this and touched so directly.

So intimately.

I glance back up to catch his gaze, only to find him already watching me with those pretty grey eyes.

“…Doesn't it hurt you, though?” I ask quietly, before I can stop myself. “Being touched when your senses are so heightened?”

All trace of amusement and desire drops from his face instantly. He frowns and looks away.

I glance away as well, regret lurching in my stomach to an almost sickening degree. My fingers curl around the hem of my shirt and begin twisting the fabric.

Of course I had to fucking ask. Of course.

I know this… arrangement between Mason and myself is superficial and meaningless, even if the more stupidly curious part of me sometimes forgets. I've always appreciated his honesty about that, how upfront he's been from the very start about not wanting to know me or share himself. After how hard Bobby almost fucked me over… it's a relief to be around someone so direct about his intent.

Someone who isn't going to pretend to care about me in order to get what he actually wants.

Mason would never do that. He's a good guy. We have a good thing. And I don't want to fuck things up between us just because I'm terminally fucking nosy.

I shouldn't have pried. And definitely not about something like that.

I take a low, steadying breath and ready an apology on my lips, but his voice cuts through the silence first.

“Yes.”

My eyes snap to his face, only to find him already staring at me again. There's a strange, piercing intensity in those grey depths now, something I've never seen there before.

“It does, most of the time,” he continues, holding my gaze, his brow furrowing and his jaw tightening slightly as he pauses for a moment. “…But not with you.”

My breath snags over his words and suddenly it's my turn to look away and frown.

I want to dismiss it as just… more innuendo. An obvious invitation to slip out of my shirt and roll on top of him. And I'm sure he meant it like that, and I'm sure he wants that too, I know, but…

There's an edge to his tone. A heaviness to his words.

Like the calm and undeniable weight of a storm before it breaks.

My stomach does an uneasy flip, and I don't know if it's because I'm scared of whatever it means—or because I'm excited.

I really don't know what to say in response, either.

…So I don't say anything.

I just…

Thunder rumbles somewhere far away from us as I reach over and brush my fingers across Mason's stomach.

His eyes shut and he inhales sharply through his teeth as I slowly flatten my hand and begin caressing him there. His abs dip and roll with my movement, and his hips join the motion when I start to tease my fingers further down. I stay there, just long enough to give him some hope, my fingers inching closer and ever closer, until I abruptly change direction to the sound of another frustrated groan.

Chuckling quietly, I keep my touch soft as I follow the path of dark hair up his torso. My fingers ruffle it lightly along the way, briefly detouring out across his freckled skin to graze his nipples. He moans quietly in response, and chills prickle across his flesh. His chest rises and falls as he takes a deep breath, and I continue upward, passing the cords of leather looped around his neck, the shard of quartz catching the faint light, until my fingers glide into the hollow at the base of his throat.

Slowly, I draw a single finger up the long column of his neck. His head falls back to allow it, his chin rising in the air, his body arching too, as my fingertip drags up through his heavy stubble and briefly catches on the edge of his jaw before it flicks free. His tongue darts across his lips, but I don't give him time to recover before my hand immediately veers in to cup his cheek, gliding slowly again until he's nestled fully in my palm. I roll my thumb across his soft, slickened lips as his hand slides up my side.

Desire churns in his eyes as he stares into mine. Desire and that same strange intensity.

My breath snags again and I bite my own lip, dragging my thumb to the edge of his, until it catches and flicks free.

Then I kiss him.

I keep it as soft as my touch, even as his lips press eagerly against mine, even as it deepens until we moan into each other. Our tongues slide together, hot and wet, and I lean into him, pulling my hand away from my head to find the arm he still has folded behind his. Our fingers immediately lace together when our hands meet, and he curls his other arm around my back to pull me against him. Our kiss becomes more urgent as we move together, his thigh sliding further up between mine as a familiar heat begins to build and throb between my legs.

We're forced to break for air eventually, our foreheads pressing together as we pant against each other. I swipe my thumb across his cheek and give him a brief kiss.

Mason breathes out a moan and kisses me back. “It always feels good when you're touching me,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick and hoarse.

A smirk twitches at the corner of my mouth, and I move as though I'm about to start kissing him in earnest again—but instead I only graze my lips against his before I pull away. He follows again, and then breathes out a chuckle against my mouth as he reaches down to smack my ass.

A sharp laugh bursts from me and I offer him a sly smile. “Even when I'm teasing you?”

“Especially when you're teasing me,” he replies, a smile of his own gleaming in his eyes.

He kisses me briefly, then moves his mouth to my neck, where he presses wet kisses against my skin before grazing his teeth over that spot he knows I like. Chills of pleasure ripple across my body, and I inhale sharply as his thigh starts to glide higher between mine, closer and tantalizingly closer to the ache between my legs. I roll my hips forward to meet him—but just as we're about to make contact, just as I can feel the heat and the barest brush of him through my underwear, he pulls away entirely.

And suddenly it's my turn to groan.

“Makes it all the sweeter when I get to pay you back for it,” he whispers against my ear, grinning.

I smile too, even as I huff a little in response and roll my eyes. Then I reach down to grab his cock, teasing my fingers along his length.

“Guess this means I'll just have to put my hands on you even more often.”

“As much as you want, sweetheart,” he groans, his eyes shuttering closed as he grabs my ass and squeezes. “As often as you want.”

We kiss again, and his hand moves up to cup my breast, his thumb briefly circling my nipple through the fabric before he slides his touch to my stomach, to the bare flesh exposed at the bottom of my shirt. He strokes my skin there, breaking away from our kiss to look into my eyes as he nudges the fabric up with his thumb.

“And I'm more than willing to do the same for you,” he states simply, staring at me with such a heavy intensity that it feels like I might actually fall into his gaze.

His words are innuendo. A silent ask for permission. A promise of pleasure.

And something more.

Again, my breath hitches and my stomach does a tiny flip. Again, I'm not sure what to say in response.

…But, whatever he's offering, I think I want to find out.

I think maybe I want it too.

So I kiss him again while he slides his hand under my shirt.

His thigh surges up fully against me, dragging sweet pressure against the heat between my legs. I moan into him, tightening, squeezing his leg between mine as I grind against him. We move together like that, hands still clasped tightly, while he kneads my breast and I stroke him the best I can from what our position allows.

But it's not enough—and soon we're forced to briefly disentangle so we can reach each other better.

He rolls onto his side to face me, and I hook my leg over him, giving him ample access to cup me through my underwear. His fingers stroke and tease me through the damp fabric before he slips his hand inside to touch me more directly. I gasp as he does, and he grins, giving me a low growl of appreciation when he feels the full extent of how wet I already am.

He strokes his fingers along the slickened length of me before drawing upward to circle my clit. I bite my lip and hiss as hot pleasure arcs through me, but I can't contain the moan that soon breaks free, or the way my hips start to rock against his touch. I capture his lips in another kiss as I drown in the sensation, and I do my best to concentrate on him as well.

My hand glides along the hot and solid length of his cock, rolling his foreskin along his shaft as my thumb swipes over the sticky wetness at his tip. He groans against my lips and thrusts into my grasp. Then he slides his fingers into me, not giving me any time to recover before he withdraws and plunges back in, drawing his strokes in long lengths that hit my clit with each pass and tear sharp, guttural cries from my throat.

Pleasure coils inside me as our foreheads press together. We exchange moans and gasping breaths, the only noise in the room aside from the rain and the slick sound of his fingers fucking into my cunt.

But even that stops too soon, as Mason withdraws from me with a departing flick that makes me twitch and groan.

He slides his fingers into his mouth as he holds my gaze, sucking on them for a moment before pulling them out with a deliberate pop.

Then he wraps his hand around the crotch of my underwear and yanks them down my thighs.

I barely have time to kick myself free of them before he rolls me into his lap between his legs. My shirt soon follows, as he sits up to tear it off me and toss it somewhere into the darkness. I shift my legs to curl around behind him and he's already kissing me again, pulling me against him. I taste myself on his tongue as it rolls against mine, as we roll against each other, his hands clutching my hips and my fingers curling into his hair and the sweet, aching grind of his shaft rubbing against my cunt between us.

But it's not enough.

I lift my hips up and his hand is already wrapped around the base of his cock, steadying it for me. Holding his gaze, I slide myself against the tip a few times, watching the anticipation build in his expression.

Then I sink down onto him.

We both groan loudly. And he groans even louder as I wiggle my hips back and forth to get as much of him inside of me as possible.

Grinning briefly, I wrap my arms around him as we begin to move again.

Mason swipes my hair away from my neck and buries his face there, kissing greedily while his hands curl around my ass and squeeze. Heat begins to build between us, slowly and deeply, as we rock together. Sweat prickles across our skin where we touch, a few beads trickling down between the press and roll of our stomachs. I push my face into the soft curtain of his hair and breathe, inhaling his scent, until his teeth graze that spot on my neck and tear a gasp from my throat.

My head falls back and my hand follows.

I fumble behind myself to brace my weight on my arm, leaning away from him slightly until I find that sweet angle where pleasure surges and drags in a loop with every thrust. My eyes fall shut, breathy moans escaping me as I drive myself against him and begin rubbing my clit with slickened fingers. He curls his hands around my hips in encouragement, snarling his own urgent groans while he rolls his hips in time with mine.

My hair sways against my back, and I lose myself in a haze of sensation, in our moans, in how good he feels, how much he fills me, the heat of him between my legs, the aching throb, the spiraling build of pleasure against every right spot—

A breathy, desperate, needy growl cuts through all of it, something I've never heard before.

Something I briefly mistake for my own.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart.”

My eyes snap open to see Mason staring at me intently with dark eyes, dark waves of hair framing his face.

And his fangs fully bared.

My heart catches for a moment—and his eyes widen a little in surprise.

Then all I feel is an electric and overwhelming thrill surge through my entire body.

His eyes widen even further.

Even so, our rhythm barely stutters. I fall into it again, my eyes shutting as my head falls back too.

Another growl escapes him, softer this time, but still just as breathlessly needy. Then his hands slide up my back as he pulls me closer.

“C'mere.”

Mason's arm cradles my lower back as he holds me tightly against him. His hand curls behind my neck and my breasts crush against his chest hair as we move. He shifts us and his hips slightly, until everything aligns once more to hit all the right spots. I sigh deeply as he does, moaning and clutching him hard while we rock back and forth towards the edge.

His movements become more intense and directed to guide us there. His fingers tangle in my hair and he buries his face into my neck, kissing along my throat as our breathing become more urgent. I tilt my head and angle myself into his lips and his tongue and his growling moans.

And into the tips of his fangs that graze across my skin and jolt me straight over—

A familiar tension coils in my throat and belly.

“Fuck, Mason—”

And bursts into pleasure.

I cry out and arch into it, into him, clenching tightly as it pulses through me in waves. With a few harder thrusts, he shudders against me quickly after, his own orgasm taking him with a loud groan. He presses his face into my neck and breathes heavily, so much that I almost miss the quiet and ragged whisper that escapes his lips.

“Alex…”

I don't know why, but… even in the haze of climax, something about the way he says my name catches in my throat and makes my chest ache.

My brow furrows and I hug him tighter, pressing my own kisses into his neck.

We stay wrapped in the afterglow for a long moment, our heartbeats thundering together, both of us unmoving except for the rise and fall of our chests and the late twitches of pleasure. A pleasant buzz fills my body, making my limbs tremble slightly. I relax into it, my eyes slowly falling shut, until he shifts to press his forehead against mine.

He stares at me for a long moment, a lazy smile gracing his lips and nothing but contentment in those beautiful grey eyes.

Then he smirks.

“If I knew you'd like the fangs so much, sweetheart, I would've brought them out a lot sooner.”

Heat immediately flushes across my cheeks. His smirk widens, revealing the smallest hint of pointed canines.

Despite my blush, I roll my eyes and try to scoff, but a smile tugs at my lips and a laugh comes out instead. He grins too, but his eyes soon flutter shut, and it's only when a breathy little groan escapes him as well do I remember that he's actually still inside of me.

So, of course, I clench around his cock slightly for effect.

He inhales sharply, but it quickly drags into a chuckle and a broad smile. His eyes shine brightly as he moves in to bite my neck, growling as he teases his teeth against my skin. Chills prickle across my flesh and a pleasant shiver ripples down my spine. I laugh again, then hook my chin over his shoulder, smiling as I nestle against him.

My eyes fall shut, and a quiet swell of happiness rolls through me as I savor the moment. The rain falling outside, the cool night air brushing over us, the feel of him clutching me tighter as he sighs and presses a long kiss to my neck.

I sigh too, heavy with comfort and contentment, reluctant to move. Even to brush away the strand of hair tickling the side of my face from the breeze.

I absently blow at it, knowing it won't do much.

Mason reaches up to tuck it behind my ear.

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #twc mason #twc m #mason #the detective #zfic #alex/mason #alexandra black