#as he hears seven for the first time on the radio in the car

[btsbs]

.

[luveline]

Hey jade, I hope you had a good Christmas,

Love your writing so much it brings me so much serotonin 🤣🤣 I have a request for hotch if you’d be up to it, I just love this man’s patience and understanding and would love to see him interact with reader who struggles with sex? Or just sexual stuff in general, like maybe she feels really embarrassed about it and doesn’t know how to talk about it with him? Idk if this is something you’d be interested in just thought I’d throw it out there. Regardless, I can’t wait to see what you post next ♥️♥️♥️

hotch lends you some comfort when a certain topic flusters you, 1.1k

cw adult themes, mdni 

“It's almost cheaper to have kids.” 

You scoop your gaze from the deodorants. “What?” you ask, looking first to Hotch, and then to his eyeline. “Oh.” 

The grocery store boasts a few rows of contraceptives. Condoms, dental dams, and under that, lubes and stimulants in candy rainbow colours. Thirty one ninety nine for silicone-free, aloe vera flavoured lube. Twenty seven for o-gel. 

You avert your gaze without fact-checking him on the condoms, laughing awkwardly as your heart races. “Right.” 

“I'm kidding. Just feeding Jack is a surprising expense.” He says surprising like it's delightful. “Good thing we have cushy jobs.” 

Oh, he's feeling funny tonight. Your laugh is authentic as he takes your arm, the basket in his other clinking as he starts forward again. You finish your quick stock up and Hotch pays for your things despite your protests, packing you and the bags into his ‘cushy’ car. 

You're a little embarrassed in the passenger seat. Your relationship with Hotch is complicated in that while you're in the official early days, you pined for a long time. You're undoubtedly in love with him, and though he's your boss and your senior, he seems to have taken a similar liking to you, hence another chilled out date night upon his invitation. And you've you've messed around like teenagers with kisses too hot and hands wandering, but you haven't fucked, and it's a problem, because your usual awkwardness around the subject grows bigger the longer you wait. 

Hotch can wait forever if he wants, you're not trying to rush him. If he wanted to fuck you tonight you'd probably be too nervous anyhow. 

You can't talk about condoms. How are you going to cope when you have to use one? 

Your stomach churns the longer you think about it. Hotch doesn't react at first, but you know he's figured you out when he covers your hand atop your knee and gives it a squeeze. You okay?

“Can we turn on the radio?” you ask. 

His hand lifts away slowly. He turns on the radio, and you think, oh, he's mad. No, not mad. Irritated, maybe, or confused. That's not fair to him. You think it anyway, sick to your stomach as he parks in the parking garage under his building and you make your way up. 

He doesn't pull any punches —as soon as you're inside with your shoes off and the door locked, he puts the groceries on the counter and looks at you until you meet his eyes. 

“I'm sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” you ask, startled. 

“I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to imply anything before you're ready.” He's handsome like this, earnest, his eyebrows raised and an inviting palm held open on the counter beside him. “It was a poorly judged joke.” 

“No, no, I,” —you bring a hand to your mouth, cover it, uncover it— “don't mind if you want to joke about it. It would be weird to care, right?” 

He hears an insecurity in your tone you don't mean to reveal, and he pieces it together swiftly. Understanding lines his eyes. “I don't think so,” he murmurs. 

You're embarrassed beyond words, but he is your boyfriend. He asked with a little expensive bracelet and your favourite baked treat from the bakery near work. You'd only ever mentioned it once, but he remembered. He knows you well, and he's never given you reason to be afraid of his reactions. 

“It's just so embarrassing,” you mumble, staring down at your socks. 

“What is?” he asks, crossing the kitchen to take your hands. “You don't have to be embarrassed about anything, you're perfect.” 

Your breath catches, your neck cracking uncomfortably as you look up. “I– I don't know how to talk about it. I know it's childish.” 

“No, it's not. It's a big thing, and it comes naturally to some people, but not everyone.” His brow furrows a little, the warm depth of his voice working to unspool the tight panic you'd been clinging to, “I'd never push you to do something you're not ready for.” 

“I know that. It's not you. And I don't know if I'm ready or not, it's just–” Your face is hot enough to boil rain. You shake your head. It's too difficult to explain. 

Hotch ushers you into his solid chest. “It's okay,” he says, patting your back gently. “Don't worry about it.” 

“I want us to be like everyone else,” you confess. 

“We are. You're not the first woman to get nervous about the idea of intimacy, sweetheart, I promise. And I'm not the first man to make a bad joke about contraceptives.” He laughs as you laugh, two huffing chuckles as he presses his lips to the top of your head. “You can take as much time as you need to get used to the idea, and if it's still weird when you're ready, does it matter? We'll be weird about it together. Or we won't be. Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay… thank you, Aaron.” 

“I waited a long, long time for this,” he says, giving your back a pointed little squeeze. “And it's more than I ever thought I'd get. I'm not worried about the rest. I'm in no rush, and you shouldn't be either.” 

You hide your face in his chest for a while, somehow more embarrassed than when you'd started. He draws lines up and down your back with his palm patiently. “It's okay,” he says again, kissing the side of your face. After a moment, he encourages your head back with a hand on your cheek, checking your expression carefully before leaning in for a kiss. His hair tickles your forehead. 

To your relief, it doesn't make you nervous. He probably never could, not when he's touching you so softly. 

You're feeling a hundred times better when you pull away. A tad mortified still, but relieved to know your struggle with talking about it isn't a turn off. If he can stick with you through this bump in the road, you can try, at least, to overcome it. 

“Is lube really thirty two dollars?” you ask in a whisper. 

“I don't know. I've never needed it.” 

He spends the next ten minutes laughing and apologising sincerely as steam pours out of your ears. 

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part seven

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Seven - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 2k

The road stretches out before us, a seemingly endless ribbon of asphalt cutting through the desolate landscape. The car, a beat-up old muscle car with a purring engine that speaks of too many miles and too many battles, rumbles beneath us. The seats are worn, their once-plush leather now cracked and faded, much like the people riding in them. The air inside is stale, carrying the faint scent of gasoline and sweat, mingled with the metallic tang of blood that seems to cling to everything we touch.

I lean back, my body sinking into the seat as I close my eyes, trying to find a moment of respite. The gentle vibration of the road beneath the tires lulls me into a light, uneasy doze. But it’s not enough—never enough—to ward off the nightmares that wait just beyond the veil of sleep. Images of my world, my friends, everything I’ve ever known, shattered and dying, claw at the edges of my consciousness. The sounds of their screams, the scent of burning flesh, it all lingers, just out of reach, waiting to pounce the moment I let my guard down.

When I open my eyes again, the car is still moving, the road still stretching endlessly ahead. The world outside is a blur, the trees we’ve been driving in continue on for ages, but I can tell we’re close. Inside, the only sound is the soft strains of music playing from the car’s ancient radio, a static-laced tune that feels like a ghost from a time long past. It’s quiet—too quiet—yet I cling to this moment of calm like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

“You enjoy your power nap, pumpkin?” Wade’s voice slices through the quiet, shattering the fragile peace I’d managed to find. The nickname, as ridiculous as it is, grates on my nerves. I groan, my eyes fluttering shut again, hoping to block him out.

“It was so peaceful before you opened your mouth,” I mumble, my voice thick with irritation. There’s a part of me that just wants to hold onto the silence, to bask in it a little longer before reality comes crashing back in.

Wade’s gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror, his expression playful, as if he’s completely oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface. “I don’t hear Logan complaining.” 

Logan, sitting stoically beside Wade, rolls his eyes. The subtle gesture, the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel, tells me more than words ever could. I chuckle softly, a hollow sound that barely covers the unease gnawing at my insides. 

Then, as if he’s compelled to break the fragile truce, Wade blurts out, “Okay, I’m just gonna ask it. What’s with the suit?”

My gaze drifts to Logan, to the yellow X-Men suit he’s wearing. It’s a jarring sight, one that doesn’t fit the image I have of him—rugged, battle-worn, but never in something so bright, so out of place in this bleak world. The realization hits me hard: I’ve never seen him wear it before.

“The first thing I did when I flamed out, I took mine off,” Wade continues, his tone light, almost mocking, but there’s a sharpness beneath it that makes my skin prickle.

Logan’s response is immediate, his voice low and edged with warning. “Drop it.”

But Wade, relentless as ever, presses on. “It’s not that ugly.”

“Stop talking about the suit,” Logan snaps, his irritation growing palpable in the confined space of the car.

Wade, ever oblivious to danger or perhaps simply indifferent to it, persists. “Did you make it yourself? Been there.”

Logan’s tone darkens, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Quit now.”

But Wade doesn’t quit. He never does. “The X-Men make you wear it? Those sons of fucking bitches. They are not your friends, I’ll tell you that. Friends don’t let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the Los Angeles Rams.”

The words hang in the air, and I feel the tension coiling tighter, a noose around my throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the mention of friends—our friends—who are no longer here, no longer anything but ghosts in a broken world.

“Shut the fuck up about the suit,” Logan’s voice is a razor, slicing through the air. It’s ice-cold, and for a moment, I flinch at the intensity of it.

Wade raises his hands in mock surrender, but there’s a seriousness to his tone that wasn’t there before. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Watch your frown lines, angel baby. I’m just trying to bond a little bit.”

“Yeah, well then talk about something else,” Logan’s patience is fraying, each word a thread pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Fine.” Wade’s voice shifts, losing its edge. “If they can fix your world, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out of here? Rubbing alcohol shots? Maybe a wiper fluid chaser?”

The word “If” lodges itself in my mind like a splinter, unraveling the fragile grip I have on my emotions. My ears start ringing, and suddenly, I’m not in the car anymore. The world blurs, and I see it—Wade, punching Logan in the face. The vision is jarring, disorienting, and then, just as quickly, I’m yanked back to the present.

“What did you say?” Logan’s voice is sharp, pulling me out of the haze, grounding me in the here and now.

Wade, his confusion plain, repeats himself. “So when you get back, what’s the first thing you’re gonna do?”

“No, no, no, before that,” Logan insists, his eyes narrowing, his suspicion flaring.

Wade hesitates, and I can see the moment he realizes his mistake. “If… they can fix your world?”

Logan’s expression hardens, anger and betrayal flashing in his eyes. Without warning, he slams on the brakes, the car screeching to a halt. The sudden stop jolts me forward, but it’s the look on Logan’s face that makes my heart skip a beat. “What do you mean if?”

“I mean…” Wade falters, his bravado crumbling as he struggles to find the right words.

Logan’s voice is a dangerous growl, the kind that makes your blood run cold. “You lied to me. You don’t have a fucking clue if they can help me fix things, do you?”

“No, I mean… No, fuck! Fuck!” Wade stammers, but it’s too late. The truth is out, and Logan’s claws are already extending, a deadly promise in his eyes. Before Wade can react, Logan stabs him in the leg.

Wade yelps, the pain clear in his voice. “I didn’t lie!”

“You lied,” Logan hisses, his voice as cold as the steel in his hands.

I sit in the back, overwhelmed by a tidal wave of guilt and the crushing realization that there’s no undoing what’s already been done. I could have stopped this. I should have stopped this. But it’s too late now—too late to change anything.

Wade, his tone desperate, tries to explain. “No, I made an educated wish. Because I need you.” He pulls out a photo, his hands shaking slightly as he holds it out for Logan to see. “This, this is why. Right here. Because if we don’t do something, they die. I don’t know anything about saving worlds. Why would I even care? Because my entire world is right here in this picture. It’s only nine people, and I have no idea how to save it alone. I know how to fuck people up for money, but you, you know how to save them. At least the other Wolverine did.”

Wade’s voice cracks, a rare moment of vulnerability slipping through his usual bravado. “Oh, fuck!” Logan twists his wrist. “I guess I’m stuck with the worst one.”

Logan’s eyes narrow, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. “Did you say you made an educated fucking wish?”

“They call me the Merc with the Mouth,” Wade tries to regain his usual humor, but it falls flat. “They don’t call me Truthful Timmy, the blowjob queen of Saskatoon.”

Logan’s hand twitches, his control slipping. “One more,” he demands, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “Please, give me one.”

Wade, ever the joker, tries to lighten the mood. “Gubernatorial.”

But Logan is beyond reason now. He goes to stab Wade again, but Wade screams, the sound tearing through the car, reverberating off the walls of my mind. I’m sitting in the back, too shocked to move, too numb to process what’s happening. There’s no saving what I’ve done. No changing the hurt I could have stopped.

Logan turns to Wade, his voice dripping with contempt, his words a knife twisting in the wound. “You know what, you’re a fucking joke. No wonder the Avengers didn’t take you. Or the X-Men—they’ll take fucking anyone. I mean, you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. I have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering little prick in my entire life. And that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than 200 fucking years. I’ll tell ya, that bald chick was right. You will never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper. Motherfucker, I wish I could say you’d die alone, but it’s one of God’s best jokes that you can’t die, except that’s on all of us!” He slams his fist on the top of the car, the metal groaning under the force, and I flinch, my heart skipping a beat. The tension in the air is so thick it feels like it’s suffocating me, wrapping around my throat and squeezing until I can hardly breathe.

Logan stares at him, his eyes filled with a mix of pity and disgust. “You got nothing to say, Mouth?”

Wade flinches, the words cutting deeper than any blade ever could. His usual bravado crumbles, and for a moment, he looks like a lost child, the weight of everything finally breaking through the armor he’s built around himself. He looks away, his eyes dull, and when he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “I’m gonna fight you now.”

Logan chuckles darkly, the sound devoid of humor, and I feel my stomach churn, the dread pooling in the pit of my gut. The vision hits me again—flashes of blood, violence, and something far worse waiting just beyond the edges of my mind. My hands start to tremble, and I know I can’t stay in the car. I push the door open and step out, the cool air hitting my face like a slap. My legs feel like jelly, but I force myself to move, taking a few shaky steps away from the car.

Behind me, the fight erupts with a sudden, violent force. The car jolts as their bodies slam against it, and I hear the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh, the wet splatter of blood as it sprays across the ground. The smell of iron fills the air, sharp and acrid, mixing with the earthy scent of the forest. My stomach turns, and I barely manage to keep myself upright as I stagger over to a tree and collapse against it, sliding down until I’m sitting on the ground.

I curl up, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to block out the sounds of their fight, the horrible, animalistic grunts and growls that seem to echo in my head. But it’s no use. The vision is getting stronger, more vivid. Bright, flashing lights sear across my mind, and I hear a scream ripping through the vision—a scream that’s mine, raw and terrified.

And then, as if the world itself is breaking apart, there’s a loud crash. Logan is shot through the front window of the car, his body flying through the air before crashing to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. He rolls past me, his body leaving a trail of blood in the dirt. I tuck my legs closer, curling into a tighter ball, trying to protect myself from the onslaught of sensations that are threatening to tear me apart.

The vision crescendos, a blinding storm of light and sound, and then, just as suddenly as it began, everything goes dark. There’s nothing left—no sound, no pain, no fear. Just an endless, consuming void.

Next Part

A/N: I’m so tired, I need sleep updates will probs be slow.

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @somiaw @100percentlazybonez @obsessedwthdilfs @sun7lowxr @corvid007

[nochukoo97]

seven dates a week - monday

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: a series of you and jungkook’s dates throughout the week, jungkook is a sweetheart and spoils you a lot, too much in your opinion.

word count: 1.2k+

a/n: OMG super excited for this i am going to make this a small series, probably just seven parts to this for each day of the week but here’s the first fic! but i may open a taglist and asks for this if i think it does well ☺️

seven dates a week masterlist!

“one touch and you got me stoned~” jungkook’s voice rings throughout the car as the radio plays, you two starting the day early in the morning by going to a coffee shop for breakfast.

you giggle as you point your camera towards your boyfriend who’s currently singing his heart out and driving. when the car stops at the red light, jungkook looks at the camera as he sings with a dramatic expression on his face, causing you to laugh even more.

“your touch blurred my vision, it’s your world and im just in it- oh shit” your boyfriend halts mid-performance when he realises the car behind him had honked for him to go, jungkook was too engrossed in singing for you he had paid no attention to the red light that was now green.

“baby it’s this one, turn right,” you point towards the little coffee shop at the corner of the road that you had searched up for you and jungkook to go.

as you get out of the car, you excitedly grab your boyfriend’s hand, ready to walk into the coffee shop you had been dying to go to.

“jagi, calm down” jungkook laughs while being forcefully dragged to walk two times as fast to the entrance of the coffee shop.

“ohmygosh- baby look this is so cute!” you squeal as you scan the room, pretty flowers adorn the ceiling and there was even a house cat that lived in the coffee shop, according to the website.

even after the waiter had sat the both of you down and given you the menus to place your order, you quickly got distracted and walked towards the cat laying near the entrance.

“hiii cutie, oh my goodness,” you coo as the cat purrs, flipping over on its back to let you scratch its tummy.

“jagi-ah, you want the matcha latte right?” jungkook calls out as he peers over from the menu.

“yeah, you can order whatever food, i can share with you,” you don’t even look back at your boyfriend as you continue to shower the fat grey cat with attention.

—-

“baby, come the food is here,” your boyfriend calls out to you again, you unwillingly walk back to the table as you bid the cat goodbye.

“NO WAIT-” you nearly scream and jungkook who had a fork in his hand, ready to devour the pancakes prettily plated in front of him.

“jesus, you scared me,” your boyfriend grumbled as he leaned back in his chair, forgetting that you always scolded him whenever he began to eat without allowing you to take photos of the food.

“if you had put the fork in the pancake i would have killed you,” you snap a picture of the pancake, angling it so that jungkook’s torso was in the frame.

“okay now can i eat?” jungkook whines as you snap a couple more, nodding to him as he absolutely destroys the stack of pancakes, making the one’s at the top fall all over the place. you decide to let that slide.

“baby, try my drink,” you hold out your cup towards him, but jungkook only scrunches up his face seeing the green drink he always had a strong hatred to.

“you know i hate that thing, its disgusting,” your boyfriend refuses the offer, but you wont take no for an answer.

“just try it, trust me its like sooooo good,” you definitely weren’t exaggerating in your opinion, but jungkook thinks otherwise.

you laugh as your boyfriend hisses as the drink slides up the straw into his mouth.

“urgh, taste like shit,” he groans as you slap his arm.

“don’t say that here! the staff can hear you!” you scold him but he waves you off anyways.

before you can say anything else, your boyfriend is stuffing a huge mouth of pancakes into your mouth as you can only frown at him.

he snaps a picture on his phone.

“baby what do u think about getting matching bracelets, i saw a shop had one and its pretty cute,” jungkook talks to you as you nod, still chewing the huge amount of pancakes in your mouth.

“urgh, you stuffed so much in my mouth,” you say as you dramatically gasp for air after swallowing.

“isn’t the first time i did that,” he’s smirking as if he was very proud of his comment.

“jungkook!” you hiss at him as you look around, thankfully the cafe was not too packed, so hopefully no one heard.

“i wasn’t lying,”

the audacity to give you a sly smile.

——

“babe, why are we at cartier,” you ask, as jungkook drags you by the hand into the shop before you can resist

“what do you mean?” he smiles back at you, “to buy our bracelets!”

your jaw drops as your boyfriend is grinning widely at you.

“baby, nonono- we can’t do this, it’s so much money,” you start to try and pull your hand away from him, but your boyfriend is too strong to let go.

“why not, it can be our anniversary gift!” he pulls you closer to him and wraps his arm around your waist, leading you towards the display cases.

“babe, our anniversary was two months ago and you bought me an expensive handbag, don’t make excuses,” you whine as you want to run out of the store, not wanting your boyfriend to spend so much money on you for the millionth time this year.

“it’s okay baby i want this, even if you don’t want it ill wear both for myself,” he sits you down on the chair at the display case as he tells the staff which piece of jewelry he wants to see.

“we both know you will end up making me wear one,”

“exactly”

so thats how you ended up with two cartier love bracelets, one on each of you, that cost way more than you want to imagine.

but you thank jungkook for it anyways.

——

your last destination for the day is the mall, to run a few errands like picking up groceries for the house.

but your terrible at sticking to the plan as you drag jungkook into the store that caught your attention.

jungkook groans as you begin to saunter towards the giant eevee plushie at the near end of the small shop.

“baby, come on, let’s stick to our plan and go to the supermarket,” jungkook tries to gently coax you away from that terrible giant piece of fluff that you might eventually convince him to let you bring home.

“but baby, i really really need this,” you pout at the huge plushie, pointing towards it as you slowly manage to drag your boyfriend closer and closer to it.

each step was a step closer to victory.

——-

“i can’t believe i have this huge ass thing in the back of my car right now,”

you frown at your boyfriend’s mean and horrible words.

“don’t say that to eevee, you will make her cry,” you smack your boyfriend’s arm as he looks at you in offense

“that thing can’t hear me and it doesn’t have feelings baby, it’s okay,”

“don’t call it a thing!”

in the end jungkook is forced to give your new plushie a big warm welcome into your shared apartment as he sets the huge soft toy down in the middle of the living room.

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 5

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

"Get a grip," Eddie mutters to himself as he places the phone back onto its cradle for the fourth time that day without having made a phone call. He paces back and forth in front of the phone, one, two, three full lines across the room and back before he picks up the phone, dials the Henderson's number, lets it ring one and a half times, then slams the phone down again before someone can answer.

He thinks he's losing it a little. All this time he thought he was the level-headed one but now that it's been two full days of not seeing Porcelain Steve, he thinks he's going to climb the walls and start ripping up the carpets. Logically he knows that nothing has happened. If something had, he would have heard from Dustin already, either by phone or over the walkie (which may or may not be on him at all times, volume as loud as it goes). They wouldn't leave him in the dark.

Right?

Right. Right.

He picks up the phone again, dialing the Buckley house instead.

Robin's dad answers, which is great. Robin's mom likes to play 20 Questions before handing the phone off. He keeps meaning to ask Robin if her mom does that for everyone that calls, or if he's just the lucky one. Robin's dad is a straightforward guy. He wants to know who is calling, and who they want to talk to.

"Robin is out, but I can give her a message, Eddie," Mr. Buckley says.

"Yes, please. Sir. Just let her know I called."

"Will do. Goodbye."

He listens to the dial tone for a few seconds before setting the phone down for the sixth time in less than 15 minutes. He has got to do something to keep busy or the carpets are toast.

Usually when he's this restless he bothers his friends, but Jeff is out of town on a family vacation, no one answered the phone at Gareth's house (first person he called this morning), and Brian has a summer job taking up his time, so now he's left to figure out distractions on his own.

His room is filled with distractions, but nothing that can claim his attention for too long. He puts a cassette in the player but doesn't turn it up to the volume that usually calms him because he doesn't want to miss hearing the phone ring. He'd been trying to distract himself with campaign planning and keeps getting off track with the fantasy that this would be the campaign he could convince Steve to at least hang out and observe, if not play in one or two sessions as an over-powered NPC.

Even Return of the King can't hold his attention for more than two pages, even if he flips through to read just his favorite parts because his mind immediately plays word association games which leads to thinking of Steve.

It hits Eddie then that he misses Steve. He misses climbing into Steve's car and bitching about whatever station Steve's set the radio on playing the Top 40. He misses late night smoke sessions where Steve seems to soften under his high and the night sky as they lay atop the trailer close enough to touch and talk about nothing. He misses being able to steal glances at Steve when he throws his head back to laugh hysterically at something he or Robin had said.

He misses Steve so intensely and fiercely that it sits like a rock in his stomach. He would give anything to hear Steve's voice again.

Oh. Oh no. He needs distraction from his thoughts now.

He successfully managed to hem and haw about his room for almost an hour before he marches back out to the living room and the phone set on the end table next to Wayne's recliner. Picks it up then sets it down again, turning on heel to the kitchen. Maybe breakfast (a glance to the clock on the wall tells him the time is 12:50, so maybe it's actually lunch) will be a sufficient time sink.

He pulls out all the fixings of a PB&J and is in the process of searching for a clean(ish) butter knife when three rapid knocks startle him, freezing him in place for a moment.

The knocking happens again, five quick raps this time, but Eddie was already making his way to the door by the third this time. There is a thought in the back of his mind that rises, unbidden, oh God, something's happened and it makes him wrench the door open with more force than necessary.

Robin stands on his porch, but not for long. She's got a backpack on and a grocery bag hanging off of one arm and when Eddie just blinks at her in a moment of confusion, she huffs and bullies her way inside. He full body turns, closing the door as he does so, to watch her deposit the bag, then backpack, onto the couch.

"Uh, hi?" Eddie manages as he watches her begin to unload the things she brought. A box of microwave popcorn, an obscene amount of candy bars, an assortment of nail polishes, and more but his attention is dragged up to the side of Robin's face when she starts talking, pulling out VHS tapes, clearly rented from Family Video.

"So, I brought a few options for us. Halloween because it was your most rented film back when Steve and I still worked there, so I thought it was a safe bet. Also go The Black Cauldron because you strike me as a Black Cauldron kind of guy, The Hidden Fortress because it's one of my favorites and you might enjoy it, too, and Top Gun, because, well, it might serve as a good distraction for a bit," Robin holds up each tape as she lists them off, setting them on the coffee table next to the assorted stuff she brought with. "Also got, like, a manicure set and some scrunchies and bobby pins. Not really sure how occupied you need to be right now."

"Uh.... what?"

Robin rolls her eyes like Eddie's slow on the uptake, "Distraction. I'm here to provide it. Though, maybe I should have called and asked what you do when you want to kill time. I just... defaulted to what Steve and I do. Movies and makeovers, but, like, if that doesn't work that's fine. It's just, you've joined us before on movie makeover nights, so I assumed..."

Eddie swallows pushing down the knot threatening to form in his throat. It's not a shock (anymore) that he's truly friends with Robin, but sometimes it's not at the forefront of his mind. When he thinks of friends, Jeff, Gareth, and Brian come to mind first. They've years of history together, after all. What he's got with Robin, and everyone else, is deeper than just friendship, the shared secret of Spring Break '86 that's made them all ride or die. So, now, with Robin showing up, instinctively wanting to help because they're friends even without Steve as a buffer, it just kinda rocks Eddie emotionally.

"No, it's great. I just- how did you know?"

Robin cocks her head at him, "You didn't leave a message."

He's not sure what facial expression he makes but everything about Robin softens just a bit. It's so reminiscent of how she is with Steve in the soft, quiet moments when she thinks no one else is paying attention to her and Steve. (Eddie's always paying attention.)

"Oh, dingbat," She says it softly and with a shake of her head before grabbing the popcorn box and ripping it open. She fishes out a packet and tosses it to him. "Get that going. I'm putting in Top Gun."

Wordlessly, Eddie obeys. He wants to ask more questions. What's the look for? Since when does she call him dingbat? What is happening? He throws the bag into the microwave, then remembers the PB&J he was attempting to make earlier. He makes two sandwiches, pausing only to dump the popcorn into a bowl once the microwave beeps. He puts the sandwiches on a plate to make carrying everything easier and joins Robin on the couch.

She accepts the offered sandwich with glee and they watch the first half hour of Top Gun in silence before Eddie gets his words gathered.

"How did you know?" He asks again.

"My dad," she says like a confession, not even needing Eddie to elaborate what he means, "it's, like, the highlight of his day when I miss a call from you. He's so overdramatic about delivering it, all bowing at me and repeating whatever lame thing you said like the esteemed Mister Munson has called to inquire if the lovely Lady Robin would like to partake on an outing the afternoon overmorrow or whatever shit you decide to sprout. Who says 'overmorrow' anyway? So, when I got back from helping mom grocery shop, he just... he pulled the grocery bags from my hands and told me 'I think Eddie needs you'."

He's only met the Buckley's face to face a few times. They don't hang out at Robin's house much so he's a bit shocked that Mr. Buckley even picked up Eddie's dramatics enough to notice something was off.

"My parents are a bit overprotective and overbearing sometimes but they care and listen," Robin says, "so when you called and seemed to different to what my dad is used to hearing- well, I asked to borrow his car, and made a quick pitstop. I was just kind of banking on the fact you need a distraction the same way I do."

He understands what Robin isn't actually saying. "From thinking about Steve."

She nods, "yeah. I know Dustin would never let anything happen to him, but it still leaves me jittery when I don't see him. Especially since the last time I went two days without seeing Steve he- well, he turned into a porcelain doll."

"I thought I was doing okay with all this, you know?" Eddie finds himself saying. "But I'm not. And it's so fucking stupid. It's not like I'm the only one who cares about Steve, or is worried, but- And it's not that I don't trust Dustin to keep him safe. I just- it's..."

"It's different. How you feel about Steve, how Dustin feels about Steve, and how I do. It's all different."

Eddie freezes. He's never- they don't talk about it. He's only said it out loud to three people. Wayne, Jeff, and his father. The last one landed him in the hospital and Wayne's custody so it's not a secret he lets out lightly.

"Dustin's his brother," Robin continues, either unaware of how Eddie's basically quit breathing or choosing to ignore it, "but he's also a dumb teenage boy. He'd never let anything happen to Steve, but that's not a guarantee that nothing will happen. I worry, too. I want to just take Steve and wrap him in bubble wrap, put him in a box, wrap that in bubble wrap, then put that in a bigger box and set him in the middle of an empty room where nothing could accidentally fall over onto the box."

He huffs out a laugh at the mental image that conjures up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Robin says before sucking her lips between her teeth, then pushing them out with a pop! sound, seeming to think over something. He watches as she mentally braces herself, the physical tales of her shifting to face him more, shoulders tensing, leg bouncing slightly. "So anyway, it's different, how we feel about Steve. Dustin loves him. I love him. And you... You're in love with him."

Even though they're inside his own home, Eddie still jerks back and looks around, for anyone who might hear what Robin is accusing him of. "Listen, Buckley, you can't believe every rumor you hear ab-"

"Eddie," she says, holding one hand out, palm up, "stop. Give me your hand and make terrible, awkward eye contact with me for, like, five seconds, please. It's important."

Eddie, very slowly, slips his hand onto hers, and she covers it with her free hand and, as promised, they make awkward eye contact.

"I'm a lesbian," she blurts out and immediately looks away from Eddie's face, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

And Eddie? Well, he laughs. It starts as just a snort but then it grows. And Jesus, it's such an awful response to Robin coming out to him, but he can't stop. He knows that Robin has gifted him with this trust, with knowledge that could get her murdered, and he should not be laughing.

Robin, for her part, takes it well. There's a few seconds of startled silence from her before she barks out her own laugh. Eddie laughs so hard and for so long he thinks he's going to puke, and Robin almost falls off the couch.

"Jesus Christ," is what he can manage to say once he's caught his breath.

"Jesus Christ," she echoes in a quieter voice.

Top Gun plays on in the background.

Eddie still can't say it out loud, so instead he says, "am I that obvious?"

"No. But I can recognize the signs of trying to hide a massive crush on someone of the same gender. You know, with all the experience I have at it."

"You are far better at hiding that then me I guess. I had no clue about you."

She shrugs, "yeah, well, it's not like we hang around a lot of girls for me to crush on. It's you, me, and Steve. Occasionally a kid or five. No offense, but I'd rather die than look at any of you lustfully."

Eddie fakes gagging at the thought.

Robin swats his arm playfully. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, I get that it makes you feel a little crazy not being around Steve. Especially when he's, like, literally unable to protect himself currently. I feel like that, too. He's my soulmate and no one knows me as well as he does. It's... lonely without him."

"So... Steve knows...?"

"Oh yeah. Me telling him it what I think kicked off our real friendship."

"I thought all the shit that happened at Star Court did that."

"That's when I told him. After barfing into a toilet."

"Gross."

"It really was. Steve took it so well. Then he mocked me for my crush."

"Which was...?"

"Absolutely not telling you. Anyway. That's enough mushy talky time. Paint my nails," she says, leaning over to grab a yellow nail polish off the coffee table.

Eddie holds out his hand to take it. He's not even going to pretend he doesn't want to.

Silence falls over them, a comfortable one. Eddie doesn't feel like climbing the walls much anymore, so Robin's distraction is working. Maybe it's just the not being alone in the trailer anymore. Maybe it's the knowing he's not alone anymore.

Maybe it's also knowing that Steve knows about Robin and still loves her.

(Funny that Steve just happened to find and befriend the probably only two queer people in all of Hawkins.)

They put in The Hidden Fortress next and Robin talks through almost the whole thing, telling him facts and that this next part is actually her favorite part.

By the time Robin leaves, well after nightfall, Eddie is feeling more settled.

[cartermagazine]

Today We Honor The Voice Luther Vandross

Luther Vandross’ voice and distinct singing style led to not only monumental success, but an instant recognition when you hear him singing–through your stereo, car radio, on TV or in a movie.

Coupled with that voice, was Luther’s unique ability to write and sing about love and the shared emotions we all feel in that search and enjoyment of love. Love of family, friends, the special someone–all were themes Luther explored with his music regularly, reaching many, becoming a staple in the most joyous moments of people’s lives through his songs for the last two generations.

Luther had been in entertainment for 35 years. From his introduction to the world as a singer on the first season of PBS’s Sesame Street in 1969 to winning four Grammy Awards in 2004, Luther was a permanent and dynamic force in popular music. He crossed boundaries, starting with his earliest success as a background vocalist and arranger for David Bowie, Bette Midler, Barbara Streisand, Donna Summer, Carly Simon, Judy Collins, J. Geils Band, Ben E. King, Ringo Starr and Chic. He produced records for Aretha Franklin, Dionne Warwick and Whitney Houston.

For almost 25 years, from 1981 to 2005, Luther dominated the American R+B music charts like no other artist before or since. In that span Luther released eight (8) #1 R&B albums, seven (7) #1 R&B singles and another five (5) Top 20 R&B singles. He achieved crossover status with eight (8) Billboard Top 10 albums, including reaching #1 with 2003’s Dance With My Father; and another five (5) Top 10 Billboard Hot 100 singles.

Luther received 31 Grammy Award nominations, winning 8 times. Additionally, Luther won eight (8) American Music Awards, including Favorite Soul/R&B Male Artist seven (7) times. via luthervandross.com

CARTER™️ Magazine

[biggerbearficrecs]

January 2025 Fic Recs

A list of what I’ve read/am reading this month.

[Note: Sorry for the delay.]

All recs underneath the cut:

Summary:

Teaser:

The Restless One by @bullet-prooflove (Colter Shaw x Reader)

Summary: Colter never sticks around in one place until now.

Teaser:

He sighs, thinking you’ve disappeared again but then he hears the crackle of wood outside, sees the orange glow of a fire peeking through the blinds.

He brings the blanket with him when he steps outside of the trailer. There’s a bite in the Nebraska air that causes goosebumps on his skin, he can see them on yours too as you sit out here in nothing but his t-shirt with a mug of tea clasped between your hands.

The scent of lavender reaches his nostrils, it’s infused with honey and camomile. Nightime tea, he realises, the exact same type his mom used to make when he was a kid.

“Bad dreams?” He questions as he drapes the blanket around your shoulders, squeezing them gently before he sits down alongside you.

“You think I’d be used to them by now.” You sigh, tucking yourself up against him.

“I don’t think it’s ever something you get used to.” He says softly, staring into the fire. “I still dream about the night my father died, finding him at the bottom of that cliff…”

He trails off then because he doesn’t like going back to that night, the guilt that’s associated with it. For the longest time he’d thought Russell was responsible, but then he ran into him again, looked into his eyes he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell that his brother had killed their father.

“They say that PTSD changes your brain chemistry.” You tell him as you cradle the mug to your chest. “Mine must be seven shades of fucked up at this point.”

“I’d say we’re both a little fucked up.” Colter concedes as he gathers you up close, shielding you from the coldness of the night. “It’s probably why this works so well.”

A comfortable silence falls, the two of you watching the flames as they lick up towards the sky trying to chase away the darkness.

The Exit Strategy by @waynes-multiverse (Russell Shaw x Female!Reader)

Summary: Russell is ready to hang it all up and retire, open up a brewery, and enjoy the rest of his civilian life. However, there’s one important thing missing before he can take the big plunge. Luckily, he knows just the right person to help him find it.

Teaser:

“So, what’s the plan here?” Colter asked with a clear of his throat. “You just wanna stay here and wait till she accidentally runs across the street?” It was meant as a joke, but to Colter’s dismay, Russell remained dead serious.

“That’s exactly what we’re doing,” the older Shaw confirmed and squinted his eyes at the busy street. Again, he had omitted a few things. In his mind, Colter didn’t need to know why Russell knew to be in front of the post office at exactly 15:03 (UTC–4) on a Tuesday.

Colter snorted a laugh. “What? C’mon, that can’t be the plan… Do you know how many people live in Falls Church? Or in the general Washington metropolitan area? We could be here for days. Weeks even…” The younger Shaw then switched fully into work mode, grabbing his phone from the Bluetooth car mount. “We’re never gonna find her like this. You got a phone number, maybe?” But before Russell could answer, Colter replied himself, shaking his head at his own silliness. “What am I even asking? Of course you don’t.”

Russell only smirked at that.

Unspoken Words by @winchesterwild78 & @cheekygirl2309 (Jensen Ackles x Reader)

Summary: This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there.

Teaser:

We were walking around looking at everything they had. Lily saw shirts and other items with Jensen on them and immediately wanted them. 

Then I heard a laugh that instantly pulled my head in the other direction. Standing at the Radio Company table was Jensen. 

My heart beat wildly. Lily didn’t hear or see him at first, but then he started talking and she saw him. 

Her eyes went wide and before I could stop her she ran towards him, arms wide and hugged his leg. 

“ Oh, who’s this?” He said as I walked up. Clif was instantly by his side. I was so scared we were about to be kicked out. 

“I am so sorry. She saw you and got away before I could grab her. Lily, let go. Come on baby.” She held tighter. Jensen smiled at me and bent down, “Hello Lily. It’s nice to meet you.” She held tighter. 

“I’m so sorry. She doesn’t speak. She’s nonverbal but loves Dean. We watch the show together as a way to bond. Lily, please let go. He has to leave. We have to leave.” 

She shook her head no. I took a deep breath trying to hold myself together.

1am by @bullet-prooflove (Joe Velasco x Reader)

Summary: You call Joe at 1am asking for a ride

Teaser:

You’re asleep, curled up in the passenger seat of Joe’s car, his leather jacket draped around you. He turns up the heating, reaching over to alter the vent so the warm air blows in your direction.

You’d scared the hell out of him tonight, calling him up at 1am drunk and crying, begging him to pick you up. He doesn’t think he’s ever dressed so quickly in his life. He’d found you hanging around outside that old bar the two of you used to visit, back when you were more than just friends.

He gets part of the story as he helps you into the car. The man you were with, the one after him, he was fucking someone else. You’d caught him in your bed, left the apartment without so much as your jacket.

Joe can’t say he’s surprised, there’s always been rumours about that guy, he’d tried to tell you that but you’d accused him of being bitter, jealous. It’s the reason the two of you stopped talking for a while because you were half right, he was jealous of the man who got to love you, the one that wasn’t him.

Baby, it's Cold by @winchestergirl2 (Alec McDowell x Reader)

Summary: Alec tries to convince you to stay in bed.

Teaser:

There was a crisp chill in the air when you woke, making you want to snuggle back down under the covers. Turning your head, to check the time you realise you are going to have to brave the chill or face the wrath of Normal for being late to work once again. Although in your defence, how were you supposed to resist the charms of the man who was the cause of your recent tardiness.

As you try to twist yourself out of the warm cacoon you were in, Alec woke up and slid his arms around you, mumbling into your neck 'it's too cold, stay in bed'.

Downpour by @klutzygirl (Brooke x Rachel)

Summary: Rachel and Brooke run out into a storm.

Teaser:

Rachel grabbed Brooke’s hand and gently dragged out of the house, ready to soak up the storm. “What the hell?” a laughing Brooke shrieked as the rain started to pour down on them.

“Figured you’d want to enjoy this,” a grinning Rachel told her before they locked lips.

“Okay, you win this round,” Brooke acquiesced.

“Glad you know who the real winner is here,” Rachel snarked at her girlfriend before twirling her around.

They were both soaked to the bone now but neither one of them gave a flying fuck about it - they could have fun drying each other off in a little while.

Sneaking Away by @caplanbuckybarnes (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean catches you just before you leave the bunker for good.

Teaser:

The creak of the bunker’s heavy door echoed faintly in the stillness of the night, followed by the soft shuffle of boots against the cold floor. You barely made it past the war room when a voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Where are you sneaking off to at this late hour?”

You froze, heart sinking at the familiar gravel in Dean’s voice. Slowly, you turned to see him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his green eyes shadowed with suspicion—and something deeper you couldn’t quite place.

“Dean…” you started, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stepped closer, his boots heavy on the floor, the sound unnerving in the silence. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, nodding toward the duffel slung over your shoulder.

You tightened your grip on it instinctively, your stomach churning. “It’s nothing. I just need some air, that’s all.”

“That why you’ve got your car keys, too?” His jaw clenched, his gaze burning into yours.

You bit your lip, unable to meet his eyes. You’d spent weeks working up the nerve for this moment, convincing yourself it was for the best. But standing here, with Dean looking at you like that—like you were breaking something inside him—it was almost too much to bear.

#11 by @talesfromlissom (SDV Leah x Female!Reader)

Teaser:

Leah looks up and behind the couch again, her grip on her fuzzy blanket tightening. There’s another crash against the door, causing Leah to flinch. You turn to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Leah?” You whisper.

“I heard it again.” She whispers. “The…banging on the door.”

“Banging?” You ask.

Leah nods, her eyes fixed on the door infront of her.

“Do…Do you think-” Leah starts.

“No, I never think.” You chuckle, grinning afterwards. Leah frowns.

“Sorry.” You mutter, clearly not being able to lighten the mood.

Leah scooches over to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“You don’t think someone is trying to break in…right?”

You shake your head.

“In this weather? No. I wouldn’t even go out in this weather. I think it’s just the thunder, dear.” You say, planting a soft kiss on her head.

Hush Hush Behind The Shield by @syrma-sensei (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Being America's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free…

Teaser:

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

"I'd let you if you asked" by @heavysighing-dreamyeyes (Jason Todd x Reader)

Teaser:

Jason Todd always had a habit of being in your space. It's something you didn't mind, but it is something you kept note of. He leans towards you, head angled down to catch every sound that comes through your throat, observing every twitch of your muscles with a sharp, intent gaze.

But even if he always seems to linger in your shadow, even if his eyes darkened with the desire for something more, he was careful. He never touched you before you touched him, and he always caught himself, when his fingers instinctively reached for you.

Something as simple as a hug, a brush over the back of your hand, a tousle of your hair, he denied himself over and over again. It was almost frustrating to see him denying himself something you never held back from him.

He melts into every hug you give, relishes when you thread your fingers together, nearly drops to his knees every time you kiss his cheek.

But then he'll falter, when you pull away, like he's snapping back to reality. He'll remind you that he's not good. In not so many words, he tells you he's poison. That he'll end up ruining you. Breaking you.

You think he's silly for it, because Jason Todd is nothing but good.

Helping Hand by @bensonstablers (Benson x Velasco)

Summary: Prepared to go home for the night, Velasco finds Olivia still in her office and sticks around to check in with her.

Teaser:

He moves closer to where she stands but not too close, afraid to spook her again.

“Here.”

She turns, looking a little startled but not scared. Her eyes narrow in confusion then down to the bag of peas he’s holding up and her face turns to amusement as she raises a brow at him. “Peas?”

“Yeah, I picked them up.” He feels nervous suddenly. “Figured they might come in handy with," he gestures vaguely to her face, "and I wanted to do something.”

She visibly softens and when she speaks, her voice is quiet but sure. “You’ve done a lot. I don’t think we could have gotten to Oscar Papa as quickly as we did without you helping to get his driver's name.”

“It was nothing.” He shrugs. “And anyway, I know from experience that frozen peas can sometimes be better, more comfortable, than ice.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re in pain.” He urges the bag towards her. “Now, all due respect, Captain… Take the bag.”

An amused smile forms on her face. “Is that an order, detective?”

“If that’s what works for you.”

There’s a moment before Olivia huffs out a laugh and swipes the peas from him and Velasco can’t help the triumphant smile that crosses his face. There’s a slight roll of her eyes before she presses the bag to her face. He has to bite back a laugh when a groan escapes her and her shoulders sag with relief.

“I’ll let it pass that you gave me an order, if you don’t let it get to your head that this was a good idea.”

He really does laugh then and feeling emboldened he guides her over to the couch, ignoring her protests, and gets her to sit down.

"All that tough talking you were doing and now look at ya" by @daryl-dixon-daydreams (Negan Smith x Reader)

Teaser:

"Whoooa, whoa! Okay—hey, doll. Take it easy. Negan's here," he said, kneeling down beside you. "I'm gonna help you outta here, alright?" One of your pant legs was absolutely soaked in blood and your teeth were gritted against the pain. You had a hand pressed over your thigh but blood was seeping out between your fingers alarmingly fast.

You looked up at him and your eyes were fearful and a little disbelieving to see him there. "Didn't I tell you, about two hours ago, to 'fuck off'?" you breathed.

Negan couldn't help chuckling a little despite the situation. He pulled a spare shirt from his bag and ripped a strip off. "Anything you want to take back?"

You shut your eyes and leaned back against the tree behind you. "I don't know. Let me think about it."

He smiled. "Yeah, alright. While you think about it, I'm gonna save your life, okay?"

Against the Wind by @zepskies (Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega Female!Reader)

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

Teaser:

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you’re able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can’t yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you…

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply.  The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest. 

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you. 

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart. 

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you. 

“Dean,” he says. 

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Forging A New Life by @klutzygirl (Beau x Cassie)

Summary: Beau and Cassie start building a new life once they move in together.

Teaser:

Beau dropped a box on the floor and groaned. “I hate moving,” he complained to his girlfriend.

Cassie glanced down at the box then looked back up at him. “You’re lucky there’s nothing breakable in there,” she teased.

He shrugged. “Eh, fuck it even if there was anything fragile. I don’t care anymore.” He plopped down on the couch, needing to take a break.

Cassie joined him and smiled when he wrapped his arm around her. “Moving sucks.”

The ranch was perfect so that was a point in its favor - as was the woman he loved. He and Cassie were forging a new life together - with Emily and Kai - that they hoped would last. This was a second chance at love for both of them. They didn’t intend to waste a minute of it.

Okay to Cry by @romancingromanoff (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)

Summary: (request) Natasha romanoff and reader? Established relationship. Reader has a really really bad day and comes home crying, doing her best to hide her tears from her girlfriend but Nat finds out anyway?

Teaser:

You wiped a couple of stray tears off on your sleeves and blinked profusely while fanning your face. Looking in the rear view mirror again you noticed that your eyes were indeed a little puffy but you could just blame it on allergies. Sighing at your predicament, you dragged your way out of your car and tried not to make too much noise fumbling with your keys at the door. You opened it as quietly as you could and stepped into the house.

“Hey, babe,” Nat’s voice came from the kitchen where you could also smell leftovers being cooked up.

“Hi!” you tried to sound like your normal chipper self but then whined at how over exaggerated that came out. She would definitely be suspicious now…

“You’re excited. Good day at work?”

“Um, yeah,” you carefully put up your coat and bag near the door so that you were facing away from your girlfriend at all times. “Addison’s birthday was today so she brought in cupcakes for everybody.”

“Ooh, those ones her boyfriend the baker does with the homemade icing?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you bring me one back?” Natasha eyed you looking up from her food and you did your best to try and just casually shrug before just naturally becoming interested in arranging the vase of flowers in the hallway. It wasn’t your worst coverup since you often went a little OCD and organized random things around the house, but you still hadn’t even looked at your girlfriend which caused her to frown in suspicion.

“Uh, no, sorry. He only made enough for everyone at work.”

“I think you’re lying,” her words pierced you with fear and you froze for a second. Trying to play it off, you fake sneezed into your elbow and then continued to take your shoes off, never looking her way.

“You’re right,” you playfully fussed back. “Sorry, I just got hungry on my way home. You know, in the traffic?”

“Y/N,” Natasha was blatantly demanding that you look her in the eyes. You cringed and took a deep breath in before putting on your best face and turning around.

Sweet Like Chocolate by @raz-writes-the-thing (Venom x Reader)

Summary: Venom's enjoys it when you're his host.

Teaser:

WE ARE NOT A BABY.

You tut and continue about making Venom’s tater tots. It hadn’t really been a genuine thought. It’s just that when you and Eddie trade Venom between you like parents trading a toddler for alone time, it kind of felt that way at times. Not that you were complaining, of course. Any time with Venom piggybacking in your head was time well spent in your own personal opinion. 

It was just a shame that you weren’t a better match. Then he could come around with you more often. But no, that was Eddie’s responsibility, it would seem. 

“I know, V- you know how human brains work. Thoughts just pop in unannounced.” 

I WILL ALLOW IT.

You chuckle and pour yourself a glass of wine. A tendril of Venom’s form spreads from your back to put the wine bottle away for you, and you thank him kindly. Checking the timer on the tots, you frown. They were going to be at least another fifteen minutes. 

“What do you want to do tonight, V?” You ask, plopping down on the lounge chair and taking a sip. 

WE WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU. 

You smile softly, and Venom chuckles in your brain in response. That took some getting used to, actually, hearing someone laugh in your mind. But like all things, you acclimated. 

“We’re doing that, buddy,” you reply.

Whiskey and Cola by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: When Y/N visits Harvelle’s, she’s not feeling her best. It isn’t until another bright-eyed hunter joins her for a drink that things start to liven up…

Teaser:

“Tell me I’m dreaming.”

Y/N gave a start and looked to her left. She hadn’t noticed that a young man had taken a seat on the stool next to her despite the line of empty spots.

She quirked a brow. “Is that your idea of a pick-up line?” she asked, unimpressed.

The man turned away from her to wave at Ellen. “Double shot of whiskey. Rocks!” he called out.

“On it!”

He turned back to Y/N and grinned. “Course’ not. I just can’t believe you ordered a can of Coke at a bar. Just making sure my eyes aren’t deceiving me. You know that they sell booze here, right?”

“I like pop.”

“I can see that. Just take it easy on the sugar, something tells me you’re sweet enough,” he said with a wink.

“Dean Winchester!” Ellen exclaimed, placing an amber glass and a red can in front of the man and Y/N respectively. “Quit heckling my customers!”

“I happen to be engaging in polite conversation here, Ellen,” he said innocently. “No harm done. Oh and before you go, how bout’ you keep a couple of beers on standby for me?”

Y/N chuffed in amusement. “I’ll lay off the sugar alright,” she said. “Just as soon as you tone down on the alcohol. It’ll do a number on your liver, you know.”

He tipped his glass forwards. “Touché.”

Stolen Crown by @roonyxx & @jay-and-dean (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: What happens when she is sent in a world that isn’t hers, but with very familiar faces?

Teaser:

Her back flat against the tree, she turns her head a little to be able to see beyond the thick bark, holding her breath and reaching for the knife in her boot. 

A beautiful, massive shiny black horse is nervously stepping on the ground while the owner of the mare pats it on the neck.

“Easy girl” the man says. 

She frowns, keeping the dagger in her hand, ‘that voice… I know it.’ When she dares to look between the leaves, her eyes widen.

“Dean?” she says with a confused smile, putting the knife back in her boot, as she steps from out of the bushes.

“My Queen !” he throws his leg over the majestic black horse and steps off, right away going down on one knee in front of her, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I have been looking for you, my Queen” he says towards the ground, not looking up to her once.

“Queen ?” she huffs, still a little dizzy. “Where the Hell are we, Dean ? And what the fuck are you wearing, is that… a freaking armor?” she asks, pointing at his weird clothes.

Dean finally tilts his head upwards. And when he sees her, his eyes nearly fall out of his head, his mouth is open but no words leave his lips. The more he stares at her like she was naked, the more she starts to feel a little self conscious.

His eyes slowly travel up her bare legs, a confused expression on his face, when she bends a little to make eye contact with him he quickly adverts his gaze.

“Your Majesty, what happened to your robes ? Are you harmed ?” he asks, obviously worried. 

“Cut the crap, Dean, what’s happening ? Where are we ?” she asks, annoyed.

“We are in the…” he looks around a little, apparently wondering what to answer. “In the woods… Not far from the Castle, my Queen” he says.

She stares at him, mouth agape, a deep feeling of confusion replacing the annoyance totally. Her tone changes to something colder, more distant.

“Why do you keep calling me ‘queen’ ?” she asks. “And what’s up with the stupid clothes ?”

He dares looking up at her again, a sorry frown on his face. 

“My apologies, your Highness. I do not understand… Is there something wrong with my apparel ?” he stands up, his eyes searching her face. “Did you hit your head or have you fallen maybe ? You disappeared, my Queen. I have been so worried” he turns to his horse to retrieve a big grey fur cloak. “What happened to your gown, did someone attack you ?” 

His head low, he comes closer to carefully drape the very heavy cape around her shoulders.

“I obviously failed at my duty” his eyes are dark and she clearly recognizes that crushing guilt on his features

She touches the floor length fur coat he put around her with a frown. It’s pleasantly warm outside, there is no need for this… 

Everything he does is weird, and why does he look so different ? Was he hit by a spell of some weird stuff like that time he was losing his memory ? 

Unless… 

If It's Meant To Be by @jawritter (Alpha!Beau Arlen x Omega!Reader)

Summary: Bad things happen to good people, that’s just the rule of thumb. But sometimes, things happen for a reason, and that reason is so you can find the person you’re meant to be with…

Teaser:

“Go away Omega,” he warned, sending a shiver down her spine at the use of her title in his voice. “You’re not safe here.”

Now, normally, that would have sent her running, screaming in the other direction. But she was nothing if she wasn’t stubborn, and fuck if he didn’t smell amazing, and the way his deep voice rolled over made her heart hammer so loud against her ribcage that she seriously thought he could probably hear it through the door. There was no way she could run now if she wanted to. The Omega had gotten his scent, and she knew what she wanted. She wanted her Alpha. Beau was her Alpha, she knew it, she just knew it. 

“Alpha, please, open the door,” she pleaded and he whined as she placed her hand on the cold silver steal of the door. “Jenny said you’ve been sick for days now. I can help. Just let me in.”

“Darlin, you don’t want to be tied to a man like me, and if you come in here, I’m not gonna be able to stop. Leave, please, while I still have the composure to let you,” he tried again, and she flinched at the rejection in his voice. 

He was standing closer to the door now, probably leaning on the other side, because she could swear that she felt the heat of his body coming through the thin steel. 

“You’re not gonna scare me off Beau,” she stated matter of factly, rooted in her own stubbornness. She never was one to give up very easily and walk away, especially not when it took all the self convincing to even come all the way out here to see him. 

“I’m not trying to scare you, I’m telling you the truth,” he growled through the door. “I’m telling you the truth. I’ve got more baggage than I can even handle on a good day. My job is dangerous, I’m more likely to die on the end of some asshole’s gun than I am to retire. I’ve got a child with another woman. I live in a goddamn tin-can that I call a trailer. I’m old enough to be your dad. I’m action packed with issues you will hopefully never see. I’ve got trust issues, and separation anxiety. I talk to fucking much. I promise you Omega, you don’t want me. No one does.”

Y/N leaned her forehead against the cold door, and closed her eyes to fight against the sudden pit that had begun to form in the pit of her stomach. His scent had changed to an almost sour, oppressively sad scent that could have been suffocating, and it told her that he believed every word that had just come out of his mouth. It made her heart ache for him.

Marry me in the battlefield by @herstarburststories (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Summary: Dean decides to propose you in the midst of a hunt.

Teaser:

The surprise stokes him when he recognizes them on your face, moonlight shinning on you as if its only mission is to give you light to search in the dark for more monsters. Lisa understood job, but you understand what exactly comes with it. Not only the anxiety, not having a home for too long, or the fact that there are guns hidding in every inch of places you stay for a couple hours.

You understand the thrill, the necessity to keep going, how the blood in your hands is never going to be washed, so you might as well make it worth it.

And you smile. You smile as if it was a romantic date and you couldn’t wait to kiss him. You smile as if this is a good routine. You smile as if you are excited to crumble into a random restaurant and eat food that will kill you from inside.

And Dean knows you mean all of it. You want this life, you want him. You love how it goes.

Therefore, it’s no shock when the words leave his lips, “Marry me.”

Sam stops on his tracks, holding a vampire’s head as a football ball; he is surprised, and so are you. Ok, this specific moment might be unsettling for normal people, but what would be more fitting than that for you two?

You frowned, unsure of your own ears, “What?”

“I said, marry me.”

Love On the 26th Floor by @wayward-dreamer (Dean Smith x Reader)

Summary: Y/N has been working as a personal assistant to the successful CEO of Smith Construction Co, for just a few weeks. It may not be her field of expertise, but she needs this job to pay off her student loans and live her life as she tackles a part-time Masters degree at the same time. She finds her boss Dean Smith incredibly intimidating and insanely attractive; but an office fling is the last thing she needs, especially with her employer. But you can only avoid temptation for so long…

Teaser:

“Congratulations to Y/N, on her new job at Smith Construction!”

Y/N and her friends clinked their glasses of champagne together, cheering for her as the loud chatter of the bar continued around them. Y/N sipped the sparkling liquid, smiling at her friends.

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping her arm around Annie, who had just given the toast.

“I can’t believe you’re going to be working for Dean Smith,” Emma exclaimed from across the table. “He’s so fucking gorgeous!”

“You get to look at his face any time you want,” Annie said, smirking.

“And maybe even do something else,” Emma suggested, wagging her eyebrows. The girls laughed, but Y/N didn’t join in.

“Guys, come on. I’m not going to sleep with my boss. I need this job and I’m grateful he even gave it to me. So, drop it. Okay?” she told them, looking between both her friends, an eyebrow raised.

“Sorry, Y/N. We were only joking,” Emma muttered, a sheepish look gracing her face.

“It’s okay, let’s just forget about it.” Y/N took another sip of her drink, before picking up the menu from the table. “Alright, what’re we eating?”

As her friends continued to decide what they wanted, Y/N’s mind pondered over what they had just talked about. Dean Smith had absolutely had an effect on her, and she knew how hard it was going to be to work for him now. However, no matter what happened, she couldn’t give into the thoughts she was having about him. As much as she wanted him to rip her clothes off and bend her over his desk, she couldn’t let it happen.

She needed this job, and she was determined to keep it.

Too Close To Gone by @jawritter (Huntercorp!Dean x Reader)

Summary: Dean’s been gone for a year. You have been gone from the Bunker for just about as long. When you finally get the guts to go back “home” after leaving, someone you never thought you’d see again stumbles into your life, and now you have to figure out how to move on with a constant reminder of what you’ve lost following you around in the flesh.

Teaser:

Slowly, you peek around the wall, and stop in your tracks, nearly  dropping your gun at the sight that was waiting for you. 

At first, you were  in utter shock at seeing Dean’s face, albeit battered and more than a little banged up, but it was his face. His eyes stared bewildered back at you as he raised his hands slowly, using the sidewall of the building to brace himself. 

Once the shock faded, anger took its place. You fired a shot at the ground close to the creature’s feet before you even realized what you were doing. The damn idiot just sank to the ground and covered it’s face. 

How could this creature, whatever the fuck it was dare put on your dead boyfriend’s face. How dare it imitate him. You were going to destroy it, whatever it took. 

“Y/N! Please, it’s me! It’s Dean!” It yelled at you from it’s cowered position on the ground as you fired off another round, this time one much closer  than the previous one that had landed in the dirt. You hadn’t intended to taunt the creature, but whatever the fuck it was that was trying to act like he was your Dean, that shit  wasn’t going to fly. 

Tears were rolling down your face in  anger. You had never been so sick. So angry. The last time you had seen that face was when you had spent hours washing off the blood that had dripped from his lips, and you wrapped him up so carefully to be burned. Now, it was calling your name a damn look alike? You couldn’t think. All you could see was red. 

“Don’t you fucking dare imitate Dean, you sick son of a bitch. I’m going to fucking kill you, you understand me. You’re going to fucking die. Dean is dead. I buried his ashes myself, and you’re going to come here and try to act like him! After you sons of bitches took him from me!”

This time you sent a round straight to it’s thigh muscle, and it screamed in pain, it’s voice an exact echo of what Dean’s had been. It was silver bullets in the gun, a devil’s trap carved into the blunt tip of the bullet. If it was a werewolf you would have gotten a hell of a lot more than a scream, and if it was a demon it wouldn’t be able to try and roll away from you like it was doing. Silver would have proved it a shifter too, but something wasn’t right.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m not imitating Dean. I am Dean goddammit! From the other world! The one Chuck destroyed! Remember? You were there when my brother Sam and I left  here!”

You froze on the spot, completely unable to move. 

Meet Cute by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader)

Summary: Reader is surviving in the apocalypse alone, until she meets a stranger who needs her help, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. This is a reimagining of when Daryl gets hurt trying to find Sophia in Season 2, in which the reader shoots Daryl instead of Andrea. This can be read as stand alone, but can also be read as a prequel fic to “Your Fault,” describing how reader and Daryl met for the first time.

Teaser:

You hear a strange sound behind you and as turn around, bag in hand, you notice that the man isn't on the ground anymore. He's standing, crossbow drawn, pointed directly at your chest.

Great.

"Where the hell am I?" The man growls.

Your chest tightens in fear. By the time I reach for my gun he’ll shoot me.

"It’s okay." You force the tremor from your voice, trying your best not to look frightened. The bag drops to the ground  and you hold up your hands in front of you in a gesture of surrender. "You're at my cabin. You're safe."

"Why?" His eyes narrow as he takes another step forward.

This was such a bad idea.

The One That Got Away by @justwhisperingfantasies (Jensen Ackles x Reader)

Summary: You thought you had left Supernatural and Jensen in the past, but almost 6 years later you get roped back in when your job is on the line.

Teaser:

“I don’t think I can do this.” A nervous Jensen admitted walking up to the curtain on the stage between you and Jared.

“Jay, you got this,” Jared assured him.

Jensen took a deep breath. “Did you get the seat?” He looked over to you.

“Yes, I’ll be right in front of you. When you get nervous or overwhelmed just look down and I’ll flash you or something.”

Jensen let out a laugh lifting his face.

“Um, (y/n) I’m feeling a bit nervous too. “ Jared professed

You and Jensen glared at him. “I think you’ll be alright.” You told him walking over to the  stage entrance

“You guys got this.” You kissed Jensen on the cheek. “I love you both.” You then kissed Jared on the cheek. “Have fun!!” You said as you turned to walk away.

“Love you too.” They said at the same time. You could hear the boys talking, but you couldn’t make out the words.

Lily was standing by the wall. She started walking with you as you passed. “Are you ever going to tell him how you feel?” You rolled your eyes and looked back at Jensen.  He blew you a kiss and mouthed thank you. You nodded and gave him a smile.

“Probably not.” You said facing forward and continuing walking.

Princess Treatment by @storiesofsvu (Terry Bruno x Reader x Joe Velasco)

Teaser:

You tugged your lip into your mouth, glancing toward the bathroom once again and were just about to slip your fingers into the waist band of your shorts when a beep echoed from the door and you nearly jumped, reaching out for your cocktail again.

“Hey.” Joe flashed a tired smile in your direction as he let the door fall shut behind him, already tugging the shirt off his body to toss in the direction of his bag. He stalled slightly, glancing back to you as his hands came to his belt buckle, “you mind?”

“Huh?” You barely pulled your eyes away from the television and he chuckled.

“Who am I kidding, you’re already in your underwear.” Another couple of seconds and he was stripped down to his briefs, wandering to the mini fridge to grab a beer while you drained the rest of your cocktail. He looked up at the sound of your straw scraping the bottom of the glass combined with a muffled noise he couldn’t quite make out, “what?”

“Neighbour’s got company.” You explained, nodding your head toward the wall.

“Great.” He muttered, grabbing a beer, “you want one?”

“Please.”

He tossed you the chilled can before retreated to the other bed, dropping against it and you couldn’t help but watch out of the corner of your eye as he rolled the can against his neck to help cool down as he settled in. Right as he cracked open the beer there was a rather loud moan from the other side of the wall, followed by the sound of a spank and an even louder noise from the woman. An exaggerated chain of swears and moans began to come through the wall and Jose chuckled.

“Someone’s enjoying themselves.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, “she’s showing off.”

“Yeah?” He raised a brow in your direction and you rolled your eyes.

“Yes.”

On the other side of the room the shower finally came to a stop, Terry stepping out wrapped in a towel a few minutes later. He was about to greet the two of you when the bedframe from the other room began colliding with the wall, the woman’s wails nowhere near natural and he huffed.

“Are they seriously still going at it?”

“Still?!” You whined, “it sounded like they just started.”

The banging on the wall increased, louder with each hit and you barely had time to wince before Terry pounded against the shared wall with his fist. Silence overtook the room for a couple of seconds, followed by muffled laughter until the moans started up again.

“Looks like no one’s getting any sleep tonight.” Bruno groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Great.” You muttered, taking a swig of your beer.

Stoking the Flame by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior (Beau Arlen x Jenny Hoyt)

Summary: Jenny and Beau have been ignoring the spark between them for a long time. How much longer can they continue?

Teaser:

It had been there from day one.

Under the cover of antagonism and teasing, behind the barriers of obligations and professionalism, there had burned the embers of a fire she knew would quickly flare to life if they ever dared to stoke the flames for even a moment.

Beau broke their locked gaze, as he usually did, looking away into the fire. But he squeezed her knee gently, letting her know without words that he wasn't pulling away completely.

She leaned into him a little closer and laid her head on his wide shoulder, his jacket slightly rough beneath her cheek. He kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek against it.

They stayed that way for a while, knowing that they could continue on like this, simply giving each other comfort and staring into the flames; they wouldn't be going any further, they wouldn't be risking anything, they could still make believe they were just partners, just friends.

They could stay like this and stay safe.

But as though by silent, simultaneous agreement they pulled out of the easy embrace, turning to look at one another. Their gazes connected again and Jenny knew Beau wasn't leaving tonight.

Oh, and before I forget…

Thank you!!! 💕💕

all dividers by @saradika-graphics

[atinylittlepain]

Atlantic City

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

wordcount | 6.2K

warnings | smut, angst, the usual

a/n | hey y'all, we have reached the penultimate chapter. we're in for a little angst, but i promise i make it better with a whole lot of goodness. as always, i'd love to hear what you think, drop me a line, i'd love to chat. also, if i could offer a song specifically for the young joel sequences, it would be Downbound Train by Springsteen (who else?) alright, that's all.

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gif by @santigarcia

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“She had a little oatmeal and a little applesauce, I think more of it got on her bib than it did in her mouth, though.” Tiny hands gripping at his shirt, he winces at the first sign of her impending meltdown, that small whimper of hers that always seems to come out in the mornings like this. 

“Alright, Joey, that’s okay, I’ve got her.” Except she doesn’t, not yet, because Sarah is still clinging to him, tears starting to heat and dampen the side of his neck where her face is pressed as Deedee tries to coax her out of his arms. He’d like to cry too. 

“I have class until seven, but I gotta run to the store too to get more formula. Shouldn’t be later than eight, ma.” It’s near herculean to finally untangle Sarah from him, a particularly loud cry striking through his ears as Deedee finally manages to scoop her into her arms. He’s learned that he can’t loiter, can’t look at her too much like this, because then that slick curl of guilt will take root and furl up his throat. So it’s a quick goodbye, a kiss to the crown of Sarah’s head and a lowly murmured love you, babygirl before he thanks his mother, who acts offended that he even tried to thank her in the first place. 

He can still hear Sarah crying when he gets back in his truck. Deep breath, just one to smooth out the shake in his hands. And then his day can begin. The same day he has been doing for the last five months. They’re building new apartments off the highway toward Austin. Good work, honest work, at least that’s what people say when he tells them what he’s doing these days. He’s not sure where they get the good or honest from. Mostly, it’s sweaty and sore and simple. But it is good money, and lord knows that’s exactly what he needs right now. 

She, no name, he’s been practicing no name for her, making the fact of her disappear from his life so it won’t be a problem when Sarah gets older, so just she. She left when Sarah was three months old. Not a word, not a note. Fine by him, because while they were certainly a mistake, Sarah isn’t, at all, not to him. So he’s working, making money, and in the evenings, chasing after a degree that promises something better for the both of them. 

Traffic is stupid this early in the morning, crawling lights along the highway in the dusk still burning itself off with the hazy sunrise. He sighs, slumping back. He can sigh and slump now, no one watching, small relief as he rolls toward the job site. Another sigh when he sees that cars are even more jammed up because of an accident on the shoulder of the highway. He’s not one for the radio these days, much more interested in saving up slices of silences in between all the crying and sighing, though he still starts to flicker through radio channels, nothing better to do anyways. 

“With us this morning, an up and coming author whose first novel has garnered a great deal of attention this year.” His hand stills, spine straightening out when the radio show host says her name. Her real name. And then it’s her, thanking the host for having her with an easy laugh. 

The last time he heard her voice, he was standing in the front office of Thatcher’s with a phone to his ear and a hand held over his mouth to silence the quick sobs shaking his body as she spoke, as she apologized, as she said goodbye. The same and different. So very different. His ears rush with it, mind in a thick fog as the host says something about best selling, and new project, and some award that he hasn’t heard of before. And Cherry takes it all in stride.

She did it. She really did it. He can’t help the broken laugh that flutters up his throat, a quick burst of it that feels good only because it’s been so long since he’s had something like that, felt something like that. But it’s a quick radio segment, and she’s already thanking the host again, and they’re already taking a break for some commercial. Gone again. Sigh, slump. 

Good for her, he thinks. Proud of her, he thinks. Did the right thing for her, he thinks. 

And finally, traffic starts to crawl again, just another day. 

…

“Yeah, uh-huh, I’ll have it ready to be sent by Friday. Look, I told you already that I’m not going to rush this one, okay? The first draft needs a little more time, just to Friday.” Often, when she takes phone calls in her office, she imagines what it would feel like to pick up her computer and smash it through her window. It’s a helpful thought exercise, keeps her from cursing out her agent at times like this.

“Alright, and– no, I saw the concepts you sent me and absolutely not. I don’t know how you can already be sending me cover art when you haven’t even read the fucking thing yet. I don’t care what kind of rush you’re in, I’m not going to accommodate it because, quite frankly, it’s fucking ridiculous.” Well, at the very least, she tries not to curse out her agent. 

“Friday, no earlier and no later. And please, do not call me before then, because if I’m talking to you, then I’m not working, and if I’m not working, this fucking thing is going to take even longer. Okay? Great, thanks so much, bye.” Click, sigh. She has also imagined chucking her cell phone through the window, but that is a much less satisfying vision, so she settles for shoving it away in the bottom drawer of her desk. 

“Mom?” She’s quick to stretch out of her slump at the sound of Ellie’s voice, swiveling around in her chair as she smooths out her scowl .

“What’s up, babe?” 

“Is it cool if I go to the mall with Dina?” Dina, the center outfielder, right. 

“Oh, yeah, do you want me to drop you off? I can–”

“No, that’s okay. Dina’s mom is gonna pick me up and take us.” Guilt starts to flicker between her ribs. This happens whenever she’s entrenched in writing. She blinks, and can’t seem to figure out where the time has gone or when the last time was that she and Ellie spent real time together. And though Ellie rails against it with a dejected groan, she can’t help but get up and pull her into a quick hug. Missed you, sorry. Love you, sorry. Ellie squirms a little, but still squeezes her back. 

“Well, be safe, okay? And call me if you need anything.” 

“Yeah, okay, I will.” Normally, this would be when Ellie bounds away before Cherry can get an I love you in edgewise, but instead, she stays standing in front of her, a small pinch between her brows. 

“Are you, um, like– okay?” Cherry sighs. This again. This new thing again. Something that Ellie has started to do at the most unexpected times. Something that started after that day at the ballfields when their car got stuck in the mud and she and Joel shared some choice words. 

“Els, what’s this about you asking me if I’m okay, huh?” She tries to say it light, with a small laugh, but really, her stomach is starting to sicken, because this is supposed to be her job, mom job, and clearly, she’s failing at it. 

“I don’t know, I just– how come Tommy is the one working on the porch now?” 

“Uh, well, I mean– Tommy and Joel are business partners, so they, you know, share jobs with each other.” It comes out stilted and stuttered, and she has to stop herself from wincing at the lameness of the excuse. For her part, Ellie doesn’t seem to be satisfied with that answer, brow still scrunched and mouth screwed up like she tasted something funny.

“But why isn’t Joel working on it, like, at all?” That all holds a lot more meaning than it should, and Cherry can’t help the sigh that slackens through her chest. 

“I know what you’re getting at, and you have to understand that, well– we– Joel and I– there’s a lot of history there, Els. And it’s– well, it’s very complicated.” 

“Do you think you guys are gonna work it out though?” It surprises her, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say that there’s a hopeful tilt to Ellie’s question and raised brows.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want you worrying about that, okay? Whether we do or not, I’m gonna be just fine, so long as I have you.” Mom brain, she can’t help herself, stealing another hug that Ellie rails against with a mom that sounds like she’s being accosted it’s so despondent. 

Saved by the bell, or the car horn more like it, Ellie wrangling herself out of their hug with a quick bye, love you as she bounds through the house toward the front door. Sigh, slump, Cherry shuffles back over to her desk, steading her palm on the edge of it as she brings her other hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

The thing is, she is pretty sure that they’re not going to work this out. And that’s what she wanted, isn’t it? She’s not sure anymore. She’s not sure about a lot of things. For starters, why she really decided it was a good idea to move back here. Yes, New York was becoming no good. But then, forty-odd other states she could have chosen from. And no, too late to back out now, because Ellie has already made friends, somehow already managed to settle before school has even started. And there’s the house, and now this fucking porch.

“Hey, Cher?” Speaking of which, snapping herself back out of her slump.

“Hi, Tom, how’s it going out there?” The first time she saw him again, she was shocked by just how much Tommy Miller grew up and filled out. Joel mentioned something about him serving in the military, and it shows, she thinks. A little more serious, a little presence in the set of his shoulders. A far cry from the brash, bold, bumbling boy she remembers. The passage of time, and all that. 

“Just got done with the finish, actually, if you wanna come take a look?”

“Oh really? Like, it’s finished finished?” It is, and it’s frustratingly perfect. Wood polished and still glossy, plenty of space for a table and chairs. She should be happy, or at the very least satisfied, so she isn’t sure why all she feels is a petty curl of anger rising like bile up the back of her throat. 

“Wow, yeah, it looks– looks really good, Tommy, thank you. Is it alright if I pay you now? I just need to get my checkbook.” She’s already walking back toward her office, but Tommy doesn’t follow, rubbing at the back of his neck with a weak laugh.

“The thing about that, Cher, is that I’m under very strict, very aggressive orders to not take any money from you.” That anger flares at his words, a scoff in her throat as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh, is that right? And just which hardass are these orders coming from, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I think you’re, uh, pretty familiar with said hardass.” 

“Uh-huh, right, I suppose I am.” She’s not going to let Joel win this one, turning on her heel to continue her warpath toward her checkbook, Tommy having no choice but to tentatively follow after.

“Cherry, seriously, I can��t. He’s gonna rip that check up the instant he gets his damn hands on it.” She doesn’t listen, dashing off her signature on the six thousand dollar check, though when she tries to hand it to Tommy, he tucks his hands deep into his jeans pockets, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“Tommy, I don’t know what kind of stupid game your brother is playing, but I refuse to participate. You did a job for me, and did it perfectly, and now I’m going to pay you. I don’t– I can’t have this hanging over my head, alright? Just take it, please.” She hates the warble that please comes out on, a thick flush of tears starting to thicken in her throat.

“It wouldn’t be hanging over your head, Cher. You know he ain’t like that.” 

“Oh, do I? Because, honestly, I’m not sure what I know about him anymore.” Silence falls, a flash of something passing over Tommy’s face that she can’t place. He clears his throat before he speaks again, and when he does, it’s shockingly quiet.

“I still remember the day you left and didn’t come back, you know. And no offense, but it’s not because we were particularly close or anything.”

“Gee, thanks, Tom. I’m not sure what that has to do with anything though.” She regrets the sharpness of her words instantly, Tommy letting out a long sigh as he shuffles his feet in the doorway to her office. 

“I remember because Joel came home that night. And back then, you’d be hard pressed to get him home unless it was Sunday and ma was ready to drag him by his ears over for dinner. But it was a Tuesday, and he came home that night, and he cried.” There’s no stopping the tears now, not when Tommy’s voice breaks, covering it up with a clipped laugh and a swipe of his knuckles under his nose. 

“I don’t think I had ever seen him cry that hard. Jesus, he couldn’t breathe, and it– it just wouldn’t stop. At the time I was kinda pissed, to be honest, because he wouldn’t shut up, just wailing like a little kid.” All she can do to sit down in her desk chair, taking a shaky breath as Tommy toes his boot into the floor, trying to hide the crumple of his brow on his downturned face.

“And he kept saying the same thing over and over again, like he was trying to convince someone, maybe himself, I don’t know. He kept saying I did the right thing.” Her whole body shudders, sniffling back snot as her vision swims. She doesn’t know what all Joel has told Tommy, whether he knows just exactly what happened that summer. But the way that he’s looking at her now, frown slipping heavy down his face, earnest, honest, she thinks that he knows enough, has seen and heard enough to be giving her nothing but the truth.

“Not that I’d admit this to him, but I love my brother, really, I do. But, Cher, he can be a fucking idiot about stuff like this. And I know that he doesn’t deserve another chance for the shit he’s pulled, but I just– you gotta understand how much love he has for you.” What could she possibly say to that? For a moment, it’s quiet, both of them taking stuttered inhales and exhales, trying to breathe in the fact of what was just said. 

“Tom, where is Joel working today?”

…

“You have to read this book. I’m about halfway finished with it and it’s so good.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t think I’ve heard of that author before.”

“That’s because it’s her first book, I think. But seriously, she’s totally a genius.” 

“Hmm, I’ll have to check it out then.” 

He keeps his smile hidden behind his palm, elbow propped on his desk as he listens in to the conversation between the two students in the row ahead of him. It’s her book, he caught a glimpse of her name on the spine of it. It both buoys and batters him, a strange feeling settling in his stomach as his evening class begins. 

Something his boss recommended to him. A degree at the community college that will supposedly open up all these doors for him. At least that’s what he tells himself when he slogs over to the campus after work every night. Another year to go and then, and then. Something good, he hopes. For him and for Sarah.

The same thing every day. Get up at five, if there’s sleep to be gotten up from in the first place. Get Sarah sorted and driven over to his parents’ house and then get to work by seven. Work and work and work, a good seven or eight hours before he has to book it to class. Then class, something he never enjoyed, and especially doesn’t care for now, working hard at it only for the sake of getting out of it sooner. 

Last week, Deedee had tried setting him up on a date with the daughter of one of the women she plays Euchre with every Wednesday. She even offered to take Sarah for the night, a smile so steeped in hope that it had made him feel a little sick. He had sighed and made a half-hearted joke, something about a date getting him here in the first place. A distraction getting him here in the first place. 

Night is creeping in by the time he gets out of class, streets going dark save for the syrupy glow of house windows, of families sitting down for dinner. And he’s never late, always at his parents’ house when he says he will be, so just this once, just a little late. He goes to the store a little further away because he knows there’s a bookstore a block down from it, lucky that it’s still open this late. 

And everything gets saved that doesn’t have to be spent, so just this once, something for him. They have her book on display in the front of the store. Exactly what he was hoping for, her picture on the back of the dust jacket. The same and different, all grown up. 

He buys himself a copy, but he doesn’t open it, not yet, keeping it in his lap the entire drive back. 

…

Maybe a little crazy, driving her minivan through an active jobsite, men stopping in their work to tilt their hard-hatted heads at her when she parks in the midst of gravel and sawdust right in front of the half-built house. But she’s too hell-bent on the task at hand to care much, marching right up to the nearest man and asking him where Joel Miller is. 

“Sorry, ma’am, who are you again?” 

“Who am I? Who am I? I’m someone important, buddy, that’s who I am. Now if you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll just start wandering all over this place and probably land you with an OSHA violation. So if I were you, I’d make this easier for both of us and just take me to him, thanks.” She can hear a murmur of snickers and yips from the other men working around them, and it seems like enough to get this guy moving with a muttered okay then. 

She acquiesces to putting a hard hat on, something about an actual OSHA violation, before following the man into the bare bones of the house. Some walls are put up, and some are still only frames, saws whirring and nails guns firing all around her, a perfect swirl of work and the smell of cedar that she tries to skirt around as the man leads her further into the fray. 

When she sees him, she thinks to herself that it’s not fair, the way he looks with a tool belt slung low around his hips, his t-shirt clinging to the shifting planes of muscle in his back as he leans over a workbench to look at a scroll of blueprints. No, not fair at all, her throat going dry with just how not fair at all it is. 

“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” Boss, right, he’s the boss. Fan-fucking-tastic. Joel’s head whips around, immediate confusion scrunching up his face when he sees her. 

“Cherry? What– what’re you doing here?”

“What?” It’s nearly impossible to hear him over the incessant sound of work going on around them, though Joel is quick to usher her away from the thick of things and into a half-finished room that she guesses could either turn into a bathroom or a closet judging by its size. It’s a bit ridiculous that Joel closes the door to the room given that one of the walls still hasn’t been put up. 

“Why– how did you find me here?” She’s just a little annoyed at how inconvenienced he’s acting, his hand on his hip and his knee jutted out as he raises his brows at her. It’s enough to get her angry all over again.

“Tommy finished the porch today and refused to take my check, so I asked him where I could find you and tuck this fucking money into your hands myself.” She punctuates her words by taking the folded-up check out of her pocket and shoving it into his chest, but Joel doesn’t accept it, the slip of paper falling to the ground when she pulls her hand away. What he does next is far more infuriating though, not breaking eye contact with her as he bends down and swipes up the check between two fingers before promptly ripping the thing up far more times than it needs to be.

“Don’t try to write me another one, Cher, I’ll just do the same thing.” A bitter laugh slips up her throat, and before she knows what she’s doing, the heel of her palm is shoving into his chest. Except he’s bigger now, broader, so what once would have made him stumble now only makes him sway a little. All the more reason to do it again.

“You– fucking– ass– Joel Miller!” He’s still unmoving under her ministrations, each of her words coming with an admittedly weaker shove until finally, Joel says her name, a quiet plea. And she wasn’t supposed to cry, that’s what she told herself on the drive over here. Under no circumstances was she going to cry. Yeah, right, big blubbering streaks running down her face already. Her hands fall limp at her sides as she shakes with it, whatever it is. Easier to call it anger, but she knows that’s not what it is. 

“Cherry, please don’t cry.” She wants him to reach for her, wants to feel his palms smoothing that shudder, and for a moment, it looks like he will, but his hands just hang suspended between them, like he has thought better of it. She wishes he hadn’t thought better of it. 

“I can’t– I can’t do this. You make this so hard, Joel, do you know that?” His face falls, feet shuffling closer until the toes of his boots are brushing against her sneakers. 

“What can’t you do?” 

“This– this– I want to be with you so badly, but I just can’t.” She hates what a relief it is when he finally reaches for her, his palm resting along her jaw, the calloused pad of his thumb collecting stray salt. 

“Why can’t you? I– I’ve been wanting you for a long time, Cher. We could do it, I know we could.”

“I’ve heard that before, Joel. And it didn’t end well.” She can’t look at him as she says it, her stomach sinking with the words. Because it’s true, after all. He sighs, a long, dejected sound that makes her tear up all over again.

“Will you look at me, please?” She doesn’t want to, and isn’t sure if she can right now, but he shows her how, his knuckles crooking under her chin, a soft please that she folds to, finally meeting his eyes with hers.

“I can’t change what I did in the past, Cherry. And it kills me that I hurt you, but I was trying to do right by you. I don’t know anymore if I did, and I don’t know anymore if it even matters. But what I do know is I never stopped loving you. And if you’ll have me, I’ll be yours until the day I die, and probably then some, to be honest.” A laugh at that, thick with snot, feeling good in the midst of all these tears. She curls her fingers around his wrist where his hand is still cupped along her cheek, a tug to come closer so she can rest her forehead against his, though there’s a small shuffle first, both of them pushing their hard-hats off, paying no mind to the clatter of them when her nose brushes along the line of his. 

“Don’t make me a promise you can’t keep.” She says it quiet, almost reluctant, but Joel just smiles.

“Not a promise, just the truth. Reckon I’ve been yours my whole life. And I’ve been hoping you’ll be mine too.” Something blooms inside her, relief in opening up, in allowing even amidst that still-there grip of fear. Because he’s here, and so is she, and there’s plenty of time to prove that fear wrong, to get it right, now, here, in the present. 

She doesn’t answer with words, just closes the space still between them, the easiest yes in the way her lips press against his.

…

He knows he needs to go in. Needs to gather up Sarah and get back to their shoebox apartment so the whole routine can start over tomorrow morning. But quick, he can be quick, sitting in his truck with only the faint slant of clarity from the streetlight to brighten the pages. He steals the first chapter just like that, quiet, mouth moving with every word. And it’s a peculiar feeling, like pride, though he knows he has know business letting that swell in his chest with the way things ended between them. It’s good, of course it’s good. Not that he’s some well-seasoned reader, but he knows good when he sees it, and she was always so good, he thinks. 

He’s only twenty minutes late when he finally knocks on his parents’ front door, and though Deedee makes nothing of it, he still feels that guilt sickening and skittering up his spine, trying to tamp it down with kisses pressed into Sarah’s curls. 

By the time he gets them home, Sarah is indignant, fussy coos humming in her chest, ready for a bottle that he still has to make. Muscle memory, auto-pilot, he heats it up with her in one arm and the book held in his other hand, plowing through half of chapter two before he finally has to set it down to feed his girl. His girl, his perfect girl. He has enjoyed doing this from the very start, one of the things he always felt he could get right, at the very least. Simple and sweet, all the motions of bedtime, a small mercy that she goes down easy tonight because he’s still thinking about the book he left splayed open on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t sit down, just simply leans over the counter to keep reading under the light above the stove. 

Sarah begins to cry about an hour and a half later, and by then he has already finished half of the book, careful to mark his place before checking on his girl. His hands still shake sometimes with the reality of holding her, something so small and careful that he has to roll his shoulders back a few times after every diaper change, every close cradle, like his whole body braces for her, trying to be big and enough for her. And he should get some sleep now, he knows that. But he reasons to himself that he’ll be waking up in an hour or two anyways for her, so, might as well. 

Just like that, for the rest of the night, back and forth between Sarah and his close huddle over the kitchen counter. By the time morning is starting to blush that pale blue through the curtains, he has read the whole thing. 

And no, not his place, and no, he has no right, but he is proud of her. Proud that she got out, proud that she did it. And relief too, that maybe he did the right thing after all, even though it hurt so very much.

…

Maybe a little crazy, the both of them. She’s pretty sure she heard a few wolf whistles when she led Joel out of the house and back to her car, but she doesn’t care, and she doesn’t think he does either judging by the way he keeps rubbing his palms down the front of his jeans in the passenger seat, both of them sweeping their eyes over the half-finished lots of this new neighborhood, searching for the same thing.

“Wait, right there.”

“Right where, Joel? There aren’t any–” She doesn’t finish that thought, a gasp high in her throat cutting it off when Joel reaches across for the wheel and veers her car right off the street and into an empty lot. The only reason she doesn’t press the brake is because she’s too stunned to move, letting the car roll into a thick copse of trees. She’s only snapped out of her stupor when Joel huffs out a right here, stop, stop, Cher, bringing the car to a stuttering halt. It’s all she can do to laugh as she looks around at the perfectly secluded spot.

“You always did have a talent for finding places like this.” He grins crooked at her, still leaning over the console with his hand on the wheel.

“Yeah, well, you– just c’mere.” Not pretty, not at all. A little greedy and a little desperate, her elbow beeping the horn as she scrambles over the console, Joel groaning when her knee lands a little too close to his crotch before she finally settles in his lap. He holds her by the hinge of her jaw, opening her mouth with his and taking everything she has to give. And in turn, she seeks out more however she can get it, one hand in his hair tugging when his teeth nick her bottom lip, her other hand bunched into a fist in his t-shirt. And it should be good, except it’s all so scrunched up in the passenger seat, and her legs are bent at such an angle that when she tries to grind her hips down onto his, she ends up with a mortifying cramp in her hamstring. 

“Oh fuck.”

“I know, Cher, me too.”

“No, I mean, my– my leg is– I need to get up, it’s–” Joel finally seems to get the hint when she lets out a hiss of pain, quick to open the passenger side door so she can hobble down off his lap, tenderly trying to stretch out her leg in a graceless hop. Luckily, it seems to sort itself out, though Joel still gets out of the car, making her heart do something strange when he holds onto her hip with one hand as he rubs out the muscle in her leg with his other palm, squinting up at her and murmuring a question, that better?

“Y-yeah, thank you. We could– the backseats go all the way down.” He’s a sight, eyes big and blown out, lips parted in a swollen little pant as he looks at her. 

“Right, let’s– let’s do that then.” She makes quick work of cranking open the sliding door of the minivan and folding the backseats down, plenty of room to assure that there won’t be anymore cramping crises. When she turns around to usher him into the back, Joel is quick to stamp a hard kiss to her mouth, a breathless laugh punching out of her lungs when he pulls away.

“Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Cher.” 

“Well, if you liked that, just wait until I put the seats back in place.” His smile splits, all boyish in the way his eyes crinkle up. And it’s all graceless fumbling from there, both of them crawling into the back, leaving the door cracked to let in the late summer breeze, though she can already feel sweat sticking her shirt to her back. Not that it matters though, not when they’re both making quick work of each other’s clothes. 

Her want wills, and he answers in kind, letting her press him back, bare for her, heart beating for her as she settles between his legs, already taking him into her mouth, salt and sense, all him making her hum low in her chest. 

“Jesus, look at you– so fucking pretty like this, Cher.” He’s one to talk, she thinks, chest flushed to blaze all the way up to his cheeks, his eyes heavy and hooded looking down at her as she laps at his leaking tip before taking as much of him as she can into the heat of her mouth. Though he doesn’t let her work him over for long, a petulant hand curling around the nape of her neck and a breathy baby, baby, c’mere coaxing her up, both of them sighing when the swollen ache of her cunt grazes along his length. 

“Like this– I want it like this, Joel.” Her lips drag the word up the arc of his throat, sealing them with her lips slanting over his.

“It’s all yours, Cherry. I’m all yours.” They move together like they never stopped in the first place, all quiet communication in the press of their foreheads, eyes turned down to watch as she sinks down onto his throbbing cock, a high sound stopping itself in the back of her throat as her hips settle against his. For a moment, just this, the tight peaks of her nipples grazing his chest with each broken breath, palms smoothing along skin only to grab greedy handfuls where they can. And then the quiet murmur, good? Yes, so good. Moving with so good simpering up and down her spine, a moan breaking in her chest with the first pass of her hips against his. 

He lets her find the rhythm first, his mouth hot and open against the side of her breast, all coaxing, all consuming with the way his hands grip at her ass. Everything turns hazy and humid in their close press in the back of her car, skin slick and sticking, chests fluttering with hard pants. 

Not so young anymore, either of them, getting a little ahead of their own pleasure because she can already feel it snaring and snapping in her pelvis, that liquid languor that turns taut so fast. And of course Joel can tell, bringing his hand to curl around her hip so he can drag messy circles against her clit, mouth open and pleading against hers. 

“That’s it, Cherry, take it for me. Fuck, I wanna feel it, just like that.” Her breath catches in her throat, that searing snap that slackens everything else, his name on her next exhale as everything melts down around her. Just him, and the close grind of his hips up into hers that’s snarling on the edge of too much, cracked whimpers with each thrust that she bites back, wanting his pleasure just as much as she wants her own. 

“Baby, baby, so good like this. Want it so bad, want you so bad.” Her lips slide against the shell of his ear, crooking into a grin when he groans at her words, his grip on her tensing and tightening as he comes, warmth spreading and sating. 

All tangled up, their bodies slacken and slump, splayed out in the back of her car as they both catch their breath. Joel’s head tilts up when she huffs out a laugh, breath fanning over his chest where her chin is resting.

“I don’t think that was the smartest way we could’ve started this new relationship thing.” 

“I think we’re pretty far past new relationship, Cher.” She hums at that, no real argument, settling instead for a kiss pressed into the bare patch in his scruff. 

“You know, Ellie asked about you.” Joel’s eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Seriously? Thought that kid hated me.”

“Mm, I think you won her over with the diarrhea joke.” 

“Well it certainly worked on you.” 

“Unfortunately.” He huffs at her dig, laying a mean squeeze to the crease where her ass meets her thigh. 

“Unfortunately, none of that, Cherry baby.” Ease, all ease in their shared smile, settling back down around each other with a sigh. They’ll have to untangle soon, leave soon, back to reality soon. But for now, this time with him, all the time to say what she wants to say to him.

“I never stopped, you know. I think that’s why I came back, at least partly. I was hoping that you hadn’t stopped either.” Her cheek rises and falls with his breath, Joel trailing his finger along her jaw to coax her eyes back up to his.

“I didn’t, Cher. Even when I didn’t wanna admit it to myself, I was waiting for you, hoping for you too.”

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

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[mochipatch]

Something to Prove and Nothing to Lose

Ricky: YES YES YES! This is a masterclass, Carlos, good job!

Carlos: Yes! Yes! Thank you! Ahh, this feels so good! Forza Ferrari!

It was the perfect weekend. It is the ideal weekend.

He had been feeling it since the end of the month-long break. This uphill climb in 2024 is the hardest thing he has fought in his racing career, losing a seat to a seven-time world champion, scrambling on his feet to get back up and find a team that will welcome him with open arms (a top team is a bonus), where he could find a new home. With the second break coming to an end. He started to feel it. He can feel it thrumming in his veins. 

He felt it at COTA. He had it on hand. First, on FP1, Sprint Qualifying could have gone better, but he gritted his teeth, taking in on every opportunity. Ultimately, it was P2, which was good but not good enough. Qualifying felt good until a red flag aborted his run, which could have been pole. He had a good start, but the squabble between Max and Lando caught him in a bind, which was not the same with Charles, who got away smoothly and led laps to victory while he ended in P2. He always said he wanted another win before leaving Ferrari in his interviews. Time is running out with six races left, and he is P2. Frustrated, he could have done better but was a victim of circumstance. The racing gods whispering in his head - No, not yet. 

The celebration of the team in their motorhome felt like the start of a goodbye. Maybe this is what it all could be - a podium but never a win. So he tried to soak it all up, disappointment emanating from every pore in his body but trying to be happy because he would not be a person to rob off a good celebration for a team, the team that he has bled red for ever since his childhood dream team opened its door to him, much less a teammate that he considers a good friend and a good motivator to be better. 

We will go and start again is his mantra. 

Mexico is always a lively affair with all the pomp and circumstance. He never finished on the podium in this circuit, but the free practices felt promising, placing him in the top 3 every time. Qualifying was nerve-wracking in Q1 and Q3, but something clicked in Q3, and he got two lap times that ensured him pole position on both occasions. He savors the high, the adrenaline rushing through him. He is giggly and all joyous, as if he is already on the podium. Everything felt right. A thought ran through his head - Is this my time? Asking the voice in his head, which denied him COTA. No one answered.

It’s lights out, and away we go.

He is off to a good start, but Max is even better. He tried his darndest to defend, but Max got the upper hand; he had nothing to lose now, but crashing was not an option, so he chose to run to the grass and give back the position. Is this your answer to my question? He asks again. A safety car allowed him to be closer to Max, but it was only until lap 9 that he decided to take charge. Damned be the racing gods, he will take charge. He overtakes Max, but Max isn’t going down without a fight. But by the skin of his teeth, he takes the lead and defends the overtake. He manages his tires, looking for every variable that could go wrong. He won’t be comfortable until he crosses the checkered flag. He has hunted, and the 19 drivers behind him will hunt him down to take his place if a sliver of opportunity arises. As lap 71 nears, he grows more and more confident. He knows Lando is catching up with the gap closing into 4 seconds, but he knows that the laps will not be enough to catch him. It's the last lap; he aims to go to their side once he sees the pit wall. He spots a pit board and the people in red climbing the fence, raising their fists and yelling, never mind that the roar of the engines drowns out their voices. He crosses the checkered flag, and his mind blanks for a second. He did it. He did it. 

HE FUCKING DID IT. 

He hears Ricky's radio, and he answers on autopilot. Thanking Ferrari, thanking the team that let him bleed red even if it left him feeling nothing, for letting him walk through the doors of history, of legacy. He parks his car in front of the P1 sign board, and it takes him a second to process what happened. He gets out of the car, and there is something in the crowd's layout that feels like this win was just made for him. The mechanics pull him into a hug, and he hugs them just as fiercely, hoping his hold conveys his gratitude to them. 

It was tradition for the winner to wear a sombrero while being lifted off the platform; he just wanted something simple for all the fanfare he had gone through this weekend. He opts out of the sombrero and just holds his helmet because it all boils down to this: he and his car. He raises his helmet to the crowd, pointing at his number, and takes in the crowd once more. Once the Spanish National Anthem plays out, everything comes to a head: the euphoria of the win in front of the Mexican crowd and his family on the audience, the tiredness from the season that has brought him, and the bittersweet feeling of what would have been. Before he knows it, he feels a prickle in his eyes and cheeks. 

Oh. 

He is crying. 

The Italian anthem plays next when he hears a voice in his head. You did it. Your time has finally come once more. 

He took charge and the racing gods granted his wish; he waited, and he finally had it. 

[ofstoriesandstardust]

i love you, i'm sorry (twisters - dani)

a/n: okay. OKAY. this is finally here!! i hope you all enjoy; thank you for all the love, mwah. MWAH. (first part here)

summary: In the wake of Dani re-entering your life, you make some decisions about your future.

warnings: swearing, car accidents, minor injury, mentions of past physical abuse, minor physical violence

wc: 4.5k

Her heart feels like it’s in her throat as she watches your car speed up down the road, Dexter giving her a strange look. 

She wasn’t an idiot, she could see the way Scott was tossing his crews life to the tornados like it didn’t matter, tossing yours around like it was nothing. Every day that StormPar set out, a little more dread settled into her stomach as she wondered if this would be the time you didn’t come home. 

She won’t ever forget the worried tracks Javi had made in that muddy parking lot last week, the way your eyebrows had furrowed as you caught Javi yelling at Scott. She won’t forget Scott arguing with Riggs about money, the way Riggs had told him to do whatever it takes. 

She certainly won’t forget the way Kate had told her to say anything she felt she might need to before it was too late. 

She hadn’t spoken it to the team, her family, what you had been to her. She was afraid to speak those memories aloud, afraid to reopen a door she had shut when she’d left for Arkansas to come work for Tyler seven years ago. 

But she was sure they knew. It makes it all worse, watching Scott’s spiral from afar, unable to get close enough to convince you to let go of what you thought StormPar could be. 

“Scott’s got them headed straight into the tornado.” Dexter whispers as her eyes widen at the realization, coming back into the present. He scrambles for the radio, repeating the information down the line.

“Kate’s already in position, how close are they?” Javi’s voice comes down. 

The van rolls to a stop as her and Dexter begin to watch your car spin out onto a ditch next to the road, falling sideways as it does.

“Dani? Dex? What’s happening? I’ve only got view of two StormPar trucks on our end.” Boone’s voice sounds. 

It feels like time is frozen as she tugs at her seatbelt, desperate to get out and help you as Dexter relays the information to the rest of the team. 

“Dani —“ She pauses, eyes flickering to the radio as Tyler’s voice comes through the line. It’s strained, like he’s forcing himself to be calm. “Do not get out of that car. Let Kate and Javi do their thing. As soon as the storm has collapsed, we can pull them out but until then do not get out of that car. It’s not safe, do you hear me?” 

Dexter hands her the radio and she clicks it on, unsure of what she can say. “Ty, I-“ 

“I get it, D.” 

She thinks he probably does, ever since he watched Kate drive into the EF5 in El Reno that very well should have killed her. 

“I get it, but we can’t do anything right now and we can’t put anyone else’s life on the line right now.” 

She nods, handing the radio back to Dexter, even as the panic sort of sets in as a cold blanket over her. She couldn’t see the StormPar truck anymore and she knew the kid you were driving with hadn’t even made it a full week with StormPar yet. 

She swallows down all her guilt and all her grief as the storm falls prey to Kate’s brain. 

She might have left, she might have been the one to walk out, but she carried the love she had for you everyday. You’d helped her become who she was and she’d always care for you, even if you were adamant about standing on your side of the great divide. 

A million images float through her brain of you: passed out cold, bleeding, trapped against the roof of the car, lifeless… 

“Look!” Dexter exclaims, pointing something out in the distance. 

She squints, leaning forward. Just barely, she’s able to make out the sight of your partner climbing up the ditch the two of you had slid down into as Javi’s truck rounds the bend, Javi leaping out before Lilly’s even stopped. 

-

You groan, twisting your head. You think you can hear glass crunch as someone moves next to you.

“Hey, easy, easy.” They say softly and you blink your eyes open, catching sight of Javi. You take a deep breath as you take in the ruined truck. 

“That’s a tree.” You say bluntly, referencing the fallen tree that’s resting on the shattered windshield, as Javi climbs over the driver’s seat. He snorts, letting his hands fall gently. 

“It is. Good to see you still have your sense of humor in tact. I’m gonna try to lift you out okay? Do you think you can move?” 

Javi’s already unbuckled your seatbelt and you nod, lifting your left arm to wrap around his neck as his arms reach beneath your legs and back. You hiss as your right arms jostles and Javi mutters a couple of apologies as he lifts you. Once out of the truck, he sets you down gently. 

“You good to walk?” He asks as Tyler and Boone appear, shuffling down the edge of the ditch.

You nod, testing putting weight on your feet as Javi keeps his arms secure around you in case you can’t. “Yeah, yeah I think I’m okay.” 

Javi supports you, Tyler coming to your other side, mindful of your right arm as Boone flags someone down.

“Dani’s gonna check you out, okay?” Tyler says gently and you nod. “Though with the way you’re clutching that arm to your chest a trip to the ER might be best.” 

“Okay.” You says softly as Will’s face comes into view, concern marring all his features. 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” He nearly shouts, stumbling back. “Scott’s gonna kill me.” 

“Will.” You cut him off, wincing. “It’s all good. Happens. And not so loud, okay?” 

He nods, following after you like a lost puppy dog. “I’ve already radio’ed Scott and told him we need a pickup, they should be here soon. What do you need? Can I help you with anything?” 

“Will, was it?” Javi asks, turning. The boy nods. “Go sit out by Ty’s truck for Scott to come. We’re gonna have our medic check her out and we don’t really need all this excitement.” 

He nods, darting back down the road and you sigh as Tyler and Javi help you sit down into the back of their van. Dani rounds the car, first aid kit in hand. 

Tyler nudges Javi, nodding his head and Javi must get the message, turning to you. “Hey, we’re gonna give you guys some privacy. HIPPA and all that. Holler if you need us.” Javi says and you nod, giving him a tight smile. 

Dani sets to work in silence, asking you a few questions as she tests out for a concussion. She gingerly takes your right hand, stretching it out. You hiss and she mutters an apology as she flexes out your fingers. 

“Well, all in all, a few cuts, few bumps, few bruises. I can’t tell for sure but your wrist definitely seems to be fractured and you’re showing signs of a minor concussion so I’d definitely recommend getting yourself to an ER tonight.” 

You nod as Dani starts packing up her first aid kit. She pauses as you start to hear a truck come down the road. 

“By the way, I’m really glad you’re okay. It was terrifying to watch the car spin out like that.” She says quietly. 

“Dani-“ 

“I will deal with you later!” Scott’s voice comes from down the road, angry as ever. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” She mutters, glancing up as Scott rounds the van. 

“And you!” He yells, grabbing you by your injured wrist. Protests go up from the Wranglers as you wrestle gently to pull the arm from Scott’s grip. “How many times have I told you to stay away from these people?!”

You scoff, Scott releasing his hold. “Didn’t realize accepting medical help after what could’ve been a fatal car accident was that big of a deal.” 

“Of course it’s a big deal! Do you have any idea what’s at stake here?!” Scott gets closer to you, face going red and suddenly, it clicks. 

This can’t be your whole future. 

Working for a company that was so clearly hurting others, working a dangerous job when your bosses clearly had no care for your life, or that of any of your colleagues for that matter — you couldn’t do it. 

“Scott, I quit.” You say softly and he reels back as if you might’ve slapped him. “I quit, Scott. I’m not doing this with you anymore. Consider this my notice, effective immediately.” You say, voice gaining confidence. 

Scott scoffs, face getting even redder as Javi mutters out an “Oh shit.” 

“That’s fine by me. You’re replaceable. You were the diversity hire anyways. I don’t want women working for me.” He spits out before turning on his heel, striding towards the StormPar truck. 

You watch him drive away as the Wranglers stand around, watching you. 

“Okay, seriously, can someone drive me to the ER? If my wrist wasn’t broken then, it sure is now.” 

“Oh my God, yeah.” Dani says from behind you, coming to gently maneuver you towards the van. 

The Wranglers disperse, moving to get back into their cars as Javi shouts “Keep me posted!”

-

“Javi, hey, do you think you can drive me to the airport?” You ask, dropping your duffel bag on the ground next to him. He looks up at you as he eats his bagel, nodding. 

“Where you headed?” Tyler asks, rounding the truck. 

You shrug. “Not sure, honestly. Probably Texas for a minute to collect my things and then- who knows.” 

Boone bounds down the stairs as he shouts out, “This is some good shit StormPar!” 

You all turn as he hands the iPad over to Tyler but you already know what he’s looking at. 

Late last night, after Dani had driven you back from the ER and you had insisted you didn’t need anyone to watch over you, you’d grabbed your laptop and opened Twitter. 

Maybe it wasn’t recommended for someone with a low-grade concussion and sprained, not fractured, wrist to stare at your laptop for as long as you had but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as your fingers had flown over the keyboard, releasing everything you’d ever kept bottled up about StormPar. 

The thread had gone viral overnight and you knew it was damaging enough that StormPar may not be able to recover from. 

And if Boone was seeing it now, it was only a matter of time before Scott did. And while you had hoped you could be out of the state of Oklahoma before he did, it turns out you were in no such luck. 

Scott rounds the corner, swearing incoherently as he does, moving and talking much too fast for you to register anything other than “You little bitch!” and his hands on your throat. 

You think you hear Javi shouting, Tyler and Boone up against Scott as they all push him off of you. You stumble backwards, gasping for air as you collide with Kate. You flinch as you do but she puts her hands out, eyes wide as she tries to placate you. 

You blink and look up, Javi talking to you but no words reach your ears as your ass meets the asphalt in a slow fall. You feel dazed at what just happened, touching gently at where Scott had his hands placed. 

You know from experience that he’d had enough pressure, for however short of a time, that it’d leave a mark. 

A choked sob leaves you as you shut your eyes, realizing you’d almost stepped back in time. Same shit, different man, wasn’t that what your friends had said?

A familiar voice reaches your ears, soothing you as it does. “Hey, it’s just me.” She says, and you lean towards her as Dani, tears dripping down your face as you do. 

How many times had Dani found you like this? How many times had she coaxed you from the claws of a panic attack or a flashback or a nightmare? 

Her hand runs down your back in a slow, soothing circle and you can hear her move to sit on the ground next to you as you reach wipe your eyes. You look at her, meaning to talk but no words come out as you study her amber eyes, swimming with concern. 

How could you ever sum it all up?

“We’re all going back to Kate’s for a few days to regroup. I want you to come with us.” She says softly. 

You’re in no position to argue, not now, not when Dani is still looking at you like that. 

Like she might still love you. 

-

Your eyes are wide as Tyler talks through their experiment as you stand over Kate’s makeshift tornado town, Javi walking through what the radars really capture. 

“I have no idea what you just said to me.” You say through a breath, earning a laugh from Dani next to you as she knocks shoulders with you. 

“You never were the one for science stuff.” 

You shake your head. “No! My background isn’t even in meteorology!” 

“What the fuck were you even doing with StormPar then?” Tyler asks, hands falling to his waist as the group looks on. 

“PR shit.” 

“Your background isn’t in that either!” Dani exclaims through another laugh. 

“Yeah, but I’m sure good at using my words. Y’all saw what I could do in just a Twitter thread. Anyways, I was only out there to keep an eye on you.” You say with a nod to Javi. “Riggs knew that with the Wranglers reputation and the right amount of talk from Javi, people could turn on StormPar pretty quickly. I was there to pull their ass out of the fire if they did. Unfortunately for Riggs and StormPar, I ain’t loyal to them. What they hired me for is exactly what’s going to end them.”

“Shit dude.” Lilly mutters as your eyes flicker over the town. 

“I didn’t know this is what you all were doing out there though.” You say with a low whistle. “This is insane. This work could change everything.” 

“What did you think we were doing?” Javi asks as he crosses his arms. You shrug. 

“I dunno. Screwing around maybe. Getting in Scott’s way. I don’t even think Scott knew what you guys were doing out there, just that every time one moment there was a tornado and the next there wasn’t he was pissed.” You sigh. “But it makes sense now. If Kate collapses the tornados, it doesn’t matter if the scans worked or not on our end. If the property’s are saved because you guys got to the tornados before they could do real damage there’s no money for Riggs at the end of the day.”

“Fuck, I hate StormPar.” Boone mutters with a shake of his head. 

You snort. “Me and you both Booney.”

-

Your afternoon cat nap on Kate’s porch swing hadn’t seemed so bad, dozing as the sun warmed your ankles, the sound of the Wranglers puttering around Kate’s farm lulling you to sleep. 

Now though, as the weird dream image of your ex’s face on Scott’s body burns behind your eyelids, you regret that decision. You give another heave, distantly aware you’re throwing up into Cathy’s flowers and distantly you feel awful, but it’s hard to center that when you can’t tell if you’re choking because of someone’s hands around your throat or the acid burning as you dry heave again. 

Tears sting at your eyes as humiliation makes your face burn. You thought you were past this, past the nightmares and the flashbacks, past the need to please men who treated you like dirt. 

And there Dani is again, tugging to pull you up as you sit in the dirt of the garden bed and cry. 

“You’re okay.” She says softly. “You’re safe.”

You’re okay. You’re safe. 

She says it like a mantra, softly repeating the words over and over again as she guides you through the house and up the stairs to the bathroom. Her hands find the edges of your sweatshirt, pausing. 

“Can I?” She asks hesitantly. You can feel your eyes searching you but all you can do shrug, apathetic. 

“Not like it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

And it’s true. As the words leaves your lips, you’re flooded with a million different memories of soft intimacy, a knowledge that you would never had that again. 

This softness right here is wholly Dani. She’s charming and she’s funny, she’s strong-willed and loud mouthed, but she’s kind underneath it all. And you threw it all away because of your fear. 

This softness for you was fleeting. 

In a few days, you would go back to Texas and clear out your apartment. Or maybe you wouldn’t. Maybe you’d go back to Texas and find some shitty bartending job and marry some mediocre man who slept with his secretary on the side-

“Here.” 

So deep into your misery and wallowing, you hadn’t even realized Dani had tugged your vomit-covered sweatshirt off of you, leaving the bathroom to grab a new top. You swallow and take the fabric from her, glancing down at it. 

“This- this is my shirt.” 

The revelation, while should be obvious, confuses the hell out of your muddled brain as you fist the mustard yellow t-shirt. In all honesty, you thought you had just lost the shirt in one of your many, many moves during your college years. But if Dani had this then, that had meant-

A hope alighted in your chest as she glances away, the hope dying as quickly as it came. “Probably time to give it back to you.” 

And oh. Oh okay. 

You swallow thickly, letting the shirt fall to your lap as you move to sit on the edge of the tub. You wipe your eyes with back of your hands, tears stinging as your cheeks flame. 

“Dani, I came out to my parents.” You say quietly. “I know it doesn’t fix it and it doesn’t make you come back but I did.” You shrug, looking up at her. Confusion is written into her amber eyes. “You asked that day at the diner, why I don’t talk to them anymore. That’s why.” 

She lets out a low whistle, crouching down to look you in the eye. “Shit man, they not take it well?” 

“Bout as well as I expected. You know how they were, they were allies except when it came to their own kid.” 

She shakes her head. “Never did understand that.” 

“It fucks with their image.” You say, not unbitter. “Cause then they’re the ones with the weird homosexual kid everyone gossips about.”

“Hey, are you guys okay in here?” Lilly asks, rounding the corner. You realize you’re still shirtless and tug the material over your head as Dani stands. 

“‘M fine. Just- shit from my past.” You breathe out as you stand up. “I’m real sorry about Cathy’s flowers.” 

Lilly waves a hand. “Nah, she says it’s fine, just more worried about you.” She takes a step closer. “You- you are alright, right? Cause that shit with Scott this morning was next level and-“ 

“I’m fine.” You interrupt, stepping past Dani in the small space. “Just needed a minute.” 

You give both of the girls a tight smile, moving past Lilly to head down the stairs to get water, ignoring the way your heart clenches every time the soft fabric of your shirt moves against your skin. 

-

“I need to talk to you.” 

You and Javi both turn. He’s leaned up against the backside of the barn as he talks to you quietly about their research and your work, if somewhere down the road you could see yourself coming back to storm chasing. 

Javi runs a hand through his curls, taking a few steps back towards the house. “I’ll give you two a minute.” 

You glance up at Dani from where you’re sitting on a hay bale, the sky painting itself into a dreamy purple above her. “Hi.” 

She sticks her hands in her pockets, all bravado from a few minutes ago gone. “T says you’re leaving in the morning. That true?” 

You nod. “Figure it’s past time I get out of y’alls way.” 

“You aren’t- you aren’t in the way.” She huffs as you raise an eyebrow, pushing to stand. 

“Storm chasing was always your thing, remember?” You call back as you move to follow Javi. 

“And what if I said I wanted you to stay?” She calls after you as you near the Carter’s back porch. You pause before turning back to face her. She’s hard to read and you let out a breathe. 

“I don’t know why you would.” You say honestly but you can tell it was the wrong thing from the way she flinches. 

“So all that time we spent together, it really meant nothing.” 

“Yeah, but Dani-“ You let out a mix of a sigh and a groan, scrubbing a hand down your face before you putter a few feet forward. “Dani, that was seven years ago. You can’t honestly tell me you haven’t moved on.” 

“Have you?” 

The question, in its nature, is a deflection. She knows it and you know it but it doesn’t stop your words from getting stuck in your throat, freezing as you’re unable to deny it. 

Because you haven’t. You don’t know how you could. How anyone could. 

Dani was the best person you’ve ever known and though she’s grown up a lot in the years since she was yours, you’ve never forgotten that she had always been, forever would be, home to you. 

She sighs, reaching up to rub the back of her neck. “I- I want you to stay.” She says quietly. “I’ve already- sort of- well, T already knows. And- and they all love you and I’ve got an apartment out in Tulsa with Lilly and you could- you could stay there. With us.” 

Your mouth feels dry as you swallow, unsure of what to say to her. A million things pass through, none of them sticking. 

I couldn’t.

Do you know? That I’m still in love with you?

You never stopped meaning something to me? 

Do you mean it?

You finally land on a quiet, “I don’t know how to just be your friend D.”

There’s that quietly confident Dani again as she cocks her head. “You really think I’m saying we’re just friends?” 

You scoff. “It’s been seven years, are you really going to tell me that you’re still-?” 

In love with me?

Because you were. You were still, hopelessly, foolishly, forever the girls in front of you. But she was the one who had left and she was the one who had decided your love wasn’t enough and that she needed to find a new life. 

“Are you?” She challenges and you shake your head in irritation. 

“You don’t get to keep doing that. You first. Answer the question.” She gives you a look, as if to say you really have to ask? which only makes your irritation grow. “That’s not fucking fair Dani. You’re the one who left for storm chasing in Arkansas remember? I would’ve done anything for you, gone anywhere for you. I love you, more than I’ll ever love someone else again.” 

The fact that you say love as in love present tense goes unnoticed by the both of you as Dani gives you an unimpressed look. “Anything except come out of the closet.”

You’re a bit stunned she’s going to go there, knowing how painful of a decision like that had been. What it had cost you. You’d lost Dani but you’d lost everything else too. At the end of it, you’d lost all that she had gained. 

“That’s- that’s not fucking fair.” You say wetly. “That wasn’t your choice to make. And guess fucking what Dani? I did come of the closet. And it didn’t bring you back. But I guess that’s all you care about now huh, public perception, with your fucking one million subscribers.” 

You turn on your heel, furiously wiping away the tears that had surprised you as you storm back up to the house. 

And then, she’s in front of you, swimming in your vision. She reaches out for your wrist, tight enough to keep your from moving but loose enough for you to know that if you really wanted to leave you could. 

“That’s- that ain’t- that’s not what I meant.” She says, breathless. “I meant- I shouldn’t have gone there. I know, I know you sacrificed a lot for me.” She swallows, readjusting her grip on her wrist. “I asked a lot of you, to come out that way and I should’ve listened to you when you said why you didn’t want to. I didn’t- I cost you your family, I know that.” 

“Fuck my family.” You say thickly with a shrug. “But you don’t gotta do this just cause- you feel guilty or something.”

She shakes her head. “I’ve been going about this all wrong, ain’t I?” She blows out a breath, letting you go and taking a step back. 

“Yeah, the truth is I’m- I’m still in love with you. I don’t know how I couldn’t be.” She scrubs a hand over her face. “I never stopped loving you, loved you so much that I asked you to come out even when I knew why you wouldn’t. And I mean- it didn’t take me long after I left to realize what I’d done and I was stupid, kept thinking I’d get some sort of second chance with you. Every day for seven years, it’s followed me, losing you. And then there you were, working for StormPar.” 

She scrubs a hand down her facing, groaning.

“Shit, you- you were right there and yet so out of reach and I thought- thought this might be some sort of punishment for leaving the way I did, for not having an ounce of an empathy for you.” 

“No Dani-“ You go to protest. 

You may have not liked her reasons for breaking up with you, but you understood them, devastating as they were. 

But she keeps going. 

“And then- and then watching your car slide down into that ditch. I thought you were dead. I- I couldn’t believe that I had spent seven years wishing to make things right just to lose the chance to some man who didn’t care about anyone but himself. And then when he put his hands on you- I wanted to fucking kill him.” 

You blink, breath hitching at her words. She finally raises her eyes, a cautious look. 

“I don’t- I don’t want you to leave. Not again. I just got you back.” 

“Dani, I-“ You swallow, something shifting in you. 

And then you do something that shocks you both. 

You match the few steps forward, grasping her shirt, and kiss her. 

To Dani’s credit, she overcomes her surprise well, only letting out a noise before her hands find your belt loops, tight as if you might change your mind, might be the one to leave this time. 

Her kiss is soft, lips chapped against yours, and all of the sudden you realize-

You’re home. 

[chososheart]

Trainwreck - Eren Jaeger (9)

Chapter seven: Third Time’s a Charm?

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Reader

Series summary: Reader is an 18-year-old, high school student. On her way to school one day, she meets a boy on the train. Will their train, wreck or will they somehow make it work?

Info on Reader: Reader is a logical person. She’s organized and tidy. She uses logic and common sense when she makes choices. Some events in her life and some people in her life will cause her to question her sanity as she no longer can differentiate if she’s using her heart or brain.

Info on Eren Jaeger in this book: Eren doesn’t think. He uses his heart to express himself. If he feels like something is wrong, he will act on those feelings. He’s very emotional and speaks his mind. There haven’t been many times when Eren felt regret after acting on his emotions; until he met you.

Content: High school! Au, Eren x Reader, strangers to friends, friends to lovers, eventual smut.

word count: 6.2k

CW: alcohol consumption, suggestive content.

see masterlist | navigation | read previous chapter | read next chapter

You like to think back to that moment. Replay it in your head as if it were a record player, but one of those old record players. The ones that get jammed and replay the same tune over and over again. It was ridiculous. You felt pathetic. It was as if you had never had a romantic interaction with a boy. All he did was hand you a sweatshirt because you were cold. Many others have probably done that to you; why is it only a big deal now?

That's the thing about Eren, that's the thing that terrifies you the most about him. You feel like a kid. You feel nervous looking at him and making eye contact, hot and sweaty after your skin accidentally touches his. It's twice as intense as that first crush everyone remembers, that first love everyone carries with them. God, you can't even remember your first love's name! Eren makes you question the feeling in your chest. He makes you feel like this is the first time you've ever fallen, and it's treacherous; it haunts you. You feel unsure of when to move or step forward and when to proceed and advance. So you don't. You simply stand still.

A raindrop quickly slides down the window you lay your head against.

It has been a few weeks since Eren invited you to Historia's beach house. You finished the first semester of your senior year. The thought of how fast the year has gone by makes your head spin. You can't believe this time next year, you'll be in college, probably stressing about your grades and coming back home for Christmas.

I wonder if Eren and I will still be together.

You tightly close your eyes and squeeze that thought away. It isn't important.

You hear the girls in the car blabber and sing along to whatever song is jammed on the radio, well, glitching because the music they downloaded illegally isn't working, shocker! You don't know whose it was; you have kept your eyes focused on the cloudy weather outside for the past few hours. You feel a bit sick, but you are not sure what you can blame it on, the car or your disgustingly sweet thoughts of Eren.

You've never been the obsessive type and have never felt sick to your stomach over not having someone. Frankly, you've spent most of your teen years away from boys because all they bring is drama and pain. You don't know what's remotely different about Eren from every other boy you've met before, but it works; God, how it works in his favor. You feel miserable at times. You feel as if this is all in your head. What if this is entirely one-sided? What if he's perfectly fine and doesn't care about you and the potential relationship you've built in your head?

Ugh.

The closer you get there, the lower down your stomach falls. With every meter passing by, the tingle on your fingertips grows more feeble, unstable. It worries you, really. How bad have you gotten that even the anxious feelings within you have become unpredictable?

You were up all night, for your excitement forbade you from peace. All you were able to get were a few measly hours. A haze so painful encircled your head that the rocking from it resting against the window surprisingly soothed you; your eyelids fell heavy. Your head felt stuck as if you had just crashed after allowing yourself to indulge in a much too-sweet pastry—your brain, finally ready to admit defeat and slow down. You don't fight it off; you allow your body and mind to rest.

"Hey, c'mon! Wake up. We're here!" Historia shakes you awake.

It's brighter now than it was before. It's still cloudy, of course, but the sun has managed to shine through. You still feel the heaviness you did this morning, but it is now evenly spread throughout your body instead of residing only in your heart and mind. With a quick stretch, you're out the door.

Historia lives in a house on the top of a small hill, not that close to the sea, but close enough to walk there. Her home is average-sized, actually. The stairs are a bit tight, but the main room is large, with two queen-sized beds.

Is he here already?

Historia noticed your hesitant look. "The boys will sleep in the small bedroom downstairs, a bunch of bunk beds." She scrunched her nose and smiled.

"Oh, okay." You smile back.

"Who are you sleeping with?" Historia says, dragging her suitcase through the door. "Me? Or stinky Sasha?"

Sasha sets her bags down next to the bed closest to the window. "Hey!"

You laugh, "Can we join the beds? I'll sleep in the middle."

Historia thinks for a second. "Yeah, sure."

After moving the beds and putting your clothes away, you go downstairs. If you had to describe how you felt in one word, it's lagged, even though you haven't been on an airplane this evening. The car ride didn't mix well with you.

You go down each step, tightly holding on to the railing. Not only were the stairs on the smaller side, but they were also circular; the steps were short. When you get to the kitchen, you stop in your tracks.

Eren.

There he stood, surrounded by a black kitchen counter and island. The cabinets and drawers were tinted a dark brown. He turns and catches your eyes in his. He looks away briefly, only to meet your eyes with his yet again.

"Hey," you say, approaching him.

"Hey." He turns back around, a soft smile on his face.

"Why are you hogging the blender?"

"Ha. Ha." He shakes his head. "I'm making a banana smoothie." He faces you. "Want some?"

You smile. "Sure, what's in it?"

"Banana and almond milk."

"Okay, skinny."

Eren laughed and pushed you slightly with his elbow. "It's how my mum made it for me growing up."

"No protein powder?"

"Don't think Carla Jaeger was on the bulk grind, so no."

"I mean," you jump and sit on the counter, "maybe not with you, but definitely with Mikasa. I bet she's been strong all her life."

"Yeah, except she's adopted."

You roll your eyes with a laugh. "Okay, sue me for not making assumptions."

"She's wasian, bro, c'mon." He unpeels a banana and throws it in the blender.

"Yeah, and so was Miranda Croscove, according to the masses."

"No, you're just dumb. Pass the almond milk."

You pass him the tall container next to the sink and continue looking at him. "Bet the 'you're adopted jokes' went crazy, huh?"

"No, because I'm a decent human being, weirdo." He pours the milk into the blender and hits start.

You punch his arm. "Hey!"

He points to his ear, signaling he can't hear you from the blender's noise, and laughs.

"Asshole."

He gapes at you.

"Oh, so that you hear?" You laugh and hop off the counter. You playfully push him.

"You punch like that bitchboy Jean," he screams and runs away.

That's like the worst insult.

You chase him around the kitchen island as he covers the arm you keep hitting. It hurts, but he won't give you the satisfaction.

Then the blender stops by itself, and he turns and grabs both your arms by the wrists. "Hey, we're even, we're even." He pants, and suddenly, you realize how much you wish he was on top of you.

Eren is wearing a casual grey shirt and sweats, the same as you, but a different color scheme distances your choices. You fight off the flush that burned the back of your neck. You snatch your arms away from him and sit on the counter again.

"But, yeah, Mikasa was better than me in everything regarding physical shit, so I resorted to psychological torture."

"You're so evil, my God.”

"Hey, I had to survive. Armin was the mediator and fixed it before she told on me, so it's okay."

"Evil. Pass me a cup." You feel a slightly cooled air swimming deep in your stomach. It isn't too noticeable, not in a way that would paralyze you, but it is there, in the back of your mind, acknowledged.

"Say pretty please." He teased, which only made you smile.

"God, you are so corny."

"Say it." He had an empty cup in his hand, which he held back while looking into your eyes. Smile lines and joy reached his eyes despite his smile being faint.

"Pretty please," you say, annoyance staining your voice but not your face.

He places two cups on the counter and pours the drink into them.

You take a sip. "Okay, it's good."

"Told you. What'd you come in here for?" He takes a bigger gulp.

"Oh, right. I wanted lime."

He stops drinking and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, "Lime?"

"Yeah, I got car sick."

"You look fine to me." He had an arrogant expression on his face, as always.

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, but I still want it."

Since Eren is standing before you, you try to move him away with your hands so you can hop off the counter, but he stops you.

"I'll get it." he goes to the fruit cart next to the balcony door and grabs you a lime. He cuts it and gives you a half. "Smell it."

"The lime?"

"Yeah, it helps."

You do as he says and feel some tension lift away. He grabs you a plate and pours some salt into it. "It's better to have it like this."

You scrunch your nose, "I was going to squeeze it in a cup and shot it."

"Do this first. If you're still ill, do it your way."

"Fine." You put some salt on the lime and suck it. Eren looked at you attentively, waiting for you to scrunch your face once the sour taste kicked in, but you didn't.

"Why aren't you making a funny face?" He frowned.

"Oh," you laugh. "I used to have a lime obsession when I was little."

"What do you mean? Like you'd straight up have them like this?"

"Yes. I'd always forget to put the peel away. I left a trail wherever I went."

Eren scrunches his face. "Oh, that's nasty."

"Yeah, but it was physical proof of my love for limes."

Jean walks in. He ignores you and Eren in the kitchen and goes to the sliding doors surrounding the entire kitchen/breakfast table area. He looks at the rays that had snuck through the mound of clouds covering the sky.

"Have you guys seen the weather?" he says, approaching you.

Eren furrows his brows. "Don't talk about the weather."

"Shut up." He looks at you and says, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"Mmm, I hadn't noticed yet; Eren was forcing me to drink his mummy's banana juice."

Jean looks at Eren with disgust. "Ew, why?"

"That's not what you were saying before Jean showed up, though," Eren said, turning his back to you. He picked up the blender and put it in the sink.

You hide your smile and look at Jean. "I don't know. He's so weird, right?"

"Right."

"Okay, okay." Eren took the small plate with lime he had given you before and put it in the sink, along with the other dirty dishes. "Keep talking, and I won't let you ride on my motorbike."

Jean grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl in the island's center. "What motorbike?"

"The bike that I keep here?"

"The pink one?" Jean smiled.

Eren shoved Jean. "No, idiot, the green one."

"It's not yours, though." Jean took a bite from his apple, attempting to hide a smile.

"It is."

You silently watched them argue, your pupils jumping from each boy like a ping-pong ball every time one answered.

Jean turns to you and says, "The bike he's claiming is only his when Dirk isn't around."

"And what about it? Where's your bike?" Eren says.

"Who's Dirk?" you say.

"Historia's little brother," says Jean.

Eren answers, "Older, dumbass," as he washes the dishes he placed in the sink, never once directing his attention towards the other boy.

Jean takes another bite from his apple and says, with a full mouth, "Stop riding his meat, Jaeger." He pauses to swallow and then states with a clear voice, "It's weird."

Eren stopped scrubbing the plate he held, turned the water off, and said, "How!?"

"How to stop? I don't know, man; ask someone else."

You laugh with Jean and watch Eren angrily continue washing the accumulated dishes.

"Hey, don't get mad," you say, getting off the counter and bumping him with your elbow.

"I'm not mad; I'm just tired from looking at his horse face," he said, ending the sentence while looking at Jean and emphasizing the word 'horse.'

"Overused joke; come up with something else," said Jean. He then looked at you and said. "Plus, Historia's got like a bajillion other siblings you can borrow shit from."

"Yeah, but did you get their permission, though?" Eren said as he passed the rinsed dishes into the drying rack.

"Okay, I'm leaving. Jaeger's pissing me off. We're going to the beach in twenty, so be ready," Jean said, leaving you two alone.

As soon as he left, Eren started laughing.

"You pissed him off, stop laughing," you say, giggling yourself.

"He's so easy to piss off. It's funny."

"You're evil. I'm leaving you and your empty soul. Make sure to scrub those dishes real well!!" You run away before he can say anything back.

You go to your room and see Sasha slipping on a sundress over her bathing suit. She has a gorgeous green bikini that compliments her eyes. Her hair is in a messy pony, and she has a bag ready on her bed.

She notices your presence in the room and says, "Stop staring, freak."

"Oh, you wish." You scoff. "I'm just enjoying the peace; Jean and Eren have yet to discover the concept of an 'inside voice.'"

She laughs. "Don't even get me started on those two; they're so close and fight all the time but don't like admitting to it."

"Yeah, like brothers," you say.

"No, I'd say more like an old couple."

You laugh. "Why?"

"I don't know. They remind me of my grandparents. It's sweet if you think about it."

"I'd rather not, Sasha." You walk to your bed, grab your suitcase, and plop it on your bed. "So, what's the plan?"

"For today?"

"Sure."

"Beach day!" Sasha says, dragging out the 'ay'

"Yes, but what do we do there? Sure, the weather's miraculously 'nice' right now, but I'm sure it won't last long."

"I guess we'll just have to find out." You hear her bag's zipper close and see her head towards the door. "Don't take too long." She points at you and walks out the door.

You roll your eyes and take out your beach bag from your suitcase.

Thud, thud, thud…

You hear as you take your last few steps down the stairs. Before you reach the wooden floor of the living room. You look to your left, where you hear loud voices, and see your friends, along with Yasmin, Mikasa, and Armin, whom you had yet to see. They're at the door, being greeted by everyone.

You walk towards them to say hello and catch up for a bit. There are about nine people at the entrance of the house. Sasha and Connie are bickering; Jean is talking over them; Historia and Yasmin are trying to hear themselves by matching the volume of the room, and Mikasa is staring, waiting for it to go away. Armin waits awkwardly for silence with a shy smile. You'd think it'd be impossible for your thoughts to work during the tumultuous ambient your friends have created, yet you're proven wrong.

You can think, and you do, about Eren and how he's missing.

You sigh and quickly scan the room. Why's he always disappearing?

You left the crowd and walked forward, and you saw him. He sat alone in the living room, putting on sunscreen, which was directly in front of the entrance where you stood, yet a bit far. His back faced you.

You walk over to him.

He hears your steps and turns his head, his hair falling over his face as he looks at who those steps belong to. Once he sees it's you, he focuses on spreading the sunscreen on his legs.

"Hey," he says quietly. You can still hear your friends' slightly muffled voices.

"Hey." You drag out the 'y' feeling awkward already because you know why he's here. You sit on the sofa in front of him. "Why're you here?"

He doesn't look at you; he only shakes his head.

"Mikasa?"

"Mostly Armin," he says, eyes never leaving his legs.

"Why?"

You've talked about this over the last few weeks. As you've grown closer, Eren has had to explain his random disappearances more than a few times.

"Mikasa's my sister. Sure, I'm pissed at her, but we live together; she's easier to tolerate, especially with my mom down my neck telling me to be nice to her. But Armin's different. I only see him at school, and it's just... I don't know. It was weird seeing him unexpectedly."

"He doesn't go to your house anymore?"

"I guess Mikasa stopped inviting him over as much once the arguments stopped. I appreciated it."

You cross your legs. "And how do you feel now? I didn't know he was coming."

"Neither did I, but it's fine, just awkward." He looked at the ground for a bit after saying that.

"Guys, we're leaving!" yelled Sasha from the hallway. You and Eren looked at Sasha, but she was halfway out already. The others followed after her, including Armin.

You stand up and say, "We should go."

Eren wasn't far behind you, already standing by the time the word 'go' left your mouth. "Yeah."

"Hey."

"Hm?" he looked at you.

"Don't let him ruin your time here."

With a gentle smile, he said, "Of course not."

You walk outside with Eren by your side. Just walking feels awkward when it's in his presence. Or maybe it isn't him, maybe it's you. You don't think he gets awkward; if he does, he's doing a great job hiding it.

You said miraculous, and miraculous it was. The sun that had managed to expose itself earlier is gone as quickly as it appeared. Okay, 'sun' is an exaggeration. It was mostly light beaming through the clouds. The weather is back to what it was earlier in the morning, save for the exposure. It was about a shade lighter, which was evidence of the short-lived life that England seemed to have.

You followed in the direction of the sounds your friends made, that and Eren served as a good guide, not that you relied entirely on him, for obvious reasons, the first being that he's Eren, the second, his face. One glance at him, and you knew he wasn't there with you. He was someplace else, far, far away. It disappoints you a bit.

You sigh and look away. Beneath you lies the trail of footsteps towards the beach. You're surprised by the greenery you have to walk through. It isn't much, but you weren't expecting any, if at all. The way isn't long, and if you had to guess, you'd say Historia's house was around 7 minutes away. It is a short time but still long enough to admire the view. Though the sun is hiding, the scenery is still lovely. Light blue water crashes and bubbles against the sand, and the greyish sky that coats the great abundance above you wouldn't be as impactful if not followed by that crisp air that cuts through your lungs.

You reach your friends and see them place towels and beach chairs on the ground and plop their belongings there. When you set your towel down and are about to sit, Jean asks, "Where's Jaeger?"

You're about to roll your eyes at the thought of him randomly leaving you until you hear footsteps and look behind you. It's Eren catching up to you.

"What the fuck?" he says as he struggles to take the handle of his backpack off.

You help him, and with a thud, the black bag is against the cold, damp sand. "What do you mean?" you say.

Jean grabbed the bag and placed it on the towel where all the bags were being placed.

"You left me."

You're taken aback. "No, I didn't; you disappeared.”

He looks at you, "Disappeared where? I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You started power walking, couldn't even keep up."

"Christ, I didn't notice." You're stunned as you look at him.

Jean laughs and places his hand on Eren's shoulder. "Damn, Jaeger, how forgettable are you?"

Eren takes Jean's hand off of him and walks towards the group. You stare at the boy left with you in bewilderment, a look he knows too well. Does he not know how to read a room? You think about going after Eren but let it go for now.

“Okay, then what?”

Jean looks at you and says, "I don't know, she didn't want to."

"I mean, no girl wants to break up with her boyfriend." You laugh.

You were sitting on the beach chairs Jean and Connie had brought. As you requested, your chairs faced the shore, but your other friends, like Mikasa and Yasmin, were sitting beside each other directly in front of Historia and Armin. They were a bit further back and, by the position of the chairs, couldn't care less about the ocean. Sasha and Connie were attempting to go in the water, Sasha's excuse being that her bathing suit was too cute to go to waste, though they'd been trying to enter for the past thirty minutes. Their only progress had been getting the water ankle-high and only enduring it for twenty seconds.

As for you, you were in between Jean and Eren, and after bugging Jean about what happened between him and Amelie, he finally started speaking.

"She called me last night." He looked at you, a beer bottle resting on his chest.

You place your sunglasses on your head. Way too interested in the gossip. "At what time?"

"Two AM"

"Is that why she isn't here?"

"If I know." He scoffed.

"I thought she was on holiday?" said Eren. He's been quiet for the most part, not sulking, just squinting at the ocean. Jean didn't have that problem as he had sunglasses on, but Eren thought it foolish to wear sunglasses when there was no sun, and so he squinted.

"No, that was a Hitch," you say.

"And Indira?" asked Jean.

You sit up and look at Jean. "Do we not have the same friends?"

He adjusts his sunglasses. "We don't text, though."

"Yeah, me neither," said Eren.

"Well," you say as you lay back down, "she's visiting family in India." You pull the blanket you had on over your chest. It's getting colder. "Emilia?"

"Holiday."

You look at Eren, confusion on your face.

"She told me."

"She didn't tell me," you say.

"Same," Jean said.

"Anyway, Marlowe?" you ask.

Jean crinkled his nose. "We barely know him."

"Well, you barely know me, too."

"It's different," said Eren.

"How so? Didn't even know I existed until a couple of months ago."

"You're hard to get rid of," said Jean, which makes Eren laugh.

You grab a handful of sand and throw it at him. "Keep talking about Amelie; don't change the subject."

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and wiped the sand off his chest. You're disappointed; you thought it'd piss him off more. "I don't know what else to tell you. We broke up, then she gave me a letter. She called and texted me last night, and now she isn't here."

"But you guys broke up like a week ago. Was she going to come anyway?" you ask.

"I barely even remember it."

"No, they broke up. Then, she said she wouldn't come because it would be awkward, and when that didn't get a reaction out of Jean, she blew up and got super angry," Eren answered while still looking at the ocean. If you couldn't hear him, you'd assume he had no interest in the conversation.

"Out of Amelie and Jean, who's closer to Historia?" you say.

"Jean."

"Me."

"So even if you were dating, she wouldn't be here if you weren't?”

"Nope." Jean placed his sunglasses on his head, holding his long hair back. He took a sip from his beer.

"Give me more insider drama; you haven't said why you broke up."

Jean passed you the beer. "Isn't she your friend?"

"Well, you ruined her. She hasn't talked to me since you two started dating." You took a sip and scrunched your nose.

"No way," Eren said, almost accusingly.

"Yes, way. I didn't notice it until now because we saw each other at school. The last time we texted was probably three months ago. I didn't even know it was serious between you two."

"Me neither, man," says Jean.

"You're the most confusing man alive. What do you mean by that?"

"They were hooking up, then Amelie wanted them to be official, Jean didn't, and they broke up," Eren said, extending his hand to you, and you passed him the drink.

"What an asshole." You sneer.

"Right," said Eren.

"Since the beginning, I told her we were only hooking up. I broke it off because I noticed she was falling. You should give me a medal for that."

"Okay, superman, talk about the letter," you say.

His brows rose. "She told me she felt it in her bones we would meet again in the future."

"That's a long way to say 'see you next semester'," Eren laughed.

You cover your face with your hands, hiding your smile, and say, "I hope she kicks you in the balls next time she sees you." You look at Jean.

"Didn't she ghost you?" asked Jean.

"Oh, shut up, she had her reasons. I'd go crazy, too, if I had to date you."

Eren laughed as he took a sip.

Jean rolled his eyes and said, "I need a cigarette."

Eren scrunched his nose. "Don’t even think about it, you know I hate cigs."

"Yeah, I know," Jean said, standing up and walking toward Mikasa, who had a box in her hands.

"Do you think he's an ass, Eren?" you say.

"No," he adjusts his sitting position and takes a big gulp. "She agreed to it."

"Yeah, logically, but even I thought they were getting serious. Imagine how she felt."

"Sucks to suck." Eren shrugged. He holds the bottle between his lips and takes three big gulps. With the last one, he empties the bear and leaves it on the ground. He then looks at you and says, “Want to see something cool?"

After taking a quick detour to Historia's house and leaving your things there, Eren got the motorbike out of the garage.

"What do you think?" he said.

"It's green."

He smiled, and next thing you know, you held his waist as the wind blew on your face. You were high on adrenaline, but not from the bike. Since it was four-wheeled, it was fairly safe, but you had never been this close to Eren. Your chest lay flat against his back, your face on his nape, where you could feel the sweetest scent. Your eyes were closed as you felt gusts of wind smacking against your skin and clothes. You didn't know where he was taking you, and you didn't care.

The birds chirped as nightfall approached. It was getting darker and colder. As you scanned your surroundings for a place, you saw a few logs in a circle and what seemed to be an unlit bonfire.

"Stop here!"

"You sure?"

"Yes, yes!"

You held onto him tightly when you felt the bike slow its pace.

"Wait!" You look back, wind blowing on your face. "Go back!!" you tap impatiently on his shoulder.

He does as you say.

You get off the bike and cross the street to the beach, walking on sand instead of the pavement now. "There! The fire thingy!" You take Eren by the arm and pull him towards the place.

"Shit!" you say after stumbling on sand. Laughing uncontrollably the longer you spent in his presence.

Eren laughs and says, "How do you manage to fall on sand?"

“I didn't fall!” you whisper shout, practically being held up by his arm as your legs give out from laughter.

"Shh." Eren places his index finger on his lips. Ironically, his laughter could nearly drown out the sounds of the waves as they angrily hit the shore. Night growing deeper than your feet have sunk in the iced sand. "You're so loud."

You laugh even harder but place your hand on your mouth.

A particular wave hit the shore so hard that its sound completely overpowered how loud you and Eren were. While shocked, you looked at the source of the sound. "Guess we won't be having a dip," you said, laughter quickly joining you again.

"Can I give you a movie recommendation?" Eren says, looking down at you.

"Yeah."

"The Titanic? Don't know if you've heard of it."

"Oh, shut up. I was being sarcastic."

"No, you weren't. Just know that I wouldn't sacrifice myself like Jack for you."

You laugh with your mouth agape. "You're so fucking mean, Oh my God."

"Here!" he runs until he's close to one of the logs. "Is this it?!"

You try to keep up with him, your feet sinking into the sand and making it hard to move as freely as you'd like. You reach him, "Yes! Isn't this cute!"

"Guess so!" He beds down and fans the sand off one of the logs. He sits down and does the same to the piece of wood beside him. "Here."

His skin looked paler amongst the light that shone from the ocean—the perfect reflection of what was in the sky. Eren was captivating. You sit beside him and say, "Do you think it'll be awkward with Amelie and Jean?" You're not interested in them, but you'd die if the moment passed in silence.

"No, not really. Not Jean's first rodeo."

"Yeah, but will she be shunned?"

"Oh, that I don't know. I hope not, she's fun."

"Yeah, and Mikasa? Have you spoken to her today?"

He looks at you and sighs. "Yeah, actually. She reminded me Armin was staying with us; I forgot about that."

You look at him, confused, and he answers before you can ask.

"Almost every holiday, Armin's parents travel abroad for research. Ever since Armin's grandad died, he has stayed with us. Not always, though; that's why I forgot."

You nod. "Right."

Eren rests his elbows on his thighs and looks down, fidgeting with his hands.

"You miss them."

"I can't talk to him."

"What did he do, Eren?"

He looked at you, frustrated. "He-" he sighed. "No, I can't. He betrayed me. They both did, but I guess Mikasa's easier to understand." The dip between his brows grew deeper the more he thought about it. The topic, visually, makes him uncomfortable.

"Have they tried talking? Have you tried listening?"

He let out a breathy laugh, which felt more like a snicker. "Yes, and no. There's no excuse because it has nothing to do with them. They butted into my business and kept saying 'it was to protect me.'"

You furrow your brows. "Protect you from what?"

"Exactly!" he exaggerated by lifting his arms. "Thank you; they won't tell me. It's part of the 'protection,' I guess."

"Serial killer on the loose, maybe?”

He laughs. "Right. Got little Armin working overtime.”

You laugh. "Okay, but seriously," you elbow him. "Surely it can't be that bad. They're being dramatic.”

"Yes, I know. I won't have to deal with it soon, though." He kicks some sand.

You look at him to continue his sentence.

"College."

"Oh." You quietly say. "Do you know which one he's attending?"

"Oxbridge, probably. No problem there, God knows I'll never attend."

"Did you apply to them?"

"Yes, Mum convinced me to, but I wouldn't want to go even if I got in."

"Why not?"

"Bunch of private school tories." He shook his head.

You laugh. "Oh, that's rich coming from you."

"Yes, but I'm cool; they're all losers."

"Right."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"This isn't an interview, dummy," he bumps you. Where will you be going?"

You sigh. "It's stupid."

"Just say it."

"I applied to quite a few, but I really want to get into Kings."

"I applied there, too." A smile crept into his face.

You smile back. "Let's see if it happens then."

Silence overtakes the moment, the waves behind you serving as enough noise for the silence not to be punishing, or maybe the punishment part had long departed. Perhaps you and Eren had grown so close that the lack of conversation between the two did not make you nervous but comfortable. Surprisingly, the silence felt like a warm blanket, covering the two in warmth and happy feelings, with no thoughts tormenting your every move and no anxiety creeping up your spine to cloud your actions—or lack thereof—just peace. You look at Eren, your head slightly lifting for your eyes to gather all there was to him. Eren looked down at you.

Many times, you would've looked away and continued with the conversation, but this time, you simply stared at him, not shy of intense eye contact—eye contact so powerful that it'd feel sinful to look away from such beauty.

If only you knew you shared thoughts. Almost as if there was an indescribable, transcendental connection between your minds. You always carry each other in your minds, whether by thinking of one another or sharing consciousness, reasoning, morals, even personalities. The way in which you process information and how you experience and see the world—you were the same, a mirror created by the same being, only slightly incomplete. For when you were to be reunited, you'd feel the affection of a thousand lifetimes, the love and care cultivated by a hundred different versions of yourselves.

The moon and the stars only aid your passion. Your skin glistened, and specks of sand on your skin got caught in the light of the rock that floated from thousands of kilometers away. You were breathtakingly gorgeous. And Eren found himself, yet again, unable to hold back. Unable to look away from the places in your body that yelled for his attention, for his affection. He let the trail of light the moon shone on your skin guide him. From the highest points of your shoulders to the supple skin of your breasts. You quietly follow his gaze, knowing the blues of your bathing suit mixed so well with those in the pigment of your skin. Eren looked at you in a way you had only dreamed of before.

You reach out a hand on his thigh. "Hey," you say.

He looks up at your eyes, and it's torture. You looked up at him in a way he had only dared to fantasize. In a way, he never thought he'd see. Your eyes stared into his very soul, and he knew this sight too well. He had seen it only a hundred times as the nights came down and all 'goodnights' had been said. Only when he'd be alone in bed, with his hand beneath his sheets, would he allow himself to breathe you in the ways he needed.

Though they were mere thoughts, they felt every bit as real as this moment. Eren felt like a simple pinch would be the answer to all his problems, including solving the question of whether this was real, but if it was, wouldn't he look foolish after doing so?

And so he held your gaze in his and decided to extend a hand to you. Once feeling your warm skin against the palm of his hands, he knew this was real.

This was real.

An uncontrollable stride bubbled up inside him, a want, a need to have you, to feel you, to bathe in the scent of your unforgiving and cruel body—so torturous, for it hasn't been his yet. He took the hand he had placed on your chin and put it on your waist, feeling the shape of you he had dreamed of. He pulled you closer.

"Eren."

He looked down at you, into your eyes, again, whispering softly. "What, what?" He pulled you closer.

You grab his face. You appreciate his eyes, the locks of hair that were caught in between the tips of your fingers, his overall beauty.

You simply smile at him before ending all it all and joining your lips with his.

-

CHOSOSHEART 2022 © All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, modify, or repost.

Hello, everyone!! Last time I updated this story was two years ago, and I wanted to apologize for my inconsistency, hopefully this chapter will make up for it!! Chapter ten is almost finished, it'll definitely be out this month!!

Thank you so much for reading, I’m ready to come back for good and finish trainwreck!!

ps: Also, I'm so sorry if it isn't as good as my past chapters, or if it's fast paced, I'm veryyy rusty and I struggled so much with remembering how to describe things and expressions. Hopefully it wasn't too bad.

See you guys next time!! :))

[literateowl]

Seven Sentence Sunday + a fic anniversary

Posting this one to celebrate the 6 month anniversary of my 2x02 Carlos POV fic. Here are the first seven sentences exactly. You can read the rest at the link at the bottom.

Carlos returns to the precinct after safely bringing Lily home. The young woman thanked him repeatedly for rescuing her from the food truck full of scorpions and the lava encroaching. He hadn't had the time to react at the moment but the memory now makes him shudder and his skin crawl as he pulls into the parking lot. He sits in the quiet car for a moment listening only to his own breathing, taking a little bit of time for himself before he goes to see whatever chaos is undoubtedly happening inside for everyone on this nightmarish shift.

“Dispatch requesting additional engine and RA units to relieve station 126 at 4548 Green Street.”

The small amount of calm that Carlos managed to grab onto is gone as soon as he hears the station number over the radio.

No.

Thank you to @ironheartwriter @captain-gillian and @carlos-in-glasses for tagging me already today

💜 Open tag as usual and also for @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses @bonheur-cafe @tellmegoodbye @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @thisbuildinghasfeelings @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @sugdenlovesdingle

Also thank you to every one who tags me when I don't have anything to post. I'm sorry if I forgot to tag you back today 💖

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THEM [PART 2]

-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]

[Part 2] [Part 3]

This is a sequel to One of the Boys

-> <-

"Five minutes," Steve counts on his watch. "I swear I'm leaving her."

Adjusting the itchy Family Video vest against his chest, Steve has had enough patience with Robin. He slams his fist into the horn on his car hoping the entire neighborhood wakes up. Maybe they could riot to her front door to get her out of bed.

Steve twists the dial to his radio. Seriously, where is this girl? Every morning at seven o'clock, Steve stops by her house to give her a ride to school. And, every morning the same routine plays like a horribly tuned piano. Well, today's the day, Steve puts his foot to the gas pedal.

"She can walk to school," hand on the gear shift, Steve readies to peel off the curb and zip down the street. But, he doesn't.

No, Steve is far too gentle of a soul to leave his friend out on the edge of a cliff like that. Allowing a puff of hot hair to escape, he rests back in the drivers seat and takes his foot away from the pedal. Maybe knocking some sense into his head would do the trick. He bends forward onto the steering wheel. The horn beeps, and deafens him.

Robin yanks open the car door. "Good morning, sunshine!"

"Next time-" Steve says lifting his head.

"'Next time, I'm leaving you!'" Robin slots into the passenger side, and buckles herself into the car. "Anything new with you?"

Steve doesn't like to believe that he's gotten so predictable. In fact, all driving around Robin to school and the the endless amount of freshman that need rides to go to and from their stupid after school club, Steve contemplates asking for compensation. But, again, he's not that guy.

"What took you so long?" He asks.

Robin scoffs. "I was in the bathroom. What? You want me running out here with my pants down leaving a trail behind me? I don't think so."

"Thank you for that visual, Robin," Steve winces.

Sure, she's running a few fifteen minutes late, but doesn't everyone have at least one bad day - or a week - or month - or year?

Robin sat straight up in her bed that morning with a pile of drool next to her on her pillow. Hair stuck straight out on one side of her head like it was trying to escape her. Yes, she could hear every horn honk that came from Steve Harrington's car, and no she did not make it her mission to torture him every morning by being late.

Her power went out. Or, maybe she slept through her alarm. Potayto; potahto. Either way, she smudges on a bit more blush from her compact in her bag, she's in the car now right?

"Did you eat breakfast?" Steve already know's she'll say 'no.' "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. And, don't you have a test in first period? Shouldn't you be focusing on that instead of . . . what is that pink stuff?”

"It's blush, Steven," She teases. "You sound like my dad."

"Ha ha," he quips back. "Backseat."

Robin stretches around to see a brown paper bag soaking in it's own juices. He's stopped at the diner, before he came to pick her up. Sure that might have been his lunch for later in his shift, but he would rather not have his friend pass out while trying to recite the alphabet or whatever they teach these days.

"Stevie!" Robin pouts her lip.

"Shut up," he jokes.

Their relationship is platonic, although Robin did have to wave off Steve’s crush on her. She’s not into him, nor is she into any other man she’s ever come across. As a friend, however, Steve has turned into one of her closest. She relies on him, especially with him withholding her biggest secret. She’s very gay.

On the way to school, Hawkins is still all the same gray town. Cool weather blows winds through the streets freezing them all like icicles. Snow this year is said to be minimal, but freezing temperatures suggest otherwise.

Pulling into the parking lot of his old high-school, Steve hits his breaks sending Robin sliding forward. She clutches her bag, and adds a screwed look upon her face.

“My bad,” Steve doesn’t sound very apologetic. But, nonetheless, they’re friends and he has to pull her leg when she pulls his.

Robin springs from the car with her backpack in her hand, and her breakfast sack hanging out of her mouth. She muffles something along the lines of ‘thank you’ lost in translation behind the paper bag.

You wouldn’t know from the outside looking in, but Robin is quite apprehensive about school. There’s only so many crowds, and so many people that she can manage at one time. That’s usually why she’s on the hunt for someone she knows so bright and early - to defend her of the rampaging school children.

For example, Jason Carver is one of the biggest a-hole’s in the school. But, people still praise him like a King. That was Steve once, so she tries not to be too harsh when she judges him. But, he’s not making the best case for himself when he’s threatening a freshman boy for flunking Jason's homework. Jason’s minions are given the order to toss him into the dumpster, and Robin has the smarts to look away.

Robin swings open the double doors to be smacked in the face with the thick musk of high school air. She’s a bit late, so she thought that maybe people had begun flocking to class. Wrong. She dodges some kid parading around with an easel with the legs sticking out, so at least no one would bump into him.

There’s a window of opportunity for her to swing into her home room, and chow down on her breakfast before Mrs. Brown doesn’t scold her for not sharing with the rest of the class. She’s got about ten minutes until the bell rings, and Mrs. Brown is no where to be seen. She’s probably got her head over the copier grinding the gears a little too hard to give out weeks worth of homework due tomorrow. That’s her favorite.

As Robin sits in her usual spot, she opens the greasy bag in front of her. Bundled under a pile of trash from Steven’s breakfast burrito, she does find herself a single sandwich. Ham and Swiss cheese with far too many thick slabs of tomato for her liking. She lets the tomato slide off in a pile of sad gooey slime, and then places the bread back on top of the sandwich to complete it.

“I’ll see you later,” the usual conversation between classmates bores Robin, but the sound of your voice piques her interest.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” Eddie’s words draw out low and deep.

You’re giggling now, and Robin tilts her head to the open door. Without checking for other occupants, you swing Eddie into your shared home room to plant a various amount of wet kisses to his lips.

Frozen in time, Robin sits like a statue. She knows she’s not supposed to witness the exchange. Especially by Eddie overlooking his shoulder a number of times, before running off down the other hallway. You chase after him, but only to learn into the hallway to watch him run off.

You’re completely smitten.

Robins never known you to be this unaware. There’s a time and a half that she’s readied you for dates, but she’s never seen that shine in your eye, the flush on your cheeks or the floating just above the ground where the rest of us are.

How she skirted past being caught by you or Eddie is mind blowing. But, you’re in a ‘love bubble’ that’s impenetrable.

Robin grabs a thick needle, and jabs at the edges until the bubble bursts as you sit down. Forgetting the sandwich, and the painful growls from her stomach, Robin now twists in her seat making the chair moan.

“Good morning, Robin,” you’ve got cupids arrow in your ass. “When did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” her sarcasm is drooling from her mouth now. “Sometime before you and Eddie started making out at the door.”

Your stomach flips, and your face drops down back to earth. “Uh, oh.”

Robins bounces. “When did that happen?”

“Last Friday, after school,” you blurt as the bell rings. “Listen Robin, you can’t tell anyone what you saw. Please? We’re just trying to keep a low profile for a while.”

The classroom begins to fill, while you’re still silently begging for your friend to keep her mouth shut for once in her life. Robin’s the worst at keeping secrets!

And, Robin does go through the list of who she’ll blab too first. She could tell Steve because he would just reply ‘Who?’ and get all squinty. Or, she could tell Dustin, who’s really close to Eddie. That’s a fair trade.

That’s when Robin notices the gray plume of smoke floating into the classroom. A haze of green and gold glitter spiral into the archway. Suddenly, the mask drops to the tile floor. And what’s left?

Roxie Martin.

Robin might have a bit of an imagination, but what is very real is the absolute terror stricken fear written across your face. She’s a ball of evil with a bat hidden in her bra - probably.

Yeah, Robin thinks that she’ll keep quiet for a while.

“Good morning, class,” Mrs. Brown zips into the classroom with a years worth of paper stacked in her grip. “Roxie, please find your seat. And, unless you have enough to share with the rest of the class, put away your food, Robin.”

Robin’s stomach growls.

-> <-

tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch

[baocean]

springsteen

jjmaybank x touron!reader

Seventeen years old or twenty-seven, it didn’t matter, you still loved JJ Maybank.

Warnings: none!

First of my country songs series, listen to the song!!! (Give country a chance, I’m begging you)

It had been almost ten years since you last saw him. You could still remember like it was yesterday, though. You were freshly seventeen and were spending the summer on the Banks with your family.

The first time he saw you was when he was passing your beach house in the Twinkie, along with his other friends. John B called a hello out the window and JJ turned his head to watch you play with your little cousins in the front yard until he couldn’t see you anymore.

You were stuck in his head like a piece of bubblegum. Sort of like the one you were popping in your mouth when he first drove by. He memorized the way you looked, the way your white top made your tan skin shine, how your cut off jeans made his fingers tingle. The Ray-bands that were stuck in your messy hair, fresh from the ocean. You were wearing flip flops and still, JJ couldn’t get enough.

He made up stupid reasons to take the Twinkie, drive it across town and down your street, hoping to get another glance at you.

When he did, he pulled onto the side of the road. You were getting out of your car, an iced coffee in one hand and a bouquet of flowers from the supermarket in the other. He thought you looked like a dream.

“Are you new?” He called out the window, swallowing the nerves. He felt like he was talking to a celebrity. Something told him he wouldn’t be as nervous to talk to an actual celeb as he was calling out for you.

“I’m here for the summer. Who are you?” You replied.

“JJ. Would you go to a party with me tonight?”

“Are you going to murder me after, JJ?”

The cute blonde sticking his head out of the Volkswagen Touran was grinning ear to ear at your response. He shook his head, then you smiled, too. You shrugged your shoulders and agreed.

“I’ll pick you up at seven. You’ll be here?” He yelled, smacking his head against the door, it made a loud sound from the metal of his rings.

“I’ll be here. See you tonight.” You smiled and turned to walk up the stairs to the front door.

Fourteen days later, you were pretty sure you had fallen in love. For the first time, you were feeling something like you could jump off a cliff and no matter what or where, JJ would be at the bottom to catch you. Maybe you were just being a silly teenager, but you were certain that’s what love felt like.

JJ would take you to the old shipyard and find a container to sit on and watch the ships sail out onto the ocean or take you to his friend Kiara’s restaurant where you would sit and talk as a date until Mr. Carrera forced you guys out.

At the end of everyday, he’d take his sweet time driving you home, taking the far way around the island. He’d make you so late your parents would be angry every time you got home. You didn’t care, neither did he.

“Don’t go.” You whined one night. Sitting in the Twinkie, in your driveway. It was the third week of summer, it was a hot and sticky night, the ac was blowing your hair in a way that made JJ think you looked like an angel. He gave you a sickly, sweet smile that made you want him to kiss you. You had only known JJ for three weeks but when he kissed you, it felt like it had been years. He kissed you so sweet, he put his hand on your cheek and pulled you over to sit closer to him. It was the best kiss of your life.

At twenty-seven, you still thought about him like the last time you saw him was the day before. You wondered if now, at twenty-seven, JJ would think about you too when he would hear a song from Bruce Springsteen. That summer, at eighteen, JJ was obsessed with him and Snoop Dog, saying he wanted to smoke like Snoop and sing like Bruce. He certainly smoked enough to run with Snoop Dog but you used to laugh and cover your ears when he sung along to the radio.

You were back in the Banks, in the same house on the same street, almost ten years later. The same family you were with the last time were there, except your father. When he died six months ago, he made you promise to start a tradition of making good use out the the house he paid an expensive mortgage for. So there you were, with the same cousins you used to play with in the front yard, now the same age as you were the last time.

When you saw him, he was driving by in a beat up, black Jeep. You were unloading things from your white BMW, the one you had been dreaming of buying since you graduated college from Clemson. He hit the breaks so hard the hodgepodge of items on his passenger seat went flying. You dropped your bags back into the backseat.

You almost couldn’t believe it was him. He was so handsome, the same blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, just all grown up. He let his arm hang out the side of his car as you walked over. You caught sight of your name, tattooed into his wrist. It had faded since you last saw it. He had gotten it a few weeks before you left that summer. You could remember the god awful look your mother gave you when she saw your name, tattooed on the pogue boys wrist as he shook her hand for the first time. You also remembered you didn’t care what she thought, all you could think about is that when he got it, you were holding his hand and he was telling you how much he loved you.

“Is that you, JJ Maybank?” You wrapped your fingers around the door handle and pulled it open, not thinking about what you were doing. You had guessed you just wanted to see him, all of him.

He smiled and it’s like you were sent back into time, the first time he smiled at you, in the same driveway. He nodded, stepping out the car that was still running. JJ needed to see you too, without a stupid door in the way. He wanted to see what ten years did to you.

He grew taller. Even at seventeen when sleeping at the Chateau, he would complain about not being able to rest because of his growing pains. He used to pull you into his body and tell you to kiss it better.

JJ thought you were even more beautiful than you were at seventeen. At eighteen, he thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. At twenty-eight, he knew you were the most beautiful woman there was.

That night, he took you out to The Wreck, where Mr. Carrera greeted you, telling you all about Kiara’s successes in Australia. ‘Born in the USA’ played over the speakers in the restaurant. JJ sang along to the lyrics.

“You haven’t gotten any better at singing.” You laughed over the Bruce Springsteen song.

“Yea, I quit smoking too. So there goes both my dreams.” He shook his head, looking up at you through his blonde hair.

“What’s your dream now?” You head your head in your hands, watching him think. His eyebrows furrowed anytime he thought hard about something. You learned that about him early on.

“Move out of my apartment, I’m barely there anyway. Get a nice house on the water and surf a ton. Open up my own surfboard company. Probably marry you, too.”

He took you by surprise. You found yourself thinking the same thing, though. Time didn’t seem to matter when it came to you and JJ.

That summer, you spent any free time with JJ. When he bought the small warehouse to start his business, you were there when he signed the lease. The first surfboard he made was for you. When you got sick as a dog for a week, he was there. You learned how good JJ was at making chicken noodle soup.

Three years later, on the other side of town, the nicer side of town, JJ and you walked along the beach. Your house was just a few hundred feet down. It was a dark blue, with a wrap around pouch and had a hammock you laid in when the sun was setting.

Your boyfriend’s business took off, he was shipping surfboards across the world daily, with lots of orders waiting for him. Your career in marketing was taking off well.

He proposed to you three years after twenty-seven. On the beach your dark blue house rested on. With a ring he saved up his entire life for.

At seventeen, you thought that summer would be the last time you saw JJ. At thirty, you wanted to laugh and tell her she was a silly teenager. You wanted to tell her that her cliff jumping love was real, and it lasted.

[petriquors]

POV: You just had the worst week ever

a/n: gn!reader, post-timeskip. This one’s for you, sad boy indie car person. 

Listen to this.

On Sunday, your boyfriend dumped you, beginning the worst week of your life. (So far, you remind yourself, rolling your eyes as far back into your skull as you can.)

On Monday, you found out your regular coffee shop closed.

On Tuesday, you got chewed out by your boss for a mistake you didn’t make.

On Wednesday, your train was out of service and you had to walk several miles home from work.

On Thursday, rent was due, which comparatively isn’t that bad, but still. Ugh.

Things ain't always set in stone; that be known, let me know.

Today, Friday, you dragged your aching body and tired mind through a fairly normal day of work and back home again. You change into pajamas, crack open your bedroom window for some fresh air, and fall face-first into bed, finally able to enjoy some peace and quiet.

Seems like streetlights glowing happen to be just like moments passing in front of me.

Except someone is playing the saddest music you’ve ever heard in your building’s parking lot.

“You have got to be kidding me,” you moan, out loud, because who’s going to hear you? A man’s soft croon and your own aggravation fill your ears; you can’t decide if you’re angry or…if the song, in all its weepy emotional-ness, is exactly what you need right now.

See, I know my destination, I'm just not there.

Annoyance makes your face feel hot, but curiosity stirs in your stomach. You aren’t sure which one makes you sit up.

You swing your legs over the side of your bed, then lean forward with your elbows on your thighs. The song beckons, but the weight of your week holds you down like a monster dragging you to the depths of melancholy.

I'm just not there.

Rubbing your eyes, you fight against your lack of will before standing and padding over to the window. Your fingers brush the cold glass that separates you from the world outside, trace the white pane, and press your fingers against the bottom of the glass.

Raising the window higher, higher, you push it above your head, high enough to stick your head out into the cool spring air. You spot a car, windows down and lights off, with a silhouette of a man faintly outlined by the full moon in front of him. The music floats from his radio, forlornly vocalizing everything you’ve felt this week.

Life just ain't fair.

You suck in a breath. It smells like rain-drenched pavement, fresh grass, blooming flowers—all things you didn’t have the time or energy to pay attention to in the last seven days.

“Hey! Guy in the car!” Your shout is answered by a man sticking his head out the car window. He looks shocked; even as moonlight washes his features, you see embarrassment color his face. 

He’s pretty, you think, and your heart shivers. 

He looks sad, like he’s had a week just like yours. As fate would have it, you feel connected to this stranger, and you think you have nothing at all to lose.

“Sorry,” he shouts back, “I can—”

Quickly, you shake your head. Don’t turn it off. Don’t stop. Don’t leave. “What song is that?”

🤍 YAMAGUCHI, Suna, Oikawa, Atsumu, Ukai Jr., TERUSHIMA, Akaashi

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in June 2023. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #51 |  ko-fi | fic recs

—Louis/Harry—

🩷 Teach me how to love by @perfectdagger

(E, 70k, one night stand) The one in which Harry is bad at sex and Louis spreads it all over town and to make up for it, decides to help him with no agenda of getting anything from it, but in the end, he ends up getting more than he bargained for.

🩷 My Other Half Was You by @lululawrence

(NR, 35k, small town au) Four years, seven months, and sixteen days after the day that changed everything, Louis turns a corner and literally runs into the man who just might change it all again.

🩷 Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by @allwaswell16

(E, 30k, songfic) It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

🩷 Cowboy Like Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 29k, thief au) Going legit and starting over in a small town was supposed to solve all of Harry’s problems. That was until a string of robberies in wealthy towns brings him face-to-face with his rogue ex-partner and their dicey, unresolved past.

🩷 Every Lover's Got A Little Dagger In Their Hand by ishiplouis / @pocketsunshineharry

(E, 22k, enemies to lovers) Does the attraction between two complete opposites really exist, or is it just a myth?

🩷 It Will Always Be You by @phdmama

(E, 15k, older Larry) If you had told Louis Tomlinson a year ago that he would be celebrating his birthday by kissing the man who is the love of his life on a Church Street park bench in Burlington VT as the snow drifted softly down, he would have told you that you were extremely imaginative. 

🩷 You Light Up the Path by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(T, 12k, mermaid au) Louis Tomlinson left his home in Doncaster as a young man with the intent of making enough money to send it back home to his family and support them however he could. Harry, or so he likes to be called, is the myth and legend himself known as the Staithes Mermaid. 

🩷 The Revelation by @creamcoffeelou

(E, 8k, cult au) Harry feels his edges start to unravel. He can’t find where he ends and where Louis begins.  Part 3 of The Risen

🩷 Lacy Little Secret by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(E, 6k, bachelor party) Harry learned a very valuable lesson that day: always check to make sure it’s the right car before getting in.

🩷 the embers are new by @nouies

(NR, 3k, fantasy) Louis is a dragon vet whose life is changed after a long trip.

🩷 DIY Orgasm by red_PANdaaa28 / @red-pandaaa

(E, 3k, Grindr) Harry takes artsy nudes, Louis receives one and they both get to come.

🩷 Next in Line by @jaerie

(E, 3k, a/b/o)  It wasn’t fair that nobody was doing anything about such behaviour. Harry couldn’t ban all alphas from his shows, but he could make omega only sections.

🩷 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt

(G, 3k, vampire au) Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one.

🩷 The Early Show by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 2k, uni radio show) The thing about Harry is that Louis has never been sure if he doesn’t like hybrids, or if he doesn’t like Louis. Either way, it’s unfortunate that they apparently are both equally late.

🩷 Ahead in the Count by @kingsofeverything

(E, 2k, baseball au) Louis’s been a catcher in the minor leagues for more than a decade and he’s never known a pitcher to touch his junk more often than he touches the baseball.

🩷 I Hear the Wind, It's Whispering My Name by Anonymous

(M, 2k, ghost fic) She’d also allowed herself to think of the woman every time she had a bit of me time over the next week. But then the woman had returned.

🩷 Imagination into Reality by @tommokat

(E, 1k, girl direction) It’s more than just physical, it’s years and years of attraction and pining and something that tastes like love. 

🩷 All This Time by @allwaswell16

(T, 1k, flower shop au) Louis Tomlinson had been best friends with flower shop owner Gemma Styles for years. It wasn't until she suggested he date her alpha brother that he ever thought of Harry that way. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea...

—Rare Pairs—

🩷 Pageant Material by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(G, 6k, Zayn/Louis) the Zouis teen beauty pageant AU.

🩷 Cool Kids Never Have The Time by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment

(T, 6k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn auditions to join a band and makes a bad first impression on their bassist.

🩷 you wanna be on top? by @disgruntledkittenface

(NR, 6k, Zayn/Louis) Zayn’s experience as a contestant on America’s Next Top Model left her more than a little traumatized. She thinks she knows what to expect when she lets herself be talked into making an appearance on the show a couple of years later. Louis manages to surprise her.